I want to be cool. I spend all my time these days reading other people's diaries, thinking about how cool they are and how boring I am. But I guess I'm just being all down on myself because it's gray outside. Nature should not be permitted to be gray. It should be green and blue and purple and pink and every other bright, cheery color; not gray.
Okay, cheer myself up time. Name three cool, interesting things you've done in your life:
1) I wrote a 40 page (typed) short story involving Megan, Sarah, Vicki, the members of Rancid, and me.
2) I met my idol, Mitch Albom, and stared, dumbfounded at how short he is in real life.
3) I went down to Florida and hooked up with my brother's roommate behind his back. (This isn't so much cool as it is interesting.)
Oh. And I've been to Toronto. I love Toronto. I envy all who live there. I want to be Canadian.
People are always complimenting me and all I say is, I know. I don't believe in being modest. Modesty only leads to self-doubt. So I'm completely honest with everything. Yeah, I'm a good writer. I'm not the best there is, but I'm good. Yeah, I'm a pretty funny person. There's funnier people out there, but I'm pretty funny. I'm not that bad looking. I'm not model material, but I think I have pretty eyes, and I've been told the same by numerous people.
Does all of this make me stuck-up? Maybe. But I just see it as being honest. As long as I don't consider my achievements as making me better than anyone else, I don't think admitting to them is being stuck-up.
You know who are better writers than me? "iamagirl" and "pixiekins". I do not know these people, but I religiously read their diaries. Yes, my dears, they are GOOD writers. I'm not bad, but they've got talent.
Dude, I've got fans! There actually are people who read my diary. Insane. But at the same time, it makes me feel good to know people actually like reading my confessions of love to Greg Attonito and my plans to have an inappropriately long Sopranos marathon one of these days. I feel appreciated and loved! To quote Sally Field, "You like me, you really, really like me!"
I just got a call from the doctor. As of now, consider my house "MONO CENTRAL". Ah yes, yet another disease stikes the heart (or immune system) of Rachel. It doesn't get better than this. But, hell, at least I'm not a hypochondriac... this month.