March 29, 2011

Today something major happened. And by major I mean tiny, insignificant, a thing you don't even remember when you run into the main character in the forgotten scenario at the hardware store. That's how major.

So lets back up. Yesterday I made a list of some renewable resources and information about each one in a word document for the new city project in science that I'm doing with Kenzie and Ginger. I told Kenzie, and she gave me crap about it being a waste of time and because lists are sorta my life, it offended me. I played it cool, until I got to school and told Ginger and another girl, Mousy. They both agreed with me. All knocked out on my pride high I told my Geo teacher, and jokingly told her to yell at Kenzie when she came in next hour. That teacher loves me and I don't doubt that she went all 'sister, child' on her, but I also don't think Kenzie took it seriously. But in present time science she tells me and Ginger she's bailing.
Which leads me to a theory. My awesomeness was too strong for the young grasshopper.

I do this thing where when I want to feel sad, I usually do this when I know I'm bummed about something unimportant, I can conjure up a whole circumstance and problem and make myself cry. And I forget my original, probably stupid and petty reason for feeling bad. I do a similar thing when I'm feeling disappointed, because I'll be honest, I kinda was after Kenzie ditched, it's like being dumped over text. Ginger told me, and I had to believe it when she told me that Kenzie had said we just weren't looking for the same things out of life and it was her not me. What I do is try to pick out things about the situation that are good, and things about the person that are bad. In writing this does not sound similar at all to my previous method of reaching happiness, or more so normality.

And in the latter method I discovered that Kenzie is really boring. Straight up dull. She doesn't do anything outside of school, no dance lessons or sports, except cheer which has ended. She doesn't have a constant friend that she always talks about, like I do with Issy. Her grades are good, but she isn't the class smarty (called it!) and her family is traditional, her favorites stereotypical and her hobbies nonexistent. To me she looks like the kinda pf person a serial killer would take the identity of because of the easiness. But that's just how my mind sees it.

But I don't want to go into that because I'm fairly sure this is how most school shootings start off.

My day, other than being dumped for the first time, went well. I made a crap poster in NJHS about the spring carnival and although it started off all right it turned into all the other crummy teacher color paper posters that are ripped off the walls. Actually today I saw not one, but two posters hanging upside down, fully taped upside down. And unless there's some kindred spirit student, full of ironic poster hanging pranks, I see this as yet another sign of how much stupider humanity is getting.

I hope you had a better day than I did! And  a happy New Years too!

March 27, 2011

Long time, no bloggity.
I think I've lost my mojo. What mojo do you speak of?
I wish something glamorous and crazy had happened, but no, the Ellen shows just gonna have to wait.

There's this poster in my world Geo room that says,'Smiling means the same thing in every language.' And then it has a gorilla smiling on it, which I guess is beside the point, despite how well it explains my teacher. If there's one thing I hate, it's motivational posters. With birds flying in a perfect V, and cute kittens saying 'Arr matey!' and different colors of hands shaking. Do I have a reason? Sure. Do I need a reason? No, I hate them.
But the point is, the poster is a lie. (Just like all the others, 'Yes it will matter how I wore my hair!) A smile in one country means happiness, or that you're around someone and your supposed to look happy. In other places, for all we know, it could simply be threatening, like baring your teeth! We have no idea because we're to busy writing motivational statements and photo-shopping smiles onto gorillas.

You know what? That wasn't even my point. My real, real point was that even the simplest things can be interpreted different ways. A high five to you? An excited,'Way to go!' To me? An excuse to make physical contact....

 You'll thank me later-

Your welcome = I didn't want to, but I did because I'm trying on good person for a try, and I got angry that I ended up doing it, so I had to have the last word.

Your cute = I want to pinch your cheeks and at the same time add ie to the end of anything I call you

You look pretty today = You didn't look that great yesterday.

I missed you over the weekend = Please tell me you didn't do anything worthwhile or fun, because I ate 2 pints too many of rocky road and I need some back up.

I love your shoes = Couldn't think of anything else to compliment.

You kinda look like a drag queen = You kinda look like a drag queen

 On Thursday me and Bernie were walking down the hall and she complained about how when she walked she felt way too jiggly (I always feel so jiggly, it sucks! = Look at my breasts right now, look they're bigger then yours!) and I mentioned that whenever I walked my hair always bounced unnaturally, making me look a lot like Cassie, the head cheerleader. Which lead my English teacher to compare me to a pigeon. And later she told her entire 2nd period, not my class, that if they saw me they should ask me what I know about pigeons. All that day and then the next people have been coming up to me in the halls, in the library, everywhere! Popular people....nerds...my friends.

Ms.Heels signed all of chamber of secrets up for some fundraiser called Tea With Belle that's happening before one of the showings of Beauty and the Beast. I guess there's going to be desserts, tea, etiquette lessons, and other stuff, and all while in a dress, skirt or costume. Unfortunately she asked us after the programs were printed, so I have no choice but to look forward to it.

I babysat this weekend, from 3:30 to 11, my 7 year old next door neighbor. She's gotten a lot better about being annoying and bratty, and a little bit like a mini Specs. But she got over it, and I suppose there will forever be only one Specs. Which I think deserves a celebration.

This morning I woke up feeling like scorpions were crawling all over me and as though I had only been asleep 5 minutes. I guess that's what you get for spending your weekend at the Jersey Shore. I'll know for next time.

I hope you have a pigeon free day, and remember in middle school resistance is futile. Do you see a t-shirt out of that?

March 23, 2011

Today my grandma explained to me that to get angry you needed a lot of energy, and I was far to lazy to get angry.

So I guess we all understand now.

So as you may have noticed, what with the fact that I have a blog (that isn't at all like Gossip Girl) that I'm flying under the middle school radar. So when someone openly dislikes me, and they aren't someone I have purposely teased, things get a little off balance. Like when Red hated me, but I think that's resolved.
Anyway my new enemy, or correctly nemesis, is no loser ginger, take some offense ginger people. She's the cheer captain. The wholly unfairly charming and pretty, white, hand crafted, suburbia personified, blond haired (I mean no harm, blonds) frakin' cheer captain! Cassie.....

I'm fairly sure she unfriended me on the Facebook. If I cursed I would say that something just hit the fan. But I don't, so you know, things just got worse. Is what I'm saying. Now by her name, which took me half an hour of time I had to waste to find, says underneath it 84 mutual friends.

Her best friend just happens to be headlining today too. And this is just as out of the ordinary. Most of the cheerleaders are in advanced dance (3rd hour) and apparently while in the dressing room they talk. I've never been watching them or anything so I wouldn't know, because obviously I'm not creepy or anything. And somehow the annual student survey comes up, in which you can leave your own personal comment on your school at the bottom.
I put -Our school gets alright once you learn to deal with its quirks.
One year Bernie wrote a novel on the dress code and then went in and thesaurused every word to make herself sound smart and ended up sounding like a child trying to sound smart. School=academy. Heart= myogenic muscular organ

And, I guess, this girl, Chelsae, said that in her comment she complained about the fact that all the zoned kids were Mexicans, and they were all really rude and like super annoying and the school should be, totally, magnet. I'm paraphrasing here. (I wonder if she knows what that means.)


So Issy, the same girl who beat up German, the most popular boy in school when he shoved me into the lockers, basically had a BF. If you know what I mean. She went crazy, and Issy isn't Mexican, she wasn't personally attacked, she just isn't, well, Chelsae. She ranted for about the rest of the time in the locker room, which by now was completely silent and watched Chelsae's bird face screw itself up and rush out the door.


Chelsea later ran into me and said, loudly and cheerfully, 'Hey O!' I told Issy that I didn't think she knew my name, she told me Cassie probably talks about me a lot.

But the moral isn't that white chicks be crazy, and racist, as easy as that is to jump to, and true. Because just like the girl from UCLA, we can point our finger at an individual, but come on. Chelsea is just another product of our society. Just because I was raised with family meals and she was raised with a convertible waiting in the garage for her doesn't mean she's all bad. What I'm saying is that girls like her are as middle school, and sadly American, as crying yourself to sleep and apple pie.

I mean how funny is it that she tried to say hi to me after the fact thinking that I'd report that she was all good to Issy?

I guess I'll go wallow in one less friend, out of my 7, excuse me, 6, and hold back the tears. But whats new?

I hope you had a less cold, drama filled day than I did. Because I called dibs!

March 21, 2011

Just got back from the pre festival concert. According to Facebook it was terrible, which only slightly bummed me out considering the size of the house. It wasn't like anyone was there to see us.

In health with a capital H we rolled paper cigarettes today and held them in our mouth or hand all hour. It was seriously scary how real some of them looked. Like, now I know what you do with your weekend.

Issy had braces this morning and Kenzie couldn't stop talking about how bad she felt for her. Like, girl, as if. We all know that secretly those who already have braces are thrilled when a new one joins their cult. Like when girls see a girl with really short, Emma Watson style, hair and think to themselves, one less girl to compete with. I'm not saying it's right. I'm just saying its true.

See, we all have little things that we slyly think and believe that influence our decisions.
That's middle school.
Mine?

1. When people say 'no homo,' Yeah I did go there, and I am not taking that back.
2.  No offense. Unless you are going to say,'No offense, you're so pretty,' shut your mouth. Specs...
3. People with one piercing who aren't gay or pirates. Am I right?
4. Guys with perfect finger nails.
5. People (I almost deleted that and said girls, but let's be honest) that make little deformed hearts with their hands.
6. People who add terms of endearment to make you feel stupid, 'No, honey, it's actually -32.'
7. Not having a picture of Ellen in your wallet. Automatic turn off.
8. People who wear headbands across their foreheads. Am I the only one that thinks this is wrong?
9. Jonas Brothers. Need I say more?
10. Clip in flowers. I think this was like an acquired hatred after starting to associate them with people like Specs.

Today Tina, the violist I sometimes talk too had her 14th birthday. She was carrying around a cupcake in a little case, but other than that you couldn't tell.  Me, her and Tim were all sitting next to each other and she asked him for a piece of gum. He wouldn't give it to her. So she left, pouted and cried! I mean, I know it's your birthday, but child please, you can cry, but not over that.

And I never got the cupcake she was going to drop off....

When I got to my geography teachers room for NJHS, no one else was there. I asked her why, and she told me that they had all said they would be coming. So no meeting, what with the forum being alone. And when she asked me and the couple of other kids (who were working on late work) if we were hungry, I didn't get any, because it was chicken and mashed potatoes.

So I did nothing for 2 and a half hours. But then again, what would I have done otherwise?

In that 2 and half hours I did some deep soul searching and realized that even if the cheer captain hates me, I'll be okay. Oh? I didn't mention that? Yes...she hates me. Thinks I'm stuck up (probably,) a teachers pet (I'm not the one giving out gifts at St.Patrick's Day,) and that I act like I'm smarter than all my teachers (some things aren't acting...)

And while that did hurt, it wasn't nearly the same as being hated by my math teacher, who after finding out I don't know my 8's, yelled at me and told me to come back when I figured it out. It was like when they tell you they're disappointed in you. It's a burn.

I hope you all had a good first half of the week. Because it's hump day! I just like saying that...

March 16, 2011

Greetings and salutations my lovely Croc wearers.

I came to a realization today, while home alone and walking around naked, that despite all out efforts, we aren't gonna be just exactly like our idols. It's sad, but true. I have a few idols, some are fictional, some are real. Well, actually only two that are real, that aren't my mom, and they're both in high school. In fact, they're kind of opposite each other. One is so nice, almost too nice, and she's pretty and put together and polite. And I want to have that charm, it'll help me with the ladies. And the other is a dancer, with sloppy hair and rebellious attitudes and impulsive actions. Also, help with the ladies.

My others consist of the character -Blair Waldorf, whose dream job is simply to be a powerful women.
The actress-Blake Lively, because, well just Google it. Wink Wink Nudge Nudge

And that's just a few. But they're all so different, and I try so hard to be like them all. It's rather pathetic when thought about for long enough, like light beer and cat caption pictures.

Take my weekend, I was at this outdoor mall with Kenzie (surprise!) and we went in to a few stores, and as I shop I always ask myself if one or more of my idols would approve. In some ways this protects me and the public from a Lady Gagaesque malfunction. But in other ways, I have no idea what kind of clothes I like to wear. I like t shirts, sure, and I always check the jeans 'n ts box in personality quizzes, but who doesn't? Does anyone check the mini skirt and fish nets box?

Anyway, my point is. Because yes, Mom, I have one. (It's not revealing, it's individuality!) Is that no matter how hard we try we aren't gonna be replicas of our idols. And, think about it, it wouldn't be that great anyway. That way, we couldn't be idols ourselves.
God, I'm good.

So here's my tip. Get an idol, a wholesome one, with morals and values. Like me. Oh, Charlie and Brittany, how you will lead me to greatness. And follow their examples, not their lives. Because, from my limited experience, looking through the binoculars isn't that great. And getting screamed at by Miley Cyrus in the middle of the night with sirens steadily approaching isn't that great either.

As I stealthily mentioned I did spend my Saturday afternoon with Kenzie, with the lights out and only the bad soundtrack of Beastly to be heard. Does Vanessa Ann Hudgens voice provoke cramps for anyone else? And then window shopping. Life's good. I think she's gonna invite me over next weekend. And I swear this whole friendship is a parade of awkwardly inserted hugs, sarcastic comments, and carefully chosen outfits. But whose isn't?

I feel like I kinda abandoned you this past week. And I'd love to tell you I was busy, but I like to be as honest as possible while on the Internet, no Google image My Space pics for this girl. Id love to tell you I had tests, or a thriving social life. Or that Ellen called one night and sent a private jet to my street with Jane Lynch inside waiting to take me to Fiji for a special broadcast of Ellen's show which would feature...sorry that was unexpected. But I can tell you none of this. Basically I've been lazier than usual.
That sounded just as sad in my head as it does in writing.

So I'll leave you with two things. And you can pray that I come back or, because I swear by being honest online, that I don't.
1- Cat Caption Pictures? No.
Lemur Caption Photos? Boss (Sorry, I can't say it out loud with out people beating me up, so here all I get is cyber punches)
http://funnyjunk.com/funny_pictures/263066/Chill+Lemur/

2- Why is there a late night with Jimmy Kimmel and Jimmy Fallon? Do you know who your viewers are? I'm a freaking genius and I'm confused. 

My best wishes, and I hope you don't get hit with any radioactive rain!
Who am I kidding? We need more Hulks and Supermen.

March 14, 2011

Pi day!

The first day back to school after a short weekend is kinda like being given roofies and then punched every 50 minutes.

My mom made a pie, for pi day, and I thought it was for work or something. Nope, she just made a pie for us, to celebrate a math holiday. And now you understand so much. And for some reason Katlyn thinks that makes her the coolest mom ever. 

No. I will not stand for such an accusation.
So here goes nothing, or a lot of something. You decide! Sorry that was cheesy.

Things my mom says that drive me crazy.
1. 'You use to...' 'Where did my little girl who...'
2. 'Knock it out.' Is this some saying hybrid I was unaware could be used in public?
3. 'Our dog is off his nut.'
4. 'I'm not bi-polar, I'm bi-winning!' Wait what?
5. 'You got a date for semi formal? You gonna ask anyone out? I've noticed you've been doing a lot of research on Ellen DeGeneres lately? Do you need my help picking out a dress for semi formal, maybe, out of the closet?'

And now you know.

After testing everyone struggles to get back in routine, and most classes are especially boring. I took notes in most, today. I think this is when the hard core senioritis starts to kick in. With 13 weeks left, we just start to drop like flies.In fact we took 5 different pages of notes in Geo today, and the pain was only amplified by the fact that my teacher was on her period or something. She snapped at us more then once, and then later as we began to talk again, she asked is if we wanted to see her bad side again. And, let's not kid ourselves, I think you know what happened next.
'Eric, was that you that said yes, Christian, you? Because I know where all of you live, I got Map Quest, Google Earth is a click away. I'll follow you home,'

Oh, you don't find this freakin terrifying? Let me give you a mental picture of my teachers.

I start off in 0 period, with my grandmotherlike English teacher. Who, I feel, should always be offering us cookies and verbs or something, and looks like those women in the movies who take out their long gray or white hair and brush it while their husband talks about his day at work. Am I the only one who always sees that scene in movies? She's only 58, but middle school and her ELL (English Language Learning) class has worn her out.

First hour I have math, with Ms.Bumpy Head. And while that sums all math teachers up fairly well, I suppose I should mention her mum sweater. It's this big pink sweater, and she just got a new one, not that we noticed, because it's basically the same one. Something about teaching math makes teachers think that they can go around wearing polos, pushing up their glasses onto their foreheads so their bangs go crazy and wearing floppy pants okay.

For second and third I have Ms.Heels. You've probably noticed by now, how I nick name these guys. I'm no pro. Ms. Buhler will go down in history has Miss. Boobler, and Mr.Irving will never have a student that hasn't cursed Mr.Pervin. Ms.McMulons, for some reason is called Ms.McMuffin, but you know, they can't all be great.

Ms.Heel's only wears her long, blond hair down, and has no bangs. It's constantly being redyed and she looks like a vampire that doesn't sparkle. Definitely 'hot women at bar,' or 'porn teacher,' (I assume) but not exactly the most not scary looking out there. Least not scary. What I'm saying is, she isn't to bad, but she;s not exactly Gwenyth Paltrow. (That's our dance teacher :))

My geography teacher is this large, half black, tall (she was called twisted stilts in high school, god, we are good at nicknames,) who wears almost tribal clothing, lots of shapes, and big jewelry. And even more scary, despite how nice she can be.
In my opinion, there are two types of scary. There's understated, intimidating, I'm a lion and your my dinner scary. And then their Ms. Candy scary. The long, false, eye ripping, nails, stare you down while raising one eyebrow, pursed lips scary.

Fifth period I have health with a 52 year old, bald white guy. Who looks like this-

Mr.Clean.

And then sixth hour I have my sarcastic science teacher who shops at Nordstrums with the money she makes doing nothing. Description? I barely ever really see her, she prefers to look at her computer then us. Sorry.

And what do I look like? Imagine everything you love about Jennifer Love Hewitt. And then multiply that by three. And then imagine the exact opposite. Come on mother nature, what I ever do to you, bro?

Alright, love you. Soo homo.
Unless you wear Crocs, and then you can just continue your tacky, walking on air relationship with them.

March 13, 2011

Let me preface this story with a fact that you should all understand, Ms.Heels be crazy.

We were all going back to our seats after working in 2 different groups in the chamber of secrets. Apparently Ms.Heels had a deadline she forgot about, so she set us up on our own. As we were settling, we began to talk. As is to be expected. (Don't you hate it when teachers will say something like,"Stop your talking about you and Sally going to the mall on Sunday and Billy and Joe kissing their girlfriends behind the bleachers." One- we do not talk about things like that. Ever. Two- Why are the scenarios to absurdly 1950's, and the names, Geez, I go to a school with kids named YiYi and Mogunda. Sally, really?) Ms.Heel's then proceeds to -- mind, she's still at her desk because she might as well be one of us when it comes to homework, which is a mild insult to us -- call out,'Tim! Stop talking!'

If I had a nickel for every time I heard that...Do people ever finish those sentences?

Those words come out of her Mary Kay smothered lips about 6 times a day. So this shouldn't have been the climax of the story, until you looked around, the room hushed, and we all realized Tim wasn't even there.

He poked his head out of the bathroom, 'Did I did something, miss?' And Ms. Heels, so embarrassed, I assume, sent him to the corner!

Am I the only one who thinks this is wrong?

But that's just another rule of middle school. No matter what, the teacher's right. When they say that Bach composed Eine Klienie Noctmusik, you must shut your mouth. I would much prefer the "customers always right" treatment, but alas. Teachers really stopped selling anyway, am I right? Oh, that's only my crap teachers, you say, my slum school?

But I probably should have guessed that when all of 5th period on Thursday we just told jokes. What do you call a Mexican with a rubber toe? Roberto!
My school is 80% Mexican. 15% Black. And the other 5% is me.

This weekend I hung out primarily with Issy. She came over and we went shopping, without buying, and then I went over to her house and we actually went shopping, with buying. I got a new shirt and a new dress. Mission achieved! It was a little scary to shop with her, because I assume you know the drill. You both get piles. You get rooms next to each other and then you come out after every item. And then you judge. And while it's nice to have a friends opinion, the only thing missing is the judging sheets numbered 1 through 10. Or maybe you don't know the drill, because you're reading this, and that's a pretty clear sign that you don't go outside.

But I'm a bad friend. And when a person who I write BFF to on Christmas cards, asks me if they look better with straight hair or curly hair, and they look better with curly, I will tell them straight. That's how flat out terrible I am. I've been trying to stop, I haven't been giving any opinions whatsoever all year. But this makes me paranoid, thinking every ones like me.Which I should just stop kidding myself about.

I also got extremely scared this weekend because of the whole Japan ordeal. I was scared for the radio activeness, and ending up like my parents and not being able to taste chocolate, or see pictures of Jane Lynch anymore. For some reason this was all linked in my mind.

But seriously, if I prayed I would pray for them. And I would say my thoughts are with them, but to be honest in order to stop from peeing myself, I've been thinking of anything but. It's scary and sad, and that's the thing about tragedy like this. When it's written about or spoken beforehand, you don't worry, and then afterward you can't help but consider your own mortality. And I am far too beautiful to die young.

I hope you're all well, listening to Brittany, looking up recipes for fried pickles, and not wearing Crocs!

March 9, 2011

Testing again. And a broken violin string. And sleep.

So I am going to let you in on one vital piece of information about middle school.

It defies the law's that singing, hot pink, high school movies try to instill. And it goes against everything your mother has ever written on a note and left in your lunch.

But here it is.

Middle school is a food chain in which no rabbit protests the mountain lions.

It's simple, and cruel, but after a while, your place is your place. And any disturbance is annoying, aggravating.

When you see two of the most popular boys at school at table one, you don't cheer for love and equality, you complain. Because, as I've probably made clear, change is the kryptonite of Jr. high.

I saw Hannie today with her hair curled and in cute low pigtails and I nearly broke a blood vessel. As did Issy. This is going to sound mean, but it's like seeing the nerd get a hair cut with really cute bangs. You can't help but think, that's wrong, I don't want you to look like that, she doesn't deserve that. Go back to being ugly.

Maybe your thinking it's only people at my invisible level, not a loner, not a dork, that think this. You'd be incorrect. Band geeks don't nudge in to the wrong conversations and the only living nerd I know who has ever tried to make small talk with popular people is Specs. So lesson learned, no sane person messes with the delicate balance you are set into in the 6th grade. 

 Maybe it's because you become so used to your part in the system when it's moved, even slightly, like Spec's no longer really talking to me, getting new friends, traveling in groups, that you can't help but feel like you're lacking something.

Makeovers don't happen and pulling out your pony tail and taking off your glasses doesn't make you a Plastic, it makes you incredibly naive.

You can scold me, but I don't choose to get sucked in by the status quo of 8th grade. It happens, and then you live. And you keep your head down in the hallways, and you ask the nerds to help you on the computer, and you smile at the popular people only when smiled to.

And you can't imagine it any other way.

So don't try to mess up the flow and oh...don't wear Crocs.

March 8, 2011

Sorry about the no blog thing yesterday. It want even because of testing, I got sick. I joked about drinking some of the fluoride at the dentists, but I didn't, and the pain in my stomach got extremely bad. My mommy spent the night with me and I almost puked. But that's nothing compared to what I did today.

I
Wore
No
Makeup

I know, stop the presses, call the sheriff (what?) do we even have sheriffs?

It wasn't that big of a deal, until it was.

See here's my logic. When Ariel went a week without makeup she got dozens of compliments, mostly from me, but whatever, so I figured when I get complimented I will stop wearing makeup because of my new found confidence. Thereby stopping the artificial, self conscience ways of teenagers who have to look up to crazy ideals.

I didn't really get complimented without begging for it, so not only did I turn to the dark side, but I guess young girls will continue to feel ugly in their own skin.
Back to the drawing board.

I had testing again today, math part 1.
See they give out different versions, and I got Version 1.  Now if there's one thing I hate, and there is, it's when I'm talking about how hard a question was and someone blames it on how my version was personalized because I'm so smart.

What? No wonder you have Version 5...

Actually although the testing was hard, it wasn't as bad as yesterday when we spent 5 hours in that room. Only 2, today, and they handed out froot roll-ups. Is froot spelled like that in this case?

They also gave us mints. And I swear to God I felt like I was in an orphanage or something. Ms.Blue said,'Now I'm gonna pass out your mint, you can choose when to eat it, but you only get one a day!' And then she delicately placed one on each desk.
The mints had Rock and Roll wrappers, which is our school theme this year. Does that mean they ordered those special? Did they use the money they earned without having to pay for a principal on this? Budget cuts, no?

Ms.Blue's weirdness didn't really stop there. She read the directions like a robot, to entertain us? To entertain herself? For the walls she talks to? And I guess the voice distracted from the actual instructions, so when I had finished my first half of the test and went to go put it in the crate with the others, so that she could hand it back later, this happened. She split the pile and handed out the tests to the first half's owners after about 10 minutes. When I asked why I didn't have mine back she said I would in 7 minutes. And then that was it!

But that wasn't as bad as what happened at the last home basketball game. Kenzie was asking me what my parents did, so I asked her what her dad did. And she said this,'My mom, on a daily basis.' And just walked away! No explanation, just yeah...that's it. I don't know her parents and I'm creeped out. She ruined a relationship we could have had.

Ugh.

I guess I have to go to school now...always remember kids- Broccoli is for the weak, telling the truth is for the boring, and wearing Crocs is for the stupid.

March 3, 2011

Again we went to testing homeroom, and I had to deal with the vice principle and principle on the news. Only the principle didn't talk once, usually she gets at least one sentence in about 'skoo,' but not today. I figure she's dead, and because of the budget cuts they cant afford to hire anyone else.

I mean we've never seen her walk, and the 6th graders don't know her name, so it really all adds up.

As a treat I have compiled a list of things I hate.
Enjoy.

1. PeOpLe wHo tYpE LiKe  tHis, this really is for the three G's, girls, gays, and Guido's.
2. People who put the f word in between all of their other words. It's funny, and then it's really sad.
3. Those girls that don't wear sweaters in the morning, and look really cool with their arms bare. Yeah, their cool alright, like cold, get it?
4. The answer option d) none of the above or d)all of the above.
5. When people dress this way- sock, shoe, sock shoe.
6. People who answer 'Whats your favorite type of music?' with 'Not country!' That wasn't the question!
7. People who bag on Justin Beiber.
9. When people say,'No pun intended,' when there was no pun to be intended.
10. Voice mails. So much more work.
11. The celebrities who add on to the torture of their kids with screwed up names.
12. When you cup both hands under your skoo desk to move it and you touch someones gum.
13. Scarfs and sunglasses in doors. You know who you are.
14. When your ipod head phones cord is tangled.
15. Those girls who mess around and horseplay by ruffing up your hair and totally pulling chunks of it out of place. But it's just a game.
16. How are you doing? Sigh....Sigh. Whats wrong? It's okay. Are you sure? No.
17.The wet part in the eggs that make you think your gonna die of salmonella.
18. Best Sold By dates on food, it's as if they want to paranoiay me. I know it says buy, not eat. But it gets to me.
19. Dude.
20. When you buy one ticket for anything and the person behind the counter says,'Just you?'

My weekend felt unbearably short compared to the last two long weekends. We went over to my grandma's house and played poker, and may I just say, I am goood. I did my hair, went to the gym, watched the King's Speech. All very productive.
I'd give you a review, but it's pointless.

I also have a new life goal. After watching the Oscars I looked up the Academy of Motion Pictures Art and Science, I think. And I realized I want to be on that committee. It's invitation only and I have no problem with going Blair Waldorf on them. All you have to do is contribute to motion pictures, and I already wanted to be a screen writer. I'm making this sound easy, but as I type this I'm reorganizing my 8 year plan.

This week I have state, or maybe county, testing and blogs may be scarce.
Issy was in Disneyland this weekend for cheerleader nationals. It was her first time at Disneyland. In fact she's probably still there. Timing didn't work out all that great with all the testing.

This weekend my mom told me my dog was off his nut.
Whether your a pedo,or more appropriately a bestialitist, or not, I'm sure you don't know what this means.
Is he back on his nut?
It's only a matter of time before I have to start researching homes for you know who.

Hey try adding 'in my pants' to any song title. I dare you.

So I'm reading the second book in Orson Scott Card's Ender series, Speaker for the Dead, and I don't know if you remember my immediate love of Ender's Game, but it isn't that much different than my adorement of this novel. It's complicated and deep and so very human for a book based around aliens.
Yes, that's what I love most about it. The very relatability to the character's from other worlds, other centuries, other planets.

Things I like? Mhm. That's hard.
And not the point.
21. Crocs! Look at your feet, look at a normal persons feet, back at your feet. Back at theirs.

March 2, 2011

Today I had to go to my testing homeroom, for test prep, in order to get us used to that teacher because the state testing is next week. So I was in with Ms.Blue again, or should we call her Ms.Crazy. She's the one that talks to the walls and has random household lamps around her room.

She kept telling us to work together, and then not talk. And then we would whisper and she'd go all wall on us. We had to do this packet with science, math and English practice in it. The three 7th grade teachers on the news guiding us through it we really cheesy and if we had been playing a drinking game with 'do your best on the test!' we would all be...you know what, considering my school, it's not really as surprising as I had thought it would be.

In fact in English we were sitting on the desks and folding papers, being real hooligans, and someone said,'Where's Christa?'
Bernie- 'Oh, she's high,'
And because it's my school and everyone's always joking about that kind of stuff, my teacher laughed but said,'Really?'
To which Jordan eloquently responded- 'No joke, she's a hella stoner,'

And that was it.

We were in health, with a capitol H, today and as you know we had the story assignment. When I got to school, I was the only one who had done it, so while everyone else did theirs in class, I wrote another. Only this time it was about Brittany and Lindsey and Paris and the new girl on the block, Kim and her sisters.

Ahh, you see what I did there?

The teacher tried to read it, and then Spec's raised her hand and said she knew exactly how to read my writing. She act's like we,re sole mates and my sloppy hand writing is my coffee order.
When I had read it to Megan, she couldn't stop laughing, and then when Spec's read it, it was kinda like my story was shot, and then buried and reborn in order to be shot again.

She butchered it to no end, and no one laughed or clapped. I heard a few poorly suppressed 'boo's.' But I couldn't really expect much, I mean I had to follow the popular kids skit that featured one of the cheerleaders pregnant and them deciding if the baby daddy was Justin Beiber, A-Rod, or Chris Brown.

And we all know what Beiber does on his spare time....

Facebook post of the day...it's that one girl again, the one with the strange suicidey posts. 
i hope i get lead poisoning and die. hmm. goodnight everybody ♥
Does anyone else think we may have a problem on our hands?

  I hope you had a good day and I hope you don't wear Crocs, and I hope we can be friends!

March 1, 2011

Fun Fact- I always wish that I was born on leap day, so that I could be like the very people I always want to punch whenever I'm asked how old I am.


Today I worked in a group with the cheer captain, Carly, Kenzie, and this other vegetarian in my class who is probably a popular version Specs, Red. We had to do 5 different experiments in science. We started with one where you boiled water, distributed it to water bottles and but the water bottles in socks. Measuring temperature at certain times.

The bantering didn't stop throughout the entire event, and started strong in the beginning.
Kenzie- What O? Your mad because you would already be done with this if you were working alone?
Me- Water doesn't boil faster when I'm alone.
Carly- You two crack me up.

Kenzie- Is it 54 divided by 73?
Me- No
2 and a half minutes later...
Me- it's 26%
Kenzie- Oh, so you were just being a douche before?
Me- ?
Kenzie- What you think there can't be girl douches?
Me- Well, you're here so I never really doubted it...
Kenzie- You are unbelievable.
Me- No emoticon to describe the feelings I evoke?

And then after she had spilled two of the bottles, melted the clay and broken two of the thermometer...
Kenzie- Don't hate me!
Me- Hate would imply that I have strong feelings for you, and that I care enough to name my feelings of dislike.

But by the end of the hour Carly was rolling her eyes like crazy and I could tell she was getting above angry, at least Kenzie was cool with it. She didn't do any work except light the candle, and that was against the rules because I was supposed to.

I think we ended up with an A, but to be honest working with cheerleaders made me not care. That sounded so not how I wanted it to, I meant they made it so difficult that by the end I was fine with any grade. Yeah.

Miley, the FacebookFanPage girl, lost her phone. Or it was stolen, but probably not. She was crying throughout Geo and all her little friends couldn't wait to comfort her and let her use all of their phones for the day. She kept saying,'I feel like I'm missing something! Like a part of me!' And I couldn't help but think lost something, your identity? oh wait....Your dignity? Is it all over the tissues?

Maybe I'm being hard on her, but a phone should never become so much of your life that you miss it like a dead grandparent.

Oh! And worse than that is blue waffle. It's a disease you get in your lady parts and if you listen to anything I say may it be this, never, and I mean never ever, look at pictures of it. I can feel the bile rising in my throat thinking of it. It will burn into your eyes. I can see it now! I am scarred for soo long. ehehe.

Facebook post of the day- From the star basketball player- 
well my birthday is in 19 days (don't get me anything please) and still need to know what color for braces i should get
Presumptuous, no?
And on a side note. Why is it that people with braces always feel the need to talk about them...and show them off...and bring in before pictures...and play with their rubber bands. I swear sometimes after the chamber of secrets I feel like I have more of Hannie's spit in my mouth then she does. Again, that came off wrong. 
It's just, why do they always fling those things around? That's what she said.
I'm on a roll. 


I had to write a story for Health, with a capitol H, and I made mine a fairytale about a King who goes out to spread awareness about healthy living and how the prince and princess find him in a shack using the eating right pamphlets as fire starters and binging on junk food. Pick that up Disney. 


I guess I should go before I make more inappropriate jokes. 
Don't go around wearing Ugg's or Croc's cause then I'd have to come and....Jesus Christ.
 

February 28, 2011

My theory- All those Chinese symbols people get tattooed onto them are numbers, like in the Holocaust, and eventually, when China takes over, they will already have us all marked.

I taught my mom what a tramp stamp is. For some reason, it's where most girls want their tattoo's. Specs, ironically, wants hers there. I think it will say Freedom Isn't Free, which is one of the ones her father has.

My night hasn't exactly been TV worthy, let's call it the Shoe Fiasco. Yeah, that makes it sound cool, for being a tear soaked, Pay-less, studded, ruffled mess.

I ended up with a new pair of red flats, and ones my mom picked out, that I don't exactly 'care for.'

I've started to watch Modern Family again, and well I can relate to it, the way they portray 'odd' families makes me feel worse about mine. The three on the show are suppose to be the weirdest of the weird, and then there's mine.

I had another long weekend, something to do with the staff at my school improving. Which is probably easier said then done considering we have Mr.Gonzales. He looks like he's in his late twenties, and he's a hall monitor. Thank God, he has no real responsibility. He's the one that stopped me in the hall and asked me if I actually went to this school. I always feel like he flirts with the kids and I just...ugh, he's creepier than this guy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bhuYIr1J1zc
Improve that with a day off school!

But the day off also meant I got to watch the Academy Awards. Which, being a movie buff in training, is pretty awesome. I'd seen a few of the movies, but I haven't yet seen The Kings Speech or Black Swan, probably the most important to see. I'm planning on going with my mom this weekend, while my little sister sees Rango or Never Say Never. Geez, she's so behind.

I liked Scarlett Johanssen's dress, but she would have looked good in anything, am I right?
I liked Mila Kunis's dress? It grew on me.
And despite my hatred for Anne Hathaway, period, and the progressing feelings due to her failure at hosting, I liked the Valentino Archive, she began in.

I spent a lot of time with my grandparents this weekend, and it was really fun. I beat them all at poker, which by the way I don't know how to play. And we had grilled cheese and fries, and Dairy Queen, and it was awesome. They're really cool people. Last year, when my best friend flew in for the Summer, she adored them, and I didn't get it. But they really do have some amazing stories to tell, and I can only hope to be like them. And look like Julie Andrews and have a kid like Ben Affleck.

Oh and to look like a Nicholas Sparks character, that's still on the list.

Ben Affleck takes care of his mom right? He seems like he would.

I would rather relive the Shoe Fiasco than go back to school tomorrow, I didn't have time to do my hair. And they cut people at my school for being white and having curly hair. Honest to God. They need excuses.

I went to the game. Yeah, the basketball game on Friday. I missed the singing of the Star Spangled Banner or something and the first 3 or so minutes of the girls game, but it wasn't like I missed that much.

I sat by Issy, and held her pom poms and I guess she told the girls who go into the mascot suit, it looks like a giant bear, that I was afraid of it. So that thing was following me all night. It was touching me and blowing me kisses and following me. She's a great friend, Issy, she really is.

Of course Specs ended up going, but as I told you last time, she's becoming more and more distant. Which, is good and all, but sometimes she's the only one I have to walk the halls with, or eat lunch with. I'm gonna have to start carrying my book everywhere again, so I don't look like a dumb loner.

The life I lead doesn't even keep me interested.

Don't wear crocs or uggs, and we just might be able to be friends!

PS- I was thinking of the 6th grade, and this memory from reading class made me laugh. We were reading a book, it doesn't matter what, and there was a sentence that started like this,'C'mon man...' In that class we 'popcorned' which just meant calling someone else's name when you were done reading. When this boy, Nathan, was popcorned he started this sentence and said semen, and my teacher laughed so hard. And now I get it.