Hello, this is a disclaimer...disclaimers make me sad because I have to face the reality of my not owning Harry Potter and honestly, I HATE facing reality!


Date: August 30

Murderous thoughts about parental units: an unsafe amount

Talents: ...zero

Boyfriend: as of yet, none

Hello…diary?

Two months ago my dads (Yes, yes there are two of them) told me that they thought I needed to see a therapist. Something about holding in emotions…I DON'T HOLD IN EMOTIONS, DAMN IT!

…sorry, ignore that outburst…Let's get back to what I was saying: my parents told me I needed to see a therapist; their sixteen year old daughter. Not her twin brother, oh no, not Benjamin the perfect little Ravenclaw! Apparently I need someone to talk to.

Anywho, I can proudly say I managed to avoid a meeting for two whole months. Yesterday? Not so lucky. They lured me to the car with false pretenses of ice cream and then dragged me to a shrink's office.

I hate shrinks.

I told that shrink I hated shrinks. No, sorry, I'm wrong, I actually screamed "I HATE SHRINKS!" at her shrinkyly calm and collected face. Then you know what she did, irritating shrink, she said:

"And why would that be Shoshanna? Do you have any memories that you feel burdened with that you would like to entrust to me?"

Here's my very mature, about-to-be-a-sixth-year response: "I wouldn't entrust anything to you, EVER! Because, guess what, YOU'RE A TOTAL STRANGER! My parents used to say never to talk to strangers, but I guess now they're encouraging it! The only stranger I'd entrust my (here I did some sophisticated, little finger wiggles) burdeny memories to is a hot, bloke stranger. BECAUSE I MIGHT GET A SNOG OUT OF THAT!" Then I turned my chair to the ugly, yellow wall. Why anyone paints anything that color is beyond me.

I'm terribly mature, right?

So, because I don't feel I've developed a good enough relationship with you (SARCASM ALERT) I can't yet entrust to you the horrifying memories that burden me about THAT crazed place so I think I'll just sum up the details:

Mental shrink said that she'd tell my parents I don't need to see her any more if I promised to write every day in this diary. It's a magical diary that records when I do the entries and how many pages they are (my daily ones have to be at least two)…then, it sends the date and page count to her.

At least I don't have to see that shrink anymore…uggghhhhhhhhhh, not even a page yet…

I guess I'll tell you 'bout myself. That should take up some space.

How do I put this?

Well, I'll just paint it in black and white to get it over with:

I am one half of an Italian pair of twins that were born to an Italian whore (like, actually)…so my blood dad has not, and will not, be appearing any time soon. My mother died in childbirth so my brother and I were raised by her brother and his Jewish partner. My Nonna was a Pureblood witch who married a muggle. They had two squibs? I'm not sure if my mother and dad/uncle count as squibs. I mean, they're half muggle already. Anyway, Nonna comes from a long line of Ravenclaws. Aaron, my other dad, is a muggle. I live in London, England and I'm a witch at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'm going into sixth year and my birthday's October thirty first. I was born at eleven fifty seven on Halloween, while my brother got off with tweleve oh two. November first. I do not enjoy this fact even though it is one of the only things I've ever beaten him at. You try having your birthday on a hol! Especially Halloween, and believe me, I've heard ALL the jokes concerning why I was born on that date. So don't even try. I'm Jewish. I got Gryffindor; while my brother got Ravenclaw, the smart house. The family house. My brother also got off with Benjamin while I received Shoshanna.

To top it all off; now that I'm looking this over, I'm beginning to suspect that maybe I do have a few, note: FEW, pent up issues…great. Even my brain is starting to think I've gone bonkers.

...

It's still not okay to get your own daughter a therapist though!

-Shosanna

P.S. I've a cat named Elena that might be the only one who actually likes my singing…I'm pretty good though. Honest, I am!

Well, it actually sort of depends on the judge...you know, if she/he happens to be deaf or not…

P.P.S. My goals this year are to acquire a first rate boyfriend, get Lu (my best friend) to finally admit she wants Daniel Boot, and find some hidden talents (THAT FOR GODRIC'S SAKE BETTER BE IN THERE!)

P.P.P.S. What do these 'P.S.' things stand for anyway? I should find out…