So does everyone.

I had my first snowcone of the season last night. It was a some sort of cherry something with extra syrup and ice cream.

I like summer, but so does everyone. Why wouldn't you?

He used to be fat.

All my love,

Addy

The worst day of my life.

This day is the worst day of my life. It's fine. Except for it's not, on account of the following facts:
1.) My math test was ridiculously hard.

1b.) I probably failed.

2.) My dear friend Sarah is moving to Virginia.

3.) I am grounded until my grades = 3.5 cumulative.

3b.) I am grounded forever, probably.

4.) Thanksgiving makes me fat-ish.

5.) I love a boy I cannot love.

5b.) Not to mention, I also still love that other boy.

Okay, it actually is sort of fine. My life isn't bad. My life isn't actually that bad on account of the following facts:

1.) I don't think I failed my French quiz.

2.) This week is only two days long.

3.) Being grounded is an excuse to read lots and lots of fat, fat coffee table books.
3b.) Like the time I was grounded and read all seven Harry Potter books in one week. It's happens.
4.) I have dance tonight.

5.) The other boy told me I have a cute laugh and complemented my singing voice. And then we sang a song.

5b.) My mind has been successfully occupied replying that scene for several days.

6.) I am becoming better friends with the funniest boy in the world named Hunter Wilson.

Look. More reasons to be happy about my life than sad about it. Even though today is the worst day of all my other days I have lived. It's fine.

Stop making "to do" lists.

All my love, Addy

P.S. I desperately need a new dream catcher, considering I have had the most terrible dreams lately. Huzzah.

Neville.

Let's be honest here: I'm a total nerd. I like to think of myself as like, a Hermione-ish nerd - with loads of intelligence and a nice body, too, who boys sometimes think about in class when they are bored. But, of course, I'm probably a bit more like Neville - only sometimes smart with a round-ish body, who is, though not entirely the most intelligent, entirely the nerdiest. But it's okay. I like who I am. This is the first year I've tapped into that incredible nerdiness and stopped being afraid of being good at math and staying at home on Friday nights to do homework. I'm a nerd who likes vintage clothing and novels fat enough to be coffee tables and stays up into the late hours of the night to read those fat, fat, coffee table novels. I'm a nerd who likes gorgeous nerdy boys who wear ties and are very good at math. I'm a nerd who likes her parents way more than a normal high schooler should. I'm a nerd who worries about her future at a prestigious university probably every other minute and is very upset about getting a 3.6 this term. I'm a nerd who wears red lipstick in public places and does yoga and uses adverbs correctly. I'm a nerd who adores the word "onomatopoeia" and once even used the word "antidisestablishmentarianism" in a conversation - correctly, mind you. I'm a nerd who sometimes says, "It's okay that I am sad, for it is the fault of the dementors and it is perfectly fine to eat lots of chocolate." I'm a nerd who would consider Liesel Meminger one of my best friends and I bawled compulsively while reading the last fifty pages of The Book Thief. I am a nerd who feels intimidated by cheerleaders and football players and other children who use commas incorrectly and say "haha" a lot and listen to crappy rap. I am a nerd who finds inherent joy in t-shirts that say things like "Funner - gooder than just plain fun" or shirts that have an apothem on a graph saying, "Can't touch this!" or shirts that have a melting ice cube proclaiming, "Solid, liquid, gas... They all matter!" I am a nerd who has a definite problem with correcting others grammar and spelling and letting them know that it is "their" not "there." I am a nerd who likes to speak in a fake British accent and just learned the word "vernacular" and have been waiting to use it ever since. I am a nerd - or, as my nerdy little sister would say,

Never

Ending

Radical

Dude.

Do you think I can be Hermione? Because I like her the best and I don't think I'm quite too rotund nor am I a man. And I don't plan on teaching school when I grow old. And I like books and have lots of hair and sometimes have to teach things to my friends when they don't listen in class or don't do their homework. I'd like to be Hermione.

I am a nerd and I am happy.

Write in cursive sometime.

All my love, Addy.

Post script: NEW WORD ALERT: petrichor (noun) meaning, "the scent of rain on the earth after a dry spell." I nearly cried when I learned this one.

The best thing anybody ever informed me of.

I was sitting on a couch at a family reunion with my nana and my sister. Whatever the original conversation was, I will never remember. But, alas, it is terribly unimportant. It is what someone said later that changed my life.

"Sometimes it is better to ask for forgiveness than permission."

I was filled with a sudden lightness. It was the most liberating thing anyone had ever thought of in the entire history of the world. I was thrilled. Never have I been so overjoyed about my future. It was as if my entire future - all the things I would do, the boys I would kiss, the tattoos I would have tattooed, the fences I would hop, the places I would go - flashed before my very eyes. My course was set. And I took it to heart. The next morning, I got into my nana's make-up case and did my make-up. When she informed me I was much too young for such frivolousness, I simply asked for forgiveness, rather than having asked for permission and hour or so earlier. Needless to say, I looked positively smashing in family pictures later that day. In relation to my bucket list: life is much too short. I feel the need to live before I die. And sometimes, I just know that asking for permission will only stagger the ever-so-important process. For example, if, per say, one wanted to swing on the swings at the private school, it would be simply too much work to ask permission (not to mention one already knows the answer). It is postively better for one to simply trudge across the fields, enter the back way, hopping the fence, and swing until one's heart is content. (Not that I have ever done that.) Now, don't go robbing a bank and blame it on me, saying you were planning on asking for forgiveness. That is wrong. But, using the common sense you were blessed with, GO LIVE YOUR LIFE. It is time we stopped letting others disern our fates! Huzzah! (This would be the point where someone should probably yell "FOR NARNIA!")

Follow your dreams.

All my love, Addy.

Secrets.

Secret: I like court TV.

Secret: I come across as a darkly sarcastic cynic. I'm really only an optimist hiding behind my sarcastic remarks and my buns on top of my head.

Secret: I am not impressed with my grades.

Secret: I stress about things that I should leave behind.

Secret: I've never kissed anyone.

Secret: I'm a procrastinator.

Secret: I'm a pretty good liar.

Secret: I don't enjoy lying. Even if I am really, really good at it, I hate doing it. It eats away at me.

Secret: I am a guilty sinner.

Secret: I don't pray as often as I should.

Secret: I generally have ulterior motives for doing the things that I do - good or bad.

Secret: I wear my cheap jeggings way more often than I would like to admit.

Secret: I don't know what I am going to do with myself when I move out.

Secret: I still hate running. Even after nearly two years of consistent runs. I've run in 18 degree weather, snow eating away at my skin. I've run in 108 degree whether along the beach and stopped to watch dolphins. I still hate it.

Secret: I care. About everything. Everything. Even when I put on the great facade of "I'm Addy. I'm cool and collected and carefree." I'm actually far from cool, an absolute mess, and hardly carefree.

Secret: I covet Bianca's collection of sweaters.

Secret: I worry about my future every day.

Secret: I am happy about the changes.

Secret: I am happy about most things. I am, after all, an optimist.

What are your secrets? Will you comment and tell me a few?

Go running.

All my love, Addy.

This is me. That's all.

My name is Addy.

I like paintbrush pens, topknot ballerina buns, and live music. I enjoy books.

I detest feeling underdressed.

I'm rather a fan of Vogue magazine. I'd wear stilettos every day if that was at all practical.

I believe that the semi-colon is the dark horse of punctuation; we should use it more often. I text too much and then complain about my dislike of texting. I like red lipstick, Cormic McCarthy, wishing on clocks, and wearing dresses. I appreciate British humor, British playwrights, and British accents. Sarcasm is a friend of mine. I love my purse, poetry, and spiral bound notebooks.

I'm a stronger girl than I give myself credit for; I underestimate myself.

I'm a performer - I dance dances, sing songs, and enjoy Shakespeare rather a lot. I'm an oldest child, but much less responsible than my sister just younger than I. I have common sense, though I choose not to use it. I'm a night owl, and certainly not a morning person. I like caffeine.

I own seven pairs of jeans, though I usually wear the cheapest, comfiest pair. I don't love makeup - but at the same time, I do. I fascinated by cat eye eyeliner and glitter mascara.

I like to lie on the floor and listen to classical music while reading fat novels. It makes me feel alive.

I am better than I used to be.

Hello, November. I am different this year.

It's a nice thought, if you think about it. How have you changed since last November? Have you changed since last November? "Why November?" you ask. I'll tell you why November. "Cause it's November right this moment." That's what I'd say. Have you grown? Shrunk? Cried more? Less?

I, for one, have grown in some ways. I have simply grown as a person. Matured? Well, I wouldn't use the word "matured" maybe... Anyway. I'm smarter. Brighter. And, in a funny way, younger. I'm a little more alive than I was a year ago. One year ago I was starting ninth grade. I don't know. It was... It just was. This year has taken growing and adapting and being and existing, and more than all of that, thriving. I had a few dark patches over the last year, but look at me now. I had to head off to a new school (which brought upon more tears than I've ever cried over any three consistent weeks maybe ever) (except possibly the first three weeks of my life) (my mom says I cried a lot when I was a newborn). But look! Look at me now! I am happy. I am classy. I am alive. As a dancer, I've grown incredibly. I've had strangers come up to me after a performance and tell me how lovely I am as a dancer. I've had a moment or two where I've been a little down on myself, but not anymore. I am happy and I am content and I am alive. I've made so many new friends since last November. I'm in love. I'm alive. I'm not afriad. I sleep less - and sometimes more. I am a little more out there, a little less afraid. I took away the nightlight (I'm a little more mature, I guess). My voice has matured and I've sung a few pieces that you wouldn't believe. I'm just happy. I'm so comfortable with who I am now. I am not afraid to not wear makeup to school (I didn't today). I am not afraid to talk to "cool people." I am happy to wear my hair on top of my head and run around like a wild thing.

Mostly, I'm at peace. I'm at peace with everything out there. And I'm happy. I'm a wild thing.

Stop simply existing.

All my life, Addy