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

1.27.2005

Happy Birthday, Maggie Dearest!

It's Maggie's fifteenth birthday. If you don't sing "Happy Birthday" to Maggie when you read this, I'll have to disown you as a blog reader.

This post is brought to you by the handy-dandy feature that lets one email posts to his or her blog. This is a very cool feature, because it works.

I went to school very, very early this morning to wrap Maggie's locker. See, Maggie usually gets to school rather early, so I figured I had to get there even earlier. Of course, though, this is the one day of the year when Maggie is later than usual. Anyway, Maggie's mumsy brought delicious cupcakes, which we ate in French.

Vocabulary quiz in French... oh man. I couldn't remember the word for shrimp, so I put down "des petits poissons" (little fish.) Then I completely didn't understand the fill-in-the-blank dialogue portion, but, after Maggie and I talked to Madame about how we completely didn't understand the fill-in-the-blank dialogue portion, I don't think I did so bad because, so long as it makes sense, it's not wrong. That was comforting. Anyway, in our dialogue, Chelsea and I are [this phrase has been deleted, as it is not for your eyes.]

English....other than totally bombing my test, I finally told the people who keep talking through my head to shut up. Then I went to ICP and thanked Adult Hermione for her excellent secondhand advice (which I heard on behalf of Mags and Chels.) She was so proud of me, which was hilarious. "Good for you! If I was your English teacher, I would have clapped for you, seriously. We need more kids like you, kids who tell rude people to shut up!"

Sadly, I can't even remember what we did in theology. Part of me is too tired, the other part just really doesn't care. During lunch, Maggie and I walked in a circle totally around the school, stopping by to ask Madame questions about the quiz. Then we helped Madame remember what she said we were going to do next week, I reminded her that my birthday is next Friday (hint, HINT) several dozen times, a la Maggie, and we watched Zoolander for a bit. Gasoline fights and eugoogolizers, woohoo.

Math was noteable because I actually understood it. Art was not because Barbie, for once, didn't say anything stupid. Pencil Case kept talking about why foreign people are funny and antagonized me, then he was amazed to find out that Johnny Cash was dead. After he asked me if Johnny Cash was dead, he said, "Oh my god. I'm turning into Barbie, aren't I?" I replied, "No. Barbie would ask, 'Who is Johnny Cash?'"

We got to watch a horribly boring Nightline tape in history. It was about conflict between the Middle East and the United States after September 11th, which would have been more interesting if it was not the same thing over and over again, and if it did not involve Tom Brokaw.

I would like to say somthing cryptic about last night's going ons that only Chelsea and Maggie will be clued into, but it would sound dirty, when it was really just me being sassy and confrontational. Moreso than usual, I mean, but I would have to say for myself that it was fairly awesome. Was that cryptic enough?

More importantly... Happy birthday, Maggie, my sick twisted evil genius obsessive compulsive mec. We should go raid the Purell factory and grafitti the bathroom walls with Marks-A-Lot in celebration tonight. (That was code-speak for "Maggie deserves a hell of a lot of cake.")

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