I hate girls. I hate guys who only talk about girls. I hate girls who only talk about guys who talk about girls. I hate 20 year olds who act like 12 year olds (and I'm not talking about goofing off). I hate people who are vain. I hate people who think that their tan equals their popularity. I hate trying to think of witty things to say in this damn thing. I hate these colors. I hate not knowing how to make these colors more attractive. I hate lazy people. I hate working for my money, being tired, and having people who don't work for anything complain if I am tired. I hate high-heeled shoes. I hate my manager. I hate not knowing if I have a summer job. I hate knowing that if I don't, I'm royally fucked over rent-wise. I hate hating people that I love sometimes. I hate people thinking that if one thing I say MIGHT pertain to them, then everything I say does. I hate confusion. But I guess it could be worse

This whole journal thing is new to me. I could never quite comprehend the allure of airing every feeling and emotion for the public eye to see, other than the sometimes comical drama it caused. But I think I'm finally understanding this. It makes me feel special.
So today was pretty good. I woke up in a pissy mood dwelling on the fact that I'm broke, which makes almost every aspect of my life twice as hard as anyone who leeches off their parent's money. But after some bitching and a nice cooling off period, I was fine. Then I took my CSC test which kicked my ass and then ate lunch in the sun. I love NC warm weather. It rocks. My friends rock. And Will even rocks too, although he's a big baby (jk hun).
Time for me to go. Don't miss me too much.

This was almost painless