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

12.31.2004

Let's party like it's 2004.

2004 was, in the end, a great, hilarious, phenomenal year, despite parts of it really, really sucking. Actually, just one part. And a lot of good came of that in the end. Anyway, a quick recap of all the great things that happened in 2004.

  • I came to NDA, therefore meeting some incredible friends whom I know I will have the rest of my life-- Pencil Case, Chelsea, and Maggie. I also kept a phenomenal friend who means so much to me, Betty Jean. And I met several adults who have influenced me so much just by being their funny, smart, influential selves-- Madame, G-Dawg, and Stary, all of whom I will continue to bother for guidance and hilarity long after I leave NDA. This is definitely the best part of my year, because it will last the longest. (Long pause.) Sorry, I'm corny, but I really do click with these people, and they deserve a mention for making my year so fantabulous.

  • I had genuinely good ideas for writing, especially for the last month. And I started this blog.


  • I traveled to Alaska, which was just a great trip no matter how wary I was of it before I left.


  • I became a totally-nardly geek-chic drama dork times ninety-two to the fifth dimension.


  • I laughed harder than I ever have, and far too many times to count.


  • I grew to really, really enjoy school. Which sounds really dorky, but I'm trying to de-dork that statement. It isn't working. There are just so many great people there, but, at the same time, it's not a social thing. I think it's because I'm learning interesting things in an interesting way.

  • I had my first "boyfriend"... just kidding. Although everyone else seems to think so, so I'll just go along with that.


  • As Chelsea pointed out, I now can say "I have a dynamic butt" in two languages. I mean, if that doesn't constitute a good year, what does? And this is the best part: by the end of 2005, I'll be able to say it in three languages. Hopefully.


  • Happy new year, everybody. I hope your year was, in the end, as good as mine.

    12.30.2004

    Well. This Bites.

    So, Maggie and Chels and I were talking today about how we are bored and the fact that we should do something tonight. We talked a bit, as usual, about how there is nothing to do in boring old Green Bay, and then I was struck with the absolutely brilliant idea that we should go cosmic bowling. Except we can't. Because we are totally dependent on our parents for transportation, and our parents all have previous commitments. And we don't have drivers' liscences.

    Plus the fact that social lives are completely beyond our parents. My mother seems to think that sitting around, being bored, and chatting online on the last normal night of 2004 is the same thing as going cosmic bowling on the last normal night of 2004.

    This is, as Maggie likes to say, a pisser.

    I went to the library today. I felt very intellectual, checking out my large stack of books and the soundtrack of Thoroughly Modern Millie. Then I walked over to Sueanne's and ate a big bagel and read. I felt even more intellectual, except that I did not drink any coffee. That is the only thing that would make me feel smarter (but I am coffee-free nowadays.) Well, except for my brilliant cosmic bowling idea. Ugh I'm so terribly bored and sad and angry. But Pencil Case is online, and so that is good. I think my obscene boredom is reflecting onto this entry, so I'm going to wrap it up.

    Me: Hmmm. She must be unlisted.
    Chels: That BITCH!

    12.28.2004

    Smile Like You Mean It

    Today was an extremely entertaining and hilarious day. For those of you who are wondering what entertaining consists of, here is a minute-or-less-recap: escapes to Max and Erma's, chicken fingers shaped like Madagascar, big-ass pickup trucks, me being made fun of for being short, seeing G-Dawg at B&N, filling G-Dawg in on all the hawt NDA gossip, darts and pool, coming out of the closet in many nationalities, personality disorders, small personality flaws like murder, and flying.

    This is a sign that my story is much better encompassed with quotes, so here goes.

    Actually, first I will start with a quote from my brother, Fake Sick, when he picked up the phone yesterday when Pencil Case called. "What? Oh, okay. (Looks at the Caller ID screen as he hands me the phone.) Leslie somebody is calling for you." Anyway, back to the entertainingness of today.

    Maggie: IN! AN! IGLOO!

    Maggie: Ooh! My chicken finger is shaped like a saxophone!
    Me: Wow! Mine is shaped like a musical note!
    Chels: Mine is a one-legged dog!
    Me: This one is shaped like Madagascar! (Points to the remaining chicken nugget on Chellie's plate.) And that one is shaped like a squished toad!

    Maggie, pointing to her five-year-old cousin's shoes: Kellie, here are your shoes!

    Maggie: I bet she can hardly see over the steering wheel!
    Me: Yeah. So, are we done making fun of short people?

    Chels, telling a story about Erik: And then he said, "You have nice knuckles. I have fat knuckles. I have fuckles."

    Me: So, I'm paranoid and Maggie's obsessive-compulsive. What do you want to be, Chels? You could be schizoid or a kleptomaniac or multiple-personality.
    Emily: Or all of the above!
    Chelsea: I think I want to have multiple-personality disorder. That would actually be sort of fun. You could be a hyena one minute, and Bill Gates the next!

    Maggie: Paul lives on Majestic Oak Road. (Chelsea and I collapse in laughter.)

    Chels: We should drive to Russia!
    Me: That doesn't even make sense.
    Maggie: That's impossible.
    Chels: Well, we'll just have to patch together the Bering Strait, then, won't we?!

    Maggie, in front of eight dozen old people: I nap all the time! I feel like an old person!
    G-Dawg: Maggie, shhhhh.

    Anyway, add on top of all that hilarity: our insane innuendoes playing pool (come on, it's a game with sticks and balls, so much is possible); talking about people whom we hate; and coming out of the closet in Swedish, English, Rosieonics, jazz-hands, and Emily's dance costume. Oh, and me being paranoid ("Only the paranoid survive." --Emily); and the incident of Maggie's cousin scaring the bejesus outta us by doing absolutely nothing. Well, she did do something, she said "Hi!" in her cute little kid voice, and none of us had noticed her there before. Hence us screaming and Maggie falling over, with me doing a vague stop-drop-and-roll.

    And, no matter what Maggie and Chels say, I did NOT do the Sign of the Cross after paying the waitress at Max and Erma's. Well, if I did, I forgot it about seven seconds later.

    12.27.2004

    "Do we have to do dreams?"

    I had two incredibly bizarre dreams last night. Really, you have no idea.

    In Dream #1, I went to a convenience store on a street corner of what I believe was Brooklyn. Although I have never been to Brooklyn, so it might have been some district of Chicago I actually have visited. Anyway, this convenience store was the kind where you can rent/buy movies and they had a lot of candy. But not any candy I had ever seen before, these were things like dinosaurs sculpted from clumps of SweetTarts (oh, I love SweetTarts, but anyway.) So I meandered over to the movies, and I bought a seven dollar copy of Pirates of the Caribbean that had a very strange cover. Yes, the picture on the cover of the case looked exactly the same as it does, except the background was sparkly gold. Then, as expected, I woke up, worried that my subconscious was having a serious internal glitch.

    Dream #2 is quite possibly the coolest, most derangedly awesome dream I have ever had in my life. That really made it sound like an acid trip, but it was so much better than that. See, NDA had a "Summer School", so all my little French peeps and I decided to go join. Oui, oui. Then we were split up into four houses, and my house was just me and my French class peeps. We were assigned to a room that was all white and exactly similarly designed as the art room at SMS, except that it had no closets. We had so much fun at summer school. We didn't learn anything academic, just really random things Madame would tell us. And, even though we spent most of our days jumping on a trampoline or watching movies, we smoked all the other schools in our academic competitions. We had theme dress up days every day, such as 80s, pajamas, and emo. Yes, we had an emo dress up day. Our rule was that if you wanted to say something nice, you had to write it in a letter on a half-sheet of white printer paper in Sharpie. You couldn't just go tell them the nice thing out loud, you had to put it into words on paper. On Emo Day, Madame wrote us really nice notes that were extremely non-emo, but we all looked so hot and smart, like we were. Anyway, it was a fantastic dream. We played a lot of Charades, of course.

    Pencil Case and I are having a lovely hourlong conversation. 59:36. So great, what a good time. Awww, we all miss Pencil Case so much. He's so funny and famous. Such a hilarious discussion, le sigh. We talked a lot about French class and how much we miss it, which involved a lot of his crazy theories/things no one else remembers. Like, "Madame said, 'Why is your nickname Pencil Case?' and I said, 'Oh, because Kellinka thought of it.' and she said, 'Oh, it suits you, because you're kind of a mental case.'" Then he made random animal/Swahili noises, talked about priests and nuns, special friends, and Siberia. Also how he thinks my entire family is alcoholics. So, so fun. And then he forced me to update this blog to talk about it.

    12.26.2004

    Missing

    I was in a horrible, awful, genuinely bad mood today. Now, for some reason, this mood decided to wait until the day after Christmas, and it wasn't even about the holidays. It was about not wanting to go shopping but still being forced to anyway and then not buying anything, my mom being absolutely obessed with buying a shirt for school that goes with the cardigan she bought me because apparently I don't have 85 school shirts too many already, my mom pointing out a million sweaters for school at the Gap when I really didn't want to shop for clothes, and realizing I haven't seen any of my peeps since Wednesday. Which is four days, four really really long family-filled days. I'm home, but I'm not.

    I miss Pencil Case, who is not even in the damn state. I miss gym class with him, being passive-aggresive towards The Moo with Chelsey and making fun of QB. I miss our random and somewhat violent conversations over IM. I miss Chelsea and Maggie so much, too, but I really solemnly swear and promise to see them tomorrow even if it means killing my father and buying a chauffer with the insurance money. I miss people who don't just assign blame to whoever is near, which is a pretty apt description of my father after my mom told him that if he's going to continue to blame his childhood, she's going to make him see a specialist so he can "get the hell over it." So he just blames me for being annoyed with his family, which we all are, I just happen to be the most easy to tack all the blame to. None of my little peeps are online to talk to and that makes me sad. I miss French class. I miss Madame and our little chats. I miss Betty Jean.

    This sucks. I usually see my favorite people, my non-family non-judgemental intellectual non-blaming people, on a daily basis. And I just braved four whole days of constant family without them. I wish I could pinpoint why my family sucks, but I can't. If I could, my explanation would be: we just do.

    This is why I didn't post much over the holidays, this is why I hate the holidays. The holidays just feed every passive-aggressive behavior anyone has. I'm tired of being sad and moody and overemotional but still nonemotive. And so, I'm going to pretend it's not the holidays. I can just pretend I don't have a family and that I am an orphan girl who lives in a community of movie-watching hilarious peeps. And I can stop being so damn self-centered.

    Well, that's out of my system. I'm going to go work on my novel-concept-which-will-probably-never-happen now.

    12.25.2004

    Merry Christmas.

    Wow, I haven't posted in three days! The thing is that there really hasn't been much to say. Happy holidays, everyone. I had a good Christmas-- meaning no one has made me mad enough to say differently, although the whole family (except for Mai and CoolAunt) is wearing thin on me. Especially Das Vater. Which is great, because I have to deal with them again tomorrow.

    Although I love my mom's side of the family. We just talk about alcohol, Bave's "alcoholic ho-bag" (tm Denda) ex-wife. Oh, and I learned how to make vodka chilled neat. And I feel the need to mention, for Van Chelsing, that I used Stoli. (And, noooo, I didn't drink any.)

    This is a good place to tell Aunt Shannon's Ham Story, which goes as such: "I've always hated ham too! Yeah, because once, when I was maybe seven, we had a really salty ham. And my grandma promised me we'd go on a walk, just me and her, after brunch and I felt really special. Well, the ham was so salty that her feet swelled up! And they couldn't fit into her shoes, and so we didn't get to go on a walk! (Melodramatic pause.) I have never eaten ham since." I swear she hadn't had any alcohol yet.

    I'm watching Elf on DVD right now. I want to be Amy Sedaris when I grow up. I wish the Sedarises were my family. Gift-wise, this was an excellent Christmas, both giving and getting. Poddly has a pink leather "jacket" now, and new headphones since my old ones were falling apart. Frou Frou's Details album is excellent; there isn't a single song I don't like. I think, perhaps maybe, when I can drive, this would be a fabulous album to drive to, but not as excellent as Daft Punk.

    I miss my friends. Seriously, I'm having French class withdrawal pains already. So I'm going to go carb-load or something, since I have nothing important or influential to say. Not that I ever do. Anyway, as of tomorrow evening, after this brunch b.s. I'm being taken hostage to do, my schedule is open and free to spend with Maggie and Van Chelsing. Also, Yay.

    I seem to have forgotten that Van Chelsing called Michael Jordan "Bill Jordan" whilst watching Home Alone on Friday. That gave me the giggles pretty badly.

    12.22.2004

    Awwwww.

    Even though Pencil Case is gone, today is great. I've realized, no matter how cheesy this is, how lucky I am to have such great people in my life and to be able to spend time with them on a regular basis; before school today made me realize this the most. I suppose it goes without saying that I'm going to miss French and Pencil Case over the break more than anything. But I'm also going to spend as much time as possible with the people who are still here and not dwell on my inner pain from the gigantic hole left in my life by their absence. Or something like that.

    We didn't have church today, amazingly enough. We were supposed to have this four-minute prayer service thingummy over the PA system. Yes, except that our speaker was turned off, which led to such hilarity as this:

    Madame: The radio is off! Oh, no! Paul, turn it on, please.
    Maggie: The radio, Madame? It's called a PA speaker.
    Paul: Shut up, Maggie, she's foreign.

    Of course, we watched Home Alone after this fiasco. I had a great time in the beanies with Van Chelsing, as usual. Talking about Billy Young and mean aunts and various evil plans to take over Notre Dame Academy. No, I'm not even joking on the last one.

    Van Chelsing: I hate my dad's side of the family. They're all such fruitcases.

    Me: Major crevices? God, that sounds so dirty.

    Anyway, between English and ICP, Betty Jean asked me if I had gotten the lovely candy canes she sent me through the mail system. I had not, so, during lunch, I took action. Meaning: I went to talk to Madame and casually mentioned the candy canes. She realized these would be the same candy canes she had in her mailbox this morning, so we went to get them, and had meaningful secret discussion on the way. Oh, yes, then I went to visit Van Chelsing in the library and gave her my mint candy cane. Partially because Van Chelsing is fabulous, but also because I wanted to say, "One candy cane for Glen Coco. You go, Glen Coco!"

    At the end of lunch, there was a lovely swing choir performance, which was depressingly devoid of Paul. Why, might you ask? Because ABC decided it was more important for him to take a "pop quiz" of holiday trivia. Swing choir was good anyway, sitting with Maggie and behaving groupie-ly. We decided, though, that our lives will not be fulfilled until we hear Paul say various words from "Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer" in falsetto. We were also plotting to be total Emily groupies when her solo came, but it didn't. Oh, yes, and then Schmidty told us we could blame her for being late to class, but you can imagine how well that went over with ABC, which is to say not very well at all. Oh, well.

    My day was also made complete by the sight of Stary in a Santa Claus hat. One cannot forget to mention Santa Stary. Or when Madame randomly pulled out two pairs of little-girl-shoes from her purse. Strange and confusing, yet completely entertaining all at once.

    12.21.2004

    Get Better, You Hot Sexy Mama!

    This is what it says on the front of the get-well card/note I made Van Chelsing during history. Well, not during a lesson, after I'd finished my test. Which I think I did well on (tiny voice: because I studied for history for the first time this year). I think the whole sophomore class just paraded into the library.

    I went to the Christmas play yesterday, to show some props for Van Chelsing's mad singing talent. Ah, such delicious times with Van Chelsing, Maggie, Vicky, David, Mr. Erik, everyone. Chels was having uberissues with her camera flash, and it would constantly not be going off when she wanted it to, so, to test it, she turned the flash on. She thought it wouldn't come on, so she held it two inches away from her face. So of course it went off, Chels went blind, and then we laughed our hot-sexy-mama butts off. Then Chelsea fell over. Later, Maggie bounced on her rubbery heels, Chels fell over again, Maggie had a party, David made us laugh, and my mother thought she smelled like a bar-rat.

    Madame: Don't you have anything more interesting to write about?
    Me: No. My life is very, very boring.
    Madame: So make things up!

    Pencil Case: Kellie, I swear on bitches and hos!

    Madame, in the hallway: Hi, Kellinka. (That cracked me up. Although I'm sure she's called me that before. Then we talked about how Pencil Case is hiding from me; which he is, in Mr. N's office, WTF mate?)

    Pencil Case: I don't know why Kellie gave me such a dirty book.
    Madame: I do.
    Me: (Speechless. For there are no words.)

    Today during French, Pencil Case and I took it upon ourselves to make a Christmas poster. Yes. We wrote lovely (read: threatening) things on there, and then Pencil Case stapled Kleenex on it as snow. I took it upon myself to highlighter all over it, so then we had yellow snow. Then I made an arrow and wrote, "Yellow snow. Or Pencil Case's boogers." Because I'm that mature. Anyway, Madame did not find the poster that funny, but just blamed Pencil Case, perhaps thinking the Kleenexes really had his snot on them.

    Madame: Pencil Case, you're sick. Get this snotty stuff off there.

    Yes, thinking about this whole incident gave me the giggles for about five minutes during ICP. I did a very good job of containing myself, though, or maybe Adult Hermione just thinks I'm insane and didn't want to say anything. Yes, the latter is probably much more likely.

    12.20.2004

    Bows in my Hair

    Right now I am in a happy mood, because I have lurvely Christmas bows in my hair that were on the wrapping to the fabulous gift Van Chelsing gave me (a French phrase-a-day calendar, which she really wanted to open but it was wrapped in plastic), and I got a 93 on my ICP test. A 93! I am amazed at my own brilliance sometimes.

    I've already made my New Year's Resolution. I'm not the sort of person who really tries to improve herself every year, so I've decided I'm going to teach myself a language. I don't know which one, yet, but I'm sure I'll be able to pick one. I'm not completely indecisive.

    Today actually started out horribly, looking back. The stupid boat came under the bridge, so the stupid drawbridge was up, and so I was stupidly a few minutes late for French. Instead of stopping at my locker first, I went straight into the room, where I discovered what used to be my desk had exploded, i.e., the table part of it had come completely off. Don't ask me how this happened, and instead of asking, I just had a minor spasm.

    Me: I hate public transportation! I hate drawbridges and I hate boats and I especially hate the idiot sophomores who took it upon themselves to shout the most idiotic things ever while the drawbridge was delaying us all!
    Madame: No, tell us how you really feel.

    During French, we sat in a circle and read out loud from the book. This was hilarious because the heater was growling at Maggie. Then Duct Tape and I wrote an evilly mean dialogue, and Pencil Case and Madame and I read Pencil Case's blog and talked about how it is full of lies and how pet mice are different than regular mice. I have never heard of people having pet mice, but Mr. Brooker says his children did, so we will just go along with that.

    At lunch, I desperately needed to find Pencil Case and tell him something I forgot by the next time I saw him. I figured a good place to look for him would be the French room, so I went in there and asked Madame if she had seen him.

    Me: Have you seen Pencil Case?
    Madame: No. Did you lose him? I don't think you lost him, I think he's still here.
    Me: I had to tell him something.
    Madame: Oh, okay. Well, when you find him, tell him I have more extra credit for him.

    On my way to gym, I saw Madame again. She told me she saw Pencil Case and told him, "Your wife is looking for you." I said, sarcastically as usual, "Thanks, Madame."

    I finally saw Pencil Case during gym, when I forgot what I had meant to say, and he told me all about how he saw Madame in the hallway and she told him, "Your wife is looking for you. She said (Pencil Case said she said this in a very falsetto voice), 'Where is Pencil Case? I need to see him!'. I swear that is what she said! And, get this, she had red and green bows in her hair."

    Maggie: Wow. Madame is like Santa Claus. Except, you know, prettier, younger, and thinner.

    Chelsea: My god! That's, like, Super Child Brain.

    Well, I'm off to actually use this study hall for what it was meant, i.e., doing homework. This way, I can go home and wrap my presents and go to see Van Chelsing in the Christmas play tonight instead of sitting at home, doing homework and laughing at how horrible Listen Up and the rest of CBS's Monday lineup is with La Mere.

    12.18.2004

    This Post Has Been Edited Several Thousand Times For Your Viewing Convienience

    Well, most importantly, Auntie K had her baby! Much excitement, and... it's a girl. A girl has not been born into my father's side of the family since Fio, and, yes, baby boys are exciting, but you can buy cuter clothing and shoes for baby girls. Anyway, baby girl has a name, and it is Ella, which is completely adorable.

    In other familial goingson, my mom is a mean lady. Last night, she and Das Vater watched Dodgeball without me, which is bad enough. Then, this morning, she wakes up, tells me about Ella, and then continues to say this: "Kellinka, honey, you need to pluck your eyebrows. You're going to look like this woman in Dodgeball who had these huuuge eyebrows! Yes, because of nuclear poisoning or something... she also had really scary teeth, but hopefully your braces will prevent that." Thanks.

    Okay, much later tonight, funny quotes:

    Me: Girly Sweater checked my mom out at Sentry! (Chelsea thinks he actually checked my mom out, as if he was hitting on her or something.) He checked her groceries out, he was the cashier.

    Chels: Garfield: The Movie sucks.
    Me: We saw it at the drive in, and we drove out.
    Chels: I would have driven right through the screen.

    Me, at dinner: Dad, blink. You look like the old men on Telemundo. (La Mere does an impression of the old fat men on Telemundo.)

    Me: When you make The Frater cry, you make the Baby Jesus cry.

    Chels and I continued to talk about people we hate, my embarassing nicknames, and she had quite a bit of fun with the AOL buddy icons/backgrounds. Chels has decided to call me Pooka, which is, of course, my embarassing nickname since approximately two days after I was born. Then we discussed the fact that this was the name of the cute, scruffy little dog in the animated version of Anastasia, and I reminisced about how much I loved that movie when I was seven and unaware of all the glaring historical inaccuracies. Plus, it was released around the time I went to Paris and there was that whole song about Paris, which is the only thing I can remember about the movie other than the dog and the highly awful accents. So, I've decided we need to find Chelsea a nickname that translates roughly to "cute, scruffy dog in animated feature made up of glaring historical inaccuracies."

    12.17.2004

    "Don't touch your faces!"

    Good times at the SMS Christmas program last night. Not even joking. I sat next to Mr. B, and we talked about why I like NDA, his breakdancing, and if I still remember all the sign language to "Silent Night". See, it is a grand SMS tradition that all the students go up onstage and sing "Silent Night" in sign language, once with words, and once without. I reminisced about when we would do the sign for "sleep" and the teachers would all say, "Don't touch your faces!" Betty Jean and I visited Ms. K, who is such a nice lady, and all the now-8th graders. Then we went to the auditorium-- I mean, multi purpose center, and talked about how weird her Spanish class is and how Erik doesn't know his drugs. Also, my parents are catty bitches about other peoples' children, which is hilarious. My brother made a whole choir go flat, Johnnie still has hilarious facial expressions, and funniest small-child dancing ever. Ah, yes, good times. Or maybe that was just the endorphins, since I came straight from dance.

    We watched Home Alone in French today. Madame gets so into it. "How could you forget a child?!" "That's how we're flying to Europe. Frau and I are going to be in first-class, and all the kids are going to be in coach." When Pencil Case and I visited her during lunch, she was reading this poem in French that we didn't understand a word of. Then she explained, "It's about two clams from the ocean who go to the funeral of a dead leaf." Lovely. Since this is my little French paragraph, I'd like to mention that I am for sure doing Jesus Shaves for forensics, which thrills me to pieces.

    Me: Where the hell is my family?
    Betty Jean: Well, part of it is over there.
    Me: Oh, good, they probably came in about eight cars, just to kill a bit more of the ozone layer.

    (The heat is turned up very high. I make my scarf into a noose and pull it tight.)
    Me: Maybe I should make myself just a little bit warmer so I can burn to death!

    Adult Hermione, handing back quizzes: Aaaand... Kellinka (that is genuinely the name I put on my quiz)!
    Me: Oh, god.
    Adult Hermione, laughing: You know, I've been waiting all week to say that.

    12.16.2004

    A Few Words.

    It's been a bad day so far. First of all, I would like to address something: it is possible for a boy and a girl to remain close friends.They do not have to like each other, they can just enjoy each others' company and have fun together. But, hey, this is high school, and therefore everyone must be dating everyone. I was going to say that the person I am directing this towards should know who they are, but I realized this can basically be directed to 98% of the student body of Notre Dame Academy. I think I am an old woman, since I tend to spend large portions of my day tsk-tsking at teenagers.

    According to Madame, if you rub a frog's belly it will fall asleep. She seems to think this is common knowledge, but none of us had heard this and so she was all appalled. When she explained this to us, she did impressions of the frog and talked about how we will have to try it this summer, and how it just leans back on the picnic table, snoozing away.

    During ICP, we had a sub, and so Jackie and I wandered the halls for the better portion of class, nearly getting caught roughly seventy five times. I also did the grapevine all the way down the second-floor hallway. We are rebels; Erik has deemed our adventures "escapadic". Stary just walked by and Van Chelsing and I waved and he gave us this wonky little peace sign with the hand that was holding his ginormous coffee mug. He also, according to Van Chelsing, nodded, and we both giggled. He also nodded to me on the way to gym, where we played lacrosse and I somehow managed not to be completely athletically dismantled.

    I don't think I am going to post during study hall unless something notable happens in the next few class periods, i.e., my impending nervous breakdown the next time I am forced to hear Christmas music. Which Van Chelsing just sang. Oh, this just in: I failed my math quiz. Yeah, the one I actually thought I did well on.

    I'm back. It's eighth hour and there is nothing new to say, so I'll just edit this post. I need to talk to G-Dawg about my forensics, but she has a class right now. I had fun in history today with Larry and Gavin.

    (Larry flashes the lights on and off.)
    Me, faux-dramatically: Larry, you're going to start a fire!
    (Gavin and I crack up.)

    (Gavin is having trouble saying the name "Julius Caesar" and keeps calling him "Julius Seizure." Later:)
    Gavin: So Caesar was killed in 44 BC?
    Me: Don't you mean Seizure?
    Gavin, laughing: F*** you. I was having a few issues speaking.

    Hmmm. This kid is listening to his CD player, which makes me wonder if it is possibly safe to whip my iPod out. I don't want to risk it. Anyway, a piece of hot NDA gossip for you all, which I'm highly doubting is true because I heard it from HR: Jake J. was expelled. Although I can neither confirm nor deny that at the moment.

    Fuggish Chipmunk is making an ornament on the other side of the library, and that really made me wish Van Chelsing was here. Not just so we could heckle Fuggish Chipmunk--- well, mostly so we could heckle alllll the preps in this study hall--- but mainly because I love my time of talking to Van Chelsing about nothing in the library, up until Pencil Case comes and whisks me away to have a little chat with Madame. This event has occurred the last two days, and I always walk away to algebra smiling because of it. It's so nice, just getting to talk about "deep", random things with Van Chelsing, and then with Pencil Case and Madame, and just thinking about it makes me a little bit happier. I'm going to go edjucate myself by reading some history books or something. Or perhaps just laugh maniacally at Fuggish Chipmunk's ornament, twice as hard so that it kind of makes up for the fact that Van Chelsing cannot laugh with me.

    12.15.2004

    Saga

    After school today, Pencil Case and I went to the French room to have another chat with Madame. We talked about Pencil Case's blog and other random things for quite some time, and then I looked out the window and saw my bus was still there, but it was getting late so I should run to get onto it. Well, once I got down there, my bus had magically disappeared! So I had to go up to the French room again and make eighty-seven dozen phone calls at the expense of the school. Then my mom finally said she would come pick me up, but she would only take me to her office. Before I left, Madame asked me numerous questions, which I answered with very long, boring answers, then I dashed out of the room, but not before she could say, snickering at me, "I'll see you tomorrow. Don't miss your mom or anything."

    I would also like to mention that Pencil Case called me "the white Amy Tan" today.

    It is rather tiring to live with my father. If you're not doing one thing wrong, you're doing another completely incorrectly (i.e., not perfectly.) Yes, he's choosing to ignore my current GPA, but has just chastized me for ignoring the dog. Who is sitting on the couch in the living room nowhere near me. Okay then.

    Roast

    Pencil Case is a funny boy. Today during lunch, I was sitting in the library, hanging out with Van Chelsing, and Pencil Case comes up to me: "Kellinka! We have to go run errands. Now." Well, when Pencil Case asks you to go run errands, you go, because you know it is going to be a fun excursion. The first part of this excursion was not so fun, because it involved Schmidty. Yes, we had to go find out Pencil Case's schedule, pronounced the fancy way, for the musical. Since I can't sing and will never be more than a lowly crew-er, this did not pertain to me and was not very intersting. Plus, the gigantic framed cruxifiction picture on the wall sort of weirded me out, since I am, as Saint Julia tells me every time I mention I've never been to confession and missed my own first reconciliation, A Bad Catholic.

    Then we went to find Madame. When I asked Pencil Case why we had to find Madame, he goes, "To talk to her." I asked what we would talk to her about, and he explained that she had four gigantic scoops of mashed potatoes for lunch. Yes, apparently this is a good reason to go have a little chat with her. Actually, every reason is a good reason, but anyway, Madame was not in her room, so Pencil Case decided we would spy on the teachers' lounge. See, they are very antsy about kids in the general vicinity of the teachers' lounge, and I said I wouldn't because I didn't want to get caught, which would involve punishment such as impalement or something equally horrid, like detention. Pencil Case said he would and that he would eat his own head if he was caught. Then, he pokes his head in the doorway and whisper-shouts "MADAME!" Then Madame comes out of the teachers' lounge and asks what we want. We said we just wanted to talk to her.

    Pencil Case: Why did you have four scoops of mashed potatoes for lunch today?
    Madame: Well, I made a roast last night, and I was going to bring it in for myself and my colleagues, like Frau, today. But then my husband's best friend came over, opens the fridge, and says, "What's for dinner?" and eats about half of my roast.
    Me, evilly: Why didn't you just kick him out?
    Madame: Because he's like family, I guess.
    Me: Oh, come on! We kick family members out of our house all the time.

    We also talked about why the musical is such a big deal whether Pencil Case thinks it is or not, how Pencil Case and I are both going to be famous, and Madame's dead pet giraffe that never actually existed. Also, Toe Touches came by and goes, to Madame, "Don't we have such nice freshmen?", but he quickly left the discussion because he just doesn't get the Madame-Kellinka-Pencil Case bond. Madame doesn't understand why Pencil Case and I find her so fascinating, but our lives are rather boring, so the most entertaining part of our day is definitely French class, which comes along with all the random and crazy things she tends to say, like her explanation for her four scoops of mashed potatoes, which Pencil Case says "were swimming in gravy." Yes, swimming.

    We took this sex/drugs/alcohol/whatever survey today. It was rather boring. I think that I will pop a capillary vein if I have to answer one more question, "I have never drank alcohol/smoked a cigarette/smoked marijuana/had sex/done cocaine/done 'club drugs'/you get the idea." The roast was a lot more interesting. Hell, even the cruxifiction poster in Schmidty's office was a lot more interesting.

    I think I found my forensics monologue, though, and that is happy. I might do a portion of David Sedaris' essay Jesus Shaves, which is one of the funniest things I have read in my entire life, except for... well, anything else by David Sedaris. That man is quite simply a genius. Except not as much of a genius as the combined epic genius of myself and Van Chelsing.

    12.14.2004

    I'm NOT Paranoid.

    Pencil Case thinks I am paranoid. Which I am not. And I explained this to Bet at lunch, and then she totally reinstated my paranoia. Thanks, Bet. Then I went to talk to Erik about classic literature. Pencil Case has decided he is on a first name basis with Madame, although I don't know that she's aware of this.

    During French yesterday, Madame said we could make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches if we found out how to say "peanut butter and jelly sandwich" in French. So I found out how to say it, and then I made cute little peanut butter sandwiches (I don't like jelly) on French bread, since our house is seriously lacking in Wonderbread. Well, by the time I got around to eating my cute little sandwiches-- I also gave one to Pencil Case-- they were simply disgusting. I can't even explain how bad they tasted. I mean, honestly, I expected better from the likes of Jif and Atlanta Bread Company. Then Pencil Case got Madame to say "we wish you a merry Christmas" in Ukrainian (although she wouldn't sing the song for us, because, as she says, "I don't sing"), and he made me look like an idiot by being such a believable actor. I also called him a "ho" very loudly, and Madame called me weird in her panicked rush out of the room, but now she won't admit that she ever did. Although my memory could be relapsing.

    So, other than that, today was fairly boring. I'm in an awful mood, which doesn't help anything, and my mother had to talk to my father about my grades. Although I think he's going to be nice about it and not take away my social life and leave my mom behind to blame his childhood for him. I'm going to go finish the email that Pencil Case demanded I send him.

    Chels, doing vocab after I got "croque-monsieur" right: Kellinka... just eat it!

    Betty Jean, out of nowhere: It would really suck to be Helen Keller.

    Well, this is about an hour and a half later, or some crazy number like that. I had to edit this post to explain the Maggie and Kellie Scarf-Tying Extravaganza, which is exactly what it sounds like. Then I had to talk about talking to Madame after school and reading this blog. Yes, we talked about such random and varied topics as how Madame thinks Pencil Case likes me ("Pencil Case likes you."), how Pencil Case and I are like a married couple, how "Kellinka" is so very Russian ("Kellinka. That's so Russian."), how I am a good writer, how I am going to be famous, how I am Madame's "ticket to fame", how "Don't Drink and Dye Your Hair" is funny, Super Brooker and his amazing flying, how they're going to come talk to Madame when they film my biography, how Madame will be an old lady then, and so on. It was fun. I like our little chats.

    12.13.2004

    I'm meeeeeelting.

    Van Chelsing: Hey, what happens when Frau melts?
    Madame: What?
    (Random Van Chelsing, Mags, and Kellinka babble-explanation.)
    Madame: Okay, run that by me again.
    Van Chelsing: Apparently, if you mention this one guy, Frau melts.
    Madame: What one guy?
    Me: I don't know. Billy Young or somebody.
    Madame: No, I think Billy Young is a Russian figure skater.

    Pencil Case: So, in Russia, does Santa ride a bear?
    Madame: Quoi? No!

    (Madame holds up a picture of mushrooms.)
    Maggie: I like shrooms.
    Me: Madame! Maggie likes shrooms!
    Madame: Kellinka, just be happy she doesn't know what else that means.
    Maggie: What?
    Madame: Maggie, just stick to your mushrooms.

    (Madame holds up a picture of a cow.)
    Me: Hamburger!
    (Madame, Van Chelsing, and I crack up.)

    Yes, then Pencil Case and I reminisced about his fleas, which was funny. Yes, although now we are wondering why Madame just randomly has a lint roller in her desk.

    ICP was a blast today. First, I was standing on a desk yelling at Jackie when Adult Hermione came in. As usual, she just laughed at me. And then, without even thinking, I put "Kellinka" in the slot for my name. I realized this about ten minutes after I handed in my quiz.

    Me: Oh, god. Adult Hermione? What did I put as my name on my quiz?
    Adult Hermione: (finds my quiz.) Kellinka. (Laughs at me.)
    Me: Wow, I really wasn't thinking this morning.

    Haha! The printer just printed David's poem out in Arabic or something! Bwahaha.

    12.12.2004

    A Lesson: Don't Drink and Dye Your Hair.

    Oh, way too much fun. Amy and Mom and The Breakfast Club. Shopping with Denda and Mere. Denda and Mere drinking. THE EPIC.

    Amy, on the phone with Liz: Mangers! I just love mangers.

    Amy, pointing to Judd Nelson on the TV: So what else was Judd Hirsch in? Oh, god... I dated myself.

    La Mere and Amy: Don't drink and lay down.

    Denda: Holy shit, what kind of car do you people buy? Goddamn it, where the hell is the lock?

    Denda: I only swear when I'm around you.

    Me: Hey, in France, Santa rides a giant duck!

    Me, mocking HR: Kitty, go get me a glass of milk!

    Me, mocking HR again: Kitty, go get me a glass of Stoli so I can drop it on Bressers!

    Chelsea: You sat on Kitty! You sat on HR's mom!

    Me: Go away, you sexual alien!

    La Mere is Elaine-dancing. Big Rita, our dog, jumped on her.

    Okay, Denda bought very, very red hair dye. And, so, when she put it in, she appeared to be bleeding from the head and the neck. And since she has been drinking, the hair dye is all over her face, and so I called her Mikhail Gorbechev because it looks like a giant birthmark. I also now call her "Gorby". Now the ladies are complaining about their mother's hair. It is fun. I have the giggles, and, yet, I am the only person here who has not been drinking.

    12.10.2004

    "If you don't quiet down, I'm going to snap you like a dry twig."

    Well, I suppose I should cover the exitement of the day at NDA. A certain Jake J. and Greg H. got into a bit of a brawl in the lunch room. Maggie knew, since this was all planned out. So, yes, they were pounding each other, all red faced, and knocking over lunch tables. They fell onto Pencil Case's lunch table, in fact, and apparently made sour cream go everywhere. Well, this was happening in the center of the cafeteria, and Brooker was out in the periphery by the vending machines. So what does Brooker do? Oh, yes, that's right, he jumps on a table, runs across it, and jumps to the next table, repeating this pattern until he is in on the action, restraining Greg while Toe Touches basically keeps Jake in a headlock. Oh, yes, so funny.

    Maggie: Brooker can fly!
    Me: Yeah, it was like... Super Brooker.
    Emily: I can just picture him with a cape and a big B on his chest.

    So, I hit Chelsey in the head and the elbow playing basketball in gym today. I would like to formally apologize. I have no athletic control skills. I am rather bored. Oh, yes, Pencil Case, Abigail and I decided to be disrupitive during lunch. Well, not really. Pencil Case insisted that we go find Madame, who wasn't even there. So then I was threatened by Frau, and we ran past Chelsea's study hall, said, "CHELSEA!" and waved. I would also like to mention that at the beginning of lunch, I walked into Chels's study hall, threw a note at her, and ran away. It was quite amusing for me. Now, on a regular day, I would elaborate upon these things and make them interesting, but, as interesting as I can make them, they will pale in comparison to the Lunchroom Brawl. On a normal day, I would blather on about how I am abusing the swivellness of this chair and how I switched shoes with Chelsea, which was a raw deal for her. We switched back, eventually. Well, actually, I didn't put my shoes on until I had to go to English, because I enjoy running about with gigantic holes in the bottoms of my socks; I really do.

    So, guess what? Miss Margo is shadowing me on Friday! Oh so exciting. This thrills me to pieces, in fact, because I love my Miss Margo. She is fabbity-fabulous, so fabbity-fabulous that she might just be too fabbity-fabulous to sit through theology. Just kidding. Athough Toe Touches entirely humiliated himself by trying to mimic a romance novel, which was just... ew. And also unneccesary.

    12.09.2004

    "It's not just a teen movie, it's a character study!"

    So, yes, La Mere and I are having our 80s movie marathon this weekend. We ran to Family Video and picked up Sixteen Candles, Pretty in Pink, and-- because it takes place in the 80s and it is one of Mere's favorite movies-- Fargo. We were disappointed, though, because The Breakfast Club was nowhere to be found. See, we are also going to watch Raising Arizona, but thanks to Betty Jean, we own that. So Mere went out to the grocery store, and comes back with a bag from Target. Oh, yes. And guess what is in that bag? A DVD copy of The Breakfast Club! Oh, yes, what a happy day. Yes, this is a classic movie, which I-- don't hit me, Pencil Case-- have yet to see. But my mother approves of my friendship with Pencil Case based on the sole fact that it is his favorite movie.

    Also, more happiness: my dearest Pencil Case has a blog, and Van Chelsing and I have decided we are going to rig his way into Mr. NDA contestantdom junior and senior year. Yes, and if our rigging doesn't work, well, we will just go on strike and let NDA lose the ten dollars we would so gladly be giving them by purchasing tickets. Yes, we have so many good threats, don't we?

    Even more happiness: Tomorrow is Fun French Friday! Oh, yes. For the Spaniards, Germans, Latin Dorks (haha, sorry Brigid...), Unilinguals, and non-NDA students among you, F-Cubed is a lovely tradition in which we spend the last half of French class watching kid-movies en francais. I'm sure I have explained this many times before, but I just took cough medicine, and so you all are going to listen to me, okay? Yes, right now we are watching Finding Nemo. And, in other French-class happiness, Madame told Pencil Case that she would no longer read my blog unless she had my permission. So I gave her my permission. Yes, Madame reading my blog is not so awkward anymore. This is because she compliments me on my writing and my sense of humor, and also, she is present for most of the things I talk about anyway. So, well, yes. Hi, Madame, you better be reading this. Also, your funny self should be leaving more comments! Anyway...

    I don't know if I want to take this survey thing the school wants us all to take, basically about sex and intravenous drugs. Yes, it will be 45 minutes of me filling in 99 blanks with the words "no", "I have no idea", "how would I know these things?", and "(blank)". I would fill them in with witty things but, to be perfectly honest, I'm not going to do that anonymously. Although, since it's anonymous, I could also just fill in all the blanks with dirty words. Hmmm, I wonder if B-to the R-double O-K-E-R has thought of that!

    Things I Learned Today:
    1. I still remember the Gettysburg Address from history class last year.
    2. I can't unwrap a Starburst with my tongue on the first try.
    3. Michael speaks.
    4. I have an actual talent for talking to adults. Well, most of them.

    I would also like to add that D called Stary "a little shit" the other day. That made me fall over into mad giggles. This is a very long post, all written under the influence of cough syrup gel tablets, just for your information. Go visit Betty Jean's and Pencil Case's blogs, and 80s teen movies, that was what I came to write about, and look at where we are now.

    Email is fun.

    Okay, so Pencil Case and I have way too much fun with e-mail. Really, we should get our accounts suspended for all the fun we have, because it's just way too much for this school. I might post some examples of our fun. Seriously, if fun was weighed in pounds, the fun Pencil Case and I have would not be able to make it through elevator doors sideways. Also, the paper here is really warm and nice feeling when it comes out of the printer.

    I would like to comment on how gossip explodes here. Okay, during church yesterday, a kid fainted. By the end of the day, I heard that he had a seizure and almost died. I mean, come on, people, keep it in check. If he had a rash, the next morning we'd all be abuzz with his diagnosis of melanoma. Maggie and I talked about this last night, and I used the same example. And, yes, it made me think of Uncle Buck: "Hey, Melanoma-Head! Here's a quarter. Go down to the subway and have a rat chew that thing off your face!"

    I would also like to comment on the fact that Mr. NDA is not sexist. Also, I think we should have a school-wide vote on this topic, since the show is not put on for the faculty, it's put on for the students. Also: it's a spoof, so everyone should just take it town a few. Although spending 15 minutes of French class talking about how stupid this whole thing is, and then Madame being smart? Yeah, that was almost as fun as the caviar!

    I had fun during math today. First of all, I *heart* synthetic division, oh yes. Then we were guessing ABC's age, and Brad was the closest. So he started to stand up to, I don't know, do a victory dance and HIS WHOLE DESK CAME UP WITH HIM because he was stuck in it. I almost died laughing. Then, during badminton, the birdie that Chelsey had hit smacked (well, smacked as much as a highly slow-moving birdie can) Beau in the head! Badminton is Pencil Case's calling, I think, he is destined to be a British geriatric man. Perhaps whilst he is still young, he should get working on his cricket career.

    12.08.2004

    Caviar.

    Well, first hour today was a highly evenful saga. First of all, Chels and Mags and I were hanging out in the French room, but Madame was nowhere to be seen. Instead, PREPS had taken over my happy place. Yes, but then Chelsea had a mucus laugh and she and I fell over laughing and scared them away, bwahaha. So, after that, we were kidnapped. That's right, Frau kidnapped us. Except that I am completely exaggerating. All the girls went willingly because she has a cardboard cut-out Ewan McGregor in her room, yes yes. So, Madame came back from her meeting, and "saved" us from having fun, mocking the announcements ("Remember to bring your pass, they make it sound like a rock concert!") and heckling Spanish Club.

    So, then we went to the French room to Be Quiet and Do Our Vocab. We also recieved Madame's version of The Talk, which is: "You know what it is. Don't do it." But guess how well we did on the front of Being Quiet and Doing Our Vocab?

    Me, pointing at the empty pack of Camels in the recycling bin: Oh, look!
    Madame: It's in the recycling. Like, "Hey, I'm killing myself and the people around me, but I care about the trees!"

    Actually, we did do our vocab, but we also talked the whole time, because someone (I believe it was Maggie) asked about the difference between French and American food.

    Madame, talking about fish markets: Well, usually the fish would die by the time you got it home.
    Me: Oh, that's uplifting!
    Madame: But sometimes it wouldn't, and it would kind of be flopping around while you were scaling it.
    Everyone: Ewwwwwww.
    Madame: You kids need to toughen up. How do you think chicken gets packaged?
    Kelsey: Well, it's not like you go find a live chicken somewhere, break its neck, and pluck it while it's still flapping around!
    Madame: My grandmother did that.

    Then we talked about caviar for approximately fifteen minutes. Pencil Case loves beluga caviar, which is apparently the most expensive kind and very salty. Yeah.

    Madame: Now I'm going to enlighten you on the right way to eat caviar.

    Pencil Case: The funniest thing Madame said all year was "potato!"
    Madame: No, I've said lots of funny things this year. Pencil Case, I'm going to tell you something, and I don't want to break your heart, but I'm funny. I don't even have to try to be funny, I'm just a funny person.

    And yet I still finished all my vocab. How does that even happen? Sadly, the rest of my day was not as entertaining. Well, except for Chelsea freaking out because Mullet Lady was at church.

    Pencil Case: So, Madame, what's the item of the day today? A piece of the Titanic?
    (Madame laughs.)
    Maggie: You know, she's probably smiling like that because there's a piece of it hidden away in the filing cabinet somewhere.

    Chels: I don't know. In the hall today, I heard Madame say, "If I woodchuck spoke German, what would it say?"

    Chels: Hey! You could be Van Kellsing if you wanted!

    Erik: ::pounces on my fleece scarf and immediately starts stroking it::. Oh, hi Kellie!

    So, yes. I love Pencil Case's new screen name with all my heart. It is a total shrine to me, this blog, and French class. Yay!

    12.07.2004

    Fancy Stickers.

    So, Pencil Case is funny. After our French test today (which was very difficult, even with Madame giving us all these shortcuts and reminders, and I studied rather extensively), he was chastising Madame about her "fancy stickers", because I guess he doesn't understand our extra-credit-sticker rules. Then, after our gym tests, he decided he, like ABC, had some right to read my notebook-journal where I reveal my innermost thoughts. Except not really. Half of the things I put in there end up on the blog anyway, except for the occasional emotion or bad piece of poetry.

    So, apart from the usual stress of my day, and the joy Pencil Case brings me, I got into a hilarious verbal sparring match with Toe Touches after I came late to theology.

    Toe Touches: Kellie, would you like to give an excuse as to why you are late?
    Me: Well, I have this locker where my friends and I put our coats, except someone thought it would be really cute to move my coat into another kid's locker, and I looked and I can't find it there.
    Toe Touches: You went through the personal belongings of others?
    Me: I did not go through their personal belongings, I opened the doors of their lockers, then looked for my coat without toughing any of their belongings.
    Toe Touches: You searched people's lockers without a search warrant from Mr. Brooker?
    Me: Yes.
    Toe Touches: Do two wrongs make a right?
    Me, quietly: No, but three lefts do.
    Toe Touches: What was that?
    Me: Nothing. I just want my coat back, can I please go check the Lost and Found?!

    Yes, I was very upset, verging on Jane Craig-ing and most definitely Death Glaring. It was completely ridonkulous.

    Hahaha, I can't believe I almost forgot lunch today! Okay, Maggie was talking about Paul's freshman ID picture and goes, "It doesn't even look like Paul, it looks like a fat, inbred cousin!" This made me laugh, and then I burped and laughed at the same time, which caused Maggie and I to giggle for quite some time. It was hilarious, and then Bet decided I have a laugh like a mass-murderer.

    Okay, third time editing this post. During world history, some stupid people brought up movie reviews.

    Random Person: Yeah, the movie ratings are always wrong! They gave Garfield a good rating!
    Me: What?
    Larry: Who's "they", Five-Year-Olds For A Better America? (Larry and I laugh hysterically.)

    12.06.2004

    Spice Girls! OMG OMG!

    Chelsey is right, we really should doubt Pencil Case's status as a boy, what with his Spice Girls obsession "back in the 3rd grade" (although he does own the Spice World DVD...) Just kididng, Pencil Case.

    So, yes, Madame now thinks my family is completely Ukrainian. We're not, but okay. Sometimes I get tired of being German and the 80 dozen other things I am, anyway, so I'll just go along with that. Or, you know, if she asks, I'll just bring up how Pencil Case is stalking her. (He's not. Well, to the best of my knowledge.)

    I think there are as many Christmas trees in this school as there are in my house. But these are tall and festive, and do not involve Das Vater being the Holiday Nazi and La Mere generally not caring. That's right, this year, my mother is devoid of holiday cheer, unless it involves alcohol and cookies. This might be because, as I said, my father is the Holiday (and Protein) Nazi.

    Today I realized that I need to stop being worked up about what people think of me. I was never, ever like this at SMS, but that may have been because I knew everyone so well by middle school and I generally trusted what they said about me or, in the case of Taywhore and Holicia, ignored it completely. But, really, I need to not care when people call me a "dumb bitch", because I know I'm not dumb, and the right people know I'm not dumb. And I am only a bitch when the circumstances call for it. Basically, the people who matter generally won't say those types of things about people they don't even know, and, therefore, the opinions of people who say those things aren't valid and they don't matter and they're just doing it from their own insecurity to lower the self esteems of others.

    Sometimes I feel way too much like Tina Fey's character in Mean Girls for my own good, and this is why I've started to surround myself with the people who do matter, Betty Jean and Van Chelsing and Angie and Maggie and Pencil Case. And I've started to realize that it's okay to be able to talk to adults about anything, from getting lost anywhere, or caring what people think, and I'm really lucky to have adults-- like La Mere, and Madame, and Senora G-Dawg, and Stary-- who are smart and who listen to what I have to say. So, thank you to all of you. I've decided I'm not going to focus on the negative things and people in my life anymore, and instead I'm going to surround myself with and be grateful for the positive.

    Wow, I went from extremely upset to extremely optimistic. I swear I'm not bipolar! I promise.

    12.05.2004

    Mairead Is Funny.

    Random hilarious things Mairead said today:

    "Grad bade." (Bad grade)

    "Ravish me, Julia!"

    "Saved by the Bell? Is that some wrestling thing?"

    "We bring you myrrh!"

    "It's like compacted, freeze-dried Kellinka."

    My father is a Protein Nazi. The Little Peeps section of my buddy list is extremely elitist. Really, you have to earn Little Peepdom. These are just random thoughts that pop into my head with very little plot thread, which is kind of what my day feels like. Except that my day involved many more cookies.

    12.04.2004

    Origins

    So, for French, our assignment is to find the origin of our last name. So, last night, whilst watching The Bourne Identity on USA, I oh-so-innocently Googled my last name. Which happens to be a city in Ukraine, and you can send flowers to the residents there. Or, you know, you can just get a mail-order bride from there, not even kidding. I was fiercely weirded out.

    Anyway, Mr. NDA tonight! I am very excited. Maggie lost her voice, but luckily escorts don't actually have to talk, just smile. La Mere, Fake Sick, and I went Christmas shopping for Das Vater, where I bought cute and cheap eyeshadow for the first time in about a year, and then we ate at Noodles. While we were at Noodles, they played a Rilo Kiley song ("The Absence of God"), which made me really happy. So, despite the fact that Vati is a boring person to shop for and I had to clean my room, I had a good day, which is kind of ca-razy.

    12.03.2004

    Icee!

    Right now I am eating an Icee. This is because I went Christmas shopping with La Mere tonight. We were supposed to buy gifts for Fake Sick, but we only bought two very small things. This is because we would rather look at shoes and make fun of each other and look at books.

    So, we ended our trip at B&N. I told La Mere about how Das Vater is upset that she "never buys bargain books" and she got mad and said she was only going to buy him bargain books for Christmas. Then this wrapping kid got very hostile with us when he said "Have a nice night", just because we did not want our imaginary items wrapped (we somehow managed not to buy anything), and I said "frickin'" way too much.

    We also went to Target and to Dick's Sporting Goods, where we bought the two gifts for Fake Sick. There I jumped on a mini-trampoline and La Mere and I called each other beeyotches and talked about Mean Girls and how I now lust after a black pantsuit. I also told her about how Senora G refers to herself as "G-Dawg" and says "wicked" all the time and calls Madame "Frenchie." I wish Senora G taught something other than Spanish, because I would totally take that class. Then Tom told "judge-flatulation stories" (another Senora G term).

    So, yeah, that is about it. Well, except for the biggest, best news of all! Pencil Case is going to be young Josh in the musical (Big) this year. Also, Maggie's sister is in it! Yay for this, because it resulted in this discussion.

    Me: Congradulations!
    Pencil Case: On what?
    Me: Have you seen the cast list?
    Pencil Case: Um. No.
    Me: You're young Josh!
    Pencil Case: Are you kidding?
    Me: No!
    (Pencil Case squeals and run-flails in the general direction of the cast list.)

    QUOI?!?!

    The cast list for the musical comes out today. Maggie is so antsy on behalf of her sister and it's really cute. I wish my brother were a good little sibling like Maggie who got nervous on my behalf, but instead Fake Sick just plays video games and says "WHAT? HUH?" when I tell him to get his underwear off the bathroom counter.

    Chelsea and I got the giggles so badly during Fun French Friday. We were watching Finding Nemo and laying on the floor (with our shoes off! Madame is the coolest, I am not even sucking up), and, as I'm sure you know, when you get the giggles laying down you laugh ten times harder than you would in an upright position. So, yes, Dory says, "QUOI?!?!" in this random and hostile voice, and that's the first time Chels and I lose it, because I keep repeating it. Then Bruce-the-shark says, "Saluuuuuuut" which also makes us laugh very hard. Somewhere during all this, Maggie decides that Chelsea is Dory, which she totally is, but Chelsea declares that she wants to be the bird that says "nice". Re-reading this, I think you had to be there.

    During English, Poppa G says he loves his freshman. We all said awwwwww. Poppa G is such a nice guy. I think I might "go to the bathroom" and see if the cast list is up. (This is somewhat helped by the fact that I have not a clue where the nearest bathroom is.)

    12.02.2004

    "Put that somewhere and keep it warm!" -Maggie

    French Club is so ridiculously fun. This is only partially because Maggie and I sit in the back of the French room, eating Krispy Kremes, heckling people, and adoring the way that Madame manages to illustrate absolutely everything using hilarious hand gestures. We also have discussions such as this:

    Girly Sweater: Nooo! We should have the Little Mermaid on our sweatshirts! And she can have a talk bubble and say, "I wish I could be part of that world." By which she means France!!

    Me: I think we should have Girly Sweater on all our sweatshirts.

    Madame: Well, this is the shade of red that the sweatshirts will be, and it's a kind of... cranberry?
    Maggie: No, no, cranberry has a few more... uhns.
    Girly Sweater: A few more uhns, that's the most educated thing I've ever heard!
    Madame: Well, the catalogue calls this color "red."
    Maggie: It's male cardinal red. There!

    Then we had French class, during which I nearly fell asleep despite Chelsea babbling endlessly next to me. (I had finished my work. We were in the bean bags. I'd had no caffeine.) Well, up until Chelsea decided I was an angry monkey and I decided she was a palm-tree-tipper. Which gave her the giggles all the way to English. Oh, there was also the incident of the flammable ornament. Pencil Case and I made an ornament commemorating Go Get A Drink Day yesterday, and he had to show it to Madame the minute she got in the room, but it was flammable and so she can't keep it on the tree because we wouldn't want to start any fires. Or something.

    Chelsea: Why be popular when you can be drama dork times 92 to the fifth dimension!?

    Adult Hermione*: Wow, these are so colorful!
    Me: Except for Duct Tape's!
    Duct Tape: Well... I'm a Goth.
    Adult Hermione: Yeah, Duct Tape, you look really Goth today.

    *During English, Brigid and I discussed how this is the most perfectly-fitting nickname. It just is.

    World history was also pretty fun too, because I basically got into verbal sparring, as I always do when we have discussion. Maggie, you'll be pleased to know that I vehemently fought with You-Know-Who.

    EG: He had Polio!
    Me, randomly and dramatically: He was in an Iron Lung!

    EG: Didn't he build the Hoover Dam?
    Mr. B: No. That was Herbert Hoover.

    Chelsea: Ooooh, my broccoli just did a break dance!

    12.01.2004

    An Announcement...

    For those of you who believed that Pencil Case and I were actually "going out":

    Haha. Just kidding!

    Short-Term Relationship

    Hi, everyone. Well, yes, my mysterious last post... Pencil Case and I were going out. For, well, a little over 24 hours. But it was sort of awkward being boyfriend-and-girlfriend and so we decided to still be just friends. No hard feelings, no one is hurt, and nothing ever says we'll never date again (not that we actually went on a date). And, of course, we told Madame first that we were going out, which was just a generally hilarious scene, so I'm going to write that out here.

    (We walk into the French room after school.)
    Madame, within four seconds of our presence: Oh my god, you're together.
    Pencil Case and I: Yeah. (We start laughing. Pencil Case goes to write on the board.)
    Madame: I knew it! I thought I was going to have to wait until your junior year. I was telling someone, "Those two are going to be dating by junior year."
    Me: Oh, gosh, who were you telling?
    Madame: I don't remember. Well, I'm very happy for you! See, French class has made so many good couples. (Pencil Case and I laugh.) No, really. Because if I see anything bad going on, I can crush it before it gets worse. I couldn't do that if you were dating someone who took Spanish!
    (More talking between Madame and I. More Pencil Case writing on the board.)
    Pencil Case: How do you say "corn chip" in French?
    (More talking. It's time for Pencil Case and I to go, so we leave.)
    Madame, as I'm leaving the room: Kellie, I'm going to read your blog tonight!

    Yes. General hilarity. I have realized now that Madame reading my blog really isn't very awkward at all, because she is present or hears about most of the things I write on here. (Like the story about how I gave Dave the finger while he was videotaping me on Thanksgiving.)

    During French today, Pencil Case decided to reach under Madame's desk and basically start fondling her foot. It was pretty interesting. (Actually, that is why we broke up. I don't like that Pencil Case fondles the feet of older women. Ha ha, just kidding!) Then he continued to ask her lots of nosy questions, about black and white pictures and her natural hair color. She was all fascinated by his bike-chain bracelet (thinking he had made it) until I told her he just bought it at Hot Topic, and she goes, "Pencil Case, what's a nice boy like you doing shopping at a Goth store?" Hee.

    We also talked about butt-washers. Van Chelsing was the only one brave (read: shameless) enough to explain, bluntly, what they were. Seriously, though, Angie and I used to get terribly giggly over butt-washers. "Hey, Kellie! Our hotel room, you have to see it! It has... A BUTT WASHER!" Hee.

    You know what I don't like? When I spend 2 and a half hours studying for a test, and when I start to take the test, I feel like I've studied for all the wrong things. And then I only get a C. That really really makes me angry, garsh. And that's about it for today, except maybe that I need a rhinoplasty because Egghead hit me in the nose during basketball.