For just a few moments, I wasn't stuck in Lubbock, in the middle of the school year, wishing I was anywhere else.

I was back at Ceta Canyon.

I was sitting there, and all of a sudden, I could smell it. I could smell ceta. And then I wasn't sitting at a table inside of Sugar Brown's. I was sitting at a table outside, freezing, with a big shirt to keep me warm, down in a canyon, surrounded by people who were completely different from the people I was sitting with at Sugar Brown's.

And then I was back, listening to live Christmas music, and watching Corina drink water from a mangled cup.



It was nice. I wish it would happen more often.

Eye Dee Kay. My momma's going out of town tomorrow morning, so it's just me and my father this weekend. I decided I'm not staying the night at anyone's house, so that my dad doesn't have to stay home alone. I am gonna have a pretty late night Saturday, though.


I learned that the source of my bad mood has been drivers ed. It's sucked away my life, and my options of going to Sugar Brown's. It's made me moody and upset. Yay for reasons I'm being a bitch!


But really, I have been. I've been so argumentative. I've punched Spencer about a million times. Today I think I made him bruise.


Spencer: -says something asshole-ish about a really killer picture I drew of a giraffe-
Hannah: See, that's why I'm mean to you, because you're mean to me.
Spencer: How was that mean to you?
Hannah: When you make fun of a drawing I'm proud of, that's mean.
Spencer: It's not my fault it looked like -something stupid, which I don't remember-
Girl Who Sits Next To Me: You should make fun of him back.
Hannah: I do, only at opportune moments.
Spencer: -says something mean-
Girl: Well, it doesn't look like it's working. Or maybe he just gets off on it.
Hannah: -looks at Spencer- Yeah, that's probably it.
Spencer: What?
Girl: Yeah, definitely.
Spencer: Okay, I'm confused.
Hannah: What? Sexually?
Spencer: No, I'm not, but about the whole of St. John's is.
Hannah: -sits in shock for about fifteen seconds, with her jaw dropped, and her blood boiling, then punches Spencer pretty hard, but not as hard as she can, on the shoulder, and hisses:- Fucker!
Everyone Who Sits Around Us: What?? What'd he say??
Hannah: -sits doodling on her spiral, close to tears. It's been a long day-
Spencer: What?
Hannah: I've gone to that church all my life. It's basically my home.
Spencer: What? I'm not saying it's a bad thing.
Hannah: The way you said it made you sound like it was.
Everyone: What? What'd he say?!?!
Hannah: -sits doodling some more. After a while:- I'm sorry I punched you, Spencer.
Spencer: Don't be, it wasn't right for me to say that.
Everyone: AWHHHHHHH! WOULDN'T IT BE CUTE IF THEY GOT MARRIED?!
Hannah and Spencer: EWH GROSS STFU!








The End.

Spoon lines are lots of fun. And also very uncomfortable when you need to turn over.

Birthday parties are the greatest. Every year mine get smaller, but i like it like that. This year we went to the farm and roasted marsh mellows and made Jiffy Pop and stayed up until 4:00 laughing our butts off. Then we spooned.

I love those girls. I love that I have friends like them. I love birthdays.


But I don't understand birthdays. I mean, what's so special about you on your birthday. I mean, is it like, "Hoorah, you survived another year!"? Because you didn't really do anything on your birth date. If anything, it's the moms who should be celebrated on that day.

What ever. Don't question the logic. No birthdays means no birthday parties. And birthday parties are the greatest.

Though it wasn't the worst line I'd ever heard, it was certaintly the most talked about, for that week, anyhow.

At Ceta Canyon, the senior high church camp is the same week as the elementary church camp. We'd all been through the elementary camp, and some of the councilors were our own age. We knew the things they thought.

I was trekking out to the gym, where I would meet with my flavor-of-the-week who would become the flavor of my summer, when a cute little boy walked up to me. He was probably in third or fourth grade, but I don't know, he could have been older. My perception of kids has declined as my childhood has been left.

"Hi," he said, smiling up at me with his cute little boy grin.
"Hi," I said, smiling down at him.
"I lost my teddy bear," he said.
Awh, poor kid, I thought. I'd lost my Lamby at camp before. It sucked.
"Can I sleep with you instead?"





"How old are you?" I asked, shocked. I forget what he answered, but my eyes were drawn to a group of guys who were maybe just a little older than me laughing on the fence.





Apparently, the kids had been going around asking girls questions like that all day. It was great.

Last night I went to bed with a bit of a headache and thought to myself, "Maybe this will carry on to the morning, and I won't have to go to school." I'm not sure why I didn't want to, because all my homework is done, and there's not really anyone I don't want to see. I just didn't want to go. 

I got up at 6:40, like I do every morning, and stood in the bathroom freezing for five or six minutes. Then I turned on the shower and got in. The water was hot. Hot Hot Hot. Scalding. And I was hungry.

The combination of burning water and an empty stomach caused my movements to be lethargic, and my head to become dizzy. I nearly passed out before I could wash my face.

So I went back to bed and didn't go to school.



I suppose if I had gone to school it wouldn't have been a bad day. I could have eaten some breakfast and whatnot. It wouldn't have been a problem, really. And I knew that, as I went back to bed. So I can't help but wonder why I decided to stay home. I really wish I knew. 

When I read a really good book I start to think the way the narrator writes.

Not their opinions or anything. I don't necessarily begin to agree with them. But the way they would speak if I were to hold a conversation with them is the way I start to think. 

I like it that way.




I also learned something about myself recently. When something happens, I think about it as if I was writing a paper, or an entry in my journal. I'm not sure why I do this, but it's the only way I can formulate thoughts in my mind. I would like to write down every "entry" I think up, because the things I think up are so much better than they would be if I were to sit down with the intent of writing in my journal, but I hold my pencil wrong, so it takes double the time to write things down.

I learn about myself by thinking this way. For instance, I was watching a video on some person's myspace. It was a bit Cheesy, and very, very Religious,  and it was a song which was acted out. It was about a girl who found Jesus, then lost Jesus, then worked her way back to him. For some reason, it made me cry, though those things usually only get to me at church camp.

Anyhow, while watching this, the imaginary pen set it's point on the imaginary sheet of college ruled notebook paper that is my brain.

"While watching this video I began to wonder, 'Have I lost Jesus?' I contemplated the thought, rolling it over in my mind. Could Jesus be trying to reach me? Am I ignoring him?"

That's the first time I'd ever thought those things. A normal person wouldn't think of things in that manor. A normal person would first think, "Have I lost Jesus? Is He trying to reach me? Am I ignoring him?" Then they would form those thoughts into something a bit more organized.

I think the reason for this is that I wish to be a writer more than anything. Well, more than any profession. I know that I will never be a writer, but I wish I could  be one. You see, all my life I have written things. And I work so hard in my English class to write the papers that she shows on the projector, because I crave that sort of attention. So I'm constantly trying out new ways to form my sentences, new words to use, new structures and dialects and connotations. I do it so much that it's gotten to be the way I am.

1. I don't listen to current mainstream music because it makes me sick to my stomach with nostalgia.
2. sometimes the pictures of me that are the worst, I find to be the best, because that's what I really look like when I'm happy, and laughing.
3. whenever I think about things, I think as though I'm writing a paper. that's the way I learn about myself.
4. I want to be a sex therapist or an English prof when I grow up.
5. I'm obsessed with making lists.


that's it, for now. :]