I hate stress.

I hate doing Not My Kid presentations at the last minute for a gym full of sweaty, antsy, cranky adults.

I hate turbulence.

But I really like my friends, despite the... um... stormy skies that have been overhead for the past two days. (Which is odd, because I thought yesterday was really fun).

Why are girls so catty?

Really?

We can be so cruel to each other. I hate watching it.

It seems like I'm the only one who cares about the person being hurt. Which is nothing new, really.

I don't like how everyone else just tramples on them. It's not cool, guys.

Sometimes I feel like I just take the heat for everyone. I'm an all terrain shock absorber. Which is ok; I just wish there weren't any shocks to begin with.

The burden of caring. Well, not a burden. I welcome it, actually. Caring is good quality stuff. But unfortunatly suffering is a prerequisite for compassion.

I'm a peace-loving individual... I don't enjoy the fighting, or the talking about the fighting or anything bad like that.

But venting is good. By all means, vent.

Aughhh.

Can't we all just love each other? Love = fun, nice times. Hate = bad, scary times.

Please god, don't make me go through another one of those alliance of three fights... please please please please please that was the stinkiest thing to have ever stunk.

I LOVE YOU ALL!!!!!!!!

SO LOVE EACH OTHER!!!!!

(But please, wear a rubber).

But seriouslly, I do love all of you guys.

I honestly do.

And I'm not drunk.

And even if I was, I would still never beat you guys up.

You're all so much cooler than Dave Coulier.

And Tracy, it's "jeAlous" in case you were pondering the correct spelling. And I will start the Just Say No group as soon as my head explodes. Which will be soon, believe me.

--edit--

And so I'll just have no Homecoming date this year. This is not a problem normally, but all of my friends will be datin' it up.

I will be the sad girl in the corner talking with the chaperones while all the young, attractive people slow dance with each other.

I do not want to be the sad girl in the corner. Because normally I am not a sad girl, and I have no strange affinity to corners.

And I really think Mr. Fritch is too old for me.

Which sucks.

But maybe I'm jumping my guns and some magically delicious boy will ask me.

That would be neat.

Cause I'm getting tired of doing all the asking. Y'all need to get some balls.

Lordy, this is silly business. I can't believe it actually matters this much to me.

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