Wednesday, February 16
Why hello children, I had a great day.

I think he took his ex out to dinner on Valentines' Day because he didn't want to spend it alone. He probably didn't ask me because I'm shy and tend to look like I avoid people. It's a nasty habit I have. Well at lunch while I was sitting and eating cookies with Lauren, he came up to me to ask me for my geometry homework. It's about time that he noticed that all of my answers are nothing but bullshit and that I only write all that crap down so that it looks like I did my homework, and so the teacher gives me credit for being dumb and not really looking at my "work." But I think he asks me anyway on purpose. So he decides to stay a while and asked me about how the book I was reading was.

He told me about his favorite author, a long name that I really can't comprehend, and that he wrote an analogy stating that a person is like a Twinkie, and that that Twinkie must die with the other missing one that they were born with whom they both came in that packet. A person must find and die with their significant other, and he said that he wanted to find that other Twinkie whom he matches with. I said it was cute, he agreed, and walked away. I think our conversation, well he was mostly talking though, ended so soon because Eric came to hang out with me. He was probably intimidated by him. That sucks, poor thing.

I want to try to talk to that guy again, but I never know what to say. He's always at his locker and keeps glancing at me whenever I'm at mine, because his is about ten down the hall from mine. And plus, we both wear leather jackets. His is extremely hot. Just like him. It's so funny and awesome that he wears Birkenstock leather clogs to school, through rain and snow, sun and shine. At a firedrill earlier this month, while standing outside, Eric asked him what the hell kind of shoes he was wearing, and he explained that he wore them because they come on and off easily and exposes his feet. Or socks, in most cases. It is a tad bit chilly to not be wearing socks.

Chemistry was so excruciatingly fucking boring. Ryan and his restaurant bagel from somewhere just about fucking killed me.

Desktop publishing was just as horrible. For my magazine cover, I got a picture of a knocked-out Keith Richards and made up the title of the magazine, Uzi Suicide. I didn't really make it up though. It was Guns n' Roses' independent label where they released Live Like a Suicide.

While walking home it was fucking pouring. Then suddenly I hear someone yell, "ASSSSIIIANNNN!" It was Ferris' big fat ass head sticking out of a green car. As the traffic stopped at an intersection, I catch up to the car that he was in and he called to me again. I flick him off and continue walking with water all over my eyes, hair, jacket, and vocabulary textbook. The car continues forward in traffic again and this time it catches up to me. Ferris sticks his head out of the car another time and throws a twisted plastic fork at me, yelling, "DAMN YOU, ASIAN! THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR LEAVING ME YOUR GARBAGE YESTERDAY!"

I sat with him and Eric at lunch yesterday, and the three of us put our garbage in the center of the area of which we were sitting on the floor. None of us wanted to get up and throw it away. So towards the end of the lunch block Eric and I get up and scramble, leaving Ferris to do the dirty work. The fucked up fork that I couldn't even feel hit me was his sad attempt at revenge.

It's seriously fucking dumb that just a few minutes ago, it was raining/sleeting/snowing all through the period of one hour, sky was fucking as dark as your shit after eating buffalo wings and not shitting for a week, and now all of a sudden the sun is out and the sky is as blue as your ass when some fat guy is resting his foot on it. It's like we lived through a whole year of weather changes in one day. From cool to warm to wet to sun. Fuck you, mother nature, take some fucking Midol and calm down your fucking period.

My mom has decided to not wait until I'm sixteen to put me on birth control. Since my rag is obviously coming soon due to all these sudden breakouts I've been getting, she's going fucking Gwar-torture crazy. And you know what she admitted? She said that the only thing keeping me from being beautiful is my acne. That's pretty lame. Why not allow me to put on makeup in the meantime? I'm too afraid to ask, in fear of her hour-or-two-long lectures. But before that, she was staring at me and said I looked fucking disgusting. Fuck you, I came out of your slimy flabby ass. It's your slutty fault.


Christina N. @ 4:21 PM