It's My Party and I'll Cry if I want to.

Dear Jack,
I've one of the worst migraines today. My left eye isn't seeing clearly, and my head is hurting badly. The meds are effecting it, but I think I'm going to stay in my room all day away from loud crowds and the bright sun. Justin and I have made up, and all is good between us. I prayed to God about it, that the best thing would work out. I have faith that God has answered my prayers, for it was very easy for us to work out our problems. As usually it was miscommunication based on AIM. AIM is the devil, it even corrupts Trillian.

I've started to add my journal from my Germany trip in eleventh grade to my blog. I've only one passage down, but feel the rest will come soon enough. I wish I knew how to put pictures in my blog, it would be really nice. I also need to see about getting Justin to send me some of the pictures he took from my birthday party, and when Lisa and Steiner brought cookies up to me, and Anna brought some kick-ass cookware. This has indeed been my favorite birthday in a long time.

Last year it was on a Sunday, so we celebrated on Saturday night. We had Daniel We...ll, Lisa, and Grace Ph...s over, and I know some other people. Mid way Chris Green came back because he was upset with the Celtic Cross (Presbyterian Elitist) Retreat. He brough a bottle of Jack Daniels with him. I know we watched some sappy gay movie about a baseball team which was reminiscent of poor episode of Queer as Folk. This sparked a conversation with Chris about sexuality. In the process Daniel came out to the whole room which shocked Caleb and I. We watched some more TV, I think Iron Monkey to which Wetherell and I fell asleep on my bed holding hands. I woke up after dreaming that Daniel, Grace, and WYlie were having an orgy in the loft. I went to go investigate and passed out in front of the door. Chris and Caleb found me like that and woke me up, Chris being drunk made comments like "What if there's a fire? We'll never move his fat ass." and "Is he dead??" and other comical stuff. When I tried to get up, my foot caught the closet door and it swung open, scaring Chris, who beat it against me. I went to bed in my bed assured that there was no orgy, and Caleb in his, and Chris on our futon.

This birthday was a lot better even with the little argument Jusitn and I had, for we made up, and making up is one of the best things about an argument.