Authors Note: Yes, I know, VACATION INSN'T FINISHED! And I would not blame you if you came to my house and flogged me to death, but I'm in a small dip- writer's block is what they call it on the streets, I think- And I'm hoping this'll maybe get me out. We can try.
Disclaimer: Allison Cameron isn't mine, and neither are Melanie, Hannah, Cara, or anyone else mentioned in this fiction. They are, coincidently, actual people. Hope you like them!
My Life As An Anti-Social Teenager
-A Journal of Allison Cameron-
Name: Allison Danielle Cameron.
Nickname: Alli, Al, sometimes Danny, because of my middle name. Lots of people call me Snickers?
Age: 13 and ½ the day after Thanksgiving.
Height: 5'1" I guess?
Weight: 91 pounds, thankyouverymuch
School: Milton H. Smithton Jr. High.
Siblings: One sister, 16, Bella Elizabeth Cameron.
Current Status: (Bound to be) single (for the rest of my life.)
Favorite Color: Um…forest green?
Favorite Sport: Soccer, I guess? I'm so boring. Once, during the last Olympics, I saw the Trampoline event. That looked pretty cool. For now, I'm stuck with soccer.
Favorite Book: Love love love LOVE LOVE Fahrenheit 451 and War of the Worlds.
Favorite Movie: The Original Halloween, with Jamie Lee Curtis? And she stabs him in the neck with a knitting needle, but he's still alive? Yeah, that one.
Favorite Town: What kind of dumb question is that? New York City, I guess…?
Favorite Country: I want to go to Paris so bad, I could spit.
Well, now you know a little more about me. But why, I ask you? You're a journal! You can't read? No, you can't. So, it doesn't matter. I mean, it does count for an extra credit grade, which would be the whole point of writing in this journal in the first place.
And here I am, desperately trying to write a hundred words per entry. I'm having trouble right now, I'm only up to…74 words! I didn't know expanded words so quickly. We should save them up and give them to starving kids in Japan or something.
So, what shall I talk about, Mr. Journal? Are you a Mister or a Missus, cuz sometimes it's hard to tell.
You want to know more about me, do you? Well, right now I'm wearing a short sleeved shirt that says "Orphan Train" on it. That was a play that I was two years ago. I was Frank. It was probably one of the most fun three months of my life. I have denim jeans on, and woolen socks. I have a camisole on, but it doesn't matter because I don't have anything to fill it out with.
So now I'm going to go all fetal position, jabbering-to-the-psychologist-on-the-couch- on you and tell you my sob story. I hope you don't mind. Mrs. Long probably won't mind, ither, since she never reads over anything I hand in to her- she just slaps a grade on it and what's done is done.
But here it is, journal- I am a looser.
Big, stupid, fat looser.
Only I'm not stupid, or fat. The not being fat part is okay, but the not being stupid part…Well, it certainly has it's drawbacks.
It's almost like you're not allowed to be smart anymore. I'm not kidding! If you, journal, an inanimate object, had a vertebrate and an opposable thumb, you would definitely agree with me. It sucks! I work my ass off all through elementary school to get okay, average grades. Then, I'm thrown into Middle School for two years out of my life, till 7th Grade, achieving ONCE AGAIN average grades. And now, here I am, achieving crappy grades. We just finished our semester, and I'm proud to report my science teacher is an asshole that's completely full of himself.
Bella had him when he was in my grade. But now she's off at Fairview High, and I'm stuck at Smithton with two more years to go until High School.
But back to me being a looser, which I am:
I swear to god! Jenna Zynda, who is probably the dumbest girl I know, is sweet and always has some arm candy hanging off of her shoulder, carrying her books and trying not to get his drool all over his black-and-pink Etnies.
On the other hand, Amy Buildner (this chick that was in my 1st Grade class and, every time we counted up the amount of hours we had read that month, she always won the damned gold ribbon and got to eat lunch in the classroom) ALSO has guys swarming all over her. Because uh-huh, she's so ghetto. (I'm rolling my eyes.)
What's a girl to do? I just hate people in general. They're stupid! They're stupid and don't make any sense. Guys, especially. They're such dumbasses. I have no idea what their purpose is, except to…you know…but other than that, they're pointless. Unless you're deeply in love- whatever, I mean, who falls in love in 8th grade?- boys are insensitive, immature STUPID HEADS!
That 'stupid-head' remark is just about as insulting as I go. I'm a pretty cold person.
But all I have to say is that Jr. High kids' evil powers are just too much for me to take.
Sorry to end so abruptly here, Journal, but I'm getting depressed just writing about my life. I'm probably gonna go get some Ben and Jerry's and read tabloids, or something. Catch you on the flip side! Or whatever.
And that, ladies and gents, was the first chapter of a saga. Hopefully a saga. A sagaette. Sorry, I'm off topic again.
If anyone wants to give me feedback, it's welcome, as usual- question, comments, concerns, complaints, suggestions, flames, editing remarks and ADVICE are all greatly appreciated. How will I know you love/like/want to spit on it if you don't comment?
Just a thought.
Good bye and good night,
PS- Don't nag me about the chapter length, I KNOW- it needs to be longer. It will be fixed!
Also, don't give up on Vacation…I'm getting there, I'm getting there :)