It's really weird that I'm excited for school. Last time I was excited for school, I was going into 10th grade, but that year turned out to be the worst thing that ever happened to me. There's somebody I really miss and dealing with the fact that I might not ever see her again is really difficult, even though it's been three years. I am covered in mosquito bites and I'm hoping for drier weather tomorrow so I can continue to make my chickens' enclosure safe for all. They're so cute. It's hard for me to think about leaving them because I love them.

I've started working on a new doll––the mermaid and British Sergeant of Police are almost fini. But I was inspired to make Marie Antoinette and I need powder blue fabric for her dress, wire for her hoop skirt, white linen for her petticoats, more tulle, and eyelet lace. I also need ornaments for her hair. But she's really cute and I love her.

I have some things to buy for school. I got my high school diploma in the mail today, two months late because I refused to go to the ceremony. I really was sort of hoping they'd not send it along, because it's really such a lame-ass momento of countless near-rape, near-ulcer, and near-death experiences. Do they want me to hang it over my desk? Why do I need this pathetic token of my worst experiences?

To my friends who are worrying about college, I've been out there in the vast sea of collegiateness for a year and it's nothing scary. It's hard saying goodbye to people, but I have awesome friends at my new school and I'm very excited to get to know them better and have adventures with them. We've formed like a Hogwarts House, us English-major Freshmen. Except I'm a Fre-Sophomore and one might be a Fre-Junior.

Also, I have a cold.