My Weekend

I took a bus home this weekend. The bus driver was eating chips and drinking pop and didn't have his hands on the steering wheel while he was driving. It doesn't actually bother me, but I figure it might make my mom think that's why I don't take a bus. Maybe she'll come pick me up now. I doubt it.
I got a grad dress this weekend. It's strapless, so I'm going to have to do something about that (probably in the way of a clear strapped bra) and it's blue. It has some ruching on the skirt but that's okay. Tomorrow I find out if it has to be rushed (apparently it takes like four months to get a dress ordered and my grad is at the end of May) and we'll have to pay extra if it is. I also found out that I have very wide hips.
Sucks, but whatever. Like Laura says, we have "child bearing hips" which is funny because Caitlyn, who's a size zero or two or something has narrow hips and she's the only one of us who wants children.
I have to buy some shoes and start practicing walking in them. I can't trip at grad. It'd be funny, but I don't want to get hurt (especially since I already hurt my damn ankle in grade 9).
That's just one less thing to worry about.
Yay!
I'm happy.
I actually felt like writing today, which is good. But I noticed that it wasn't as easy as it is when I write a lot. I know, I know. Practice makes perfect, but I'm lazy.
I will try to write more, but that is a jinx. Every time I say it (usually about journals) I never follow through. And I don't know if I already wrote this (I know I've said it, but maybe I didn't write it) but I'm going to wait to write my other novels (yes there are two in the works) until after I've finished at least the second draft of JF.
I want to be done with it.
I want to publish it.
I want to be a writer, but I'm too afraid of failure to put all my hopes and dreams on it. I figure I'll go to Lakeland in the fall and study to become a Pharmacy Technician and I'll write after work/school and finish this and the other novels. Hopefully I can publish them, just to have it out there. I don't care about money.
Well I do, but I don't care about making money on my novels.
Okay, I'm getting ahead of myself.
Finish this one.
Go to college.
Write the other two.
Et cetera.