I think my sinus is going to fall off. Or fall out. Or implode. Or just...disintegrate.

It's definetly broken, in any case.

Stuart Kaufman asked my friend Kirsten to be his Prom date. She said no.

Stu is going through Stuberty. He is developing Stubic hair. Heh-heh-heh.

Oh, my Prom date is an asshole. He talks out of turn. He treats Mrs. Schnorr like a bum. He touched my tuckus. I don't want to go with him. I don't know why I agreed to go with him. I want to go with another boy. I think I'll ask him instead.

I feel like a geekface doing it online, though. And I suck at talking on the phone. And I can't see him face to face - there's a distance issue. So I suppose there's just no other way.

Now I don't even know if I will. We haven't talked for quite some time, and I hear he's changed a lot since we last did. And I've already been rejected by him once. And it hurt. A lot. Come to think of it, maybe this isn't such a good idea.

Hmm. I'm not really in a witty or creative kind of mood right now, so it may not be the best time for me to write an entry. I think I'll go do something.

I'll just leave you with this.

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