I Might Be Miley
Dear Diary,
Isn't it funny how things pile one on top of the other until you have a hazardous tower of problems and commitments? Eventually, even the smallest task can send the entire tower into smithereens, and random people who don't know that you have so many problems think you're just spazzing out irrationally. To avoid confusion, you have to tell the entire story, so the person who accused you of spazzing out in the first place doesn't think you're a freaky bitch who needs to go to anger management classes. Once everything was out you felt much better, didn't you?
Well, I decided to eliminate the need to spill my anger management-needing guts out to random people I meet who happen to be the lucky (not) people I spaz out all over. To do this, I write everything down in Lenny, my favorite bubble gum pink diary/journal thinggie. There has never been a problem with this method of storing my spaz-feelings until now.
Lenny is in jeopardy of being abducted but my college age brother, Jackson. He seems to think that his livelihood depends on whether or not I have embarrassing stories about him that I'll break out the next time he gets a serious girlfriend, just to embarrass him. And, of course, he's hoping that some embarrassing stories about me might be in there as well.
To save my dear Lenny from Jackson, I had to –sniff- burn him. But, I had almost all of him committed to memory. But there is one particular event that I want to have in crystal clarity for the rest of my life. I ripped the pages from Lenny out and have glued them to the pages of my new notebook.
How, you may feel inclined to ask, does burning Lenny and them going directly into another notebook save your embarrassing stories? I answer with another question. If you were going to try to steal you little sister's diary, would you expect the diary to be kept in the pink fuzzy notebook with "PRIVATE!" stickers all over it, or the plain purple notebook with "ALGEBRA II/TRIG" written on the cover with a sharpie? That is the difference between Lenny and my new journal/diary. I will name you Vince. From this point forward, all my new entries are going to be headed: "Dear Diary Vince," The same way I headed Lenny's pink pages.
I don't want to use up all of my new Target brand notebook just writing the introduction, and besides, I still want to have pages for my story. So, Vince, please do not think badly of me after hearing about my darkest time. Just accept it as my history, and remember that you are sworn to secrecy.
Now, I have to go find a new hiding place for my diary before Jackson comes in and finds me here.
Your new friend,
Miley Stewart.