I don’t know about you, but I have some… issues with using my phone to actually call people. Always had. I mean, I can handle calling my parents or closest friends because I got used to it. And I absolutely HATE calling doctors to make an appointment. I know, I know, I’m an adult and not a little girl anymore. Well… Mom, can’t you call the doctor, please?? I think a lot of you have the same ‘issues’ and I think it’s because we use our phones for texting and texting and texting. Not for calling anymore. Remember when we were little and called our friends on family phone asking if they can go out and play? Oh, where did those times go…
Love, Nia … xoxo
I guess I inherited my detective skills from my Mom. Remember how she knew I talked to my crush? Well, here comes two hours in my room trying to find him on any social media. Can you believe I could not find him anywhere on the internet? He practically doesn’t exist, right? So now I wonder if he’s not just work of my fantasy. My friend at school, Lisa, says he isn’t and she knows who I’m talking about all the time (I’m definitely NOT talking about him all the time). I think Lisa may be the reason I have such a profi detective skills. Every other week, she has a crush on other boy. This week it’s Dylan, who, as I found out, is seventeen, plays football, has a cute dog named Potato and a pretty girlfriend. When I told Lisa all information I managed to investigate about Dylan, she said, she’s gonna find another crush but for now, she will stay with Dylan. She’s like this all the time. I don’t have any other friend despite Lisa. But she’s not my bestest friend forever. I love her, she’s fun and I feel comfortable with her. It just doesn’t feel like she is the one. I know it sounds ridiculous, I mean… it’s just a friend we’re talking about, not my future husband. Anyway, don’t tell Lisa, please. She always says I’m her best friend. Oh, she just texted me:
His name is Thomas and he plays guitar in that
band called Car Crushed which has a concert on
Mon at that pub near your house. Don’t thank me.
Actually… Thank me! L. xxx
Oh my God, how did she find out so much about him??? Gotta go see Lisa!