Self-Proclaimed Everything

March 8, 2016

Dear diary,

There is only one word to describe that party: no. It's not that there was anything wrong with it, it's just there was a lot wrong with it. For starters, there were a lot of loud countries in a house together. There was also alcohol.

So after everyone got drunk, they started playing poker and they made those of us who didn't feel like drinking sit at a really small plastic table labeled: the kids table, while they gambled away their belongings. I wasn't even involved and yet somehow America won my shirt... He doesn't even want it for anything but proof that he beat Prussia and Denmark. Not only did I lose my shirt, but they interrupted a really deep and meaningful conversation with Romano to tell me that I had lost it. They ruined my only chance to talk openly about my feelings with someone who felt equally compelled to hide his happiness, pain, love, and anything but their unchecked rage.

I'm kidding. We talked, but it was to complain about our families and our exes.

Anyway while I was making sure that Dipmark never gave away my belongings again (he argued that it wasn't 'giving away' my stuff and that he honestly didn't think he would lose it, but lets face it, America is the king of poker. The Dane never stood a chance.) Iceland got ahold of some beer and got dead drunk. After deciding to literally swing from the chandelier and breaking it and his face, he thought it would be a good idea to play Romeo and Juliet with Hong Kong, and they ran away, claiming I would never let them be together.

So that's it. It's 4:00 Am, and Icey and Hong Kong are gone. I've been looking for them all night. Sweden and Finland are helping, and Denmark is still at the party, trying to win my shirt back. He missed the memo that we were leaving. And that we took the only car. Have fun walking.