Summary: Trendy new haircut: 100 dollars. Gorgeous new wardrobe: 500 dollars. Sexy new psychiatrist: 1000 dollars. Having your ex waltz back into your life with a new girl on his arm? Priceless.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that when one part of your life starts going okay, another falls spectacularly to pieces.

- Bridget Jones's Diary

Entrée: Karin Style Egg Rolls

Sammy: Karin?

Me: Hmmm? (absorbed in book)

Sammy: If it could be anyone... who would you see yourself with for the rest of your life?

Me: (without looking away from pages) My mum.

Sammy: (glares)

Me: What?

Sammy: Rin, I'm being serious here! Give some thought to the question will you?

Me: (closes book, pushes glasses up and tilts head thoughtfully)

Sammy: (looks hopeful)

Me: My cat.

Sammy SFX: (exasperated sigh)

Sammy: You mean the non-existent one that lives in your non-existent attic and has four non-existent white socks?

Me: Ummm... yeah?


Me: Ow! (stands up) #fjsdk#!! The heck was that for?!

Café FX: (all stop and stare at the retarded girl who swears like a man)

This... is me. Unfortunately.

And you happen to be my diary. Also rather unlucky for you. I'm infamous for never treating my diaries kindly. Oh, you want to know about your cousin? You mean the nicely lined one with a fluffy pink cover and "Karin's Diary" written on the front page in swirly hearts-instead-of-dots lettering? The one I was so passionate about writing in every single day for two years until a couple of months ago? Well. Ahem. Let's just say she uh... passed on.

So, how in the world did I become like- like this- all about imaginary cats and whatnot? There are quite a few stories there. Now that I happen to think about it, there should be around two years' worth. Ha ha. You sooo saw that coming, but whatever. Rather than bore you to death with the not so glorious details of my past life, let me sum it up for you. See what a helpful girl I am. Yep, Karin is just like a bandaid- feel free to use me when you need and peel me away when you're done. No marks left on your skin, 100 percent guaranteed.

Anyway, let's get back to the topic at hand here. Story. Short version.

Girl meets boy. Boy is nice to girl. Girl gets crush on boy. Girl asks boy out and he says yes. They go out. Girl and boy become in love. Boy likes to travel. Boy makes promises. Boy goes on exchange for a year. Boy breaks promises. Girl kicks boy's face in. The end.

Okay, so the above recount isn't entirely true since the guy's face is still somewhat intact.

Fine, so I didn't manage to kick his face in. Excuse me for being too busy bawling my poor eyes out over that jerk and the unfairness of life in general yada yada, you get the drift. Right. And the fact I haven't actually gotten a chance to see him yet, what with him still overseas and all- lounging around blissfully in a hot spring in Osaka- kind of adds to the reason why I haven't managed to find out whether I can, in fact, have my foot connect with his face. Seeing as his head is elevated 1.8m off the ground, and I only measure 1.6m from head to tippy-toe, for me to "kick the guy's face in" poses a slightly difficult task. Wait- let's backtrack here- does Osaka even have hot springs?!

Karin does not jump topics. Karin does not stop in the middle of her chain of thought. Karin does not have a short attention span- Oh. My. God. Is this what the café calls a, I quote from the menu, "Japanese Style Eggroll"? It looks more like scrambled eggs gone runny. Yes, I can definitely do better- just get me one pan, two eggs and a pinch of salt and pepper. Give me five minutes and I'd be able to whip up something actually edible.

Moral of the story?

Don't trust Italians with Japanese food.


... ...



What was I talking about again?

Sammy: (looks flushed) Karin! Sit back down, you're so bloody embarrassing!

Me: Oh. Right. (sits)

Sammy: Remind me why I'm friends with you again?

Me: Because we've known each other since grade school and you think I'm the best thing on two legs to have happened to you and you're madly in love with me?

Sammy: (flat out) No. Do not pass GO. Do not collect 200 dollars. Try again.

Me: (pout) Because we've known each other since grade school and you think I'm the best thing on two legs to have happened to you and you're madly in love with me??

Sammy: (glares) No. I'm NOT going to play the stupid let's-repeat-the-same-thing-until-she-agrees-with-me game with you.

Me: (pout pout) Because we've kn-

Sammy: FINE! You win. Okay. Yes, you're absolutely right. I totally agree. Happy?

Me: (grin)

A/N: If you enjoyed this first chappie, please drop me a review to help the next chapter along its merry way! In return I'll try my hardest to shower you with cookies and tears of happiness. Okay, the cookie part we can negotiate. But I don't cry anymore, period. In case anyone was wondering, this "entrée" dish is partly based off my current life situation. Future chapters will also be very short- don't expect the long chappies I usually do- diary entries weren't meant to be ten pages lol.

I'll do my best with this story- and completing my other ones- so please bear with me through this somewhat difficult period. So I'm stubborn. So I don't like to admit it. Ack, fine, if you must know... (grimaces)... please continue to support me through this very, extremely, exceedingly difficult and mind bogglingly complicated period... (sweatdrop)... finally, she says it. To my lovely reviewers: thank you for always being my strength and motivation! I really, really appreciate it (smiles).