Happy Birthday Jim Carrey!*Sarcastic mode: On*
W00t I didn't sleep last night. Baby doggeh wouldn't let me do it. He kept crying and peeing all around. Moving-Jumping-Having Nightmares. I wonder what puppies dream about.... Well... I slept from 9 am to 11 am.
I'm mad at someone... but I don't know who. Well I think I do. But I have no right, I guess. I'm really disappointed. Man... I'm hurt.
Damn inspiration is gone. I can't think. I try and try and try and all I do is sh*t.
I'm f*cking tired of crying.
AND DON'T YOU EVEN DARE TELLING ME TO GO TO A DAMN PSYCHATRIST. *mother of orthography* I'm not in da mood of writing correctly. I guess I'm just bored.
----> I'm the cutest thing when I cry... and sing at the same time, anyway.
Struck SpeechlessArnold had been faithfully sending her letters ever since he moved to San Lorenzo to be with his newly-found parents. Before he had boarded the bus, he'd pulled her aside to promise her that he would write her, and yes, he was a man of his word. She knew that he was also writing to the rest of his former classmates, but she felt especially privileged to be the only one he mailed once every two weeks. He called it his way of "getting to know the real her" and vice versa. Mostly his letters were about San Lorenzo, what it was like to finally have parents in his life again, questions about the health of his grandparents, other classmates, and his eternal thanks to her for her help in finding his parents.More Like This
She always meant to write him back -- really, she did. She was just too busy with helping out at the boarding house and her dad's business, and good old Arnold assumed that was the case, so he continued to write her. He once told her that he got enough information about her out of Phoebe