Journal of the Wicked.
Disclaimer: We do not own Wicked in any way, shape, or form - much to our disappointment. We borrow the characters as we please and make them work at will, or so the will of our muse.
Warning: Nothing too serious.
Author's note: Here is something we came up with to fill in the time before we give you our crack Swan Queen fic. Each chapter is going to be a diary entry, with me (Hoot) writing Elphaba and Grumbello writing Galinda (sensing a theme here?). The entries will follow the girls from the time they're roomed together, through their budding friendship, and perhaps in to something more.
-xo-
Dear Diary,
Please excuse my annoyance, but how in Shiz am I supposed to room with her for four years? She's just so… blonde! And not only that; she's popular, loud, and thinks she's entitled just because she's of the Upper Upplands! Who exactly does she think she's is? My father is the Governor of Munchkinland, but I'm not assuming special treatment because of it (who am I kidding, I'd never get special treatment even If I was 'normal'). And moreso, I'm supposed to be looking after Nessarose, and now I'm not even doing that! I guess I should be grateful that I'm still in Shiz, even if I'm not fulfilling the sole reason I was sent here.
But seriously, she doesn't take her study seriously, fashion is her number one choice for anything, and her friends follow her around like puppies. She incorrigible! She even asked Dr. Dillamond why he was 'harping on about the past' in History. Doesn't that show how much of a bad idea putting us together it? And Boq. Dear, sweet Boq. He thinks he's in love with her, and it's all I hear from him. It's been a day!
Oh, and the nail paint! It's everywhere! Every shade of pink you could think of and she has it. Does she keep it in one spot though? No; it's on her desk, on the floor, under her bed, and I'm sure even in her bed. Then there's the matching bags, shoes, and dresses. I'm sure by the end of the term she's going to have more dresses than there are girls here in Shiz!
Have I mentioned her perfume? It's lavender and something; it smells awful! And the time it takes her to wash! I mean, I don't use water, but if I did, I'm sure there'd be no hot water left!
And the worst part? She feels the need to insult me every chance she gets! And, they're not even clever insults, either.
This is our first night together and already I can feel myself going mildly insane.
I apologise, Diary. I am ranting, aren't I? I'm not like this, you know. But, she gets on my nerve like no one ever has. One of us is surely going to kill the other by the end of the week, and my bet is it isn't going to be her.
Mildly annoyed,
Elphaba.