Josephina
My dearest diary,
My brother was at it again today. I swear, he must be adopted because there is no way that I am related to Aaron, pest extraordinaire. I suppose it was partly my fault; I forgot to lock my door before I turned on my music. If I had remembered to lock it, he wouldn't have come in on me practicing my ballet routine. The rest of the day Aaron went around, calling me "Josephina, ballerina." And it was just my luck that my parents heard. I am in sooo much trouble now. I had sworn that I had quit--they don't approve of dance. I can't tell you how many times I've heard my father say, "Dance is a waste of time. Dancers are leeches on society. Find yourself a man and settle down. Make a productive life for yourself." They were so proud when I told them I stopped taking dance lessons and started working at the local daycare center. What they didn't realize was the owner of the daycare was giving me lesson instead of bonuses. Since I was living at home, I didn't need the extra money. Not anymore, though. They kicked me out faster than I could say, "Swan Lake". I should be okay for awhile; I have a few paintings I can sell. They should fetch a couple hundred for me. At least my parents saw painting as a useful pastime, they encouraged it even. It would just burn them to know I was using my paintings to fund my "dangerously lazy lifestyle". Speaking of which, I have an audition today for the Nutcracker. I'm trying out for the Sugar Plum Fairy in an hour. Oh my. It's coming up fast. I have to get ready.
Wish me luck,
Josephina Martinez
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