733 Mammoth Road

I would have posted this a week ago.
But I couldn't.
Because we moved.
But now I have internet.
And I guess that's cool.
This house is fucking gigantic.
I've lived in second story apartments since the 3rd grade. Now I live in a two story house, with a finished basement. So basically, we have the stuff and furniture for an apartment in a full house. So it's not that bad, I guess. Could be better. Could be worse.
I amm wearing a dinosaur hat.
So moving.
I have to take the bus now. That's not fun. This girl I liked in 4th grade is on the bus. "Dated", if you care to use that word at the age of 10. And according to a certain informant of mine she's a "major druggie" now. I wouldn't know, we haven't really talked. A few awkward glances and waves. I explained why I had a pikachu to her.
But that's not what I'm talking about here.
Here,
I'm complaining about moving.
But I can't really complain that much.
It's not that bad once the moving is over.
But the worst part, and only real part I can complain about is the fact that nothing really changed.Every other time I've moved it was to a new school, so there was the excitement and fear of making new friends, and all that good stuff. I sat down in Geometry class Monday and thought to myself
"And nothing changes"
So maybe I was right.