Peachy.

I'm doing peachy.

If you were wondering.

Not great.

Not bad.

Peachy.

"Peachy" Can be used as a replacement for the word fine.

"How are you today?" "I'm pretty peachy."

"Peachy" Can also be used sarcastically.

"You have a zit." "No, really? That's just peachy."

I commonly use the second phrase.

Speaking of zits.

I've always had pretty good skin.

Not gonna lie.

Yes, I am going to admit, I never really washed my face other than in the shower.

A couple of months ago I decided that I might want to wash my face. When I started washing my face, the acne started coming! What they heck! I thought washing your face was to prevent zits! What a joke. I only have like four. But still, that's a lot if you are used to none.

I'm going to go on a little tangent here.

AWKWARD.

I hate that word.

I hate the concept.

I hate the people.

I hate everything that has to do with it.

Yes. I, Samantha Jean, am awkward.

But not like annoying awkward.

I can say some pretty awkward things. And I'll be okay with it.

But when people are being the "dumb" awkward. Then that makes me mad.

If you tell me something, that is kind of important, and yet fail to text/call/contact me afterwards. That's awkward. Especially if we have a class together on Tuesday.

STOP THE MADNESS!

Man up and stop being awkward.

Or I'll be mad. And then you won't even get the chance to be awkward with me.

Contact me! Please.

I'm so confused.

You know why I'm so confused?

Because I'm a teenager.

I'm not proud to be a teenager, because simply put, most teenagers are idiots.

I'm 16 going on 17, I see about 2,000 different teenagers a day. And all I see is a bunch of................ teenagers.

Teenagers don't really get a ton of respect. Because of the idiot teenagers.

Don't get me wrong. Everybody can be an idiot. But there are those teenagers that are just constant, on-going idiots.

Teenagers have everything, but appreciate almost nothing.

Its something you either have been, are, or will be.

So that is why I'm confused.

Because I'm a teenager.

When I'm older, I like to think that life is going to be easier. But I know for a fact that it won't be.

Peachy.

Darn you teenagers!-

Master of the Pan Flute.

Don't Cry.

This is for me. Not for you. Not for your Grandma. Not for your cute little puppy named Spot.

Me. Samantha Jean.

The girl with blonde hair, stands at 5'9", thinks about one to many things within one minute, and is slowly conquered by one zit at a time.

You may be asking: What is for you Sam?

And boy do I have an answer for you.

My tears.

You know those salty little things resembling rain drops that come out of your glistening eyes?

Ya. Those.

Sometimes these tears come rushing out of your eyes, other times they come out softly and quietly. Strangely enough. I think both are just as harsh and hurtful.

Don't get me wrong. Tears aren't always bad. (Except for the fact that it ruins your carefully applied mascara) Tears can sometimes be after a good cat yawn. Or after you and your friends laugh till you almost pee in your brand new Rock Revival designer jeans. Sometimes, you even cry because you are overwhelmed with happiness.

But none of those "happy" tears are similar to my tears.

My tears are the sad ones, that nobody wants.

Being sad sucks. And that is the only way to put it.

Sucks.

Don't freak out. My whole life isn't just tears and sadness. I'm a happy person that would be over joyed to smile. And I smile. Because I love to smile, ya know, without the braces and all.

Catch you later-

Slamma Jamma.

I love dumb people.

Yesterday. Well, right now it is 1:05 am, so technically you would say two days ago. I was in my first accident. And it shook me up, a lot.

Not.

I rear ended a lady's car, going about ONE MPH. I wasn't even pressing on the gas. What does she do? That's right. Calls the cops. Why? Good question. She didn't even go and look at the damage before she called them. She just decided that she was too important and her car was injured in someway or another that she shouldn't even bother to get out of the car. I do have to say that her car was hurt, a plastic plug for the hitch was cracked. That was it.

I received a ticket.

I hate that lady.

Dummy.

So. My parents weren't mad at all. And I was so sad that they didn't ground me and take away my car. Psh. I bet that is what that mean dumb lady wanted, loser.

My dad had a work party, that he forced the whole family to go to. The entire time I met overweight, balding, and aging men. It was a blast.

Later in the night, Jonathan, Nathan, Alexa, Lexi, Jonah, and myself decided that a scary movie would be exciting. But boy was I wrong. I guess, I somewhat forgot how much I hate scary movies, and that I am a huge pansy.....

Let's just say, I left, and drug Jonah along with me.

Thanks Jonah.

Today, or yesterday if you are referring to before midnight, I went to the art festival in Park City with Jonah and his good ol' family. To sum it up, it was a blast, I love his family, and I got a super cool ring from Jonah.

A horse ring.

Made out of a beer bottle.

That's right.

God be with you til we meet again.

-Bear.