I told my parents about the progress report in English. They were angry. Especially Father. He told me I couldn't leave the house except for school or church, I couldn't leave the school campus for lunch, I couldn't go to the band room during study hall anymore, I couldn't use my computer anymore, and I had to report all of my homework assignments to him. All of this would continue until I made all A's at some grading point. That wasn't too bad, though. That was when he told me that if I didn't make all A's at semester, I would have to drop out of band.

The only other time I've seriously wanted to kill myself was on the bus coming back from the Open, after that horrible incident with Jonathan. But I was on a school bus with twenty hyper musicians, severely limiting my suicide opportunities. By the time we got home, I had decided that I would much rather kill Jonathan than myself.

But the night that Father made his pronouncement... I couldn't see another way out. I did not see how it would be possible to make all A's. English wasn't the problem. Yeah, I had a D in there at the moment, but that was just from being lazy. We were soon going to have a test, and several major grades on our research papers. Plus, my grade the previous nine weeks had been a 94. Pulling an A at semester would not be all that hard. Pre-Cal, AP American History, and band weren't posing in problems.

My problem was chemistry. Half the class was failing. I wasn't failing, but I did have a low C. There were two A's in a class of near thirty. My previous nine weeks grade: 89. I worked my butt off.

And came out with an 86 for the second nine weeks. The only way to make an A for semester was to score 98 or higher on the final. I had never before made even a 90 on a normal chemistry test. So I started living and breathing chemistry. I even memorized the speed of light to nine places. 299792458 meters per second. I don't know why I memorized that, because it's stored in my calculator.

Scratch that. I memorized it because Jonathan did. I must be crazy.

The chemistry final was 8:00-9:30 a.m. last Thursday, my last test. I took nearly the entire time to answer the 100 multiple-choice questions. The final was surprisingly easy, though that may be due more to my studying for a week than the nature of its questions.

I made a 97.

But wait! I also made the highest grade in the class. Making my 97, 100. Giving me all A's for semester.

Ahem, yes, so that was my exceedingly long, boring story of how I came to be back at my computer. May such things never happen again, and may my transcript remain spotless. Amen.

Other events having transpired since November 13, otherwise known as the last time I updated:

Jonathan and Robert won huge music scholarships to UCA.

I saw Harry Potter and Fellowship of the Rings. I liked them both.

I got a Tool CD, and I love it.

Jonathan spoke three words to me. "Sorry," when he dropped a stand on me in the band room. "Thank you," when I was talking to Jamie on the phone and told her to tell him congrats on the scholarship.

I gave Jonathan a Tool shirt for Christmas, which he reportedly REALLY REALLY liked. As in, Jamie gave it to him (naturally I was too much of a weenie to give it to him myself) when she got home from school, he opened it, he gaped at it, and he spent the rest of the day talking about how awesome his shirt was. Then he wore it the next day, but naturally that was the day I didn't go to school because I didn't have any tests. I haven't laid eyes on him since Jamie gave him the shirt, actually. I'm hoping that when I do, he may thank me. Then I could have five words.

Rachel and Ben started dating?!?!

Jeremy's dad beat up Johnathan, Jeremy's twelve-year-old brother, with a tree limb. Jeremy's mom called the police, and Mr. Johnson got slapped on the wrist with a one-month suspension.

I scored in the 99th percentile nationwide on the PSAT. So I'll be a National Merit Semifinalist.

Blah.

Today I had to go to a family gathering in Little Rock. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Kathryn is in love with Daniel Radcliffe. I personally thought the guy who played Neville was better looking, but that's probably just because he looks like Jonathan.

It just occurred to me that I forgot to expand on How I Contemplated Suicide on the night of the Proclamation. Yeah. Well. I went in my bathroom and got some cleaner out from under the sink and poured it into a cup and held the cup to my lips... and threw it into the sink and went to bed. None of it really seems very clear anymore. I just remember wanting to die. But I couldn't do it. Thankfully.

I love Angela's diary. She reminds me a lot of me, only smarter and a lot harder-working. But... someone find me another intelligent, conservative, funny, Christian band nerd who has never had a boyfriend.

I miss Jonathan. Not just in an ordinary, semi-achy whiny sort of way. More like a way that defines who I am. I... miss Jonathan. In so many ways.

I need to stop writing in this, because I need to sleep. Though I know that when I hit the "done!" button, I won't go to sleep. I'll just check my email, and then disconnect from the net and play American McGee's Alice. Oh well.