Once upon a time in Kilkenny
there lived a small girl name-ed Jenny.
She called me a snob
and then asked for a job
and now she would kill for a penny.

No one calls the ruler of now all the British Isles as well as Spain a snob!!!

Too harsh?

I think not.

...
.....

She called me a snob!!!

I thought I was getting taller but I'm not.

Wesley wants to invite me to his birthday party. It's two doors down from my mansion in Glasgow but I am NOT leaving my bed. The last time I was outdoors I was in Paris with no food, no contacts, but most importantly no jewelry. I was all alone and scared until I broke into Mr. Gaudet's apartment (I found out that guy's name after the police stormed in) and went online and asked what I should do. Caroline said I should call my butler. That worked perfectly. But that was terribly traumatic.

I will not go to Wesley's party. He is terribly disappointed, I know, but I suppose he will be fine eventually. I'm not going anywhere for I am afraid that if I leave my mansion I will next end up in...Mississippi! Those Mississippians are much too difficult to understand. So no, I will not attend Wesley's party.

Wait...maybe he could have it here! Yes, he can have it here!!! In the cellar, of course. His guests will be okay at his house watching a video or something. Not enough room in my cellar for all of them. Wesley can put up decorations in the cellar, he can bring food, it'll be great! Just as long as he cleans up afterwards.

I am so brilliant! I will call him right now!

I'm not who you think I am...

lol, j/k

Anyway, I think Canada is coooooool.

I have a...cultured taste in music.

I went to sleep last night in my castle in Glasgow (I'd had a party celebrating my astonishing wealth) and I woke up in France!

I was underneath a bridge, sitting in a stream with my head in my lap when I heard a group of children above my head. That was weird, since I do not allow children in my castle. I looked around and, oh, the horror, I saw that I was wearing a dirty pink dress with red socks!

Pink??? Dirty??? Red??? DRESS???

The children were laughing. I looked up and realized they were laughing at me!

This infuriated me. "What are you laughing at?!" I aksed, horrified that they'd dare laugh at someone of my stature.

"Rien, rien," a particularly inconsiderate rugrat answered. They left.

That confused me. She knew English, otherwise she wouldn't have answered me. Yet she answered in French.

Anyway, here I am, online. I broke into someone's apartment and am using their computer. I need to get back to Glasglow! Someone please help!!! In ENGLISH!!!

I want to master the instruments!!

I'm not strong enough.

I used to be a cutter.

Mitchell says he hasn't been by to see me cause I'm a snob. He says my incredible wealth and house on the coast of Scotland have gone to my head.

Insanity. I am not the kind of person to let my millions of dollars, huge houses, thriving music label, gift of summoning woodland animals, millions of doting fans, calls from the president to do lunch, and free Swiss cinnamon toast by the truck-load go to my gorgeous head.

So upon hearing this from Mitchell after I hired my henchman to summon him to me, I said, NO MORE. No longer will I listen to my "friends" tell me things I have heard so many times before. I do not understand why the American/Canadian/European peasants have such a problem with me and my good fortune.

But I do have one American friend left. Caroline. I shall have to call her sometime soon. Maybe she'd like to accompany me on my trip to my palace in Glasgow. We shall browse my museum of argyle socks and have my maid, Orthlaigh fetch us caviar flavored Gatorade and sit on the solid gold patio furniture her hot Sicilian boyfriend was forced by law to make for me.

Yes. Yes, this sounds like a grand idea.

I feel much better now. I have something to look forward to!