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November 14th, 1860. China has had to deal with too much of England and France ever since the first Opium War. Silly China! In a war with drugs, drugs always win! Anyways, today I invited myself over to China’s house. He took too long to show up, so I started to eat without him. Fifteen minutes after I started to eat, I heard him approaching. He seemed kind of groggy and down in the dumps when he entered, but I knew he would be happy to see me. I’ll never forget his first words to me: “Who are you?! Go away now!”
February 7th, 1924. Recently my boss and Italy’s boss, both autocrats, narcissists, and fabulous dancers, have gotten very close. I guess this means I can finally become friends with the Italy brothers, too. I approached them today and told them, “I was thinking we should start hanging out.” They agreed, but they were sweating quite a lot. That reminded me of something, so I asked them, “Your house is warm and you have good food, right? You don’t mind if I visit?” Then my little sister, Belarus, appeared behind me and glared daggers at the brothers until I was flustered enough to leave. I suppose things could have gone better...
August 24th, 1991. Today my older sister, Ukraine, came to me and said, “Bye! It’s been nice knowing you, brother, but at this rate, we’ll never see each other again! My boss has forbidden me from speaking to you anymore!” And she ran away, crying. Her colossal knockers slapped together as she ran, imitating the sounds of a drum. She turned around and left my house for good, just like that. Right now, she’s trying to make new friends in the European Union, but I do not think it is working. She just stands outside and cries and begs. She says things like, “Please, I have to find a friend! Won’t someone be friends with me? I’m all alone in the cold and lonely world. I’m not ready to fend for myself...I’m scared...and lacking natural defensive borders and high-speed Internet…” I’m going to tell her to stop acting like that, but I don’t know if she’ll listen. She’s freaking me out, so I hope she does.
April 2nd, 1996. I don’t know what happened, but now I am living with Bela again. She broke into my house earlier today (seventeenth break-in in two months), and chased me around. I locked myself in my bedroom, but she pounded at the door for an hour. She called out to me: “Big brother...big brother! Come on, let’s become one! You know you want to! Why do you have to be such a jerk all the time?!” When I didn’t answer, she started to claw at the wood. (Note to self: get new door for room.) She stayed determined and kept calling to me: “Open this damn door right this instant! You and I are going to get together whether you like it or not, open up, brother, let me iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin…” By that point, I was scared enough to shout at her to go away. She broke the doorknob off of the door. She threw it at me when she could enter the room. (Another note to self: get better doorknobs for new doors.) She stood in the hallway, blocking the door, and chanted, “Marry me, marry me, marry me…” I think I fainted after I cried like little babies do.
Poor Russia sighed as he closed his diary, which didn’t have too many entries. He was sad for a few moments...after all, all of his good friends and lovely sisters had grown so distant...but as an idea occurred to him, he perked up. “My boss has been becoming good friends with America’s boss lately. Maybe it’s time for me to bury the hatchet and become friends with America!” He began to make preparations...beginning with burying his favorite hatchet in the garden.