  Here is a word to the wise; never, ever, under any circumstances drive with Leigh. Last night alone she almost hit a car, drove up on a curve, and created a 12-car pile up in the mall parking lot. One terrible woman rolled down her window and yelled at us, " Where the fuck did you get your license? " (To which I yelled back " Hey lady, fuck off ! " I felt very powerful. ) But Leigh started crying. Some people are so mean. Other than that, our attempt to enjoy our Friday night was fruitless, not that I would admit so to Leigh. She was happy to enjoy some concotion from Panda Express and a lame Julia Roberts tearjerker. What is wrong with me? I have not been able to hold back tears in a movie since July! But that in itself it not why I would care to forget last night.
If one more mall employee with a swagger and overgelled hair hits on me in any way, I will boycott the mall for good. Has anyone who has used a line such as, oh say, " Those are sweet pants . " established a meaningful relationship with the receiver of such shit? Has love resulted from " Hey, can I have your number ? " Doubtful. Unless the girl was named Cookie of Candie or some other food product.
To further propel my sour mood, I have been assigned homework over the break, and for this I want to administer the oh-so-uninteresting Bubonic plague (which, I now know, killed 38 million Europeans within chapter nine alone... stupid rats) upon my teachers. I also have to read Night . Somehow, I just don't think that the holocaust and the birth of Jesus coninside. At least it's not lengthy. From outside appearances, it looks like the sort of thing I would have been reading in fourth grade. Affectionately... Anna 
