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By AnonymTamara Summers
I guess it could be worse. My name could be Tlaquepaque, or Irkutsk, or Pyongyang. Or, you know, Pittsburgh. Sometimes I flip through the atlas just to remind myself of all the names that would be worse than mine.
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By AnonymTamara Summers
I haven’t entirely adjusted to the whole yum, blood, yum aspect of being a vampire. My body wants it, but my head is still like, Ew, that is BLOOD, time to faint.
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By AnonymTamara Summers
Sure, I had been accused of murder by my family and was wrapped up in a bizarre investigation, but there were such cute boys involved. Hey, I try to look on the bright side.
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By AnonymTamara Summers
You have to understand, the blood we drink every day to stay alive comes out of a jar in the refrigerator. It is the very definition of gross.
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