March 14, 2011

I know people with the last names, Iqbal, Butts, and two twin boys with the last name Ball. Beat that.

Two big things this week, right before spring break.
1. ______, who I promised I wouldn't speak of this, has been getting herself into a lot of trouble. Not only has she tried a cigarette, she's drank 3 or so times. Shots of vodka, a big glass of mixed alcohol, beer. And a boy has touched her breasteses under her bra!
After she told me this I told her I was disappointed and was pretty shocked. She's a straight A student and I just didn't think the two mixed. She asked me what the worst thing I've ever done was,'Watch TV on a Tuesday?' Which made me sad.
But it gets worse, today she told me that for the first time, last afternoon, mere hours after her confessions, she tried weed for the first time. Out of a monster can.
Not only did this make me sad and surprised, it made me seriously angry. Like she's cool with this, like she thinks she's freakin' Super Women.
She has so much potential. God. (Today Miley got paint on her jacket and I immediately pulled out my Tide Stick, and they told me I was like a mom)
I wish she could say I was like her mom, but if I was, she wouldn't be smoking weed out of a monster can.

2. My parents are splitting up. I won't sugar coat the bitterness and I won't beat around the bush. It's happening, unconventionally, but still. Instead of one of them moving out, we're converting the office I am in right now, into a bedroom. It'll be weird, but it's better than losing one of them.

My little sister didn't see it coming, but me and my imaginary friends did, and my grieving was over. To be honest I had cried enough at the prospect, so when the truth hit, there was only so much shock to push out my remaining tears.
I am sad, for the loss, but it happens. It's just as average as pimples or biting nails, no matter how much we don't want it to be.
Half of marriages don't work out. It's simple statistics, no matter how mush you say you love someone, it may or may not always be true.
That's the thing I don't think most people understand. The fact that people who leave unhappy unions aren't bad, they're honest. They get that love may start strong, but get weak. It isn't any one's fault. But everyone has to pay.
I guess this is just another low point of 8th grade. Or, not just another. I guess this is the low point of 8th grade. Beat that.

Not much else to report, that wouldn't be anticlimactic. I hope you did have a better day than me!