I recently got in to a conversation with an acquaintance about the nature of insanity and the mentally ill, and I guess he didn't know about me (bipolar) because the stuff he was saying was really unnerving. I mean, I don't think of myself as mentally ill. But I guess I am. And is that what others say about me? I'm crazy? That I'm mentally ill? I am going to think more on this . . .

I think I've decided on a tattoo design for my 18th birthday.

Smoking hookah and pot with your pseudo/semi/kinda-boyfriend, his older sister and father, and two other friends is not something you really forget. Gina is Michael's sister who I've known longer than Michael himself and Michael is my pseudo/semi/kinda-boyfriend who I've known since middle school. I work with Gina at a dance studio (Did I say I got a job at a dance studio? Choreographing jazz/ballet technique and assistant choreographing hip hop). But her arguing with Michael in front of their father about whose pot pipe we were using was just something else.

The next day was Thursday and it was Taylor's 17th birthday so me and a bunch of others decided to skip school and go to Knott's Barry Farm. And Knott's on a Thursday morning is frickin empty, it was awesome. We immediately went on 4 rides twice each time. We basically finished the entire park in like 2 hours, but we were like, on the floor from dizziness. It was tough, but the day overall was pretty fun.

<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rmhll6BGOoU" target="_blank">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rmhll6BGOoU</a>