Dear diary

#3 Packing my bags (Rosie)

Good morning, one day left until the big moving out spectacle. I'm getting more and more nervous. I have the whole day to pack my bags. What do people bring with them? 

First step, the clothes. It's a lot colder in New York than it is here in Vietnam. My dad doesn't give me much attention so instead of attention he just gives me clothes. Clothes with brands and I hate it. I don't want to be seen as the rich girl the first day of school. There are a few pieces of normal clothes in my closet. Let's just put those in my suitcase. I need a lot of jackets because of the coldness. I only have denim jackets so that's not really a hard choice. But I really need to think about what I'm going to bring with me so I will continue writing later this day. 

.....

So I'm going to tell what just happened. I decided to look in the messy pile in the corner of my room. The one corner that I didn't look at for months. It's so messy. So I thought let's go trough it and see what I have and what I can put in the trash. I found some old clothes, shoes, old fluffed animals, old Halloween costumes and some other weird stuff.  But then, I moved the last pile of clothes to the side and there it was. An old box, I know it doesn't sound so interesting but I opened it. I was shocked.

It was my old sketching book and pencil case. I suddenly remembered that once my passion was drawing. I couldn't stop drawing for months. I decided to look inside the book. I saw some drawings of things I can't remember. Some I remember but not very well. And now I'm thinking I should start drawing again. I know it makes me happy. The book is still on my lap while I'm writing this. I'm going to put them in my suitcase, I heard about Perkson High having an art club. I might going to join it. I do really need some help with drawing, it was my passion but I wasn't very good at it. 

Most of the time I was drawing nature and animals. And things that inspired me in my daily life. My mom always admired my art. My dad on the other hand did not care at all, like most of the time. I barely speak to him to be honest. He is a strange man. He works 24/7 and doesn't talk that much. He is rich, that's kinda everything I can say about him. But I don't really want to talk about it right now. I excepted it so it doesn't really matter anymore. At least.. that's what I'm telling myself right now.