Why do all the dangerously sexy ones have to be druggies?! Remember about a month ago I went to the punk show with Kelly, Michelle, and Neil (Oct. 28)? and I saw that super-hot guy, whose name I now learn is Dan, and.. well.. I don't know, these stupid candy heart moments where we just see each other in the hallway, which really don't mean anything since I've only talked to him.. erm.. once.. and it's just a pathetic "crush" or infatuation or whatever you want to call it and this is the longest sentence I've ever written.

Anyway. Sam told me today he does crack and pot and heroin and...others. Which I guess is alright. Because nothing was ever going to come of it, to begin with. And it's not like all druggies are bad. Jake (one of my closest friends) is one. Well. But, no. He's not stupid, he's not frying his brain or anything. He knows his limits. I think. I don't know.

All of that nonsense makes it seem like I have something against druggies. I don't. They're fine people, and most of the time funny as all hell. They just make me worry, because I don't want them to die.P>

But the point I'm getting at here is that NOTHING EVER WORKS OUT FOR ME!!

What...is my problem?? Why don't the guys I like.. you know.. ever like me? I'm a nice, decent, young girl. I'm smart. I'm attractive. My personality.. it is good. I have a wide range of hobbies and interests. I like miniature golf.

Oh jeez. I'm super-whiny tonight. But I shouldn't be, because I'm only 16.. and I have my whole life to look forward to. It's just frustrating, sometimes. So, I'm sorry. Don't even know why I'm apologizing, it's not like anybody reads this baloney anyway. Maybe I'll change the subject.

Tofu lasagna is good. (This is much more interesting than my petty guy problems). I had some for dinner today. Mmm, boy.

Oh.. yeah.. I want to get my hair cut. You know, short. As in, "I'm short." Right now it's undergoing this awkward "Am I short? Am I long? Am I red? Am I brown? Do I flip up or curl under?" identity crisis. It's so much easier to have short hair. This is the longest it's been in since I was in the 8th grade. It's.. hrmm.. yeah, exactly shoulder-length. As soon as I cut it I'll want it to be long again, though. These are the simple joys of being a girl.

Mr. Letsch (get fresh with letsch), my Survey & comp student teacher, is such a dinko. I was going to explain how and why he is.. but.. it's indescribable. You'd have to be in my class to understand the sheer goofiness of him. But, you're not. I'm sorry. Or maybe you are; in which case, you know what I'm talking about.

They quoted me in the Carroll County Times. Pat cut it out for me, it was this article on what we're thankful for. I said, "I am thankful for Weezer, because Weezer is good." How's that for a wide vocabulary? Honestly, I didn't think they'd put it in there. But, you know, whatever. Weezer is damn good.

Oh boy is it hot outside. I think it was nearing 75� today. In two days it will be December, and it's not like I live in the deep south or anything. This is insanity. INSANITY. And it figures, because I just bought this big fuzzy awesome coat, and I'll never get to wear it. Well, unless I want to be a stinky, sweaty mess. Which I don't, thank you.

Do you ever just.. say a word over and over until it doesn't sound like a word anymore, more like meaningless garble? Yeah. I do. Probably because I'm an only child, and our means of amusement are scarce. I was saying "short." Just think about that word. "Short." What a crazy word.

Ok. Peas out. =megan=

Fun: "That Song" - Big Wreck

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