Open Letters to Random Things

Being the amazingly original child that I am, I am going to BLATANTLY copy Hank and John's idea of open letters. Actually, it might not even be their idea specifically, but they used it in their last two videos. So yeah. Here we go.

Dear Cellulite,

Do you really have to have get- togethers on my thighs and stomach? Really? Cause it's summer, and I would really like to wear that bikini that I bought, but you are just hanging out right there, being all annoying. I really appreciate it. Truly. 

Dear *D.A.*,

WTF man? You seriously acted for at least two months that you liked me. Flirting, looking at me every time you play-fought with some kid for a stupid reason, etc. You made me think you liked me, lead me on. And then someone tells you that I like you, and you suddenly turn all awkward, not talking to me? What the heck? You were so confident before. And then you couldn't just tell me that you didn't like me? You had to keep me guessing, hoping, waiting, until my friend finally told me? That's real considerate. Nice, man.

To the Bulldozers Behind My Backyard Fence,

F you. The stupid college behind us is recruiting you to tear down all the perfectly fine trees so they can build a parking lot. WTF?!? Those tress aren't hurting anyone. They're just being trees, oxygenating the world. BUT NO. THEY CAN'T LIVE. And in case the fact that the trees have to die in your wake isn't enough, but you have to be parked RIGHT BEHIND MY FENCE. So I have to see you EVERY TIME I look out my TV room window. And when I sit out on my porch reading the newspaper eating late breakfast. 

PHEW. That was nice. I like these open letters. They help me get everything off my chest. 

I really really REALLY need to write something. Maybe a short story. I would be so proud of myself if I wrote a good short story. 

OH! Something dramatic happened to me this morning. I was talking to my friend Becca today before the bell rang, and she was telling us about how she hurt herself. It happens a lot, so I wasn't too surprised. She volunteers at our old elementary school, in her fifth grade class. Since it's near the end of the year, her volunteer teacher had her unplug all the computers from the wall. When she was pulling the plug out, she had some difficulty, so she stuck her thumbnail behind it to get it out. And it shocked her. For approximately 25 seconds. SHE COULD'VE DIED. I can't even express in words how sad I would be if she died. 

Days Left In 7th Grade: 1.5

Bye Guys! Maybe I'll see you tomorrow! 

* D.A. is the initials of the dude I liked. His first name is Darius. But I don't like him now, so I don't have to call him CT anymore. [=