It’s almost nice knowing that guys are talking shit about me and I’m not just being a schizo. In language arts today my friends and I were just sitting there having a good time when we noticed that the three guys who sit across the room from us would look at us and then whisper amongst themselves and then look at us again. This inspired one of my friends to say something to them which sparked some slightly friendly banter. This went on for maybe two minutes, all the while getting louder, until finally my teacher couldn’t ignore us any longer. She came over and asked us what was going on and we explained so she went over and talked to them and they said that all that they had said was a joke “except for that one” upon which one of them pointed to me. So I’m a little annoyed but also a little relieved because when I walk down the hall and I feel like all the guys are whispering shit about me I know I’m not just imagining it. When class was over I of course had to walk out right in front of them and one of them said something about nails with an attempted “gay” voice. Jerks. *random* two ravens flew over my head today, both of them cawed twice. This would scare most people (wouldn’t it?) but I take it as a good omen. One for sorrow, two for joy, three for marriage, four for death, five for silver, six for gold, seven for a secret to never be told. That’s a little bird thing, count the number of birds you see and that’s (^) the forecast for your day. *end random*. On a happier note though I went and saw my grandparents today after about a month and a half. They didn’t know who I was when I walked in because of my hair cut hahaha. Only when I was hugging my grandma did my grandfather totally understand. And once that was understood he realized that I had gotten my hair cut and finally mentioned he liked it. “I didn’t know who it was! I was ready to get the shot gun out!” to my knowledge they don’t have a shot gun but then you can never tell with those two. So my day ended happily and I’m actually enjoying being at my dads. He’s reading if you can believe that. Age must really be getting to him because he never reads more than his business orders. Ah well, guess you got to learn to do something with all your time.

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