I am extremely tired having recently returned from classes. The bus ride wasn't as cramped as usual but just as long because of the heat, and because I had nothing to look at or it'd seem very much like I was staring at someone. Not that it really matters though, but either way, I prefer looking at the 'view. ' Anyways, I'm not much in the writing mood right now. I'm so used to just rambling on like in my journal entries only I tend to forget almost that I'm turning this in. Well, actually, I haven't forgotten that because I am not getting personal with this. Which reminds me, I haven't written anything in a while. I mean, anything all together, not just journal entries and such. Did I ever tell you how I started writing in a journal? First, let me note that I call it a journal, not a diary because it sounds much too feminine and prissy. A silly thought, I know, but that just shows how immature I was when I first started. That also reflects another aspect of the way my family is, but I won't go there. It's too complicated and no one will ever be able to figure it out. Really, my family and I are all about each other. People who know any or all of us may find that odd especially if they aren't so content with their family or at least at the moment. But, like I said, completely different, controversial, complex topic. I'll just end up talking myself in circles again. But like I was saying, my first journal was from Mrs. Stevens, my seventh grade English teacher who I used to help sometimes in the mornings when we actually got to school early enough for me to have time to assist her. I was her teacher aide, which was something that junior honor society students got to do. It (the honor society and everything else involved with junior high) really is petty, among other generally negative things. Well, let me type faster so that I can finish this lame, boring story. Well, at the end of the year, as is customary, we exchanged presents once again. I of course was broke as usual so I think I ended up giving her some flowers that I got from my aunt's wedding the weekend before. Hey, I think I did that with my secret teacher too. Yup. Anyways, she (Mrs. Stevens) gave me a journal because of the one almost actual conversation that we had (I wasn't very good at being social then, if you can't tell). We had talked about writing and I mentioned how I thought that it would be awesome to actually write a book someday, something great that I can sit back and just stare at knowing that I put all those words together, I wrote all of that. I don't know, I like to see good effects of hard labor. You know, the finished product. I guess that's why I enjoy writing, drawing, coloring, making things, and putting things together. Oh, and reading too of course. Anyways, back to my story again. Well, I also mentioned how I thought it was neat how one of my friends, Vicky Walsh, who had just moved to this school from the northeast, had written a sort of book that told you how to draw horses. The plan was that she would write and draw the pictures and another girl whom she later became better friends with in high school, Lindsey Day, would type it and get paid for that. Well, Mrs. Stevens gave me the journal at our last morning together and told me that this could be my start. In fact, she wrote inside something cliche like, "just think, one of these days when you write your book, I can say that you used to be my student. " Except, it didn't sound so cliche as that when I read the inscription. She also said how she had always regretted not keeping a journal especially now. Then, I was just happy that I received a present, a pretty yellow one with stripes on it. Yes, I was a very selfish and greedy person. Needless to say, I did start writing in that journal. In fact, my journal collection has grown to about four or five maybe. I'm really not sure. I stopped writing for a long time then I started again. I've been too busy and lazy to write lately, which always makes me feel guilty for some reason. I guess I am really grateful to her for that first journal though. I wonder if either of us realizes what kind of a difference that has made for me, especially during the hard times I guess. Time is up now. I'll write more later. Bye bye.