I hate it.

D:

Please come back, sweet, sweet summer.

I'm trying to deal with high school, I really am. Perhaps I'm not quite so miserable as I was last week. But how does anyone ever ENJOY it? Like, seriously, it's boring AND annoying AND frustrating.

Anyways, I managed to make one new friend this week. A cute Asian girl. No offense, but she's better at drawing than ALL of you combined, and yet she still somehow thinks my work is good. Go figure. And I think she called me Dr. Phil because I'm a jack-of-all-trades kind of gal. Is Dr. Phil like that, really? Personally I hate the guy. But that's not what I meant to talk about really.

I just want it to be OVER already. Go away, stupid high school.

But then again, I don't really want to get a job either. My desire to remain unemployed is greater than my desire for cash, which is really saying something.

No, I'm not. And I know that as soon as I close my eyes I'll be thinking of you, sitting there by yourself, never knowing.

You're such an idiot.

I'M such an idiot.

I love you.

Good night.

Yeah, braces. Yuck. I can't talk at all, especially with my bite plane in--which is like a retainer. I'm allowed to take my bite plane out when I eat though, so I'm eating ice cream. Slowly, so that if I do it long enough, I won't have to put my bite plane back in until I go to bed. When I don't have to talk.

I wouldn't look TOO bad if it weren't for my mass of spit thanks to an extreme amount of "foreign objects in your mouth," as my 'lovely' orthodontist says.

Oh yeah, I get elastics too. Joy. Tortoise ones, which are labeled 'heavy.' And I have to make a giant square on both sides of my mouth with them when I have my bite plane on.

I feel generally awkward, and I can't even fit a spoon in my mouth, there's so much metal in there.

On the bright side, if I bite people now, it'll be a lot easier to break the skin.

You know, when people ask me how school is going, you know what I want to say? "Terribly, actually. It sucks like the world's most powerful tornado and blows like a hurricane." In case you're a little bit thick in the head, I just said, "I hate it a lot."

So basically, I wake up every morning and think, 'I don't want to get up. I don't want to get up and face another day of the dreadfully boring grindstone. No one is going to talk to me. No one is going to even look at me. I'll just end up sitting alone.' But then, hey, my stupid, 'reasonable' side pipes up and says, "Maybe today will be different. Maybe today you'll have fun and you'll have people to talk to. So get up, it's time to go to school."

Stupid 'reasonable' side. My days are just as horrible as I predict them to be.

I feel like a desert pelican there.