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The Girl
My name is Morgan and I'm going to be 18 this year. I live in Portage, PA, a dismal drug town. I'm a vegetarian, animal lover, and an athlete. I play volleyball and run distance in track. Plan on attending community college for my general studies and attending Mount Aloysius to study Criminal Justice/Forensic Accounting and hopefully go into the FBI or CIA.
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Disclaimer
My diary, my space, my rights. Don't like what you see? Feel free to hit that little X up there. Thanks.
Rants, raves...and complaints....the usual.
...written on 2004-01-06, @ 3:30 p.m.
Something is wrong with the color in my fucking diary and I'm not happy about it. Now I have to go through all that damn html again and see what's wrong and it'll take for ever. Ahh...I got lots of time. I'll fix it later.
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Forensics meet tomorrow! Hopefully I won't get sick again. I can't wait. I love expressing myself through acting out and reading.
My piece is about a black man named Jim who murders this woman's son. He escapes to her house and tells her that he killed someone but he didn't know if he were black or white and who it was (he truly didn't know). He convinces her to let him stay at her house and hide until the authorities come and ask her (Her name is Annie) if she had seen Jim.
Annie hides Jim in her bed and puts freshly laundered clothes ontop of him and makes sure that it look presentable and not lumpy. She goes back to her cooking and than finally Sheriff Lowndes knocks on the door.
It turns out that Jim had accidently shot her son Obadiah and Mr. Lowndes was bringing back his body. He asked Annie if she had seen Jim anywhere and she lies for Jim and tells the sheriff she hadn't seen him. The sheriff leaves and Annie kicks Jim out of the house.
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It's pretty good. My description is kind of blunt so I'll just put the story in the bonus section with the rest of the stories I'm going to include later.
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Eh...no track for awhile which means that I can work on those templates! I'm not having track because my foot was fucking punctured by a damn shish-kebob stick (those sticks you roast meat, fruits and vegetables on in a barabecue). My four-year-old brother wedged the stick underneath the couch and I didn't see it there and...pop! Right into my foot (in the heel). It went pretty deep and hurt like a mother fucker...damn.
This happened on Sunday and today is Tuesday. I woke up this morning with my foot throbbing and with pus coming out of the wound (uck).
I have to go to the Doctor and get it checked out. It's swollen and gross and I can't wait to run again because now I feel like a fat hog since I haven't gone to track in three fucking weeks. NEED TO RUN! MUST RUN. LOVE THE RUNNING.
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I'm getting new glasses! These are going to be the ones I take good care of because the ones I have on right now are the ones from when I lived in Japan. MY GOD HOW IN THE HELL DID I LET MY MOTHER MAKE ME WEAR THESE!? It's like living in the eighties! I get my new contacts tomorrow and my glasses in ten days. Oh I can't wait.
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*Still complaining*
Morgan