September 3rd, 2008-9:38 P.M.

Welcome, to my whatever notebook journal thingy. Not sure what to call it…but what the heck. I had so many diary’s that I had gotten for my birthdays when I was little. I usually start with the date and then go on talking about how my day went and blah blah blah, on and on. I bet this notebook is gonna end up like those diaries. Put into a box to be left until it turns dusty and old. Why start writing now, you ask? Well, one word…BOREDUM. My life has gotten so boring so that all I do every single day is:

1.Wake up at whatever time I want to.

2.Stay laying in bed and stare at the mold that’s growing in the corner wall of my room.

3.Get up and drink tap water before I dehydrate of thirst. (One time there was no water at all and I didn’t eat or drink anything for the whole day. I felt dehydrated that day. Dehydration is not something good that you want to experience.)

4.Read a book.

5.Draw.

6.Go Job Searching. (I know that I’m only 14 but I actually lie about my age and say that I’m 16. Hey, someone’s gotta have money around the house since my mom is too flippin’ lazy to get her butt off the couch and find herself a damn job.)

7.Walk around (mostly to the park where all the birds are at. I just sit on a bench and watch this old guy next to me feed the birds. He smiles at me once in awhile and says hi but that’s about it.)

8.Go back home, sit on my bed, and listen to a cheap 20-dollar MP3 that I stole from the dollar store. (Who woulda known they sold things for 20 dollars at a dollar store. I thought they only sold things for a dollar. How did I download music on it? The school library. I sneaked in after school. Not that much students go into the library because they say its “haunted.”)

9.Stare out my bedroom window and watch the little kids from next-door play games in their front yard.

10.Go outside again and beg for money. (Yes, I actually do beg for money and I don’t care what people say. When a person needs money, you do whatever you can to get it. I even mow the lawn for my next-door neighbor.)

11.Sneak into a hotel that’s like 10 blocks away from where I live and walk around. I even sneak into the restaurants and steal food.

12.Go back home and sleep.

So, I guess that’s about it. My boring typical life.

Anyways, I think I forgot to introduce myself. Names, Madeline (but I’d like to be called Maddy instead) Moon (my last name). Why didn’t I get a last name like Anderson or Rogers. But, nooooo…. I get stuck with Moon. In Elementary school, these kids used to call me Madeline Moron instead of Moon. They said I should add an ‘R’ between the two ‘O’s. Anyways, where was before I interrupted myself…again. I seem to do that a lot.

Anyways, (I keep saying that) tomorrow I start high school. Ninth Grade. I’m nervous. I think my life is going to change and so is my schedule. I hope tomorrow goes well. Well, I gotta get some sleep. Tomorrows my big day. Gotta wake up early. Anyway, (there goes that word again) Later

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September 4th, 2008-3:07 P.M.

They say high school is the best time of your life, dedicated to enjoying yourself, they say "wait until you have a job" and "You'll have to earn you’re own money" I’m 14 for gods sake!

My life is writing, drawing, walking around parks, and stuff. Teachers in elementary school are always telling me, “It’s what inside that counts.” But, theory, do 14 year olds REALLY care what’s inside? Altogether, I suppose my life is just simply B-O-R-I-N-G. I think I’m complaining of how bored I am. But hey, there’s nothing else to do besides write. I’m not popular, I’m thin, medium skin, I’m not pretty but I’m not ugly either, and I’m really, really quiet. I’m not that shy but I sometimes am when I’m around people I don’t know. But, I really am quiet.

In elementary school, I was so quiet you couldn’t tell if I was there or not. I was pretty much invisible. Once, my dad died before I started 7th grade, that’s when I started wearing black all the time. I’m not gonna call myself an “emo” because I don’t consider myself one. I don’t even consider “emo” being a fashion. For me, it’s just the type of music that I love listening to, that’s all. But sometimes people take the word “emo” the wrong way. Yeah, it means emotional but it’s a type of music. And not all “emo’s” like some people say, cut themselves because I don’t…not that I’m saying that I’m emo because I’m not. I think I said that already, didn’t I?

Anyways, about my first day of high school…

The first day of high school sucked. When I got there,…I was like…you’ve got to be kidding me. I got stuck with the special ed kids in the sub basement. Not good. There’s like only five kids in the room, including me makes six. Before I tell you about the kids in my classroom and the about my funny looking teacher…let me just say that I thought high school was gonna be fun. It’s far from fun. I have four classes: 1. English 1…2. Algebra 1…3. Pathway to Success (I have no idea what that class is for)…and 4. Gym…(Whoopee for me). My classes are soooooo boring. Especially my Pathway to Success class. All the teacher did was take attendance and then starting typing away on his computer and acted like if we weren’t even there. Maybe it’s because it’s the first day of school. I just hope it gets better tomorrow.

Anyways, let me tell you about my first class: English 1 (for special ed kids). Why did I get stuck in a special ed class….I have no idea!!!!!!

I entered the small classroom….late…to find only five kids sitting in a row. There were practically only six seats…in a row. The first kid I passed was some weird looking boy who kept biting his nails and moving around so much its like he had ants in his pants or something. He was all jumpy. He had light brown hair and light skin. He was wearing a collar gray shirt and pants that looked like the ones Steve Erkel wears. No offense I’m not trying to make fun of him or anything I’m just describing how he looked. The second was a girl who I think she had down syndrome. She was just sitting there reading a book and out of nowhere, she starts laughing. She’s probably reading a funny book. She had dark brown hair and really light skin. She was wearing a white shirt with a heart face in the middle, a red-checkered shirt, long white stockings, and shoes that looked like the ones that catholic girls wear. The next was a boy who was wearing baggy pants and a hoodie. I couldn’t tell how he looked like because his head was down. I think he was sleeping. Next was a girl with straight blonde hair and she was wearing blue overall skirt with a blue shirt under and she was wearing brown boots. Now that girl…I don’t know…but for some reason she was smelling her fingers. Weird. And the last was a boy who looked…pretty descent. He had black spiky hair an earring on his right ear, and he was wearing regular blue jeans and a black shirt that said, “Bite me”. Since the row was girl, boy, girl, boy, I had to sit in the last seat next to the boy.

Now, let me tell you about the teacher. She is the weirdest person in the room. She was wearing a dress that looked like a curtain and she was wearing blue nurse shoes. After she took attendance, she gave us all a newspaper and then sat down to read herself a newspaper. The jumpy boy looked through the newspaper and kept flipping through the pages, over and over. The syndrome girl didn’t even look at the newspaper. She just kept reading her book and didn’t even take her eyes off the book. The boy who was sleeping…well he pretty much stayed sleeping ‘til the bell rang. The girl who smells her fingers flipped through the newspaper and then kept either looking at nails and biting them, to smelling them again. Then the ‘bite me’ boy he was reading the newspaper but then he closed it and took out his ipod. He put the volume on loud and then put his head down. As for me…I drew, drew, and drew…until the class ended. Talk about being bored.

For Algebra class, which I’m glad, wasn’t a special ed class…thank goodness…was kind of ok. The teacher started off taking attendance and then passed out the algebra textbooks. He told us we can put it in out lockers after class. Then he gave us an algebra worksheet, which was really hard for me to do because I suck at math. He gave us two more worksheets and told us that if we didn’t finish we had to take it home for homework. I didn’t think that I would get homework on the first day. But I did. Wow, high school is hard and…my favorite word…boring.

Pathway to success. What am I to say about this class? Nothing. Because that is what I did in the class. Nothing. Just sit there and watch these two blondes walk in the room…an hour late. They sat in front corner and talked and talked. Then class ended and I went off to my last class, which was gym. We didn’t do anything in that class either because the teacher was absent. So, we had to sit in the bleachers and wait ‘til class was over. The boy with spiky hair is in my gym class and so are those two girls that talk a lot. There was another girl with them but she wasn’t talking as much.

Then the bell rang and I walked home. My boring first day in high school. Fascinating! I hope tomorrow isn’t boring as was today.

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September 5th, 2008-12:45 P.M.

I’m in third block now. Since the teacher didn’t give us work I guess it would’ve been a good idea to write. There’s nothing else to do.

The two girls across from me keep staring at me. I hate it when people stare. Its stupid because there talking about you and its like they want you to know that their talking about you…did I make any sense at all…I think I’m talking gibberish. Oh, no here they come…towards me…

That was weird…the girl with shoulder length blonde hair just gave me a dollar and told me to by some soap. Do I smell?

Then they walked away and started laughing. I guess they have nothing better to do than make fun of people. That is so elementary school.

God, why is it so boring in this class? Four people are sleeping, one is reading, another is listening music, two are playing with their Nintendo DS, the rest are talking, and I’m the only one writing. Can the time go any slower…jeez?

What to do? What to do?

I’ll write a poem:

Little fuzzy on the cat,
wait now where are you at?
Now where could that fuzzy have gone,
Oh my shirt it has landed on.

Fuzzy wuzzy on my shirt
this fuzzy might just be dirt
fuzzy wuzzy go away,
fuzzy wuzzy you can not stay.

Okay fuzzy now you must leave
you cannot stay here on my sleeve.
I will flick you away
so that you will not stay.

Now I can see away you float
so you can land on someone else’s coat
Now I miss you fuzzy wuzzy,
but I can visit you on my skuzzy cuzzy

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Do I sound bored or what?

Finally, the bell…oh, no gym! I hate gym!