Monday, Feruary 24, 1997 (age 12)

It is 10:40. Today was terriffic! We had salubrious rice and corn for dinner. Our Midevel Progects are due on March 10th . . . Today was illustrious, vital, exelent, grand, and great. Well, Love-Ya! Good-Night!

Saturday, Febuary 1, 1997 (age 12)

Lindsay just made me move from where I was first. I was leaning on the fridge and then she told me to move and said, "You don't need to lean on the fridge!" Then she leaned on it and I said, "Well you don't need to lean on the fridge!" Then she said "Well my back hurts." Then she spanked me. Then I said, "Well so does mine!" and I spanked her. Then she said, "So go lay doun," and pushed me away. For one thing, my back probably hurts more than hers, and for another thing, she's the one that hurt my back, and for another thing, chickens lay eggs and people lie down. She should have said, "So go lie down." then again, she shouldn't have been so selfish.

Friday, January 31, 1997

January has been so short! Maibie just another 30 or 31 days of a month for you, but It has been practacly here and gone for me. Dad and Lindsay went to Greece, and Russell and I stayed home and took turns on the computer. Dad told me his favorete Sonnet. It's # 34. It goes like this:

Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day,
And make me travel forth, without my cloak,
To let base clouds o'er take me in my way,
Hiding thy bravery in thier rotten smoke?
'Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break,
To dry the rain on my sun-beaten face,
For no man well of such salve can speak
That heals the wound and cures not the discrace.
Nor can thy shame give phisic to my grief;
Though thou repent, I have still the loss.
The ofender's sorrow lends but weak relief
To him that bears the strong offence's cross.

Ah! but those tears are pearl wich thy love sheds,
And they are rich and ransom all ill deeds.


I say one sonnet equals one person. Everyone can relat to one of Shakespere's sonnets, whether they like reading Shakespere or not. I love Shakespere, and I am begining to understand his way of writing.
Dad and I had a talk, and he appoligized for being so busy and not having time for me sometimes. I said it's okay, and he read me his favorete Shakespere sonnet. I love my dad. . .I hate the divorse, and I wish it were all a dream, and I would wake up and Mom and Dad would never have fought, and they made up and everything were fine and I were in 1st grade again and in North Carolina. Then I would know the future, and try to prevent it. This is a dream. All a dream, just a dream. I wish. Well, Good-Night! (today was realy great!)

Mon. Jan. 27, 1997

I wrote a page in my pink journal. (I spelled it right!) It was fun. Today was o.k. I came home sick after lunch, I was feeling nautious and I had a headache. Then I had 4 or 5 hours of sleep, and that caught up my sleep prety much. I need to do that again soon, very soon. It felt so good to be fresh. We didled around for awile then, then my mom went shoping for some things. She got milk and Ice-cream, and pizza, and something else that I don't know what it was. Then we ate dinner.

Monday, January 27, 1997 (age 12)

Hi! Don't worry, I have been writing these last 4 years. I just like to come back once and a while and reread my journals. Yes, I am still Elaine Ball, I am just 12 years old, insted of 8 now. I remember some of these days quite clearly. I am thank-ful for jornals (I still can't spell it.), so I can remember the events of my life so vividly. Now that I look back, I realize, I don't want to grow up. I want time to stop, and life to keep going, but I kind-of do want to grow up. Well, look in my big red journal that starts with Saturday, July 27, 1996. Good-Night! And, back to old tradition;

I
LOVE
YOU!

(I had terrible handwriting!) see-ya!

May 9, 1993 (age 8)

I Love my mother very much. It is mother's Day. I like mother's Day Becuse I can help my mother evry minite of the day.

Later . . .

It's at the last moment, I was trying to turn the page of the [magazine] I was looking at, when all of the suden I got cut. At first I THOGHT that I hadent done any harm, then I notesed I was in hon[or]able troble becuse I all of the sudn I was crying and asking for a bandade, even thghow, I new we dident have any. I finely said to myself that I had done no harm, it didn't hurt any-more. I stoped crying and went to my bed, Then I started my Jurnel. Now I can hold in my no-harm-done-hand.

The END

May 8, 1993 (age 8)

Today was good at the begining, and bad at the end. I Hate those kind of days!

I think I feel beter now. I Love my mom, Dad, sister, brother, and cat. I also Love my Relationship, with Carrie.

I Love
you!
(I Love
Carrie!)