Dear Diary,
If there is one thing that I can conclude from my family christmas, it is that my moms side of the family is definetly a conglomerate of cat people. not to be mistaken with dog people. The amount of enthusiam they show towards our cats is truly unprecedented.
Too much chick-lit is probably bad for my mental health. I've been reading quite a lot of this genre, it's like reading romance novels but the girls are sassier.
Thanks to the christmas bounty, I have all sorts of sassy outfits to wear on the cruise. I am now ten times more excited to go.
Love,
Diana
ps. i made it so people could put comments and no one ever does. if you don't like my blog at least make yourself heard!

Dear Diary,
Last night i was lying awake in bed. I couldn't sleep. But then I figured out why. It was because it was the day that our grades came out for first semester, and I hadn't checked them yet. Once I got that taken care of, I could sleep easy. Apparently i did really well on my Spanish final, and really bad on my international affairs final. I figure that they balance themselves out. And good news everyone! my gpa is more than good enough to keep my meager scholarship money. phew.
Speaking of Spanish, (a pun! sort of.) at work today Conrado came in for to get coffee, and we actually had a real conversation in Spanish. It was so exciting. He is a real Mexican and everything. I must have formed at least three sentences. fantastico!
We went to church tonight, for the christmas eve service. There was all together too much singing in the congregation. It's pretty painful. Whenever the Unitarians start singing, I can't help but look around and think, "who is actually enjoying this?! be honest!!"
Sometimes I am lonely, but I know I can write on my blog and that gives me purpose. God bless the internet this Christmas.
Love,
Diana

Dear Diary,
Today I worked for 8 and a half hours. that should be illegal. But it's good for me. I'll probably do this tomarrow as well. it makes me feel a little better about the excesses of christmas, to be working my way through it.
I found out today that one of my favorite teachers from highschool died last week. Mr. Neubeck. How come I know so many teachers that died from horrible cancers before they even got a chance to retire properly? I have some good Mr. Neubeck memories. I can't remember a whole lot that i learned in his class, but that seems less important than getting to know someone who was such a vivid personality. He had a lot of stories to tell us. Like how he met MLK in the middle of the night at Howard University and didn't even know it was him. He was full of stories, and for lack of a better word, wisdom.
He would always come to knowledge bowl at lunch, and he would be an extreme asset to the team that he chose to sit with. I was always team C. He was usually team B, sitting there with his school lunch. He got a lot of kids to go to knowledge bowl because he would give extra credit. I feel like someone should tell the new teacher that took his place to give extra credit for going to knowledge bowl. It's only fair. How else will kids know it's there? And grow to love it like i did? I think Neubeck had a pretty profound love for trivia games. Because on top of knowledge bowl at lunch, he would make his classes play news quiz once a week. That's quite a bit of time to devote to quizzing about current events.
He was so good a puns. I wish I could think of one right now for him, but none are coming. He was a great guy. We will miss him.
Love,
Diana

Dear Diary,
I had a dream last night that i went out to a bar with my brother and tried to use one of emily's old IDs. It was possibly the worst fake ID in history because it had all these holes punched in it, it was just a school ID that didn't say her birthday, and it was just paper. I tried to play it cool with the bouncer lady at the door, but somehow she didn't believe that it was me. She asked me like a hundred questions about myself, and then was like "follow me" and took me into this scary basement. Then she showed me a bunch of those black blobs that psychologists use on tv, and kept asking me what they reminded me of. This was all in an effort to see if I was 21. I was sure that I passed with flying colors, but after all that she told me to leave. So then I was stuck in a dark alley and i couldn't find my brother. All in all, not a good dream.
5 days until freeburgs do mexico.
Love,
Diana

Dear Diary,
I have spent today in a mall, watching tv, and reading a novel that might as well have been tv. I also took a nap. this is much different than the all-academics, all-the-time atmosphere that is lewis and clark. But I am adjusting to this strenuous lifestyle fairly well. I don't know what i am going to do with myself after the cruise. I will have two weeks at home to do nothing. there won't even be any christmas shopping to do. apparently there's a woman at my church that needs her dog walked. but that doesn't sound full time to me.
g2g brother is home.
Love,
Diana

Dear Diary,
I have noticed from my visitor tracking device that since winter break has started, my readership has been more evenly distributed across the timezones. I am suspecting this is because my loyal Lewis and Clark readership has gone back to their respective homes. It's good to see you still care guys!
I am all partied out. My mom took me to all sorts of wild parties today. At least when you come back from college people are more willing to talk to you. It goes something like this:
"Hi Emily!"
"I'm Diana, Emily is my sister"
"Yes of course! I knew that!"
"Umm yeah... we look the same... it's cool."
"So! How's school!?"
"It's good. I like it. I um, study a lot."
"Yeah, yeah. That's good! Sooooooo, what are you studying?"
"uh, you know, the usual. Spanish, international affairs, communications, ceramics, and some other stuff."

this is the part where i explain that i don't know what i am going to major in, but it's the experience that counts. the conversation generally peters out about here. Unless one of the parents jump in and tell them all about my website. then i get embarrased. Kind of like how Julia Roberts gets when her husband starts bragging about her Oscar.
Love,
Diana