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


How Would You Address a Search Committee?

The last day before break is usually fun. Usually means, when you are not preparing to get in a car for twenty-five hours to spend a week with your family in a place you've already gone a million times. Thankfully, we have a DVD player. So I'm just going to watch great cinematic opuses (opi?) like Mean Girls and Sleepless in Seattle the whole ride down. Joyness. I also made a kick-ass mix on Poddly for the ride.

So many tests today. French, English, and I have one next hour in history. However, despite the test, French managed to be random and exciting thanks to my subconscious.

Me: I dreamt that I was at Charles-de-Gaulle and everyone was speaking French. Except I understood them. I didn't even realize it wasn't English until I woke up.
Madame: That's exciting!
Me: Then I dreamt that I was going shopping for shoes to match my handbag.
Madame: Well, of course. You love your new handbag. It's kind of a turquoise color, and small, and it's kind of a crocodile print. You got it at TJ Maxx last week when you went shopping with your mom.
Me: Did I tell you all that?
Madame: Nope, I had a dream.
Me: Are you serious?
Madame: No.

Oh, also, Madame was totally confused by her self-evaluation so Frau came bursting into the room and causing a Fraulike disruption. Just kidding. Frau is the coolest. Then for some reason, I was asked about a million questions for the evaluation, until I pointed out that it was a self-evaluation. Not, however, before I looked at the comments and saw that Madame had put down, "I am foreign." That made me laugh for a really long time.

Then ICP. I didn't feel like working on the lab because I am afraid to find out my percentage of error. Some people had, like, 47% or something crazy like that. So Jackie and I "went to the bathroom", meaning we wandered the second floor hallway and talked to fun people and waved to Spanish classes. Jackie makes me laugh.

Lunch was funny. I matched up people who should be dancing together and told Maggie a good story involving Paul von Halverson, who I decided was the president of Germany at some point. This made her laugh for a very, very long time. Then we listened to jazz band, and Big Ben singing excellently "New York, New York." Somewhere in there, Madame came and did that thing where she beckons me like I'm in trouble but really just has a grammar question.

Madame: I'm writing a letter to a search committee and I need to know how to address them.
Me: What?
Madame: I mean, you wouldn't say "Dear Search Committee." Would you say "Honorable Search Committee?"
Me: I don't have a clue. Maybe "Honorable Members of the Search Committee" or something. (Pause.) What made you think I would know that?
Madame: Well, you're a writer!
Me: Yes, but it's not like I write letters to search committees.

Also at lunch, Maggie and I were going to dance but instead went to hang out with the Chelsea in the library. So much fun, especially when Maggie sneezed and I had to get her crappy tissuey Kleenex from the conference room because the good Kleenex was gone.

Yes, good times. But these good times were followed up by more good times in art with Pencil Case. That boy makes my day. Rocky and Bullwinkle and octopi and Copacabana. Then I was chastized for having fun and moved back to my real seat for about the fourth time this week. Oh, and somewhere in there, Cow and Barbie said several moronic things, but that is to be expected.

So, I leave for Florida tonight. I love you all and I'll blog when I get back to school on Monday if I have the time. Have a good spring break/Easter break/whatever it is you're doing next week. Wish me luck in maintaining my sanity, also.


Fanged Hitler

Oh ho ho yesterday. It was a half day so Betty and I went to visit our old peeps at SMS. Wow, teachers are so much nicer when it's no longer their job to educate you and they've passed you on to the next level. Potato and Ursula both asked about my writing and Ms. K was just stressed about the seventh grade play, which has gone downhill rather like our seventh-grade play.

Then we ventured off to La Casa la Betty or however you'd say it. Betty's family is pretty much the highlight of, oh, my life. First we played snowboarding games on GameCube that I was not half bad at and then Little Buddy, Betty's sister and my favorite kid in the world, came home from school. We were all extraordinarily wound up. Betty was singing (much to the dismay of the rest of us), so I played with an egg from the fridge. Then Little Buddy and I decorated it for Easter for Betty. It said, "Betty's Easter Egg" with lots of gel pen flowers. I hope it gets rotten and that Betty breaks it, because that is just the sort of thing she would do. Then we almost killed the house and my tailbone with the big red exercise ball.

The point of the title was yesterday's history class. Clair got to be Hitler, so Chelsea and I taught her Hitler in sign language. Then she went up to the board and drew this hilarious fanged caricature of Hitler saying "Hitler" in sign language that I wish I could have taken a picture of. Also, Mr. Blaney lectured her on the proper way to draw a comb-over and threatened to keep us at school late so he wouldn't have to go to the meeting.

Happy Birthday to Poppa G! He is eighty today, and probably healthier than I am. Brigid brought very delicious brownies.

Then we went to church. Not fun at all. I had a migraine coming on and nearly passed out every time I stood up. Also, Chelsea was stowing away various things in her sweater that were really, really entertaining. At the sign of peace, we went to talk to Madame, who also looked like she was going to pass out, which is the joy of sitting in the back where there's no air but everyone else's recycled bad-smelling stuff.

Me: Are you feeling okay?
Madame: Hmmm... yeah, although (kidding slightly) you probably don't want to shake my hand.
Me: Thanks, now that I've already shaken your hand.
Madame: Well, it's not like I was going, *coughs and extends hand*.

In ICP we had the lab, which I messed up approximately eighty-six times. It took us at least five tries to light our stupid Bunsen burner, or, more appropriately, it took us until Adult Hermione came over and lit it herself. Also while we were trying to light the match, Lab Partner hit a beaker and knocked it over, which is when it broke. Oh, yes. Then we sat in our desks and talked about celebrity couples, including Denise Richards and Charlie Sheen.

Random Person: But they broke up while she was pregnant.
(This is all Adult Hermione hears:)
Me: Well, maybe he cheated. If I was pregnant and my husband cheated on me, I'd divorce him! Adult Hermione: (Laughing really hard.) That was the most random thing I've ever heard. Where did that even come from?!

Also, Jackie told me random and hilarious stories about her little sister's screaming bloody murder at lunch, and Betty and I went on a rampage. Not really. We went to my locker, but then she wouldn't bend her leg until I threatened to bend it for her. Bwah-ha-ha! Oh, and she walked into me because she didn't know I was going to stop walking. Good job, Betty.

Yes, that was pretty much my day. Random things and germs, which is every day in the life of Kellinka.


The Sweetest Thing

Well, today started out with dialogues in French and Chelsea giving me a playbill from Thoroughly Modern Millie, yessss. Pretty sure we kicked butt, even though our grades aren't in yet. However, we weren't nearly as talented as Paul and Maggie and their improvisation.

Paul and Maggie's Dialogue (A Rough Translation)
Maggie: We will serve a meal in one hour.
Paul: Fish! I want fish!
Maggie: We don't have any fish.
Paul: Why?
Maggie: I don't know!
Paul: (Random singsongy noises that don't mean anything.)
Maggie: (Bafflement.)
Me: Maggie, just ask why!
Maggie: Why?
Paul: Because.... because. (Laughter and long silence.)
Madame: Okay, Maggie, this is the part where you tell him to have a nice flight and politely leave.
Abigail: Leave the plane?!

Then I decided that Ariel is going to be a mime when she grows up, and we got approximately eighty-five new verbs.

ICP... oh my god, I have to do well on that test. I think I did okay, but, you know, with my "inconsistent effort", you never know. That makes me sound so bipolar, like one day I'm just stupid and I really want nothing more than to flunk, and the next I'm a brilliant scholar.

Lunch was very funny. First, I was deemed "the sweetest thing", yeah right, and then I went down to real lunch. We struck down Erik's masculinity and Vicky ate one of those pretzel bites even though it had a hair in it. I also crossed the lunch room approximately eight times to throw things away because I didn't know there was a trash can behind me, and then I got a paper cut, so Erik and I ventured to get a Band-Aid. Oh, also, Lunch Lady sneezed all over the cash register and Erik and I laughed very hard.

My feet barely touch the floor in this chair. How awesome.

Art was hellish but entertaining. I chose to sit by Pencil Case and Becky instead of in my assigned seat, which led to much hilarity. Pencil Case gave me a long, hilarious lesson about drawing eyes, the best part of which was, "And then you scribble, but you don't tell (Art Teacher's full name)." It was great fun until I was yelled at, and so I went back to sit on my seat next to Becky, where I doodled and wrote the lyrics to "O Canada" in my sketchbook. We decided that the next time Art Teacher yells at me, I'm going to say, "I'm sorry! I'm just confused, I'm from Canada!" This is because I randomly said I was from Canada and Becky believed me. Anyway, we laughed much harder than we have any right to in that stupid class because we just talked about random things and Pencil Case drew more insomniac showgirl eyes, as I called them.


Great. You're Dead.

Oh, today. I love Sundays now. I woke up at eleven and ate two bagels with the whipped cream cheese from a new container. One was purple, thanks to Sueann's Bagels and their food-coloring fetish. Yes, in their world, purple equals Palm Sunday or something. Then sat around for a good three hours until La Mere decided to take me to shop as we always do on Sundays.

First, to Target, pronounced my way, Tar-zjhay. I picked up the Moulin Rouge DVD on sale for a grand low price of seven-fifty so I can now watch it the whole twenty-seven hours to Florida and drive my family insane with the can-can music. Then I found Funeral by Arcade Fire on sale for ten dollars and bought that, also. It is very good and exactly what I was in the mood to listen to today.

Anyway, La Mere bought shampoo and toothpaste and other random "necessary" crap while I played with the blood pressure machine. Yes, I decided to take my blood pressure because La Mere had just told me approximately nine times in the four minutes beforehand that I had low blood pressure. As the blood pressure machine was pressurizing me, I read the tiny print at the bottom, which said that the machine is designed for people with arms nine to thirteen inches in circumference, meaning the old people who have flabby arm fat wings. Then my blood pressure came back to be 46 over 34 and La Mere pronounced me dead. She really did; she said, "Great. You're dead." Then I explained to her that the machine is designed for the flabby-winged and she decided that it's just because I'm wingless. That was the big escapade at Target.

Then it was off to Younker's for the thingamajobber something or other sale. First we looked at shoes, and I love having size six feet because it means I can just try on the sample shoes. However, sometimes the size sixes are too large which makes me feel miniature and sad. Anyway, La Mere got Franco Sarto something or others that are very cute and while she tried on boring pants and sweaters, I went to try on a very cute Rampage dress and got sequins all over me. Then I realized that, albeit fun, trying on dresses was pointless because I no longer have an event to wear them to until next year's Fall Fest.

On the way home, La Mere talked on her cell phone with Cindy and we all freaked out because the Weinermobile was coming up the street. La Mere was amazed that they were driving it on a Sunday, as if Sundays are devoid of weiners. Haha... dirty bad jokes... Anyway.

Then I made kick-ass flashcards for the ICP test that I plan to appropriately kick the ass of, because it's a must. I did this while I listened to the Arcade Fire and ate three bowls of Cheerios, yay indie bands from Canada and carbohydrates. Not only are these flashcards informative, they are also aesthetically pleasing. But all the studying and carbing up gave me a headache so I had to take some ibuprofen. La Mere probably blamed the headache on my deadness while I wasn't listening, which is all the time. In fact, you can blame the ibuprofen for the general insanity of this entry.

Chelsea's Ankle is Smoking Pot

The title of this was originally going to be Roxaboxen because I was just wondering if anyone but me remembered that book. Didn't think so. Other than Chicka Chicka Boom Boom and The Mitten, that was the book the librarian read to us in grade school the most.

Friday night, the Mags and the I went to the Chellie's for a Wallow Night. Good times. We laid on the floor in the dark, except for the heater that nearly burned my toes off, and sang "All I Ask of You", "All By Myself", "What Do You Do with a BA in English?", and "Wise Up", most notably. Then we watched Moulin Rouge, which was brilliant. I am actually going to go buy it at Target today so I can watch it on the way to Florida. Anyway, the smell of frosted animal crackers makes Maggie nauseous, and we're going to bring back disco. We also ate Fazoli's for dinner and I had at least seven breadsticks.

Saturday night, I didn't go to the dance like the loser I am, because I just didn't feel like it, and so instead I stayed home with La Mere and watched The Forgotten, which was fairly stupid. I didn't really like it, and not nearly as much as I'd expected to, considering how much I like both Julianne Moore and Dominic West. La Mere was deeply confused through the whole movie and I was just like, "Why is everything so blue?" I would not recommend this movie at all, every single scary part is in the trailer or is predictable.

Also on Saturday, I realized that my family is insane. We waited for eighty minutes at Texas Roadhouse. Willingly. Actually, everyone but me waited willingly. This is because I only like the hamburgers at Texas Roadhouse and did not want to wait eighty minutes for a tiny little hamburger. Plus, I hate the Roadhouse, and on top of all this, I had an allergy headache. La Mere and I ran to ShopKo for some ibuprofen and we saw a drunk man fall down, so we laughed at him. That was, however, the only good part, drunk falling man. We got there at 5:30 and didn't leave until after 8. All for a hamburger. I should have left and walked to Noodles and Company. Then, finally, after all this, La Mere realizes we could have called ahead. Which is a good idea, except that their "call ahead" is BS because you still get there and have to wait forever. Geez.

Five days until I leave for Florida, and, holy crap do I not want to go.


This is How Cool I Am

So, I am in my real study hall, which is luckily in the lab, where we have computers. Unfortunately, I was way late in getting here, because I didn't have a library pass. This led to me needed to beg Madame to give me a library pass, but she wasn't anywhere in a position to do so (as in, she was going down the hall to Brooker's office), so she told me just to go to the attendance office to ask where it is. Yep, that is exactly how cool I am.

Merci beaucoup to all of you who leave lovely comments on the fiction blog. And to Chelsea, who reads it all but is just too lazy. I have submitted to LitMag four times, how whorish of me, as much as Chels insists it isn't. I will notify you all on the slim chance I actually get in. Angie is the best commentor ever.

This computer screen is a piece of crud; it matches my mood, which matches the weather. However, I'm sure that tonight will perk me up much like my purchasing of a turquoise Nine West bag at TJ Maxx (also known as Mecca) for ten dollars did last night. Maybe it is just Friday that makes me feel down, or that I just came from a bitch of an art class and mortifying myself in front of roughly eight people due to my inability to remember room numbers.

I'd meant to ask for a pass at lunch. Really, I had. Somewhere between subtle comments about my height and having an allergy headache, I'd really, truly meant to, the way I do a lot of things. Loudspeaker announcements are stupid. I should familiarize myself with this room, I will be taking Comp Lit, also known as Exactly The Same Class I Took Every Year Since Second Grade at SMS, here next year. And why the hell is there a sink? My Sharona. Also, someone finally found a use for all those free AOL discs: decorating the Comp Lit lab.

AmnesiacMe cannot remember anything else that happened today. Dialogues are a bitch, calculating grades for English is a bitch even when the grades are A's, ICP is definitely a bitch, open-book tests for theology are not, rising pollen levels are, however, you get the idea.

Actually, I spent most of English looking through my notebooks for some last-minute Litmag submissions. All my truly good stuff is far too personal. I wish today would just get over with so it could be tonight.

Spastic Study Hall Supervisor: Is this in German?!

Have I mentioned the time in French where we antagonized Madame so much about what car she drove that she finally exploded and said, "FINE! I DRIVE A BLACK TRUCK!" Good times, good times. Even better times are when Chelsea, and Maggie, and I were discussing this at Max and Erma's, and Chelsea goes, "But how can she even see over the steering wheel?" Yep, that is my revenge for not getting a library pass, Madame.

Brownie's voice on the loudspeaker just scared the bejesus out of me. She is a funny lady and randomly knows who I am.


If you weren't real, I would make you up.

Wow, I have not updated in about two days. I guess that is how the cool kids do it or something. Actually, I have just been too tired because I'm all congested and sneezy thanks to our current weather being in limbo between winter and spring and the rising pollen count. Yay.

Yesterday in French, we got a concise history of Russia, courtesy of Madame. It was actually really interesting, and I am not just saying that. I can probably contribute something of my 103 on the history test to that, also. Actually, that is just probably due to the fact that I am a Russian Revolution dork.

Anyway, I just learned that grade reports probably won't be coming home until spring break, which warms the pockets of my cynical little heart. And I finally got through to stupid Apple about them fixing my AC adapter, geez Louise.

Chels has been at school all of this week. That makes me so happy, you have no idea. She and Pencil Case and I are going to have the most kick-ass dialogue for French, also. It involves going to Quebec, Celine Dion, and singing the first line of "My Heart Will Go On" en francais. Oh, and knowing them, we will probably have to talk about Pokemon or something somewhere in there.

Today in theology, I randomly got all mad, as I often do, about the topics of censorship. It's not the government's job to tell you what you can read, write, or watch, nor is it the Vatican's. I think that, if necessary, things should bear warnings, but, in the end, it's your decision. If you're over the age of 18, it really should be your decision what words you get to hear on TV, not the Pope's or the President's. Also, people who want the government to control what is said and shown on TV should shut up. And I don't care about what-if-your-children-see-it, it's your job to supervise your children's TV habits, not the government. I can understand blanking out certain words before 9 o'clock on local TV stations, that is reasonable, and including warnings with TV shows. But I don't want to hear about how terrible this special on CNN was last night when it was your decision to watch it.

Anyway, Madame and I had a very good conversation about that at lunch. Then I helped Ariel, and then Kelsey and I had to change the board about three times. No proofreading, but I did correct quizzes, and we talked about hair like the girls we are. Then I sat in on hour 5B study hall with the Stove for a bit and showed up really, really late to Algebra, with a pass courtesy of Madame. Which was nice, missing about 10 minutes of Algebra for no reason, except that ABC made bitchy little comments about it.

I've been writing a lot of poetry lately for one reason or another, which means it's time to check out the fiction blog. I've been kind of focused on the concept of home lately, which is interesting.

Chelsea: Your mom is, like, the coolest woman ever.

La Mere: She's a witch with a capital B. She got a frickin' woody over it.
Me: Oh, god. Mom. That isn't biologically possible.

Me: Woo, Emily! You're authoritative today!
Emily: Who said that?!
Maggie: It was Kellie.

Me, going up the stairs: Hey, Frau.
Frau, going down the stairs, in a singsongy voice: Hello, my dear!


Pencil Case: I'm 1/2 Irish.
Me: I'm 1/8th Irish.
Madame: I'm not Irish.
Me, sarcastically: Wow, I wouldn't have guessed.


Chilly Willy

Oh, my. What a day. First I go to French, of course, where it is absolutely insanely freezing. This is because the boiler broke and, as usual, the posessed window had opened in the middle of the night. Madame was all upset and so I got to proofread her very stern e-mail and then thanked me and wondered what she would do without my brilliant grammar skills. My partner in text-reading, Chelsea, came along for fear of feeling lonely, which is when this conversation occurred.
Madame: Yeah, I almost got a student discount until they asked to see my card!
Chelsea: You could have just mugged someone for one.
Madame: Yeah, I probably could have, but I didn't. I was 5 months pregnant at the time.
Me: That would have been amusing, though.

Off to English for the receiving of research papers: I got a 95! On a paper I threw together in two very, very stressful hours, after which I was just completely glad it was over, and all that got me a 95! I am obviously magical, like my sneezes, which people are so fascinated by. I should just sneeze and speed-write research papers for a living.

Adult Hermione was in a very nutty mood in ICP. She was proving things to us and talking about how much she enjoyed playing with mercury in her childhood, and then Weird Kid just pulled these random things out of his bag (I have no idea what to call them, because I don't want to call them balls despite that being what they were) and Adult Hermione said, "You know, I think I should probably report that to someone!" but was really just greatly amused.

In theology we talked about Homeward Bound and lunch was hilarious. Chelsea and Brianna and I talked about ice cream trucks, but then we got kicked out of the French room. However, I got to go back to administer a vocab quiz to Maggie, and then Madame made jokes at Maggie's expense, which made me laugh very, very hard. Then we talked about my "job" for next year. Also at lunch, Chelsea and I ran into Kayleigh! This was an exciting event. Chelsea "froze" her and I asked for her autograph totally randomly, and then we chatted it up a bit.

I've started keeping a personal journal again; I've been kind of lazy about that lately. All I ever write is fiction stuff and this blog; so last night I started recording my innermost personal thoughts so I can look back when I'm an adult and wonder what was wrong with me.

Urgh... last night... Honors Banquet. So unbelievably boring, albeit with very good brownies. Oh, and Girly Sweater being nutty with the fruit. First he wanted me to wear a pineapple top on his head, and then he took the orange halves and made a whole orange, after which he said to a random passerby, "Look! I made an orange! Half an orange plus half an orange equals one orange! I'm a scholar!" Also, I tried on Chelsea's shoes which were roughly 7 times the size of my feet and random waitresses popped out from the curtains and scared the bejesus out of me while I was walking in said shoes.

There is an issue of People magazine on the shelves in the library with the word SEX prominently displayed. With Bruce Willis, who I'd never personally thought the word SEX would accompany. And they got this week's issue of Entertainment Weekly, which I did not get yesterday-- thanks a lot, Postmaster General.


Make Yourself Useful

Paul: Well, Maggie's all like, "I'm bisexual"!
Me: She didn't say that. She said she had a crush on a bisexual cartoon character.
Maggie: I never said that (ABC starts to walk into the room) I'm bisexual! (Maggie realizes that ABC heard nothing but "I'm bisexual.") Oh, crap! I didn't mean that!

Poppa G: What would you put down for something that's sacrilegious?
Chelsea: I put down Jesus Action Figures.

Me, to Gross Canoodling Couple: Leave a little room for Jesus!

Rather boring Monday with a lot of the usual. 100 on French quiz, 65 on ICP quiz, humiliating myself, the usual. Pencil Case told me a funny story about Spanish punks and their "boot verbs" and G-Dawg was our art sub. I am losing my voice; I sound like that woman from that smoking commercial a few years back because phlegm is a bitch.

Most Americans don't know the words to the national anthem, how sad is that? I'm sure that a large percent of the Canadians know "O Canada". However, I still don't know anything but the first line of Notre Dame's little ditty that we were supposed to get sheets of at the game.

I should probably tell the hat story. I can't remember where I read it, but it made Chelsea laugh very hard. Anyway, this old guy is looking through his ancient luggage and he sees something that looks like a cookie. He takes a bite and realizes it is a felt hat he used to have. But it tasted good, so he ate the rest of it anyway. The End.

Yesterday my father was trying to take advantage of my half-voice to talk me into putting Elmo, my childhood stuffed animal, into one of those stupid acrylic Beanie Baby boxes and putting it on display.
Das Vater: Seriously, Kellinka, when the Pope dies, they put him in a really nice see-through box for everyone to see.
Me: They did that with Lenin, too, Dad. Scary Dead Lenin in a Box.

Stupid honors banquet tonight. Uggggh. Apparently it is three to four hours of watching people shake hands and then waiting for the stupid chocolate fountain. I am going to bring a camera, for blackmail purposes or in case anything amusing comes about, because I am cool like that. Plus, I told G-Dawg I would take a picture of her if she came, even though she is not coming because she doesn't see a point in three hours of hand-shaking. Smart lady. Hopefully I'll sit by someone worth talking to and there will be good food and people I hate will wear mockable and hideous clothing. I am shallow.

European toilet paper + Maggie + Wheat Thin = hilarious.

Me: Was that a goose sculpture?
Maggie, after laughing at me because it is only some weird metal thing: Why would there be a goose sculpture in the middle of a cow pen, Kellinka?


What a Feeling!

A quick overview of the weekend's events: NDA girls basketball goes to semifinals, wins, that was Friday. Also on Friday, insanest bus ride home ever. Saturday, La Mere and I went to Mad-Town for the state final game with Mags and had a hilarious time. The team lost, but, ultimately, we won because we had Mexican for lunch and went shopping. We are bad fans. So, here is a list of the insane/hilarious things that happened.

  1. Maggie falling onto the floor FOUR times on the bus home on Friday. Once because she had to tell Bond he looked like the Unabomber, once because she thought a flimsy tray table would support the weight of her legs, and twice because... well... I'm not entirely sure what those were about.
  2. Me, to Nasty: Someone in my math class told me to ask you about your grandma.
    Bond: Oh, no no no. Don't even GO there. No. Just no.
    Nasty: I NEVER saw my grandma naked!
  3. Parking garage hell.
  4. Smoothie Mix Skittles! "I wonder where that word comes from, Skittle. Is it like scuttle?"
  5. "Is that a goose sculpture?"
  6. Circle of Truth conversation on the bus ride home.
  7. Extremely gross dog vomit and bizarre attempts to clean it up.
  8. Singing "Amazing Grace" on the bus home and being told to shut up: "You shut up! We're singing the good graces of God!"
  9. The creepy people at the game handing out Heaven or Hell brochures.

Yeah, it was pretty much the funniest weekend ever.

[On the way home from church today.]
Me: We do have really good wine. It's not like the wine at the Abbey. The wine at the Abbey tastes like motor oil.
La Mere, sarcastically: It's not wine, Kellinka. It's the Blood of Christ.
Me: Fine. The Blood of Christ at the Abbey tastes like motor oil.


Immigrant Song

Oh, lord, "Immigrant Song" by Led Zeppelin has been stuck in my head all morning. Except not the real version, the one with Jack Black singing it in School of Rock, which is rather bizarre. Although I absolutely love that movie; it makes me think of my cousin Nick and good times with Betty.

I am now somewhat blonde. Well, that actually depends on how you look at it. My hair is now either dark blonde or really light brown. And, yes, that did require color illustration. La Mere and I underwent this change at roughly 10:00 last night.

Yesterday, we learned some great stuff in history. Well, we basically learned the names of Mr. Blaney's siblings and their birthdays, and then we learned just about the best piece of information that has ever and will ever grace my ears... drumroll please... Madame was Miss Ukraine! That was just about the best thing I've learned all year in any class. Well, probably not the most useful thing, but definitely the most entertaining.

Actually, that was the best thing I'd heard all day until Chelsea told me about her mom's "little Applejacks" theory. Those two are now tied for best thing I've heard all day.

So, things are better and I'm glad they are. The whole situation was really, really stupid and we all got way too emotional and blew it out of proportion, especially me.

And, yay, going to Mad-Town for girls' varsity basketball State today. Even though I hate watching sports, it has the potential to be a lot of fun.


Damage Control

I am not going to talk about the stupid and unimportant parts of my day. I am too reasonable and nonconfrontational for that, or at least I am trying to be. And if one person leaves a comment on my blog involving the mess that has become the freshman class act for Cabaret Night, it will be deleted before anyone gets a chance to read it, because I am done running everyone else's damage control and trying to be reasonable. I'm not the human equivalent of Switzerland.

Pencil Case: Does your computer have a name?
Madame: No.
Me: My computer is called Libby.
Madame: My computer is called Broken.

Gina: The play we're doing is Can't Take it With You and it's written by... um... [random names].
Tom, randomly and sarcastically: I love their work!

Gina: So, you only get to miss set-up and take-down if you have a good reason. Like being dead.

Anyway, French was fun. Madame and I compared international flights, and airlines, and discussed why Chicago-O'Hare sucks for international travel. Then Pencil Case and I tried to give Maggie 80s hair, and that wouldn't work, so I made myself a lovely side ponytail. Yum.

Adult Hermione is convinced that I don't have a textbook, when in all actuality I am just too lazy to carry it around when there are extras in the room. I got 100 on my first Mr. Blaney history test, which was not much of an accomplishment since it was basically the worksheet he'd given us. Anyway, Russian Revolution and totalitarianism next! Yessss!

We sold our 450 tickets, so we don't have school Friday. That is pretty cool. Actually, it is cool and it means we have no "pop" test on completing the square in Algebra.

Le sigh. I miss Chelsea.

Lunch was fun today. I hung out with Kelsey, making flashcards on the crapalicious chopping board, and we helped Madame pick out clothes. Oh, and not going to the class act meeting, because my spidey-sense alerted me not to do so.


Sonic the Hedgehog

Last night was greatly amusing. La Mere vented to me approximately eight thousand times and told me all the evil, terrible and mean nicknames she has for people at our church. I think that she and Mr. S come up with all of these while they are at dinners, because they are, you could say, easily distracted by opportunities to mock people they dislike. I believe Das Vater is also in on this, but he is not quite as witty as La Mere and Mr. S.

I also made delicious fudge brownies from a box. I am going to make them again soon for all my peeps to prove that I am really not as culinarily deficient as I have perhaps led them to believe. Also, Pencil Case, Mags, Chels, and I had a big discussion about CounterfeitMini.org, which is so strange because we could not tell if it was real or fake.

Today began terribly. I was about thirty seconds away from missing my bus with my hair looking like crap and no makeup on except Chap-Stick. I'm sure I only exponentially decayed in my physical attractiveness as the day went on, but enough shallowness. Then I get to school, buy my ticket for the state game and the bus down with Pencil Case. While we are in the office, we overhear that Madame is not going to be in today. Bitch, please.

So, Chelsea and I talk at her locker about how badly we don't want our sub to be French Frye for about fifteen minutes. Then I ask Frau to be our sub because she is about eight thousand times better than French Frye. She tells me to be nice, and then I sulk off to French class. Luckily, we had the best possible sub, Mrs. M. Unfortunately, we had, um, approximately 86 dozen million exercises. Anyway, then Chelsea and I noted the lack of French Frye for Frau afterward, and Frau said that doing lots of exercises puts hair on your chest.

I managed to get a 77% totally guessing on my English quiz today. I didn't read the selection, just skimmed it, and I still got a 77. Oh, and thank god for Poppa G's grading method. Adult Hermione made fun of Colin for being slow in ICP. Oh, and Erik is an ATM.

Today needs to be over faster. I wish the library kept copies of old yearbooks, I really could use a laugh at the expense of people's bad haircuts.


Yes, Pencil Case, I do update.

This weekend was pretty much the most entertaining thing of my whole life. Betty's parents were going to a concert, so she got to live with us from Saturday afternoon until this morning.

On Saturday, we sat at the dining room table eating almost a whole dozen Krispy Kremes, and then we went to Noodles to meet up with Lesley, Amanda, and Erin. After that, we all headed off to Mr. Green Bay, where we ran into Erik, Liz, Chelsea, Bet, Elizabeth, Jacob and approximately 87 other people we know. It was a hilarious good time, and my life is now complete because Chickpants: a. waved at me before the show, and b. took off his shirt and did not put it back on for quite some period of time. Yum.

Anyway, after the show, we ran into certain people while we were chatting with Chelsea, Bet, Elizabeth, and Jacob. No one was talking to them, so they came and said "hi." We all said hi, but said nothing else because there was nothing to be said. Then one of them randomly blurted out, "We're going to state!", not mentioning for what. What a random way to start a conversation. Then Chelsea cracked up, which caused the rest of us to crack up, which led to them walking away and feeling socially ostracized.

Then we went home and watched America's Funniest Home Videos with La Mere and made fun of people who fall down. Then we watched the brilliant Emily do a fabulous rendition of "The Star-Spangled Banner" on the Telethon. Then we watched Elimidate and Betty fell asleep practically eight times.

On Sunday, we were really over-tired and laughed at basically everything. The funniest thing was, though, when my parents went to the grocery store and Betty, as usual, wanted popcorn. That girl is a human popcorn machine. Anyway, somehow she got this idea in her head that popcorn needs four minutes to cook, when in our microwave it only needs two. She also has never discovered a popcorn button. (See: New Year's Eve.) Now, I stop the popcorn with a minute left and Betty takes it out. Of course it smells terrible and it's smoking all over the place, so I bust out the air freshener. The best part, though, is that Betty still thinks the popcorn is going to taste good, so she puts it in her mouth. It starts to hurt, so she spits it out and goes to drink some water as my parents walk in. Das Vater was in a terrible mood and asked, "What's burning?!" We start to laugh, which only gets us in more trouble. Anyway, Betty and I are sitting and trying not to giggle for about half an hour, until she finally says, "I swear to God, all I ever do is come over to your house and burn things!" and she and I crack up maniacally.

Also on Sunday, we made a lot of medical release form jokes, I napped while Betty spend two hours doing algebra homework, Ricky said stupid things that had nothing to do with the conversation, and we asked my mother about the term "fuff" and whether it was a figment of her imagination or not. (I think it was, but La Mere can't remember.) We also talked about how everyone thinks we're Ukrainian, including people who may or may not be speaking English, and La Mere told her favorite Drunken Cruise Stories.

During French today, we rewrote our ten sentences for the THIRD time. This is getting unreasonable, really. We also had one of the evil irregular verb quizzes where I randomly put in the wrong pronouns for two questions. Oh, and then I had a random giggle about pink fluffy shoes.

I didn't read the selection for English. That is because I am cool and have already read To Kill a Mockingbird seven times and still managed to get a 90 on the quiz without reading the assignment.

In ICP, Adult Hermione declared, "Cross-country is not a spectator sport. And neither is golf."

I spent most of art feeling retarded. First we were naming all the James Bonds, and I was the only person who remembered Timothy Dalton. Then we were discussing who should be the next James Bond, and I said Clive Owen, and no one knew who he was. I guess that means I get to keep his hotness alllllll to myself. Then we had to do blind contours of our shoes. We had to take them off, and I was wearing my brown leather knee boots. I felt totally awesome. Then, in the middle of my blind contour, the freaking shoe fell over. Also, my blind contour of my hand looked like a chopped off baby dwarf hand.

Go check for new things on the fiction blog. There's practically a million. By which I mean, two or three.


Ambulatory Vehicles for Children

The title is all Poppa G, using a much smarter way of saying "stroller" or "buggy". He also said, in reference to the class next door making a lot of bumping noises, "Wow, it sounds like they're learning a lot. They sound like the world wrestling league competition." That made Chelsea-- who is back-- and I laugh very hard.

Today before French, Frau and I had a discussion about DDR and eras.
Frau: Is this French rap?
Me: Yes, unfortunately enough.
Frau: Wow. That's almost as bad as German rap.
Me: I found some German DDR techno online and was going to download it.
Frau: DDR?
Me: Dance Dance Revolution.
Frau: Oh, yeah. Duh. See, when people say DDR, I forget that they're not talking about (German words), which was East Germany. So then I come back to the 2000s or whatever we're supposed to call them and realize we're talking about a game. Hey, what are we supposed to call the 2000's anyway?
Me: I have no idea. I just refer to it as "now" or "recently", usually. Once in Poppa G's class, someone said "olden times" and he said, "What is that to you, 1988?"
Frau: It's probably, like, 1992. What year were you born in?
Me: 1990.
Frau, laughing very, very hard: That's the year I graduated from high school!

Anyway, then in French, we got in trouble for people being dirty and we had to rewrite all our sentences, which meant no Fun French Friday, which is only slightly less than the two minutes of F-cubed that we had last Friday, when Madame forgot. Then Madame and I had this big discussion about the most appropriate word for the imperative from of vomit, because the one 501 French Verbs suggested was not quite right. Anyway, Maggie and I got away with only slightly less than what we originally had. It turns out that long-lost fathers are not taboo.

Also, Madame took away the picture I took of her at the musical and its double.
Madame: Oh no no no no. No! Nobody can see that! Ever!! (Hides them under the desk calendar.)
Me: ...but... I need those! For blackmail purposes! Really, I'm kidding.
Madame: No one should take pictures of me, ever!
Me: Well, I paid for the film and paid to have them developed!
Madame: Fine! (Gives me fifty cents.)

When I asked her what she did with them later, she claims to have shredded it. Then I had to look through her grammar in recommendation letters and administer quizzes about things I haven't learned yet.

Anyway, I have my pictures from graduation, Sweetheart Switch, and the musical developed, which is exciting. Also, Betty is living with me from tomorrow afternoon until Monday! Yessssss! And we're going to Mr. Green Bay with Lesley tomorrow night. I'm so excited.

So, this thing we're doing for art. I really hate the way mine looks, but Art Teacher liked it and so did Chelsey. So maybe I don't like it just because it's a pain in the butt, it's due on Monday, and I still have to finish half the background.

Maggie is going to have Erik's babies (Maggie just declares this randomly to Erik very often), but, regardless of this, they claim they will never be a couple. I think they'd be a really cute one, but I guess they're just going to share the sex act and make adorable, smart, funny children, and not get married. This is what they explained to me in lunch line, at least.

Pencil Case, I hope you start to have a better day. Unfortunately, we cannot go to Noodles because La Mere and Das Vater are going out on- ew- a date. La Mere says she would love to go next Friday, however, if that works for you.

Today after school, Chelsea and I went to talk to Senora G about the next time I can practice my forensics and deep things like marriage. According to Senora G, love lives are over-rated and, when you're an adult, you just end up getting married to someone who you aren't necessarily in love with but like and can stand to live with. God, I hope, although it truly doesn't feel like that now. In other love life news, story of my life, although I'm really not as cute as the cat.


"Well, I Destroy Them."

Today in French, we were assigned a project to write ten sentences with a partner about this random picture in our textbooks. Maggie and I paired up, since Paul, Maggie's usual partner, and Chelsea, my usual partner, were both out sick. There was also a contest aspect, and whoever can come up with the most creative sentences gets a prize. Here is just a sample of the things the magnificent story invented by Kellie and Maggie involves: transexuals, long-lost fathers, CIA operatives, and bad fish. Also, we went off on long spasms of laughter, like when Maggie had an overload of L's, or when she kept singing gay puppet sex showtunes.

Then off to English, with the amazing two-hour-super brain kiddo paper. According to Madame, Poppa G says I am "a good kid". Anyway, that man makes me laugh so hard.

In ICP, we got our tests back and Adult Hermione let us in on how she disposes of our tests so that we don't copy them for next year's classes. "Well, I destroy them," she said, very calmly with an evil laugh.

Lunch was crazy. Madame sometimes just babbles, or asks a lot of questions, or says things that make no sense, and today was one of those days. Let's look at a few:

"Are you two on break-up?"

"I need to buy a T-shirt, so I'm going to go down to the School Store. (I give her a look.) You know, the book store? (Me: "Yes, I do know.") Well, then why are you looking at me like you're confused if you're not!?"

Pencil Case: Yeah, Spaz, everyone said that you had a great audition and that you were gipped out of a part in the musical.
Kelsey, sarcastically: Wellllll, gosh! Who's casting these musicals, they should be fired!
Me: Um, Kelsey? Pencil Case was in the musical. (Maniacal laughter.)

For some reason, I thought the math quiz was tomorrow. Despite that, I didn't do too bad, or at least, I hope not. Oh, no, never mind, I did really bad.

Ignoring that. Art was good, but there's no way I'm finishing my thingummy by the end of tomorrow's class. This has been a good study hall, too. Not too much noise, and I had no homework except for next period. Also, French II was in the lab next door and, for a bit, had locked Madame out of the room, which I found hysterical.

For some reason, it's weirder to think that this year's sophomores and juniors are going to be juniors and seniors next year than it is to think that our class is going to become sophomores. And the weirdest thought of all is that the seniors are leaving. Which brings me to the fact that I'm going to be the biggest crying slobby wuss at my own graduation and that I should really start buying stock in Kleenex for the whole of senior year. I'm already so attached to this place, imagine how bad it will be in three more years, and I'll have to leave this place, which is one of the first places I've ever met people I truly enjoy and appreciate.


Didja Miss Me?

I am obviously a maniac. I just finished a research paper on Edgar Allan Poe's drug and alcohol addiction in two hours. Including the title page, the outline, and the works cited. In fact, I had nothing done for it up until 7th hour today, when I wrote all my notecards out. And it only took me six fun-sized Crunch bars and one bagel to do this. In a hair less than two hours. Note that it's exactly 1800 words and I do a lot of babbling, but still. It's done.

Note that I am never doing that for a paper ever again. Worst idea ever. Plus, at the same time, I was randomly selected by La Mère to make baked potatoes for Ricky's birthday dinner. Happy birthday, Ricky and Dr. Seuss and Maggie's mom.

So, let's see. I didn't post yesterday, so I should probably discuss what happened then... um. Not much, to be truly honest. It was my first day in the new history class, which was kind of bizarre. Of course, I came at the best possible time, because today, we started to watch a movie which seems to have nothing to do with WWI, but Mr. B swears it does.

Then again, he also thought that my father and Papa Paddy were twins, which no one found quite as amusing as I did. Oh, and a bunch of people in the class thought I was, yet again, a foreign exchange student. What a surprise.

Let's see... in French, Paul was playing with a wind-up toy thing and we talked about people who hate us and who have skirts that are so short their asses hang out of them. And that was about it, except for when we got yelled at for being freshman by the Idiot Juniors. As if we didn't already know we were freshmen. Also, if you hate the freshmen so much, why would you take French I, a class made of mostly freshmen?

Nobody Tells me Anything Story of the Day #768: Blumreich has a band.

Amazing Non-Flunkage Story of the Day #2: I didn't fail the ICP test. I mean, I got an 84 or something, but still.

So, during lunch, I somehow got conned into singing by Spaz and Madame.

Madame: I wish I could sing.
Me: Me too! I really can't, though. My voice is awful.
Spaz: I bet it's not. Sing something.
Me: No!!! God, what would I sing anyway, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star?!
Madame: Sing! Please!
Spaz: Sing something by Norah Jones. Or by Britney Spears.
Me: That's not singing, that's bleating.
Madame, laughing: Kelllllinka. Just sing. If you sing, I'll sing!
Me: I don't want you to sing!
Madame: I'm sure you don't have a bad voice. Just sing something.
Me, after five more minutes of discussing the matter: Fine! But you can't laugh! *Sings a few bars of "On My Own".* See, are you happy now that you've heard my terrible vibrato?

Mortifying, indeed. And of course they insisted that I have a nice voice, but then I had to go to algebra and flunk something. Actually, not really, we just had a worksheet that I mildly understood.

Then I went to art, where Art Teacher called my drawing beautiful, and then I went to study hall, where Nameless and Nameless's friend sat at my table because there were no other seats left. Except by Nameless's current girlfriend Bitchmonster. So bizarre, and they didn't even talked to me, they just talked to each other about math homework until Nameless's friend called him annoying and then they went and sat by Erik's brother when two seats opened up there.

Then in history, we watched the random movie with Hot Young Mel Gibson, who Dogface declared loudly, "a babe", which so far seems to have nothing to do with WWI and a ton to do with wandering aimlessly in the desert of somewhereoranother. Then Mr. B made fun of the country bumpkins who live in howard and randomly declared himself various characters in the movie.

In case you didn't hear: I finished my whole damn research paper in TWO HOURS. I am obviously brilliant!