First, to all the dickheads who ran my high school: I HAVE CONQUERED YOU. YES I HAVE.

And, having gotten that off my chest, I'd like to say that this time of my life is as wonderful as ninth grade percussion. If you know me, you know what a big deal that is. I've never said that about anything before. It keeps hitting me in pieces that Miho is gone but I guess I just have to wait for the big wave that's going to murder me with missing her. Everything else is so wonderful. I have made friends here who I feel like I've known forever and who I intend to know forever. Hopefully my two best friends (who don't really know each other) will accompany me to the Tim Burton opening on November 22! That's exciting as crap.

Last night I did my school's open mic night and it went really well such that people were commending me all day. I like commendation. I was also appointed Assistant Layout Editor of the school newspaper, The MounTimes. People are still talking about my article. It came out yesterday and it is about the mutant roach infestation in the dorm buildings. I'm going to post it. It is called "Legos of Satan." And yes I've been called out for that since publication! This is a Catholic school after all.

I'm also on a diet. My goal is to lose weight while nearly everyone else gains.

I made some hardcore paper chains for my dorm. The RAs said I just need to take them down when the room inspection people come in.

I'm also really mad that married Catholics (AND EPISCOPALIANS––WHAT THE FLYING HELLFUCK) can become ROMAN CATHOLIC PRIESTS. I can't. But I'm ready to give up my whole life for this. THEY'RE NOT APPROPRIATE, BENEDICT. THIS DEFIES ALL FOR WHICH WE THEOLOGICALLY STAND.

I just buried Miho. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. It really was. Most of you guys know that Miho is my favorite chicken I ever had.

Miho liked eating plastic and sunflower seeds. She ate Band-Aids off people's feet. When I buried her, I put a bandage around her foot that said "OATSY+MIHO+CHARLOTTE I LOVE YOU MIHO" in Sharpie and around her other foot I put a gold bracelet. There are three. One I am wearing and the other one I'm saving for Oatsy. I buried her wrapped up in the clothes I was wearing when I met Katie––my skirt and my jeans jacket.

I don't know how I buried her. She saved my life. She raised me. She made me good. She got me through Katie. She got me through so much. She got me through my family. All I wanted was another winter where I could rescue her in the blizzard. Carry her back to the warm coop. Or be sad and wish I could sleep there all night because my chickens were my family. She taught me to be the best I could.

I just held her. And then it was time. My sweet girl, my best girl is going to be my guide to the next thing, just like always. I'll always love Miho. She'll change the world by the things I do. She'll live forever.

I knew her time had come to a close but I know I'll see her again. My girl. My best girl.

I'm going home today, leaving all my friends at school: Alice, Piñata, Unicorn, Victor and Corpse Bride, my mermaids, Togepi, Julian, and Window Bunneh––not to mention the unfinished dolls. Actually I'm leaving real people, and some already left here, but that's beside the point. Things are amazing here at school. I've made some truly wonderful friends, none of them male. The air conditioner is freezing my arse off and times are SO GOOD. (I love to freeze, not because I like being cold but because I overheat in normal temperatures and a happy medium has hardly surfaced thus far.)

I need Bristol paper, socks, and new jeans and hopefully I can accomplish at least one of these over the three-day weekend.

My dog Genevieve has 2 brain tumors. She can live with one of them but the other needs to be cut out, and that's a toss-up because it's dangerous. The one that needs to go is cutting off her spinal cord which caused the seizure-like spasms she went through. Most likely they were not seizures but contortions in response to incredible pain. We are praying that she will be alright.

I'll probably write another Journal entry sometime over the weekend. So everyone, have fun celebrating the dickhead who came here thinking it was India just to enslave, torture, rape, and make terribly ill the people who were here first! Happy birthday to my friends and anniversary to my parents.

<sup>Today we celebrate the feast day of what JP2 called "the greatest Saint of modern times," Thérèse of Lisieux, a Carmelite nun who died at the age of 24, who lived in monastic enclosure for nearly half of her short life and whose death was noticed by few. We know Thérèse through her autobiography The Story of a Soul, which she wrote in response to the Prioress of her community, who happened to be her elder biological sister Pauline. Thérèse's story is a story of great love and great sorrow. She is a model of perfect self-mastery and offered all of her sufferings to Jesus, in the extreme. She is a beautiful reminder of the love of Jesus. Before her death, Saint Thérèse promised, "I will let fall from Heaven a shower of roses…I will spend my Heaven doing good on Earth."

Saint Thérèse is very responsible for saving my own life and possibly the lives of some of the people closest to me. We share a lot in common and to repay her for all she has done for me, I will attempt to answer her petition to bring souls to Jesus through her glorious intercession. She is the Patron Saint of my website, She May Be a Nun.</sup>

Saint Thérese, please pray for us.

On another note, I have started going to daily Mass and praying the rosary between three and five times a day, and I love it. Thank you to the Archangels, Padre Pio and St. Thérèse for all of the unremarkable miracles that have taken place in my life in the past week.