The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants has taught me a thing or two.

Other than that,
HEY!
I'm seventeen!

Thank you, thank you, thank you!
For the cake[s].
For the present[s].
(the night light is awesome, Chee. ^^)
(the milk was a nice touch, Mess. xD)
(the coffee needed sugar, Em! But I'm sorry I dropped it. >.<)
(the call was... late, Red. >.>)
Overall, it was a great birthday.

Anyway!
I've been exiled in my grandmother's house
while my mother parties it up in the Dominican Republic.
Raise the roof, mother.
And so, in this environment I've actually started "understanding" guitar tabs.
"Falling Slowly" annoys me, though.
But it's our damn Talent Show!
I'm going to get through the pain and-- oh! brb!
Need to get my Capo.

"Don't be sorry."
You've heard that said, haven't you?
"Don't be sorry."
It's hard not to be.
I fear that I'm always saying the wrong thing.
And sick of feeling worried for everyone.
All the time.

It's my "mother syndrome."
I swear it is...

GO PRESIDENT-ELECT OBAMA!

We were talking about hope in Lit. Workshop the other day...
and we came to a sound conclusion about it.
There can be no hope and optimism for the future
without a degree of pessimism.
It's so true.
You can't have hope without the slightest feeling that it can all go wrong.

I'd have saved you a piece of Virgina-imported cake,
buuuut, you were a little late. ^_^

-Vicks