"He'll sit there and go, Dipsy... Po... Dipsy... Po. I honestly don't think he knows colors. Just Teletubbies."


Frellity frell frell.

Okay. Got midterms today, and they suck quite a lot. So don't be surprised if I'm grounded and can't talk on here until I get back from Alaska. I have decided that I hate teachers who grade midterms low so that you're inspired to do better when they can tell that you really don't care. And ones who wait to correct the things you're good at until after midterms. Also, I'm doing moderately okay in math (a B-, which is really, really good for me, but that's probably because I test really well), which is just bizarre. Also, I'm going to be in Madison visiting Mummy's family all weekend, and next weekend I have my band trip, where we will be visiting the aforementioned Jelly Belly Factory, Six Flags Great America, and a hotel, which will take up my Friday and Saturday.

On a lighter note, here is a dream from last night:
Angie and I are sitting amongst many people in a circle of chairs in the cafeteria area of a local grade school. We realize that Patricia Clarkson and Campbell Scott are sitting right across from us and we are very excited. Then we are having some sort of therapy game. Then we are magically transported to some vague theatre-lobby sort of thing, with gray carpets and a row of glass doors, and we run into Patricia and Campbell again. We have a very nice discussion. Patricia is very, very outgoing and exuberant and Campbell is rather reserved.

Talked to Mummy, who is going to talk to Vati about my slightly disappointing language arts grade. I hate the Potato.


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