First Post. Hello, Internet!

Freshman. Freshman. Freshman, freshman, freshman, I'm a freshman.
It snuck up on me. Not only high school but teenagerdom in general. (I won't say adolescence.) Eighth grade was like a hopscotch game: I started standing solidly on September, hopped once to winter break, skipped forward to April break, and suddenly wobbled on June. School ends obscenely late here in Suburbia, so I did spend almost the entire month in school. Our finals were pathetic attempts to acclimatize us to the Tests That Mean Something we'll soon be taking. The second day of the Social Studies one was canceled, as was school, due to swine flu paranoia. The last week was a combination of halfhearted farewell pranks, teachers trying to cram in important lessons, and rain. Lots of rain. So much rain one could say it's insane.
I've always felt a year older than I actually am/was but I guess that's the curse of having a summer birthday. When I was twelve I felt thirteen. Now I feel fifteen even though I'm still thirteen. Being a voracious reader, I often feel like my life is a novel and sometimes I'm guilty of trying to make it more so. Summers have never been particularly eventful for me though. None of those rite-of-passage summer romances for me. In fact, the closest thing I've had to a romance is a crush that almost became something after one year and one month. I got a little freaked out that something was actually happening to me and screwed it up. It was his birthday a couple of days ago; I did nothing.
Before I start acting like my life is a big ball of crisis I'd like to say four things:
1. Most of the slang I use I got from my daily e-mails from Urban Dictionary.
2. Everything I say is true because I'm too lazy to think of lies.
3. I'm really lucky to have everything I do: a loving family, a stable household, nice clothes, great friends.
4. I'm a SILLY PERSON.
So thank you to whoever decided to give me the life I have. And thanks for reading, if you are.