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


But my lips hurt real bad!

Wow, Chelsea and I had fun in French today, sitting in the beanies and quoting Napoleon Dynamite. Then we reviewed numbers, and class got very, very complex all of the sudden, particularly when Madame taught us what Pencil Case determined are crazy Russian math tricks that no one else seems to know. Anyway, since I enjoy tormenting myself by finding out what happens if I do badly on my exam, I did the math, and I can get a 50 on my French exam and still have an 88 for a semester grade. God, I am such a language dork.

Today is an excellent day grade-wise, because, somehow, I got 100 on my history test on Rome, an 88 on my math quiz, and an 88 on my ICP test. Wow, I am just phenomenal. Well, not really, but I have no idea how I managed to get 100 on my history test.

Except not really, because:
1. I missed my bus and was late for school.
2. Today was generally boring.
3. I lost my notebook that has all my writing for the novel (and deep personal thoughts) in it.

Yes, I am definitely stressing out about number 3 to an insane degree. I am so, so worried that: a) I will never find it again, or b) someone will read it. Today is not only sucky but grading-wise-fabulous, it requires too many lists. Pencil Case and I went scrounging for the notebook at lunch. No such luck, and it isn't in the French room, the safest place to assume it was. It could be in Poppa G's room, but I think I would have noticed leaving that behind there since I wasn't in a particular rush to go take my ICP test. Okay. I'm going to stop stressing.

Oh, I colored my hair last night. It looks pretty much the same, well, perhaps just a bit different. And that is all my excitement for the past two days apart from obsessing over grades, finals, and my missing notebook. I am such a loser geek.


Blogger Pencil Case babbled mindlessly...


I seriously am so depressed. I just accidentally erased all of my Poddington songs. I seriously hate myself.

:: Sob. Sob. ::

Kellie, I need psychiatric help for this mental breakdown of mine.

Oh. And apparently Allison J. think I wrote all of the horrible comments on her blog. She is a high bitch if that is what she thinks.

4:44 PM

Blogger Kellinka babbled mindlessly...

Allison J. is self-obsessed and just probably blamed you for her Personal Victimization since you were the nearest person.

I will help you through your psychological trauma.

5:00 PM

Blogger Van Chelsing babbled mindlessly...

I wish you much luck in the return of your journal/novel. I loved your Russian accents in English today.

11:50 AM

Blogger Kellinka babbled mindlessly...

Hahaha, Chellie, I am glad you enjoyed my Russian accents. And I STILL haven't found the novel! [Napoleon voice]GOSH![/Napoleon voice]. Anyway, I have it all saved on my computer, so I'm not stressing too badly.

5:14 PM


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