Fun

In health class, Red poked me while the teacher was talking and whispered, "Mario was just staring over here, so I waved at him, and he looked away," although she actually referred to him by both first and last name.

He was probably trying to figure out why I kept looking over where he was (I was watching the clock! Honest! The second hand was broken, so it was doing this really entertaining thing where it skidded forward only every four seconds!), or had become completely enthralled by Red's red hair or the weird poster with the male olympians on it (unlikely), but really, Mario, you were creepishly staring at Julie just last week! You need to be more careful not to zone out while looking at people.

Speaking of Mario, as I've said before, Kathrya believes that he walks awkwardly. In fact, she believes that she can distinguish a nerdy guy solely by his walk. I told this to Ginny today while Bryant and Tybalt were about twenty yards in front of us. I finished up with, "I mean, just look at the twins!" right when they rounded the corner ahead.

"You want to run after them and observe?"

"Yes!" I said, and we rent running up to the corner before continuing to walk, this time a bit closer behind them. For anyone who's interested, they were stepping in opposite synchrony, going inside-outside-inside-outside, and they don't walk in precisely the same manner.

During science research today, I did the lab that's supposed to teach us how to use the micropipettes. Lumiere and Elle talked about this weekend's drunken antics. Lumiere seems to have some real memory issues. He had no recollection of telling Elle that he'd devirginized seven girls (he claims that he's slept with seven, but only three were virgins (only three. ha.)), and had no clue why he'd woken up on Sunday morning with a bed full of sand (tag on the beach). Elle professes to be very dedicated to TAG, which is Teens Against Something-to-do-with-drugs-and-alcohol-that-starts-with-G. Julie mildly insulted Lumiere while he was going on about his moral code, and she used a large-ish word I've forgotten (purport? profess?) but that he didn't know the meaning of. This from a boy who is going to Yale next year. I, for one, am appalled.

Diaries

I just spent about forty minutes reading these. Highly enjoyable.

Today in ASR, I was sitting at my table with my assigned biweekly seating group. I sit across from Elle, who friended everyone in the grade on facebook before starting ninth grade. Next to me is Angela, one of only two sophomores in the class, who always seems to have the lost wide-eyed expression that makes me want to help her. Across from her is Lumiere (I can have a weird nickname every now and then if I want to), who says that he's already gotten into a college that sounds suspiciously like Stanford, probably on an athletic thing, because how else could anyone know where they're going already (*cough* stupid fucking jocks *cough cough*).

Anyways, Dr. Verona was talking and talking about something that was fairly interesting, but not quite interesting to devote my full attention to. I believe it had something to do with the wonders of using Google Docs for creating scientific diagrams, which he claims is extremely easy, but I actually find it rather difficult. Due to boredom and general confusion, I pulled out my handy-dandy sharpie and my assignment planner and began doodling on the back. As I completed my first very pretty spiral, my pinky smudged it, so there was a little gray sticky-outie bit. I paused and began to glare at it, extremely upset. Lumiere and Elle started cracking up. "That's just awful!" said Elle, continuing to laugh. I giggled a bit, but I didn't really think it was that funny. Angela looked lost and confused, per usual. I corrected my doodle by doing a cool little wave pattern thing, and when I finish the back (assuming I don't smudge it again) it should turn out alright.

Later on, in that same class, we were working on the computers, so I decided to check my email. I had one from Vicky that was about a certain someone who she is really not supposed to be writing to me about. However, I read the whole thing, then abruptly realized that that same someone was sitting all of three feet away from me, and immediately clicked away, hoping that no one had been reading over my shoulder.

Also awkward: I now know precisely what underwear my math teacher, Mrs. James, wears. (Green with pink polka-dots panties thinner than mine but wider than a thong, for anyone who cares). Beautiful as the green skirt she wore today is, she really ought to be more careful. Aside from the underwear, though, do you think I could just steal her clothes? Because I really do like a lot of them. This is as opposed to Ms. Martie, my health teacher, who owns one pair of pants in two different colors, from what I can tell. According to Kathrya, however, most of the guys in our grade would like to get into said pairs of pants.

Ew.