FAILURE BY DESIGN.

[prissy]

the . DIARY . of . PRISCILLA PRYCE

Watch you on the one's and two's.
Through a window in a well lit room.

Become a recluse.

And I blame myself because I make things hard
and you're just trying to help.

I'm another day late and one year older.
It's failure by design.

And we just want sleep.
But this night is hell.

This is a lesson in procrastination.

[/blockquote]

_{Lyrics © Brand New.}

[prissy]

^{page one}

THERE
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AND BACK AGAIN

^{mood: amused}

[/color]

And here we are once more, diary: you and I, in the common room, just like we have been for the past five years. Yes, you've guessed it. Today is the first day of school for me––I've just arrived after the Sorting Ceremony and am biding my time here on the sofa in front of the fireplace, hoping to escape the mad throng of oblivious first years as they search for their dormitories. It is easier said than done, let me tell you. Thankfully, it is later, now, and most of them have fallen asleep. But there are always stragglers. I've pegged them as pathetic weaklings, and have marked them as ones to stay away from. The ones with all the important families were intelligent enough to stay with the group, anyway.

Oh, bother. One of them is asking me to assist him. He looks so pathetic I must oblige.

That, and he's a Burke.

Perpetuo Primoris,

[prissy]

^{page two}

CRAZY
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LOVE

^{mood: scandalized}

[/color]

Amycus Carrow is an ass.

And yet, somehow, by the end of our conversation, I ended with an acceptance of his proposed date. How did I get to this point, you may wonder? I have no idea, diary, and no theory with which to satiate your curiosity. I know not by powers I was thus moved. All I can conclude is this:

he has be-witched me.

The ass.

Perpetuo Primoris,

[prissy]

^{page three}

SOMETHING THERE
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THAT WASN'T THERE BEFORE

^{mood: horrified&confused}

[/color]

Something is not right with the world, diary. Why, you ask? Well. It's simple. Somehow, through the machinations of my grandmother and the innerworkings of my own psyche, I have convinced myself to try out for the Slytherin cheerleading squad. And, do you know what is worse than just trying out for the squad? Actually making it. So, yes, diary, you're looking at the newest addition of Slytherin's cheerleading squad. Me. A cheerleader. Hah! I do not know what has driven me to this, really, I don't. I suppose it might have something to do with that little bitch witch Alice Logan, who took it upon herself to get nominated for Commentator in my stead. Well. Whatever. That is all I have to say on the matter. What's done is done and I'm sure my grandmother will be extremely thrilled to know the result of my audition. My mother that woman, too, should be moderately pleased. Something about how she was a cheerleader back in the day.

Now I just feel disgusted. Ugh.

At least, the silver lining is that I get to wear sweatpants and long sleeved shirts. I told them that my medical condition made my marrow hypersensitive to the breeze, so I had to wear layers.

Turns out either I'm an excellent liar or they're totally stupid. I guess we'll find out, won't we?

Perpetuo Primoris,