Dear Diary:

Hey! It’s me, Adam. Sorry I haven’t been able to give you much attention lately, but things have been so busy! Where should I begin?

I left for Sarasota Tuesday morning, a day late because there were talks of a hurricane. A hurricane is like a really big rain storm with lots of wind and sometimes it can get really dangerous and make people die and roofs blow away.

We didn’t see much rain on the way down, though we DID get into a minor automobile accident in Roanoke Rapids, North Carolina. Scary! It’s good nobody got hurt.

Oh boy, my friend is so pretty and smart and nice. It’s too bad I’m such an ugly dummy and my head is a funny shape and I’m pale and I wear goofy glasses and I have gross-looking toes and a tummy forming from not being in shape. But that’s life, Diary, and I play the cards I am dealt.

I’m going to Atlanta in a couple of days! A lot of people I know will be there for a weekend and I can take a bus and I’ll be on it for 14 hours but that’s OK because I’ll take a bus overnight and sleep for most of the trip. Then I’m going to light a giant firework off in the middle of Atlanta to celebrate. I bought it in South Carolina and it’s named The Spirit of ’76 and it’s about the size of a horse’s dick.

The weather has been magnificent the last two days, and I can only hope that it continues. I will spend my time on the beach, playing old Nintendo games and reading a book about submarines.

There have been no drugs down here and that is OK. I can say, with humble satisfaction, that I have not been drunk since I pooped in my pants on the playground. My friend, the lovely girl, is a fantastically positive influence. I will remain on my best behavior as long as she is around.

Golly do I get worried when I’m by myself. My mind wanders and makes me think of all these negative things and I get really sad. I’m doing well now though, because I know that tomorrow will be a good day. Every day will be a good day until I fly home, and then my good days will end. That’s just how it is.

Thanks for listening, Diary. I’m glad we are such good friends.

Love,
Adam

P.S. – You have something in your teeth. I think it’s basil!