Flying

for

Dear diary,

Is it odd that I ask you questions like you could actually answer?

See, there I go again. I guess it doesn't make a difference. It's just me wondering to myself. Maybe it helps me organize my thoughts? I don't know why I do it, even.

I'm not going to stop.

Paper Hand's current showing ends tomorrow, so I'll get to start helping out. I can't wait! I wonder if they'll let me help paint one of the big faces, or if they'll let me help with the storyline. Will I get a spot in the performance itself, or do newbies not get the chance to show off the first time around? I wonder whether or not I'll make friends.

If the people there are anything like my art nerd hippie circus friends, then I think we'll get along brilliantly.

There was a basketball game today, and the cheerleaders asked whether or not I could come to see how they're getting along without me. I said sure, even though that sounded kind of intimidating, and they looked really good. The bratty new girl can do back handsprings like nobody's business.

Then again, I don't think that she could do a roll-up to bird on a silk with slow instructions, and I got it with one demonstration on my first try.

Take that, new cheerleader. Take that.

Kimberly