Saturday, December 30, 2006

Imperfection, Chapter 6

Before I start: Kudos (teehee!!!) to Sam for the idea of Elliot. Although I did actually come up with the idea for a "children's" book like that. You'll get it, just read to the end.


It had actually been relativley painless in the end.

"Hello?" It sounded like him.

"Um...hi. This is Catie," I said, feeling like an idiot.

"Oh. Hey."

*awkward silence*

"So...why are you calling?"

"Melissa told me to." Oops. But it seemed to be the right thing to say, since he started laughing. "I mean, not that I didn't WANT to call you, but Melissa's, you know, artistic."


"I mean, she strongley beleives in that whole I'm-going-to-look-at-you-across-a-room-and-immediatley-become-engaged thing." He laughed again, just as Emmalee burst into my room.

"Hey Catie, do you have a--"

"Emmalee, get out!" I yelled, courteousley directing my voice away from the phone so I didn't permenantly impair Dan's hearing.


"Out!" I threw a pillow at her head and she closed the door with a "Whatever, freak."

I sighed. "Sorry about that."

"Your sister?"


"Such sisterley affection. Give me a minute, I think I'm going to be emotional."

"Shut up." Was it too early to tell him to shut up? "I mean...yeah. We don't exactly go around singing that song from 'White Christmas'."


"You know, 'Sisters, Sisters, there were never such devoted sisters...' it's from this really old movie called White Christmas."

"I'm Jewish."

"Oh. Sorry." I am completley bad at talking on the phone. When you're on the phone it's just the two people with no distractions at all. If we were walking and talking at the same time, I would have definatley fallen on my face by now.

"So hey...I have to go."

"Oh. Um. Okay. Sorry."

"About what?"

"I dunno, i just felt like i should say sorry." Because it's a DISASTER! I screamed inside my head. Because i'm a total idiot for even taking Melissa's advice in the first place!

"No, it's okay. But i don't know what's okay because you havent said anything that you were sorry about so..."

"God, listen to us. We're both so articulate today." It was easier to try to be funny when he sounded...well, when he sounded more like me. And then he finally laughed and we managed to hang up in a way that wasn't totally awkward. I flopped back onto my bead, all ready to break my rule and be emo and listen to some mopey rock. Then Erin came in and screamed at me for having no moisturizer. So at least they're good for something.


The only good thing about Melissa's moods: they wear off eventually. She came over later and told me that she was sorry and called herself a lot of names and invited me over to watch the notebook before we had to go and babysit people for the wedding.

The Notebook is seriously our favorite movie of all time. We've watched it around 50 times since it came out, and i swear to God Melissa can recite it. So this would normally be a good thing, right? Absolutley.

"This movie is messed up!!" Melissa yelled an hour later.

Apparently not.

"I'm serious. Noah already has a girlfriend. Sort of. Well, he has a hooker, and that's like two thirds of it. But the hooker likes him! And the girl has a fiance! He's a butt and everything, but still..."

"What," I said, sprawling out on the floor, exhausted from her damn mood swings, "are you talking about?"

She was oddly quiet...for about a minute. Then she was back in full force. "Look at all those movies out there. The heroine-slash-hero falls in love with someone who's taken, and in the end, they ALWAYS get together. Always. They never feel bad about the fact that they're hurting so many people. They it. They just leave."

Oh, great. I knew where this was going. "Well," I said, speaking carefully so I didnt get my eyes clawed out. "Yes. Because staying would be lying, and you see how obviously moral these people are."

She didn't even recognize the sarcasm. Something was up.

"What's wrong with you?" I said softly.

Melissa sighed and buried her head in her knees. "I met a guy."


She lifted her head. "I met a guy, okay? I didnt even really like him or was at the party."

"But you said...right."

"Yeah. That girl i was talking to didn't exist. I was sort of...he didn't tell me that he had a girlfriend, much less that he was there. He must have been pretty drunk, to do something that stupid...and now I just feel..responsible, i guess."

Looking at her sitting there, i could tell that she really was sad. She really did think that it was her fault.

"But you didn't know," I said, moving over to sit next to her. "It's not your fault. Not really."

"Yeah, I know." And i was just sitting there, thinking, Okay, crisis averted, when she looked up.

"But still."


"She took my bear!"

I jumped about five feet in the air, spilling plastic beads everywhere. Noelle, Ellie's daughter who could understand english but not speak it (which, let me tell you, made it a huge party) stared up at me, frowning. She was quiet and neat and probably had been body-snatched by aliens as a baby.

"She took it!" repeated the little boy whose name i forgot.

I was at a total loss. When we were babysitting during weddings, i did the craft thing and hung out with the shy kids, while Melissa ran the hyper ones. It was a perfect arrangement, but this kid apparently hadn't gotten the memo.


"Bobby!" Melissa said, running up to him. "Hey. What do you need?"

He took off on a long and complicated explanation of how the girl with the Shirley Temple curls (who was playing in the sandbox in the pink flower girl dress that Melissa had spent days on) had grabbed his bear. It could have been said in two sentances, but instead he took two years, Melissa nodding patiently until he finished. "Bobby," she said, "what did we talk about? If she takes the bear, you say..."

", i love this dump's so much cooler than the bear?"

"That's my little used car salesman. Your mother will be proud."

"You really think that's going to work?" I asked her, stringing the beads back onto the yarn.

"Watch," she said, sitting down next to me. Sure enough, the bear was dropped, and (much to Melissa's total horror) the girl started dumping wet sand all over her lap.

I was about to laugh, but i never got there. There was someone across the street...someone who looked really familiar...but no. It couldn't be.

"Oh my God," Melissa said. "Is that--?"

"No," I said, turning around and dropping all my beads again. Noelle sighed like i was the biggest annoyance ever and began to pick up the mess. "No. It's not. Don't even mention it. It's someone else."

"Catie!" Oh God. That voice. It could break glass. Or wood, which is harder to break without a buzzsaw. Don't ask me how i know that.

Melissa was laughing silently. "He came to your town," she choked out.

"No. No he did not. I'm in denial."

And then someone was tapping me on the shoulder. I shut my eyes, gathering up every last ounce of niceness that I had.

"Hey, Elliot," I said, turning around.

"Catie! Did you not hear me yelling?" I wanted to die, pass out cold on the grass and never get up. Because Elliot was here. School was over. I was supposed to get away from Elliot for three blissful months during the summer. Elliot, who had been trying to worm his way into any aspect of my life since the second grade. Elliot, who was a total freak about everything. Elliot, who had to be the loudest person on earth.

Elliot, who was holding something that looked a lot like a manuscript.

"Um, what have you got there?" I asked without wanting to know.

"Oh, this?"

No, the OTHER huge stack of paper that you're holding. "Yes."

"It's my new children's book." He looked very pleased with himself, and for a second i forgot to be nice.

"Okay, is this like the 'children's book' that you showed me last October, because seriously--"

"You remember when i showed it to you?" I wonder if your face can actually stick that way.

"Yes. Because I was scarred for life. And that was SO not a book that you could ever show to kids."

"But it had talking lions!"

"It wasn't the characters, it was what they were doing." Cluless.

"Look, that was a miscalculation on my part. But this one is better!"

I sighed. Polite. Must be polite, or it causes the mom to flip out and the sisters to gloat at you when you get thrown in the room after a phone call from the mother of Elliot. "Okay, okay. What's this one called?"

"When You Give a Mouse a Liquor License."

I stood there in total shock. He couldnt be seroius. No one was that stupid.

"See?" He showed me the cover page. "It's like a clever comeback to all those If You Give a Moose a Muffin and If You Give a Mouse a Cookie books."

I was silent for another couple of seconds. Then I turned around and started walking away.

"Catie? Catie! Come back here!"

"What color beads would you like, Noelle? Blue or red?"

"Look, I know it's a little out there--"

She pointed to the red bead. "Red? Wow, that's a GREAT color. Here, let me help."

"--but I'm sure that the kids will like it. Here, I'll show you."

I whirled around and pushed him a good four yards away. "Do not even--"

He flipped to the first page and started reading. "If you give a mouse a liquor license, he will open a bar under the name 'Chuck E. Cheese'. If you give a mouse a bar, he will invite you and your children. If you go there, he will ply you with alcloholic beverages in a maniacal attempt to get you drunk. If you--hey!"

The 'hey' was due to the fact that i had just snatched the papers out of his hand. "I'm assuming you have copies?" I said.

"On my computer and a disc," he said proudly. Great. "Why? Do you want to keep it?"

"No." With that, I ripped up the pages.

The look on his face was probably the most satisfying thing that had happened all day. "Well, fine!" he yelled after me as i started to walk away. "You can forget me coming here ever again, or showing you any of my manuscripts, or--"

"I think I'll live," I said, sitting back down at the little craft's table. "Blue or red?"

Friday, December 29, 2006

What I Could Hear From The Kitchen

"You have to give me five kills to start or i won't play."

"No way!"

"Come on or i'm not playing."


"Stay still."

"I'm just moving to where you can hit me!"

"No, i'll come to you. Dammit Will stop moving around and let me hit you."

*manaical laughter*

"And why am I the girl again?"

*more laughing*

"Will, let him hit you."


"Dammit, Will! Stop movin' around! I'm the REDHEAD??"

"What, Uncle Jerry, you would rather be blonde?" *this yelled by me from the kitchen.*

Thursday, December 28, 2006

Random Things

Lately, random things have started depressing me. Like a picture that i didnt even take, or a conversation i had with someone like a year ago. What just depressed me was that i was going back and reading their blog, and it was like "I didn't even KNOW them then..." and all of a sudden that depressed me. WHAT THE HELL!?!? Arg. My cell phone is being not-working-ish. People keep sending me texts at around midnight. I usually wake up when that happens, but last night i was totally out until 9 in the morning when the phone vibrating woke me up and i was like "'3 Text Messeges?' That's odd."

Anyways. Let's talk about the glorious land of Michigan. I might go and drive forklifts later, as long as i stay at least ten feet away from the golf cart at all times, as we do not want a repitition of two years ago. Ah, well. Maybe i'll just blowtorch something instead. My sister's freaking out cuz my uncle just came in and he has a tazer (he's a police officer so he's allowed to, thank you very much) and is showing us how it works. It's pretty cool, actually. Makes a noise like a machine gun. He says he's going to take us to see all of his guns. That should be entertaining. **sarcasm**

Well i gotta go, my aunt just walked in. B back later.


-People who think they know everything
-People who yell at you for chasing your little brother, even though you are not being noisy, they do not own the store, you do not know them, you are never going to see them again, and they could damn well just shut up for five seconds because they do not own the world or you.
-Sisters that tell adults about these kinds of things, expecting said adults to be shocked and outraged.
-Adults that say that you deserved it anyways and they were glad that the lady yelled at you because you can't go disrupting them like that, on and on until it's another closing statement. But this is not court. I am not the jury. I am not under oath. Or is it the witnesses that go under oath? Either way, i do not want to listen to it.
-Sisters who think the first adult is just a fluke and keep TELLING adults, who give you the same speech.
-Getting cherry soda, and then drinking it on a mostly empty stomach and feeling mildly nauseated for the rest of the day. Don't get me wrong, i still heart it, but seriously.
-Siblings who open every bottle, thus causing bottles to loose their fizz and become nothing but high fructose corn syrup and flavoring.
-Not having your shampoo and having to use your sister's, which does something funky to your hair and makes it look really straight and brown and the whole shape of your face is changed because of it.
-People who tell you to get off the computer already and be social. Though technically my dad did say that i don't have to be social until uncle jerry gets here. Sure, he thought it would be in like two seconds, but still.
-Not knowing what channel the office is on
-Hating myself for being bitchy and pathetic.
-Chicken wings
-Mothers who think you're anorexic
-Fathers who tell you that if you didnt eat so much you would be hungry for dinner, even though you havent eaten anything all day except a bagel, coffee cake, and a bag of goldfish. Yeah, there was the cherry soda, which is also why you're feeling so crap-like.
-Actually thinking the words "screw this, i'm going to bed" at 8:10.

Wednesday, December 27, 2006

A Jerk With a Porche

I can hear my sister, mom, cousin, and grandma watching the box set of Gilmore Girls season six downstairs, and Jess was talking about Logan ("You're dating that jerk? He has a Porche!!" Is that how you spell that??) so then yeah.

Interesting discovery on the way here: one of the road stop places had jones soda. Even more interesting discovery: the beer store has TONS of jones, i'm assuming it even has *drumroll* CHERRY. That's so w00t. So i may be forced to spend all of my money in twice my weight in (full, of course) glass soda bottles. Actually, i got that disgusting holiday set for christmas. Bread Roll Soda, Pea Soup Soda, Sweet Potatoe Soda, Turkey and Gravy Soda, and Antacid-Flavored Soda, in that order. It's absoloutley the most disgusting thing i've ever tasted and i love it for that. Though under no circumstances am i going to go and drink any more of that stuff. In a word: ew.

And now a parting note:

Ali: *in strange voice* I went to Idaho State College, of course! (i know this sounds strange but seriously there's a whole story behind it.)

Will: Yeah! Ohio STATE!!

Ali: No, Idaho. Idaho. I-DA-HO.

Emma: Oh, Ali, don't say that about yourself.

...think about it for a sec.

Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Conversations With My 14-Year-Old Self

The title is taken from the v. emo Pink song "Converstions With My 13-Year-Old Self". I found the idea of having a conversation with yourself very amusing and decided to give it a shot.

Hey, self. Thanks for coming down here today.

No problem. And technically, I already WAS here. In your head. Nice place you've got here.


A little cluttered, but the gigantic poster of Hayden Christensen was a nice touch.

Thanks, I like it myself. Ha, ha.

*awkward silence* 'bout those Yankees?

It isn't baseball season. Plus, you don't know the first thing about baseball.

I know, i know. I'm just not used to making smalltalk with myself.

You're excused.

*awkward silence*

So, how 'bout those Eag--


Jeez, why are you so moody?

You can't insult me! I'm YOU.

Oh. Well, your mom.

...oh. Right. Sorry about that.

So is this conversation going to go anywhere productive?

Probably not. Oh, but i do have a question.


Where did Sanity go? Did she ever come back?

Oh, she went to Paris.

PARIS?? Lucky. How come my mind gets to go nicer places than me?

It's not just her. Intellegence and Grace ran off together.

No way. Seriously?? They seem like such an unlikley couple. Where did THEY go?


Great. Well, it's been nice chatting with you, but there's a couple of men in white coats and a strange-looking truck knocking on my door. I should probably go get that.

Saturday, December 23, 2006

Imperfection, Chapter 5

My mom had a similar reaction to me: first shock, a little anger, but it was overlapped by her total hapiness that they were even there. My dad was the one who picked up on how crap i was feeling. When i was helping him move the almonds on to one bed in their room (Emmalee woudl sleep there, leaving me to share with Erin. Not ideal, but better than the alternative), he started talking.

"So...thrilled to have your sisters back?" he said in French, smiling. My sisters had opted for German in middle school and stayed with it until they had almost totally forgoten almost all of their French. Plus, Emmalee and Erin couldnt seem to cram two languages in there at the age of 3. I did, but all my social skills apparently shoved out my ear to make room.

"Well, they were never my best friends to begin with," I said. "What are they doing here? It looks like they're going to stay, too. And it's not like they'll be able to help. With the weddings, I mean. Maybe Emmalee could work on something simple, but Erin..."

"But arent you at least a little happy to see them after all this time?"

I looked up at my dad to check if he was joking. He was tall, dark haired, skinny, like me. My sisters were all Mom: shorter, had a figure, the same totally perfect hair but in blonde. I got The Eyes, though: light green and the only thing that I actually thought was passably pretty about myself.

I looked up at him standing there, assured, calm, collected, funny, confident, nice.

And i knew he would never understand.

He would never understand how small my sisters made me feel, how worthless. They were always "we" or "us". They had that concrete "us" that sheilded them from all harm, while I was a "me", weak and singular and vulnerable. I had to build walls. Not even Melissa totally understood. When i told her, she explained what i was feeling, sure. She put it into words. But once she introduced me to the "us", i started noticing how everyone around me was part of an "us". My parents. Melissa and her mom. My sisters. The Couples roaming the streets around me.

And I could never totally hate those boys who came into the bakery, because in truth they were just like me. They were just looking for someone to be an "us" with, if only for a little while.

So i couldnt tell my dad. He was an "us." Instead, I said, "Yeah, it's great" and walked down into the store under the pretense of re-arranging the wedding cake display in the window, but really to get away from the chaos.

I was halfway through my third-favorite Fiona Apple song on my iPod (Oh Well) and nowhere NEAR done rearranging (at least not while The Sisters were on the premesis) when the phone rang. "Hello, Catie Stewart speaking...okay...okay...okay...who is this? Oh, hey Melis--stop talking that fast. What? Okay, fine, i'll come over."


"I can't beleive she did this again," Melissa ranted twenty minutes later. "AGAIN!"

I was sitting on the floor in her apartment, playing with my hair and feeding loads of white fabric through the sewing machine while she talked. And talked. And talked.

"She just HAS to go off with what's-his-name the DAY before the Baum wedding! 'Nothing's going to happen the day before the wedding!'" she mocked in an annoying falsetto voice that i could only assume was supposed to be her mom's.

"And then WHAT happens? The stupid bride comes crying to us and says that the skirt isn't poofy enough and i say 'What do you mean' and she says 'I'd like to speak to the person in charge, if you don't mind,' and i say 'I am in charge' and she said 'I don't beleive you' and I say 'Fine, then don't get your dress fixed' and she says 'What are you, ten?' and i say 'No' and she acts like she's doing me this collosal favor by letting me fix her dress AGAIN and she's like 'Where should I put my dress?' Oh, i'll TELL her where she can put her dress, she can just--"

"Woah, woah, woah." I stopped her, holding up my hands. "You're going 100 miles per hour in a 10 mile zone here."


I pulled the plug on the machine and grabbed her arm.

"Okay, we need to chill out now."

"But the--"


"But I have to--"

"No." I half-dragged her into the living room. The second i let go of her arms to turn on the TV, Melissa slid onto the carpet. I flicked through the channels until i landed on vh1, where Justin Timberlade was singing about his sexy back.

She groaned. "Not this."

So of course I started to sing, "Dirty baaaaaaaaabe, you see these shackles baby i'm your slaaaaaaaaaaave..."

"NOO!" she screamed, but she was laughing.

So I did something that was very atypical for me: I jumped on the table, using a spoon that had been randomly sitting there as a microphone, and started singing even louder.

Now, since it was ten in the morning and Melissa was having an emotional breakdown, neither of us processed that putting 115 or so pounds on a table that they found at a garage sale 10 years ago would not end well. But we were definatley processing it when the entire thing collapsed under me.

"Oh, shh...oot," Melissa said. "Way to have a me moment."


Once we had reconstructed the table, things were pretty much alright. Except for that in the wake of Melissa's extreme depression over the wedding dress came one of her bossy moods.

"Call Dan."

"What?" This had come out of nowhere.

"Call Dan. I think you like him."

"I think i just met him."

"I think," she said, slamming a box of Cheez-Its down on her table, "that you like him. Am I right or am I right?"

"Why would i like him?" Her train of thought is truely baffling at times.

"Because you talked to him."

"I'm talking to you, arent I? Does that mean i'm madly in love with you? Yes, Melissa, let's run away together." I broke a Cheez-It in half and started grinding it into a little pile of crumbs.

Melissa ignored me, which is what she usually does when i don't say what she wants. "You know what i mean. You should call him."

"What? That would be stalking."


I swear to God, she's from Mars. "Melissa," I said calmly. But not in a nice way. More in a "The only other option is me going so beserk that I break more than just that table" way. "If you call a guy after talking to him for fifteen minutes the night before and ask him out, then he will get this nifty little thing called a restraining order."

"Who says that you have to ask him out. Just call him when you get home. I dare you."

"Fine. That's fine," I said. "Because i'm never going home for the rest of my life or when my sisters leave, whichever comes first."

"Well," she said, walking back to the sewing machine, "you can't stay here."


"I have a dress to finish." She turned on the radio first, and then the sewing machine.

I stood there, totally shocked. I should have said something, probably. But the music was loud and i was in shock and she wasnt looking up. And it was stupid, but that kind of hurt.

So I turned around and walked out.

But I didn't go home. I walked around town, stopping at every single store to make inane smalltalk. I went up to The Hill and sat there for a good hour, just watching people. I walked into the next town and down by the highway, where i'm not supposed to go because people drive like idiots. But i went anyway and sat on the metal thing on the side of the road and got weird looks from people driving slow in rush hour traffic.

Rush hour. How long had i been out here? I looked up at the sky. The sun was getting lower. I'm not enough of an idiot to sit on the side of the road in the dark.

I got a lecture when I came back, but it was more because no one wanted to take out their anger on the twins, now that they were actually home.

Finally, i shut myself in my room. But even there, it kind of sucked.

Just call him. Call him when you get home.

No. That's stupid. That's stalking.

Call him.

I looked at the school directory sitting on my desk.

I must be insane.

I held the phone to my ear, still with no clue as to why I was doing this.



Wednesday, December 20, 2006

A Challenge

First off, some things that need to be dealt with:

My inspiration for Imperfection has gone. This happens frequently and i should be posting it before or just after the new year.

The German-Irish Mafia blog has been updated. Click the link on the sidebar to see.

Now, what i wanted to adress.


A few events marked that day that he disappeared (and a couple of days before and after that), for me at least. There was sort of a fight, a sort of apology, another fight, a sort of debacle, i got sick, and then there was a general resolution.

Then Voah posted for what seems to be the last time. Sunday, December 3, 7:44 EST. One hour later, Triple Threat was updated by sam, who said: A note to voah: The road to hell is paved with good intentions. On what i think was the same day, Bluecandy6 also disappeared. Only she deleted her blog, whereas Voah just stopped.

And there's been no hint of him since.

This mysifies me because Voah always seemed like he would never go away. He seemed like he thought that his job was important, too important to discontinue.

My theory on this is that someone found out who he was, and that his speech about anonymity was sort of a parting speech in a way. He may feel that he can no longer continue.

But i could be wrong.

So I'm asking him a favor:

Voah, please at least tell us where you've gone. If you prefer to leave us in silence, just as you came, that is your perrogative.

But I don't think that you'll be able to resist a last challenge.

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

How About Some Popcorn and Solitary Confinement

I dunno where the popcorn part of the title came from. I guess I'm just hungry, as usual.

So last night my dad got really mad at me and sent me to my room.

This surprised me because my dad is a lawyer.

Lawyers do not send you to your room as a punishment like normal people.
They don't really give you punishments either. Or at least, they don't call it that.

They give you "sanctions".

I.E. they take away the stuff you really care about, although the said stuff has nothing to do with the matter at hand.

I only get sent to my room when they want me to go away or if i shock them so much that they can't come up with a "sanction". This time it was because i did something so shocking as argue with him. A-gasp.


At the time he sent me up there, it was 8:25.

I was like "8:25? What am i supposed to do in my room alone at 8:25?"

And thus the series of pictures called "Solitary Confinement" was born.

The sexiest shoes in the world being worn by someone who is totally NOT my little brother. (To be perfectly honest, this was taken on Sunday, not Monday.

The sink in the upstairs "kid's bathroom". This idea stolen from Sam.

The book i'm currently reading. It's set in England in 1817. I love these kinds of books for some reason, if only because everyone talks so old-brittish-y and i love to imitate them and make emma stare at me like "?!?!?!?"

The view from where i was laying. I still have pink polish on my toes. My pajamas make my legs look massive.

Cooookie.... (I eventually snuck downstairs)

Me hiding from my dad.

Precipitation (this is my water cup thing on my dresser.)

Under my blanket....and then i fell asleep.
Next time: the adventures of me and kim.

Saturday, December 16, 2006

Clutter and Time Travel

That's my bulliten (sp.?) board. It's a sexy beast and i love it dearly. Pretty much every picture i get in the mail from theatre camp/anyone, i put up there.
In science the other day we were talking about how many ways we could think of Mr. Mucci being absent for an extended amount of time. This kid Kyle was like "Mr. Mucci, what if you broke your hip?" and Mr. Mucci said "I'd be back here in a week. No, wait, the next day. Or the next afternoon. I'd be back in ten minutes because I'd freeze time and get them to do the operation on me." Some kid in the back goes, "Wait, then wouldnt the doctors be frozen, too?"
Kyle: Not if he was touching them when he froze time.
Me (to Stu): Like in Clockstoppers! God, that movie sucked.
Stu: *stares*
Mr. Mucci: I could just make time freeze in a certain place. I'm an experienced timestopper. So you're never going to get rid of me.
We get SO off-track in X ICPE. Especially since whenever me and Genna and Stu work together, we get NOTHING done. It's mostly just thinking about creative ways to kill Travis (I voted spontanious combustion), debating what color my hair should be next (Stu: Blue, Genna: Blonde, Me: Neither), thinking up annoying nicknames for each other (Beef Stu/Stu-pid, Hollister/Abecrimbe (i can never spell that), Pinky/Ali G), or playing the transvestite stick figure game ("But there's no difference! He only has like one more hair!!...OHHHHHH..."). Social Studies is also fun, as i get to harass Stone, the Noah-Sam (i confused mr. delella!!), Conner, and Kelso. Hehehe....but mr. holmes keeps pop-quizzing us on nothing ("I thought he was going to say 'Who would win in a fight?'"). And also Confucionism and Daoism, but seriously. Who even cares? I spend most of my time in that class reading "Harp of Burma", cuz i always forget. Because i'm me, and that's what i do.

Friday, December 15, 2006

Theorems and A Challenge

Did I spell that right?

Well, the title of this post will become clear momentarily(sp.?). Today I turned on the radio, and I heard a song. What song it was, i couldnt tell. But it was annoying, and i thought that i might put the singer on the hit list, or more specifically, the composer, since it's not the same thing most of the time. So i started to describe the song to my friend: it was about some girl who was in love with a boy who had just broken up with her for what seemed to be no reason.

The friend in question named five songs off the top of her head.

This was a little odd to me, but not really. I decided to skip the radio and go watch TV. My sister was watching Full House, and the commercials came on. The first commercial was for a movie where the guy kept living the day over and over, but it was Christmas-themed. My mom said "They're showing Groundhog Day?" and I said "That sounds exactly like that TV seiries with Taye Diggs in it. Also Deja Vu." Then I thought about how you could possibly get away with that without being sued for copyright enfringement. A Hillary Duff commercial came on. I was distracted by thinking about the suckiness of her movies. Like 'A Perfect Man.' It was this movie about this mom with two girls, one of them Hillary Duff trying to make you beleive that she's a disaffected-type-youth, and the other was some unknown actess who played her odd-ish, spelling-bee-winning sister, who moved all over the country to find, you guessed it, The Perfect Man. I wanted to kill myself after watching this. Actually, that was a lot like that one, what was it...Mermaids. Ever seen it? It's a movie about this mom who has two daughters, one of them Winona Ryder trying to make you beleive that she's a religious teenager, and some unknown actress who played her swimming-ish younger sister, and they move around the country in search of a guy for her to date.

And then it hits me: Everything is repeating itself! I knew that already, but still! I mean, think about it: The song "Promiscuous" could logically be called a modern-day rendition of "Baby, It's Cold Outside" (my parents have the holiday music playing on repeat). But the ideas had to start somewhere.

So here is the challenge part: I think that there are at least 10-20 movies that started it all. And i want a list. Of course, there possibly are a lot more than that, but i needed a number.

Your challenge is, if you want, to help me with the list. The only things are that you have to do your reaserch, and no silent movies cuz those are stupid. And you have to provide a plot synopsis, but it doesnt have to be your own. Otherwise, that's it. The movie can be old, new, action, romance, comedy, whatever. I reccomend this site for the looking-up of movies.

That's all, folks.

Thursday, December 14, 2006

I Have No Idea How to Say This...So I'll Use Song Lyrics.

Honey why you calling me so late?
It's kinda hard to talk right now.
Honey why are you crying? Is everything okay?
I gotta whisper 'cause I can't be too loud.--Lips of an Angel, Hinder

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

My Teeny Tiny Little World

This conversation says all i have to say:

Ali: erg
have you ever realized how things can spiral toally out of control?
Tim: yes
Ali: and i'm not talking about life, either, altho that's a big one
i'm talking about this stupid online seiries that i'm watching
Tim: ?
Ali: have you heard of the lonelygirl15 seires?
everyone thought that it was a real girl
then it turned out to be an actor
when she got "exposed" i started to watch it
at first it was bree
Tim: ?
Ali: then came daniel
so then it was daniel and bree
then gemma introduced herself
so then it was daniel and bree and gemma
then jonas came in
Tim: okay...
Ali: so then it was daniel and bree and gemma and jonas, all with seperate video blogs
and then i find out
that there are two more characters
one of which has multiple names
doesnt my world seem very small to you now?
Tim: bigger than mine
Ali: really?
that surprises me
considering that my world is apparently made up entirely of fictional characters
oh, and chocolate.


Oh, and: D, to the E, to the L-I-C-I-O-U-S. Luke has listened to that song SO many times. Somewhere around 647, according to his iTunes count.

That's it really.

Sunday, December 10, 2006

Princess Di

I was reading a report thing about princess diana's death and all of these inquisitions that it was a conspiracy, which are only happening because no one wants this really great political figure to be brought down by something as ordinary as a car crash.

And then i remembered something. I remember the day that she died, even though i was only five. This is from when i was talking to Genna:

Me: it's so strange...i only remember really great things or things that seemed good but were really bad or bad things
Genna: hmmm ok
genna: haha
Me: it's so strange. i'm not being emo here, i'm seriously wondering
genna: haha
Me: like i remember, from when i was five, the day princess di died
genna: ok
genna: really?
genna: i don't even think i knew who she was
Me: my parents told me
genna: ooo
Me: they wanted me to be a moral republican supergenius
Me: i wonder what happened to me
Me lol
genna: haha

Friday, December 08, 2006

This Is Bugging Me


so there's this movie

the lake house

that my sister tricked me into watching

sandra bullock

keanu reeves

sappy as hell


the movie starts with this lady named cate eating lunch with her mom. All of a sudden this guy gets hit by a bus and she runs and tries to save him cuz she's a doctor but he dies anyways. So of course since they included this, you know that it is the guy that they showed her talking to in the preview (alex). Her doctor friend tells her to go away somewhere that she likes, and she's all "ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, kay" and goes to the lake house (hence the name). Then she finds a letter in her mailbox from this guy who says that he's 2 years in the past. A whole complicated correspondence ensues. Then he tells her that he's going to meet her two years from tomorrow (which for her is just tomorrow). Then he doesnt and she gets all pissy and decides that she's not going to write to him anymore. Some complicated stuff happened that i didnt get at all, and he finds a letter that she wrote that talked about her eating lunch at a certain place on Valentine's Day and he wants to go there and then she finally figures out that it was him who died. So she sends him a letter that says to wait two years and she'll be there and the little flag on the mailbox goes down, and she looks up and he's there, kiss kiss, etc.

So here's what i don't get: the only reason she ever went to the lakehouse was because he died. but then he never died, so she never went to the lakehouse, so they never talked, so they couldnt possibly have ever met.


Monday, December 04, 2006

Imperfection, Chapter 4

The first thing i did after i unlocked the door walked into the store was help myslef to the pizza that my parents had left out on one of the tables. They can make a cake the size of a small elephant, but ask them to cook something that isn't penut butter sandwiches or Spagetti-O's and you have a small-scale disaster on your hands. It's for this reason that we usually eat at Ellie and Ben's apartment (they're the caterers and my parent's best friends because they're European too and all). They make enough food for five hundred, let alone five.

But it was almost two days until the Baum thing, and no one had time for anything but horse-head-shaped appetizers and the fire-engine-colored, five layer cake that was driving my parents crazy.

Pizza in hand, I took the key out of my pocket and walked over to the door that led up into our apartment. It's always locked, not because my parents are worried about getting robbed (the store has an alarm system, and as if that's even necesary in a town like this except for that one time), but becasue some of the stupider customers are given the wrong idea from the evil photography people and think that every store has turned their apartment into an extension.

And when there are strange people randomly showing up in your living room, you get a lock.

I flicked on my stereo once i got into my room, catching Karen O in mid-wail. My parents were gone, probably at Ellie's, so i could listen this loud, this late.

My room was small. I liked it that way, unlike my mom, who repeatedly told me that just looking in the doorway made her claustrophobic. I had managed to back in two beds, a dresser, a desk, a bookshelf and a stereo, not to mention all of my CD's. To get out of or into the room, you had to climb over the beds, and even from there, you couldn't really GO anywhere. The desk was across from the dorr, the stereo and CD's were behind the beds, and the dresser was sort of on the side. The bookshelf was bolted around the entire perameter of the ceiling. It's small and cozy and warm into the winter without being suffocating, but it's air-conditioned in the summer without being too freezing. And with the little stereo that i saved up for all last summer, you can fill the entire room with music.

I love music. I listen to it, i sing it (badly), i get high off of it, i just float on top of it. I love it for the same reason that i love my room: When it's just right, i can turn it up loud and drown out my own silence and get swallowed up in the beat and feel totally safe.

I don't beleive in iTunes or riipping music. I buy the CD, period. I have an iPod, but i've never joined the iTunes conspiracy. And every CD that i've ever owned is on that rack in alphabetical order, no matter if it was a gift (classical, The BeeGees) or how young i was when i bought it and if i am now ashamed of it (Dream Street, Britney Spears, Aaron Carter, from my elementary school days). And no matter how weird it may seem to have all of Hillary Duff's albums (my aunt persists in thinking that i am four, and that "Duffy Hills" is THE latest thing) on the same shelf as Hellogoodbye, it's principle

That month i was determined to listen to every one of my CD's in order (I was still on A, Aretha Franklins Greatest Hits. A hand-me-down from my mom, and you would think that it would suck, but it's strangley addicting, and thank God that Aaron was behind me), but I had made an exception for the new Yeah Yeah Yeahs CD.

I sat down at my desk, ignoring the fact that Mom was so going to lecture me on having pizza in my room, and turned on the computer. It's a piece of crap, but it's decently fast and it IS in my room (my parents are cluesless about any sort of technology, but i get paid extra to do all the math-y stuff that they would usually need the computer for. As soon as i logged on, i got an IM from Melissa.

Gilmoregirls23: That party was stupid.

No duh. And you're the one who took ME.

Audiophile80: It's was alright.

Gilmoregirls23: Yeah, well, you got to meet someone. All I got to do was talk to some girl about what "I need some space" means.

Audiophile80: Oh, she wasnt your type?

Gilmoregirls23: Ha. Ha. I'm laughing so hard that my hand just *accidentally* flew out and punched you in the face.

Audiophile80: Who did i meet?

Gilmoregirls23: Duh, the guy on the wall. Sounds like a Dr. Suesse book.

Audiophile80: I knew him already though. Sort of.

Gilmoregirls23: But you were TALKING. That NEVER happens!

The phone started ringing at that exact second, so i didnt get to defend myself. Who would be calling this late? It was probably, I though, Mom and Dad, telling me to set the alarm system. Which, duh, i did already. Who did they think i was, anyways? One of my pseudo-perfect, party-happy, forgetting-to-turn-the-alarm-on-and-getting-the-store-broken-into, totally blonde-



"Um, Emmalee, is that you?" I tried hard to sound happy.

"Don't forget me, silly!"


"Yup!" Laughter. Shrill, insane laughter that sent chills down my spine. It didnt usually do that over the phone. Today it sounded closer.

Much closer.

"Uh," I said, walking out of my room, through the living room, and down the stairs. "This is really...surprising! you don't usually call me."

"Oh, of course we do!" Well, if you say so, then it must be true. I tripped out of the back room and into the front of the store. I didnt look out of the big picture windows because i didnt want it to be true. Instead, I headed straight for the door.

"But you know," Erin/Emmalee siad, "we havent visited in a while..."

"...and we wanted to..."

"...but Harvard is just SO damanding and SO far away..." Feel free to gloat.

"...but now that we're out for the summer, we thought--"

I pulled open the door.

"Aww, you caught us," Erin whined, flipping back her perfectly straightened hair.

"She probably heard you shreiking," Emmalee muttered.

I stopped breathing. The phone was still clamped to my ear.

"Uhh, gonna invite us in anytime soon?" she (Emmalee) sneered.

They were back. WHY were they back? Last summer they hadn't come home. They'd gotten internships at God knows where and came down for a week. Christmas, Easter, Mom's birthday. And that was IT. That was all i had to see of them all year.

"Earth to Catie. Hello. Hi. Still here, still have stuff."

Stuff. They had stuff, bags, luggage, more than you'd need for a week. More than you'd need for a lifetime, actually, but for them it was traveling light.

And the bags. Louis Vuitton. When did we get money for designer suitcases? Hell, we couldnt even afford a computer that wasn't circa Whenever Dinasours Roamed The Earth. What, they had a mob connection or something?

And they couldnt have even CALLED? Given us, given ME a few weeks, ONE week, a DAY to mentally prepare for being assulted by their blonde-ness (Mom's evil Sweedish side come to work) and to get the five hundred miniature bags of Jordan almonds out of their room, where they (the almonds) were currently stacked on every available square inch of space?

By this time they had pushed by me and were headed upstairs, two huge bags in each hand. Their stregnth was amazing for girls who looked like you could probably break them in half if you threw something at them. Don't tempt me.

That was when i saw the remaining three bags. Oh God.

When i finally got up the stairs, they were standing there with identcial expressions of anger on their perfect faces.

"What the hell is wrong with our room?" Emmalee started it up, as usual. Erin just followed her lead. It had always been that way, like not only did they share a room and a birthday and chromosomes but a brain as well. Erin alone was useless. Emmalee was the mastermind. All she had to do was say "I want to go to Harvard" and Erin mimicked her studying, her extracurriculars, her everything, as usual.

"Yeah!" Erin piped up. I thought that that would be all she had to add, but Harvard must have been doing something to her. "Like, there's these little...these little...THINGS all over the place!!" She gave a self-satisfied grin, then scowled, then smirked, then frowned, then settled on her usual expression of "confused and extremely lost".

"Well," I spoke for the first time since they'd walked in, very slowly, very calmly, like if i didnt i would spontaniously combust, "we didn't know that you were coming. You sort of didn't call..."

They gave me an identical hair flip and a "Hah!" Amazing. "That's total B.S. You should never have even put them in there in the first place! It's summer, we're college students, we come home for the summer," Emmalee continued, only she didnt say the initials.

"Yeah, and we DID call! We called just a couple of minutes ago!" Erin said triumphantly. Poor her. You could tell that she totally thought she had a point, despite Emmalee's obvious eye-roll.

I knew that I wouldnt be able to argue with Erin. It wouldnt be fair, really, just like it wouldnt be fair to kick a small animal for not being able to read the newspaper. It was just how things were. But Emmalee. Emmalee, I could yell at.

"Oh really? We're supposed to just totally drop everything on the off chance that you might deign to come back this year? What makes now different?" I totally got up in Emmalee's face, realizing that I was almost as tall as her now.

And then I saw it. A flicker of something close to fear in her eyes.

But then it was gone again, and she was back to being a snob.

"Anyways, that's SO not the point," she (Emmalee) said. "The POINT is, where are we going to sleep?"

Oh, I'll tell you where you can sleep, I thought. And then i stopped and thought. Mom and Dad would be happy that they were here. Not thrilled that they didnt call, but they would be happy that they had shown. I remembered Mom crying because they didnt send mail, E or otherwise, and they didnt call. I remembered Dad looking sad because all that they DID do on Father's Day was call. And I realized that ruining this was bigger than I realized.

So I dropped it. And thought about where they would sleep, so they didnt up and leave. "Well, I have two beds, so one of you could sleep on the couch or the floor or something," I suggested.

"Oh, that'd be--" Erin started brightly, but Emmalee cut her off with an incredulous look. Plus the arm to the stomach was a not-so-subtle conversation stopper. Then Erin looked at Emmalee's face and pasted the expression on her own.

I raised my eyebrows. Emmalee increased the disgust factor, but I so wasn't going to bite.

"What?" I asked.

More disgust. Great.

And that was how, a half-hour later, I was trying to get to sleep on the couch in the small living room, all the while listening to my sisters giggle over my music collection and feeling a million miles away.

Sunday, December 03, 2006

Those Stupid Soccer Parties

My brother's team won the championship on Saturday. That was nice.

Then we held the party at our house. Not so nice.

First of all, me and my mom and my sister ran off and got 10 pizzas.

10 pizzas.

Then we took them home and helped to devour them all. Only the little kid who grabbed my butt last time I saw him was there (as was his brother who saw him doing that and tried to grab my SISTER'S butt). This time, he tried to grab something else.

Little pervs.

So I just stayed in my room and read until they all left, the butt-grabbing boys and their older brother who Will is friends with took Will with them, and my parents left to get a stereo and some Christmas lights. So me and Emma just sat there watching Gilmore Girls. I was wearing these slipper socks that made it really easy to slide around, so i would periodically slide into the living room and talk to Shermy. Then I told him that I hadnt hit anything yet. The next time I slid in, I slid a little too enthusiastically and hit the wall behind the computer.

Thentoday we went to church for the first time since June. I can't remember anything about it because i zoned out. Then we went and bought a christmas tree it's prettyful and we had no fiascos like we did last year (my dad bought one and it was really wimpy and sad-looking and dead-ish and then we got another one but me and emma and will felt bad for the other small tree so we moved it outside into our treehouse and it took forever and then we decorated it with beads and string and some squirrels came and tried to attack it and i stuck a Barbie head on the top instead of like a star or whatever and then it snowed and the water that we put it in froze but somehow it wasnt dead and then it was there until like February). Yeah, and then I bought this totatlly freaky looking Barbie ornement thing as a joke and it's like *plays jaws music*.

Yeah so yeah. I must go watch the porcupines dance. don't ask.

Friday, December 01, 2006


Oy. I think i'm sick. Cuz i have a headache and a cough. then i coughed so much that i got these really painful hiccups that made my eyes water. And now i think i'll sleep. Yes, i'm aware that it's only 4:59. No, i don't care.

To the couch.

Thursday, November 30, 2006

Imperfection, Chapter 3

I walked into Melissa's appartment at around 6:30 that night. She and her mom were sitting there sewing way faster than it should be humanly possible to do. The dresses themselves were, in a word, revolting. They were a mixture of orange, green and brown, all twisted around, with a big pouf that was apparently supposed to resemble leaves sticking out of the bottom.

"Bridesmaid dresses?" I asked. "Yes," they answered at the same exact time, not even looking up. It was scary how similar they were. Short, blonde hair (but Melissa couldnt stand it, so she dyed hers), the same exact laugh. And a tendancy to go into these little spacey things where they would, say, forget that it was 6:30 and they could stop.

"Uhh...6:30..." I said, but neither of them appeared to hear me. They were in their own little world. I thought about waving my hands in front of Melissa's face, but considering that she was looking straight down, with her hands next to a moving needle, this wouldnt be the best idea. So clicked the lights on and off until they got the hint.

"Oh, sorry," Melissa said, switching off the machine. "Mom, i'm gonna..." She trailed off an looked at her mom, still sewing. "You know what, she'll figure it out. Let's go."

We both walked down through the store, where there were still some people lingering about. "Hey, Theresa?"

The girl behind the counter looked up from the tabletop, where she had been doing something weird with the cash register. "Yeah?"

"If you hear any sort of breaking glass or explosions from upstairs, call 911, okay?"

"Sure," Theresa responded, totally calmly. She was used to having to take care of things, what with Lilly (Melissa's mom) and Melissa being, well, them.

We walked outside. The light wasnt even dim yet, but the streetlights were on. No one really ever bothers with that sort of thing in Annica Hill, changing the times that the streetlights go on, because it's so small here, and really people arent much concerned about it anyways. As usual, Melissa was leading the way. I was pretty sure that she didnt know where she was going, but she walked fast in a straight line, talking the entire time.

Then I spotted it. A sort of off-color splotch in the distance. It was moving, and you could hear music. I hate my glasses (ugly) and the idea of contacts disgusts me (touching your EYEBALL? Are you SERIOUS?), so I basically walk around pretty much blind all the time.

I asked Melissa, who could see just fine, "What is that?"

"That what?"

"That slightly off-color blob right...there."

She stood on her toes for a better look. Then she smiled a big, slightly evil smile, and said one word.


Now, before I go any further, let me explain to you about Melissa, and why that word was so scary coming out of her mouth. Melissa is both cynnical and naive at the same time. She'll pretend to have a clue when she doesnt, and she'll act stupid when she's already five steps ahead of everyone else. She won't sing in front of people, but she will rap. She'll seek out anything you do well and compliment you or make it positive, but she thinks nothing of herself. She gives the best advice, but her own life, while not a mess, is definatley of the disorganized heap variety. She's outspoken and argumentive to a fault but can suck up with the best of them when absoloutley necessary. She's bossy but can't stand authority figures. She mocks the Couples but wants to find something like that (just not so disgusting). She's sarcastic but poetic. I tower over her (she's only five feet tall), but she always takes the lead in everything. I can't talk to someone unless i've known them since i was five, but she can talk to anyone. Basically, she's one huge contradiction wrapped into a convinient human-shaped package.

And at these parties, she is always snapped up by someone who's crying or needs advice and she gives it to them because she says that it's all so obvious that she just has to tell them.

And i'm standing here like a stone because i know that the second i walk over here that will happen.

"Hey, come on!"

She's off and running, straight towards the blob. And i had no choice but to follow.


And two hours later, there i was, sitting on The Wall (right by The Hill), waiting for it to be 10 already so Melissa could stop advice-ing and we could go.

So i'm not a party girl. Like i didnt already know that.

I scanned the little gathering. Some people i knew from school. Some were wedding kids, burning time and the occasional cigarette before Saturday, two days from now, when they would have to get pretty and take pictures.

It looked like okay fun, and yet here i was, sitting here on the wall. I looked over to my right and noted with some surprise that i wasnt the only reject sitting here. There was some random guy with brown hair sitting about ten feet down. And he looked a little familiar.

He saw me looking and waved. It seemed so stupid that i waved back, and he moved over right next to me.


"Hey," I replied. "Do I...know you from somewhere?"

"I dunno, maybe." "Were you...hmm..." He looked up like the answer was going to fall out of the sky and hit him on the face. "Were you in my AP French 3 class?"

I thought back to that stupid class, with the teacher giving us big speeches about "AP leval behavior". Guys are always going to throw spitballs and paper footballs, okay? Get over it. And in the back of my mind, i remembered zoning out (not like i didnt know all that already) and staring at the brown haired head of the kid in front of me.

"Oh yeah. Yeah, i sat behind you."

"You're Catie."


"Hi, Catie."

"Hi, Dan."

He smiled a little.

"That class was a bitch. You were good at it, though."

"Mrs. Ericson was a bitch. And it's not that big a deal. I'm fluent. That's my only AP class. I use the time to do my Lit homework."

"Really?" He looked at me like he didnt beleive it. "What, you lived in France or something?"

"No." I took a deep breath like i always do before telling anyone this. "See, my dad is Cambodian, Japanese and French, but he was raised in England. My mom is Italian, Sweedish and English, but she was born in France. My dad learned French when he went there to internwith some pastry-type dude. They met there, they moved here, they opened a bakery, they had my sistersm, they had me, and here we are." I stopped. "Why am I telling you this?"

"I...I couldnt say." He looked a little stunned. Like I said, I'm not exactly a "people person", but when, on the occasion i don't run and hide from someone, i explode on them a little.

"Yeah, guess you couldnt." I didnt know what else to say, so i looked down at my shoes. Pink and black Converse High Tops. A little out there for Ringwald High School (where I go), where preppy is de reguer for most, but they're cute. The shoes, i mean. In a town as small as Annica Hill, high tops are as big of a rebellion as you can make without a drivers licencse.

And then i realized that he was wearing them too. High tops, i mean. And not pink and black, but red. He seemed to notice our similar choice in footwear, because he tilted his head toward my feet and said "Nice tops."

"Thanks. Yours too. I have a pair just like them."

"Like, I totally have a pair of those too!" he said in an exaggerated valley girl accent.

I laughed. "Soo...what brings you to the bustling metropolis that is Annica Hill?" Was that me? I never said things like that. That was Melissa's job. "I'm guessing you don't live here, or i would know."

He laughed, surprising me. "Yeah, no, I mean, I live in Westbrook." A good ten minutes away. "My brother works here though. The picture place. He wanted to meet some girl here." Dan jerked his head over towards a slightly familiar-looking guy who was making out with a girl who appeared to be one of the Baums on Miss-Caroline-Amber-yes-ma'am's family. Miss Lucinda Louise, a.k.a. Cindy Lou Who, Southern Belle Extrordenaire (Melissa's name. She has a thing for making up names for people). "He did."

"I can see that."

"And you?" He asked, averting his gaze from the graphic scene that was playing out in front of us.


"Who dragged YOU here?"

"Oh, right. It was Melissa." I pointed at her. She was still consoling the weepy girl who i had never seen, and i'm pretty sure she hadnt either. "She's one of those psyciatry types."

He laughed AGAIN. I'm sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone who's funny. "I'm eagerly awaiting curfew like the nerd I've been accused of being."

"Yeah, well, join the club," he said. "The high-top-wearing, party-hating club." Then he held out one high-top-clad foot towards me. "Converse solidarity."

It was weird, but whatever. I touched my shoe to his.

There wasnt any spark of electricity shooting up my leg or anything like that. I kind of wanted there to be, just so i could have one of those romance-novel moments. But it didnt and i didnt. I just laughed.

"Catie! Thank God. We should go."

I stared at Melissa in total shock. "But it's only 9:45." She stretches curfew to the last minute every night.

"Yeah, well, this girl has a stupidity level to rival a certain Ms. Hilton's. How many times can you say that he broke up with her?" She glanced at Dan quickly. "Hi. Dan, right? Oh God, Catie, she's coming." She pulled me to my feet.

"Um, alright. Bye," I said to Dan. And oddly enough, i didnt want to leave. I wanted to sit there for the last fifteen minutes and talk about Converse solidarity and what kind of machine that you would have to use to get his brother off of Miss Cindy Lou Who. I wanted to tell him about the nickname, too.

But Melissa's like a tornado. You just have to get spun up into her crazy ciclone and hope she deposits you at your house instead of Oz (or worse, Kansas), because then you have to deal with munchkins singing at you and Glinda and uncomfortable sequin 80's-esque shoes that won't come off (the biggest nightmare ever) and a witch with a major grudge. Although I totally beleive in the whole Elphaba, wicked-witch-was-framed version in Wicked.

"See you," he said. And who knows, maybe i would have processed it.

But then Melissa grabbed my arm and started running and i stopped thinking and concentrated on making my feet go as fast as hers.

Wednesday, November 29, 2006


Dunno if i spelled that right.

I have all of chapter 3 and most of chapter 4. Chapter 4 is fun to write, because i introduce Emmalee and Erin, twin sisters extrordanaire. It's cool because...well i won't ruin it. It's just that they're twins but they're not drones, and they have very fun personalities to write about. Emmalee is an evil bitch fairie of death, and Erin is her brainless yes-girl, A.K.A. her Jules. Long story.

So my french teacher finally cracked. Screamed a bunch. I laughed. Then we did some thing in social studies where we divided up into three groups to represent the religious devisions in Iraq. We had the Sports Players (Shiites), the Musicians (Kurds, i was part of this group), and the Miscellaneous (Sunnis). We had to have different languages and different beleifs and a leader/spokesperson.

Now, i am not exactly the most outspoken in class because some of the people intimidate me. But when i'm with a bunch of the "musicians", they're all my friends or people who i'm not afraid of. So since i talk the loudest of all of them, i made most of the rules. And when mr. holmes said "pick your spokesperson", they all picked me except stu cuz he wanted to be it. *sticks out tounge*. but seriously, even travis picked me, and one of the rules that i made was "travis may not talk under any circumstances." then guys acted like borat and kissed behind mr. holmes's back and a girl started speaking Iclandic..

Just another average day.

Saturday, November 25, 2006


We are...the white hot chilly penguins!!! "I'm the hot. He's the white." lol ignore that.

We are...stupid. They put the entire drumstick in my room. Wait drumstick?? Drum SET. now they wanna move my stero and i'm like "in a word, no. in two words, no way."

We are...the most insane family ever. Not really. Us kids are insano. We have listened to Fergalicious 77 times on the compy and at least 30 on the cd that i stupidly made. Now i have to do "Dirty Little Secret" and "Move Along." I also have to take a shower but i can't until like forever because emma is in one and abby is in the other. Then I'm going to try to bribe someone with a license to take me to the WaWa for batteries. It's only like a mile away. I could walk but it's on a huge curvy hilly road. If one of my aunts or uncles say "walk there" i will scream.

We are...taking so many pix on my phone. But we need to take one on my camera since my fone has crappy quality. Luke is wearing a marching band coat and hat. Andy is wearing sunglasses. Abby is going to wear my tinkerbell costume (if i can find it) and a side ponytail. Emma is wearing a plaid skirt, jeans, a gray shirt, purple lipstick and a "nose ring" that's actually a stick-on rhinestone. I'm wearing the dress i wore to the dance, my superhigh tops, a tie and an army hat. Oh, and lipstick.

We are...ready to go. Byeaz!

Friday, November 24, 2006


Things are suck right now. Luke hid the dartboard and andy wants to find it and luke is giving him clues. "you're cold. warm. warmer. hot! hot! you're like burning inferno man!"

Everyone else got presents and stuff. Maybe i did too. Maybe i didnt. Whatevvvvvvvvvvs.

Oh hey i did. I got a bag. It's khaki. It matches Ello's jacket! Study hallllll....

I am seriously beginning to regret buying Fergalicious. No wait. I'm past beginning to regret it. I REGRET it. I don't know why i even DID it, much less why i made luke and andy a cd with it or showed them where the damn boom box was. HERRRRRRGGGG!!

So. Stuff. Stuff. Stuff. Stuffffff.....i ran out of words. Luke can talk.

look, im making words hahaha. im slow just so everybody knows... teehee.

Blue is me. me is Andy. umm forgot what i was gonna say

he kept writing men is andy....... hahahe. ummm ummm HI.!.??▲├Ñ╚]§ ó
^^^ see what i mean? teeheehahetee.

i like adding stuff. i mean crap teehee.

I like my man blue. Im goin downstairs.

to do what *winks*

micheal jackson....0_o

CÄ47æ7ææ657~≥4○5897E8767╙56Y7654o65○87654f87"87546>fff‼█4ÄA 1Ä»█▀e╖├Ä.█A§654│D{ weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEE whats gona mess what up? i cfant type......... asee? lmaoo.................................................

i think that's a family charachteristic luke. my cousin ryan is screaming and crying. luke looks at him like"...hi." and all during that ^^ he was like "WOAH a line!! WOAH a block!! WOAH.....ANOTHER LINE!!"

well its hard to pretend yur andy because his writing is blue and mine is red............ teehee......!

you could just change the color.

i knoed. i l i k e s p a c e s . i l i k e m y s p a c e s . . . . . . . . . . . . . .................... .................... ......Å. HAH the dot went on top of the A...funny.

That is possibly the coolest A i have ever seen ever. Besides like everything

hi im ali...... nvm lol.

see i'm smarter than the boy who threw the basketball in the lake (almost)

well....... im smarterer.... so ha....HA ............ HA

that took way too much effort to make that ha really big....alksdfisdjkldsfjklk. there. wait i still don't feel better. asdfsdfiosdfjiosdfjioIO;AWEFJSUKX,ERCIOWERIOP FCJIOPs. I'm better.

ya ........ ^ what a noob..... noob, newb smae difrence.

Smae!! That's almost as cool as Douge.

omg douge, the pimpsta lol............................... i like ffr. haha haha ha ha ahhahahaaaaaa
no really? ya i like ffr..... nuhuh.... yuhuh.... arguing with yourself is SO MUCH FUN wooooooohhhhhoooooooooooooooo
^that reminds me of sims2 lmao, inside joke.

bleahg. Mom+Douge 4eva. Not MY mom or anything.....Ace Young is singing about being naked. Here's why this song makes no sense: he says "let me be your father figure" and then says the lyrics "lying warm and naked by your side." so you can assume that this person regularly gets naked with their father. to which i say. EW.

heres what i say about this^: i forgot what i wa gona say.. hold does sombodies dad go make love to them....... unless yur a purv,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, <

#of words spelled wrong there: 6

oh... lol well i like being stupid omg its fun. um this song is retarded.

oh i know and it goes on FOREVER. Actually it's about to end....wait for it...wait for it...wait for iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit......there!! ace young is such a whiner.

you meant man-whore*


i was waiting...... for what? i dont nowe. knoe, know! ya thats right eh? no im not canadian..... im just aposer... =D yay im normal again! woohoo, god damnit i sopell everything worng!!!!!!!!!?!!!!!!!!!!!

that ? looks very lonely. I'll make him some friends. ????? my 1 yr old cousin is taking away the boom box. why is he unsupervised again? he just took out the cd and almost broke it...hee.

haha im a sack of potatoes...........

yeah cuz andy likes to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder wink wink.

was that a dis?!


i think it was! the lights went off omg! =D ill make it huge! i dont know what to say now, wheres andy? ali says go get andy so ill brb......

what to do, what to music just said "who" and i typed "who to do" by accident. The lights went out and me and luke turned around and looked at my uncle at the exact same time liek "..." And luke can do the same hair flip as me!!!

I cant do that hair flip
Do it Ali
no way

They're trying to get me to watch a tom cruise movie. My escape artist cousin is rolling up OH SHIZZ he just totally escaped on his own. only not cuz well....eherm. he had a bit of assistance from someone who TOTALLY wasnt andy.

totally...... lol
i can do the emo hair flippy thingy hahaha. that reminds me of this girl in my school who everybody thinks she emo..... hahaha well she has those like.... arm thingys that you wear like on yur wrist? and stuff..... like the hair over one eye.,.. that reminds me of when i used to be emo, it was pretty fun hahaf»ºÅÿF2▼2nh↑⌠4K47954•4J

Luke is doing his emo dance. He just made that that little screen pop up that says "HELP AND STUFF". Luke has just had the shocking revelation that you can get dizzy from headbanging. To which i say, welcome to me and kim's little club.

i wana be in the club.... yay im in cool the headbangers club, i love this club you all should be in this club....................

club club club. wow this is LONG. Ryan was playing with a dartboard. Greaaaaaaaat. So i'm gonna go throw things at tom cruises head. Luke wanna come?

how come ali is black...... lol that sounded wierd ............. BYYEYEYYEE

SO i had to add this:

Luke: Can YOU lick your hair Andy? huh? can you? *licks hair*
Me: I can lick MY hair! *licks hair*
LuKe: LoOk Im lIcKiNg My hAiR HAHAHA *licks hair*
Andy: *attempts to lick hair*
Luke: You could lick your hair, you'd just have to cut it off first.

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Early Postage


Hello, sun.

Oh wait.

My mistake.

There is no sun.

There is rain.

I don't want to go to marching band.

I don't want to go anywhere.

I want to stay where I am, which is sitting down here in my "living" room (most living does not go on here, as you're not even allowed to put your feet on the couches) in flannel pj pants and a big fleece blanket.

Cousins are coming today.

The potatoes have grown evil little mutants.

Oh wait.

My dad says they're called eyes.

My brother just came. He says hello. Then he asked my dad why he was chopping up erasers.

They weren't erasers.

They were sweet potatoes.

And now i will give you the cousin lowdown in order of age: Andy Luke Abby Thomas Ashton Jake Kyle Ryan. All of the A's are siblings, luke and thomas are siblings, and the last three are siblings. Ages range from 14 (me) to 1 (ryan). That's right. I am the oldest. That is not not not not good.

Because guess who gets blamed for all of the chaos?


Chapter 3 is taking a while, srry about that one.

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

My System

This is how I read my books: I start out with Without You (autobiography of Anthony Rapp where everyone dies). When that gets too depressing, I turn to Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist. As soon as Nick starts talking (and generally emo-ing all over the place), i go to Inkspell. When that gets confusing, I either A. Go back to the first book, Inkheart, and look up whatever it was and then continue, or B. go back to Nick and Nora. If neither of those are too depressing, after a while, I go back to Without You.

I have recently realized that i must be a very annoying person to watch a movie with. A few minutes ago (20 to be exactly exact) i finished watching Men in Black (it was on TV) for the first time with my brother and sister, during which i kept commenting on the ugliness of the suits and why the heck the aliens always have to take the GIRL and put a gun to her head instead of shooting the guys who are standing there like "Derrrr", and i kept figuring out the plot before stuff actually happened because movies are intensely predictable and yelling out "OOH! I know what's gonna happen!" and telling my bro and sis what was going to happen and then i held a pillow in front of my head for the last ten or so minutes of the movie until they thought the alien was dead but then he was moving and i started yelling "He's coming up behind you! He's coming up behind--" and then it popped up and i gave a piercing shreik and hid my face in the couch. Then they changed the suits at the end and guess what? They were uglier.

Cousins are coming 2morrow. Yerg.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Boredom and How Crazy It Can Make You

okay so will is here and he is bored. When will is bored he starts to beat on me and my sister. so i decided to let them post on my blog instead of throwing each other. Okay? Okay. As per usual, will is orange, emma is purple.

everybody stinks that means you ali's freind. BHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!MULE pelvick thrust!!! you are repugnent. (that was the part that he typed. then i jsut started typing whatever he said.) AAAAH (sasquatch yell). Uhh, you can yell 'master' i guess. Oh yeah, and i need to type something. (will typing) whoever is reading this Ali is weird. (me typing) Reading me? Uhh sure. Alright, it's emma's turn.

Emma, it's your turn. Emma. Emma! She's being beaten. Emma, you can write now. Okay, here she comes. Will, get off her leg.

He's trying to attack my leg! it's funny. but that sounds gross. Will, stop trying to attack my leg. *sounds of mass fighting* OW! You little--! *screams something incomprehensible that i can't type fast enough to get* You little toot like a fruit! (?????) It seemed right at the time cuz it rhymed. Hey, that rhymes too! Time, rhyme...not really. (okay now emma is going to type.) i am mass restler! Brother to annoying, cant stand wierdness, must fight back!!!! Srry bout that dog, but yeah watever. Bored......Bye Peoples. Two JEFFSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

well, that was counterproductive. let's see, let's see...ooh quotes from The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy! Yay! But there's too many, so i'll just put my fave:

"It's you and me against the world. We attack at dawn."--Mandy


This is Dory. I am using her as a visual aid in the following blog post.
Dory and I are very similar. Not because I'm a fish, which is what Will said. Or because her eyes are a really cool magenta color. No, we're similar because we both have some sort of short term memory loss.
I'm dead serious. Three times of seeing Reckless and i can practically recite it from memory. I can do the same things with books I've read only once or twice. But if you ask me something else like what i said on this day and blah blah blah, I'll have no idea what you're talking about.
Two examples: 1) Molly says that I was ignoring her. I have been accused like 5000000000 times of ignoring people, but it's because of this: I'll be walking with say Molly at that Cornicopia thingy and I'll see Elizzy and remember something i have to tell her so then i'll walk away from Molly and start talking to Elizzy and by the time i'm done talking we'll be in a whole different gym and I'll have forgotton who I was talking to ten minutes before. Then I'll remember but i'll see soemone else and the whole process starts all over again. Also, if i am thinking about something else and someone is talking, i can zone out so totally that i don't hear the person. Not that i'm ignoring them, i just seriously don't HEAR them, i'm that zoned out.
2) Unnamed Friend said that I told him that i think i like someone. I have no memory of this and try to think back to when this may have happened, and i have no idea who i would have been talking about, and then i start freaking out because OMG what if i do like someone but i FORGOT and that's a bit of a scary thought and then Unnamed Friend goes "why won't you just tell me" and i'm panicking because i have no idea when i said that or about who.
So goes the tale of my Dory-like memory. Oh and also just to adress this: I am good at keeping secrets, i really am, as long as they're actually secrets. like who you like or something. I don't tell people about people liking other people, because that's stupid and mean. If it's something like someone broke up, that's not really a secret, so i'm a little less concerned about keeping it because everyone will know in like five seconds anyways. Yeah, that's pretty much it.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Imperfection, Chapter 2

There was this complete and total awkward silence. And before i tell you anything else, I should tell you about the Baums. They were, I knew from hearing them talk to my mom, the type of Southern people who did everthing in a very...twangy way. Like how they ended all of their sentances with "if you don't mind" or "yes ma'am/sir" and called each other "Mrs." and "Mr." Also, they werent very accustomed to seeing chaos of any sort, as, according to Mr. Baum, chaos tends to "upset the little lady" (can you hear me screaming?)

The man (Mr. Fred Baum, if you don't mind) stared. The woman (Miss Caroline Amber, if you don't mind) gasped. The boy (whoever he was) looked close to laughing.

"Ah...oh dear," Miss Amber-if-you-don't-mind said. "What on EARTH is going on in here?"

"Oh, it was just..." a huge glob of creme filling glopped onto the floor. Great. That just helps SO much. "...see, I was making these donuts, well, creme-filled, actually, which are different from donuts cuz they have no holes so they're more like pastries, and I can handle some other pastry-ISH things, and donuts, but creme-filled are different because..." You've been here before. I realized that i was blabbering. "Anyways, there was a hole and I wanted to figure it out and then it just sort of...kaboom," I finished lamely.

"Oh, dear me." Great. "Miss Amber" (why does her name sound so ridiculous to me?) was showing all the signs of a freakout dead ahead. "Does that happen often, if you don't mind? Becaus the cake needs to be perfect. If the cake isnt perfect, I don't know WHAT I'll do." And here came the tears. Instead of feeling bad for her like a normal person would, I started screaming at her in my head, as I'm apt to do during cases like this.

Good greif. It's just a stupid donut. "Don't worry, Miss Amber..."

Oh, now you're going to go all manly-manly and put your hand on her shoulder, huh? " mother is making your cake, not me..."

I bet you think I'd put poison in it. Well, i wouldnt. Where could i get poison around here? "...and she has never blown up a baked good in her entire career."

This seemed to calm them down. And now that you mention that cake... "Um, is there a problem, by the way? With the cake, I mean." Please do not say you want to change it. For your own good and mine. I don't think my mom could handle that right now without strangling herself, you, or me, and we do not need homicides or suicides right now.

"Oh, no," she assured me. "The cake is just perfect, yes ma'am. Perfect." But...

"But..." There it was. "We just wanted to check up on things, you know, to make sure. If you don't mind." I had a pretty concrete feeling that my mom was SO going to mind. I could already imagine what she would be telling me and my dad at the dinner table. "She says she comes to check up on the cake! Does SHE have twenty-five years of experience? No. Does she have even a little tiny clue what would be wrong if there WAS something wrong? And the cake isnt even baked yet! She's going to go and have a panic attack!" The mom in my head was getting annoying, so I shut her up, gave the Baums a totally fake smile, and called for my mom. "Mom! The Baums are here!" If you werent related, you couldnt hear the sarcasm in my voice. You also wouldnt be able to see how my mom turned off the blender, banged her head against it a couple of times, then put on an equally fake smile and came out of the back to greet them. You couldnt see that because, well, you wouldnt be allowed behind the counter.

That was when i noticed that guy standing there behind them. And that i still had the remnants of a creme-filled donut on my hands. "I'll be with you in a second."

After washing all of the donut off of my hands, face and hair, I came back out. He was still, surprisingly, there. And he didnt look even a tad pissed off. Most human beings, I have noticed, have very little tolerance for waiting for anything. I don't know why, because I'm used to it. Waiting for things to bake, waiting for them to find all their spare change, waiting for my shift to be over. But the general population seems to have a problem with it. Exibit A: McDonalds.

"I'll take you over here." I waved him over to the second register that had been my parent's anniversary present. "What can I help you with?"


"Hi." What???

"I'm Henry."

"Hi, I'm Catie. Would you like to buy something?"

"So I'm in town for a wedding," Henry said like I hadnt said a word.

Who isnt? "Oh, really? Whose?"

"Theirs," he nodded towards the other side of the store, where my mom was smiling up and the Baums (she's kind of short) and ominously twisting her apron around in a manner which suggested that she would rather it be their necks.

"Oh, that's nice." Frankly, I was bored already. This guy had this air about him like he thought he was the greatest thing to happen since, well, anything. He had popular clothes, popular shoes, and even Popular Hair (big, long and blonde).

"So I was thinking," he said with a smile that looked more like a smirk, "maybe you wanted to get a hot dog after the wedding, or even later today. Maybe hang out."

"I'm a vegitarian." Which is true, but i said it in a very cold way. Now that i knew what he wanted, I wasnt going to bother with my Customer Manners. Because these wedding guests, they look at the happy ending and the Couples being all perfect, and they get depressed. They want to find someone to be vomitously adorable with. The girls just sit around and sigh. The guys, however, look for someone to "hang out" with.

And while "hanging out" means "talking and possibly getting some strawberry icing" to most normal people, "hanging out" to wedding-goers means "shoving their tounge in your mouth until the reception is over and not calling the next day."

Now he looked annoyed that I hadnt picked up on his subtleness. "See, the hot dog wasn't really the point--"

"Are you going to buy something?" I asked, drawing myself up to my not-so-impressive 5 foot 5.

"C'mon, all I was asking is if you wanted to--"

"If you're not going to buy something, you have to leave," I cut in.

"Fine. That." He pointed to the chocolate rabbit that was about as old as me and only for decoration. But I wasn't going to tell him that. "So, what do you say?"

"Your total comes to $11.50," I said, shoving the poor bunny into the bag.

"That much for a stupid chocolate Easter Bunny?" Then he realized that this wasnt the best way to get me to "hang out" with him. "I mean...sure." He handed me a 20.

"Your change is $8.50," I said, ripping off the receipt.

"Hey, if you didnt want to hang out, you should have said soemthing."

"Fine. I don't want to hang out."


"Have a nice day," I said in a way that meant the exact opposite.

"Fine!" He grunted like a spoiled three-year-old.

Then he walked out.

We didnt end up meeting in a bizzare twist of fate.

He didnt turn out to be sweet and shy under the popular exterior.

We never had one of those Big Moments that you always see in the movies.

I never saw him again.

Friday, November 17, 2006

Imperfection, Chapter 1

And if you're thinking about changing my direction-
Don't mess with imperfection.
--Imperfection, Saving Jane

"Hellllllloooooooo, Anicca Hill! It's 7:30 Tuesday morning and a beatiful 85 degrees outside. Time to wake up and smell the summer!"

My eyes snapped halfway open, like in a horror movie. I didn't want to wake up and smell the summer. I wanted to sleep. I karate-chopped it weakly. No luck. The announcer blared on, the noise filling my small bedroom.

So I did the only logical thing.

I ripped it out of the wall and opened my window.

I dangled it out of the window by the cord as the theme song played (my mom made me get a clock with backup batteries after it was "mysteriously" pulled out of my wall too many times), looking for some sign that i shouldnt drop it.

"Today we'll be playing a 6-hour marathon of disco hits, followed by the greatest songs of Phil Collins!"

Bombs away.


I didnt want to wake up and smell the summer.

My summer smelled like the rest of my year.

Like cake.

I live in a town called Annica Hill on a street known unofficially as The Wedding Walk by everyone who lives around here. The tourists and Couples call it "Rose Blossom Lane." Ew.

The town is named for, you guessed it, the gigantic hill just where all the sidewalks stop. One second you're walking on pavement, and the next it's grass. It's great for sledding and leaf-pile-jumping during winter and fall, but in summer and spring, it (like the entire town but especially Wedding Walk) is lousy with theatrical Couples, crying and saying "You're ruining my perfect day!" while the photographer snips at kids and chases them away.

Couples, noun. A pair of people, commonly one male and one female, who are engaged or married and totally disgusting together. They often sit in little cafe's and gaze into each other's eyes saying revolting things like "I love you, snookums." "No, I love YOU, honey bunches." "I love you more, sweet pea." "No, I love YOU more, teddy bear." Can also apply to extreme cases of people who are just dating and start every sentance with "My girl/boyfriend" and bore everyone with every detail of their signifigant other's traits. Avoid at all costs.

Wedding Walk is named this because of how it is set up: A photography place, a dress store, the bakery that my dad owns, a catery, this really odd-type tailor/dry-cleaners/tux rental thing, a card store, and a decoration place. Everyone lives in the apartment above their store besides the very frowned-upon photography people. It all ends with this stretch that's officially another street that has a reception-type place at the very beginning. Across the road is the building that doubles as a synogouge and a church and pretty much anything else. It's ridiculous.

Summer and spring are the busiest because of the weather. This is bad for two reasons. 1.) When I'm getting ready for finals, i have to keep running downstairs and checking that that batch of dessert whatevers arent burning to a crisp. 2.) Once i'm actually DONE with the stress of school and finals, i still have to help my parents with the store and, on days when the wedding is going on, watch all of the little kids on the street with my best friend Melissa. That's not all that bad because we can get away from the bakery (me) and the dress store (her) and hand out at the park and on the hill. We actually started putting up fliers for a wedding babysitting service. That's where we made the mistake. One day these wedding people started slyly (or so they thought) dumping their bratty kids into the mix. Which actually turned out not to be so bad after a while, because we were allowed to charge them. My mom has issues with A) Our taking money from them and B) Our not-so-organized-to-the-human-eye system of how we charge them (based on brattiness of kid, rudeness of parent, if the kid starts a fight, sobriety of parent at pickup time, etc.). But what doesnt my mom have issues with?

Today it was the fact that as Benny, one of the caterers, was sweeping the sidewalk, like he always does when there will most likely be Couples around, he found the crumbled remains or an alarm clock on the ground.

"That clock cost money, Catarina Julianne," she snapped at me as i walked downstairs into the store wearing the uniform (jean shorts, black t-shirts, pink apron) and tying back my hair. "You're paying for that with whatever comission you get today."

I sighed and blew my overlong bangs out of my face. "Mom,what other 15-yer-old girl do you know who has to wake up early on the first day of summer? Can you blame me?"

The answer written across her face was a resounding "Yes."

"We have a big deal wedding coming up in three days, and this cake is stressing me out enough without your theatrics," she said. "Go back and make those donuts that those people wanted."

I stared at the piece of paper she had handed me. "Creme-flilled?"


" want ME to do this?"

My mother threw her hands up in the air. "Catarina Julianne, I don't have TIME for this. Your father is on a delivery, and they will throw a fit if they don't have their...their darn donuts!"

What told me to back off: Darn is the closest that my mom ever comes to cursing. Also the fact that she was using my entire full name when i have serious violent tendancies toward anyone who calls me Catarina instead of Catie.

So i went in the back and started to make the stupid things. Now, despite what most people might think, i am not automatically a master baker just because my mom and dad are really good at it. Cake is fine. I can do the cake. I can even decorate the cake. Normal donuts are fine as well, along with cookies. But nothing as complicated and creme-filled donuts. Stop laughing! It's actually really complicated! *smashes chair over laughing person's head* There, that's better.

Anyways, it went rather well until the end, when i noticed that one of them was oozing the yellow creme. I just couldnt tell where it was coming from.

So, since I am an idiot, I put on a pair of those disposable plastic gloves, picked it up, wiped the creme off of the outside, and squeezed.

Bam. The entire thing exploded, sending waves of yellow liquidated sugar over my hands, not to mention that it splattered all over my hair and face.

For a second i just stared at it in shock. Then I started to laugh like a crazy person.

The bell on the door rang at that exact moment. Of course.

I assumed that it was a neighbor coming to confier with my mom about the Baum wedding, who would laugh, or my dad coming back from his deliver, who would laugh harder. So i ran out, still lauging, still covered with donut guts.

Then i saw who it was, and stopped laughing.

A Couple.

The Baums, to be precise.

And behind them was a guy.

A guy i didnt recognize, to be precise.

A guy who wasn't actually bad-looking, but staring at me like i was a moron, to be

I opened my mouth, wanting to come up with A) a snappy comeback to show them that i wasnt totally mentally deficient or B) and apology to show the Baums that i wasnt going to do the same thing to their cake.

"Hi, welcome to Stewart's Baked Goods and Confections. How may I help you?"