I don't know, but some days I swear any place other than here has to be way friendlier. I mean, New Yorkers find us from New Jersey rude, and while tons of people think of New Yorkers as stuck up snobs, that's saying a lot. At least the grocery checkers have to friendly. While I'm normally glared at for saying "Hello" there, I think there must be a least some part in the world where they smile back and hold a conversation with you. Or at least smile. Or at the very least don't look like they want to kill you. I keep hope in my heart that maybe, just maybe I'm not asking for too much. Could I also ask for better drivers? Ones that I don't think are so filled with Road-Rage that they won't kill me? Is that asking too much too? Guess so... Damn...

Maybe I couldn't take it to live in a place with friendly people. Once farther up north another guest at a hotel said "Good morning" to me and I was shocked for the rest of the day. Too much niceness and I think I just might have a heart attack. I'm starting to wonder whether it's really worth it.

But then again, I think I'm doomed to die from stress overload or a crazy driver anyway. Or maybe that insanely mean women in the supermarket. She looked like she could easily do the job. And heck, she looked like she'd enjoy it too.

Yeah, but more about the stress. I live in America, more specifically outside New York where everything was supposed to be done yesterday and everything is now, now, now. God, we stress about everything here. When we sit down to eat we stress over the fact that maybe we're eating to much, that maybe the food might be unhealthy, and then we eat more than we should to relieve the stress. And then we stress over the fact that we don't like what's in the mirror. Heck, I do that too. If I live long enough, I'm moving away to Australia to get away from here. Plus, I love the accent.

So yes, statistically, with all this going against me, I'm going to die. Probably sooner than some other people in countries where everything's going against me. Oh, and I almost forgot. Every time I go into a city or it's dark out and I'm alone, I must worry about being shot. Worrying and stressing myself out so much, this must be taking away from how long I'm supposed to live. And you know what? It sucks.

If you're going to listen to me rant, or even just talk about anything in general, you might like to know who I am. Call me Lisa. The full name's Elizabeth, but I got the nickname Lisa from my best friend awhile ago and the name stuck. I've got brown hair, brown eyes and I'm what my Grandma calls the typical American girl. I'm plain and boring, but I'd like to think I make up for it with my sparkling personality. Unfortunately, my personality's just about the same as my looks. At least that's what I think, even though other people think otherwise. My friends and mom think I'm too humble, but whatever. I live in the wonderful old state of New Jersey, though you probably already guessed that. It's supposed to be the Garden State, but everyone seems to call it the Toxic Waste state. I've yet to see a lot of toxic waste just lying around, but then again, I haven't seen too many farms either. Go figure.

I go to a good school, even though it looks like a prison inside. I get good grades, I guess, but I talk too much in some classes. Therefore, most of the teachers find me incredibly annoying. I guess I am, now that I think about it.

Want some random facts now? My favorite meal is ramen and diet green tea, I sing a lot, though not when others are around, and write a lot. I used to draw, but gave up. I'm not good at expressing myself that way. I'm not the best at expressing myself through writing either. There are too many things I'm afraid to say. I afraid of letting people know what goes through my mind sometimes. My friend describes her imagination as a playground for the demons. I wouldn't say that what goes on is that bad, but it isn't great. And when it's less dark, I sit around and think of plans on what I'll do if a wild killer enters my house. I can tell you that it isn't the best thing to ponder on when you're about to go to sleep.

And am I leaving anything out? Yeah, actually I am, because I'm afraid that if Jessica sees this, she's going to hurt me. Jess, she's the one who started calling me Lisa and we've been the best of friends forever. But why would she want to hurt me if we were such good friends? I like the guy that she's going after and she doesn't know yet. I should just sit there and let her get the guy, but I'm not gonna do that. Yeah... She's so going to kill me. On second thought, maybe that plan on what to do in case of a wild killer will come in handy.