One.

I'm sitting in probably the hardest chair in the entire library. Yes, I'm in a library. Not because I need books. I have lots of them. Notice how I said 'lots' instead of 'plenty'. You can never have enough books, in my opinion. And although I will be checking out two dusty, spineless books before I leave to devour them at home, that's not why I'm here. I'm here because for the past 3 months, I've had no internet service. If you knew me well, you'd wonder why I'm not dead yet.
It's highly unlikely that you do know me well, but perhaps if you subscribe to this blog and buzz over my ramblings once a week, you'll come to think that you understand my nature. I ask that you do not do this. Read, but do not judge or pretend you know me. Read, and offer your honest opinion. I hope you'll be as amused by my misfortunes and everyday adventures as I am.
My name is Chelsea, but you probably already guessed that. I'm a teenager that looks and acts twice her age in most company. My parents are mentally insane. But aren't they all?
I'm not here to steriotype or "tell you my story". I'm not special, but I'm not the ordinary "girl next door" either. I honestly don't know why I'm here. I suppose I'm bored of pouring my thoughts into a paperback diary that no one cares to read. I suppose I want to be heard for once.
My Dad makes sure he is heard. Every word he says is a commandment to be heeded even when he contradicts himself. Yet, I'm quiet always. What most people don't seem to understand is that just because one doesn't speak often or loudly, it doesn't mean they have nothing to say. It means that they spend too much time in their own head. I wouldn't say that's a bad thing, though it does make for a bad conversationalist at times.
But me? You'll find that I can be a great conversationalist if you'll only put your hand out and introduce yourself. How do you do? I'm Chelsea x.