Bonjour. Bonsoir actually. Eldest sibling has left for collage. Good luck Darlin! My hair is a frizzy tangled mess. I have invented a new word. Mog. A perfect adjective for my bedroom in its current state. Mess, bog, mush and smog all rolled into one jolly single syllabled word. Mog.
Contemplating the meaning of life. What will become of my future. ectera. I am operating on less than 4 hours of sleep. Oy Vey! Au Revoir. My eyes cannot remain open by themselves anymore. Ta~
Joy! Life goes on! I got a letter from my pen-pal! My foot has shrunk back to normal size and I can walk without an ankle brace. I am content to give up on rhyming words for shards. Tomorrow is Thursday! I have lost the three pounds I gained. My hair is hopeless. I accept it. I scheduled my audition for tomorrow, wish me luck. I will outlaw telephones someday when I rule my own country. I am pulchritudinou
Sigh. Life goes on. My pen-pal no longer writes to me. My foot is swollen twice its normal size and stuffed into an ankle brace. I cant find any good rhyming words for shards. Tomorrow is sunday. I have gained three pounds. My hair is an impossible snarled mess. And I've got to schedule a bloody audition over the telephone! I despise telephones. I am lachrymose. Alas I will always be able to find solace in my dictionary. Ta~
Hello. I am writing. How joyous. Yes indeed. Um. so, is there a rule here that says you can write only in English? I hope not. It is such a harsh language. There. I have written a diary entry.