WARNING: Super shortness alert. The reason? I wrote part 13 before i wrote this one. This is just something that i should have put at the end of 11 but didnt. But it's technically still a part. Expect P13 out tomorrow.
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I walked out of the auditorium, laughing with Eric. I don't even think that i remember why anymore. It was a week since our little movies thing (don't you dare say a date), and things had almost regressed back to normal. But why did i choose that word regressed? It had GONE back to normal, because regressed makes it sound like what we had had before was bad. And it definatley wasnt. But...well, let me get to the part that you're concerned about.
The cars were lining up, trying to get out of the bus circle before the rush came, unaware that they had become part of the rush. I was wearing my Elphaba dress and the super-high-heel witch boots that make me taller than Eric (yay for 3 inch heels!). I scanned the freezing parking lot for my parent's car, but they were nowhere to be found. I was really cold in the thin dress, but i didnt dare mention it to Eric or he'd try to somehow get off the army coat thing that he was wearing and give it to me.
"Grrr, where are they?" I said, teeth chattering, jumping up and down and almost falling due to the boots.
"I think i see them over there," Eric said, pulling me over to the corner of the parking lot. No luck. They were nowhere. I leaned against a tree and tapped my foot, trying to keep warm. Eventually Eric started talking. I don't remember about what, besides this:
"Phillips seems to really hate your attempts at "romantic Fiyero," I said, laughing at the teacher's term.
"It's not my genre, the whole happy endings thing. I'm better at being cynical, personally."
"Yeah but..." I kicked a pebble across the lot. "Doesnt everybody sort of want that a little bit? I do...sort of." Why are you telling him this? "I know it's stupid, but..."
"Nah, i guess you're right." That was the last thing i expected him to say.
"Don't think it'll happen to me, though," I said, turning around.
All of a sudden he was really close to me.
"It could happen," he said quietly.
And then it happened.
He leaned toward me slowly, closing his eyes.
This is it.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Sunday, October 22, 2006
A Little Stuff (WTM??) a.k.a pictures.
Remember the pointless water pot thing from the P 11? Well, it exists. Sitting right there on my fireplace, rountinley knocked over. It actually does make a noise loud enough to be heard through the walls.
This is what i was wearing while writing P9, 10 and 11. Purple lipstick and a Detroit Tigers baseball hat. It just makes me write better, even if it does look odd. This looked especially funny with what i was wearing yesterday, which was a skirt and boots. That hat gives me the worst hat hair ever.
A shot of my nail polish bag. Just thought it looked cool.
ARGH!!!! *kicks things*
okay.
so there used to be a crazy manaical type post here.
because i was pissed
and iTunes is ripping me off
and how Eric is a fictional character
but somehow sam actually calmed me down instead of making me madder
and i got off the crazy bitch train
sorry bout that.
P 11 is below.
Go read things.
so there used to be a crazy manaical type post here.
because i was pissed
and iTunes is ripping me off
and how Eric is a fictional character
but somehow sam actually calmed me down instead of making me madder
and i got off the crazy bitch train
sorry bout that.
P 11 is below.
Go read things.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Blog Story, P11
One day left. It was the middle of November, and there was only one day left until Wicked. Mr. Phillips was so stressed that he actually let us go home early.
On the way out, Eric was nervous. No, scratch that, he had been looking nervous for a while now. There would be these awkward silences every ten minutes. It was like, one second we were talking and laughing and the next it was like...nothing. He kept starting sentances with "Hey, do you....never mind," or "Are you....nothing."
I was in the middle of a very bad Squidward impression (my younger siblings are having a majorly negative impact on my intelligence) when he said, "Hey, do you want to go see a movie or somethingon Saturday?"
"Sure," I said, and then, because i'm clueless, "who else is coming?"
"Um, no one."
On the outside my reaction was this: A smile and "Oh, that's cool too." On the inside, i had completley freaked out. Was he asking me out? No, he couldnt be. We were friends, and i've gone to the movies alone with a friend tons of times. Yes, but those were all girls. You've only been in a group with him, and it was only that one time because all his other friends sang along to the songs and then you accidentally-on-purpose spilled buttered popcorn all over that girl with the big hair and she screamed like you had lit her sweater on fire and gave you evil looks and then you both agreed afterwards that going to movies, at least ones that were musicals, with his friends was a bad idea.
Still. It was ERIC we were talking about here. So, i concluded, it was impossible.
But...
Is it really?
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"Fiyero...! Oh, thanks a plenty, dearest. He's gone to fetch me a refreshment."
Eric came runing backstage. "Yeah, I'll fetch her something," he muttered in my ear. I laughed silently to avoid the dirty looks that Mr. Phillips had been giving me ever since i had tripped and (gasp) smudged my face makeup right before the first scene. But other than that "catastrophe" (not), the show was going pretty well.
"Elphaba, that's your cue! Move! Move!" I ran onstage and...well, i don't really remember much from the actual play, considering that i get this really great natural high from acting, and i can hardly remember anything afterwards. If i tried to describe it, you'd be like, "What was this girl on at the time?" so i'm not going to even bother. All i know is that at the end of the play we went out to take our bows and it felt really good, for a Woodland musical.
Also that I heard a very small but very loud voice yell "GO BEVERAGE!"
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"I told you didnt I? I told you! I knew it, i knew it, i knew it. Didnt i say that he liked you?" Vanessa ranted, bouncing up and down. It was a few minutes after the curtain had dropped, and a couple of people were trying to get her unstrapped from the wheelchair that she had to be in as Nessa. She kept falling out, so the set designers had to make a seiries of really complicated seatbelts to make sure that she stayed in place. Now they were looking like they wanted to strangle themselves, considering that after i told her about the whole eric thing she was now freaking out and bouncing and wiggling around and generally making their job 1000000x harder than it was before.
"I did say that he liked you," she continued.
"Stay still," grunted the senior who was trying to undo the wires on the back of the chair.
"I am staying still."
"Well, stay stiller."
"Stiller, as in Ben?"
"Not funny," I said.
"I know. But let me just say-" and she screamed loud enough to break the eardrums of every single person in the place. The stage crew guy stood up and yelled "Fine, you can just untangle yourself!"
Vanessa laughed and said, "Great. Help, please." I bent down and tried to figure out how high on a scale of 1 to 10 (1 being Mr. Rodgers, 10 being the guys in Guns&Roses) the stage crew had been when they thought of this "brilliant" idea. "So what movie are you seeing?"
"I have no idea, but i hope it's not a musical."
"Why?"
"Long story." I found the last harness thing and unclipped it. She slid out of the seat and stretched. "But i really don't think it's a...date." Just saying that word was more trouble than it should have been. "This IS Eric that we're talking about."
"I still don't get why you won't even consider the fact that he might be interested in you. He flirts with you all the time."
"You know who else he flirts with? George, Brian, Mike, and Tom. And me. But the difference is that it's not REAL flirting. It's fake flirting, because he knows that he would never go out with any of us in a million years. With them it's because they're guys. With me it's because...i don't know." At this point we had walked into the little mini "dressing room" things that they had installed to make Phillips stop whining. There was one for girls and one for boys, but people mostly just used bathroom stalls to change in. I sat down at the little sink and started rubbing green off of my cheek.
"Do you like him, though?" Vanessa asked.
I thought about denying it once again. But there wasnt really much point. "The complete true answer in one word is no. The complete true answer in more than one word is that maybe i could, but i've never let myself consider it."
"Why?"
"Because people ask him out all the time. Because he seems sensitive and nice and he'll be all chivalrous sometimes and they'll start to read too much into it. Then they'll come up and ask him and he'll turn them down but be really nice about it. And i don't want to be one of the many. Honestly, for anything to happen, he would have to make the first move. But...what am i talking about? Because it'll never happen." Vanessa was silent for a minute while i watched the green paint swirl around in the sink three times before disappearing totally.
"Sounds like you like him."
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I walked around the room for a fourth time. This was odd. It was really odd. Only it wasnt. Because we were just friends. Right? Right.
...
Right?
The doorbell rang, and even though i was expecting it, i jumped like five feet in the air.
I walked over to the door and took a deep breath. I opened it and there he was...
The mailman.
"Um, hi."
"Package for Mrs. Harriet Herdman?"
"Yeah, that's me," I lied, grabbing the paper and signing my mom's signature. She and Dad had taken my siblings out to dinner. It was so cute watching them be all parent-ish. I sign for my parents all the time anyways, since they're never here. People get a little suspicious when i tell them that i'm John, but when i put on this extremely hurt face and say "But Mommy said i was normal," they tend not to pry.
"Hey." Eric had walked up to my door while the mailman was standing there.
"Hey, I'll be there in a sec." I hauled the package inside. Whatever it was, it was heavy.
"So I guess I've got some competition," he joked, nodding in the direction of the departing mail truck.
"Oh yeah, because postage stamps really turn me on these days." He lauged and opened the back door of his mom's car. I know, I know, what a hot date, but you can't walk anywhere from my house, and neither of us are old enough to drive yet.
Once we were in the car, his mom totally started to put me through the third degree. Isn't it the guy who's supposed to go through that? But i just smiled a lot and was very polite and we were best friends by the time she dropped us off. If there is one thing my parents have drilled into me (besides to never sign a contract without a lawyer present), it's manners.
After waiting in a horrendously long line to get to the ticket booth, Eric tried to get tickets to that new movie with Ben Stiller in it. "Sorry, that movie's sold out," said the very bored-looking dude working the little microphone thing.
The only other things playing were three horror flicks (immediatley off the list since i can't stand freaky movies), four movies that were rated R and we couldnt get into, and...
"Two tickets to Yours, Mine, and Ours, please."
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"Jumping off a building."
"That's not original enough."
"Shooting myself with a potato gun five thousand times. I would live, but i would be in really bad pain."
"Alright..." Eric said, "Throwing myself into a giant paper shredder."
"Shhhhhhhhhh!" The lady in front of us hissed.
"Listening to George play clarinet for ten straight hours."
"Reenacting that Monty Python skit, The Idiot Race or whatever it was called. The one where you have to run yourself over with a car."
"Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
"Being eaten alive by ravenous worms."
"Worms don't have teeth."
"Exactly."
"Nice. Watching this movie for the rest of my life."
"That doesnt make any sense," I whispered. "You would rather watch this movie for the rest of your life than watch this movie?"
"You would rather be eaten by worms than watch this movie?"
"They have no teeth, so it'd be slow, plus i hate worms so it would be totally gross."
"SHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"
The lady in front of us was starting to look fairly homicidal, so we shut up. This was possibly the worst movie ever, and the Dennis Quaid factor didnt help. To amuse ourselves, Eric and i had been thinking of as many creative deaths as possible.
And the thing is that we never, ever had an awkward moment. He didnt do that whole corny thing that guys always do in movies, where they yawn and put their arm around the girl's chair. Not that i don't give the male species major props for thinking of a more subtle way to do that, but i didnt necessarily want Eric to go all..guy-ish on me. This was fine as far as i was concerned. Being morbid with Eric was much more fun than hanging out with Luke.
Even if it was against a backdrop of Drake Bell screaming a fake song in another steryotypical kid party.
We cheered when the movie was over. Not because it was good, but because the torture was over.
We laughed and talked on the way back. It was almost the exact same high that i got off of that audience watching me as someone else, only different, a little stranger.
Then we were at my house, and he was walking me up to my door, and i had forgotten all about how this was supposed to be awkward.
"And seriously, them painting the pig blue had to be some kind of animal rights violation. They should get the ASPCA called on them," I said, smiling and watching the little fog my breath made against the completley black sky. We reached the top step coming up to the door.
"So...this was nice," I said.
"Yeah. We should do it again sometime."
"Cool. Well..." All of a sudden this big crash came from my house, followed closely by an "Oops" and a wail. "Jeez. I leave for three hours and the entire place falls apart," I joked. "I should go."
"Okay." And it would have been normal if he had just left. But then, as i was opening the door, he touched my hand. I looked back and smiled at him. He smiled back, and i walked into my chaotic house.
Instead of dealing with the problem at hand (Craig had thrown a baseball at Dennis, which he had successfully ducked. The ball had hit this old watering pot type thing that has absoloutly no point that sits on our fireplace. It had hit Blaire on the leg and she immediatley started to cry), i walked through it all and sat on my couch, pretty much oblivious to everything going on.
What was going on here?
On the way out, Eric was nervous. No, scratch that, he had been looking nervous for a while now. There would be these awkward silences every ten minutes. It was like, one second we were talking and laughing and the next it was like...nothing. He kept starting sentances with "Hey, do you....never mind," or "Are you....nothing."
I was in the middle of a very bad Squidward impression (my younger siblings are having a majorly negative impact on my intelligence) when he said, "Hey, do you want to go see a movie or somethingon Saturday?"
"Sure," I said, and then, because i'm clueless, "who else is coming?"
"Um, no one."
On the outside my reaction was this: A smile and "Oh, that's cool too." On the inside, i had completley freaked out. Was he asking me out? No, he couldnt be. We were friends, and i've gone to the movies alone with a friend tons of times. Yes, but those were all girls. You've only been in a group with him, and it was only that one time because all his other friends sang along to the songs and then you accidentally-on-purpose spilled buttered popcorn all over that girl with the big hair and she screamed like you had lit her sweater on fire and gave you evil looks and then you both agreed afterwards that going to movies, at least ones that were musicals, with his friends was a bad idea.
Still. It was ERIC we were talking about here. So, i concluded, it was impossible.
But...
Is it really?
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Fiyero...! Oh, thanks a plenty, dearest. He's gone to fetch me a refreshment."
Eric came runing backstage. "Yeah, I'll fetch her something," he muttered in my ear. I laughed silently to avoid the dirty looks that Mr. Phillips had been giving me ever since i had tripped and (gasp) smudged my face makeup right before the first scene. But other than that "catastrophe" (not), the show was going pretty well.
"Elphaba, that's your cue! Move! Move!" I ran onstage and...well, i don't really remember much from the actual play, considering that i get this really great natural high from acting, and i can hardly remember anything afterwards. If i tried to describe it, you'd be like, "What was this girl on at the time?" so i'm not going to even bother. All i know is that at the end of the play we went out to take our bows and it felt really good, for a Woodland musical.
Also that I heard a very small but very loud voice yell "GO BEVERAGE!"
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"I told you didnt I? I told you! I knew it, i knew it, i knew it. Didnt i say that he liked you?" Vanessa ranted, bouncing up and down. It was a few minutes after the curtain had dropped, and a couple of people were trying to get her unstrapped from the wheelchair that she had to be in as Nessa. She kept falling out, so the set designers had to make a seiries of really complicated seatbelts to make sure that she stayed in place. Now they were looking like they wanted to strangle themselves, considering that after i told her about the whole eric thing she was now freaking out and bouncing and wiggling around and generally making their job 1000000x harder than it was before.
"I did say that he liked you," she continued.
"Stay still," grunted the senior who was trying to undo the wires on the back of the chair.
"I am staying still."
"Well, stay stiller."
"Stiller, as in Ben?"
"Not funny," I said.
"I know. But let me just say-" and she screamed loud enough to break the eardrums of every single person in the place. The stage crew guy stood up and yelled "Fine, you can just untangle yourself!"
Vanessa laughed and said, "Great. Help, please." I bent down and tried to figure out how high on a scale of 1 to 10 (1 being Mr. Rodgers, 10 being the guys in Guns&Roses) the stage crew had been when they thought of this "brilliant" idea. "So what movie are you seeing?"
"I have no idea, but i hope it's not a musical."
"Why?"
"Long story." I found the last harness thing and unclipped it. She slid out of the seat and stretched. "But i really don't think it's a...date." Just saying that word was more trouble than it should have been. "This IS Eric that we're talking about."
"I still don't get why you won't even consider the fact that he might be interested in you. He flirts with you all the time."
"You know who else he flirts with? George, Brian, Mike, and Tom. And me. But the difference is that it's not REAL flirting. It's fake flirting, because he knows that he would never go out with any of us in a million years. With them it's because they're guys. With me it's because...i don't know." At this point we had walked into the little mini "dressing room" things that they had installed to make Phillips stop whining. There was one for girls and one for boys, but people mostly just used bathroom stalls to change in. I sat down at the little sink and started rubbing green off of my cheek.
"Do you like him, though?" Vanessa asked.
I thought about denying it once again. But there wasnt really much point. "The complete true answer in one word is no. The complete true answer in more than one word is that maybe i could, but i've never let myself consider it."
"Why?"
"Because people ask him out all the time. Because he seems sensitive and nice and he'll be all chivalrous sometimes and they'll start to read too much into it. Then they'll come up and ask him and he'll turn them down but be really nice about it. And i don't want to be one of the many. Honestly, for anything to happen, he would have to make the first move. But...what am i talking about? Because it'll never happen." Vanessa was silent for a minute while i watched the green paint swirl around in the sink three times before disappearing totally.
"Sounds like you like him."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
I walked around the room for a fourth time. This was odd. It was really odd. Only it wasnt. Because we were just friends. Right? Right.
...
Right?
The doorbell rang, and even though i was expecting it, i jumped like five feet in the air.
I walked over to the door and took a deep breath. I opened it and there he was...
The mailman.
"Um, hi."
"Package for Mrs. Harriet Herdman?"
"Yeah, that's me," I lied, grabbing the paper and signing my mom's signature. She and Dad had taken my siblings out to dinner. It was so cute watching them be all parent-ish. I sign for my parents all the time anyways, since they're never here. People get a little suspicious when i tell them that i'm John, but when i put on this extremely hurt face and say "But Mommy said i was normal," they tend not to pry.
"Hey." Eric had walked up to my door while the mailman was standing there.
"Hey, I'll be there in a sec." I hauled the package inside. Whatever it was, it was heavy.
"So I guess I've got some competition," he joked, nodding in the direction of the departing mail truck.
"Oh yeah, because postage stamps really turn me on these days." He lauged and opened the back door of his mom's car. I know, I know, what a hot date, but you can't walk anywhere from my house, and neither of us are old enough to drive yet.
Once we were in the car, his mom totally started to put me through the third degree. Isn't it the guy who's supposed to go through that? But i just smiled a lot and was very polite and we were best friends by the time she dropped us off. If there is one thing my parents have drilled into me (besides to never sign a contract without a lawyer present), it's manners.
After waiting in a horrendously long line to get to the ticket booth, Eric tried to get tickets to that new movie with Ben Stiller in it. "Sorry, that movie's sold out," said the very bored-looking dude working the little microphone thing.
The only other things playing were three horror flicks (immediatley off the list since i can't stand freaky movies), four movies that were rated R and we couldnt get into, and...
"Two tickets to Yours, Mine, and Ours, please."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Jumping off a building."
"That's not original enough."
"Shooting myself with a potato gun five thousand times. I would live, but i would be in really bad pain."
"Alright..." Eric said, "Throwing myself into a giant paper shredder."
"Shhhhhhhhhh!" The lady in front of us hissed.
"Listening to George play clarinet for ten straight hours."
"Reenacting that Monty Python skit, The Idiot Race or whatever it was called. The one where you have to run yourself over with a car."
"Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
"Being eaten alive by ravenous worms."
"Worms don't have teeth."
"Exactly."
"Nice. Watching this movie for the rest of my life."
"That doesnt make any sense," I whispered. "You would rather watch this movie for the rest of your life than watch this movie?"
"You would rather be eaten by worms than watch this movie?"
"They have no teeth, so it'd be slow, plus i hate worms so it would be totally gross."
"SHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"
The lady in front of us was starting to look fairly homicidal, so we shut up. This was possibly the worst movie ever, and the Dennis Quaid factor didnt help. To amuse ourselves, Eric and i had been thinking of as many creative deaths as possible.
And the thing is that we never, ever had an awkward moment. He didnt do that whole corny thing that guys always do in movies, where they yawn and put their arm around the girl's chair. Not that i don't give the male species major props for thinking of a more subtle way to do that, but i didnt necessarily want Eric to go all..guy-ish on me. This was fine as far as i was concerned. Being morbid with Eric was much more fun than hanging out with Luke.
Even if it was against a backdrop of Drake Bell screaming a fake song in another steryotypical kid party.
We cheered when the movie was over. Not because it was good, but because the torture was over.
We laughed and talked on the way back. It was almost the exact same high that i got off of that audience watching me as someone else, only different, a little stranger.
Then we were at my house, and he was walking me up to my door, and i had forgotten all about how this was supposed to be awkward.
"And seriously, them painting the pig blue had to be some kind of animal rights violation. They should get the ASPCA called on them," I said, smiling and watching the little fog my breath made against the completley black sky. We reached the top step coming up to the door.
"So...this was nice," I said.
"Yeah. We should do it again sometime."
"Cool. Well..." All of a sudden this big crash came from my house, followed closely by an "Oops" and a wail. "Jeez. I leave for three hours and the entire place falls apart," I joked. "I should go."
"Okay." And it would have been normal if he had just left. But then, as i was opening the door, he touched my hand. I looked back and smiled at him. He smiled back, and i walked into my chaotic house.
Instead of dealing with the problem at hand (Craig had thrown a baseball at Dennis, which he had successfully ducked. The ball had hit this old watering pot type thing that has absoloutly no point that sits on our fireplace. It had hit Blaire on the leg and she immediatley started to cry), i walked through it all and sat on my couch, pretty much oblivious to everything going on.
What was going on here?
A Brief Interlude
So i havent posted anything but pictures or story for a long long while, so in honor of this, i am going to just talk for a little bit. No, don't run!!!
So marching band has been going pretty good, what with fungus and starbursts and will and keegan marching with me...hee. I have also only posted (counting this) 18 TIMES since september. that's a little (or a lot) odd for me. I dyed my hair red, but they dye is wearing off. And although i promised my parents that i wasnt going to do it over and over again...I'm leaning toward dark purple myself. Suggestions, anyone? I went into high school. I have study halls now, which is the awesomest because i have it with ello and catherine and sometimes jeff/shermy. Yesterday ello and i played the longest game of hangman ever. We have yet to hang a man! Guess we're just too dang good. My math teacher is a bit of a snob, but i can deal with that as long as he keeps me in the back row. French is boring, science is awesome for a change, Social Studies is zzzzzzzz but not as boring as french, English is pretty cool cuz we just talk about randomness the entire time, P/E and Health are sucko but what else is new, lunch is still one of my favorite times of the day, Concert Band is great cuz me and molly are the Flutes in the Back (lol), Newspaper is using the freshman reporters as cheap labor (stapling, labeling, mailing papers), and the Flutes of Marching Band are still bringing sexy back. I need to earn $10 by tonight. Any suggestions, people who are not Shermy? I need it for the original broadway recording of rent. They're selling it for $20 on iTunes, and i WANT it!!!!! Oh yeah, i'm babysitting today. Problem solved, since i already have $10 and the 10 tonite will supplement my Rent fund. I'm thinking about trying out for Cinderella. There's no chance i'll get in, but hey, i could try. Now all i have to do is get up the nerve to call them. Maybe today. Then again, maybe tomorrow. Or never. Who knows? I have to go to 2 things of Reckless because shermy and the other jeff are in one cast and sam and kurtness are in the other and molly wants to see kurtness. I don't know if le sam gives a crap if i come or not, but whatevvvs.
And now, to le breakfast.
So marching band has been going pretty good, what with fungus and starbursts and will and keegan marching with me...hee. I have also only posted (counting this) 18 TIMES since september. that's a little (or a lot) odd for me. I dyed my hair red, but they dye is wearing off. And although i promised my parents that i wasnt going to do it over and over again...I'm leaning toward dark purple myself. Suggestions, anyone? I went into high school. I have study halls now, which is the awesomest because i have it with ello and catherine and sometimes jeff/shermy. Yesterday ello and i played the longest game of hangman ever. We have yet to hang a man! Guess we're just too dang good. My math teacher is a bit of a snob, but i can deal with that as long as he keeps me in the back row. French is boring, science is awesome for a change, Social Studies is zzzzzzzz but not as boring as french, English is pretty cool cuz we just talk about randomness the entire time, P/E and Health are sucko but what else is new, lunch is still one of my favorite times of the day, Concert Band is great cuz me and molly are the Flutes in the Back (lol), Newspaper is using the freshman reporters as cheap labor (stapling, labeling, mailing papers), and the Flutes of Marching Band are still bringing sexy back. I need to earn $10 by tonight. Any suggestions, people who are not Shermy? I need it for the original broadway recording of rent. They're selling it for $20 on iTunes, and i WANT it!!!!! Oh yeah, i'm babysitting today. Problem solved, since i already have $10 and the 10 tonite will supplement my Rent fund. I'm thinking about trying out for Cinderella. There's no chance i'll get in, but hey, i could try. Now all i have to do is get up the nerve to call them. Maybe today. Then again, maybe tomorrow. Or never. Who knows? I have to go to 2 things of Reckless because shermy and the other jeff are in one cast and sam and kurtness are in the other and molly wants to see kurtness. I don't know if le sam gives a crap if i come or not, but whatevvvs.
And now, to le breakfast.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Blog Story, P10
The whole thing with Karl and Karen actually happened, minus the butterfly net. Just imagine me as Karl, Will as Karen, and Emma as Miley. Yes, we're odd like that.
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I think that if it was a movie instead of my life, Eric would have immediatlye gone and beaten Luke up, and poetic justice would have won once again.
But it wasnt a movie. This was real life, and in real life Eric was five foot five instead of a giant, hulky, 6-foot guy. In real life, Luke could have kicked Eric's ass so bad that he could Fed Ex him for two dollars or less. This was real life.
So instead of pulling a macho-man act, Eric morphed into the nice version of himself that only appeared during crisis, and whom i had only met twice (the day in fifth grade when i got my braces on and when i broke my wrist in seventh).
I was surprised that he just dropped it like that, that he hadnt told me to get over myself or made fun of me or something typically Eric. Not that he's mean. He just likes to make fun of me in general.
But instead of all that, he let me cry eyeliner all over his white dress shirt after he gave me his jacket because it was freezing out and my dress was strappy. He just sat there instead of going back inside to do whatever with his other friends. He talked to me in words that really didnt have any value but sounded nice enough to calm me down a little. He helped me find enough tissues so that when my mom came by to pick me up, talking on her cell the entire time, i would look like i was totally fine.
And on Monday, he was filling in the space where Luke usually leaned up against my locker. Well, half the space, anyway, considering that Eric wasnt nearly as gargantuan as Luke. But it sort of automatically calmed me down that he was there. Then he saw me and jumped a little and said "Hey!" in this really atypically friendly way. Usually he'd deliver some kind of bizzare opening line like, "Will you marry me?" or "Oh, it's YOU," because that's what he does.
What he didnt do was say "hey" like that. Ever.
And then all the way down the hall, he talked like a normal person about normal things. No odd musical references. No name-calling of himself or me or of any kind. Not a hint of sarcasm. On anyone else that expression would have been normal. But not with him.
What. The. Hell.
On him, it was like he was walking on a bridge made of this really thin glass, and if he stepped on it too hard it would shatter into a million tiny pieces.
"So how are you doing?"
No, it wasnt the bridge he thought was made out of glass. It was me.
"I'm...ya know."
"Oh." And he changed the subject. He was still being Nice Eric. And the weird thing was that after a day or so, the only person that i wanted to be around was him. Jess had sent me one text message-SRRY BOUT U AND LUKE. GOING TO NYC FOR 2 WEEKS, OH YEAH-and made herself scace. All my other girl friends were all, "Aww, Miley, come cry on my shoulder, poor little baby," which i guess is what some people would want. But i didnt want to waste any more tears than i had crying over him, and i didnt want to waste any more words talking about him. With Eric, it was like it hadnt really happened.
Except that it had, and i couldnt really run from it for very long.
It was Friday, between seventh and eighth, the hallway. For the past week, i had been extremely out of it. It was that same feeling i had had at the dance, where i was floating outside of all of it, somewhere just out of arm's reach.
And then i saw them. They were right there. I stopped walking and stopped thinking anything at all. Because they were standing right there, Luke and the blonde girl, and Luke was smirking at me.
That was when my glass self got pushed off the shelf. Sorry Eric. You tried.
He whispered something in her ear, and she looked at me and cackled.
But when you step on broken glass, you get hurt.
That was when my legs started moving, and my hand curled up into a fist, and i came right up to him and punched him in the face.
And that was when I realized what i had just done. Closely followed by this realization was Luke yelling and the girl saying things like "OH MY GOD, that bitch, are you okay baby, she'll pay for this" and other things i only thought they said in bad movies and everyone in the hall cracking up and, oh yeah, me running as fast as i possibly could toward my next class
I smiled as i sat down in my seat in AP Euro. I was supposed to skip class now; every single book said so. But they make it seriously hard to skip here at Woodland, so i settled down in my seat and waited for the bell to ring.
And when Eric met me in the hall with a semi panicked look on his face and said, "I heard that you threw Luke out a second-floor window. Is that true?" I threw back my head and laughed.
"Come on or we'll be late for the last rehersal. I don't know about you, but i like having a head."
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Rehersal is usually a mood-killer, but add green paint and having to stage-kiss Eric, and it becomes downright depressing. We're working our way through the entire play in order, and at the moment we were at the part in the play that Vanessa and i had deemed "The Fiyero Fiasco". I have to sing "No Good Deed", which is an eternal pain. Mr. Phillips is constantly on my back about my not having enough pain in my voice and how I'm "hitting all the musical notes, but not all of the emotional ones (yes, he actually SAID that). So i was seriously contemplating throwing MYSELF out of a second-floor window, or at least starting a rumor that i had so i could get out of practice.
"Oh-kayyy," Mr. Phillips droned. "Let's start with 'No Good Deed'. Elphaba? C'mon up." I jumped up on the stage and left a green handprint. "Now," he continued, "let's all take a moment to find our centers. Breathe deep...and...go."
He had been making us do that for every emotional song. All i had figured out so far was that, yup, i could breathe.
But that time...maybe it was that i was still on a high from having the nerve to hit Luke in the nose. Maybe it was the last few drops of hurt lingering around from the whole dance thing.
And i breathed in deep and closed my eyes and screamed the first word of the song:
"Fiyero!!"
I think i myst have looked or sounded a little deranged, because when i was done, everything was really quiet. And not quiet in an -i'm-text-messaging-the-kid-next-to-me-so-Phillips-won't-kill-me way. Quiet in a sort of heavy way.
And then Mr. Phillips jumped up and started yelling, "That's it! That's it!" and i seriously wanted to die, because i would rather have him screaming at me than liking me. But then the guy who plays Boq talked, and he flipped out at him instead, and the weirdness was mostly over.
Why do i say mostly? Because first of all, i had to babysit Karl and Karen that afternoon. And nothing having to do with them is ever normal.
I walked up to the house. Strangely enough, though, there were no odd noises, no preschool-esque music blasting so loud that the glass on the windows rattled. It was complete and utter quiet that is usually associated with peace: birds twittering, a breeze blowing through the trees.
But at this house, it was associated with mass murderers. Or possibly the apocolypse.
I opened the door because i havent had to ring the bell since i was ten. I stepped into the house, where my head was immediatley covered with a rather large butterfly net.
I screamed, and Karen stepped out from behind a plant, decked out in full safari gear and laughing so hard she could barely stand up. "I caught the beverage!!"
"What??" I asked, disentangling the net from my earrings.
"You're the evil beverage! I have to protect you to save the Metropolis!!" she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the entire world.
"But Karen...a beverage is like a soda or lemonade or water or something. It's not a PERSON."
She stared blankly at me for a second. Then Karl came down the stairs. He looked at me, then at Karen. "Oh, crud."
"BEVERAGE!!!!!" She took off with the butterfly net just as Katherine came around the corner.
"Hey Miley! Sorry, but i have to be at work at exactly..." She glanced at her watch. "Two minutes ago. I just thought that i'd stay and wish you good luck for Friday!"
I totally blanked. "Friday? What's Friday?"
"Your play! You know, Wicked, like the fliers said."
I gasped. "Wait. What flyer?"
She picked up a bright green, obnoxious flyer from the kitchen table. It had the Wicked logo on it and a cast list at the bottom, with my name at the very top. I couldnt look away from it even though i was sure that the color was searing little holes in my eyeballs. "But...." But I threw these away at home after Mr. Phillips gave them to us! I screamed in my mind. He wanted us to go around sticking them in mailboxes or something. But no way was i going to INCREASE the amount of people coming to see me humiliate myself.
"You know, these flyers. Your mom passed them out to everyone in the neighborhood, and everyone is coming. The Donovans, the Thomases..."
She went on and on, but i'm pretty sure that i had gone into a state of shock.
Oh.
My.
God.
My stupid family.
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I think that if it was a movie instead of my life, Eric would have immediatlye gone and beaten Luke up, and poetic justice would have won once again.
But it wasnt a movie. This was real life, and in real life Eric was five foot five instead of a giant, hulky, 6-foot guy. In real life, Luke could have kicked Eric's ass so bad that he could Fed Ex him for two dollars or less. This was real life.
So instead of pulling a macho-man act, Eric morphed into the nice version of himself that only appeared during crisis, and whom i had only met twice (the day in fifth grade when i got my braces on and when i broke my wrist in seventh).
I was surprised that he just dropped it like that, that he hadnt told me to get over myself or made fun of me or something typically Eric. Not that he's mean. He just likes to make fun of me in general.
But instead of all that, he let me cry eyeliner all over his white dress shirt after he gave me his jacket because it was freezing out and my dress was strappy. He just sat there instead of going back inside to do whatever with his other friends. He talked to me in words that really didnt have any value but sounded nice enough to calm me down a little. He helped me find enough tissues so that when my mom came by to pick me up, talking on her cell the entire time, i would look like i was totally fine.
And on Monday, he was filling in the space where Luke usually leaned up against my locker. Well, half the space, anyway, considering that Eric wasnt nearly as gargantuan as Luke. But it sort of automatically calmed me down that he was there. Then he saw me and jumped a little and said "Hey!" in this really atypically friendly way. Usually he'd deliver some kind of bizzare opening line like, "Will you marry me?" or "Oh, it's YOU," because that's what he does.
What he didnt do was say "hey" like that. Ever.
And then all the way down the hall, he talked like a normal person about normal things. No odd musical references. No name-calling of himself or me or of any kind. Not a hint of sarcasm. On anyone else that expression would have been normal. But not with him.
What. The. Hell.
On him, it was like he was walking on a bridge made of this really thin glass, and if he stepped on it too hard it would shatter into a million tiny pieces.
"So how are you doing?"
No, it wasnt the bridge he thought was made out of glass. It was me.
"I'm...ya know."
"Oh." And he changed the subject. He was still being Nice Eric. And the weird thing was that after a day or so, the only person that i wanted to be around was him. Jess had sent me one text message-SRRY BOUT U AND LUKE. GOING TO NYC FOR 2 WEEKS, OH YEAH-and made herself scace. All my other girl friends were all, "Aww, Miley, come cry on my shoulder, poor little baby," which i guess is what some people would want. But i didnt want to waste any more tears than i had crying over him, and i didnt want to waste any more words talking about him. With Eric, it was like it hadnt really happened.
Except that it had, and i couldnt really run from it for very long.
It was Friday, between seventh and eighth, the hallway. For the past week, i had been extremely out of it. It was that same feeling i had had at the dance, where i was floating outside of all of it, somewhere just out of arm's reach.
And then i saw them. They were right there. I stopped walking and stopped thinking anything at all. Because they were standing right there, Luke and the blonde girl, and Luke was smirking at me.
That was when my glass self got pushed off the shelf. Sorry Eric. You tried.
He whispered something in her ear, and she looked at me and cackled.
But when you step on broken glass, you get hurt.
That was when my legs started moving, and my hand curled up into a fist, and i came right up to him and punched him in the face.
And that was when I realized what i had just done. Closely followed by this realization was Luke yelling and the girl saying things like "OH MY GOD, that bitch, are you okay baby, she'll pay for this" and other things i only thought they said in bad movies and everyone in the hall cracking up and, oh yeah, me running as fast as i possibly could toward my next class
I smiled as i sat down in my seat in AP Euro. I was supposed to skip class now; every single book said so. But they make it seriously hard to skip here at Woodland, so i settled down in my seat and waited for the bell to ring.
And when Eric met me in the hall with a semi panicked look on his face and said, "I heard that you threw Luke out a second-floor window. Is that true?" I threw back my head and laughed.
"Come on or we'll be late for the last rehersal. I don't know about you, but i like having a head."
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Rehersal is usually a mood-killer, but add green paint and having to stage-kiss Eric, and it becomes downright depressing. We're working our way through the entire play in order, and at the moment we were at the part in the play that Vanessa and i had deemed "The Fiyero Fiasco". I have to sing "No Good Deed", which is an eternal pain. Mr. Phillips is constantly on my back about my not having enough pain in my voice and how I'm "hitting all the musical notes, but not all of the emotional ones (yes, he actually SAID that). So i was seriously contemplating throwing MYSELF out of a second-floor window, or at least starting a rumor that i had so i could get out of practice.
"Oh-kayyy," Mr. Phillips droned. "Let's start with 'No Good Deed'. Elphaba? C'mon up." I jumped up on the stage and left a green handprint. "Now," he continued, "let's all take a moment to find our centers. Breathe deep...and...go."
He had been making us do that for every emotional song. All i had figured out so far was that, yup, i could breathe.
But that time...maybe it was that i was still on a high from having the nerve to hit Luke in the nose. Maybe it was the last few drops of hurt lingering around from the whole dance thing.
And i breathed in deep and closed my eyes and screamed the first word of the song:
"Fiyero!!"
I think i myst have looked or sounded a little deranged, because when i was done, everything was really quiet. And not quiet in an -i'm-text-messaging-the-kid-next-to-me-so-Phillips-won't-kill-me way. Quiet in a sort of heavy way.
And then Mr. Phillips jumped up and started yelling, "That's it! That's it!" and i seriously wanted to die, because i would rather have him screaming at me than liking me. But then the guy who plays Boq talked, and he flipped out at him instead, and the weirdness was mostly over.
Why do i say mostly? Because first of all, i had to babysit Karl and Karen that afternoon. And nothing having to do with them is ever normal.
I walked up to the house. Strangely enough, though, there were no odd noises, no preschool-esque music blasting so loud that the glass on the windows rattled. It was complete and utter quiet that is usually associated with peace: birds twittering, a breeze blowing through the trees.
But at this house, it was associated with mass murderers. Or possibly the apocolypse.
I opened the door because i havent had to ring the bell since i was ten. I stepped into the house, where my head was immediatley covered with a rather large butterfly net.
I screamed, and Karen stepped out from behind a plant, decked out in full safari gear and laughing so hard she could barely stand up. "I caught the beverage!!"
"What??" I asked, disentangling the net from my earrings.
"You're the evil beverage! I have to protect you to save the Metropolis!!" she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the entire world.
"But Karen...a beverage is like a soda or lemonade or water or something. It's not a PERSON."
She stared blankly at me for a second. Then Karl came down the stairs. He looked at me, then at Karen. "Oh, crud."
"BEVERAGE!!!!!" She took off with the butterfly net just as Katherine came around the corner.
"Hey Miley! Sorry, but i have to be at work at exactly..." She glanced at her watch. "Two minutes ago. I just thought that i'd stay and wish you good luck for Friday!"
I totally blanked. "Friday? What's Friday?"
"Your play! You know, Wicked, like the fliers said."
I gasped. "Wait. What flyer?"
She picked up a bright green, obnoxious flyer from the kitchen table. It had the Wicked logo on it and a cast list at the bottom, with my name at the very top. I couldnt look away from it even though i was sure that the color was searing little holes in my eyeballs. "But...." But I threw these away at home after Mr. Phillips gave them to us! I screamed in my mind. He wanted us to go around sticking them in mailboxes or something. But no way was i going to INCREASE the amount of people coming to see me humiliate myself.
"You know, these flyers. Your mom passed them out to everyone in the neighborhood, and everyone is coming. The Donovans, the Thomases..."
She went on and on, but i'm pretty sure that i had gone into a state of shock.
Oh.
My.
God.
My stupid family.
Red Light! Green Light! Red Light!
So yes. I actually have the 10th part written down somewhere. i have for a while, actually, but now i just have to find it and tweak it and type it.
a few things i was worried about:
1. I was afraid that the scene where they're trying on dresses might be too confusing, because i kind of had it in my head and i was organizing it like that because i'm better at picturing these things, so it sounded weird with all the "she said" put in. (phew. how's that for a sentance?) I may be a director someday, and i'm better at imagining in all the movement. i got confused a bit. so. yes.
2. I am an avid hater of cliffhangers, and that was accidental. Now i sort of realize how some of the authors who i wanted to strangle for "leaving you hanging" may not have seen it that way. Unless it's the author of those "The Clique" books where the cliffhangers have gotten ridiculously soap-opera-ish, and she's done it tons of times anyways and everything ended up alright so it's stopped being suspenseful. But i digress (cool word!)
3. i just realized that i havent given any physical descriptions of the characters. so i'll add that in, even though i totally don't want to. Also i forgot because, like i said, i'm playing it as a movie in my head.
Miley: Has long brown hair, on the short side but not as short as me, normal weight. Kind of boring-looking, which is why I never bothered with it before.
Eric: About as tall as Miley (it gets specific-er in the next chapter), blonde/brown hair (if you've ever seen my sister it's that color) but more to the blonde side, but i havent imagined him in detail from the shoulders down. So you can draw your own conclusion there.
Luke: One of the only characters i've imagined in detail. Very tall and kind of bulky (not fat) with dark hair, wears baggy clothes (mostly black), kind of stoner-looking.
Vanessa: Also, more in detail than the main characters. Why? I don't know. Brownish black hair, crimped, with different color streaks in it (it varies but usually dark purple) and dresses mainly in black and purple. The outfit i usually see her in is black tights, black skirt, black and purple shirt, bracelet and necklace. Lol this is actually kind of fun. I don't know why.
Jess: Long brown hair, tall, usually dresses in yellow.
Alright so that was my long unnecessary description thing. See you at Part 10!
Also: if you thought that they looked a certain way, tell me. i always find it funny to hear that for some reason.
a few things i was worried about:
1. I was afraid that the scene where they're trying on dresses might be too confusing, because i kind of had it in my head and i was organizing it like that because i'm better at picturing these things, so it sounded weird with all the "she said" put in. (phew. how's that for a sentance?) I may be a director someday, and i'm better at imagining in all the movement. i got confused a bit. so. yes.
2. I am an avid hater of cliffhangers, and that was accidental. Now i sort of realize how some of the authors who i wanted to strangle for "leaving you hanging" may not have seen it that way. Unless it's the author of those "The Clique" books where the cliffhangers have gotten ridiculously soap-opera-ish, and she's done it tons of times anyways and everything ended up alright so it's stopped being suspenseful. But i digress (cool word!)
3. i just realized that i havent given any physical descriptions of the characters. so i'll add that in, even though i totally don't want to. Also i forgot because, like i said, i'm playing it as a movie in my head.
Miley: Has long brown hair, on the short side but not as short as me, normal weight. Kind of boring-looking, which is why I never bothered with it before.
Eric: About as tall as Miley (it gets specific-er in the next chapter), blonde/brown hair (if you've ever seen my sister it's that color) but more to the blonde side, but i havent imagined him in detail from the shoulders down. So you can draw your own conclusion there.
Luke: One of the only characters i've imagined in detail. Very tall and kind of bulky (not fat) with dark hair, wears baggy clothes (mostly black), kind of stoner-looking.
Vanessa: Also, more in detail than the main characters. Why? I don't know. Brownish black hair, crimped, with different color streaks in it (it varies but usually dark purple) and dresses mainly in black and purple. The outfit i usually see her in is black tights, black skirt, black and purple shirt, bracelet and necklace. Lol this is actually kind of fun. I don't know why.
Jess: Long brown hair, tall, usually dresses in yellow.
Alright so that was my long unnecessary description thing. See you at Part 10!
Also: if you thought that they looked a certain way, tell me. i always find it funny to hear that for some reason.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Blog Story, P9
Oh no...the dreaded...TIME JUMP!! *sobs* i'm sorry but it can't be helped.
And hey, know what i just realized? this story is going to END soon. Not really soon, but it must end. And that's just sad. Plus, then i have to get used to blogging about *gulps* MY LIFE.
EWWWWW!
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I opened up my locker, searching for my german notebook. If i didnt find it, frau would totally kill me.
Aha! Got it. I pulled it out of my locker, slamming it shut. If i walked fast i could just make it.
"Hey."
I looked up to see Luke standing there, all tall and huge.
"Hey back."
Needless to say, i was way late to German.
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It was the day before homecoming. A week and a half had passed since that huge blowup with Eric, and i had to say, i was getting along perfectly fine. Jess had "forgiven" me (whatever) and we were talking again. Mostly about how she had gotten the role of "young cosette" or however you spell that, in les miserables. She couldnt stop blabbing on and on about new york and auditions and how she was "glad i didnt waste my time on trivial things like SCHOOL musicals". She was leaving soon, but it's not like i was going to miss her too much.
In the books, the heroine always manages to completley avoid the person she's mad at. They usually don't have inconvinient things like rehersals in their way. Since i couldnt talk to Eric, i had started hanging out with Vanessa during rehersals. I had no idea that you could be friends with someone who wasnt male didnt totally freak out at every available opportunity. We have the best Mr. Phillips act together EVER. We're thinking about selling tickets.
Rehersing songs with Eric is too uncomfortable to talk about, so i wont go into detail with that. Just that we had to act likewe didnt hate each other and failed.
At the end of practice, Mr. Phillips reminded us that there was a dress rehersal friday night, and that we were representing "The Woodland High Eagles."
And i thought:
I am a Woodland High Eagle.
Ew.
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"Ummm....that one! No, that one! No..."
I stood in the middle of the store while Vanessa ran around , grabbing practically every dress in the store off of the racks. What did i get myself into?
This all started after i got home from rehersal Wednesday. My mom, to my surprise, was actually siting in the kitchen at four in the afternoon.
Not like she was cooking or anything mom-like. She was sitting there, tapping away on her laptop. But as soon as she saw me, she actually closed it and looked up.
I checked out the window to make sure there wasnt anything blowing up or aliens holding up the house.
"Miley, good. Come sit down." I pulled up a chair and sat. "Now, i'm aware that you're going out with Luke on Saturday. The thing is, i'm not sure if your father and i will have time to babysit." I realized how weird it was that they, the parents, referred to them spending time with their own kids babysitting. "Do you think that there's any way you could change the date of this, ah, homecoming?"
I tried to stop myself from smiling. "Um, homecoming is pretty much set in stone, Mom. Sorry."
"Ah. Well, i suppose we'll have to move some things around."
I stood up, then sat back down. "Can i go?"
"Yes, Miley. Oh, wait-"
I turned around. "Yeah?"
"You have a dress, right?" My eyes widened and my mom looked at me questioningly. Then i smiled and said, "Of course!"
That was when i called Vanessa. "You want to go to the mall with me tomorrow after school? I sort of need a dress..."
And now i was standing here while she piled dress after dress onto me and steered me into the dressing room.
"I can't beleive that you FORGOT to buy a dress for Homecoming," she said through the door.
"Yeah, yeah," I said, pulling something red and sparkly over my head. "I sort of hate shopping, but aside from wearing that ugly dress that i have to wear in the first act, i have no other options." I walked out of the little booth and twirled. "What do you think?"
"You look like a chandelier. Next. So...is there something weird going on between you and Eric?"
"Umm...why do you ask?" I tried to maneuver a blue dress with a ton of straps off of a hanger.
"Because you used to talk to him all the time. Now-" I walked out in the blue strappy thing "-ew, take that off. Now you hardly ever look at him."
"Well...he sort of had this thing with my boyfriend...he got really mad and jerk-ish and stuff."
"Oh, I get it."
"Well then maybe you could help me, cuz i sure don't."
"I think he likes you."
I stopped trying to untagle myself from the blue dress and yelled, "WHAT? There's no way. I mean, this is ERIC we're talking about here. He could never like me."
"Why not? Oh, here, try this on." She threw a poofy yellow dress over the top.
"Well, i'm totally not his type. He goes for the whole 'Flick my hair, bat my eyelashes, i'll bake you cookies', perfect, skinny type. He hasnt dated anyone who could kick his ass as fully as i could."
"Uh huh..." She sounded skeptical.
"Trust me, it could never happen. It's, ya know, Eric. What do you think of the yellow one?"
"That's really cute, actually. Okay, we can leave now."
"Thank God."
We payed for the dress and left. But it was like she had put this idea in my head and it wouldnt go away. Eric couldnt like me because it was phisically impossible. Seriously. As nice as Eric was (note the was), he only dated really, really stupid people. It was like a trend.
So i put the idea outside of my mind and concentrated on the fact that there were Auntie Ann's pretzels right in front of me.
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I walked into the overcrowded, noisy gym with Luke at my side. I was wearing the yellow dress, and i actually felt girly for once. So what if my hands were still sort of tinted green from the dress rehersal? It wasnt THAT noticable. I don't think.
Anyways, the gym was so noisy that i doubt my head falling off would have been noticable. The base on the speakers was turned up so loud that you couldnt tell what song was playing. All my friends were on the outskirts. But i noticed that all of Luke's friends were in the mosh pit, which was a place that i really didnt want to go. Luckily, they all came running out with their dates, girls that i didnt really know, but we were all sort of in the same boat here. They all slapped high fives and said "Dude" a lot, and we stood around awkwardly.
"I like your dress," Mia, Henry's girlfriend, shouted over the noise.
"Thanks," I yelled back. We stood around for about an hour, which is when i realized that dances with boyfriends were no fun. At least, not with Luke. I hadnt seen a single one of my friends yet, and i didnt know if i was really supposed to leave Luke. But then i saw Eric standing right near us, and i screamed at Luke that i was going to go get some water. He shrugged and i left.
Getting out of the gym was hard, but getting back in was harder. The whole process took, i kid you not, half an hour to do.
So when i walked back in I expected Luke to be really pissed. Just cuz he was Luke and that is what he does.
I did not expect to see what i did, which was him and some random blode girl who i had never seen making out against a wall.
It was like i was outside of myself. I couldnt tear my eyes away, and i started to see the scene from the wall across the room: a stupid, short girl wearing a stupid, puffy dress, carrying a cup of water in her hand, and the girl had been on top of the world for a couple of weeks and then it all crashed. It was stupid, and then i saw Eric standing there staring at the whole scene, and then i dropped my water (it was actually more like my hand stopped remembering to hold it) and turned and ran as fast as i could in heels.
I busted through the caution tape surrounding the coat check, just broke right through it. An outraged mom came up and started yelling at me, but i just took my purse and my stupid shawl thing and ran. It was like i was on the barest autopilot. I walked out the doors and halfway down the steps like a zombie.
That was when my legs gave out and i started crying. Actually, i was sobbing, really hard, and i havent done that since i was four. It was really pathetic and i knew that i had to move or the coat check mom would come after me with the Glock that was inevitably hidden under that really ugly sweater, but i couldnt.
And then to make matters worse, i heard someone walking up. I looked up, and of course it was Eric because fate hates me.
I braced myself for the speech, the whole I-told-you-so thing, but he didnt say anything. He just sat down right next to me.
"Hey."
And hey, know what i just realized? this story is going to END soon. Not really soon, but it must end. And that's just sad. Plus, then i have to get used to blogging about *gulps* MY LIFE.
EWWWWW!
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I opened up my locker, searching for my german notebook. If i didnt find it, frau would totally kill me.
Aha! Got it. I pulled it out of my locker, slamming it shut. If i walked fast i could just make it.
"Hey."
I looked up to see Luke standing there, all tall and huge.
"Hey back."
Needless to say, i was way late to German.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
It was the day before homecoming. A week and a half had passed since that huge blowup with Eric, and i had to say, i was getting along perfectly fine. Jess had "forgiven" me (whatever) and we were talking again. Mostly about how she had gotten the role of "young cosette" or however you spell that, in les miserables. She couldnt stop blabbing on and on about new york and auditions and how she was "glad i didnt waste my time on trivial things like SCHOOL musicals". She was leaving soon, but it's not like i was going to miss her too much.
In the books, the heroine always manages to completley avoid the person she's mad at. They usually don't have inconvinient things like rehersals in their way. Since i couldnt talk to Eric, i had started hanging out with Vanessa during rehersals. I had no idea that you could be friends with someone who wasnt male didnt totally freak out at every available opportunity. We have the best Mr. Phillips act together EVER. We're thinking about selling tickets.
Rehersing songs with Eric is too uncomfortable to talk about, so i wont go into detail with that. Just that we had to act likewe didnt hate each other and failed.
At the end of practice, Mr. Phillips reminded us that there was a dress rehersal friday night, and that we were representing "The Woodland High Eagles."
And i thought:
I am a Woodland High Eagle.
Ew.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Ummm....that one! No, that one! No..."
I stood in the middle of the store while Vanessa ran around , grabbing practically every dress in the store off of the racks. What did i get myself into?
This all started after i got home from rehersal Wednesday. My mom, to my surprise, was actually siting in the kitchen at four in the afternoon.
Not like she was cooking or anything mom-like. She was sitting there, tapping away on her laptop. But as soon as she saw me, she actually closed it and looked up.
I checked out the window to make sure there wasnt anything blowing up or aliens holding up the house.
"Miley, good. Come sit down." I pulled up a chair and sat. "Now, i'm aware that you're going out with Luke on Saturday. The thing is, i'm not sure if your father and i will have time to babysit." I realized how weird it was that they, the parents, referred to them spending time with their own kids babysitting. "Do you think that there's any way you could change the date of this, ah, homecoming?"
I tried to stop myself from smiling. "Um, homecoming is pretty much set in stone, Mom. Sorry."
"Ah. Well, i suppose we'll have to move some things around."
I stood up, then sat back down. "Can i go?"
"Yes, Miley. Oh, wait-"
I turned around. "Yeah?"
"You have a dress, right?" My eyes widened and my mom looked at me questioningly. Then i smiled and said, "Of course!"
That was when i called Vanessa. "You want to go to the mall with me tomorrow after school? I sort of need a dress..."
And now i was standing here while she piled dress after dress onto me and steered me into the dressing room.
"I can't beleive that you FORGOT to buy a dress for Homecoming," she said through the door.
"Yeah, yeah," I said, pulling something red and sparkly over my head. "I sort of hate shopping, but aside from wearing that ugly dress that i have to wear in the first act, i have no other options." I walked out of the little booth and twirled. "What do you think?"
"You look like a chandelier. Next. So...is there something weird going on between you and Eric?"
"Umm...why do you ask?" I tried to maneuver a blue dress with a ton of straps off of a hanger.
"Because you used to talk to him all the time. Now-" I walked out in the blue strappy thing "-ew, take that off. Now you hardly ever look at him."
"Well...he sort of had this thing with my boyfriend...he got really mad and jerk-ish and stuff."
"Oh, I get it."
"Well then maybe you could help me, cuz i sure don't."
"I think he likes you."
I stopped trying to untagle myself from the blue dress and yelled, "WHAT? There's no way. I mean, this is ERIC we're talking about here. He could never like me."
"Why not? Oh, here, try this on." She threw a poofy yellow dress over the top.
"Well, i'm totally not his type. He goes for the whole 'Flick my hair, bat my eyelashes, i'll bake you cookies', perfect, skinny type. He hasnt dated anyone who could kick his ass as fully as i could."
"Uh huh..." She sounded skeptical.
"Trust me, it could never happen. It's, ya know, Eric. What do you think of the yellow one?"
"That's really cute, actually. Okay, we can leave now."
"Thank God."
We payed for the dress and left. But it was like she had put this idea in my head and it wouldnt go away. Eric couldnt like me because it was phisically impossible. Seriously. As nice as Eric was (note the was), he only dated really, really stupid people. It was like a trend.
So i put the idea outside of my mind and concentrated on the fact that there were Auntie Ann's pretzels right in front of me.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
I walked into the overcrowded, noisy gym with Luke at my side. I was wearing the yellow dress, and i actually felt girly for once. So what if my hands were still sort of tinted green from the dress rehersal? It wasnt THAT noticable. I don't think.
Anyways, the gym was so noisy that i doubt my head falling off would have been noticable. The base on the speakers was turned up so loud that you couldnt tell what song was playing. All my friends were on the outskirts. But i noticed that all of Luke's friends were in the mosh pit, which was a place that i really didnt want to go. Luckily, they all came running out with their dates, girls that i didnt really know, but we were all sort of in the same boat here. They all slapped high fives and said "Dude" a lot, and we stood around awkwardly.
"I like your dress," Mia, Henry's girlfriend, shouted over the noise.
"Thanks," I yelled back. We stood around for about an hour, which is when i realized that dances with boyfriends were no fun. At least, not with Luke. I hadnt seen a single one of my friends yet, and i didnt know if i was really supposed to leave Luke. But then i saw Eric standing right near us, and i screamed at Luke that i was going to go get some water. He shrugged and i left.
Getting out of the gym was hard, but getting back in was harder. The whole process took, i kid you not, half an hour to do.
So when i walked back in I expected Luke to be really pissed. Just cuz he was Luke and that is what he does.
I did not expect to see what i did, which was him and some random blode girl who i had never seen making out against a wall.
It was like i was outside of myself. I couldnt tear my eyes away, and i started to see the scene from the wall across the room: a stupid, short girl wearing a stupid, puffy dress, carrying a cup of water in her hand, and the girl had been on top of the world for a couple of weeks and then it all crashed. It was stupid, and then i saw Eric standing there staring at the whole scene, and then i dropped my water (it was actually more like my hand stopped remembering to hold it) and turned and ran as fast as i could in heels.
I busted through the caution tape surrounding the coat check, just broke right through it. An outraged mom came up and started yelling at me, but i just took my purse and my stupid shawl thing and ran. It was like i was on the barest autopilot. I walked out the doors and halfway down the steps like a zombie.
That was when my legs gave out and i started crying. Actually, i was sobbing, really hard, and i havent done that since i was four. It was really pathetic and i knew that i had to move or the coat check mom would come after me with the Glock that was inevitably hidden under that really ugly sweater, but i couldnt.
And then to make matters worse, i heard someone walking up. I looked up, and of course it was Eric because fate hates me.
I braced myself for the speech, the whole I-told-you-so thing, but he didnt say anything. He just sat down right next to me.
"Hey."
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Blog Story, P8
I shook my hair out of my eyes as i stared at the clock. Study Hall was really boring after you finish your homework. Plus I couldnt stop thinking.
Well.
This sucked.
Not only was Jess still dramatically giving me the cold shoulder for hanging up on her, but i was this close to tearing off Eric's head.
I mean, he didnt have to be such a huge jerk when Luke came up to me to ask me for the answers to a couple of Science class. He wasnt so bad anymore. I had actually had a couple of moments daily where i didnt want to stab him through the heart with a pencil. You could say that i was tolerating him. Or possibly even...liking him. Not in the "Oh, he looked at me, someone catch me" kind of way, but i was definatley interested.
Beeeeeeeep.
Eight minutes left.
I tried to concentrate on the fact that there was a very entertaining birdfight happenening between the school roof's territorial robins and idiotic pigeons that almost everyone else in the room was fixated on. But i was still kind of wondering what i had done that was so horrible. I hadnt really yelled at Eric, just snipped a little. What was it...some comment about how absoulutley stupid he was being. Well, that wasnt nice, but neither was him practically biting off Luke's head for no reason.
"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" yelled a couple of jocks.
"God, it's a couple of animals, not your friends. Although...never mind, carry on," Vanessa said, rolling her eyes at me. I smirked and nodded back. Nothing like the idocy of football to bond over.
Beeeeeeeep.
Study hall was over. Time for science.
I spent pretty much the entire time trying to avoid burning myself with the bunsen burner. I didnt know that paper caught on fire so easy.
When i walked out of class, I saw Eric out of the corner of my eye. I knew he was waiting for me. I started to turn, and if i had done it a second sooner i would have walked down the hall with him, gone to Lunch, and you wouldnt be reading this right now. It sort of blows your mind when you think about it. Like, if you had made a single change in something you did, a second, a millisecond even, it could totally change your life.
You shouldnt think like that. Because then you spend your entire life second-guessing. But you can't help wondering sometimes, What if...?
Because if i had stayed behind or chosen another moment to walk out that door, turned a second sooner, moved a little faster, Luke would never have grabbed my arm, spun me around and said, "Miley, do you want to go to Homecoming with me?"
I had no idea what to say to that. Did i like him? Yeah, a little. But did i like him enough?
That was Eric's cue to run up and go, "Hey, Miley, we're going to be late for lunch. You should come with me," and try to pull me away.
And really, that was what made up my mind. I shook him off, gave Luke a big smile, and said, "Sure."
It was a mistake. It was mean, really, because i did it 45% because of my semi-feelings for Luke, but 55% was because i wanted to show Eric that i could take care of myself. That was it. The point that i chose wasnt even the majority, and that was stupid.
And then Eric took his hand off my arm, Luke said "Cool," and walked away, and i turned around to find Eric...but he wasnt there. I was standing there in a sea of backpacks and feeling a little mixture of happiness and sadness. It was a sign, you could say, but i ignored it and walked down to lunch.
I looked through the crowd until i spotted him, then jumped on his back. He proceeded to practically colapse. "What the--" Eric said, turning around. "Oh. Hey. You know, you probably shouldnt jump on me like that. I'm going to develop a back condition." His voice wasnt mad, just completley devoid of emotion.
"Come on. I don't want to fight. We're acting like Laguna Beach on downers here, and you know how much i hate that show." I hoped that he would laugh, but he didnt.
"You knew that i didnt like that guy, but that didnt stop you."
Like it was his choice? "Um, need i remind you of Amber? Jeanette? Meg? I pretty much hated them, but THAT didnt stop YOU."
"It's a different situation," he mumbled.
"How?" I asked. More like exploded, but I'm writing this so i get to decide. "Because they were all younger or older than us and i didnt have to deal with them on a regular basis? Get real."
"You know, you can be incredibly self-centered sometimes."
"ME??? What about YOU??? You want me to measure my dates up to your standards? If you remember, i never said anything about Jeanette's tendency to laugh like a deranged hyena until AFTER you stopped liking her. And Meg kept hinting at me to lose weight, and you knew it, but you didnt stop her. Need i go on?" I knew that we were making a big scene, but i couldnt beleive it. My friends are all i have, really, considering that the only way i'm considered important in my family is in the role of live-in babysitter. When they're mean to me, it cuts me deeper than anything else. But I'd never tell them that because i like to keep up a tough exterior. I don't know why, but it's how i am. And now Eric was essentially beating me into the ground. My only reaction was to beat back.
He was looking more uncomfortable by the second, but he had this stupid look on his face. "I still think--"
"To hell with what you think!" I screamed. "I don't care anymore! You're not my mom or dad or brother or boyfriend! When that situation arises, feel free to be protective and chauvanist and all the other things you want, but until then, BACK OFF!" I spat the last two words in his face, turned around, and walked out of the lunchroom.
The shaky feeling inside of me told me that this wasnt a normal fight. This was bigger. We usually had fights when we were IMing or something, when we didnt have to go through the exertion of yelling or actually see the other person's reaction. It was like something snapped or disappeared. It was all too much drama. I walked down to my next class, realizing that i hadnt eaten lunch.
Stupid, stupid dramatics.
Well.
This sucked.
Not only was Jess still dramatically giving me the cold shoulder for hanging up on her, but i was this close to tearing off Eric's head.
I mean, he didnt have to be such a huge jerk when Luke came up to me to ask me for the answers to a couple of Science class. He wasnt so bad anymore. I had actually had a couple of moments daily where i didnt want to stab him through the heart with a pencil. You could say that i was tolerating him. Or possibly even...liking him. Not in the "Oh, he looked at me, someone catch me" kind of way, but i was definatley interested.
Beeeeeeeep.
Eight minutes left.
I tried to concentrate on the fact that there was a very entertaining birdfight happenening between the school roof's territorial robins and idiotic pigeons that almost everyone else in the room was fixated on. But i was still kind of wondering what i had done that was so horrible. I hadnt really yelled at Eric, just snipped a little. What was it...some comment about how absoulutley stupid he was being. Well, that wasnt nice, but neither was him practically biting off Luke's head for no reason.
"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" yelled a couple of jocks.
"God, it's a couple of animals, not your friends. Although...never mind, carry on," Vanessa said, rolling her eyes at me. I smirked and nodded back. Nothing like the idocy of football to bond over.
Beeeeeeeep.
Study hall was over. Time for science.
I spent pretty much the entire time trying to avoid burning myself with the bunsen burner. I didnt know that paper caught on fire so easy.
When i walked out of class, I saw Eric out of the corner of my eye. I knew he was waiting for me. I started to turn, and if i had done it a second sooner i would have walked down the hall with him, gone to Lunch, and you wouldnt be reading this right now. It sort of blows your mind when you think about it. Like, if you had made a single change in something you did, a second, a millisecond even, it could totally change your life.
You shouldnt think like that. Because then you spend your entire life second-guessing. But you can't help wondering sometimes, What if...?
Because if i had stayed behind or chosen another moment to walk out that door, turned a second sooner, moved a little faster, Luke would never have grabbed my arm, spun me around and said, "Miley, do you want to go to Homecoming with me?"
I had no idea what to say to that. Did i like him? Yeah, a little. But did i like him enough?
That was Eric's cue to run up and go, "Hey, Miley, we're going to be late for lunch. You should come with me," and try to pull me away.
And really, that was what made up my mind. I shook him off, gave Luke a big smile, and said, "Sure."
It was a mistake. It was mean, really, because i did it 45% because of my semi-feelings for Luke, but 55% was because i wanted to show Eric that i could take care of myself. That was it. The point that i chose wasnt even the majority, and that was stupid.
And then Eric took his hand off my arm, Luke said "Cool," and walked away, and i turned around to find Eric...but he wasnt there. I was standing there in a sea of backpacks and feeling a little mixture of happiness and sadness. It was a sign, you could say, but i ignored it and walked down to lunch.
I looked through the crowd until i spotted him, then jumped on his back. He proceeded to practically colapse. "What the--" Eric said, turning around. "Oh. Hey. You know, you probably shouldnt jump on me like that. I'm going to develop a back condition." His voice wasnt mad, just completley devoid of emotion.
"Come on. I don't want to fight. We're acting like Laguna Beach on downers here, and you know how much i hate that show." I hoped that he would laugh, but he didnt.
"You knew that i didnt like that guy, but that didnt stop you."
Like it was his choice? "Um, need i remind you of Amber? Jeanette? Meg? I pretty much hated them, but THAT didnt stop YOU."
"It's a different situation," he mumbled.
"How?" I asked. More like exploded, but I'm writing this so i get to decide. "Because they were all younger or older than us and i didnt have to deal with them on a regular basis? Get real."
"You know, you can be incredibly self-centered sometimes."
"ME??? What about YOU??? You want me to measure my dates up to your standards? If you remember, i never said anything about Jeanette's tendency to laugh like a deranged hyena until AFTER you stopped liking her. And Meg kept hinting at me to lose weight, and you knew it, but you didnt stop her. Need i go on?" I knew that we were making a big scene, but i couldnt beleive it. My friends are all i have, really, considering that the only way i'm considered important in my family is in the role of live-in babysitter. When they're mean to me, it cuts me deeper than anything else. But I'd never tell them that because i like to keep up a tough exterior. I don't know why, but it's how i am. And now Eric was essentially beating me into the ground. My only reaction was to beat back.
He was looking more uncomfortable by the second, but he had this stupid look on his face. "I still think--"
"To hell with what you think!" I screamed. "I don't care anymore! You're not my mom or dad or brother or boyfriend! When that situation arises, feel free to be protective and chauvanist and all the other things you want, but until then, BACK OFF!" I spat the last two words in his face, turned around, and walked out of the lunchroom.
The shaky feeling inside of me told me that this wasnt a normal fight. This was bigger. We usually had fights when we were IMing or something, when we didnt have to go through the exertion of yelling or actually see the other person's reaction. It was like something snapped or disappeared. It was all too much drama. I walked down to my next class, realizing that i hadnt eaten lunch.
Stupid, stupid dramatics.
Friday, October 06, 2006
Blog Story, P7
"How could he DO this to me?"
"Well, Jess, you werent really going out."
"We PRACTIALLY were. And then he goes and...and...TALKS to her!"
I rolled my eyes, mostly because Jess couldnt see me. I was on the phone, halfway babysitting, halfway working, and putting about .00001% of my energy into comforting Jess. Some guy from Health 2 had IMed her and flirted with her, and then gone and had the complete NERVE to *gasp* TALK TO ANOTHER GIRL!! What a travesty! Not.
I tuned back into the screeching coming out of the phone behind the counter at I-Skreem. Ted was trying to get my siblings and the same friends that they had in there last time to taste-test one of his concoctions, which i had totally watched him make, to make sure he didnt confuse motor fluid with chocolate syrup. We had had a total of ten customers all day. A winter Tuesday afternoon isnt the most popular time for ice cream. Most of the cash flow is on Friday, Saturday and Sunday.
"Come on, just try it. It's not going to kill you," Ted said to Blaire. She looked up at me skeptically.
"Nothing that isnt edible to at least one human being on the face of the planet in there," I said. On the other end of the line, Jess yelled "MILEY! Are you listening?"
"Look, i got the gist of it. You're mad. Why don't you talk to him? He must have some explanation."
"I promise that it's really good." Ted handed Blaire the spoon.
"It is NOT really good!" she yelled.
"Oh, i already HEARD his lame explanations. He said that he was asking her for the HOMEWORK. As if!" Jess made a series of outraged noises.
"And you don't beleive him because...?"
"How do you know that it's not really good? You havent even tried it!"
"It looks like guts is why!"
"It does not look like guts! You take that back!"
"Because he didnt tell me about it! He was HIDING something!"
"Guts, guts, guts!"
"IT IS NOT GUTS!"
"EVERYBODY JUST SHUT UP!" I screamed, hanging up the phone. The entire place went silent, THANK GOD. The downside was that they were all staring.
Ever have one of those days??
"Well, Jess, you werent really going out."
"We PRACTIALLY were. And then he goes and...and...TALKS to her!"
I rolled my eyes, mostly because Jess couldnt see me. I was on the phone, halfway babysitting, halfway working, and putting about .00001% of my energy into comforting Jess. Some guy from Health 2 had IMed her and flirted with her, and then gone and had the complete NERVE to *gasp* TALK TO ANOTHER GIRL!! What a travesty! Not.
I tuned back into the screeching coming out of the phone behind the counter at I-Skreem. Ted was trying to get my siblings and the same friends that they had in there last time to taste-test one of his concoctions, which i had totally watched him make, to make sure he didnt confuse motor fluid with chocolate syrup. We had had a total of ten customers all day. A winter Tuesday afternoon isnt the most popular time for ice cream. Most of the cash flow is on Friday, Saturday and Sunday.
"Come on, just try it. It's not going to kill you," Ted said to Blaire. She looked up at me skeptically.
"Nothing that isnt edible to at least one human being on the face of the planet in there," I said. On the other end of the line, Jess yelled "MILEY! Are you listening?"
"Look, i got the gist of it. You're mad. Why don't you talk to him? He must have some explanation."
"I promise that it's really good." Ted handed Blaire the spoon.
"It is NOT really good!" she yelled.
"Oh, i already HEARD his lame explanations. He said that he was asking her for the HOMEWORK. As if!" Jess made a series of outraged noises.
"And you don't beleive him because...?"
"How do you know that it's not really good? You havent even tried it!"
"It looks like guts is why!"
"It does not look like guts! You take that back!"
"Because he didnt tell me about it! He was HIDING something!"
"Guts, guts, guts!"
"IT IS NOT GUTS!"
"EVERYBODY JUST SHUT UP!" I screamed, hanging up the phone. The entire place went silent, THANK GOD. The downside was that they were all staring.
Ever have one of those days??
Dress-Up and Dancing
That's me in the ugly-beyond-beleif dress that my mom wore to some wedding. it used to have a HUGE bow on the back but i pulled it off. Look how brown my hair looks....yeah well the story behind this dress is that me and my sister were totally bored on monday when we had no school. soooooo we did dress-up! Yes, i'm 14 and i play dress-up.
And don't worry, i didnt dance in the dress.
Hee.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Blog Story, P6
"Come on, Ryan. You're not reading a grocery list, you are SINGING. It is EMOTIONAL. It is IMPORTANT. It is COHERENT. Let's try it again, from the top."
I leaned back in the squeaky auditorium chair and sighed. Next to me, Eric was falling asleep and Vanessa (Nessarose) was mouthing the words to the song that Ryan (the Wizard) was singing with a pained expression on her face akin to the one that the Drivers Ed teacher wears when you go to fast or screech around a corner. Everyone else was doing homework, talking, or just generally goofing off while Mr. Phillips took turns yelling at Ryan and telling him to "emote" and talking about how "it's a story about poetic justice and yelling "Quiet!" or "Pay attention!" at us. Practice was two hours, one of which had been taken up by "A Sentimental Man".
I elbowed Eric in the ribs. If i had to stay awake, so did he. Because, i swear, i'm in almost every song. It doesnt matter that i only have two lines in "Popular" ("you really don't have to do that" "I have to go") and Wonderful ("so you lied to them" "it does sound wonderful") I have to sit up there on that stage for as long as it takes Clara (Glinda) to hit that high note. We havent even started on choreography yet, either. Grr.
"Alright, that's enough for today, Ryan. Work on that for next time. Glinda, Elphaba, get up here and get ready for "As Long As You're Mine". I avoided looking at Eric and walked up on the stage. I don't care if we were talking again, it was still awkward telling him to "Kiss me too fiercly/ hold me too tight", even if technically i wasnt telling HIM or as ME, but as characters. That's how Jess told me to think of it anyways. She's kind of pissed that i got the lead and she didnt, even though she didnt try out. She decided when she was about three that she was going to be on Broadway, but considered school plays below her. Especially now that Mr. Phillips was directing. Still, that didnt explain the way she kept going, "Well, if you had told ME about it, I would be Elphaba and you wouldnt have to worry about it." Seriously. This girl is supposed to be my best friend. Or so she says, anyways.
The piano started playing, and i took a deep breath.
"STOP!!"
I let out the breath in a big whoosh. Next to me, Eric was looking annoyed. "We didnt even start yet. How could we be doing anything wrong?" he said. But not loud enough that Mr. Phillips could hear him.
"Elphaba," (he has this annoying habit of calling us by our character names instead of our real ones) "you aren't breathing right. You have to breathe from the diaphram. Like so." I clenched my hands into fists and tried not to lunge off the stage at his throat. Not BREATHING right??
I took another deep breath. "Ki--"
The seceratary's voice blared out of the speakers. "Attention all teachers: someone has parked their blue Jeep in the red zone. Again, someone has parked their blue Jeep in the red zone." Mr. Phillips suddenly seemed very intent on studying his official-looking clipboard.
"Ah, from the top. Lilly? Play the opening."
I did the screchy things at the beginning that Mr. Phillips calls "falsetto" (he was pretty much horrified that i didnt know what it was. at least i didnt tell him that i thought it was a pastry, or i'm pretty sure he would have kicked me out. although that's seeming like a viable option right now), then started the song. Halfway into the song, just as Eric was singing, "But you've got me seeing through different eyes", the loudspeaker beeped again. "Attention ALL TEACHERS AND STUDENTS: we have called tow trucks, and they are coming for that car unless you move it immediatley." Mr. Phillips snapped his head up and said, "You know what, that was really, um, perfect, you two. I'll be right back." He threw the clipboard on the piano and all but ran out.
So in the end, we ended up starting a total revolt. Seriously, if anyone had ever told me that unsupervised theatre was so much fun, i would have killed off all adults long ago. Plus, the guy who played Boq was one of those people who know absoloutly everything about stage crew and sound systems, and he hooked up Eric's iPod to play all those stupid show tunes that he liked, plus the crazy frog songs, which he swears arent his. I'm so sure.
And then when we all left, we were rewarded with the very amusing sight of mr. phillips screaming at the tow truck guys as they tried to drive away with his car.
How's that for poetic justice?
I leaned back in the squeaky auditorium chair and sighed. Next to me, Eric was falling asleep and Vanessa (Nessarose) was mouthing the words to the song that Ryan (the Wizard) was singing with a pained expression on her face akin to the one that the Drivers Ed teacher wears when you go to fast or screech around a corner. Everyone else was doing homework, talking, or just generally goofing off while Mr. Phillips took turns yelling at Ryan and telling him to "emote" and talking about how "it's a story about poetic justice and yelling "Quiet!" or "Pay attention!" at us. Practice was two hours, one of which had been taken up by "A Sentimental Man".
I elbowed Eric in the ribs. If i had to stay awake, so did he. Because, i swear, i'm in almost every song. It doesnt matter that i only have two lines in "Popular" ("you really don't have to do that" "I have to go") and Wonderful ("so you lied to them" "it does sound wonderful") I have to sit up there on that stage for as long as it takes Clara (Glinda) to hit that high note. We havent even started on choreography yet, either. Grr.
"Alright, that's enough for today, Ryan. Work on that for next time. Glinda, Elphaba, get up here and get ready for "As Long As You're Mine". I avoided looking at Eric and walked up on the stage. I don't care if we were talking again, it was still awkward telling him to "Kiss me too fiercly/ hold me too tight", even if technically i wasnt telling HIM or as ME, but as characters. That's how Jess told me to think of it anyways. She's kind of pissed that i got the lead and she didnt, even though she didnt try out. She decided when she was about three that she was going to be on Broadway, but considered school plays below her. Especially now that Mr. Phillips was directing. Still, that didnt explain the way she kept going, "Well, if you had told ME about it, I would be Elphaba and you wouldnt have to worry about it." Seriously. This girl is supposed to be my best friend. Or so she says, anyways.
The piano started playing, and i took a deep breath.
"STOP!!"
I let out the breath in a big whoosh. Next to me, Eric was looking annoyed. "We didnt even start yet. How could we be doing anything wrong?" he said. But not loud enough that Mr. Phillips could hear him.
"Elphaba," (he has this annoying habit of calling us by our character names instead of our real ones) "you aren't breathing right. You have to breathe from the diaphram. Like so." I clenched my hands into fists and tried not to lunge off the stage at his throat. Not BREATHING right??
I took another deep breath. "Ki--"
The seceratary's voice blared out of the speakers. "Attention all teachers: someone has parked their blue Jeep in the red zone. Again, someone has parked their blue Jeep in the red zone." Mr. Phillips suddenly seemed very intent on studying his official-looking clipboard.
"Ah, from the top. Lilly? Play the opening."
I did the screchy things at the beginning that Mr. Phillips calls "falsetto" (he was pretty much horrified that i didnt know what it was. at least i didnt tell him that i thought it was a pastry, or i'm pretty sure he would have kicked me out. although that's seeming like a viable option right now), then started the song. Halfway into the song, just as Eric was singing, "But you've got me seeing through different eyes", the loudspeaker beeped again. "Attention ALL TEACHERS AND STUDENTS: we have called tow trucks, and they are coming for that car unless you move it immediatley." Mr. Phillips snapped his head up and said, "You know what, that was really, um, perfect, you two. I'll be right back." He threw the clipboard on the piano and all but ran out.
So in the end, we ended up starting a total revolt. Seriously, if anyone had ever told me that unsupervised theatre was so much fun, i would have killed off all adults long ago. Plus, the guy who played Boq was one of those people who know absoloutly everything about stage crew and sound systems, and he hooked up Eric's iPod to play all those stupid show tunes that he liked, plus the crazy frog songs, which he swears arent his. I'm so sure.
And then when we all left, we were rewarded with the very amusing sight of mr. phillips screaming at the tow truck guys as they tried to drive away with his car.
How's that for poetic justice?
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Blog Story, P5
Okay, i KNOW this is short, but this week was insane. i'll be better next time! *hangs head in shame*
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By the next day, i was tired of avoiding Eric. Actually, i didnt even remember why i had been avoiding him in the first place. He was going to find me somehow, like he always managed to do when i was mad at him. So i decided to make it my descision to forgive him, since apparently i am five.
I walked up to him at lunch and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and jumped when he saw me. "Miley! Hi!" he said in the overfriendly way that's a huge, blinking, pink-and-yellow neon warning sign that he's going to apologize in five seconds or less.
"I'm done being a bitch now."
"Oh, no, you weren't--"
"It's not like there's anything we can do about it, right?" I cut him off. He gave me a weird look and said, "Yeah, i guess." It's not like this was that odd. i'm usually the one who blows off the big-deal apology, because it's just too much thinking. And with rehersal today and having to stare at him for two hours straight? Ew.
"So...we should probably, you know...eat."
"That would be good." We walked over to the table in time for me to get hit in the head with a Tater Tot. "What the--"
"GOOOOAAAAAAAAALLLLLL!" The football players screamed, pounding their fists on the table. I was pretty much ready to kill them, but i didnt out of respect for Eric. They couldnt hit me back, so they'd probably hit him. And kill him. And then i wouldnt have anyone to eat lunch with.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
By the next day, i was tired of avoiding Eric. Actually, i didnt even remember why i had been avoiding him in the first place. He was going to find me somehow, like he always managed to do when i was mad at him. So i decided to make it my descision to forgive him, since apparently i am five.
I walked up to him at lunch and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and jumped when he saw me. "Miley! Hi!" he said in the overfriendly way that's a huge, blinking, pink-and-yellow neon warning sign that he's going to apologize in five seconds or less.
"I'm done being a bitch now."
"Oh, no, you weren't--"
"It's not like there's anything we can do about it, right?" I cut him off. He gave me a weird look and said, "Yeah, i guess." It's not like this was that odd. i'm usually the one who blows off the big-deal apology, because it's just too much thinking. And with rehersal today and having to stare at him for two hours straight? Ew.
"So...we should probably, you know...eat."
"That would be good." We walked over to the table in time for me to get hit in the head with a Tater Tot. "What the--"
"GOOOOAAAAAAAAALLLLLL!" The football players screamed, pounding their fists on the table. I was pretty much ready to kill them, but i didnt out of respect for Eric. They couldnt hit me back, so they'd probably hit him. And kill him. And then i wouldnt have anyone to eat lunch with.
Ricey Rocks
Still working on my story. I have writer's block. So i decided to put this conversation on here. it's about...PLUTO!! Title is c/o tim.
me: why is pluto dead?
did someone explode it?
Tim: It's no longer a planet
BEcause
that's what's the astonomers said
WE now have 8 planets
and several dwarf planets
Me: whaa why???
so now the rhym is wrong!
*M*y *V*ery *E*ntergetic *M*other *J*ust *S*erved *U*s *N*ine *P*izzas
and now
we have no pizza!!
well
why isnt it a planet?? * still processing this *
but but but
they made it a planet before!!!!!!!!
* cries *
so confused...
PM But i memorized it!!!
no
but
but
it was PLUTO!!
Tim: It still is
me: but it was all important up there...
Tim: Look
Pluto is inatimate
me: with the big planets...
Tim: it doesn't care
me: I'M VERY ATTACHED TO PLUTO OKAY?!?!?!?
Tim: Talk to NASA
maybe they can send you some pictures or something
me: OMG weird stuffs...
Tim: ?
me: is everything now a picture of jesus???
Tim: ?
Wha?
me: it's like, "i found a picture of jesus on my turtle!"
i'm serious
Tim: ?
Where?
me: only wait no it was mary
Tim: Where?
me: on the turtle
Tim: No
i mean
where is this turtle
you speak of?
me: i don't know
Tim: Okay...
me: on the news
Tim: Go to here:
http://pluto.planetologie.de/images/pluto.jpg
Picture of pluto
me: why would i want a picture of pluto?
it's not even a planet anymore
jeez
Tim: Because you said you were attached to it
me: yes
yes i am
Tim: So I gave you a picture
me: awwww look at the cute little pluto!
i thought it was purple tho...
Tim: Exactly
NO!
It's a big ball of ICY ROCK!!!!!
me: don't worry it's still cute
Tim: RICY ROCKS!!!!!!!
me: ricy??
Tim: *ICY
me: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHA
HA
HAHA
Tim: 3
2
1
DRAW!
me: ?
Tim: BANG!
me: oh no
not that again
Tim: You ahve just lost your first internet shoot-out!
*have
me: not my first
or second
or thir
d
Tim: Oh.
3
2
me: or 1000000th
Tim: 1
DRAW!
me: * hides *
Tim: ZAP!
me: i hid
haha
ricy
HA
Tim: No, you didn't
me: yes i did
Tim: It has to be *bold*, _italic_, in CAPITAL LETTERS, with and ! at the end
HIDES!
works
but *hides *
doesn't
me: that wouldnt make any sense
Tim: Yes it does
me: the word "hides" shouldnt be conspicuous
Tim: its how th egame is played
me: i'm trying to HIDE
Tim: SO!?!
These are the rules established by the creators of the game
me: sooo if i went HIDES!
you would probably hear me
Tim: No
Look
me: and figure out where i was
Tim: that's how the game is
besides
we dion't hear anything
We're typing
me: so?
Tim: Nevermind
Pluto is not a planet
that is th epoint
we should blow it up!
me: and not ricy
icy
NO
YOU SHAL NEVER BLOW UP PLUTO
IF YOU BLOW UP PLUTO, I'LL BLOW YOU UP!
Tim: No, you won't
That's illegal
me: so is blowing up pluto
Tim: No
me: yes
Tim: there's no law against exploding other planets
me: yuh-huh!
Tim: What law?
outlaws it?
me: the law that says nasa will send mafia hit men and various types of disgruntled extraterrestrials to attack you and blow you up
Tim: NO!
me: then you can see how pluto feels
Tim: Pluto is a chunk of rock in space!
It doesn't feel anything!
me: just picturing the very rewarding image of tim's head exploding here
Tim: WTM!?!
me: ummmmmm
oh yeah
what the monkey
what if i were to say
WTF??
or WTFF?
6:02 PM Tim: What the frankfirter
me: (what the french fry)
Tim: or
what the plying flapjack
me: wtff=what the french fry
plying flapjack!
Tim: flying flapjack
me: HA...nah, still not as funny as ricy rock
i need a title for my blog
Tim: Ricey Rocks
me: hahahah...nah that sounds slightly dirty...for some reason...
ahahahaha
hmmm
Tim: Whatever
me: * thinks *
Tim: pluto = rice ball?
me: * screw pops out of brain *
Hahahahahaha ricey
Tim: Exaclty
me: ummmmmmmmmm
Tim: I'm still blowing up Pluto
me: no ur not
Tim: to get the rice!
me: HA
and i'm naming my blog "I <3 Cherry Soda
NO YOU ARE NOT BLOWING UP PLUTO!!!
And so...the legend was born. the original conversation is much longer, but we just go off on a random tangent about music, musicals, sweeny todd, and how bad i sing.
me: why is pluto dead?
did someone explode it?
Tim: It's no longer a planet
BEcause
that's what's the astonomers said
WE now have 8 planets
and several dwarf planets
Me: whaa why???
so now the rhym is wrong!
*M*y *V*ery *E*ntergetic *M*other *J*ust *S*erved *U*s *N*ine *P*izzas
and now
we have no pizza!!
well
why isnt it a planet?? * still processing this *
but but but
they made it a planet before!!!!!!!!
* cries *
so confused...
PM But i memorized it!!!
no
but
but
it was PLUTO!!
Tim: It still is
me: but it was all important up there...
Tim: Look
Pluto is inatimate
me: with the big planets...
Tim: it doesn't care
me: I'M VERY ATTACHED TO PLUTO OKAY?!?!?!?
Tim: Talk to NASA
maybe they can send you some pictures or something
me: OMG weird stuffs...
Tim: ?
me: is everything now a picture of jesus???
Tim: ?
Wha?
me: it's like, "i found a picture of jesus on my turtle!"
i'm serious
Tim: ?
Where?
me: only wait no it was mary
Tim: Where?
me: on the turtle
Tim: No
i mean
where is this turtle
you speak of?
me: i don't know
Tim: Okay...
me: on the news
Tim: Go to here:
http://pluto.planetologie.de/images/pluto.jpg
Picture of pluto
me: why would i want a picture of pluto?
it's not even a planet anymore
jeez
Tim: Because you said you were attached to it
me: yes
yes i am
Tim: So I gave you a picture
me: awwww look at the cute little pluto!
i thought it was purple tho...
Tim: Exactly
NO!
It's a big ball of ICY ROCK!!!!!
me: don't worry it's still cute
Tim: RICY ROCKS!!!!!!!
me: ricy??
Tim: *ICY
me: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHA
HA
HAHA
Tim: 3
2
1
DRAW!
me: ?
Tim: BANG!
me: oh no
not that again
Tim: You ahve just lost your first internet shoot-out!
*have
me: not my first
or second
or thir
d
Tim: Oh.
3
2
me: or 1000000th
Tim: 1
DRAW!
me: * hides *
Tim: ZAP!
me: i hid
haha
ricy
HA
Tim: No, you didn't
me: yes i did
Tim: It has to be *bold*, _italic_, in CAPITAL LETTERS, with and ! at the end
HIDES!
works
but *hides *
doesn't
me: that wouldnt make any sense
Tim: Yes it does
me: the word "hides" shouldnt be conspicuous
Tim: its how th egame is played
me: i'm trying to HIDE
Tim: SO!?!
These are the rules established by the creators of the game
me: sooo if i went HIDES!
you would probably hear me
Tim: No
Look
me: and figure out where i was
Tim: that's how the game is
besides
we dion't hear anything
We're typing
me: so?
Tim: Nevermind
Pluto is not a planet
that is th epoint
we should blow it up!
me: and not ricy
icy
NO
YOU SHAL NEVER BLOW UP PLUTO
IF YOU BLOW UP PLUTO, I'LL BLOW YOU UP!
Tim: No, you won't
That's illegal
me: so is blowing up pluto
Tim: No
me: yes
Tim: there's no law against exploding other planets
me: yuh-huh!
Tim: What law?
outlaws it?
me: the law that says nasa will send mafia hit men and various types of disgruntled extraterrestrials to attack you and blow you up
Tim: NO!
me: then you can see how pluto feels
Tim: Pluto is a chunk of rock in space!
It doesn't feel anything!
me: just picturing the very rewarding image of tim's head exploding here
Tim: WTM!?!
me: ummmmmm
oh yeah
what the monkey
what if i were to say
WTF??
or WTFF?
6:02 PM Tim: What the frankfirter
me: (what the french fry)
Tim: or
what the plying flapjack
me: wtff=what the french fry
plying flapjack!
Tim: flying flapjack
me: HA...nah, still not as funny as ricy rock
i need a title for my blog
Tim: Ricey Rocks
me: hahahah...nah that sounds slightly dirty...for some reason...
ahahahaha
hmmm
Tim: Whatever
me: * thinks *
Tim: pluto = rice ball?
me: * screw pops out of brain *
Hahahahahaha ricey
Tim: Exaclty
me: ummmmmmmmmm
Tim: I'm still blowing up Pluto
me: no ur not
Tim: to get the rice!
me: HA
and i'm naming my blog "I <3 Cherry Soda
NO YOU ARE NOT BLOWING UP PLUTO!!!
And so...the legend was born. the original conversation is much longer, but we just go off on a random tangent about music, musicals, sweeny todd, and how bad i sing.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Sharp Focus
blog story p 5 coming out relativley soon-ish, i.e when i feel like it. But i made some pictures and thought "Hey, i'll put these on my blog".
This is the original:
this is the other version. i used sharp focus, tint, saturation and funky tools like that:
This is the original:
this is the other version. i used sharp focus, tint, saturation and funky tools like that:
Saturday, September 23, 2006
A Little Break + A Tour Of the Rope Swing
Okay so just FYI, the 5th part of my blog story is below. These are some random pix. Enjoy.
The view from a few yards away
Looking Up, Pt 1.
The view from a few yards away
Looking Up, Pt 1.
Looking up, Pt 2.
Looking Down
Lift Off
Spin
In The Air
Blog Story, P4
As Emily would say, MAHALO (weird!) to Elizzy for names!!!! Mahalo means thank you, not an insult as i originally thought. So yes...NAMES!!!!!
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
I left as soon as i possibly could. I didnt talk to Eric because i just didnt
feel like dealing. It was his fault anyways, and what with having Science 8th period, i didnt need anymore drama.
Because did i mention that Luke is in my science class? And that he's my partner because every teacher in this stupid school is obsessed with alphabetical order? No, i don't think i did. But needless to say, by the end of the day i felt like i was going to punch the next person who could possibly have been doing something stupid to me in a past life. or something. Basically, i was touchy to the extreme. And Luke is not a good person to be touchy around.
"Okay, here's what's gonna happen, dude," he said, with the most obnoxious look ever on his face. "I don't feel like working, so you're gonna do whatever the hell we need to do with these acid things, and i'm gonna observe."
This guy was in for a major reality check. What i wanted to do was pour the acid all over his head, but the teacher was watching, so i settled for saying, "Um, okay, here's what's really gonna happen, DUDE. YOU'RE going to do something for once in your life and get some test tubes and gloves and stick the test tube in the holder and we're going to do the freaking experiment thing and YOU are going to type the lab report this time." He started to protest. "Unless you want me to stick that test tube somewhere else, you're going to do it NOW." He muttered something rude under his breath and walked off.
That felt better.
Not as good as pouring acidic substances over his snarky head.
But still.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Chocolate banana split with two cherries and rainbow sprinkles. Oh, and with a banana."
That part was kind of included in the whole 'banana split' thing, I thought. But that's not what came out of my mouth. Not unless i wanted another lecture on respecting the customer. "That's $4.50, please." I handed the kid the banana split. "There IS a banana in this, right?"
"Look, why do you keep asking that? It's a banana split. It even says BANANA right there on the chalkboard," I said, forgetting about respecting the customer for just one minute.
"Because the last time I ordered this, the guy with the moustache gave me a fish."
I rolled my eyes and sighed. Not again."Well, it's a banana."
He looked doubtful. "You swear?"
I held up my right hand and touched my pinkie with my thumb. "Girl Scout Promise." I'm not a girl scout, but the kid didnt need to know that.
I waited until there was a lull before i started yelling at Ted.
"Ted?"
"Yeah?"
"I had some kid out here about an hour ago who said that you made him a banana split with some interesting ingredients." Silence. "As in, a fish."
More silence.
"Ted, seriously, we talked about this. Mr. Boss will kill you if you do that again and i will have to dispose of the body and it will NOT be pretty. I know what you made in Utah; you explained that to me after the Double Caramel-Pickle Crunch Incedent. But this isnt Utah. It's West Virginia. We're not as, uh, daring around here. So just stick to the classics, okay?" He grumbled and went into the back, probably to find out if we had any roadkill to mix into the Bubblegum Float.
Employees at I-Skreem (har de har har) are usually a little...interesting. I get to boss everyone else around becuase i'm some sort of Junior Manager or something. It kind of worries me that the Junior Manager is 15 and supposed to control people who are up to twice her age and are routinley discovered to be on the run from the law or actually a man. But it pays really good and i get free ice cream to bring home to my siblings.
Suddenly, a huge crash came from outside, followed by an "Oops" and what sounded like six other kids cracking up. And it was getting closer.
Oh, no.
I knew that noise. It was the noise of the absoloute terror that was...my family.
Well, okay, not ALL of them were in my family. But three were. My brothers Dennis and Craig, and my sister, Blaire. The other four were their friends, Alyssa, Natalie, Owen, and Eli. They left the animals outside this time, thank God. But judging from what Owen was wearing, i.e. paint, he had just knocked over the guy touching up the sign outside the hardware store. And the hardware store people arent traditionally the nicest bunch.
And instead of being all, Get out of here, and leaving them to their fate, which i totally should have, I explained to the hardware store man (a balding guy who got toatlly red in the face every time he yelled, which is often, so he spends most of his life looking like a couple of tomatoes lumped on top of each other) that there was no way any kids had ran in here, while the aforementioned kids hid under the counter.
After he left, they started running around back there. "Guys," I said kind of tiredly, "why are you here?"
"Mom's at work, Dad's at work, you're at work," Blaire sang. "Everyone's at work! So we walked here from the bus stop instead of going home on the bus."
Yes, my clueless mother lets my brothers and sister, ages 10 (Dennis), 8 (Craig), and 6 (Blaire), along with their friends (whose ages rage from 11, Owen, to 5, Eli) ride the bus. Not the school bus, either, because we don't really have school buses around here, but the city bus. Or at least she's letting them until she quits her job or i learn to drive or both. Her rationale is that nothing goes on here anyways, so there's no way they'll get abducted or anything like that. I know people whose moms would have rather cut off their left hand than have them ride the bus when they were in kindergarten.
"Does Mom know you guys are here?" I asked, because we basically take care of Alyssa, Natalie, Owen and Eli. Their parents work more than mine do, and for longer, and they do buisness trips.
"No, but you can call her. Now give us ice cream!" Craig demanded, pulling together a couple of tables so they could all sit together.
Which is how i ended up spending my Thursday afternoon doing German homework under the glow of the flourescent lights of I-Skreem, in that tiny little semi-deserted shopping center, babysitting essentially the entire under-12 population of my neighborhood and answering questions about double-didget multiplication until 8 PM, when i took them all home because my mom was too busy and my dad was too busy and their parents were in Australia and i'm expected to because i'm The Responsible One, whether i want to be or not, even at work, and if Ted does that again Mr. Boss won't have to kill him, i'll kill him, and that stupid Luke, why does he have to be my science partner, and Eric is stupid, auditioning for Fiyero, and then i went to bed and fell asleep with all of these thoughts swirling around in my head.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
I left as soon as i possibly could. I didnt talk to Eric because i just didnt
feel like dealing. It was his fault anyways, and what with having Science 8th period, i didnt need anymore drama.
Because did i mention that Luke is in my science class? And that he's my partner because every teacher in this stupid school is obsessed with alphabetical order? No, i don't think i did. But needless to say, by the end of the day i felt like i was going to punch the next person who could possibly have been doing something stupid to me in a past life. or something. Basically, i was touchy to the extreme. And Luke is not a good person to be touchy around.
"Okay, here's what's gonna happen, dude," he said, with the most obnoxious look ever on his face. "I don't feel like working, so you're gonna do whatever the hell we need to do with these acid things, and i'm gonna observe."
This guy was in for a major reality check. What i wanted to do was pour the acid all over his head, but the teacher was watching, so i settled for saying, "Um, okay, here's what's really gonna happen, DUDE. YOU'RE going to do something for once in your life and get some test tubes and gloves and stick the test tube in the holder and we're going to do the freaking experiment thing and YOU are going to type the lab report this time." He started to protest. "Unless you want me to stick that test tube somewhere else, you're going to do it NOW." He muttered something rude under his breath and walked off.
That felt better.
Not as good as pouring acidic substances over his snarky head.
But still.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Chocolate banana split with two cherries and rainbow sprinkles. Oh, and with a banana."
That part was kind of included in the whole 'banana split' thing, I thought. But that's not what came out of my mouth. Not unless i wanted another lecture on respecting the customer. "That's $4.50, please." I handed the kid the banana split. "There IS a banana in this, right?"
"Look, why do you keep asking that? It's a banana split. It even says BANANA right there on the chalkboard," I said, forgetting about respecting the customer for just one minute.
"Because the last time I ordered this, the guy with the moustache gave me a fish."
I rolled my eyes and sighed. Not again."Well, it's a banana."
He looked doubtful. "You swear?"
I held up my right hand and touched my pinkie with my thumb. "Girl Scout Promise." I'm not a girl scout, but the kid didnt need to know that.
I waited until there was a lull before i started yelling at Ted.
"Ted?"
"Yeah?"
"I had some kid out here about an hour ago who said that you made him a banana split with some interesting ingredients." Silence. "As in, a fish."
More silence.
"Ted, seriously, we talked about this. Mr. Boss will kill you if you do that again and i will have to dispose of the body and it will NOT be pretty. I know what you made in Utah; you explained that to me after the Double Caramel-Pickle Crunch Incedent. But this isnt Utah. It's West Virginia. We're not as, uh, daring around here. So just stick to the classics, okay?" He grumbled and went into the back, probably to find out if we had any roadkill to mix into the Bubblegum Float.
Employees at I-Skreem (har de har har) are usually a little...interesting. I get to boss everyone else around becuase i'm some sort of Junior Manager or something. It kind of worries me that the Junior Manager is 15 and supposed to control people who are up to twice her age and are routinley discovered to be on the run from the law or actually a man. But it pays really good and i get free ice cream to bring home to my siblings.
Suddenly, a huge crash came from outside, followed by an "Oops" and what sounded like six other kids cracking up. And it was getting closer.
Oh, no.
I knew that noise. It was the noise of the absoloute terror that was...my family.
Well, okay, not ALL of them were in my family. But three were. My brothers Dennis and Craig, and my sister, Blaire. The other four were their friends, Alyssa, Natalie, Owen, and Eli. They left the animals outside this time, thank God. But judging from what Owen was wearing, i.e. paint, he had just knocked over the guy touching up the sign outside the hardware store. And the hardware store people arent traditionally the nicest bunch.
And instead of being all, Get out of here, and leaving them to their fate, which i totally should have, I explained to the hardware store man (a balding guy who got toatlly red in the face every time he yelled, which is often, so he spends most of his life looking like a couple of tomatoes lumped on top of each other) that there was no way any kids had ran in here, while the aforementioned kids hid under the counter.
After he left, they started running around back there. "Guys," I said kind of tiredly, "why are you here?"
"Mom's at work, Dad's at work, you're at work," Blaire sang. "Everyone's at work! So we walked here from the bus stop instead of going home on the bus."
Yes, my clueless mother lets my brothers and sister, ages 10 (Dennis), 8 (Craig), and 6 (Blaire), along with their friends (whose ages rage from 11, Owen, to 5, Eli) ride the bus. Not the school bus, either, because we don't really have school buses around here, but the city bus. Or at least she's letting them until she quits her job or i learn to drive or both. Her rationale is that nothing goes on here anyways, so there's no way they'll get abducted or anything like that. I know people whose moms would have rather cut off their left hand than have them ride the bus when they were in kindergarten.
"Does Mom know you guys are here?" I asked, because we basically take care of Alyssa, Natalie, Owen and Eli. Their parents work more than mine do, and for longer, and they do buisness trips.
"No, but you can call her. Now give us ice cream!" Craig demanded, pulling together a couple of tables so they could all sit together.
Which is how i ended up spending my Thursday afternoon doing German homework under the glow of the flourescent lights of I-Skreem, in that tiny little semi-deserted shopping center, babysitting essentially the entire under-12 population of my neighborhood and answering questions about double-didget multiplication until 8 PM, when i took them all home because my mom was too busy and my dad was too busy and their parents were in Australia and i'm expected to because i'm The Responsible One, whether i want to be or not, even at work, and if Ted does that again Mr. Boss won't have to kill him, i'll kill him, and that stupid Luke, why does he have to be my science partner, and Eric is stupid, auditioning for Fiyero, and then i went to bed and fell asleep with all of these thoughts swirling around in my head.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Blog Story, P3
I saw guys and dolls on sunday, and it was SO FUNNY i heart it...and the jazz hands. Lol. The girl who played Adelaide (i think her name was Maeve??) was SO good. And so were Angie and Jeff S. and Sam. Jazz hands....lolz.
Also, i'm having a very, VERY hard time naming my characters, considering that it's not like i can name them after my friends cuz hello you're reading it and everything, and i don't want to use names i had in my other story. If you have suggestions, please for the love of my sanity tell me some.
So now that that's out there...STORYTIME!!!
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I was sitting there in the auditorium like a total idiot, wondering why I was even there. Well, i knew why i was there. The main reason was pretty much Eric-shaped. But I'll get to that later.
Rewind to about three hours ago. I was wasting time between classes when someone walked by and shoved a flyer in my hand. It said WICKED in big letters with tryout times underneath.
Wicked? The music teachers were seriously attempting Wicked this year? The best musical in the world (in my opinion anyways) and they were going to RUIN it. No, they were going to KILL it. It was going to die right there on that stage, where girls in too-tight dresses attempted to sing high notes and the guys were incapable of saying two coherent words in a row. Seriously. That's how bad our musicals are. The marching band? Pretty good. The orchestra? Great. The chorus? They won an award. But the musical had always fallen behind.
Which is why I screamed, "Are you INSANE?" when Eric told me that he was going to try out this year.
"I thought you liked this one. You hated Sweeny Todd, you couldnt stand The Music Man, and you laughed at the hairstyles the entire time when they played Grease on TV. But you actually LIKE this one, right?" He frowned at me.
"I like it, sure, but our school? Come on."
"What? You like it; come try out with me."
"WHAT???" It's official, I thought. Eric has Lost. His. Mind.
"You can sing alright, and you're constantly talking about how much you want to be Elphaba someday, right?"
"Right, but--"
"And you could just try out, even if it totally sucks, right?"
"Maybe, but--"
"Okay, well, you're coming."
And I did it, because i am a pushover and a doormat and all other bad things, and now i was getting my payback in the form of having to listen to this girl sing. Seriously, I didnt know who she was, but she didnt have any singing voice whatsoever. Not that i'm that much better, but geez...someone should have told her before she tried to hit the high F.
"Uh, okay, thank you," Mr. Phillips said. "Next up is....Milly Herdman?" Ew. I hate it when people say my name like that.
"I'm here," I said, climbing on the stage. The entire time, i wasnt really focusing. It wasnt like i was going to get in anyways. Most of my time was occupied by trying not to trip over myself and giving Eric my best Look Of Death. He asked me to act out a scene for him with Eric as the wizard, and i did. Mostly, i just acted like i thought Eric was the most annoying human being ever invented (which wasnt too hard at the moment, let me tell you), and he acted, well, like Eric. Whatever. Then i had to sing "Defying Gravity." I'm okay, i guess, considering how many times i've had it stuck in my head, and nobody ran out of the room with their hands clamped over their ears screaming "Dear God make it stop." So that was a success, i guess.
The rest of the time was boring. I watched Eric sing "A Sentimental Man", and then we laughed at all the blondes who came to try out for Glinda/Galinda. Never really got that, by the way. After the last screechy-voiced boy left the stage, Mr. Phillips dismissed us all, saying that callbacks would be posted after lunch.
I walked up to the door of the music room half an hour later. There were people everywhere, the kind of people who live for the show, who were shrieking and biting their nails. Eric got a callback (no surprise), i saw as scanned the list. Grayson, Hanna, Herdman...wait, what??
I have to admit, i was kind of surprised that i got a callback. It's not like i'm one of those people who would die if they didnt have Mr. Phillips deciding that they were fit for one of his sucky productions. I would have most likely turned around, laughed, told Eric that i was right, and walked away. We had been given this huge speech about commitment to the production and the long honorable tradition of theatre (I'll admit it: I laughed hard at that one) and about how if we didnt give all of our time we would be kicked out, blah, blah, blah, until i was practically snoring.
The next auditions were after school. I acted, Mr. Phillips looked down his nose at all of us. No different than the last time, except for one thing. I kept having to read for elphaba and he kept having to read for fiyero. After the whole thing was over, i was ready to go home. Mr. Phillips kept yelling at us for every little thing. It's not like i had volunteered for this. Well, technically i had, but really Eric had volunteered me so that didnt count.
Mr. Phillips stepped up on the stage and started reading the names of the people who had made it in. Madame Morrible, Nessa, Doctor Dillamond...I wonder what was for dinner....The Wizard, Glinda...
"Fiyero: Eric Perterson." Well, good for him. that just left--
"Elphaba: Miley Herdman."
WHAT? That was cool...until i remembered who was Fiyero. Eric and i stared at each other in horror.
That figures.
Also, i'm having a very, VERY hard time naming my characters, considering that it's not like i can name them after my friends cuz hello you're reading it and everything, and i don't want to use names i had in my other story. If you have suggestions, please for the love of my sanity tell me some.
So now that that's out there...STORYTIME!!!
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I was sitting there in the auditorium like a total idiot, wondering why I was even there. Well, i knew why i was there. The main reason was pretty much Eric-shaped. But I'll get to that later.
Rewind to about three hours ago. I was wasting time between classes when someone walked by and shoved a flyer in my hand. It said WICKED in big letters with tryout times underneath.
Wicked? The music teachers were seriously attempting Wicked this year? The best musical in the world (in my opinion anyways) and they were going to RUIN it. No, they were going to KILL it. It was going to die right there on that stage, where girls in too-tight dresses attempted to sing high notes and the guys were incapable of saying two coherent words in a row. Seriously. That's how bad our musicals are. The marching band? Pretty good. The orchestra? Great. The chorus? They won an award. But the musical had always fallen behind.
Which is why I screamed, "Are you INSANE?" when Eric told me that he was going to try out this year.
"I thought you liked this one. You hated Sweeny Todd, you couldnt stand The Music Man, and you laughed at the hairstyles the entire time when they played Grease on TV. But you actually LIKE this one, right?" He frowned at me.
"I like it, sure, but our school? Come on."
"What? You like it; come try out with me."
"WHAT???" It's official, I thought. Eric has Lost. His. Mind.
"You can sing alright, and you're constantly talking about how much you want to be Elphaba someday, right?"
"Right, but--"
"And you could just try out, even if it totally sucks, right?"
"Maybe, but--"
"Okay, well, you're coming."
And I did it, because i am a pushover and a doormat and all other bad things, and now i was getting my payback in the form of having to listen to this girl sing. Seriously, I didnt know who she was, but she didnt have any singing voice whatsoever. Not that i'm that much better, but geez...someone should have told her before she tried to hit the high F.
"Uh, okay, thank you," Mr. Phillips said. "Next up is....Milly Herdman?" Ew. I hate it when people say my name like that.
"I'm here," I said, climbing on the stage. The entire time, i wasnt really focusing. It wasnt like i was going to get in anyways. Most of my time was occupied by trying not to trip over myself and giving Eric my best Look Of Death. He asked me to act out a scene for him with Eric as the wizard, and i did. Mostly, i just acted like i thought Eric was the most annoying human being ever invented (which wasnt too hard at the moment, let me tell you), and he acted, well, like Eric. Whatever. Then i had to sing "Defying Gravity." I'm okay, i guess, considering how many times i've had it stuck in my head, and nobody ran out of the room with their hands clamped over their ears screaming "Dear God make it stop." So that was a success, i guess.
The rest of the time was boring. I watched Eric sing "A Sentimental Man", and then we laughed at all the blondes who came to try out for Glinda/Galinda. Never really got that, by the way. After the last screechy-voiced boy left the stage, Mr. Phillips dismissed us all, saying that callbacks would be posted after lunch.
I walked up to the door of the music room half an hour later. There were people everywhere, the kind of people who live for the show, who were shrieking and biting their nails. Eric got a callback (no surprise), i saw as scanned the list. Grayson, Hanna, Herdman...wait, what??
I have to admit, i was kind of surprised that i got a callback. It's not like i'm one of those people who would die if they didnt have Mr. Phillips deciding that they were fit for one of his sucky productions. I would have most likely turned around, laughed, told Eric that i was right, and walked away. We had been given this huge speech about commitment to the production and the long honorable tradition of theatre (I'll admit it: I laughed hard at that one) and about how if we didnt give all of our time we would be kicked out, blah, blah, blah, until i was practically snoring.
The next auditions were after school. I acted, Mr. Phillips looked down his nose at all of us. No different than the last time, except for one thing. I kept having to read for elphaba and he kept having to read for fiyero. After the whole thing was over, i was ready to go home. Mr. Phillips kept yelling at us for every little thing. It's not like i had volunteered for this. Well, technically i had, but really Eric had volunteered me so that didnt count.
Mr. Phillips stepped up on the stage and started reading the names of the people who had made it in. Madame Morrible, Nessa, Doctor Dillamond...I wonder what was for dinner....The Wizard, Glinda...
"Fiyero: Eric Perterson." Well, good for him. that just left--
"Elphaba: Miley Herdman."
WHAT? That was cool...until i remembered who was Fiyero. Eric and i stared at each other in horror.
That figures.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Blog Story, P2
(Before I start, thanks to Emma and Will for the Karen and Karl dialouge below. Yes, they did actually say all that stuff.)
I headed out of German the next day (Evan was apparently President Bush in disguise) not feeling very chipper. We ran out of diet Coke, and the only thing that was left was one of those semi-putrid iced coffee bottle things. As long as i didnt gag, i could deal with it for the sake of not falling asleep in the middle of lunch and getting chicken noodle soup in my hair like that other time. I still hadnt had time to drink it, so i ran back to my locker during study hall.
I uncapped the bottle and took a tenative sniff.
Ew.
I looked at the clock. 4 more hours left until i could go home.
Bottoms up.
I took a sip and turned around...just in time for a UFB (unidentified flying backpack) to smack right into me.
I think you can guess what happened next. The frappachino went flying. I got slammed into a locker, and there was some shrieking from a few girls (you know, the kind who wear polos and really short skirts) who were concerned that a couple of drops had landed in their hair (which i was sure would probably explode if they got too near a bunsen burner in science, due to all the chemicals they put in it. Their hair, i mean). They didnt have to worry too much, though, because the majority of the drink had splashed onto this huge landmass of a guy. I looked around for the bottle so i could pick it up. "Sorry about that," I said to the guy. "I'm pretty sure that it won't stain or anything like that." I spotted the bottle at his feet and reached down to pick it up. There was coffee all over his big, black combat boots.
Wait a minute. Black combat boots?
I looked up. Oh, yes, I was dead.
He looked at me for a minute, like he couldnt quite place where he had seen me. Then he narrowed his eyes.
So very, very dead.
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"Mylie!!"
"Hey, Karen," I said to the five-year-old girl who had come to the door. "Is your mom here?"
"She just left. She saw you coming, and she was late," Karen recited. "Me and Karl are playing with our Beanie Babies. Come on, you can be the bunny rabbit." She pulled me into the living room, where her twin brother Karl was sitting on the rug surrounded by enough Beanie Babies to entertain five pre-schools. I took the animal that Karen handed me. "Aww, what a cute bunny," I said.
"Sergeant Bunny. He's a master." Karl said, completley seriously.
"Oh. A master of what?"
"War."
"Um...oh. Well, why don't i leave Sergeant Bunny here for a second." I walked over to the frige and grabbed a Coke. Katherine (Karl and Karen's mom) had babysat me up until i was like 11 years old, so i was allowed to do stuff like that. It's not like i even made she or her husband Kyle (yes, they have the whole cutesy K thing going on) pay me or anything. Technically my mom won't let me ask them, but it kind of makes sense since we're friends and stuff. Plus, i have a job at the ice cream place.
Anyway, even if we werent friends, i didnt want to fall asleep again. The last time that happened, it was disasterous. Think Sharpies and Silly String. I hadnt even had any caffine all day, so the whole Coke thing was definatley necessary. I squeezed my eyes shut as i remembered the stupid, stupid events of the day.
"Oh. It's YOU," he had said, a little sneer on his face. I pretty much wanted to hit him, but i HAD just spilled an iced beverage all over him. I didnt really get to be angry.
"Yeah, i guess so," I said, picking up the bottle and throwing it in a trash can. "Sorry about...that. I don't have the best coordination."
"I can see that. But whatever. I'm pretty much used to being assulted by you now."
"Okay, come on. It was two times, and one was an accident. Plus, i hardly think that having coffee spilled on you counts as assult. I'm sorry, but there's nothing i can do about it, and the bell is going to ring soon." I turned around and walked to my study hall. Actually, kind of more like ran. I took my usual seat in the second to last row next to Hannah. She peered at me curiously. "Why is your face going all weird like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like you just swallowed something disgusting." So i told her the story, complete with Mr. Combat Boots's reaction when I elbowed him. She started cracking up as the teacher walked in and started calling roll.
"Hannah Gilbert?"
"Here."
"Mylie Herdman?"
"Here," I yelled.
"Luke Hull?"
"Here." Ugh. I turned around, and sitting behind me was Mr. Combat Boots, a.k.a. Luke. When he saw me, the permanent smirk on his face grew a couple of centimeters. I snapped my head around to the front of the room.
What's wrong? Hannah mouthed.
It's HIM, I mouthed back. She immediatley turned around and studied him for a straight thirty seconds. Then she held up nine fingers and smiled.
I shook my head as violently as i could without giving myself whiplash. In Hannah language, that meant that he was a nine out of ten on our Hotness Chart (have i mentioned how boring study hall gets?). One is Mr. Thomas, the gross old Tech Ed teacher in middle school. Ten is Hayden Christensen. I did NOT want Luke to be cute.
Although he was kind of attractive, in that poseur, shaggy-hair way. If you liked that kind of thing. Which i didnt. But when i looked back, he looked at me like he knew exactly what we were talking about. And study hall went by and i ran out of there so fast i think i left tire tracks. This was very, very stupid. Only the first week of school and i had already made an enemy who could probably pound my face in. Great.
I walked back into the living room, but Karen and Karl werent there. "You guys?"
"What?" I heard Karen yell.
"Where are you?"
"Looking for Wormy! I can't find him!" She came running down the stairs just as Karl came out of the basement and locked the door behind him.
"Karl, do you know where Wormy is?"
"I locked him in the basement," he said.
"Why?"
"He hit Officer Squirrel in the head. I can let him out, but only on parole."
Seriously. Why do I even bother?
I headed out of German the next day (Evan was apparently President Bush in disguise) not feeling very chipper. We ran out of diet Coke, and the only thing that was left was one of those semi-putrid iced coffee bottle things. As long as i didnt gag, i could deal with it for the sake of not falling asleep in the middle of lunch and getting chicken noodle soup in my hair like that other time. I still hadnt had time to drink it, so i ran back to my locker during study hall.
I uncapped the bottle and took a tenative sniff.
Ew.
I looked at the clock. 4 more hours left until i could go home.
Bottoms up.
I took a sip and turned around...just in time for a UFB (unidentified flying backpack) to smack right into me.
I think you can guess what happened next. The frappachino went flying. I got slammed into a locker, and there was some shrieking from a few girls (you know, the kind who wear polos and really short skirts) who were concerned that a couple of drops had landed in their hair (which i was sure would probably explode if they got too near a bunsen burner in science, due to all the chemicals they put in it. Their hair, i mean). They didnt have to worry too much, though, because the majority of the drink had splashed onto this huge landmass of a guy. I looked around for the bottle so i could pick it up. "Sorry about that," I said to the guy. "I'm pretty sure that it won't stain or anything like that." I spotted the bottle at his feet and reached down to pick it up. There was coffee all over his big, black combat boots.
Wait a minute. Black combat boots?
I looked up. Oh, yes, I was dead.
He looked at me for a minute, like he couldnt quite place where he had seen me. Then he narrowed his eyes.
So very, very dead.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Mylie!!"
"Hey, Karen," I said to the five-year-old girl who had come to the door. "Is your mom here?"
"She just left. She saw you coming, and she was late," Karen recited. "Me and Karl are playing with our Beanie Babies. Come on, you can be the bunny rabbit." She pulled me into the living room, where her twin brother Karl was sitting on the rug surrounded by enough Beanie Babies to entertain five pre-schools. I took the animal that Karen handed me. "Aww, what a cute bunny," I said.
"Sergeant Bunny. He's a master." Karl said, completley seriously.
"Oh. A master of what?"
"War."
"Um...oh. Well, why don't i leave Sergeant Bunny here for a second." I walked over to the frige and grabbed a Coke. Katherine (Karl and Karen's mom) had babysat me up until i was like 11 years old, so i was allowed to do stuff like that. It's not like i even made she or her husband Kyle (yes, they have the whole cutesy K thing going on) pay me or anything. Technically my mom won't let me ask them, but it kind of makes sense since we're friends and stuff. Plus, i have a job at the ice cream place.
Anyway, even if we werent friends, i didnt want to fall asleep again. The last time that happened, it was disasterous. Think Sharpies and Silly String. I hadnt even had any caffine all day, so the whole Coke thing was definatley necessary. I squeezed my eyes shut as i remembered the stupid, stupid events of the day.
"Oh. It's YOU," he had said, a little sneer on his face. I pretty much wanted to hit him, but i HAD just spilled an iced beverage all over him. I didnt really get to be angry.
"Yeah, i guess so," I said, picking up the bottle and throwing it in a trash can. "Sorry about...that. I don't have the best coordination."
"I can see that. But whatever. I'm pretty much used to being assulted by you now."
"Okay, come on. It was two times, and one was an accident. Plus, i hardly think that having coffee spilled on you counts as assult. I'm sorry, but there's nothing i can do about it, and the bell is going to ring soon." I turned around and walked to my study hall. Actually, kind of more like ran. I took my usual seat in the second to last row next to Hannah. She peered at me curiously. "Why is your face going all weird like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like you just swallowed something disgusting." So i told her the story, complete with Mr. Combat Boots's reaction when I elbowed him. She started cracking up as the teacher walked in and started calling roll.
"Hannah Gilbert?"
"Here."
"Mylie Herdman?"
"Here," I yelled.
"Luke Hull?"
"Here." Ugh. I turned around, and sitting behind me was Mr. Combat Boots, a.k.a. Luke. When he saw me, the permanent smirk on his face grew a couple of centimeters. I snapped my head around to the front of the room.
What's wrong? Hannah mouthed.
It's HIM, I mouthed back. She immediatley turned around and studied him for a straight thirty seconds. Then she held up nine fingers and smiled.
I shook my head as violently as i could without giving myself whiplash. In Hannah language, that meant that he was a nine out of ten on our Hotness Chart (have i mentioned how boring study hall gets?). One is Mr. Thomas, the gross old Tech Ed teacher in middle school. Ten is Hayden Christensen. I did NOT want Luke to be cute.
Although he was kind of attractive, in that poseur, shaggy-hair way. If you liked that kind of thing. Which i didnt. But when i looked back, he looked at me like he knew exactly what we were talking about. And study hall went by and i ran out of there so fast i think i left tire tracks. This was very, very stupid. Only the first week of school and i had already made an enemy who could probably pound my face in. Great.
I walked back into the living room, but Karen and Karl werent there. "You guys?"
"What?" I heard Karen yell.
"Where are you?"
"Looking for Wormy! I can't find him!" She came running down the stairs just as Karl came out of the basement and locked the door behind him.
"Karl, do you know where Wormy is?"
"I locked him in the basement," he said.
"Why?"
"He hit Officer Squirrel in the head. I can let him out, but only on parole."
Seriously. Why do I even bother?
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Blog Story, P1
The impossibly hot doctor walked out of the operating room. He ran a hand through his hair as he looked down the hallway. There was an impossibly attractive woman sitting at the end of the hallway, the harsh flourescent lights of the hospital hitting her face at exactly the right angle. He walked down the hall, each step heavier than the last. The woman looked up.
"Brett! Is everything okay?"
"I have good news and bad news."
"Tell me, Bett! I can take it!"
"The good news is that the brain sugery was sucessful. Your husband is going to make it, Elizabeth."
"Oh, Brett, I knew you caould do it! But...what's the bad news?"
"He lost his memory. He doesnt remember you."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"
And that was when i turned off the TV.
"I mean, COME on. What kind of cheap, screw-up doctor is that?" I asked my friend Jessica later, as we walked down the sidewalk eating popcorn. "I wouldnt have cried and thrown myself at the doctor. It's his fault. I would have sued their asses is what i would have done."
"Oh, but isnt it romantic? She gets together with the doctor in the next season, you know," Jessica said, tripping over the curb.
"Um, come on. That's SO stupid. You know she's only doing it because he's hot. That doctor made her husband lose his mind. Or at least part of it. I don't know what you see in those stupid soap operas."
"It's a drama," she corrected me.
"It's completley unrealistic. Everything that happens has so much MEANING. Like, if this was a soap opera, every time you tripped a tanned surfer from Europe who's in the States visiting his evil twin who's pretending to be a grandmother would catch you and say "I love you"."
"Well...that did happen in season one."
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The next day was monday, a stupid assembly about someone once again graffiti-ing all over Gregory The Griffon, our school's big, useless stone mascot who resides right by the front stairs leading up to the building.
It's said that he was once actually, like, stone-colored, but that's chalked up to urban legend because not even my grandma was alive when he wasnt multicolored from all of the spraypaint, silly string, and the occasional cherry soda.
Apparently they WILL be looking for the person who did it this time. Although you can hardly tell the new graffiti from the old at this point. Plus, since this is a small town and all, all the teachers went to this school, and all of them have grafittied Gregory. The only reason they're making such a big deal about this is that our principal, Dr. Jones, is all wired from teaching in a school in the city. She thinks that everything is a conspiracy, and maybe in the city or the suburbs it would be. But, hello, this was Woodland. We werent anything really, not a suburb or a city or the country. It's basically boring here, kind of like the neighborhoods in Napolean Dynamite, but not in Indiana.
Personally, i think that she's just bored. Dr. Jones, i mean. She yelled at me this one time for being five minutes late and tried to make it look like i was off smoking pot in the bathrooms or something.
Like anyone could ever get pot in Woodland.
Anyways, I slid into the seat next to Jessica balencing my iPod and a full can of diet Coke (our school is copying all the big suburban ones and getting rid of sugary drinks and candy bars in the soda machine). "What'd I miss?"
"Paul's on crack, Todd's a spy for the CIA, and Marcia's father is actually Tom Cruise," she said, counting off on her fingers for every accusation that our pscyco German teacher had made before i walked in (a minute early, might i add).
"Poor her," I said about the whole Marcia thing. She actually DOES look a little like Tom Cruise.
How unfortunate.
Suddenly, something touched my back. I turned around and came face to face with a big, smelly pair of combat boots.
"Um," I said to the person attached to the boots, a huge, trying-to-be-tough-looking guy. "Can you move your feet?"
He loooked at me with a little, superior smirk. "Make me."
Wrong answer.
I smiled very sweetly, then jabbed my elbow into his leg.
He jumped and took his feet off the chair, but i'm pretty sure that was an accident. Judging by the way his face was turning that very interesting color of maroon.
"You bi-"
"Excuse me, students! May I have your attention please?"
The noise went down about half a decibal.
"People! Quiet!"
I settled back into the seat and watched Jones try to quiet everything down. Nothing like some great entertainment to start the day.
"Brett! Is everything okay?"
"I have good news and bad news."
"Tell me, Bett! I can take it!"
"The good news is that the brain sugery was sucessful. Your husband is going to make it, Elizabeth."
"Oh, Brett, I knew you caould do it! But...what's the bad news?"
"He lost his memory. He doesnt remember you."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"
And that was when i turned off the TV.
"I mean, COME on. What kind of cheap, screw-up doctor is that?" I asked my friend Jessica later, as we walked down the sidewalk eating popcorn. "I wouldnt have cried and thrown myself at the doctor. It's his fault. I would have sued their asses is what i would have done."
"Oh, but isnt it romantic? She gets together with the doctor in the next season, you know," Jessica said, tripping over the curb.
"Um, come on. That's SO stupid. You know she's only doing it because he's hot. That doctor made her husband lose his mind. Or at least part of it. I don't know what you see in those stupid soap operas."
"It's a drama," she corrected me.
"It's completley unrealistic. Everything that happens has so much MEANING. Like, if this was a soap opera, every time you tripped a tanned surfer from Europe who's in the States visiting his evil twin who's pretending to be a grandmother would catch you and say "I love you"."
"Well...that did happen in season one."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The next day was monday, a stupid assembly about someone once again graffiti-ing all over Gregory The Griffon, our school's big, useless stone mascot who resides right by the front stairs leading up to the building.
It's said that he was once actually, like, stone-colored, but that's chalked up to urban legend because not even my grandma was alive when he wasnt multicolored from all of the spraypaint, silly string, and the occasional cherry soda.
Apparently they WILL be looking for the person who did it this time. Although you can hardly tell the new graffiti from the old at this point. Plus, since this is a small town and all, all the teachers went to this school, and all of them have grafittied Gregory. The only reason they're making such a big deal about this is that our principal, Dr. Jones, is all wired from teaching in a school in the city. She thinks that everything is a conspiracy, and maybe in the city or the suburbs it would be. But, hello, this was Woodland. We werent anything really, not a suburb or a city or the country. It's basically boring here, kind of like the neighborhoods in Napolean Dynamite, but not in Indiana.
Personally, i think that she's just bored. Dr. Jones, i mean. She yelled at me this one time for being five minutes late and tried to make it look like i was off smoking pot in the bathrooms or something.
Like anyone could ever get pot in Woodland.
Anyways, I slid into the seat next to Jessica balencing my iPod and a full can of diet Coke (our school is copying all the big suburban ones and getting rid of sugary drinks and candy bars in the soda machine). "What'd I miss?"
"Paul's on crack, Todd's a spy for the CIA, and Marcia's father is actually Tom Cruise," she said, counting off on her fingers for every accusation that our pscyco German teacher had made before i walked in (a minute early, might i add).
"Poor her," I said about the whole Marcia thing. She actually DOES look a little like Tom Cruise.
How unfortunate.
Suddenly, something touched my back. I turned around and came face to face with a big, smelly pair of combat boots.
"Um," I said to the person attached to the boots, a huge, trying-to-be-tough-looking guy. "Can you move your feet?"
He loooked at me with a little, superior smirk. "Make me."
Wrong answer.
I smiled very sweetly, then jabbed my elbow into his leg.
He jumped and took his feet off the chair, but i'm pretty sure that was an accident. Judging by the way his face was turning that very interesting color of maroon.
"You bi-"
"Excuse me, students! May I have your attention please?"
The noise went down about half a decibal.
"People! Quiet!"
I settled back into the seat and watched Jones try to quiet everything down. Nothing like some great entertainment to start the day.
Top 25!! OOHHH What NOW?!?!?!
I have decided that i'm going to try to go in a new-ish direction, now that i've had 100 posts worth of emo. A mid-blog crisis, if you will.
So tomorrow i'm swallowing my fear that everything i write is complete and utter crap, and i'm putting a story up on here. today, i have nada to say, so i'm just going to post a list i made a WHILE ago.
Top 25 Ways to Go Crazy or Just Be Really Annoying:
By A to the L to the I
1.Search "the" on Google. And laugh as about 24,070,000,000 responses come up, the first one being "The onion"
2.Watch Zoolander every single day at least twice a day for a week or more.
3.Go around and tell people that they look like Ben Affleck. Laugh at the amount of people who believe you.
4.Look up Chester A. Arthur online, find a picture of him, print it out, and say, “He’s a hottie. I wanna marry him,” to everyone who walks by.
5.Dance like Kim.
6.Imitate the guy at the beginning of “Gold Digger”. Have someone who can’t rap at all be Kanye West.
7.If you have a guy and girl friend who hate/have no romantic interest in each other who are standing near each other, yell, “You’re going out?!?!?” really, REALLY loud.
8.Open up a cafeteria mini-tub of butter and tell a friend that it smells funny. Once they lean down, smush their nose in it.
9. If a girl friend runs up to you in a crowded hallway and says, “I have to tell you something,” yell, “YOU’RE PREGNANT???”
10 If somebody says a word that’s in a song, sing the song starting with that word.
11. Imitate Inigo Montoya saying, “HELLO!!”
12.Eat Poppin’ Chocolate Coins from the Lunchables snack packs.
13.Get so hyper off Chocolate Coins that a teacher refers you to the guidence councelor because she thinks that you’re high.
14.When the person in the grocery store asks you “Paper or plastic?” say, “Plastic. No, wait, paper. No, wait, plastic. No, wait, paper…I mean…plastic. I mean…could I have paper wrapped in plastic?”
15. Look for exact change.
16.Call up a pizza place and ask for the place next door. Keep calling. Then when they give you the number of the place next door, say, “Oh, this IS the pizza place? I wanted a [whatever the store next door sells] with double cheese, please.”
17.Eat Pop Rocks and drink soda.
18. tYp3 L1k3 tl-l1S.
19. Pretend to be a computer.
20. Say, “I’m sorry, I don’t speak English. Just American.”
21. When your substitute asks, “Any questions?” raise your hand and ask very sweetly, “Where do babies come from?”
22. Yell, “PRETTY BIRD” whenever anyone says anything to you all day.
23. Type in white font.
24. Buy a dance ticket, then blow your nose in it and say, “wow, that was the best $3 Kleenex ever! Thanks!”
25. Write a list like this one.
So tomorrow i'm swallowing my fear that everything i write is complete and utter crap, and i'm putting a story up on here. today, i have nada to say, so i'm just going to post a list i made a WHILE ago.
Top 25 Ways to Go Crazy or Just Be Really Annoying:
By A to the L to the I
1.Search "the" on Google. And laugh as about 24,070,000,000 responses come up, the first one being "The onion"
2.Watch Zoolander every single day at least twice a day for a week or more.
3.Go around and tell people that they look like Ben Affleck. Laugh at the amount of people who believe you.
4.Look up Chester A. Arthur online, find a picture of him, print it out, and say, “He’s a hottie. I wanna marry him,” to everyone who walks by.
5.Dance like Kim.
6.Imitate the guy at the beginning of “Gold Digger”. Have someone who can’t rap at all be Kanye West.
7.If you have a guy and girl friend who hate/have no romantic interest in each other who are standing near each other, yell, “You’re going out?!?!?” really, REALLY loud.
8.Open up a cafeteria mini-tub of butter and tell a friend that it smells funny. Once they lean down, smush their nose in it.
9. If a girl friend runs up to you in a crowded hallway and says, “I have to tell you something,” yell, “YOU’RE PREGNANT???”
10 If somebody says a word that’s in a song, sing the song starting with that word.
11. Imitate Inigo Montoya saying, “HELLO!!”
12.Eat Poppin’ Chocolate Coins from the Lunchables snack packs.
13.Get so hyper off Chocolate Coins that a teacher refers you to the guidence councelor because she thinks that you’re high.
14.When the person in the grocery store asks you “Paper or plastic?” say, “Plastic. No, wait, paper. No, wait, plastic. No, wait, paper…I mean…plastic. I mean…could I have paper wrapped in plastic?”
15. Look for exact change.
16.Call up a pizza place and ask for the place next door. Keep calling. Then when they give you the number of the place next door, say, “Oh, this IS the pizza place? I wanted a [whatever the store next door sells] with double cheese, please.”
17.Eat Pop Rocks and drink soda.
18. tYp3 L1k3 tl-l1S.
19. Pretend to be a computer.
20. Say, “I’m sorry, I don’t speak English. Just American.”
21. When your substitute asks, “Any questions?” raise your hand and ask very sweetly, “Where do babies come from?”
22. Yell, “PRETTY BIRD” whenever anyone says anything to you all day.
23. Type in white font.
24. Buy a dance ticket, then blow your nose in it and say, “wow, that was the best $3 Kleenex ever! Thanks!”
25. Write a list like this one.
Monday, September 11, 2006
Ali's SuperCool 100th post Celebration!!!
That's right people, 100 posts. I feel like i should make a speech...
Four score and twenty posts ago, the founder of this blog (me) introduced "C'est Moi" to the public.
Actually, it's more like unsespectingly launched on the poor, innocent public, but whatever.
This blog was mostly about me being emo and cursing out the Template dealio when i would change my layout (AGAIN) and it would delete my links. No matter how many times i changed my layout, I would always manage to do that. Even though the stuff i was doing wasnt as interesting as it could have been (if the gilmore girls marathons, obsessions over Jones Soda, and endless talk of Canada and Sasquatches over the summer was any indication), you guys actually read my blog. Of course, it's not like i'm sam and tim, who routinely get 5 bajillion comments (probably because sam is rarely emo and tim never is), but still. It ROCKS, being able to get heard without having to scream in someone's ear (*cough*middle school *cough*).
I think that I have probably used enough parenthases to last a lifetime, and had more names than most blogs ever did. C'est Moi, Randomesque, Total Violation of Logic, Confessions of a Teenage Drama Geek, Rhapsody in Pink, Rhapsody in PURPLE (after i dyed my hair) and I <3 Cherry Soda, in that order.
So, to ende this great (not) speech, let's all scream at the same time: "HERE'S TO 100 MORE POSTS, AND THAT ALI GETS THE ROLL IN THE BEST CHRISTMAS PAGENT EVER THAT SHE WANTS!!"
Four score and twenty posts ago, the founder of this blog (me) introduced "C'est Moi" to the public.
Actually, it's more like unsespectingly launched on the poor, innocent public, but whatever.
This blog was mostly about me being emo and cursing out the Template dealio when i would change my layout (AGAIN) and it would delete my links. No matter how many times i changed my layout, I would always manage to do that. Even though the stuff i was doing wasnt as interesting as it could have been (if the gilmore girls marathons, obsessions over Jones Soda, and endless talk of Canada and Sasquatches over the summer was any indication), you guys actually read my blog. Of course, it's not like i'm sam and tim, who routinely get 5 bajillion comments (probably because sam is rarely emo and tim never is), but still. It ROCKS, being able to get heard without having to scream in someone's ear (*cough*middle school *cough*).
I think that I have probably used enough parenthases to last a lifetime, and had more names than most blogs ever did. C'est Moi, Randomesque, Total Violation of Logic, Confessions of a Teenage Drama Geek, Rhapsody in Pink, Rhapsody in PURPLE (after i dyed my hair) and I <3 Cherry Soda, in that order.
So, to ende this great (not) speech, let's all scream at the same time: "HERE'S TO 100 MORE POSTS, AND THAT ALI GETS THE ROLL IN THE BEST CHRISTMAS PAGENT EVER THAT SHE WANTS!!"
Sunday, September 10, 2006
It's Just a Ride, It's Just a Ride
Another song title.
So I'm auditioning for The Best Christmas Pagent Ever 2day. I'm not too nervous because, hello, it's soooo much better acting in front of a bunch of people (or even, like, one, depending on how they work the auditions) that i've never met before in my life and will probably never meet ever than people from my school, no matter how many or how few of them they are. My parents officially stressed my sister by listing all of the bad things that could/would happen if we get roles (ex: emma has soccer and drum lessons, i have marching band on one of the nights of rehersal, etc.) and i'm sitting there like "We might not even get roles!!! Act now, stress later!!!"
So i have to go take a shower and find a picture of myself where i don't have purple hair, bangs, or a weird smile. Byeaz!
So I'm auditioning for The Best Christmas Pagent Ever 2day. I'm not too nervous because, hello, it's soooo much better acting in front of a bunch of people (or even, like, one, depending on how they work the auditions) that i've never met before in my life and will probably never meet ever than people from my school, no matter how many or how few of them they are. My parents officially stressed my sister by listing all of the bad things that could/would happen if we get roles (ex: emma has soccer and drum lessons, i have marching band on one of the nights of rehersal, etc.) and i'm sitting there like "We might not even get roles!!! Act now, stress later!!!"
So i have to go take a shower and find a picture of myself where i don't have purple hair, bangs, or a weird smile. Byeaz!
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Football Games, Chain Letters, And One Very Excellent Cup of Apple Juice
So i went and marched in the marching band thingy. It was fun, besides the fact that my suspenders (yes, we have to wear those) fell off at the end. But whatevs. The flutes were all, DANCE!
Then i wake up this morning, and i have this LOVELY chain letter sitting in my mailbox about how much God hates me or something, entitled "From Satan". That made me mad, but it scared me so i sent it on. And now i'm like GRRR! Because i'm not a bad person, just a kid. And those letters are stupid. And obviously made up by someone who has a holier-than-thou (no pun intended) attitude. Well, whoever made that up should REALLY go to hell. Whatever.
Apple juice with lemon-lime seltzer in it is really super good. Just had to add that there.
Then i wake up this morning, and i have this LOVELY chain letter sitting in my mailbox about how much God hates me or something, entitled "From Satan". That made me mad, but it scared me so i sent it on. And now i'm like GRRR! Because i'm not a bad person, just a kid. And those letters are stupid. And obviously made up by someone who has a holier-than-thou (no pun intended) attitude. Well, whoever made that up should REALLY go to hell. Whatever.
Apple juice with lemon-lime seltzer in it is really super good. Just had to add that there.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Beleted Bdays Rock...
MY SOCKS!!! Haha spiffy is a cool word. Like the ever-spiffy Fanglyman cloud on my shirt. He's the cutest!!! of course, i love the smiley clouds and the smiley sun, too. they're all my babies. But the Fanglyman is just SO CUTE!!
But to the beleted bday part: my aunt sent me presents! YAAAAAY! i got some lip glosses and some books and a superspiffy Wicked t-shirt that she got in nyc. it says "Defy Gravity" with a green e cuz elphaba's my favorite. Ooh! and official "Elphaba Earrings" *Struts around in spiffy offical-ness* And my locker is opening!!!!! YES! it is no longer misunderstood. And i'm sharing my band locker with 4 PEOPLE ZOMG and i got the DINKLES i.e. marching band shoes for those of you in the know. i havent tried them on yet but my mom just did and she yelled "These are so comfortable! I'll take these Dinkles!!" And i laughed.
Yesterday i told hans that i loved his baton and it was spiffy and he thought i was serious. Then he threw it like 10 ft in the air and caught it. One of those days that baton WILL fall on his head. And i will be there. And i will laugh.
But to the beleted bday part: my aunt sent me presents! YAAAAAY! i got some lip glosses and some books and a superspiffy Wicked t-shirt that she got in nyc. it says "Defy Gravity" with a green e cuz elphaba's my favorite. Ooh! and official "Elphaba Earrings" *Struts around in spiffy offical-ness* And my locker is opening!!!!! YES! it is no longer misunderstood. And i'm sharing my band locker with 4 PEOPLE ZOMG and i got the DINKLES i.e. marching band shoes for those of you in the know. i havent tried them on yet but my mom just did and she yelled "These are so comfortable! I'll take these Dinkles!!" And i laughed.
Yesterday i told hans that i loved his baton and it was spiffy and he thought i was serious. Then he threw it like 10 ft in the air and caught it. One of those days that baton WILL fall on his head. And i will be there. And i will laugh.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Evil Locks
My lock isnt evil, just misunderstood. But my patience is slowly running out. i mean, WHY CAN'T I OPEN IT??? or, rather, WHY IS IT THAT I CAN OPEN IT ONE TIME, PUT ALL MY STUFF IN IT, AND THEN CAN'T OPEN IT THE NEXT TIME I TRY!?!?!?!? urg. sam can open it. kathleen can open it. emily can open it. the frogs can open it. why can't i!?!?!?!?!? Then i went to band practice and talked to justine some and told her about how much my lock hates me. it's saaaaad. i'm very sensitive to inanimate objects hating me.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
High School
Yeah, so, stuffs. I went to high school today. Everyone is interrogating me. i have stuffs with people.. and. yeah. i'm tired. just read sam's blog. how depressing.
Monday, September 04, 2006
The Most Memorable Moments of Summer
- Spending hours in the guest cabin on Jamie's island, playing endless tournements of Mario Tennis and drinking soda (it reeeked of creme and grape soda in there).
- "I'm a Canadian! I'm a Canadian!"
- Bonfires
- Will's new catchphrases: Sasquatch/BAFFOON/BACHwheat/Batman/Canadian/You stanky!!
- Corning Glass Factory
- My first bottle of Jones
- IMing people for like 3 hrs straight
- Brad&Tyler's
- Rita's custards
- Emma's insane b-day par-tay (ouija!! ZOMG)
- Numa Numa
- "I don't like you!" "I DON'T LIKE YOU EITHER!!"
- The lip sync
- The murder mystery
- Steve the Captain of the Football Team
- Talking in questions
- "Oh woe is us! Oh woe is us!"
- "I'm not talking to this reject." "I'm not talking to THIS reject." "Oh yeah?!?" "YEAH!"
- Theatre camp in general
- Dying my hair purple, then having everyone think it was red, then have it completley fade out over the course of Band Camp
- The flute-ish pizza party, but with julie and sam and carissa and katie c. and people who weren't flutes at all
- The much more organized flute DINNER
- Band crushes
- Getting a phone
- MY BDAY!!!
- Obsessivley texting kim and then getting molly into it (HAH).
- Everyone having Sexyback for their ringtone and me dying because of that.
- Putting rhinestones on my Razer
- SWIMMING!
- Not going to the Phillies game and watching 7th Heven over the fone with emily and then kim.
- Going up to WVcabin with Grace and Maeve...good times, good times.
- The American Idol concert, and being tricked into thinking we werent going...lol.
- Buying tons of songs for my IPOD haHA
- Blogging, blogging...
- Doing nothing for weeks on a time
- Gilmore Girls marathons!
- Will sleeping in my room almost every night and us flipping out at each other
- "Sam! Jeff! No PDA!"
- Crash Bandicoot and the ghosts.
- Watching tons of music videosw/emma and will, and mocking almost every one besides the wonderful OK Go treadmills!
- Making up alternative lyrics to Hillary Duff songs
- Throwing water balloons off the steps, and then making them huge and throwing them straight up in the air. Haha.
- Sleeping in the basement with Zoe and Emma, then sleeping in Ben's room and freaking emma out with a swivel chair
- obsessivley changing my blog's name/layout
- Caffine!
- The rope swing
And now...it's over....*cries*
Sunday, September 03, 2006
EW
Sri just sent me pictures of dead baby seals. Why? i don't know. Did i delete it immediatley after seeing baby seals ripped apart? YES! so sorry that i didnt do the petition or w/e, I. HATE. BLOOD.
I went to the mall once yesterday and once today. I got a shirt, shoes, an umbrella and a jawbreaker yesterday and a cute t-shirt, earrings, a couple of pairs of jeans and Big Leauge Chew (i LOVE that stuff) today.
Then my sister and i made up alternative lyrics to fergie's (quite sucky) song "London Bridge." Sample lyric: "How come every time you come around/ i punch you in the face and you go down".
Well, my brother calls upon me to make a quiz for him. To the randomness!
I went to the mall once yesterday and once today. I got a shirt, shoes, an umbrella and a jawbreaker yesterday and a cute t-shirt, earrings, a couple of pairs of jeans and Big Leauge Chew (i LOVE that stuff) today.
Then my sister and i made up alternative lyrics to fergie's (quite sucky) song "London Bridge." Sample lyric: "How come every time you come around/ i punch you in the face and you go down".
Well, my brother calls upon me to make a quiz for him. To the randomness!
Friday, September 01, 2006
Wow...
Band camp is over. I don't know whether to say "Finally!" or "Really?" It was good for me to go, just because i met all these people, and i got to see sam and tim and matt and molly and katy and peeps. Now i'm going to the mall tomorrow with julie, molly, and maybe sara, hillary and katy. (The flute bunch! No, wait, Julie is color guard.) The first time (can you beevle it?!?!?) ALL SUMMER. And the thing is, summer is almost over. I know that having homework and stressing about English and especially science and math won't be too fun, but getting to see people will be decent. Ello, Devon, Emily, Jordan, and Jen (smith) are all in my homeroom, even tho i have zero classes with the first three. The thing is, this all seems so...now. September to about November seems like the most distant time ever. I can't listen to exactly 70 songs on my iTunes list without thinking about that time. Songs are weird. They remind me of the times that i listened to them. So now whenever i listen to "Hung Up" by Madonna i remember driving to the pumpkin patch or walking along the bus circle, and i shudder and turn it off.
So...what will the song be this year? I can't pick any i really like if it's a bad year, but i need good songs for good memories. whatever. The point of this is...I REALLY NEED TO SHOP!!
So...what will the song be this year? I can't pick any i really like if it's a bad year, but i need good songs for good memories. whatever. The point of this is...I REALLY NEED TO SHOP!!
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