What are you doing New Years?

I'm attending a snow war at the beach. It should be extremely fun, and freezing, but mostly fun.

2009 is coming to a close. It's almost hard to imagine. Well, not really. What's really difficult is to create some sort of artificial milestone out of it. I mean, really, in the scheme of things, what happened in 2009? I feel as if the year has barely started, but it's already drawing to a close.

I know that things did happen last year. I mean, I went from one stupidly overwhelming crush to a different stupidly overwhelming crush. If that's not monumental, I don't know what is. I did extremely well in school my sophomore year. I wrote a provisional patent and filed it. I'm fairly certain I made friends, although it feels as if I've known everybody forever, so it's difficult to sort them out. It feels, all in all, however, entirely unmonumental. Here I am, sweet sixteen, and not a hell of a lot is going on. I mean, there are things, but it feels as if all of my energy is directed to this great, glorious future I'm hurtling towards, a future that will probably consist of long nights in the lab for absurdly low pay, but also hopefully lots of amazing geeky friends, and enough science that I have to keep the doors open at all times so that the science doesn't overflow and explode.

I think that should be my life goal, actually. Become enough of a scientific presence that if I'm shut in a closed room the science spontaneously combusts.

Good plan.

Home Is Where the Boredom Sets In

The funny thing about being at home all day is that one really doesn't do anything interesting enough to blog about. The most exciting thing I've done thus far is buy a new pair of pants which I fear may become permanently attached to my derriere, seeing as they're so warm and comfy that I can't bare to take them off.

That bare above is actually supposed to be bear, but I was making a pun/homonym that is somewhat funny. And weakly supported. And not really that funny. At least it's in English, though. Homonym-like code structures in perl are easily the stupidest thing I've ever heard of (although, dear, dear, beloved coding language, I say this only because you are too intricate and complex for my wee little human mind to handle, and I mean no offense. Well, I can mostly handle it. I'm having an easier time with perl than I am with my TI-89.).

That is a long enough parenthetical that I should probably just add it into the text, but I'm really not in the mood.

Facebook Reminders

Facebook has determined that nobody should have to w(h)ile (I looked it up, the h is optional) away the hours on their own homepage without being contacted. I believe that the primary motivation is to keep friendless emo children from becoming bitter and offing themselves.

It has apparently decided that Mario is "at risk." Well, it's either that or it's realized that I've looked at his profile far more often than I've actually written anything to him, but I don't think it's designed to do that. I mean, I don't facebook stalk my parents or my cousin, and they still show up as being poor little lonely people every so often. That's never with the tenacity of this suggestion though.

It's been going on for two days, every single time I open up my facebook. Reconnect with him. Send him a message. Share the latest news. Say hello. Write on his Wall.

Because a frequent reminder of him is exactly what I need.

I eventually got so sick of this that I switched to English (Pirate), so at least the reminders are more entertaining. Divvy spoils with yer friend. Scrawl on pirate's Plank. Send a parrot to squawk at him. Keep ye eye on th' sea dog. Greet the land-lubber. Trade pirate stories o' the seven seas.

It's a shame that facebook can't remember if Mario is a land-lubber or a pirate.

Twelve Months of Tea

This is blatantly ripped off from Dr. Jay, who stole it from Dr. Isis. It is the first post of each month of the year, accompanied by the first sentence of the post and the first comment on it.

January: I apologize for never writing and rave about my love of Girl Overboard.

Well, would you look at that. I haven't written in a very, very, very long time.

------I was still blogging anonymously, so there are no comments on this post.

February: I read A Thousand Splendid Suns and experience emotional overload.

I forget, sometimes, what finishing a good book will do to you.

------Ditto.

March: I attempt to teach my younger sisters to notice sexism in advertising.

There's gonna be snow tomorrow, and I, for one, am psyched.

------Do I need to write anything?

April: We are introduced to the perversions of Nyx's chemistry class.

Two tenth graders in science class today.

May: I introduce myself to the communications medium of texting.

The rest of the dream makes even less sense than the first half, so I think I won't bother with it.

------Vicky: HAHAHA your conversation with mario is really funny.... Question though: why would you possibly tell Mario that your random friend from camp types fast?? I can just see that scene: Mario sitting peacefully reading the WSJ, you texting away then you blurt out: Hey Mario, my camp friend can type fast!!

June: I blow off studying and my U.S. portfolio in order to make lots and lots of schedule permutations.

The massive tree chart at left is what I used to make certain that I had accurately determined all of my possible schedule options (I had, and they are included at the bottom of this post).

------Vicky: OMG teaaaaa.....I can't believe you did that!! usually I just randomly make like 9 scheds a couple days before arena!! that's sooo cool, would you make one for me??

July: I get lost at the train station.

I am back in my home, sweet home, and I am oh so very happy.

------Vicky: OMG TEA!!!!!! I was at the YMCA (on main street) because my brother was working out there (yea, I know Gretch, someone in my family does actually exercise!) and I went over to the snack machine to get a snack. The snack machine's background/casing was made with 5 or so pictures of kids playing sports at the Y. AND guess whose picture was big (like 3 feet tall 2 feet wide) and front and centered? MARIO'S!!! I was like OMG! it's mario and my mom was like who? and I was like "this boy Tea know" and my mom said "why would Tea know an 11 year old (it was a younger pic but it was unmistakably Mario!) and I was like "he's 15 or 16 now...." anyway, I just thought you'd want to know that there is a picture of your lover emblazoned on the TMCA food machine...(not just like a picture taped on, his image was actually part of the machine!!!) your most faithful mario spy, vicky/bruney.

August: A detailed description of plumbing issues in my house.

The plumbing in my bathroom, my sisters' bathrooms, the living room powder room and basement is out. Although my dad has not yet determined why, we still aren't allowed to so much as wash our faces in this half of the house.

------Gretchen: hmmm...not sure what to say...

September: I recount my first day of school.

Guess what, everybody- I survived.

------Gretchen: yeah, my day was okay until english. i sat in the front and i didn't see nyx for some reason. i was all alone... :( i'm going to see her in the morning tomorrow. still hoping...

October: I gush about science.

The math team advisor who is known to call the house at odd hours just called and informed that I'm on the A-team for the meet next week.

------Gretchen: noooo mrs. cumulonimbus didn't flag down Irving!!! we did. well holly did. we were in the library and cumulonimbus had alread yleft! holly was just like "irving! can you come over here for a second?" after he left we found out that she didn't actually know him. of course mrs. cumulonimbus knows Irving!! she's the only one who teaches physics C

November: Halloween is detailed.

I haven't posted for the past two days because I didn't get home until after midnight, at which point I figured there really wasn't much point, since it was actually tomorrow.

------Gretchen: what pants were you wearing?

December: I freak about Mrs. Hirten's group assignments.

The first day of class, she thought that Edmund and I were twins.

------Gretchen: i am so sorry for you. if it gets worse, feel free to come running into my english class

Days for Dreaming

Last night was the second in a row that was full of oddly vivid dreams. I'm still trying to figure out what, if anything, they mean.

Dream 1:

I walked into Spanish class, late, per usual. Gretchen was already there. There were laptops from the cows on all of the desks, and Tom sat behind me in Rae's desk, which I find strange, since I'd never noticed that he was in our class. I shrugged it off and logged into facebook on my laptop (which should have tipped me off that this was a dream, but, alas, it did not). I went to Tom's page, because I couldn't figure out why he had spontaneously showed up in my Spanish class. I started flipping through his profile pictures, and for some reason, I had the ability to change which photo was his profile picture, so I did. Then Gretchen started coughing violently and gesturing towards Tom, who could see over my shoulder at my screen and had turned bright red. I turned around to apologize, and his eyes got all huge and he looked the way he did in fifth grade that time he told my my braces looked nice, which is really the only old memory I have of him. The bell rang and Gretchen and I left class. I was still flipping out about what Tom thought of me.

I went up to physics on the third floor. The only faces I can remember are those of Tybalt, Genevieve (British, not in my physics class or any A.P. English) and Leda (in my gov class, used to be going to counties with Sergio but now has a boyfriend). Right before class ended, Tybalt kissed Leda and then confessed to having a massive crush on Genevieve.

We left class, and Tybalt, Gretchen and I were suddenly walking out of the cafeteria into the music wing. We all realized that we were going to miss our buses. Tybalt and Gretchen took off, speed demons that they are, and I tried to keep up, but these large crowds of Players and Orphenians, fully costumed, kept getting in my way. By the time I reached the orchestra room, Tybalt was long gone, and Gretchen had emerged out of the farther door and taken off running. By the time I reached the front entrance, I was the only one there, and the buses were gone.

End Dream 1.

Dream 2 is weirder. Much, much weirder. I promise you, it is nowhere near as inappropriate as the beginning makes it sound.

Dream 2:

Harry and I were both doing pit orchestra for Little Shop of Horrors, and for some reason still unknown to me, this entailed him staying in my room. I woke up in the morning and he was in the other bed and I started flipping out because I thought that I'd forgotten and gone to sleep naked for some reason. I stood up out of bed, panicked, but discovered that I was wearing cute green pj pants and a blue tank. However, the tank was kind of see through, so I decided I needed a different one. A newer, brighter blue tank top with conveniently built in bra was located on the foot of my bed, where I had presumably dumped it at some earlier time. After I took off the first tank top to swap, I looked into the TV on wheels like they had at the middle school that had been set up where my keyboard usually lives. I could say Harry reflected in it, standing behind me, frozen in place and staring at my reflection in the TV. He had slept in the same clothes that he always wears, a white t-shirt and somewhat too-short cargo pants. He decided that if I was changing, he should to, and by the time I had my arms lined up in the second tank, he'd swapped from a plain white t-shirt to one with these blueish glowing peacock feathers on it.

As I was putting on the second tank top, it turned into a dress and I got stuck, the entire skirt of the dress facing upside down around my head like a pathetically limp dog cone. I attempted to maneuver myself into it, but was unsuccessful. "Harry? Could you, uh, help?" I asked.

"Yeah, sure," he said, and pulled the tank down over my arms and torso. He didn't let go of my wrists. I looked up at him, confused, and his eyes had gone all brownish greenish, and they were swirling in a weirdly hypnotic manner. He said something unintelligible, containing the phrases "can't let go," "God," "Jesus," and something about loving arm muscles, which is absurd, because I hardly even have arm muscles. He started to back away, still clinging to me, and I followed him, entranced. He stopped after a step and leaned forward, closer and closer. When we were about two inches apart, I leaned forward and kissed him, a sloppy sort of first kiss in which all that happens are squished noses and lips pressed together, and for some reason I could feel the imprint of my braces on the inside of my lips, which is absurd, since I haven't had braces in years. I pulled back after an instant, and his eyes had turned pale blue and he looked like he was about to pass out. "Was that nice?" he asked.

"I don't know yet," I answered, and the entire dream shifted. Harry was gone, but I was still standing in my room, and I knew, somehow, that he would be back, and that I just had to kiss him again and we'd get further than that stupid clashing of metal on teeth. I opened the door and walked down the hall to the basement. There was a window that doesn't actually exist, and through it I could see Corbin Bleu's hair as he walked through the jungle that had sprung up behind my house. I had an abrupt fear that the Harry here had turned into Zac Efron, and I was very worried. I decided that I'd have to wait and see and I walked down the stairs. Sparky (Aqua's dog) and Rufus came running up the stairs as I descended. Purdy (she advised Becky to temporarily break up with her boyfriend to show him what was important) was down there. I asked her what I should do about Harry, she said she'd get back to me later, since she had an appointment.

Elaine (Julie's friend who is fond of lolita dresses) came down with a girl who was about ten years old; I assumed the girl was her daughter. The daughter and I tried to play chess, but none of the pieces were actual pieces, so I decided to transfigure them and pulled out my wand to do so. I tapped each in turn, but the bishops stubbornly refused to do anything, and the pawns remained little pieces of trash.

I woke up in a cold sweat, the only thought in my head that I had to find Harry.

Emunction

Before today's Christmas pageant, I sat in the chapel with three of my wonderful cherubs, aged seven and under.

Cherub #1: You just picked your nose!

Cherub #2: Did not.

Cherub #1: Did too.

Cherub #2: No, I didn't. I scratched it!

Cherub #1: You so picked it.

Cherub #2: I did.

Cherub #1: It's okay. I pick my nose too.

Cherub #3: Ewwwwww. That's gross.

Cherub #1: Is not.

Cherub #2: Yeah, it's not.

Tea: Actually, it is. Does anyone need a tissue?

Then, during the actual pageant, a boy in the front row started excavating his left nostril during "Angels We Have Heard on High" and didn't stop until after "The First Noel."

Time for a Breather

Thank god.

I could not have survived one more day of school. I feel so tired, as if all I need is to just sink into bed and never get up again. I know, intellectually, that I should feel better in the morning, but right now that's difficult to comprehend.

I just watched Slumdog Millionaire. I was confused for at least 50% of the movie, but it didn't matter, because whenever I was confused, I just went mmmmmm, Dev Patil, and it was all good.

My family is so high on Christmas spirit that it's insane. Gretchen came over and we made meringues and decorated cookies. It was extremely fun. My parents attempted to extract information from her about guys, such as which of the Vaseline twins is better looking. Gretchen thinks that talking about that sort of thing with any adult is absolutely nuts, but to each their own, I suppose. Or, to be more correct, to each his or her own, but that his or hers thing is so very unwieldy.

Bloody Dino

That git beat me at math team run-offs again. Stupid Dino and his perfect 18. I am infinitely cooler than he is. And at least I don't go around poking people in the head with yard sticks.

Because, really, when I'm trying to do a physics lab, and counting pendulum strings in such an artificially chipper voice that I'm struggling not to laugh, the last thing I want is to be repeatedly jabbed in the back with a yard stick. I would really prefer that Dino keeps all of his sticks well away from me.

Ineffectiveness

I am currently reading chartporn instead of doing homework, because I love me some high density graphics. Sociological Images is also a good procrastination tool. If it feels like I'm learning, then it counts. Right?

Good morning, bloggites

I apologize for three postless days. I have been, unfortunately a bit under the weather. Well, that's kind of a lie- I'm not sick, just so stressed out about my research paper and tests and everything else that writing at all seems like just another drain on my energy. However, now that I'm at it again, I'm beginning to remember that it is, after all, rather fun.

Thursday was a very long time ago, and I can remember nothing that occurred then. I suppose it can't have been all that interesting, but it really is unfortunate just how wonky my memory is. I suppose it's the stress. Oh, wait, it's beginning to come back to me. I spent about an hour on the phone with Caroline helping her with the Utexas for physics. Shelby came over and started yelling at me to help with the dishes, and I went "No! Physics tutoring! Go away!" and, miraculously, she did.

Friday I saw The Princess and the Frog, which is now my favorite movie of all time. I couldn't stop smiling while I watched it. I even smiled while I was crying during a sad bit, but not the sad bit that you're supposed to cry at, so god knows what's up with that. The animations were gorgeous. I love that all of the surroundings look like gorgeous paintings, but the characters are still their classic hand drawn selves. I love the way the handful of little lines on their faces can do so much. The music was wonderful, to top it all off. Another bonus- prince Naveen is very hot. Animated characters have a remarkable tendency to make one swoon.

After going back to Nyx's house, I stayed out past driving curfew playing scrabble with Tybalt and Kathrya (and Nyx, who won, of course). My saving grace with my parents (who got home about ten minutes before I did and promptly flipped out, cause Shelby hadn't left out a note saying where I was) was that I stayed past eleven listening to Kiwi as she told us about how all of those kids our age who are partying and drinking all the time will drop out of college and become bums who hang out at bars in town and show up in the paper's police blotter.

I look forward to it immensely.

A Summary

I'm really enjoying these Christmas UPS deliveries. Yesterday: Staples the Office Supply Superstore. Today: a maple store in Vermont, and something totally unidentifiable for Shelby from Virginia (probably from Kat or May).

As far as my research paper goes, I've written a lot, but I can't figure out how to open it. Anecdotes are always recommended, but how can I utilize one? And besides, they just feel so endlessly cliched. There just doesn't seem to be any other opening conducive to a ridiculously long paper on the education of gifted children.

Speaking of English, a spider has taken up residence in the corner of my bathroom. I wonder how long it will live, and what its web will look like. As long as I remember that it's there, it shouldn't be an issue. Hopefully. After writing an entire paper on the spider in the bathroom in Annie Dillard's essay on Transfiguration, I can't bear to kill it. It seems like a good omen for my writing abilities. Either that or it's a precursor of workaholism (spellcheck approved word). Or a massive amount of religious symbolism is about to be dumped into my life. One of the three.

Doorbell

The doorbell just rang. "Are you expecting anyone?" called Mom.

"No," I said, but I got up and went to the door anyways.

Mom got there first. "It's just the UPS guy."

I caught a glimpse of the box. Cardboard. Red lettering: Staples. I smell my TI-89!

Song to Nick Jonas

By A Middle Schooler Near You (well, Tea after she got out of the shower today, because she was entertaining herself. In the shower. And by entertaining herself, I mean writing bad musical-theater-y songs, not whatever you were thinking of, Kathrya)

(Sung kind of to the tune of "A New World, for some of the bits, and kind of to the tune of Ocean Avenue. No, I don't know why)

Nick Jonas

I love you I love you I lo-o-ove you

Nick Jonas

When you ask me to marry you I'll say I do

Cause you're all that I want

from 3000 to forever

and you're all that I need

when I'm burnin' up this world

It's Nick Jonas forever, with the hair and too tight jeans

my Nick Jonas

I saw you

in concert last month and you almost touched my hand

you smiled

at somebody else but I know it was meant for me

Cause you love me right now

with the heart that you have

and you wish you could be here

and not on your dumb tour

it was Nick and me forever, just the two of us, no more,

Nick Jonas

I think we need to talk

I wrote this song last week

and some things have happened since

I've changed

I've grown

I've moved on with my life

Because, you see, Johnny

Johnny from science class

he has hair that's just like yours

except it flips counter-clockwise, way to the left

And Johnny

with his eyes so blue that the sky gets jealous

told Eric who told Laura who told Darby who told me

that Johnny

Thinks that I'm cute

and it made me kind of excited

So, Nick, you're all that I wanted

from 3000 to forever

but I have grown

you've gotten old

and it's time to move on

Because last week in science class

while he was burning methane gas

Johnny tore his eyes from the flame

and he looked at me and said

"movie? friday?" and I said "what movie?"

and he said "whatever you want."

So on Friday, Johnny and I saw New Moon

and a new light dawned on my life

Nick, dear, I loved you once, but better days have come

I can't marry you now

It's not you, it's me,

There's someone else

You're too distant

My heart now belongs to

Taylor Lautner

It's doesn't quite fit but you're really more cute

Taylor Lautner

You've taken my heart so you'll have to commute

You're all that I want

For today and for forever

You'll hold me close

And ditch Taylor like bad weather

Because Taylor

I lo-o-o-o-o-ove you.

Happy Hanukkah!

Again.

We had the family Hanukkah brunch today. Very exciting. I did get new gloves, a new scarf, and a new shirt out of it though, which isn't a bad haul for a mere brunch.

This is a sharp contrast to the current state of the Christmas decorations. We did the tree on Friday night. At least, I think it was Friday night. It's all a bit of a blur. It must have been the e I was snorting. Or is it coke that you snort? I feel like e is a pill... Regardless, family Christmas tree decoration. Very fun. We all sing Christmas carols and try not to cry over the dead dog and argue over who gets to hang what and then laugh when Mom rearranges everything and then when we're done, we sit cuddled together on the couch for a half an hour with the lights in the room off and the tree all aglow and just watch it and talk about nothing.

It's very wholesome. Happy like an old sitcom, minus the sexism. Happy like The Brady Bunch and Leave it to Beaver.

God we're weird.

I almost forgot the generous bag of gelt, which isn't a word according to spellcheck. Whoever made this dictionary is clearly an anti-Semitic bastard. Yay gelt!

This Week At SHP

I got to the station rather ridiculously early because I had to buy a new ticket, and I really wasn't in the mood to move quickly. I stood around for about seven or eight minutes by myself, growing progressively more worried when no one else showed up. I then texted Melissa and called my house. Neither responded. A couple minutes later, pretty much exactly at the time when the train is supposed to show up, Mario walked out of the station.

"Oh, good," I said, and walked over to him. We exchanged the typical perfunctory greetings. "I was beginning to think I didn't have class."

"Oh." He frowned for a moment. "I dunno. I didn't check."

"I called my Dad, but he didn't pick up. I texted Melissa, also."

"She didn't text back?"

"No. I can only assume that she must be asleep, cause she always has her phone with her."

"Yeah." We looked awkwardly around and try to think of something to say. He put his notebook on the ledge. I took my hat off. He picked his notebook up. I put my hat on. He counted the number of pages in the folder. I looked to the direction the train was coming in. I looked the other direction because the sun was too bright.

"Do you think anyone else is going to show up?" he asked.

"I dunno. I think Archie said he had ACTs."

"Irving never comes."

"Melissa's sleeping."

"I dunno about Ariadne."

"Me neither and oh! that's me!" My purse had begun to play Mozart. I pulled out my phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi. Why'd you call?"

"There wasn't anyone else here so I wasn't sure if I had class."

"What?"

"There wasn't anyone else here so I wasn't sure if I had class."

"I can't understand you."

"There wasn't-"

"What?"

"I wanted you to check the class schedule."

"Oh. Why didn't you say so?"

"Well it's fine now, Mario's here- it's my dad- and so you don't really need to-"

"He probably should. I'm not certain that we have class," said Mario.

"Could you check? It's on the bulletin board and the internet."

"Sure. I'll call you back when I find it. It'll be a couple of minutes. I'm upstairs. I was in the bathroom."

"Great, Dad, thanks." I hung up. "He has to walk downstairs to check," I told Mario.

He nodded.

"Do you know what time it is?"

I've just come to the realization that if I don't stop myself, I could probably easily reiterate the entire days conversation right now. Well, it'd probably take me an hour or two- we definitely spent at least that long talking- but I'm pretty sure I remember all of it. I guess I'll try to give a highlight reel. We spent a good amount of the time, both up and back, doing colleges. I think that since it's a clear, overlapping interest, and Mario's slightly obsessed, it works reasonably well. What's really funny is when I relate his own opinions back at him, using different words, from things he's told me before, and he just nods along in agreement, sure that I came up with it myself, and not that I'm just trying to fill in his words so he doesn't have to strain himself thinking of them. During the cab ride back, he was talking about the repetitiveness of people's college essays and I mentioned that he sounded like he could work in a college admissions office already.

"I know." He paused. "It's kind of pathetic."

I didn't respond. I wasn't really sure how to.

Purity Lost: Female Vampires in Dracula

A synopsis.

Victorian women were well behaved, unlike Vicky (Happy Birthday!) who wears pants. They also were very pure and chaste, eschewing sexual contact (Vicky merely eschews hugs). When "Dracula" was published, these scary things called feminists were beginning to emerge from the shadows. Actually, they weren't called feminists, just "new women," but the basic idea is the same. In "Dracula," all of these semi-feminists are monstrous, bloody vampires. They want to suck your blood.

For instance, Lucy Westerna. Before being vampirized, she's pure and blonde. Afterwards, she is voluptuous and wanton. Wanton, for all concerned, is not pronounced like the delicious segment of Asian cuisine. This is particularly directed at Jeff, who mispronounced it during English the other day. Also, when Lucy has been stabbed through the heart and killed, she is pure and sweet, not a bloody mess, which is nuts, because she should have turned into a relatively decomposed human body.

Also, the other vampire chicks are ridiculous sluts who make Harker into a mess, because, clearly, he can't retain control of his own sexuality because he is a thirteen year old boy, or something.

So vampires=sex=evil! According to Bram Stoker, anywho.

Love, Tea

Bring Out Your Yarmulke

It's almost time to celebrate Hanukkah. I feel like that means that Vicky's birthday is soon. But I'm not positive. My memory is rather spotty, after all.

The one unfortunate aspect of Hannukah is the lack of really good music. Other than Dreidel, Dreidel, Dreidel, we're pretty much screwed. Sen. Orrin Hatch of Utah is trying to stop that. He may be a conservative Mormon from Utah, but he promises, he's Jewish on the inside.

An exact quote from the article: Orrin Hatch of Utah loves Jews, songwriting, and Hanukkah. He also calls Barbara Streisand his idol. I tried to find a link to a song I always hear on PLJ about a jew and a gentile where the Jew says he loves Barbara Streisand.

I have a feeling this reporters personal dislike of Hatch made him/her a wee bit more tongue in cheek than is probably proper.

Fun facts- Hatch worked on the Religious Freedom Restoration Act, which was later struck down by the Supreme Court in a case whose syllabus I read for Government. What a coinkydink!

Also, Hatch tried to create a bill which allowed companies to seize your computer if you were found to possess pirated music or other materials. Very scary.

Anywho, here's Hatch's video, and here's the Adam Sandler Happy Hanukkah song, which I haven't heard yet this season, but really consider a necessity.

Why I avoid beautifying rituals

Today, I was really cold, so Mom recommended that I blow dry my hair. I plugged in the dryer and turned it on, but next to no air came out, so I hit a bunch of buttons on the transformer in the wall, unplugged it, replugged it, and turned it on again.

Then it started smoking. My whole room smelled like burnt hair dryer bits and had to be aired out.

My Saturday Night

Kathrya, your commenting system is down, so I suppose I'll have to use this as my mode of communication.

I spent my Saturday night babysitting for my neighbors, Quincy and Quentin. I studied for physics while we ate dinner, then I went to get out the court cases I had to read for gov, only to discover that I brought the worksheet with me but left the cases at home. My plans for productivity thwarted, I resigned myself to actually socializing with the kids.

Quentin, however, had other plans. He spent somewhere in the range of three to four hours playing Roller Coaster Tycoon 3. I knew that I should have kicked him off the computer, but, really, why you consider the amount of time I spend browsing the internet, it felt hypocritical. Besides, Roller Coaster Tycoon does teach basic economics and physics, which I'm sure is good for him.

Quincy and I spent the entire time watching an iCarly marathon. It involved a lot of bad pranks, crazy siblings, fights among friends, and a ridiculous amount of unsatisfied sexual tension (or whatever it is UST stands for). I mean, seriously, Freddie and Sam kissed in the first episode we saw, then the second one made no mention of it, then in the third one there was a huge fight about said kiss, and then in the next one he kissed Sam's twin sister, who he actually thought was Sam, and then in the entire movie they pretended that the last three episodes hadn't even happened. I mean, seriously, Nickelodeon, if you're going to go to the trouble of creating a massive romantic subplot, you might as well actually include said subplot in your hour long movie!

Not that I enjoyed iCarly at all. I am a mature young adult, oxymoronic though that is. I have more uppity tastes. Like Glee. Which is, like, so much more mature than iCarly. I feel like Kim from Bye Bye Birdie on Friday, a flat chested twelve year old with the characteristic orthodontic lisp, singing about how lovely it is to be a woman, with womanly curves and no more braces.

Okay, so I kind of enjoyed the TV show at least as much as Quincy did. Then, after she went to bed, I left it on the same channel so that I could fast forward the commercials. She wasn't feeling well, so she came back down and caught me watching something involving dancing singing guys who were supposed to be 16 year old JoBro clones, but more closely resembled an aging NSYNC. I believe that I have officially undermined my own authority.

Happy Weekend

As Nia passed me when getting off the bus, she said, "Bye!"

I called up towards her "Have a nice weekend!"

"You too," responded both Nia and the random sophomore who I've actually never talked to.

Genie and I were in hysterics for a good few minutes.

Mrs. Hirten Attempts to Orchestrate Romance

The first day of class, she thought that Edmund and I were twins. Now, however, I fear her thoughts have moved to, shall we say, different areas. When he was late to class today, she looked around the room. "Where is Edmund?" she asked. When no one responded, she looked annoyed. "He could use some work. I think he needs a girlfriend," she finished, and looked directly at me. Then she put us in the same group for the Supreme Court simulation. Please don't, Mrs. Hirten. I beg of you, please disabuse yourself of any notions you've developed.

Also, enjoy the holiday theme. In keeping with the advent, I will probably change it frequently.