Mom and Dad got into a noisy argument last night because Dad didn't want to "have macaroni and cheese for dinner on Valentine's Day." Mom said there was nothing wrong with mac and cheese, since we hardly ever have it anyway. So they stood in the kitchen and yelled and cried while Allison and I went to my room to make valentines and mock Dad. (They only yell at each other twice a year or so, so Allison and I don't really mind.) We started out mocking both of them, but after a while we realized there wasn't anything to mock Mom for. And Allison made a rather humorous paper snowflake shaped like Dad looking angry.

But in the end, Mom made pork chops with creamed spinach and roasted potatoes. And it was good, and we had candles and flowers on the table, and nobody yelled or pouted. And even though I forgot to put the potatoes in the oven when Mom told me to, we were only ten minutes late to Morris practice. And my cherry poison went over very well.

And, oh, my goodness - the diaries. I found a girl who's been writing journals for all the Lord of the Rings characters. I don't know when I've laughed so hard. It was so funny, and so very wrong. I mean, wronger than that Phantom of the Opera fanfic Bridget found years ago . . . possibly the wrongest thing I've ever read. Not wrong because they were all gay (except Arwen), but because they shouldn't be. They're sacred. But it was still really funny. Christine, only read it if you don't mind being shocked. But the rest of you should be okay, because Christine's the only person I know who's more innocent than I am.

I love the Olympics. Today in Russian class the teacher told us to be sure and watch the skating because afterwards you can usually hear them say something when they're getting their marks. "I know!" said Hannah, a very intelligent but very excitable girl. "I was watching it last night, but they weren't saying anything! He was just waving a teddy bear around. I kept saying, 'Speak Russian!' but he didn't." I love Russian class - it's so crazy.

I gave up chocolate for Lent. Catholicism doesn't seem so appealing as it did last fall, but I still like some parts of it. Like Lent. I use it as an exercise in discipline. I almost ate a chocolate cupcake yesterday, but then gave it to the girl who sits beside me in Russian. And I think I ate a chocolate chip bagel this morning, but it was the only only starch in the house. And I put peanut butter on it so I couldn't taste the chocolate. So technically I shouldn't have, but I don't care much. Mom and I were talking about Chocolat and I said she needed to see it, so she rented it and we're going to watch it tonight. So that's going to be interesting, seeing as the whole point of the movie is that you shouldn't give up chocolate for Lent. But it's a good movie, so I'll watch it anyway.

My little sister's just gone off on her first date. Her friends have been trying to set her up with this boy from school, and he's quite smitten with her, but she's terrified. She says he's really a nice kid and kind of cute, but she doesn't want to go out with him. When he asked her to see a movie, she didn't know what else to say but yes. And so they're going out tonight. She kept moaning about how dorky it was that his mom was coming to pick them up - but what else are you going to do when you're thirteen? Bicycle?

What's really funny is how Dad's reacting to this. He gave her a whole big speech about how she shouldn't feel pressured to do anything she doesn't want to, and how she shouldn't let Robert do anything she doesn't want him to do. The example he gave was the date I went on my freshman year with some boy I hardly knew. "Now, when he told her to give him her hand, she didn't have to do that. So if Robert wants to hold your hand, you don't have to do that." I have no idea why he's being so protective of her when he never said anything to me. The only reason I ended up holding hands with that guy (His name was something bizzare, and I could never remember it afterward) was because the phrase "give me your hand" made me think he was going to tell my fortune or something. But no, he just wanted to sit there in the dark, our fingers slowly growing more and more cramped, for two hours. It was one of the stupidest afternoons of my life. He rode my bus and was evidently just looking for somebody to go out with, and I guess I looked like a good candidate. I only went because I was too surprised to say anything but yes.

There are a million folk songs about women giving girls advice on courting - "Never trust in a sailor or believe what they say/ for first he will court you and then he will slight you/ he will leave you behind, love, in grief and in pain." "He'll hug you and kiss you/ And call you his own/ Perhaps his other darlin'/ Is a waiting at home." "An old man looks sourly, not daily but hourly! Girls, beware, never wed an old man." But if I ever made up a song like that, my best advice will be to never go on a date because you're too surprised to do anything else.

February 14
March 9