Blah, blah, blah...

I should make a habit of entering stuff in my journal just for the heck of it. All it seems is that I write once and in a blue moon and that's it. Lame, I know, but sometimes I really don't have anything to say.

My little sister's school starts next semester. I can't believe that she is a senior in high school already. And at the age of twenty-two, I feel old. I feel ancient for crying out loud. So lame, but so true.

Also it seems that in Hollywood, the first thing an eighteen-year-old celebrity female hears is, "Happy Birthday, here's your new breasts."

Wee... boobies.