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Dear Diary,

I wish that sometimes my family would understand that I dont want to be perfect anymore. They try to mold me, fold me, transform me into this black barbie. I'm not perfect and I wasn't created to be perfect in any way. Right now the family is ignoring me and paying attention to my cousin because she had a total hair and face makeover. its kind of good because they dont have to pay attention to me and what I'm doing on the hour, every hour, and call my blackberry or house number. I hate it when they check up on me like that.

Anyways, I just DONT WANT TO BE MISS PERFECT ANYMORE. Why cant they get that no one is perfect and you cant make anyone to be perfect. trust me. being a real person is MUCH better than being a plastic barbie doll. stare