Hello young children.

I've been calling people young children a lot lately. Not sure what that's about.

TODAY I went hiking. Pretty shaztastic, if ya know what I'm sayin'.

Emma and Jamison- Seems like you guys are pretty dramatic down there in ye olde Georgiahhhh. Drama up in the New England hasn't really been much, however, according to Keenan, Class Pimp, there was a lot of drama at the Fair on Friday. Drama I was immune to as Graham and I made out on the ferris wheel and cuddled on every other ride, slow-danced in long lines, pretended to be a fighting abusive couple, talked about running away together and living on music.

It was a good night.

He's cute.

Tomorrow he's coming over and we're playing some board games.

We made up generic names for board games, because I told him I had the generic Scrabble- Upwords, it is called. So Battleship thus became Sink Your Opponent.

PLAYLIST TALK!

Ever since I gave Jazz my playlist password (well, I changed it from my typical life password so she could use it) she has been adding all of this CRAP to my playlist. Like Lil' Wayne, Stiff Dylans, all this hip hop nonsense. Anyway, my playlist is basically full now so if I want to add more songs i have to delete some of hers. And it was me being nice, because of her parents and all, but yeah. That's the extent of my drama. Graham and I are pretty undramatic, besides the fact that we decided to be an abusive couple. Which is just us, basically, pushing each other WHILE we hold hands. So you know. It's pretty intense.

Intense death metal.

He's writing some sort of song about me.

For some reason I'm having intense writer's block. Intense. I've written some stuff, but the day after I write it, it always seems to suck.

You know?

Ugh.

Why isn't he inspiring me? I have a poem from when Matt was making me angry, called "Body Without a Soul"...

Nasty rotten bitch boy
Blond, quirky, girl toy.
Who or what is he?
A liar or a shy boy?
Does he even like me?
I think he's just a shell of a man.
A body without a soul inside it.
Does he do what he does for a reason?
Or does he do it because he can?
I tried to reach out to him thinking that
I could help him or comfort him.
But he refused
So now I refuse
To talk to Matt,
Again.

I kind of like it. But that's just me, I guess. I wish I could hit my creative niche with Graham. I've written some stuff for him but it all sucks. I need, something.

He's so amazing. And I like him a lot. But I feel like, you know. I want to write him poems, and songs.

Writer's block makes me CRAZY!!

Maybe that's why I'm blogging. Just to get all the writery nonsense out.

I got my book a few days ago, and I've been looking at it. Literary agents, at least. I have a lot more reading to do. I'm not giving up my dream of publishing Amber because of Graham. I mean, obviously there's less of a drive because I'm preoccupied, but I still want it to get published. Though I want to edit the kissing parts. Because I wrote it before I, well, actually kissed someone. Hah.

At least I've gotten my first kiss. Finally, right? I'm 15. So, it's about time, right? I mean, a lot of my friends haven't gotten kissed yet, but I'm kind of older than some of my friends so. Older. Old.

So far, 15 is shaping to be a lot better than 14. 14 was kind of sucky, you know? There was Matt, and all of the times I felt like I wanted to die, and of course all that drama between all of us, which I hated. :( So 15 is better, I will make it better. It's going to be My Year. The year that the book goes places, the year that I have a great relationship, the year that I have a good school year. Things are going to happen to me. I'm going to be this optimistic. Because, well, I can. So take that, world.

I feel confident right now.

But I'm still really bored, you know? I mean, I just conversed with the Graham so that was fun, I love talking to him. And hugging him. And the kissing, well, that's improved...

We were just kind of sitting there on the ferris wheel. Wait, I've already lied. He had his arm around me, and I had my head on his chest. The ferris wheel, FINALLY, stops. We had already kissed once that evening, when his friends couldn't see us on the ferris wheel, but it was really quick, lips only. Kissing is still private for us, something that only we experience, and no one else really sees. It's something special that we share and look forward to, anticipating the few precious moments that we have to ourselves, to escape into the little world of lips connected.

I am so damn profound.

So finally, the ferris wheel stops. I sit up. We talk, about something I don't remember now. He's looking from my eyes to my lips. He leans toward me. I lean toward him. My eyes close. I'm not sure what to expect, since our first kiss was, you know, a face-eating spectacular. Of my face, anyway.

It's better. I know what to expect. We're not perfect, we're sloppy, but we just want to kiss each other. I laugh a little into the kiss. He laughs a little. He pulls me closer to him, I gladly go closer. The fair's sights and smells are all around us, mostly below us, but I'm not aware of them. It's just him, his arms, his lips, his smell. Everything is silent.

And sure, when we break apart, I have to wipe the spit off the side of my face. But it feels imperfectly flawless. I put my head on his chest again. I can feel his words before he says them, the hum of his vocal chords. "That was so much better than the first time."

"So much better," I breathe.

Then we're silent, soaking up the moment, reflecting as the whole world goes by below us and the ferris wheel starts back up, unaware of what we're thinking.

That's teenage love for you. Or, Teenage really like. It's only been 2 1/2 weeks. :)

But you know me.

- TWJerricaS