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


That's a Nice Slab

Weird Kid is officially the Ritalin-deficient highlight of any of the art classes of my life.

Artsie Tartsie, to Pencil Case: There aren't just four slabs from here to the door! Look, this is a slab.
Weird Kid: That's a nice slab!

There was also him talking in psychotic voices and throwing erasers, as usual. After the "nice slab" comment, Pencil Case spent about ten minutes creepily laughing to himself. Then, he realized his foot was asleep again and got very excited. He also renamed his foot Stumpy.

Pencil Case: Only this one falls asleep. It is funny.
Me: Maybe you have low blood circulation on that side of your body. Maybe that side of your heart is different than the other, or you had a stroke.
Pencil Case: I think it needs a name. I know! I will call it "Stumpy."

During lunch, Betty and I talked for a very long time about crazy things, mainly making fun of people. Also, there was a baby shower going on in one of the meeting rooms that was not eventful at all. However, there were "It's a Boy" banners hanging up everywhere.

Me, talking about the "party": Wow, that is so sad. They are doing nothing at all.
Betty: It is actually really entertaining, in a boring sort of way. [Betty giggle.]

Betty: Hey, Blumreich, who's having a baby?
Blumreich: Oh, the party's for me. Yeah, because I'm a boy.

Then I went back up to hang out with everyone's favorite Russian, which involved deciphering phone numbers and making a sign up for dunk tank and marker-taping.

Madame, after the psychotic phase of marker-taping: I am a genius! [evil laugh]

Rachel: You aren't that short.
Madame, sarcastically: Are you kidding? She's a giant!
Me: This isn't funny anymore. Plus, I'm wearing heels today.

Other than that, today was pretty boring. We had an assembly and apparently I got a service award for my numerous straining (haha) lunch hours. Wow. Also, Betty could not see the face of the speaker and just about seized up, whispering, "Oh my god. He's all blurry. I can't see any of his features. Kellie! Who is that!?" which was funny. She has now convinced herself she is blind.

Lady: How is your biology going?
Kid: Good.
Lady: I'm going to need more than a one-word answer.
Kid: Very good.

Yesterday afternoon was play practice, good bread, and Mr. Blaney chastizing me for getting a 92, which involved him repeatedly tapping my head. Augh, freshman history, you really cannot win. You either get a certifiably bizarre teacher or a certifiably awful one. It is really a choice of the lesser of two evils, except that you either put up with what they scheduled you for or, like me, become Super History Bitch and make a schedule transfer.

We are reading Call of the Wild, AKA The Most Pointless Book Ever and Probably Kellinka's Least Favorite, in English. Augh. Also, ICP is fun when you actually understand it. Also when Adult Hermione tells us stories about how she used to think she could stick her fingers in her pupils because no one ever told her about corneas, but she never actually had the guts to do it. That reminded me of something I might have done as a child, because I had this obsession with poking my own eyes. Also with cutting the tips off markers and then drawing with them.



Blogger Pencil Case babbled mindlessly...

Wierd Kid cracks me up. I laugh just thinking about the slab line! Jesus, I think He should marry my cousin so in thirty years, he can crack jokes to my family and cause us all to bust a freaking gut. Just kidding. I would rater punch a hole through my eye lid. One semester is enough.

Passè compossè...Where ti ever start? Oh, how 'bout that I GET IT?! Madame is carazy, and Estufa is still signed up for the dunk tank.

Life is good.

10:51 PM


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