Amelia Mignonette Grimaldi Thermopolis Renaldo MOSCOVITZ
January 3, 5:30 am, Royal Genovian Jet I ran out of room in my diary, so Grandmére had this one personally engraved and everything for me. The cover was leather though-so I tore the pages out and stuck them in this binder. You would think she would remember that I'm vegetarian, and against animals being killed for the covers of journals. At least she remembered the Thermopolis, which was really odd. I wrote the Moscovitz. Oh shut up. Ok who am I saying shut up to? The whole Genovia trip was alright-I had no time to do anything, the stupid Genovian Planner had me booked all through the trip. I didn't even get to call my mom. Most of all, I couldn't concentrate on anything because I kept thinking about Michael, and how he kissed me. On the lips. With tongue. But does that mean we are "going out"? He never really said anything about it seeing as how the last time I saw him his tongue was busy-but really, does he think of me as more than just his little sister's best friend whom he occasionally likes to stick his tongue down her throat? And Lilly-Gosh what does she think? I don't want to see her because she's just going to say something about it. I don't blame her though, it must be gross seeing your brother kiss a girl, but seeing your brother kiss your best friend has to be life scarring. I have to go back to school on Monday-tomorrow-so I have to see her sometime. Oh my god. Kenny. I have to see Kenny. Kenny who broke up with me at the winter carnival. Kenny who broke up with me because he thinks I'm in love with Boris, the mouth breathing shirt tucking in Boris! I so don't want to explain it to him. But really, what's there to explain except that I'm not in love with Boris. It's not like Michael's my boyfriend or anything.
January 3, 9:00 am, The Loft I'm HOME! I got home and Mr. G answered the door in his pjs, He said mom had gotten up but she ran to the bathroom. She's in there puking. Poor mom. I brought my stuff in while Mr. Gianini (Frank! Frank!) held her hair back. Mom called out to me and said Welcome Home! What a welcome that is. I guess I can blame my future half brother or sister. I went into my room and picked up Fat Louie. They must have not fed him the way I specified on the sheet of paper I gave them, because he's not so fat anymore. I think I'm going to call Lilly. I think I will take a shower first.
January 3, 5:30 am, Royal Genovian Jet I ran out of room in my diary, so Grandmére had this one personally engraved and everything for me. The cover was leather though-so I tore the pages out and stuck them in this binder. You would think she would remember that I'm vegetarian, and against animals being killed for the covers of journals. At least she remembered the Thermopolis, which was really odd. I wrote the Moscovitz. Oh shut up. Ok who am I saying shut up to? The whole Genovia trip was alright-I had no time to do anything, the stupid Genovian Planner had me booked all through the trip. I didn't even get to call my mom. Most of all, I couldn't concentrate on anything because I kept thinking about Michael, and how he kissed me. On the lips. With tongue. But does that mean we are "going out"? He never really said anything about it seeing as how the last time I saw him his tongue was busy-but really, does he think of me as more than just his little sister's best friend whom he occasionally likes to stick his tongue down her throat? And Lilly-Gosh what does she think? I don't want to see her because she's just going to say something about it. I don't blame her though, it must be gross seeing your brother kiss a girl, but seeing your brother kiss your best friend has to be life scarring. I have to go back to school on Monday-tomorrow-so I have to see her sometime. Oh my god. Kenny. I have to see Kenny. Kenny who broke up with me at the winter carnival. Kenny who broke up with me because he thinks I'm in love with Boris, the mouth breathing shirt tucking in Boris! I so don't want to explain it to him. But really, what's there to explain except that I'm not in love with Boris. It's not like Michael's my boyfriend or anything.
January 3, 9:00 am, The Loft I'm HOME! I got home and Mr. G answered the door in his pjs, He said mom had gotten up but she ran to the bathroom. She's in there puking. Poor mom. I brought my stuff in while Mr. Gianini (Frank! Frank!) held her hair back. Mom called out to me and said Welcome Home! What a welcome that is. I guess I can blame my future half brother or sister. I went into my room and picked up Fat Louie. They must have not fed him the way I specified on the sheet of paper I gave them, because he's not so fat anymore. I think I'm going to call Lilly. I think I will take a shower first.