Hey guys. Just felt like posting a bloggeh type thing. My book on how to get published and shtuff isn't going to arrive until October, there was some sort of shipping issue so I'm getting the new version. Hooray!

I don't know, I was thinking about it today, New Hampshire's quick but graceful way of ascending into autumn and winter, brisk, colorful then bare months. Summer flies by, winter stays stagnant for months, shut inside our houses with nothing to do but read thick novels on your couch, a blanket over your legs and a dream in your heart.

You'd think it would make me even more stir-crazy than before, right?

I don't know, right now I just feel kind of nostalgic. Fall is really a time of memories for me. Some good, some bad. Lately, at least for the last few years, fall has been a time of moving. But I feel secure where I am, at least for now. Maybe next fall I'll be moving somewhere else, like New York. Or maybe even sooner than that. Or maybe not at all. But I've decided not to focus on that.

So I have this huge History project that I have to do, and the research consists of ten pages of notes a week. I haven't gotten started on this weeks', but I figure I'll have time during the week. I thought maybe I could get something done tonight, but I feel too restless and sick to focus. I'll study my Geometry vocabulary and finish "What My Girlfriend Doesn't Know", and finish this blog, of course, but other than that, you know.

Things have been going well. I like high school. I feel kind of weird sometimes, being in a public school, but my school is high-ranked so I don't think it'll be too much of a problem. Sometimes I wish I were in a private school, but right now I'm pretty damn happy where I am.

Jasmin's parents are getting divorced.

What a segway, right? I texted Moze awhile back, telling her that, but she didn't get it, not that I would expect her to.

Starting in seventh grade, I went to Jasmin's house a lot. Her house was always warm and inviting. There was always a lot of food, something that my house never seemed to have. Her mother made our breakfast, her dad drove us to the mall. He played music on his Sirius Satellite Radio and made jokes about 30 Rock, her mom asked me constantly if I wanted something to eat or drink, or asked how I was. They were like the parents I wish I had. They always bought nice things for Jasmin, always provided for her. She's an only child. She seemed to live in a paradise separate from the real world, the world where people suffered and starved. She lived in an oasis of material things, of plentiful things, of a house of perfect heated temperature. Her parents were teachers, they had basically the same hours she did. She didn't really understand the worry I went through when my parents stayed out late during the winter, working late at their small business or getting caught up with other things. She had dinner at a consistent time, sometimes I had dinner right before bed.

Then she told me, right when I got home from visiting her oasis. Things seemed to be going as normal. She was fighting with her mom as usual, but her mom was unconditional. She texted me three hours later, "My parents are getting divorced."

I texted back saying she was joking.

I logged on Facebook, there it was. Facebook is serious territory for her. She can spend up to an hour picking out the perfect quote, the perfect song lyrics for her Facebook status. I was scared.

Because it was like, let's think of a book reference, maybe Quentin figuring out that Margo isn't what he thought she was. I just felt like, oh my God. This perfect oasis, like it is in all dystopian science fiction, isn't what people thought it was at all.

That was a week ago today.

Jazz hasn't been so great. Charlotte, Bri, and I are trying to be her rocks, keeping her steady and stable. Her dad moved out and is staying with a friend. She and her mom aren't speaking. She comes in to school wearing the same black North End jacket and jeans, maybe alternating the jeans for her black Victoria Secret sweats or her jacket for an Abercrombie hoodie. But dark clothes, black and navy, like she's mourning. She is mourning. She's still beautiful, but she's broken. She's lost interest. She gets a little better every day it seems, but it's scaring me. Confident, pretty, boy-attracting Jazz is now just Jasmin, Jasmin with the Divorcing Parents.

I mean, it's not like people don't get divorced every day. But her parents were married for years before Jazz was born. They're both over 50. Jasmin said that things haven't really been working for years anyway. And it's a small town. It's weird. Weird and sad.

I didn't really like getting into that, but I kind of needed to say something along the lines of that. I'm really tired. And picking off the last of my extinct nail polish.

Alright well, I'm going to enjoy the rest of my Sunday. Have a nice night everyone.

Before I go...

Emma- that door thing sounds neato! I wish my house had that. And I wish I had my own bathroom. But I guess three bathrooms is better than one. Three in this house and one in the apartment. Yeah. And also, isn't a foot fetish when you get turned on by feet? Not being scared of them? But my foot fetish knowledge is limited, like to "The Princess Diaries" and that scene in the second A-List novel. And also, Broadway? Georgia has a Broadway?

- Jerri Jerri
Like a cherry
...That wasn't how I wanted it to go.
Because I still
Have my cherry.
'Cause I'm as pure as snow.
(Seriously, when am I going to get this fabled First Kiss?)