Lightning-Dono: Nami's update is quite simple to update. xD I know it says that Nami is the only girl you can marry that isn't in her teens, but screw that. :P

Answers to the Review

Tonystory – Thanks for the review and I'm glad you think it's interesting!

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Third of Spring

I'm not eating lunch today, so I thought I'd take a nip upstairs and write a little in this diary. The more I think about it, I guess having this thing isn't so bad. I can actually spiel in it and no one really minds, which is completely opposite of what they'd do if I actually started babbling infront of them. No, I'm not starving myself. People have convinced me that I'm already skinny as it is, but I just don't feel like going out to the Blue Bar to grab a drink today. Jack always "does so much work" that he likes to take break there every noon to fill up on Blue Punch. I find it ridiculous – what kind of decent farmer sits there getting tipsy when his cow is out in the field waiting for him? I hope it dies, maybe then it'll motivate him to stop being such a lazy bum. Then again, I'm not the most peppy, non-procrastinator anyway, so I have the right to remain silent.

I visited Kassey and Patrick today and apparently, their fireworks are coming along well. I still have no clue what they use them for, seeing that this town is all-too pathetic to set of fireworks around the shore for festivals. Perhaps he gives them to Mineral Town? I do believe they have a New Years festival that they celebrate with food, festivities, and ((gasp)) FIREWORKS. Forget-Me-Not Valley is such a boring, dull place. Certainly peaceful, but I can find more wrongs than possible. What kind of lame-o festivals do they hold? One at Romana's mansion that consists of chatting and random events (Which is why I don't attend it). It was yesterday and it was pretty much the talk of the valley for a day. I don't even see what's so exciting, it's the same thing every year. Then again, so is everything else. There's a couple at Gustafa's place that I don't mind showing my face at because he's my friend...plus there's music. Then there's that crappy "festival" at the Blue Bar that has no point WHATSOEVER. Why waste our time when we can simply sit at the base of trees, slinking in the shadows and twiddling our thumbs? I'd be more content then, seeing as I'm not the most social person in the world. After all, I really hated my family after what they've done. In fact, I'll just vent about it here.

My dad was an alcoholic. He drank day and night, never gave a damn about what my younger brother and I did, and walked around like a drugged penguin, blabbing about something that doesn't even make sense. Now do you see where my hatred for alcohol comes in? I hate the stuff. Jack reminds me of my father...therefore, I hate him. As a five-year old, I was never consoled in the ways of life. My mom worked full-time to support the family since my father couldn't live for a second without having the taste of beer lingering in his mouth. I thought my dad was drinking for health reasons, like the beer was medicine.

A year later, my father died. I was devastated – I thought he was a good person, that he did no wrong. But at the funeral when everyone was telling me what he had done right, I realized that they weren't shedding any light on his bad side - the one that abused my brother and I. Then again, this was his funeral, so I figured they were there to remember the person he was, not the person he had become.

I was eleven when I ran away from home. My mother had fallen prey to diabetic means and could no longer work as the severity of her conditions forced her out of it. She looked after my nine-year old brother was such care that I was pained to let her have to manage on her own, but I refused to see the bed that my father had slept in. The couch he had spent countless nights drinking on. The sink he had hangovers in. Everything was so painful I turned a dark eye on the world and simply left.

I traveled with what money I had, working servile jobs and trying to support myself, just to rebuild my life. I never had any illusions of grandeur – at the rate my life was going, I wasn't even fit to be in poverty. I was more like "Queen of the Hobos". That wasn't a title I wanted to earn.

A couple of years ago, I came here. At first sight, I thought that it was such a cute place, despite my rough disposition. I was gaunt and looked like someone had randomly tossed me out of a dumpster. But upon checking into the Inn, Tim and Ruby greeted me with such warmth and respect that I realized I had reached my point of exhaustion. I didn't want to travel anywhere else; this valley was my unknown destination...and home.

That's my story. I feel so much looser now that I've gotten that out: D