alex's deep thoughts on... mario kart.

"Baby Peach, you can go get SIDS."

"You are a bastardly son of a bitch!"

On exploding coconuts: "Princess Diana would be pretty pissed off about those land mines."
After this, I had to explain why Princess Diana had a problem with land mines, because she didn't really know.

"Is Nintendo Japanese?"

"Let's be Donkey Kong. He's a pretty big tool."

sweep the streets that i used to own

Well, I am officially not a high schooler anymore. Which is kind of a weird feeling, as I am blissfully happy to have this chapter complete but because I also know that I likely have nine (vastly more exciting and rewarding) more years of school ahead of me so it's not a very final feeling. This also means it is officially summer, but I do not yet have my summer mood. Perhaps this is because I have been chill and not-caring for about six months now. I don't know.

Anyway, I ended up typing up a few extraneous things I had in school notebooks, and even though I'm maybe a third finished, Anna and Alex and I laughed incredibly hard at this list this afternoon, so, under the guise of reminiscing and sentimentality, I'm putting some of them on here:

"So, Frank puked up, like, all his lungs today." -Diana's first words of our senior year, spoken the second I open her passenger minivan door

Diana: Brian pushed me into Lake Superior once.
Alex: Oh, did you see the wreck of the F. Scott Fitzgerald?
(Hence the title of this lovely blarg.)

"I don't want to be sucky on my wedding night."
"Hahaha, maybe you do!"
"Can I just point out that I did not make that joke?"

Throughout the beginning of this year, it was well established that Al has issues counting change. Some classics:
-Al: Some of the questions on the WKCEs are so stupid. Like "how many dimes are in a dollar?"
Me: That might be a hard one for you, Al.
Al: I realized that after it came out of my mouth.
-"I forgot the value of change!"

The night we only talked about pirates:
-Anna: How many pirates do you know that don't have any teeth?
Me: Um, how many pirates do you know at all?
-"Elton John is NOT a pirate." -Anna, in dead seriousness.
-"Pirates are just like people in the Navy. They spend their time all alone on a ship by themselves with a bunch of other men." -Alex

Me: You can't make fun of him. He has a plate in his head.
Diana: So? I have screws in my arm.
Me: Do you think with your arm?
Diana: Sometimes.

Diana, talking about a girl who had holes in the back of her pants: "And then she was talking to me and in the middle of the conversation, she reached back and started feeling her ENORMOUS butt hole!"

[during the car ride to school that was a near-death encounter for a friendly neighborhood cat:]
"You could have made a sweater out of that cat."
"Yeah, and then I could have worn his head as a hat."

"Tell the unborn I say 'hi.'"
"Tell the unborn I say 'die.'"

"She's doing getting smart she is": the delicate art of text messaging.

you people suck.

Why didn't anyone tell me about Girl Talk before? This is maybe the greatest thing going right now. Whoever this is mixes many of my favorite 90s rock songs into a lot of the moderately offensive rap songs whose beats I secretly love. It's awesome! And I'm pissed at all of you because nobody told me about this sooner!

Seriously, it just keeps getting better. The extra-special song of Alex and I, "Damn I Wish I Was Your Lover," just got blended into a crazy Indian beat! (And I mean Indian in the politically correct way.)

"Boot with fur. Hmmm... Very good." -Frank

if i traded it all for one thing, just for one thing

Northworst Airlines, you make me sad. I cannot wait until I have expended all my frequent flyer miles and therefore can justify switching airlines. Is it any wonder that my World Perks number ends in Satan's number, 666?

Basically, I have a round-trip ticket anywhere in the US that I need to book by June 21st. Then they were all, "your flight needs to be for a date that is 330 days after June 21st at the absolute most." So that kind of ruins the early-August-trip-to-Boston idea I had in mind. So I guess what I'm saying is... Now I need to, like, have real Spring Break plans next year. Raise your hand if your spring break goes from March 14th to March 22nd next year and you want to take a vacation to somewhere that is not the state of Florida, please and thank you!

Questions: Why is it one hundred dollars cheapter to fly Milwaukee to San Francisco than it is to fly Milwaukee to San Diego (not that this matters because I'm paying in miles)? Also, why the hell would it be cheaper for me to fly Milwaukee-Detroit-Minneapolis-San Francisco than it would for me to fly Milwaukee-Minneapolis-San Francisco? Sometimes I begin to think that Schultz is right about this idea of a national socialized airline, and then I remember that would actually not be an improvement at all.

This website makes me want to cry because that is how idiotic it makes me feel. Now I can't figure out if we were paid in vouchers or miles for the horrifying debacle that was our last flight with them, and I sincerely hope it was in miles because I do not want to have to take two more round-trip flights with these clowns.

That said, this weekend has been completely ridiculous and outstandingly fun. I don't know where to start and I don't even want to implicate anyone in actually having said anything that was said because it is moderately mortifying. Especially for whoever said, "I could totally birth a shooter marble, but probably not one of the regular little ones." I mean, really, who does that? I guess it wasn't as bad as the person who made up a song about not being a fan of mushrooms (to the tune of the mushroom man song) while being in public, though. And, actually, even if I tried to explain it, it probably wouldn't translate well.

Also, my family is completely unruly. On Sunday, I was mocked and ridiculed for making everyone get up for church in a timely fashion. Oh, okay, I didn't know that wasn't the Sunday norm for us anymore. That's cool, though, because apparently my ability to mock others is also no longer one.

If this website could stop making me feel like I'm not worthy of opposable thumbs, that would be really awesome. Grrrrrrr. I'm going to go read a book now because I need to do things I actually like to make up for this online excursion.

"maybe it was just me."

Last night, Anya got to experience the fun that is Friday night DVR-cleaning with my family and discovered that we make the weirdest comments ever. We watched the American Idol finale, and, wow, did we give Donna Summer's weave the run-around.
Me: It really looks like something died on her head.
Anya: I want to jump through the TV and brush her bangs. Did she sleep in it?
Sheebs: She looks like she's still asleep! I want to jump through the TV and open her eyelids!
Craig: Did you guys see George Michael and Ryan Seacrest? (This was, like, 75% of his comments for the night. And then the gay-vibes were totally all in his head.)

Friday was my last real, non-exam day of high school, and it pretty much went down exactly as you'd expect it to. Crackin' some Republican skulls, minor misdemeanors sanctioned by the administration, carbo-loading and disappointing mashed potatoes, making obscene hand gestures at Megan, random conversations, busy work, being so ready for college. I'm not too sad, as I'm fairly certain that I can continue the parts of that description that bring me enjoyment throughout the course of my life.

You know what I'm almost as excited for as I am for college? The release of the new David Sedaris book. June 3rd!!! That is so exciting that I used excessive exclamation points, and I don't think I've done that in years.

it's you, why's it always you?

So, I really enjoy the Facebook Bumper Sticker application, if only because Diana's choice of stickers clearly depict our deep understanding of each other's insanity. Although I lost my "I purposely create awkward moments because I think it's funny" one, and that is sad, because that is truly the hallmark of my personality. I would say the same for Alex, but I need to stop being pissed off at her for beating me to all the ones I was going to send her first.

Last night was devoured by Wii Fit and a Jon and Kate Plus Eight marathon. This is the sad, sad life of a second-semester senior who has very few actual exams, and I feel as though I must cover each in a separate paragraph, because, well, theme statements, paragraphs, I'm writing this instead of my paper on innocence and experience in The Tempest, whatever whatever. (And, honestly, I have the whole thing outlined so now I really just have to find other people's words to supplement this, and I still have a week to do that, so... leave it alone.)

First of all, Wii Fit is really fun and it lets you do yoga. However, it is also kind of critical of me. It loves to tell me to stop fidgeting and once asked if I had a small dog on the balance board with me and told me that if I did, I should hold it and move it to a different locality. It also loves telling me how weak my muscles are, and the scale is obviously incorrect because it thinks I weigh 58 pounds and have a BMI of 10.4. Obviously false. But it is the kind of video game that makes me feel less bad about things like... having pasta and smores-flavored Chewy bars for after-school snacks.

Anyway, I have never really watched Jon and Kate Plus Eight before, but that did not stop me from watching many, many episodes of it last night. Those kids are hilarious. I think it's also good that there are eight of them, because it prevents any desire I would have to steal them. And, because I didn't want to stay up all night watching it, I made my mom get out of bed to put two more hours of it on the DVR, so I get to watch it again tonight. Score.

How creepy of a stress ball is this? Admittedly, I have my fear-of-marine-life thing going on, but, still, this is creepy, right?
It gets even weirder when you squeeze it. And you can only get one eye to inflate at a time, in case you were wondering. I don't even know.

because you never show it, you always get your way.

This day has so many perfect examples of the lengths I am willing to take to avoid any post-graduation encounters with anything I didn't like about high school.

Today my nails went deranged and all started falling off and being all hangnail-y. Which was fine, because I thought I had a nail file, but then I didn't. When I was at my grandparents' house, trying not to develop an ulcer during the course of the short political debate my grandfather and I had, I decided that my grandmother would probably have a nail file. She did give me one, only it's one of the old-style metal kind (it used to belong to one of my deceased relatives, apparently) and it is not very effective and leaves behind a slight blue tint. Oh, well. I suppose this is made up for with her story about how she ate six peanut butter cookies yesterday.

In other family news, my brother asked me to proofread his English paper today, then got pissed when I explained that he had to completely restructure it. I explained in great detail how he should do this, and it's really just a lot of cut-and-paste, so it wasn't like I said, "This is shitty, fix it" and left him high and dry. So I'm not really sure what part of getting an A he's all pissed off about, as his content is good and he really just needs to refocus it, then rein in the random-ass comma usage.

Last night, Alex, Brigid, Vicky, and I went to the lacrosse game. Vicky has a freshly-broken arm and so her blood consisted largely of Vicodin, which led to much hilarity. It was senior parents' night, so as all the parents walked off the bleachers to join their kids on the field, she yelled, "HEY, senior parents!" And they all looked up at her, so she goes, in a far more shy yell, "I probably know your kid!"

Why am I such a sucker for music with violins in the background? I keep listening to Coldplay's new song, "Viva la Vida," on repeat, probably because it reminds me of one of the numerous other songs with violins that I love. The classic example of this would probably have to be "Bittersweet Symphony" by the Verve, but, more recently, "Any Other World" by Mika (and the fact that I kept playing its introduction repeatedly) also exemplifies this well. Maybe someday I can force one of my children into studying the violin.

Here is a classic moment from political science class in the journalism lab, which has a door that leads to the library. Schultz is sitting at the teacher-desk and we are discussing William McKinley and how pissed he is at Alex for not knowing that Polk and Coolidge were presidents. Anyway, Cody, an incredibly notable character in the class of 2008, is lurking in the glass pane of the door without blinking and with his mouth wide open.
Me: Schultz, Cody is creeping in the door behind you.
Schultz: Well, I would not expect anything less.
Cody comes into the room with no clear objective, and he is wearing some kind of jersey that reads "Kewaunee" on it despite the fact that it is college shirt day.
Jake: Cody, Kewaunee is not a college.
Schultz: Yes, it is. It's an extension school. UW-Kewaunee, your credits will transfer to any four-year UW! Oh, wait, maybe it's a charter school. (Laughs at his own jokes, per usual, then suddenly, all sternly:) Cody, get out of here.

Speaking of crazy man stories... tonight I went to put gas in my car and the guy at the pump next to me was obviously positioning himself so that his muscles were flexed while he was waiting for his tank to fill and I laughed for quite some time after he drove away.

All the transitions between paragraphs in this entry are completely and totally not real.

tell her that i just can't go on

So, I am currently making my list of things I need before I go to college. And because certain individuals--Sheebs, I am looking at you with my keyboard instead of my eyes--get all pissed off when all I put on wish lists are books and sweaters, I went on the SNC website to figure out what I might need that I am forgetting and had some moments of great entertainment in the process.

-There is an entire section of the student handbook about how pepper spray is not "for play." With "play" in quotation marks. Really, because I think pepper spray fights are a grand idea; I don't know about you. This reminds me of the sign that said Service Station "Warning" and was all about not smoking near gasoline pumps. Because spontaneous combustion is secretly just a really funny joke?

-The "what to bring" list includes "identification." If you can't figure out to bring ID with you when you go to college, you're probably not cut out for life away from your parents.

-"Do NOT bring: aquariums larger than 10 gal." No aquariums, period, seems like a way better rule.

Different topic. My political science presidential campaign imploded on itself a little bit today. Oh, well. I will just point out that I am not fit for any sort of candidacy for two reasons:
1. I have an awful speaking voice. I don't know how anyone tolerates it.
2. I constantly fidget. And it's not that I'm an overly anxious person. But maybe I have to constantly jiggle my foot and push my hair behind my ears and rip my cuticles away from my nail beds and crack my knuckles so that I can stay relaxed.

On Saturday, Diana and Alex and I were talking about what we wish our super-powers could be.
Me: I would want to be invisible and be able to go through walls and discover confidential information. Or, even better, I wish I could look at someone and instantly know their life story. That would be so awesome.
Alex: That would be sweet. I would want people to look at me and see me doing stupid stuff but still know that I am, like... a human and that I have friends.
Diana: So your super-power would be to have other people watch you?

there is nothing that competes with anger

So, this was a ridiculous weekend. I know I say that about every weekend, but, truly, this might be the crowning one. I think if I tell you that we played Marry/Bang/Kill and that one of the rounds was "T. rex, triceratops, pterodactyl", that will help you understand. Also, the fact that during that round, "I would definitely want to bang a velociraptor out of all the dinosaurs." "I would want to bang a brontosaurus... They're big." was a not-even-close-to-serious conversation that took place. My friends and I don't drink either, ergo, we have no excuse for this kind of behavior.

I finished Lolita and now I'm moving on to Reading Lolita in Tehran, just because it felt appropriate, and I'm telling you all to read it. I've only been reading it for 20 minutes and I'm already loving it. Maybe I just like it because it confirms my desire to do nothing but "read and write and talk about reading and writing for the rest of my life," as I described my goals to Diana when we were swinging in public parks at unsavory hours on Saturday night. I just feel like it's coming at the right time, when this part of my life is shutting itself down and I'm preparing myself to begin the rest of it. Wow, deep philosophical thought, Kel.

Speaking of deep philosophical thoughts, Aimee Mann voices all of mine so well. I guess I've moved on from the 90s alterna-rock, then.

Anyway, The Office finale was completely amazing on so many levels. It may have even made up for the inconsistency of this season. And DVR is bad news bears for me because it has made me addicted to so many TV shows I never had the time to watch before, and that is a problem. But I am now in love with House, only after everyone told me I need to start watching it 450 different times. I have decided that my ideal husband is a cross between Wilson and Atticus Finch. How awesome would that be?

take me to the place i love. take me all the way.

Maybe this is just a subconscious clinging-to-childhood type of thing, but I am really digging the rock bands that peaked in the 90s lately. It reminds me of summers when I was a kid, when my mom got so tired of us calling her every fifteen minutes that she would just bring us to her office as punishment, and she listened to this stuff on the radio the whole time she was at work. I hated it at the time, and I wished she would just listen to A*Teens, because I was too stupid to know about ABBA. But, anyway. I've been listening to a really obscene amount of Red Hot Chili Peppers, Smashing Pumpkins, Verve Pipe, and Goo Goo Dolls lately, and it's been bringing me an obscene amount of joy.

That said, I am so not clinging to anything from the past, or even any of the present right now. Today we had our last lovely NDA all-school liturgy, and we got to turn around and be blessed with Heil Hitler hand gestures-- note: I don't think they're supposed to look like this, but they do when awkward teenage boys do it-- like every senior class gets to do at every last senior mass, and I could not stop smiling. I am so ready to be sent on my merry way.

Then we had cap and gown distribution at lunch, followed by the extravagance that is the senior class picture during 7th hour. I feel like this must be recapped, because it is just one of those quintessential NDA things. Therefore, it shall be done in list format:

1. First of all, the armpit seams of my graduation gown are practically at my hips. It's really unfortunate. Also, Perky thought it would be hilarious to point out my resemblence to Hermione Granger in said gown. And then he repeatedly pointed at locked doors and asked me if I could use my wand to unlock them for the entire duration of the walk to the gym, and other such "comical" jokes. Thank you, Perky.

2. More entertainment from the mind of Perky, shouted just before the first picture was taken: "Wait-- stop! Where's Ricky?" (Ricky was a classic character of the class of 2008 whose destiny, unfortunately, did not entail him graduating with us.) Best part of this comment: Perky is not a hooligan, and everyone just assumed the comment would come from some hooligan, so his ownership of it went unnoticed.

3. Several sundry characters in the back of the picture and their adhesive mustaches.
Photography Man with Massive Mustache: Would the guy with the red hair in the back please remove his mustache?
"The Guy with the Red Hair": No, you take yours off first!

4. Despite any attempts to hamper the mustache-wearing of these individuals, a mustache ended up in every picture. Score.

5. Diana and I, on our way out of the building, deeply sarcastic: Sorry we wore mustaches in the picture, Schultz.
Schultz, with deeper sarcasm than ours: Oh, yes. You are in trouble. (Shakes his fist at us.)

6. "Stop that! I caught you! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"
Nobody laughed at that but Diana and I, but I am putting it on there anyway.

Then Schultz let us leave school even though seventh hour wasn't finished because he is by far the least real of our many not-real authority figures. All in all, a pretty good fake momentous school day in the life of a senior.

the more you change, the less you feel

Today, the freshmen put a hole in the ceiling of the science wing. This story was summed up for our physics class in two sentences: "Yeah, the freshmen put a hole in the ceiling, because none of us were in our classrooms this morning. I guess they get all rowdy when they're unsupervised."

Speaking of freshman-ness, Anna and I are pumped to be freshmen, and our conversations about how badly we want college are maybe the best thing going right now. Also, Anna's bold comments about certain other people always make my day, and these conversations are full of those.

Anyway, you know what amazes me? How unaware people really can be. It makes me wonder if I am that unaware of my social surroundings. Then I remember that I am hyper-observant and could use a little less social analysis in my brain. However, it still makes me concerned that my actions and the actions of others who I understand quite well can be so easily misconstrued when they are actually so unbelievably obvious.

This entry is so serious. So I'm going to tell you about Alex's twenty-slide Power Point presentation she has to make for Computer Literacy and Applications. Although she eventually decided upon "There's No Wrong Way to Eat a Reese's", there were many entertaining suggestions leading up to it, including:
-Top 20 Jim Halpert Pranks
-Candies That Never Should Have Been Made ("Nerds Rope is totally just candy-covered tapeworm.")
-People who Never Should Have Been Born
-Ugliest People/Animals/Dogs
-20 Different Slang Terms for Semen
-Urban Dictionary... With Pictures

when you forget how to talk, i sing

Open questions for my computer:
1. Why do important things I need for school that I do not have backup copies of taste so damn good to you and your insatiable appetite?
2. What happened to your spell-check feature?!
3. When am I getting my laptop which is so much nicer than you?!?!

Open questions for the people with whom I share a home:
1. Who the hell killed that enormous winged insect and then left it in the bottom of the sink?
2. Is it really that hard to get a new roll of toilet paper when you use the end of the current one?

Anyway, all things considered, I am actually pretty chill about all this, even though I have to rewrite everything I previously had written about No Child Left Behind. Blurgh. I'm going to go read books and be a big nerd now.

all i want is inner peace

So, the three-to-five minute speech I have to audition with tomorrow is actually only 2 minutes and 20 seconds long... Oops. (Although I would have made it longer if I played by everyone else's rules and used the deadline as a mere suggestion, blarg.) I also have to write two speeches for my presidential campaign to present tomorrow in poli sci. All that "this week has to be better than the last" bullshit is swimming down the drain pretty quickly. I hate public speaking because I really prefer just babbling about whatever my mind compels me to babble about. As I do in this blog.


Lolita is a really good book. If you are like me and enjoy thinking about the way crazy people's minds work, you'd probably enjoy this a lot. It is a little stream-of-consciousness-y at times, but I hardly notice because I am reading Intruder in the Dust, aka William Faulkner's Unfiltered Thoughts on Race Relations with a Little Bit of Plot Thrown In, for English class right now. Enjoying it, but, still, it's not an overwhelmingly simple book to read.

This weekend is my accidental bonus weekend with my mom. We're pretty excited. And I'm really only writing this to remind myself to rent The Savages this weekend because I keep forgetting. This is also good news because my brother bought Mario Kart for the Wii this weekend. It is really sweet. Unfortunately, I am truly awful at driving my little Mario Kart vehicle using the Wii remote. Like, worse than I am at most video games, which is really bad to begin with, so yeah.

Today I skipped French class to hang out with my favorite counselor in Student Services, who advised me on many things, like what random-ass electives I should take at SNC, and that I need to find a way to make money off this blog. Unfortunately, I picked a terrible day to skip French, because it was not our usual nothing but rather one of the epic debates we have approximately once a month. Damn.

indeed. this is bad-ass.

It turns out I actually don't have very much to say about prom. Except that it does sadden me that I had such a lame senior prom, even though I know I will be over that in about a week. Plus, Julie told me all about how she was incredibly sick during one of her class reunions and cried because of it and had to leave, so that made me feel better about being such an emotional whiny lame-ass. Since when do I have feelings? I don't like this new development, and I hope it wraps itself up soon.

Today I went to the library to pick up a copy of Lolita because Natasha and I are starting a Russian Literature Book Club because we are cool that way. Anyway, one of my neighbors at my dad's house was my librarian, which was pleasant until she goes, "So, are you with your mom or your dad tonight?" Please note I haven't had a real conversation with this woman for about three years, long before my parents were ever divorced. Please also note how freaking awkward of a conversational interlude that is. Couldn't you ask me how school is going or what I want to be when I grow up or something normal and boring like that?

Anyway. The Russian Lit Book Club is actually part of the summer project that I am commencing now that I took AP exams and now that I know I totally owned my English research paper. This project is called Summer Reading, my favorite thing of all time, and you all need to help me compile a list that is going to make me a sweet English major next year. So comment with books you think I should read. This is such a huge project that Mrs. Brown is e-mailing me a list of all the recommendable books she's read in the past year; that is how awesome and broad in scope it is.

Speaking of that English paper, I got the most ridiculous feedback ever. "Interesting topic"? "Interesting content"?! Are you kidding me? "Excellent title"? Um, no. "Perfect outline"? That is not actually a necessary thing to comment on. Oh, Gilsdorf, I will miss your crazy so much next year, and also be eternally grateful for the fantastically grad-school worthy GPA with which your class has allowed me to begin college.

Anyway, clearly this return to nerdiness marks a sharp increase in my health. I should probably leave you with a crazy Sheebs thought, so here you go: "I shouldn't think and talk at the same time. I am too stupid to do two things at once."

and bury the need to prove

Well, I learned a lot about myself the past few days.
1. The side effect of never being sick: I get the crazy mutant strains of viruses when I do. And I also am the world's worst sick person.
2. I hate it when I have to make decisions.
3. I am incredibly awkward.

Yes, kids, that's right. I managed to have some horrible variety of head cold for my senior prom. And it sucked. It sucked HARD.

I promise longer and funnier and less whiny entries when I feel better, but right now I have to engage in an Indiana Jones marathon in celebration of Mother's Day.

religion should appeal to the hearts of the young

My hair is now infinitely better after my amazing hairdresser came to the rescue. I cannot even describe what a marked improvement this is. The nearly two hours it took to fix the damn thing was totally worth it.

Anyway, I have a confession to make: I completely abused my own power today. It's a really long story, but it's a good one. Maybe we will save it for another day. Except for this conversation:
"I really think you should go up there and talk to him."
"I really don't feel like doing that."
"It would be funny if you did... Hilarious, even."
"Okay, FINE. But only because I like you. I am not doing this for him."
"We don't care what your intentions are, we just care that you're doing it. Things are getting out of hand up there. Reed just threatened to lay his life down for the sake of the substitute's subbing career."

My mom called me six times while I was out to dinner tonight because she was concerned that I possibly had died. Do you remember that time when someone didn't pick up their cell phone for an hour and they managed not to be kidnapped or dead? Yeah, me too.

Anna: Diana, can you do me a huge favor?
Diana: Sure, what is it?
Anna: Can you drop me off at Titletown instead of at the Y?
Diana: Yeah, but that's not really a huge favor. A huge favor would be, like...
Anna: Like, will you be my surrogate mother?
Diana: Yep, pretty much.

does he drive you wild or just mildly free?

Damn, my Party Shuffle is loving the sad songs. "The Trapeze Swinger" by Iron and Wine (I know, two days in a row) and "Accidental Babies" by Damien Rice are probably two of the saddest songs I have ever heard. Where do you get off being so depressing, music? Seriously?

it's so nice to make fun of everything that i've lost

Well, today has been quite a day, with many lessons learned. The most notable lesson would probably be "take caution when asking a twin to prom", but secondarily would be my lesson of "don't let your deranged mom color your hair." Although I can un-do my lesson at a squeezed-in 3:45 appointment with a licensed, sober professional on Wednesday afternoon. That other one is more permanent, but also more entertaining.

Anyway. My first AP exam was this morning, and I was the only kid. (Not far off from my stepdad's estimated count of me "and two Asian nerds.") So it was just me and a proctor, hanging out in a conference room in the Green Bay Public Schools' District Office. Then the superintendent accosted me during my hallway break and I learned that he is only about two inches taller than me. That was an unexpected surprise.

Song recommendation, thanks to my newly-shuffly iTunes Party Shuffle: "On Your Wings" by Iron and Wine. Or, you know, really anything by Iron and Wine.

This afternoonish I received a really fancy and serious-looking housing envelope from SNC. I was expecting it to be formal notification of my room in the worst dorm building ever (I confused the two that start with B, and I put the wrong one down as my first choice. Oops.) But it was not. It was telling me that I need extra-long bedding, and that I should really buy extra-long bedding from this one specific company. I wish I could choose if I wanted an extra-long bed or a normal sized one, because, really, I am 5'2". That extra space is just minimizing space in my shoebox of a dorm.

Just a second. I'm going to go microwave spaghetti... happy Cinco de Mayo there, I guess?

"priest, prophet, and king": al's standards for a husband

This weekend was ridiculous on so many levels, largely due to senseless things which come out of Alex's mouth.

Right now I am so burned out from AP Politics and Government studying. I just need to get a 3, why am I working so hard?! Seriously, you have no idea how boringly Congressional committees are formed. This test corresponds in absolutely no manner to the political science class I'm taking right now... it would if I could earn four college credits for testing well on subjects ranging from stories from The Onion to Baby Schultz stories, but, alas, that is not the way the College Board works.

I am breaking in my prom shoes right now. Not really fun at all. Why are my arches so high? Seriously. Also, why is Text Twist such a fun game?

"i agree, but that doesn't change the fact that i wish to pass on from this life."

Last night was a stellar Kellie/Sheebs/Amers/Annie/Joey/Hannah night, one to end all nights. Annie thought she was going to die on four separate occasions. I can't even keep track of all the ridiculousness, and most of it is just inappropriate for conversation with actual human beings.

Entertaining conversation from a really long time ago:
Diana: [blah blah blah something about domination and submission]
Anna and I: What are you talking about?
Diana: I'm sorry. I can't help it. I watched The Dog Whisperer earlier today.

I only showed up to one class today. But it's okay, because my "authority" figures just think it's funny and are amused by the fact that I even bothered to show up for the one. (I also did take a quiz during my empty eighth hour, and I went to my most studious class, so I accomplished all I would have accomplished in school anyway.)

the sun set on this town only an hour ago

I am so exhausted of the task of parenting my brother. Seriously, teenage boys at this age are just ridiculous on so many levels, especially my brother, for whom simple tasks such as cleanliness, communication, doing homework instead of playing video games so you don't flunk school, and attentiveness are far too complex. I'm sending any sons that wish to be born to me to military boarding school from the point they hit puberty until their high school graduations. And that is only a slight exaggeration. It is completely understandable that my mom is consistently on the verge of stabbing somebody.

The other day, she and I were in Barnes and Noble and she looked at an endcap of parenting books and gave the largest, most dramatic sigh that has ever come from her lungs.
Sheebs: Maybe I should get a book on parenting teenagers.
Me: Teenage boys or teenage girls or both?
Sheebs: Teenage boys... I didn't say I needed to find a book called "How to Parent Your 36-Year-Old," did I?

He is pacing around the yard picking up pieces of hay right now. Awesome. Good thing the neighbors already know we're fucking crazy thanks to my parents' failed attempt at a little custody arrangement we like to call "Bird-Nesting." (I was telling someone who also has divorced parents about that the other day, and he said, "How is that real!? How are you even a well-adjusted human being?!")

Schultz: This project is worth 1,000 points.
Barry: That is 200 current events.
Me: Can I do 200 current events instead of the project?
Schultz, ragefully: NO!
[Because Barry and I did not annoy him enough by mentioning NAMBLA numerous times yesterday?]

In other Schultz news:
Schultz: Aren't you two supposed to be going home?
Diana: I am ignoring you right now.
Me: If we stay here and talk, does [teacher whose room we were in front of] get pissed at you?
Schultz: Yes... No. You guys will understand someday.
Diana: Oh, when we are grown-ups?
Me: Nope, when we are Deans of Students, we will understand.

uplifting thoughts to start the day

You know who I am definitely not? A morning person. It's not like I sleep in until the late hours of the afternoon, because I get up at reasonable hours. It's just that it takes me a good two hours and a gallon of caffeinated drink to be cognizant.

And you know who I definitely hate when I'm in this state? MORNING PEOPLE. Seriously, what the FUCK is wrong with them? They're all about being chipper and making noise but I just want to be owly and alone in peace. And they talk so loudly. (If I think this now, what will I think if I am ever ailed by a serious hangover?) And they move around so often. And they're just ridiculous and RAWR. I don't even have words for it. You know why? Because it's SEVEN TWENTY IN THE MORNING.

Anyway. It is my dog's 8th birthday today. Oh, Hayley. Maybe someone can give you sanity as a present.