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


The Jane Craig in Me Has Revealed Herself Again.

GDFSFDSGFFFFSSSSGGGGGGGBBBB. Yeah, now just think of profanities that start with those letters, and you've got what I've been saying for the past ten minutes. Okay, as if the highly stress-inducing 65% was not bad enough, I got an 88% on my French test. Which really isn't that bad, except that... um, hi, it's French. I don't get below a 90. On anything. Ever. And now I have a 96 and I'm going to fail immersion school.

I need to settle down, but it's so hard when I'm addicted to the goddamn online gradebook and it keeps getting changed every five minutes.

Oh, wait, I'm still probably at a 97, it's just that the grades for our dialogues have suddenly disappeared. Don't ask me why I keep checking this thing when I have to look at that stupid F for my second quarter ICP grade. Okay, I swear I'm just going to let this blog die if it just becomes me getting all obsessive and excessive and high strung and Jane Craig and "Vienna" -esque, because no one wants to read that and no one should have to read that, so I'll just keep it to myself.

Really, I'm like one of those dieting blogs for the academically-stressed lately, and it has got to stop. Although maybe I'll pioneer a new type of blog: grade-obsessed-freak-blogs. It's going to stop. I promise. And if it doesn't, I'll probably drive myself crazy.

My brother has the cutest laugh ever. It's possibly his one nice quality, even if he is laughing at Ed, Edd, and Eddy. I love her dearly, PJ Harvey's eyebrows are just ridiculously awful on the cover of Uh Huh Her. Really, woman, just be like me and have your mom do it. My "life soundtrack" playlist on iTunes has 38 songs, at least half of which are sad and/or depressing.

See? I actually had three non-obsessive thoughts in a row. I'm calming down. I'm going to go to sleep early tonight, get eight hours, even though I've never needed them--- OH MY GOD. That's why I did so AWFUL on all my grades. Christ almighty. I didn't sleep last night, not any more than six hours at the most. THAT'S WHY I DID SO AWFUL.

Well, I can breathe now. And I'm going to get eight hours of sleep, and go to the bake sale a bit early in a misguided attempt to get a hold of Adult Hermione (actually, Das Vater is going out to breakfast with a friend and needed to drop me off early, but that will give me something to do). And then I'm going to tell Madame she was totally right about the sleep thing, her and her smart-ass Harvard brain studies, and I'm going to drink more water and get more sleep.

My god, I can't believe I didn't figure out the sleep thing from re-reading all these psychotic and rambly blog entries now. Maybe I'm just a total moron.


Blogger mai babbled mindlessly...

You, young lady, have two choices: you can go listen to jeff buckley and get depressed, or you can start breathing, go eat some pasta, and calm down. Then, you can deny yourself access to the online gradebooks and go read something funny. Like Pamie. Or Manolo. Or you could maybe go read Jane Austen. And then, you can drink some vitamin water and fall asleep to the shins.

Just calm down, honey. Please, please don't abandon the blog (I don't think you really would, but still) if only because you promised.

Fake Sick has an adorable laugh.

Looking at old blog posts is not the thing to do right now. It will make you want to delete yourself into oblivion.

I love you, a lot.

9:18 PM

Blogger Kellinka babbled mindlessly...

I love you too. And I'm not worried about my grades anymore, even though I didn't even bother talking to Adult Hermione at the bake sale. Seriously, I think the next time I get all stressed, I'm just going to go hang out early in the morning in the French room and hang out with Madame and Senora G. Because that calmed me down, a ton, on top of shopping for books and CDs. I think I might be PMSing.

10:48 AM


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