...Got a broken heart and your name on my cast...
February 10, 2003 | 3:25 p.m.

This morning I woke up and found a bump on the lower part of my hand. It looks like I have a smaller, displaced version of my wrist bone in the middle of my hand. It's rather quite gross. I decided that my hand is broken and the bump is just where the bone is jutting out. After I showed people at school and they poked around a bit they came to the following conclusions:

Kris (sister): Carpal Tunnell Syndrome
Graham (friend): a spider bite
Ms. Abbott (physic's teacher): a water-filled cyst that needs to be punctured
Bradley (son of a nurse): a blood clot on vein
Cedric (school president): cancer

Out of all of these possible problems I am most afraid of it being a spider bite. Because if it is, that means there was, and still is, a spider in my bed. A SPIDER IN MY BED!!!! Spiders do not belong in beds. They belong outside or in dusty corners or inside vaccum cleaners. Not in my bed!! I had a dream last night that there was a spider in my bed except this spider was the size of my fist and furry. I once had a dream that Jeremy from the band No Time was killing everyone in my house and my father was Mel Gibson. My dreams are very traumatic.

Let's get off the topic of my hand. So Joe Millionaire is on tonight and I am going to be very upset if Zora does not win. I don't like that Sarah girl, she's too cultured for Evan.

As you can tell, I have nothing to talk about.

Days until Coldplay: 14
(yayy!!!)(I should not have paid $60 for a ticket however)

And I still have nothing to talk about.

...pulled along :: pulled apart...