Daria's Diary by PlainJaneLane Dear Diary, This is something I‘ve secretly wanted to do, have a diary and record my rants, thoughts, and experiences to look at in the future. Grandma sent a diary to me as a birthday present...but of course, she also sent one to the favorite little princess, Quinn. At first, Quinn was given the one with the black cover, and I...well, pink. This goes without saying (why am I saying it? Oh, screw it.), but we traded. Jane’s family has been having it’s dysfunctional joys. It seems that all of Amanda’s kids are visiting her home in cozy Lawndale, and occupying the whole friggin’ house. Jane is pissed, Trent’s pissed, and I’m sure Amanda is, too. Well, not much has happened with me. G’night, I’m bored. (As usual.) Sincerely (?), Daria Dear Diary, Jane’s decided to move into our house temporarily (to get away from her crazy family), much to the dismay of Quinn. Here’s basically what happened: “Why are you so pale?” asked Quinn, examining Jane’s skin tone. “Because I’m a...well, I shouldn’t speak about it.” Jane said, looking worried. “What? You can tell me, it’s not like anyone I know would care about it.” Quinn said, waving a hand dismissively. “Okay, if you must know...I’m actually a very vicious vampire.” Quinn laughed, turned away, and then Jane took her plastic fangs from her pocket and proceeded to bite her. Eh, that’s Jane, for you. Quinn shrieked and skittered off, and of course, Dad didn’t notice. Serves her right. Jane has been drawing some pictures for stories I wrote...illustrations really do make stories look much better, but that can’t be said for everyone. Why the hell do I say Sincerely? You‘re an inanimate object, for Christ‘s sake!, Daria Dear Diary, Oh, Jesus, I’ve been beating myself up over nothing, or so Jane says. Today, I came downstairs for breakfast, and Trent was sitting at the breakfast table. I then learned he, too, would be moving in temporarily. Guess what I said, if you can even consider it speaking? “Eep!” Yes, eep, the way Brittany would yelp it. I hate sounding like a Teen Magazine embarrassing moment victim, but that was horrifying. Then, Mom had to dwell on it and say, “Oh, Daria, what’s the matter?” Jane smirked, that daughter of a bitch. I’ll get my revenge, I will. Thank Lord Trent’s practically oblivious to everything, and he was busy reading the back of a Nutty Crunch box. Even if he didn’t notice, I still feel embarrassed. Wait, it just occurred to me that I’ve been writing basically a short story on something that lasted 2 seconds. Diary, you’re making me do this. What kind of voodoo tricks did Grandma play on you? What is it that attracts me so much to Trent? Well, diaries are for writing down stupid thoughts, so I suppose I’ll write my list of attractive things about Trent here. 1. His hair. I love the way it’s so tousled and spiky. 2. His eyes. They’re a gorgeous shade of dark brown. 3. His goatee. Why goatees are attractive, I’ll never know. 4. His figure. He’s tall and slim. Hey, it’s better than short and fat. Gah. 5. His personality. I wish I could describe it. Well, I’d continue wasting time, but I’ve got to go. Daria Dear Diary, Jane and Trent invited me to Pizza King. We all went out and had a great time, until Sandi and Tiffany, Fashion Club members, noticed us. They came over and (can you believe this?) hit on Trent. What the hell? First, they were like, “Hey, where are you from?” and Trent just glared them down until they left. So it’s not just me who thinks Trent’s ...hot (what a juvenile term...)? I have competition, ha. Wanting Trent, Daria Dear Diary, In the words of the ever-so intellectual Quinn, “Today SUCKED!” Me and Jane were in Quinn’s room, getting consulted about a date outfit, when Dad called Trent down for his date. Okay, even if he doesn’t know I like him, and even if I’m not his ex-girlfriend or anything...I was jealous. I mean, having hate in my eyes, jealous. Me and Jane rushed to the window to see the lucky b!%#$. Jane, of course, rushed to the window to see who her brother was dating because she wanted to spy on him. Siblings. I, of course, rushed to the window to see who Trent was breaking my heart with. This girl was a freaking model. Boobs, anorexic body, volume infused hair, perfectly applied makeup, and sexy but not sluttish clothing. Her name? Monique. Gah, even a good name. So Quinn, being the caring sister she is, offered me a makeover. I must admit that it was kind of her, but a makeover could do nothing for me. I went to my room, locked the door, and cried. Even Jane couldn’t get in. Four hours later, after my loyal friend had waited beside the door the whole time, (well, I don’t know, maybe she went downstairs to get some potato chips), I opened the door. Jane jumped back. I asked her why, and she told me to look in the mirror. Oh...my...Lord. My eyes were completely red. I mean, RED, not pink. To top things off, my hair (from being tossed and buried and flung around while I was sobbing) was...actually, in a good style. Almost like Monique’s. Oh, f**k, Trent’s home. Daria Dear Dairy, You would never believe it, but Trent was actually looking tearful when he came home. It was at least 3:00 in the morning, and me and Jane were still up in my room with the lights off. We heard the door to my room open and a tall figure, Trent, walked in. “Janey, mind if I talk to you about something?” he sniffed, trying to hide his crying. “Uh, no problem. What’s up?” asked Jane. Trent, who smelled of alcohol, told us about his breakup with Monique. He reached for who he thought was Jane (uh, that would be ME) and began to hug me, with his head over my shoulder and his arms tightly grabbing my torso. Jane flipped the lights on dim and just mouthed, “Go ahead...” and left. Let me just say that this was...awkward. “Jane, it was all my fault. I just couldn’t stop thinking of this other girl. And Monique said she could tell that I was with someone else. I never even touched the other girl!” Trent sobbed, and finally lifted his head and wiped his tears. “Daria?!” he asked, almost in fear. “Listen, Trent, it sounds like you’ve been through a lot. Want to sleep in here tonight? Me and Jane won’t bug you unless you need us. And let me just say, Monique doesn’t know what she wants. She’s probably just going to use every guy she comes across, and this was her pathetic attempt at breaking off a relationship. It‘s not your fault, and you deserve much better.” I said, holding Trent’s hand. “Thanks, Daria.” Trent said, and tried to stand, but collapsed in my arms. “Poor, drunk, boy.” said Jane. I looked up to see her standing in the doorway. Trent was obviously unconscious. “A little help?” I asked, lifting Trent slightly. Me and Jane heaved Trent onto the bed, got him some water and medicine, then went downstairs to watch taped Sick, Sad World on low volume. Dear Diary, Extremely exciting news. And for once, no sarcasm attached. Trent said that what I did last night really helped him, and I’m a great friend...but he’d like to be more than friends (whoo, exciting part), but I’m too young. He said we can go out and maybe have a relationship, but keep it low-profile. Jane, of course, was in a state of joy. She gave me 50 bucks she got for one of her paintings, and sent me and Trent out to dinner. It was wonderful, and not only that, but me and Trent even kissed a little! I don’t think I’m in love...I am in love. Sorry for the mushy-crap overload. Daria .:End:.