Daddy’s little tomboy, that’s me alright. I had to DJ a dance tonight. The dance was a father/ daughter dance. I made 40 bucks. It was a very formal event. I thought it’d be fine to wear my corduroys pants (khaki in color), a black shirt, my hair in chop sticks, and his hemp necklace he gave me to wear for a while. I thought I’d be fine. When I got there, all the little girls were running around in dresses and men were in tuxes. I looked around and started laughing. Dad and I looked like shit compared to everyone.

My 8th grade Kendall was there and we did swing dancing. It was a lot of fun. Her name is Katie, and we didn’t quit dancing. It was a lot of fun. It’s hard to believe considering everything that happened between us.

Today at play practice I was exceptionally playful, and I played Charlie’s Angels. I jumped up on benches, pretending my hands were a gun. I was jumping up on one and the bench moved (I hate it when that happens). I fell down on it and banged up my shin like a bitch. The wind was basically knocked out of me. I have a bruise and a bump the size of a golf ball.

I’m going to marry Jimmy Fallon! He’s so goddamned funny.

I’m also going to marry him…. What in hell am I thinking? No I’m not. I’m such a fag. Get over it Jones! He doesn’t love you.