I have to go to stake cultural night tonight. I don't really want to go. I don't want to go at all. How, oh how can I get out of this? Maybe I'll think of something while I'm writing...

I've decided I adore Dave. The man is so adorable. He plays the depressed clown in the play, and he's fabulous. He's one of the most animated actors I've ever met, and he's so talented. He's the perfect metrosexual- the gay guy that's straight. He's a straight guy that knows how to moisturize and dress well. That's all I want in a guy, really; masculinity is over-rated. He's a smoker though, which is bad in my book. If only he were sexy. He's cute and endearing in his own way, I suppose, but he's just not beautiful. If only I could find a way of cramming his fabulous, addictive personality into NZ's beautiful lithe body. Dang.

Speaking of, I've decided that NZ is just lacking a personality. It's either not there, or it's currently being eaten by the monster that stupid boy keeps on injecting into his arm. Pity, the boy's so beautiful. Like I said before: a complete waste of olive skin. What a shame...

I'm talking with daddy on IM. Father's wonderful, I'm so blessed. He's a sweetie. He might take me on a cruise this summer. Definitely a sweetie.

Well Bugger! I see no reason why all the men in my life should be as sound as a pound except for the beautiful boy. Someone really ought to have a chat with him one of these days.

I haven't thought of anything yet. I suppose I'll have to go- what a shame.

Argh.