On Turning 17

I missed my own birth time this evening. Whoops.

Oh, well. I'm not that distressed. I mean, it's cool to turn a year older, to have another year of memories behind you. It's just, I have this big moment of "growing older many times a year"- when I start the school year, finish the school year, Christmas, New Years, my birthday...it adds up.

This does, however, mark a year from when I decided to start blogging. Well, as I'm sure you're aware, it's not like I actually did, but we can ignore that fact.

I think that's enough musing for a day. Who wants to hear about Mario?

Well, today in science research I went over to the computer right away, with Julie, but the one on the end didn't work, so I switched over her, and ended up sitting between Julie and Mario. On the other side of the bank of computers, her feet propped up on the table next to the printer, sat Krystal.

Aside from asking Mario if he was going to class tomorrow (as of right now, yes, but if anything changes he'll text me) and noting that he got a haircut ("it looks nice." "Thanks.) I mostly stared at my powerpoint and occasionally chattered with Julie about birthdays and Fridays and other information of some interest but not interesting enough to repeat.

At some point, somehow, we got to talking about gym, or being late, or something to the effect of Mario showing up half an hour late for gym this morning.

"Was that actually half an hour?" I asked.

"Yeah, about."

"Remind me again how you still have credit in gym?"

"Oh, all the absences are excused."

"How do you manage that?"

"I woo the woman at the front desk."

"You know Patty?!?" interjected Krystal (assume that all of her dialogue is in all caps with multiple punctuative symbols at the end).

"That's her name?" said Mario.

"I don't understand this whole wooing business," I said again.

"Well, I basically convinced her that if she gave me an excused note, that was all she had to do, but if she gave me an unexcused, she would need to go online, and fill out a form, and it would really just be far too much trouble."

"And that actually worked?"

"Once."

"So what'd you do today?"

"I said I had to pick up my brother."

"Because your brother doesn't live with you..."

"I go to the gym before school."

"Ah." I crinkled my eyebrows, thinking, as always.

"Wait, you go to the gym before school?" said Krystal, loudly, as always.

"Yes."

"Do you shower?"

"What?"

"Don't you smell bad?"

"Um."

"Do you shower when you go to the gym."

He looked at her.

"Wouldn't you smell bad?"

"What, do you want to smell me or something?"

Krystal, taking him entirely at his word, stood up and walked around the desks. She started leaning towards him and he stood up, using what height he has to his advantage. She put her nose near his arm and sniffed.

Mario looked rather confused as she continued sniffing up his arm. Julie and I were, by this time, in near-hysterics.

"I can't smell anything," announced Krystal.

"Um," said Mario.

"Lemme try your hair," she said, unsuccessfully attempting to bring her nose close enough to his hair to smell it. She then brought a stool over.

Mario tensed and leaned back slightly, his eyes all screwed up. His face looked like one a small child would make before getting a shot, something of an anticipatory wince.

Dr. Verona caught sight of Krystal on the chair and said "Krystal, demerit."

"He made me do it!"

Mario snorted but returned to his work, which seemed to consist of repeatedly highlighting the same words on a UPenn website.

"When you scroll over a person, it highlights the fields they work in, and when you scroll over a field, it highlights the people."

"That's handy."

"I suppose so." He then proceeded to give the computer monitor that oddly intent stare of his, and Krystal returned to her seat, and the conversation ended.