A/N: Hey, everyone! It's me again. I am so sorry for not updating my Madeleine/Garrison story, but I just grew frustrated with it. I hated how I wrote it, and I plan to maybe rewrite it someday. For now, enjoy this story about Miss Lulu Punchalower.

Lots of love,

Isadora Rosalie Quagmire

Entry #1: Happy Birthday, Lucy!

Dear Diary,

Mother and Father got me this diary for my birthday. Who on this earth gives their daughter a diary for her birthday? Anyways, they're forcing me to write in this book to express my "feelings" and "emotions" and to get my "anger issues" out. I honestly don't get why they think I have anger issues. I have a perfect temper! Why just yesterday I only yelled at my brother fifty-two times. Trust me, I counted.

As you may have noticed, today is my birthday. Oh, joy. It's just another day when I turn older. The happiest part is, I'm closer to dying than the year before. Why do we even celebrate our day of birth? If I were my mother, I would definitely not want to remember giving birth. Scratch that. She already doesn't want to remember that day.

Okay, so I got presents from all my best buds, and let's just say I thought they were all pretty awesome.

Maddie: A set of black and midnight blue nail polish

Garrison: A black shirt that says 'Watch out! I'm an angry bomb on the verge of exploding'

Theo: A pink scarf

You know what? I change my mind. Maddie's and Garrison's gifts were cool. Theo, on the other hand, was being a total nincompoop for getting me a scarf. It's bad enough that it's summer right now, but is also had to be pink?

Want to see my thank you cards I sent back to them?

Dear Maddie,

Thanks for the set of nail polish! Surprisingly, those are actual colors I like. Hope to see you sometime soon!

Dear Garrison,

You know what I think? I think you're suggesting that I have anger issues. Well, for your information, I DON'T! Anyways, thanks for the gift. It actually amused me.

Dear Theo,

Oh, you so do not want to know what is on my mind about you right now.

See? Aren't friends great? Well, don't ask me about friends because I don't have that much experience with them. Now if you'll excuse me, I must go throw the rock my brother gave me as a present at him.

Yours truly,

Lulu P.