and I was really hoping to get to school by two so that I can read (what I didn’t read over the weekend) for my English class. If I at least get there an hour from now I should be good.

Walking Coco (the dog) is turning into one of my favorite things to do. She bounces around awkwardly, zig-zagging in front of me around the path. Her fur reminds me of an immature dandelion, looking as if it’ll float away if a strong wind came our way. Coco will stop if people are near by and no amount of pulling the lease will mobilize her. Its as if shes rooted her claws into the ground.

O look, perhaps I have started my “descriptive essay” for my inane English Class. I mean SERIOUSLY, who, over the age of fourteen NEEDS to know what a ‘thesis statement’ is? IT IS STILL BOGGLING MY MIND! I don’t want to write a descriptive essay! I know its an easy A but I completely feel that the assignment is sophomoric and below my intelligence! I am not fifteen I need a little bit more of a challenge!

I don’t even know WHAT I am going to write about! I don’t know if I can even write a two-page paper on my subject! I can perhaps write a paragraph!

“She waddles into the auditorium, her flesh swinging from side-to-side. Not even her tye-dyed mu-mu can hide the fact that she’s a large woman. Her numb-like fingers throw down the piles of paper shes been carrying on the desk. They slide about. Perhaps she’s ready to start class. Oh, wait. Shes breathing heavily, I think she needs to take a breather.

She begins to speak and I can’t stand her voice. It sounds like an engine thats trying to start-up and I prepare my ears for the two hours I will be sitting here. In silence. Listening to that motor that can’t seem to turn itself over.”

That is not a descriptive essay. That is a narrative. WHAT THE HELL AM I GOING TO DO?

On to another subject. I am turning twenty-one on the twenty-eighth this month. I know its supposed to be a right of passage in this country, but I am completely apathetic towards it. I am not going to go out and drink and get drunk- I hardly do that now. In fact, I cannot fathom myself getting sloppily drunk on the day that I was born. That doesn’t seem like a classy way to spend a day that is supposed to be special. And I’m a classy gal.

Chance wants to take me to a comedy club, unfortunately there isn’t a performer that I am interested in seeing.

I don’t even know what I’m going to do, but I know I want to do something. I know I want to have a large dinner with family and friends and celebrate that way, but I can foresee my mother urging me to order at least one drink, since its my birthday, since I turned twenty-one. And it will become awkward when I sharply tell her no for the umpteenth time and then NO ONE will have fun after that.

I know that my older sister will be in town. And that will be nice. I never thought I’d miss her as much as I do. I think her crying in front of me smacked the humanity into the veins that run towards my cold, cold heart. lol. No but seriously, I miss her, and I can’t wait to see her, Dave and Mr. Biscuits.

this dog is so damned cute. IT AIN’T REAL!

and now I need to go dry my hair.