Burma Might be a Peninsula

Whew. My mother has left the house for what I estimate to be approximately twenty minutes, meaning I have about twenty minutes to write on the blog. If I hear one more thing about homework, test scores, or stupidity, I will explode. Which would certainly not be fun.

I'm glad you are ready for the change. Well, not "the" change. The change in seasons. It sounds like a good time, I think. I thought about rolling down the car window today in History and how much I enjoy it, and I got really excited, until I remembered that the allergy doctor told me I shouldn't do this anymore. But that stinks, actually, so I would rather not listen to this little bit of advice.

What should I get on? And do not make fun of Enrique. I'm sorry my tasted are not as refined as others might be. Or are they more so? We shall never know.

Poor little Butternut. I would rub your head if I were able to, and you know that. I apologize I cannot drive. One day. In fifty years or so.

I am extremely proud of you for asking for homework. You are doing quite well. Don't worry about such things. Also, I talked to Sara about your pukey library books, and she said that her mother would not lose any respect for you just because you got sick. You couldn't control it, so stop fretting. Fret is a fun word.

I'm writing that english paper, and it is actually exciting me for my future, a little bit. I thought it would stress me out completely, but I've realized that when I write what I want to do, without thinking about what other people want me to do, I feel much better. Ambassador would be fun. Eileen wanted to be in the U.N., but then went on to describe her hatred for politics. I'm pretty sure the U.N. has to deal with politics, but I didn't want to burst her happy little bubble.

I should have timed when my mother left.

I think it was good, but maybe she shouldn't have stressed just HOW much the school is for troubled students? I don't know. I don't want to know how my father feels about that.

I think Latin is okay, but maybe something that I could speak to other people would be nice. And not, like, strange people who live in Indiana thinking that it is ancient Rome.

Yes, I believe we are always lying. Always, always. It is insane, but we can't do anything about it. Because there is NO WAY that everyone will be completely open. And really, I'm not so sure that this would be a good thing. Everyone being open, I mean. Sure, it is great to get as much as you can out there, and it is important to express your feelings, but everything? Impossible. Maybe lying, as you said, keeps us together. But it also keeps us apart, if this is at all possible.

The scabs that have formed under my nostrils from blowing my nose so much are beginning to peel, and it is quite uncomfortable.

Do we all have souls, really? What exactly is the soul? In Dorian Gray, he "sells" his soul for eternal youth, but it is always right there, in the painting. He always has his soul. I don't think that this is giving anything away. It says it on the back, actually. I was just thinking about it. Whether or not we could sacrifice ideas and morals for something else.

What is the connection between lying and lying and telling the truth and standing up?

Maybe you don't have a choice entirely, but you can try to influence yourself, or you can try to make others influence you, or you can work on overcoming whatever mindset you have that is blocking you from any other.

You're fine, Abigail.

Revolution! Fun times, maybe. Maybe not. It seems like a frightening idea, which might be why stirring things up sounds so appealing.

"Err...selling...goods...stolen...errr..." was all that the embarrassed Ragpicker could mumble. The Ticketmaster, who had always seemed to think somewhat highly of the Ragpicker's intelligence, did not approve of her work as an illegal trader, and at this mention of the despised job, she frowned. "Oh--still up to your old ways, huh?" she said somewhat angrily. The Ragpicker patted the Ticketmaster's sweaty hand, and they let the argument slide for possibly the millionth time.

I hope Memaw played Scrabble with you.
We played Go Fish today in Seminar. Good times, I'm tellin' ya.

Surprise brownies are almost finished.
As guilty as I will feel after for eating S.S.'s birthday food,
I think I will eat a small piece.
Very small.

What is this quotation from?
I like it, I think.

Oh, goodness.
I am in pain.
Farewell.

Lots and lots of pain.
Argh.//,klal;ksdfj