Dear Lovely Readers,

Today is Thursday, May 8, 2008.

This is Entry Number 49.

Although I agree with those who are saying he was beginning to sound a bit predictable, I must say that I was terribly sad to see Jason Castro leave "American Idol" last night. He is such a unique performer, and has such talent, and I must add that he was simply adorable. But I don't really think "American Idol" was Jason's thing; I think he'll do all right, even without winning. Speaking of winning, I really think my guy David Cook is going to do it. He's my favorite from since the beginning of the whole show. Yes, it came on when I was like six, so I don't quite remember the days of Kelly Clarkson, but I'm not that fond of her, so I feel all right saying that rocker David is my all-time favorite in "American Idol" history.

Since I think it's mostly if not wholly ladies reading my blog, I can use code and say that it "my time of the month." So I tossed and turned all night last night until eleven o'clock, having cramps like you wouldn't believe. I finally got up and took some motrin at one in the morning and went right to sleep. Of course I then woke up at five o'clock. Well, since I am merely a child, I feel all right admitting that I'm not all that fond of lying in my dark bedroom all alone at five in the morning, so I turned the radio on, hoping it would distract me from my thoughts of the mothman from the movie "The Mothman Prophecies." Well, being delerious with stomach pain, I forgot to reset my alarm and ended up sleeping until eleven.  So I'm really off track today. I've been lying around bitching and moaning for the past two days and things were just getting of control, and I simply cannot function when things are messy, so I spent most of the day cleaning. Whenever an adult sees my room, they always tell I'm the weirdest teenager they've ever seen. My room is spotless. It's not an obsessive compulsive thing (to a certain degree), it's more just the fact that I cannot function with crap laying all over the place. So I picked up the clothes off the floor, vaccuumed, dusted, cleaned the windows and mirrors, did laundry, the whole shootin' shabang. As a result of this, I feel a little better.

Even though I clean like one of those obsessive mothers who only has one kid, I am still a teenage girl and have to make a teenage girl confession: There is a play at SPA tomorrow and someone that I've been stalking for a while now will be performing in it. All right, yeah, I'm talking about the fabulously gorgeous, gorgeously fabulous Seth Riley. So my aunt recently bought me this gorgeous knee-length pink dress with dark pink flowers on it. And I'm going to wear it to the play. But I don't want to look under dressed, so I made Re buy a dress just for tomorrow night. I think Lily's going to wear a dress, too. I'm also going to do the whole Taylor Swift look again with my hair. I'm sure we're all going to look stupid, but at least we'll feel purdiful.

As most of you probably know by now, I am a huge fan of Panic at the Disco. I just about had a heart-attack when I found out that they were the musical guest on "Saturday Night Live" a month or two ago. I taped it, and I've watched it like a billion times since then.  Well, they'll be performing on "Letterman" tonight, so Lily and I are going to stay up until midnight or whenever they perform and watch it. I'm terrified I'm going to forget to tape it. Yes, for an obsessive fan-girl, that would be the end of the world.

So I think I've thoroughly pissed Max off. Again. I pretty much lost it with him on Monday and said some things about Connie Mailla that I shouldn't have. But he just cannot let it go. And the most difficult part is that he catches me at the worst possible moment and corners me. Like, I'll be sitting there in History, trying to take notes and he'll just blurt out, "Why do you hate Connie so bad?" And I'm just sick of it. So we're sitting there on Monday and he hits me with it: "Will you tell me what the deal is now?"

I think Re knew that I've had it with him, so she casually leads Allie and Cami away.

"All right, Max," I said. "I'm going to talk to you about this not because I want to talk about it --- I don't --- but because I can see how heavily this is weighing on your mind."

He nodded and sat down beside me.

"All right, " I said agian. "I want to preface this with this: I love you to death, Max, I really do. You're a great guy and you're fun and you're just . . . a good guy, okay? But . . . I don't 'like' you. That's all there is to it." I'm big on air-quotes, in case you've not noticed.

He almost looked hurt at first but then just nodded, sighed, and said, "I know that."

"But Max, Connie does. Connie is head-over-heels in love with you."

He just looked at me.

"And you like her."

He kept looking at me.

"Don't you?"

He nods. "Is that why you don't like her?"

"No!" I think I scared him because I just about whacked him in the head jumping up and flinging my arms in the air. "That's not it at all."

"But you don't like her."

I hesitated, not knowing how to put it. "No. I don't."

"Why?"

And that's when I lost it. "Because Connine Mailla is a phony. She is the biggest phony I have ever seen in my entire life. And I cannot stand to be around someone like that. Do you understand that, Max?"

He nodded, but he didn't mean it.

"Are we good now?"

He didn't say anything.

"I don't like her, Max, I don't. But that doesn't mean you can't. Okay?"

He nodded and walked away.

I didn't see him much after that, but I talked to him later on and he just seemed a little sad. I feel bad if I upset him, but he just needs to suck it up and be a man about it! I don't like his girlfriend; I can't stand her. And if he can't get that through that warped mind of his, then I guess I have no use for him. Max is different, ever since he started hanging out with Connie, and I just don't really want to have anything to do with him anymore. I mean, if he wants to say hi to me as we pass in the corriders and hug me when I leave, fine. But I'm not going to make an effort to hang out with him anymore. I've given up on him.

Maybe my Ryan Ross will come along someday, but right now I think I'm all right just hanging out with Regan and Lily. I don't mean to be all "oh, I'm too good, I don't need boys." Boys are great inventions, they really all. They can be fun, and smart, and absolutely gorgeous (hence Seth Riley); but sadly they can also be idiots. And if the only guys I can find are just that, then I'm going to stick with my girl-friends until the real deal comes along.

So that's my thing.

Take care, all.

Charlotte