Hahahaha. That's all I have to say.

But in other news, I have a personal descriptive narrative essay written in the 3rd person due in two days. And I'm posting it for your viewing pleasure. Except it's not really pleasure cause it sucks. Writing has never been my strong point. But this story made me smile when I re-read it because it just reminds me how much fun and easy it was to be a kid. So like... here:


      Janna stared at the white, cordless phone, trying to send telepathic messages to make it ring. But it didn’t. It had not rung in the past 3 hours. She sighed and reluctantly peeled herself off her bed’s blue comforter and stood up. Janna walked over to her CD player and put in a classical piano CD that she took from her parents. Piano music almost always helped Janna calm her nerves, but nothing could have helped her that day. She paced around her small room, twisting her long black hair, something she did whenever she got nervous.
      “Why isn’t she calling? I’m not calling her first. This was all her fault anyway. Why isn’t she calling? I hate her,” Janna muttered under her breath. She walked over to her bulletin board where she had pictures posted of her good friends. Janna then saw one of her and another girl who looked very similar to herself, only with light brown hair. Janna unpinned the picture and looked at it up-close. In a moment of frustration and anger, she tore the picture in half and threw it in the blue trashcan next to her bed. “This is all her fault,” she repeated, “I don’t need her anyway. I’m just going to forget about all of this and not worry about it because she doesn’t matter to me anymore.”
      Trying to prove what she just said, Janna took out the book that she was supposed to read for her 4th grade English class from her backpack and plopped down on her small, full-sized bed. She flipped to a random page and read out loud in an attempt to avert her attention from thinking about her “ex-friend”.
      “Grampa and Papa were in the little parlor sitting on the scratchy horsehair furniture, talking in…” Well she has some nerve to do what she did and not even apologize! I can’t believe her! “…low tones in order not to wake up Uncle Bennie. No one was as excited as Jerry about the disappearance of Ginger except Rachel.” Why isn’t she calling me to tell me that she’s sorry?
      Janna’s thoughts invaded her brain even while she was reading aloud. She put the book down and rolled over on her back, where she noticed the glow-in-the-dark stars that were stuck on each blade of her unmoving white ceiling fan. Five stars, equally distance apart, on each blade, she discerned. “That way, when you turn on the fan at night, it will look like 5 glowing circles,” Janna mumbled, recalling her friend’s exact words. She reminisced on that evening when her friend slept over and helped her put up those colorful stars. Janna couldn’t reach the fan, so her friend had to do it because she was taller. Janna smiled as she was thinking back on that night, but then she remembered why she was so angry in the first place. A mad face firmly back in place, she was ashamed that she had actually smiled. Janna rolled back over to attempt at reading the book once again when the phone rang. In a frenzy, she ran to the phone and picked it up on the 2nd ring.
      “Hello?”
      “Hey sweetie. It’s mom.”
      “Oh. Hi mom.”
      “I’m going to be a little late tonight with work, so tell dad to go ahead and start dinner without me.”
      “Okay.”
      “Bye, honey.”
      Janna hung up the phone, wearing an obvious look of disappointment on her face, and wandered to the living room to relay mom’s messaged to her newspaper-reading father. After an “Uh huh, okay,” Janna dragged her feet back to her room, glanced at her silent phone, and crumbled on her blue beanbag.
      “She must hate me. How come she won’t call? She’s the one to blame here, not me. Well… I hate her too. But the least she could do is call and say that she’s sorry. Is that so hard to do? Well… if she’s not going to call, then I’m not her best friend anymore. And I don’t want to talk to her ever again.” Just as Janna said that, the phone rang once more. Thinking that it was her mother again, she slowly crawled over to the phone that was thrown on the carpeted floor, and picked it up on the 4th ring.
      “Hello?” Janna answered in a weary voice.
      “Hey, Janna? It’s me, Emily… Listen, I’m sorry about what happened this morning. I really am.”
      “It’s okay, Emily, I’m sorry too.”
      “So, are we okay?”
      “Yeah. Do you want to come over to have dinner with us?”
      “Sure, I’ll be over in 10 minutes… Best friends?”
      “Best friends. Definitely”
      With a smile on her face, Janna hung up the phone. She quickly tidied up her room before her friend would arrive. As she was picking up some scrap paper to throw away, she noticed the torn picture of her and Emily. Janna picked up the two pieces and walked over to her cluttered desk. She neatly taped the two parts back together and tacked it back over the empty space on her bulletin board. Janna grinned at the picture-perfect duo smiling back at her in the photograph.
      “Best friends forever.”



Mmm. Cheesy. Just how I like it. Oh, and don't ask me what the fight was about, cause I don't remember. Don't bug me about grammar mistakes either cause grammer can suck my butt.