It's new, it's scary, and I don't like it.

And I don't want to check my posts to see if any special characters I may have used show up properly. I'm at school right now. That sucks. I should have, you know, like, waited until I got home to do this, but I'm bored and I have an hour to kill. To murder. To render dead.

Anyway, yesterday, I wanted to make entries, and Blogger wouldn't let me, because Blogger is the love-child of Jennifer Love Hewitt and Ted Turner, if you know what I mean, and I think Beth does. And now I don't. In brief: Yes, it is nine-million and a half degrees outside. I do not have air conditioning in my home. Please, I don't even want to go into it.

The sun is my enemy. It compounds the trials of living. With any luck, I will soon be able to fly a rocket into it. Today my mood is bitter and exhausted, and this keyboard I'm typing on bites. Hard. I hate this entry. It's so over.