14 July 2004

Headache. I just got back from the yearbook convention thing in Dallas. I suppose it taught me how to use the layout sheets and introduced me to the computer elements, however, I felt like I was in first grade. Granted, our first assignment was to make a “list of five goals” for the yearbook via tracing your hand. I made mine into a turkey… I remember finding it childish the first time I did it, actually. We were supposed to “think outside the box” and make “creative goals”. My “creative goal” was “Finish the yearbook”.

Tired. Very tired. Haven’t slept much. Tomorrow I have to go into the VIAMedia office. I’m dying here. What day is it again?

Stressed. Today feels like a lonely Sunday. I want to talk to someone about something, but all I have is no one. I’m angry. At Ali, maybe. Who said she would come see me.. who said she didn’t realize it was me. I don’t care about that though. I’ll call her tonight. It was a mishap, I’m sure. I hope.

Logen. Sorry I’m so distant, if you even read this.

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