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

3.17.2005

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!

Paul: HOOKER BOOTS!

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.

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