Disclaimer: You hopefully know what's mine and what isn't. If it came from Tamora Pierce, it's hers, not mine.
Just after Midsummer
Dear Diary.
There. It is written. I feel all the more pathetic for writing it down because it is physical evidence hat I actually had the gumption to think it.
In all honesty, it's not just my pathetic-ess that has gotten me to write the dreaded words 'dear diary'. I decided the best course is just to stick with the stereotypical heading. Because I couldn't come up with anything more creative. Do you think it would sound better if I said 'dear Josephine'? or 'dear me' (That last one sounds like something my grandmother would say)? Certainly not. Because after all, I am not writing in a 'josephine', or a 'me'. I am writing in a DIARY!! However much I don't want to admit it, that is still what I am doing.
So, in short, please don't judge me for being so hopelessly un-creative and stereotypical. I try very hard not to be (sometimes) and it appears that diaries shall be one area in which I will fail miserably at this.
Signed,
Miri
mental note: Find hiding place safe from obnoxious trainees.
note to self: You're pathetic.
The first day of Midwinter.
Dear Diary,
Today is the first day of Midwinter. Kind of obvious if you actually took the time to read the date...(not that you should be reading this in the first place!).
I hate Holidays.
It's official, that after today, I will never enjoy another holiday (Fear not, this will not be another pointless rant). Midwinter is not usually one of my favorite holidays, simply because it's so cold out, but the events of today have inspired me to hate holidays in general.
This morning started pleasantly enough. I was having a perfect dream about...well, I don't really remember what it was about, but you get the point.
Then I woke up. Or rather, was woken up. My commander and best friend in the whole world, Evin Larse somehow climbed in my bedroom window (how he managed this I can't figure, as my bedroom's on the second floor. I also can't figure why he didn't just use the door. It's so much easier). This was all under the pretense of 'going shopping'. In truth, I think he wanted to turn me into a holiday hater. Due to his valiant efforts, I am sure to become a lonely old spinster who yells at children for sneezing near her house. If this was his intention, I can assure you he has succeeded admirably.
Somehow (with Evin there are a lot of somehows) he managed to convince the other member of our trio, a girl named Kim, to meed us outside the Rider barracks. At the ungodly hour of six in the morning. This means that I was woken at about five, because despite all my reassurances, Evin seems convinced I need nearly an hour to get ready in the morning. Honestly, if I took that long, I would have dropped out of the Riders long ago. So I was forced, against my will, to drag my sorry bum outside on the first day of Midwinter. Or rather, Evin did the dragging and I did the protesting.
Kim, who has a huge crush on Evin (what she sees in him, I'll never know) spent the day making cow eyes at him while he asked my opinion on any number of random objects that struck his fancy.
There was one I liked - a polished paperweight made of some sort of green stone with purple veins. As for the rest of them; this was too girly, that was ugly, that one was too much like something from my grandmothers house...I still don't know what one he ended up getting, if any. I still can't see why we had to go shopping at all, let alone why I had to come.
We ate lunch at an Inn Kim recommended - some tavern called the Dancing Dove. My drink was warm and the pasty cold in the center.
Once we arrived back at the Barracks, I discovered Adelyn, Drew and Aaron playing a game of Caps, a game that has recently become popular with the Riders. I don't understand it, and doubt I ever will. Of course Evin's an expert, and he wanted to sit there and play a round, which quickly became several hours. Of course Kim and I sat there and watched him sweep the table, having nothing better to do. At least the talk is interesting, and I've got a basic idea of the game now. One would hope so, after sitting through thirteen rounds worth. I know now that the results of this game are you losing all your money to Evin. All the more reason for me not to play. I haven't got any money to lose, let alone to Evin.
It's already two in the morning and I can't fall asleep - Buri's dog is howling (why on earth did I ever let Evin convince her a dog was a good idea?) and there's a cricket somewhere near my ear that won't shut up. This has not been a good day. Is it any wonder I've decided to hate holidays?
note to self: hire someone to steal that idiotic dog.
Signed,
Your holdiay hating, sleep needing, dog murdering Miri
The Day after.
Dear Diary,
I feel like such an idiot. This morning when I woke up I found Evin's gift waiting at the foot of my bed. (I'd given him a family of carved wooden ducks). Inside was the paperweight.
Signed,
One thoroughly idiotic and confused Miri Fisher