Okay, first of all, let me get something straight. This is a journal, not a diary.

Yeah, I know what it says on the cover, but when my mom went out to buy this thing I specifically told her not to buy one that said "diary" on it. This just proves Mom doesn't understand anything about kidz my age.

The only reason I agreed to write in this thing is because when I'm rich and famous I'll have better thingz to do than answer people's stupid questionz all day long.

Mom got me this thing so I could write down my feelingz about starting middle school, but I'm gonna be fine. It's my best friend Rowley Jefferson I'm worried about. He's definitely not middle school ready; he's not quite clear on the concept of growing up.

But anywayz, this is about me, not Rowley.

comradez!