Hello, readers! (However few of you there are... five? Six, maybe?) Welcome to my very first PnF fan fiction story! I'm not really a new author on this site, but I'm new to this particular forum.

First off, I'd like to thank you for being nice enough to click on my story. I know this may seem like any boring old overdone "dear diary" submission, but it's not, I promise! You're in for a combination of humor, randomness, breaking of the fourth wall, and a sprinkle of romance as well. ;) Believe or not, this story WILL have a plot line. Shocking, right? I know!

**All characters are around fifteen years old, except for Candace, Stacy, and Jeremy who're about twenty.

I hope you guys like my little story. :)

WARNING: This first chapter is extremely random, but chapters following it will (hopefully) make more sense!

DISCLAIMER: I AM NOT FORTUNATE ENOUGH TO OWN PHINEAS AND FERB OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS (That is why my life is as boring as it is.) That privilege belongs to Dan Povenmire and Jeff "Swampy" Marsh. And Disney.

Reviews are super appreciated, but please be civil. Thank you!

-Blythe

January 14th

Phineas:

A woman who lived down the street told me one time that she had a wart in her armpit.

Did I know this woman? No. She said she was from Alaska, but Mom didn't believe her - she was really tan and knew too much about bird watching, apparently. Candace didn't like her because she fed squirrels. She was really a nice lady in actuality, just a little on the strange side.

When I was younger, I heard that she'd gotten arrested for attempting to steal baking soda from a gas station. Before that happened, we'd go over to her house and drink really sweet ice tea on saturdays while her and Mom chatted. Can a person even get arrested for stealing baking soda? Also, why would a person even steal baking soda anyway? What could be so important that a person would need to shoplift a box of Arm and Hammer baking soda? So many questions... All I can say is that she was at one point wearing handcuffs - she had bruises from them on both of her wrists. Perhaps I was too young to remember the story and my mind is making things up. I don't remember much about the lady, but I remember that wart under her armpit (unfortunately)...

Speaking of warts, I once knew this girl when I was about seven years old who had a wart on the back of her left shoulder that she named Phillip. She said Phillip bled sometimes when her skin got really dry. I thought this was funny and laughed, but I don't think she was joking when she told me this; she looked at me all serious and made me feel bad by saying all the freckles on my skin will turn into ugly bumps. I didn't speak to her much after that. I also don't recall ever having freckles in my life...

Wait, wait, wait. I'm sorry, I should've started off explaining why I'm writing all of this!

I got a new journal for my birthday and I didn't want to disappoint Dad by not writing in it. I've actually been given several journals in my life, but this one has my name printed in golden cursive on the front and I think Dad put a lot of time and thought into giving it to me so I'd like to use it. If there were no lines and the pages were wider, I'd be using this for blueprint drafting. Oh well. I suppose nothing's wrong with a little journalling every now and then, huh? I heard it can be very therapeutic for stress; Ferb journals all the time. It's probably why he's always so calm.

Back to journalling...

Right now, my classmates and I are just taking a short break from reading a play by Arthur Miller while my teacher makes copies of ACT II at the Xerox machine. During the time he's been gone, we've discussing unimportant things like whether or not a tree makes sound when it lands in the forest while no one is around to hear it and Buford's new braces. Also, it appears that the girl sitting diagonal from me is joking with her friend about swapping children when they grow up. I don't know how this came about and it's none of my business, but they're being pretty loud about it. What a strange thing to overhear. By the way they're talking about it, it sounds like they're actually considering it. I don't know if I'll ever understand girls.

Now I'm trying to find something helpful to do. All my homework's done, but for some reason, I can't seem to focus on anything. I think I'm just going to journal about whatever passes through my mind.

Isabella's wearing navy blue today... She doesn't wear bows anymore. She's graduated to ribbons and ponytails every day, but she told me nothing's really changed. Her hair has gotten really long! She keeps saying she's going to cut it really short, but I hope she doesn't. I like her with long hair.

Well - I don't like her...

No, wait... I DO like her... just not like you think. Hold on, that came out wrong; what I mean to say is that I'm not pursuing her. Whoa! No, no, no that sounds possessive! I'm not a possessive person and I wouldn't be possessing her even if I was! Not to say that she's not desirable, because she definitely is! It's just that she...

What am I even talking about?

I'm erasing this. Wait, I can't. Permanent ink. I'll just scribble it out.

My shoes have a hole in them and I've been prodding at the soles for the past fifteen minutes. Don't you hate it when you find a problem with just one part of your clothes, yet you just can't seem to stop poking at it? I HATE that. It's almost as bad as when you find a loose string from fabric in your shirt and can't help but pull on the thread and unravel the stitching bit by bit. Even when you've nearly undone the entire thing, the problem doesn't go away. It is that it's always going to bother you. It's going to be sitting like empty mass in the back of your head, nagging you until you have no choice but to take that article of clothing off. Usually I don't have pet peeves, but this is something that really annoys me. I wonder if I could build something that would rid the world of this problem...

On top of this mundane annoyance, my stomach is making unusual noises. Sometimes when I'm hungry, I think of starfish. Weird, right? I wonder how they eat. Do they just, like...soak up their food? They don't really have mouths, so how does that even happen? I read somewhere that they vomit up their stomach to absorb nutrients surrounding them. Can you imagine if humans did that every mealtime? Gross.

Did you know you can own your very own pet starfish? Yeah, it's a thing, actually. You can own your very own Chocolate Chip Starfish, but the downside is that you can't put any other fish in that tank or it'll eat them. You also have to make sure its tank stays at a certain temperature or it'll whither away, true story. Very complicated creatures.

I'm failing miserably at this journalling thing. Let's talk about something else.

Hmm...I feel like building a house. I was reading about the tutor houses in the late english renaissance. Wouldn't it be interesting to build one of those? It seems relatively easy. It was in the early days of modernized architecture, so the structured foundations of each house depended solely on what the building would be used for. In most cases, the more solid villas were built as townhouses and community usage, therefore the constructed foundations were more complicated than the usual housing facility. I read that in a science magazine that was centered around the evolution of machinery.

If Ferb and I decided to build a tutor house, I wonder what we'd be doing in it? We might use it as a community house or a barn for a day or so. However, I don't want to build the tutor house without modern day machinery. When the gang and I built that small town in the backyard with primitive tools a few summers ago, it was terrible. It took forever to get rid of that termite problem.

Gosh, I love engineering. If I wasn't so young, I swear I'd be a professional engineer. (But hey, that's never stopped me before!)

I do not understand why girls wear leggings. They look downright uncomfortable. Isabella looks good in them, though. She's wearing them today, actually. Uh... Not that I was looking. I wasn't looking. I mean, I looked, but not for the reason you think. ...nevermind.

Darn. Now I wish I hadn't written that in pen...

There is a mysterious stain on my left shoe. I'm pretty sure it's old gum, but it's making me a little nervous. Last time I had a mysterious stain it was on the cuff of my jeans and it looked like a wad of gray gum I got from walking around the city. I must've been stepping on the bottom of my pants or something. Nevertheless, I had to cut off the bottom of one side in order to rid myself of the gum. Boy, was that gross!

I just noticed: my entire class is super good-looking. Good for them. I like looking at handsome people.

If I sharpened my fingernails, would it makes me feel like I have cat claws? Imagine if I did that and went on a job interview. I don't think I'd get hired anywhere - especially places for small children. Do you think maybe catwoman sharpens her nails to look more cat-like? It'd make so much sense if she did, not that I'd want to be her... If anything, I think it'd be cooler to be Batman. That reminds me: I really ought to see The Dark Knight Rises. I heard it was good and I've recently developed an affinity for action and thriller movies.

I think the kid in front of me cut his hair again. He wears flannel a lot. He also smells like pears every day. Every time I yawn, it's as if I'm swallowing his cologne. It's kind of intoxicating and I don't know if that's a good thing.

How old is my teacher? I honestly have no idea - he's like one of those people who just never ages. Sean Connery is one of those people - the kind that never ages, I mean. Back in 1989, he was in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (the third movie in the Indiana Jones series) playing a supporting role of someone who was about sixty years old, yet thirty-four years later, he looks exactly the same! What is this tomfoolery?! Is Mr. Banar going to be like this?! Enigmas like these make my head hurt, but are actually interesting to imagine. I hope I age well.

Anyway, I seemed to have filled this entire page with ramblings. I miss summer when, instead of writing in a journal, I could put everything I'm thinking about into some kind of project. I suppose this could be a different type of project if I put a little enthusiasm into it, right? Maybe I could set a goal for myself and try to fill out the entire notebook! Yeah, that's it! I've never actually filled out an entire notebook before!

First, I think I'd better write something on the front to make sure no one reads this.

"DON'T READ THIS JOURNAL."

There. That should do it. Wait... that sounds a little rude...

"(Please) DON'T READ THIS JOURNAL"

That's better.

Alright, Journal, prepare to be filled! I know what I'm gonna do with you!

Hey, where's Perry? ... oh, right... I'm at school...

Thanks for reading, ladies and gents! What do you guys think?

I will be responding to reader reviews, so hopefully you guys can give me suggestions on what I should write on in my updates!

Speaking of updates, I hope to write up chapter two by Tuesday night. Next, I'm writing for Isabella! :D (One of my favorites. Seriously, I love Izzy)

Stay tuned!

-Blythe