I'm approaching my first finals here at AIS. I suppose this should be a time to reflect on my first semester, though I suspect I'll have an easier time doing so after said finals are over.

Some initial thoughts, though:

• I didn't have a good handle coming in on where I stood in relation to the rest of AIS's population (this is the problem with comparing myself to frosh from RSI and my dorm). If I put in a quantity of work less than or equal to the amount of work I put in during high school, I emerge with passing grades. That said, if I actually were to work--if I actually put in the effort--I am fully capable of doing quite well. I'll approach next semester with this attitude from the start, instead of realizing it near the end, when it's already too late (alternately, will work harder when grades actually count).
• I spend a lot of time with Jason. Steadily more time as the semester has progressed, and particularly more time now that we hauled a second bed into his room and sleeping there is actually comfy. I'm not sure if this (the time spending, I mean, not the bed. The bed is great) is a good thing. On the one hand, being with him makes me happy, and I think he's a good influence--he encourages me to let loose a little more than I otherwise would, and he presses me to work harder. On the other hand, is spending so much time with him making me miss out on the whole college experience? I don't know, but then, how could I know about what I don't have?

I'm happy, though, like I said. So, so happy.

The boy in question, though, is rather annoyed with me at the moment. We played in a live-action role playing game last night that was 1920s themed. I was a flapper, he was a jazz musician. He was madly in love with me, I was a lesbian involved in a sordid affair with the wife of Hollywood's biggest star. Needless to say, I didn't pay much attention to him until I realized I desperately needed money, but then it turned out he needed money too, so I got him to assist me in murdering the woman he owed money to (she had killed my father long, long ago). Then I went shrieking off to the rest of the party, framing him in the process. It was, overall, quite awful of me. It worked, though, and I accomplished two of my objectives--I got Jason's character to stop following me around, and I avenged my father's death (well, suspected murder--I wasn't able to get enough money together to fund a full-on investigation. He ended up shooting me as he was dragged out of the club (one of my former whores had shown up and framed poor Jason for killing a mob boss), and I died quite tragically. It was really awesome, in my opinion, but he was rather annoyed.

The weirdest thing about sleeping until noon is that it makes the day feel really, really short.

Basically, all I've done today is play Environmental Oversight. I probably shouldn't have done this--for one thing, I have a mountain of work that I should be doing, and I'm still sick (planning on trying to go to a capella tomorrow, but when I was singing nerdy songs on the roofdeck last night, I only got through three songs before I literally couldn't sing anymore, but that was after a good deal of shrieking (can I help it if I react loudly to tickling?), so maybe things will go better), so running around for long quantities of time was even more difficult than it usually is.

But, it was extremely fun. I need to get better at switching weapons, and at not freezing up...and the endurance thing is kind of an issue, to the point where I felt like more of a liability than a help, though we were down enough people in comparison to the other teams that I was probably more use alive than not present. The world unfortunately did end up blowing up, and nobody escaped, but the red team put up a damn good fight.

Now I'm about to dig into planning my presentation for this Wednesday. Well, I'd been planning to do that, but now I'm thinking I want to head over to EC, especially since I have to get up at noon to get to rehearsal at 1. I really should practice piano, but I just don't feel like it. I'll pack a thing of post-it notes for tomorrow, then stick them wherever I can't keep up during rehearsal, then grind those spots out...

No, I need more practice. The presentation will have to wait.

Progressive Progress

Having a life is substantially more time consuming than I'd originally anticipated.

Since going on internship--well, really since I decided to stop putting effort into schoolwork--I've actually been going out, seeing random movies, shopping, treating myself to tacos, begging Chao to come visit me (I'd count "watching my grandmother get married", but if that had happened first semester I'd still have gone). It's nice, but I feel busy. Which is, I suppose, a good thing. Being not-busy makes me go all twitchy in my head, and then I feel unproductive and silly.

Business is best.

My internship, too, has been phenomenal. I'm learning about obscure genes, and I'm learning biology lab protocols. I successfully didn't contaminate my cells on the first day (though I did flub up on the final step and accidentally suck most of my sample into the vacuum pipette). I also apparently show a talent for tissue culturing, so hopefully that will pan out.

Though I have another paper to read today, and I need to work out some lab protocols, I think. So this post is going to be short.

I really need to devote some time to the mafia game. I keep getting wrapped up in unrelated things. It's a good thing I decided not to be god.

A Party for the Holy Days, pt. 1

For the past few days, I've been in D.C., preparing the RSI christmas party. We had a buttload of people come (and, unfortunately, a lot of people who didn't (miss you Leila, Zsa, and everybody else)). Apparently there's a number of people who want more mentions here, who I'm going to need to talk about, but I haven't had a good sleep in a considerable number of hours, so it's hard to keep track. I'm also going to have to share the spreadsheet...I'm starting to think it'd be a good idea to compile RSI nicknames separately, but, well, effort. Meh.

Anyways, I went in with Hyumni and Gopika--though I've pretty much been with Hyumni nonstop, since she's staying with me--and Gopika was, per usual, completely and utterly exhausted. Hyumni and I came bearing unnecessary chocolates, but the trip was fun (including the $20 cab fair *insert emoticon involving Html-prohibited characters here*). We arrived in a relatively punctual manner, and then I, at least, proceeded to spend a good long while trying to reacquaint myself with everybody.

I had no idea how awkward it was all going to be (I love that you're all going to see this now and be like "lol, Tea's awkward", but that's hardly news). It's weird to see all of these people and assimilate the changes in the social structure--i.e. who I've been talking to online along with who I used to talk to in person. It turned out to be alrgiht--I ended up in a crew of ten-ish people fighting over couch space. We spend a solid quantity of time ignoring Ash because he had skipped Rocky Horror to sleep (laaaame), as he was planning to skip the majority of this event. Ash decided to rebel by trying to steal James's spot, which, naturally, involved forcing James horizontal, lying down on top of somewhat-horizontal James, wedging James's head into my collarbone (ouch) and Ash's head into my skull (double ouch), and me into Iditri, who was actually relatively untroubled by this complete invasion of personal space.

Ash caved before James did, so we all managed to keep our spots, but our ability to keep Ash from sleeping turned out to be very, very limited. We eventually left the couch--videogamers took over the TV, and it's very difficult to resist the lure and remain in the same room, so we moved first to the third floor (we here refers me, James, Greg, Hyunmi, Iditri, Zorah, and Tramar). We spread out on the fantabulously plush carpet, and Zorah started fiddling about with her laptop. James, Tramar and I spread out under the table, and I continued making Greg pass me things (he's very useful like that), and I don't totally remember this portion of time, other than that I recall being very comfortable.

This shall be finished at a later date, because I am so goshdarned tired.

Shopping For Shirtsies

Please note that I am not actually purchasing said shirts...just looking for geeky ones. Some awesomes:

• A Fibonacci sequence...in BUNNIES
• Our beloved Ginny probably likes this one
• Awesome on a number of levels
• Someday, I will exist in an environment where I can wear shirts that say things like "bitches" on them'
• Chemistry win
• Physics win
• If it weren't for the inaccurate Bohr model of the atom and the color I can't quite pull off, I would want this shirt
• Kathrya would like this one
• SO PUNNY
• And one for Julie
• Lolz
• Redundancy!
• This one may never get old.

Okeedokee, that's enough for now.

I wish that I wrote something other than college essays

Because then I would have interesting things to put here. As it is, all I have are not-so-interesting stories, bad jokes, and rants over nothingness.

I think I'll go write a backpost.

Super Hot Physics

AKA learning about stars...at SHP! (am I clever or what?).

I took the train in with Clara, who is by far the calmest person I know about college decisions (well, it might be close on Kathrya, but she is nonetheless very chill). This is in marked contrast to my own behavior...which we're going to try not to think about. Because if I don't write it down, it didn't happen.

For your entertainment, I've compiled some quotes by my astro professor:

"The moon looks like a barren Italy...sort of like Afghanistan. I mean, really, why is anyone fighting over that place? Its three major food groups are metamorphic, igneous, and sedimentary."

"Fools and Galileo do not suffer each other gladly."

"The Galileo spacecraft looks like someone put it together with an erector set while drunk."

"Atoms are like tuning forks."

"Thermal physics is kind of like Sweden."

"So, if I assume that the sun is made of doughnuts, I can use this assumption to calculate its lifetime."

"Rivers are instrumental to the gradual destruction of life as we know it."

Overheard in the Library

Girl: You look like you need a hug.

Boy: Um.

Girl: Doesn't he look like he needs a hug?

Boy: Uh...

Girl: I would hug you, but I don't like touching people.

Another weekend draws to a close

I had a sum total of five hours of real, true relaxation this weekend. I spent these hours eating chinese food and playing 1984-themed Mafia while talking to Kathrya in person and Leila via skype.

The theme ended up not really functioning in practice, since we didn't have enough people, although it's possible that the second round, after I had left, went better.

I've decided to drop A.P. Spanish and take two frees. Getting my homework done not including Spanish still had me swamped, so I'm thinking that's a good idea, although once I get my college and science fair stuff in, I'm going to have a lot time on my hands.

Maybe I'll learn perl.

Well, that or sleep. I have a feeling I'll end up alternating between sleeping and reading trashy romance novels, just like I typically like to do. Predictable me.

I at least got round one of the Sieman's paper rewrite done. On second thought, I'm not sure if that competition name should have an apostrophe. Ah, well.

Yay for blogging! I'm going to go write another RSI post :)

Second Milestone Presentations

Milestones are far more work than they should be.

On this particular Milestone Morning, I was very tired. I was also rather annoyed, because A) only my group and one other group had presentations this morning, and B) our presentations were combined, meaning that I was going to have to sit through four hours of presentations.

I was also rather happy, because, as I told both Vanessa and Sadie that morning before class started, I'd had a very interesting midnight phone call the night before, and half of my mental processing power was devoted to "did he really say that?" and "whaaaaa?" but we shall ignore that for the purposes of this post.

Well, I tried to tell this to Vanessa and Sadie. My attempts were interfered with by my rather terrible laryngitis. The worse bit was that whenever I laughed, I would squeak all over the place, and then start laughing at myself laughing and make it worse. I am not good at resting my voice.

Sadie had her own interesting story as well, and hers centered around the RSI prom. I can't recall if, at that point, she had a date (though she ended up going with Aziz, and I think that she was one of the earlier askees). Anyways, she was talking to Ash about the prom, and was all "do you have a date yet? Who are you going to ask?" etc.

Ash, who had very limited interest in asking anybody, responded by saying "I'll go with this beef," gesturing at his lunch.

At this point in the retelling, Sadie started laughing, although I didn't quite get it.

Sadie apparently asked whether the beef was willing to go with him, and his response was "I'll ask" followed by "the beef said yes."

For some reason that I still don't quite comprehend, she thought that last line was basically the funniest thing ever, and proceeded to repeat the story whenever there was much in the way of funny story sharing.

I'll admit that, after a while, it did become rather funny.

Regardless, we went in, sat down, and prepared for presentations. I sat with my geographically convenient friends (Gopika and Sarah), and behind Ashley (remember...Ashley=Ash=guy with girly name) and Maxwell. This seating arrangement is irrelevant but for the fact that Gopika got to eat some of my cheetos (I see nothing wrong with bringing snacks to a four hour presentation block), and Ash had cool looking doodles.

I sat through a lot of talks, and got up to go to the bathroom rather frequently, so as to keep myself from displaying my boredom overmuch. The bathroom breaks caused me to miss both Ava's and Gaea's talks, which was probably fortunate, since they were both about (I think) colon cancer, and Ava apparently used very, very graphic images in hers, as she was blackballed for the next two days until she could get a cleaner copy of her presentation to her tutor.

Gopika, Sarah, and Vanessa all had super intense presentations. Maxwell's I don't remember (sorry dude!). Anwar's was also rather beastly. I would like to note that Anwar was in my peer editing group, so therefore some of his beastliness should be credited to me (note: this is a bold-faced lie, as Anwar is just naturally extremely good at giving presentations and writing papers and doing science in general).

As far as my own lab group goes, I am proud to say that I got through mine rather well. It was three hours in by that point, so my voice had recovered a teeny bit, so I squeaked my way through the basics of nuclear reactors and an outline of my project. I thought Didge's presentation was fine, but apparently it lacked basic effort, or something, so he got dumped on probation with Ava. Bashir used the photo of nuclear reactor towers with giant yellow smiley faces on them again.

Eventually, after 4+ hours, the presentations ended. We went back to W20 to eat, and Ash said that I sounded like a Southpark character, and he and Maxwell got annoyed with me for trying to talk, so I went and walked with people who had smaller "must take care of others" complexes.

Milestones

First week of mentorship was over, so I had to have an introductory milestone paper and presentation. That would have made more sense if I'd had longer than 24 hours since receiving said mentorship.

I may possibly have psyched myself and completely flubbed the presentation, but I will not admit to that here or anywhere, because I would prefer that it be forgotten (but, really, I forgot the difference between atoms and molecules. It was bad. Like, really, really bad).

Saturday was also a counselor group competition day, which consisted of the various counselor groups breaking off, and the members of each group engaging in a myriad of fun activities, including really, really awkward ones like sticking a toothpick in your mouth and using it to pass a lifesaver on to the next person's toothpick (Arthur? I realize that you may be proud of the three facial hairs that you are in possession of, but I feel no need to get that close to them again. Please remove them).

Anyways, I will refrain from discussing the rest of the activities, so that any future Rickoid that reads this will not be at risk of spoilage, and instead use this opportunity to introduce my counselor group.

Dawson: Dawson is a math person, but I like him anyways because when I am lazy, he'll find the area of a hexagon for me, like he did yesterday. He is dissatisfied with his project because it involves a lot of case work, which is apparently boring. He is also one of the ten-thousand-bajillion tall asian guys here (note: there are not quite that many, I am just so confused by the fact that tall Asian guys exist in such a large quantity that I occasionally exaggerate (I'm not sure whether Rube counts as a counterrargument that they exist elsewhere)).

Arthur: Arthur is another math person, and I like him as well because he once spent over an hour trying to explain his project to me, and when I am doing anything by myself and I run into him, he is perfectly willing to be dragged along. For instance, this happened last week when I tried to do my laundry. I was confused by the asymmetry of the laundry detergent bottle and spilled detergent all over myself and the machine; fortunately, I had brought Arthur to the laundry room with me to help. However, as he was inserting quarters, he leaned on the machine and got detergent on his shorts. I said I'd throw them in with my wash, and he was approximately thisclose to just taking them off before he decided that, considering the fact that we were already chillling out alone in a windowless room, he'd be better off going upstairs. I hopped up after him so I could de-soap myself a bit, but realized I'd forgotten my purse, so he went back and got it, we went up the stairs (performing difficult door-holding maneuvers so I could get through without touching anything or anyone), and I cleaned my legs and arms off before realizing that, lo and behold, there were no towels in his bathroom. 'Twas fun.

Miles: Miles is Australia. Miles is awesome. Miles is dating Ava and they are the most cute-tastic couple ever. Miles also finds it entertaining when I repeat everything he says while trying to mimic his accent, and he sat around with me whenever I felt the need to bitch about my old mentorship. Miles also loves sailing, particularly catamarans, to which I said we should go get Nyx to take us in one of her wonderful free rentals, but then we realized that the fact that we're not allowed off campus may get in the way of that sort of thing.

That just about sums up the group of us that sits on the top of the spare bed in our counselor's room during bedcheck while Keyuri, the counselor in question, reads off anouncements. I will go through everyone else at a later time.

I have computer time

and, since I'm not particularly good at taking naps, I've elected to write you a post.

I am at RSI. I should be very, very tired, but, as I just had an extremely delicious coffee, I am not. 'Tis lovely. Absolutely splendiferous. I wonder how long it will be until my sleeping patterns adjust. My roommate is named Leila, and she has been brought in all the way from Catalonia, and even though she speaks Catalan natively, she's better at Spanish than English, so she doesn't mind my feeble attempts at practicing. She studies some sort of astronomy, and she has this big paper with lots of fancy-schmancy math in it that I understand only bits and pieces of (apparently there is far more to Keplar's law than just, you know, Keplar's law).

When I first got here, I was very, very afraid of all of the people, because, as most of you are aware, I really really really really really do not like crowds. However, I'm good with small groups, so I've mostly been starting small and then working my way up, which has been working alright, since I've learned a lot of names (and people talk to me! It's quite exciting.)

Another highlight was the battle in the ballpit. Because, you know, we have a ballpit. It. Is. AWESOME. I keep jumping into it somewhat randomly, because it really is extremely fun, but last night we got a good group going, and we had the plastic equivalent of a snowball fight. My team lost, but I did a decent job of weakly chuckign the things before I discovered that it was much more effective to pretend that I was in a pool and 'splash.'

Anyways, this morning, I had my first day of classes. I am taking chemistry and biology. The bio, unsurprisingly, is fairly easy. The chem, which I did not sign up for, is far over my head. I had to get someone to explain electronegativity to me, which did help, but I am still, overall, somewhat confuzzled by the idea. At the very least, my moaning "I have taken exactly 6 weeks of chemistry and I DON'T GET IT" has caused a few people to laugh, although I'm not sure if it's just because my complete inadequacy is making them uncomfortable.

Hopefully I will never need to find out.

The Myriad of Uses for a Free Period

I spent the entire period today sitting in the math/science learning center talking to Mario. Well, first I was talking to Mr. Booth, asking him to sign my National Honors Society application. So then we had a brief discussion on that application, and then we started talking math team.

Mario at least had the decency to act a bit surprised that I didn't make states. Then we got another motivational Beat Treeburg! speech from Mr. Booth about wanting to watch them squirm. Honestly, I think competitiveness should be more about being the best than watching the losers squirm, but Mr. Booth has a different opinion, I guess. Eventually, the Learning Center woman shushed the three of us and Mario and I returned to our work. Well, I checked my email, and he did something to the essay he was writing for Economics.

At some point, he turned around to talk to Bryant, who was taking a test on the other side of the room. "What would you say about this?" he asked.

Bryant ignored him, so Mario began commentating. "Oh, he's rubbing the ear, this must be a good problem."

This made Bryant look up. "It's decent. Not really that interesting." He went back to his test.

"Ooh, he's got the chin going now."

"Look at that pen twitch," I added.

"That," said Mario, "is a significant pen twitch."

"Is testing that much better with commentary?"

"I'd say so. Oh, look, he's moving back to the ear."

Bryant grinned but didn't look up.

"He's pretty skilled, to be able to test through that sort of distraction," I said.

"Yeah. Too bad he can't get a prom date."

"He has a prom date."

"No. Really?" He turned back around. "Bryant, you have a prom date?"

"Yeah."

"Who is it?"

"It's Nancy. Stop distracting him," I said.

"Nancy? Seriously? Bryant, you getting Tybalt's sloppy seconds? You double tap her or something?"

This Bryant ignored completely.

"What?" I said.

"Tybalt went with her to Counties, right?"

"Yeah. I'm not sure that's precisely the language I would use, though."

He shrugged, and we both went and worked a bit more.

A later conversation:

"Oh, was it you who told Ms. Seltzia- oh, what was it...."

"The nipple thing?"

"No, she told us that was you."

"Damn, she told you?"

"Yeah. Then she wanted to know where you were that period- period 8- and I actually knew, which was kind of weird."

"Weird?"

"Knowing that many of your classes."

"Well, I haven't got very many, so it's not like it's difficult."

"True."

"You know, I never bothered to learn Scarlett's second semester schedule."

"Are you still...?"

He shrugged. "Well, I mean, I've developed this new theory."

"What's that?"

"I'm trying to figure out how to say it. It's like, the less invested I get, the better the payout. Like, when you try too hard, it doesn't work."

"A bit depressing." Why does that sound like a hint?

"Nah, I mean, once you change your attitude a bit, what really ends up happening is that you're putting in less effort for greater returns."

I shrugged, and we both went back to our respective work, which, by now, had evolved to him crafting a flow chart on Inspiration and saying "bam" every time he changed the shape of an object, and me flipping through xkcd cartoons, looking for good visuals for English.

Math Class (the jokes on who?)

Today, I walked into calculus late.

This is not surprising, as I frequently walk into class late. On this particular occasion, I was late because I had to print out my note packets for class. I printed a spare for Nyx, ended up giving it to Jeremy, and then none of us needed them in the first place because the seniors were getting a class picture taken, so Mrs. James had elected to spend the entire class period communicating with the juniors.

As I was saying, I got to class, and, as I'm sitting down, I notice Mario and his freshly-cut hair (I told him last week that it looked good. I'm not certain that it does, but don't tell him I said so) and then sit in my normal seat, next to Gretchen.

"Guess who's he-re" said Nyx.

"I already noticed."

"Really?" asked Gretchen.

"Are you that surprised?"

I got a small laugh for that one.

I'm going to spare you a play-by-play of the entire class period and give a few highlights instead.

Mario then spent roughly fifteen minutes repeatedly taking the square roots of random numbers just to prove he could. He then tried to teach the rest of us how to do so, although I blatantly ignored his explanation and Boris claimed it was unnecessary (Boris was wrong).

At one point, Bryant was fiddling with something on his ipod. I think this is primarily because prolonged separation from technological devices is damaging to his health. Mrs. James started ribbing him a bit.

"Bryant how did you get on that site in school?"

"Huh?"

"He must have used a proxy. That's what they're called, proxies, websites that let you access other-" said Boris.

"I can show you what I was on if you want."

"I really don't think she needs to see that," advised Jeremy.

"Oh, I wouldn't wouldn't worry about it," said Mario. "He can't really get into it without the sound."

Gretchen and I nearly died. As Tybalt said later, "I laughed so hard that I went lightheaded."

"What time do you think the seniors are getting back?" asked Mrs. James.

"Never."

"Yeah, definitely never."

"But I was going to teach!"

"What's the next chapter on, polar or something, right?" said Sergio.

"Yes, polar," answered Bryant.

"I remember polar," said Mario.

"Which one is that?"

"The circular graphs, with the Rs and thetas."

"Oh, THOSE. The butt graphs," said Jeremy.

"They don't look like butts," said Mrs. James.

"Oh, yes they do." Jeremy went to the board and drew a graph that looked rather like this, but turned sideways. "There's the right cheek." He wrote RC on that side. "The left cheek," he said, writing LC, "and I think we all know what that one is."

"I still don't think it looks like a butt," said Mrs. James.

"No, you're drawing the wrong graph," said Mario, jumping up from the seat he'd stolen from the invisible person who sits there ordinarily and taking Jeremy's marker. He drew something rather like this, but turned sideways, and with the upward facing petal elongated and the other two squished up so that it looked like certain male anatomy.

"Okay, that does not look like that at all!" exclaimed Mrs. James. "It is a three petaled rose, not a, a, a-"

"Penis?" somebody filled in.

"It's a thee petaled rose! And the petals are all the same size, like this-" she redrew it"-not like that AT ALL!"

I must say, I adore her for being more upset about the mathematical wrong than the impropriety.

Gretchen and Tea add Kathrya to the Conversation cont.

Tea: "odd really like Kad"

Gretchen: Good boy. He can spell. Sort of.

Kathrya: Not at all, he fails at spelling, he will fail the English part of the SATs

Gretchen: He took the ACT.

Tea: oddked kar to prom?

Gretchen: What are you responding with?

Tea: "girlfriend" he said. I said "Kathrya and Gretchen are making fun of your spelling." Now he's mad at me for showing you our conversation.

Kathrya: Oh, lordy.

Tea: How many details am I allowed to share. Probably none right?

Kathrya: Pretty much.

Tea: I told him that he can get it from Tybalt, and it's a girlfriend, and if he says anything else, I'm telling him that I'm going to talk about my period until he shuts up.

Kathrya: YES.

Tea: Genie wants to know how many Apolo Ohnos Tybalt could lift. Also, have you seen She's the Man? Because that is the BEST MOVIE EVER and there's a scene where Olivia goes into the gym, and Duke is weight lifting, and she's like "how many of me could you lift?" and he's like uh, uh, tries to count on his fingers and then slams his head into the machine. I LOVE THAT MOVIE.

A Sign from Above

A sign posted on Oddly Specific reads:

Please do not annoy, torment, pester, plague, molest, worry, badger, harry, harass, heckle, persecute, irk, bullyrag, vex, disquiet, grate, beset, bother, tease, nettle, tantalize or ruffle the animals.

I think they've covered all the bases.

I'm still trying to figure out how they sorted them. It's clearly not in alphabetical order, and yet there are alliterative couplets. How decidedly odd.

What's also funny is how many of the first synonyms of the words show up. If you thesaurus it up, you get:

Kindly do not irritate, tease, badger, pester, harass, trouble, pester, harass, jeer, harass, irritate, (bullyrag is not a real word), annoy, perturb, irritate, plague, disturb, make fun of, irritate, tease or annoy the creatures.

Terms that appeared in the original are bolded.

I only wonder why they didn't have irritate on it the first time.

Scrabble

Today, Nyx and I played scrabble. I opened with "qat", which I was very proud of myself for remembering, and a few turns later I put down "sex," which I was again very proud of myself for. A few minutes after that, Nyx started laughing at her letters.

"What?" I asked

"Nothing," she said, continuing to laugh.

"Tell me! Do you have an inappropriate word in there?"

"No, I don't."

"Oh, that's disappointing."

"What are we going to do?"

I sighed. "Ah, well, at least we have sex on the board."

Nyx cracked up.

"What? Nyx, what is so funny?"

"Did you hear what you just said?"

"Yes. Why are you laughing."

"You just said we have sex on the board."

"Oh." I chuckled, and we immediately returned to playing.

"You know," I said, "if Kathrya were here, we'd still be laughing."

Nyx won the game.

Homework

is something that I really, really don't want to do. Instead, I am embarking on an epic MLIA reading spree. It's positively splendiferous.

Also, you know your friends are fabulous when Taylor Swift's You Belong With Me starts playing at the bowling alley, you acknowledge that none of you really like Taylor Swift, but all start singing along anyways. Loudly. Jack, who was at the next lane over, probably thinks that we are freaks. Oh well.

Tonight, I will spend a quiet evening at home with my boyfriend, a yellow 10-pound medium hole bowling ball. We're very close.

Freewrite

A piece of narrative writing with an implicit theme.

My sister Genie and I were squished together in the tiny changing room. “Where’d my tank go?” she asked.

“I think it’s under the dress,” I said, unclipping a pair of capris from their hanger. It was August, and we were doing our back-to-school shopping for the year. I slid into the pants. “What do you think?”

“They’d look better on me.”

I laughed. “Thanks. That means a lot to me.”

“No problem.”

I pulled a face at her, and she grinned before pulling her shirt over her head. I watched as she fit her arms into the sleeves of the embroidered red tank top. She jiggled a bit, and I reached out and poked a bit of fat above her hip. I was about to make some comment, but I remembered everything I’d read about how a single comment about weight could destroy someone’s self-confidence and said nothing.

She paused and looked at me, confused.

I smiled vacantly. “Hip bone,” I said, by way of explanation.

“What?”

“Hip bone.” I poked her again, this time deliberately aiming for the little bony ridge.

This time, she laughed and poked me back. “Hip bone.”

“Hip bone.” I poked her again.

“Hip bone.”

“Hip bone.”

We dissolved into giggles, continuing to poke each other until we were laughing so hard that I overturned the rickety chair that took up what little free space in the dressing room.

The next week, we were in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner. I washed, Genie dried, and our younger sister Shelby cleared. When I reached over to pick up the fancy metal platter Mom had used to serve hamburgers, my shirt rode up my side. Genie paused in her drying and leaned over to poke my hip.

“Hey,” I recoiled, annoyed, but she just grinned at me.

“Hip bone.”

I began to laugh as well and poked her back. “Hip bone.”

“Hip bone.”

“Hip-” I gave enough of hiccup-y laugh that my words were cut off, but she caught my meaning and poked me again.

When Shelby brought her next small stack of plates over, she found us laughing so hard we were near tears. “What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Nothing, nothing,” I shook my head, still giggling.

“Tell me!”

I chuckled again. “It’s an inside joke, you wouldn’t get it.”

“Yes I would, just tell me!”

“It doesn’t matter anyways,” said Genie. “Did you wipe the table yet?”

“You never tell me anything,” Shelby whined.

“Of course I do. Go wipe the table.”

“No, you don’t!”

“It’s not our fault you spill secrets,” I said, joining the argument.

“I don’t know any secrets to spill because you don’t talk to me.”

“Maybe if you’d actually help with the dishes I’d talk to you.”

“Yeah,” said Genie. “Go wipe the table!”

"You’re so mean!” Shelby yelled.

“I’d be nicer if you helped!” said Genie.

“Could you two just stop fighting and get back to work,” I added, my voice low and angry.

“You don’t love me,” cried Shelby.

“It’s not a matter of loving you, it’s a matter of getting things done. I don’t want to be here all night, so could you please just clear the damn table?” I was yelling.

“I hate you!” screamed Shelby, and she slammed the plates down on the counter and ran out of the room.

I grunted and punched the edge of the sink. “Ow.” I shook my hand out.

Genie laughed.

Names

Today, my name was Elizabeth Anna Marie Prescott, but you can call me Bunny (Mom says that it's short for Elizabeth). Shelby was called Jane Annabeth Steward Prescott, Genie was Jillian something something Prescott, Dad was Quentin, and Mom was Isadora. It was quite fun, although Mom kept messing up and calling us by our real names. I was very good at it, if I do say so myself, saying "what?" whenever somebody called "Bunny?"

Tomorrow, we're considering Hippies: Moonbeam, Sunshine, and Rainbow. Any guesses which one is me?