Saturday, June 18th, 2011

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Saturday, June 18th, 2011

12:41 pm

Dear Diary,

You know, one of my least favorite things about being a teenager — besides zits — is always worrying about my weight. I hate — and I mean hate — to say this, but let’s face facts. My mom is overweight. Not that I care or anything. My mom is the absolutely best person you’ll ever meet.

I’ve got good genes, too. There are physical traits in my family that could classify me as beautiful someday — traits that I’ve been starting to inherit. My mom, for instance, was a big-boobed woman. My grandma comes from a tall family. I think I get my thick hair from nana, but I’m not entirely sure.

There are also a lot of other things that I think, at the very least, could make me pretty. I have full lips. I’m fairly curvey. I have long legs. I can grow my nails a lot longer than most women. My ears aren’t too small or too big. My nose just barely curves at the tip. My stomach is flat.

Of course, I also have a lot of unattractive characteristics. My teeth are crooked. My feet aren’t the prettiest. I have waay too many zits. I also have a hard time find a bra that fits; it either tries to smoosh my boobs back into my chest, or they’re constantly falling out. I mean, I’m fourteen! I probably shouldn’t be having this problem!

Oh, I’m really hungry. And there’s pizza downstairs in the basement! G’bye!

Love,

Alison

1:03 pm

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