I feel like a hand-height section of my torso around the vicinity of my bellybutton has been filled with knives. I know I'd been saying for the past few days that I'd rather have the cramps than the soreness that precedes it, but at this point I'd go back in an instant.

At the very least, now I'm working on my math pset instead of going to a physics recitation. Which kind of counts as being productive. But, mostly, I just hurt.

That was written a while ago. Now it's much, much later, and I'm back at the dorm, and I'm pretending that it's still the 28th because it isn't 6 am yet. Being silly on Bonfire is a heck of a lot of fun. James continues to be highly ticklish, and Ruby is continuing her efforts to learn what girls James thinks are cute (so far--there is at least one computer science girl at AIS who I also know who is attractive. Also, James doesn't want a trophy wife when he grows up).

In other news, Victor's hair is incredibly fluffy, I babble about things I shouldn't when I get tired, and Nicole squees about gay boys and cats. I squee about astronomy, though (not, as Nicole thought, astrology. Good god...), so it kind of works out.

Now, I really should sleep. Even if sleep is for the weak.

Someone said that in 13 Days, which we watched for my foreign policy class. "Sleep is for the weak." So the statement could not have originated with Becton.

Every Day, It's a Gettin Closer

Movie night last night. We watched The Prestige, which was completely amazing.

My arms are sore, particularly the insides of my forearms. I think it's from doing pull-ups on the diving board yesterday, but regardless of what it's from, it makes typing incredibly uncomfortable.

I miss Julie and Cammie, but at least Julie will be back soon. Snuggling with her with would have been a good antidote to the moie-night-induced "last time I did this I had a cuddle buddy" issue, but it is what it is, and I'm fine.

I'm through the roof excited for AIS. Just like before I left for RSI this summer, I'm spending so much energy being excited that I'm not bothering to savor what I have. But, then, there's not all that much to savor beyond solitude, and I've certainly been savoring plenty of that. Well, there's Nyx, who is currently at her second to last day of work, but I'm probably going to sleep over at her house tonight, and I'll be bothering the heck out of her these coming days, so I'm not missing anything right this second. Julie is in Michigan visiting Timothy, and Cammie is already at college, and Kathrya is long gone, so no dice there. Yuma is around, but I'll see him in a week anyways. There are a few other people, but no one that I'm desperate to see, no one I'm going to be striving to keep up with in the coming years.

Just my family, really, but I spent two weeks ensconced with them, and, well, they're my family. I'll keep in touch with them, and, really, I'll always make time to see them.

I'm ready to go, and I'm excited, and, unlike last time, I'm not going to feel like I'm missing out on anything at home. So this time, I think, all is well.

Fantabulosity

Today started with getting to sleep in, so it really seemed good from the beginning. Unfortunately, my beloved youngest sister got into a screaming fight with my mom at the time my alarm would have gone off anyways, so my attempts at rest were thwarted.

On the plus side, I then spent many hours lolling about the house and being generally unproductive (and by unproductive, I mean "covered two more mini-units of vector review," obviously). Then I drove all the way to somewhat-far-off-town, successfully using the car's built-in GPS to locate the photography studio. It was easily identified by the nerdy looking kid wearing khakis and a blue shirt, just as ordered.

I derived a surprising amount of enjoyment from the photo-taking. I realize that the people there are supposed to go on and on about how beautiful the photograph-ee looks, but that doesn't mean that a mountain of compliments isn't fun. Posing with Rodney was probably more fun on the whole, though. We got lumped together after the photographer+assistants asked if we knew each other---not if we liked each other, mind you, just if we knew each other. This meant that as they posed us in various relations to each other, we got to make jokes at their expense, which more or just meant calling them crazy and then laughing a lot (you'd laugh to, if you were uncomfortable). There are also some photos of us making James Bond poses that I'd love to get ahold of at some point in the future.

Also, I met this cute guy from Tennessee who rides Tennessee walking horses (or something like that) professionally and wants to be a large animal vet when he grows up. I kind of really wanted to attempt to set him up with Kathrya, but then I found out that he is only a junior. Well, that and I remembered that Kathrya has a boyfriend, but these are minor details.

Later this evening, I went to movie night. It was a painful decision between settling down with a new way of thinking about projection vectors and going to watch A Fish Named Wanda, but I think I made the right decision. The movie was hilarious. Also, I got to meet Timothy, at long last. He is every bit as adorably nerdy as expected. I already want to be his friend, and he totally fits right into the group, which is lovely on the whole. He and Julie are colossally cute (I actually said to Yuma "they're like you and Ginny. It's adorable!", so I'm now officially on record on finding Yuma and Ginny cute rather than nauseating).

The evening ended with eight of us sitting hunched over in the back of Josh's car, eating ice cream out of the carton and discussing internet browsers in great detail. It was amazing. Nerdiness to the point of perfection.

The best terrible pun I can remember (I love puns so, so much) was Josh saying that Julie was covered in mud and therefore "so dirty." So much pun. So much wonderful.

Nyx also said, at one point, "this is so much more fun than getting drunk."

"Agreed," I replied.

"I really wouldn't know," said Brian.

It was then realized that none of us actually knew, but we nonetheless agreed that this sort of activity is in every way superior.

I love my friends.

So I meant to go to sleep

I told James that I was, and it'd be rather rude for me not to, now that I said I did. Particularly since I was up well past midnight last night. I'm not sure what I was thinking with that--probably that my body doesn't seem to care, and that Mafia and the subjunctive tense are more entertaining than whatever else I was up to.

I still haven't made a "sleep" tag for posts. I refuse to. Sleep is for the weak, as Becton would say.

It's ridiculous, isn't it, how frequently I talk about RSI people, months after the fact. I still hang out with them, too--I almost got lunch with Gopika today, I spent so much of those preview weekends with Rickoids--I feel bad about how many awesome people I'm not meeting, but whenever I'm not with my summer buddies I miss them. I've turned into a "One time at band camp..." person, but it's science camp, instead.

I went looking for "This one time at band camp" on tvtropes, since I assumed it must be something of a trope, and it turns out it was repeatedly used in American Pie. Or, it's frequently referenced from there. The line in question is "And this one time, at band camp, I stuck a flute in my pussy." I'm telling you this so that next time Cammie launches onto the topic, I won't be the only one feeling somewhat uncomfortable.

SHP is still fun, even though I barely comprehend cosmology and I'm alone on the train because no one else bothers to show up. It's good to see Gopika. It's occasionally even good to see Rube, though not usually.

I haven't really talked about any of the college previews here...I need to remember to talk about James and his complex manifolds, though I've already told most of my readers it, I think. Ah well, it rarely hurts to repeat a funny story, and there could be people I don't actually know who would appreciate it! Right? Right...

On the plus side, James is coming to college with me, bringing [my school] to 2 more committed Rickoids than [other school]. Which means that we're way more awesome. Duh.

Sniper No Sniping!

So I nerd sniped myself last night in the middle of dinner by derailing to entire conversation to prove that twin primes always surround multiples of six (answer: in a given set of three numbers, one will be a multiple of three, and this cannot be one of the primes, so it's the middle value. Additionally, primes are odd, but odds and evens alternate so the middle number must be even. Even multiples of three are multiples of six. Proof made).

Last night I also didn't sleep enough (shocker) because it was my beloved Cammie's birthday. Well, birthday party, but it amounts to the same thing. We had a Harry Potter role-playing battle at the park, then went back to her house, watched Moulin Rouge (or however it's spelled), and stayed up until 3 am talking. In our defense, we thought daylight savings time was applied, and it was actually 2 am, but this turned out not to be the case.

Aside from that, MIT applications are due tomorrow, but I already finished mine, so this doesn't really matter. I ought to be studying for my chem test, and I think I need to read Candide this weekend, and I should figure out where I'm going with my Lit X, and write my college essays, and do a thousand other things on my to do list.

They'll get done. Someday.

Despicable Me

Once the final papers were all in, it was movie night. The options: Salt and Despicable Me. Sucker that I am, I elected to go see the animated children's movie, a decision I do not regret--for realsies, that movie was soooo cute! (in the words of Kathrya, though she didn't see the movie).

We broke into two groups in the theater--the loud people (Keyuri, Astrid, and others) sat in the back, and I sat somewhere closer to the middle, between Bart and Ravi, who are both wonderful, kind, and popcorn sharing.

The movie was, as I said, basically totally adorable. I have such a weakness for animation (anyone else excited for Tangled? I know Bing is psyched about the hair super awesome hair), and small children, and adorable monster type things, and, well, basically I loved the movie. So...yeah. That's about all I have to say on that one.

I'm having vague recollections of the walk to the movie, now, where we misplaced Dominique, so Dill and one of the counselors waited for her, but she took a cab instead. It made me laugh. Also, I'm totally not sure if that actually happened, I just kind of vaguely think that it did.

After the movie, we split into a burger/pizza group (it was one of the two...) and a dim sum group, which was headed by Hannah, her random friend, and a bunch of other counselors. The only students were me and Remus, and Remus and I didn't really talk much, so basically I stared at my plate during most of the extremely delicious meal, which was lame. Then I talked to Hannah's random friend, who went to school with Maxwell, about Maxwell's issue with tucking in his shirts.

Then Remus and I talked about gossip. About me. Which was weird, because usually I gossip about other people. Then I went back to the dorm. I probably slept at that point, seeing as I had pulled an all-nighter the evening before, but I don't really remember. It all blurs together after a while. This may have been the time that Leila didn't make it back to our room until 5 am, but, again, I don't remember. I hate how little I can put in order, now.

I am sad.

Laundry and Lockouts

This post is going to be a compendium of a few different events, all of them utterly interesting.

Laundry, the first time:

The first week had ended, and the second was rapidly approaching. I discovered that I had run out of underwear and tanks, and my bras were starting to smell.

For a moment, I was confused about the path forward, but then it hit me: laundry. I loaded up my bin, then began the intrepid trek downstairs (by downstairs, I mean, literally, down one flight of stairs to the eighth floor, where I thought the laundry machine was, then down a second flight of stairs, to the seventh floor, where the laundry machine actually was.)

On my way down, I ran into (note: not literally) Arthur. Seizing upon the opportunity to socialize, I asked if he would come with me, as I frequently have issues with laundry.

He looked somewhat confused, but he soon consented. We entered the laundry room. The door shut. I had a moment of awkward realization that I was alone in a windowless room with a male of the species before I shrugged it off and began sorting my lights and brights.

All was well. I poured detergent into the first machine and figured out how to insert quarters. I went to put detergent into the second machine.

It was then that I discovered that my laundry detergent bottle was not, in fact, symmetrical. It was really rather asymmetrical, with only one side appropriate for pouring. I realized this belatedly, when a tide of Tide fell upon the machine, dripping down to my legs and non-pouring arm.

I began to laugh madly, and Arthur joined in. Through my somewhat hysterical giggles, I asked him to put quarters into the second machine, which he did, only to realize that he'd leaned into it and gotten detergent all over his shorts. We laughed again.

I then apologized profusely for being such a klutz, and offered to wash the shorts. He agreed, stepped back, and was about a half a second away from de-shortsing himself before he realized that would probably be a bad idea.

He said he'd go upstairs, I said I could do with a towel, we got halfway down the hall when I realized I'd forgotten my wallet, so Arthur, being the less soapy of the two of us, went back and fished it out.

We went upstairs, I washed my legs in his sink, then realized that there were no towels in his bathroom, so I hopped, wet leg off the ground, over to his door, through which I called "Arthur? Towel? Please?"

Arthur, in clean cargo shorts identical to the previous pair, emerged with towel. I finished de-sudsing, then we went back down, threw in his shorts, started the machine, and returned to our respective rooms.

Later, we both went on the dinner trip to Fire and Ice but didn't talk to each other.

Laundry #2

Leila did the laundry. She came back and said, "You are not allowed to call me a bad roommate, I made you laundry!" It was so adorable I decided not to correct her.

Laundry #3

I combined loads with Astrid and Leila. Astrid helped me sort. I changed the clothes over, then eventually brought them back.

During the walk to the machine, Dawson and Arthur followed me part way, then left me in Astrid's capable hands.

Laundry #4

Dawson announced that he was doing laundry. I mentioned that I was running out of underwear and needed to do the whole laundry thing. I asked if I can throw a few pairs in with his clothes so that I could delay more effectively.

He, somewhat uncomfortably, agreed. I got my undies, he got his clothes and detergent, we both put in some quarters and some clothes and started the machines.

During the 45 interim minutes, I took a shower, then realized that it'd been 45 minutes, threw on my sundress (yes, and nothing else) and rushed down to meet him.

The clothes smelled suspiciously not clean.

I asked how much detergent he put in. He looked confused. I asked again. He said "I thought you put it in."

"No, you definitely did."

"I did not."

"Oh."

We paused, looked at the machines, prepared to reload.

He looked uncomfortable.

"What?" I asked.

"I can't get over the whole 'underwear' thing."

"Fine." I took them out, he added detergent, and we left.

"Do you want to go get dinner?" he asked.

I agreed, then realized that I wasn't hungry. "Wait, no."

"What?"

"I'm sorry, it's just, well, I'm not really supposed to agree to do things with you just because I want to be around you anymore."

"Oh. Right."

"Yeah."

We stood awkwardly. I went upstairs, then realized that my key was in my room.

I, notably, was not in said room.

Which brings us to Lockout #1

I was fortunate that I was in possession of many panties, and that my bathroom, with its small heap of dirty clothing was unlocked.

I was also fortunate in that I'd left my backpack full of work under Nicholas's care in the student center to return to at a later time.

I got downstairs, newly clad in tank and cargos, and flung myself upon the couch. Astrid, Minette, and Norman looked at my questioningly.

"I'm locked out. I have no shoes. I have no sweater. I'm going to W20 to work, because I have no money and can't eat."

Astrid loaned me her horribly undercharged meal card (I think Sweden has been overpaying her), and Norman brought me upstairs and loaned me a horribly expensive sweater.

I then went to W20 and worked until Leila got back with her key and let me in. This was a time period along the lines of 3 hours, as she'd gone on a movie trip.

Lockout #2

I was at least wearing clothes this time. I show up at bedcheck, go "Leila, I'm locked out again," she gives me her key, I return a moment or two later, pillow in hand.

Lockout #3

Repeat, verbatim, Lockout #2.

These events led me to two my superlatives: most likely to injure myself, and most likely to get locked out.

Yay, me.

Rocky Horror Picture Show

The shopping for this took place immediately following the 2nd Milestone presentations. I gave some cash to Sadie and had her shop for me, as I had to work.

Dawson gave his money to Arthur and sent him. He realized only later that this would likely end up in something a tad more scandalous than his original intent. Apparently, though, when it comes to Rocky Horror, scandalous is what you're going for.

I know I went on some trip on this day, because I clearly recall coming back and being really, really exhausted, and then having to change in about 10 minutes flat, and having nothing to wear, and ending up wearing this long shirt that was "totally not revealing" along with sneakers, because sneakers are comfy. I maintain that Arthur worse sneakers, so they were fine, but I've been told that the fact that Arthur was wearing pink tights and an extremely short miniskirt negates this.

I borrowed tall socks from Minette and a belt from Kaylee, loaned my not-even-that-short-but-at-least-belonging-to-someone-with-a-vagina shorts to Dawson (who got a really, really weird stain on them, actually), and had at least three guys try on my one pair of pathetically low heels, in hopes that they could find something that fit (those they fit declared them rather horrifically uncomfortable).

We headed out, I fought to stay awake. I was that behind on sleep. We walked all the way there with relatively few odd events, aside from me walking briskly in the front along with James and Hassan because we looked less scary to whoever we walked past than did Ululani and Arthur, who were leaning more in the "going all out" direction, and Arthur's skirt rather inconveniently blowing up and scaring the bejeezus out of an innocent passerby (although I really could have done with out the spandex demonstration).

We got to the theater. There weren't enough seats, so I sat in the aisle and alternated between leaning on Zsa and Teresa, both of whom thought the show was very, very weird. Morrison was the audience favorite and got to get married. I fell asleep about twenty minutes in, and when counselor Hannah and tutor Kaylee decided it would be just cruel to make me stay any longer when I was clearly very ill (read: wanted an excuse to take a cab back), we left.

Most of the Rickoids we walked past were out cold. Apparently movies about transvestites are not our favorite kind of entertainment.

We prefer Truth or Dare.

Oh, and before I forget: Hi, Bart.

It really is remarkable

Just how much work work manages to be. I remember next to nothing from these days, just a cloud of sleeping off sickness, infecting others (Dawson, I'm sorry), and reading paper after paper after endless paper.

Oh, and writing. That second milestone was a fair bit of work, I suppose, although I think a better chunk of the 13th was spent pretending to read S. Mckee's thesis on nuclear energy, which I never did get all the way through (although I did manage to forget to cite her half-life data. Whoops).

I'm going to say that this was the day that I walked to dinner with Jared and Bashir, because it will make for a more interesting post.

Bashir is the crazy Lebanese guy who works in my lab. He is, as I've said, crazy, but you will probably get more on that later.

Jared is Bashir's roommate. Jared is a big Asian guy from a big city (and I say big in a relatively loose sense of the word, because, while tall and muscle-y, he is still extremely skinny) who wears baggy t-shirts and long shorts and waves his arms and gesticulates in a manner suggesting a comfortable existence in a ghetto.

On this particular day, I walked out of the dorm with the pair of them.

"Why," asked Bashir, "are there no black people in RSI?"

Jared and I looked at him.

"There are not! I look, and I see black people, and they are all MITES. There are none here. Why are there no black people."

Jared looked pained.

"Why!" demanded Bashir.

"Well, there was supposed to be one, but his visa fell though, and he was, like, actually from Africa," I said.

"No, look, see," said Jared. "You can't just ask this shit."

"I just did. You say I cannot ask this, but then look! I do!"

"I think what Jared means is that it's not the sort of thing that one generally talks about. It's a sensitive subject."

"Yes! That's it. We don't talk about it. You just pretend that it doesn't exist."

"Why would I pretend that it doesn't exist when it so clearly does?"

"Because that's what you do," responded Jared. "You pretend, and then it just, I dunno, goes away."

"I'm not exactly certain that it--" I started.

"It will not go away. Look at your movies."

"What?" said both Jared and I.

"All the black people in the movies--they are stupid. Stupid. So stupid. They cannot talk, they cannot live, they cannot make money. They are poor and stupid. What am I supposed to think about black people here when all I see is 'blacks are dumb'?"

"SHUT UP! Bashir, don't let anybody hear you!" Jared looked worried.

"Well, what do black people do?" asked Bashir.

"I dunno, they play basketball," said Jared.

"I'm not sure that's the sort of thing you would think that you should be saying," I said.

"Shut up."

"Jared, I thought that you played basketball."

"I used to."

"Why'd you stop?" I asked.

"Were the black people better than you? Did they make your asian-boy look stupid?" asked Bashir, before beginning to laugh.

"Bashir, someone is going to hear you, and they are going to beat you up."

"No, they will not. The only one who will beat me up is you, and you won't, because you love me."

"I do not love you."

"You are my roommate. Of course you love me."

"You are so fucking crazy."

Bashir just laughed.

Because I know I will be too busy tomorrow...

Here is a video. It made me happy. Also, I found it by myself, without the help of Nyx. Not that I generally have the help of Nyx. Or Cammie, for that matter. No help at all.

Kick-Ass was, unsurprisingly, completely kickass

And Kickass should definitely be a single word. Spellcheck, I have no idea what you're talking about.

I realize that I should talk about prom, since it was last night. However, I've been busy, and I have a backlog of posts, so Kickass is getting its time.

I drove to the theater with Nyx, in separate cars as always, because we are good children who don't break the law. The best part of this is that I found this song on my ipod, which, even better, might possibly have the best music video ever.

I successfully parked, navigating through one of those booth things with a guy who gave me a little green ticket that I promptly lost.

We rushed in, as Camel had been frantically texting Nyx that we were going to miss the movie, only to discover that he was standing next to the ticket counter, hadn't yet bought tickets, and, when we made it in (without being carded as potential under-seventeens), the previews hadn't even started, and there were all of six other people in the theater. Before the film started, three more showed up: Jack and Bob (two of Camel's computer club buddies who coincidentally ended up at the same movie) and Richard, who was of course joining the three of us.

My favorite portion of the movie was how authentically awkward the geeky teens were. They didn't just have bad hair or glasses, although that they did. They just acted so awkward, making ridiculous faces, stating ridiculous convictions without a hint of irony...it was amazing. Yes, there was a fair amount of gratuitous violence, but it was still great. If you want a compendium of reviews, Jezebel had a good summary here.

After the movie, Nyx and boys wanted ice cream, so we walked around the downtown area looking for a place to get some. We walked far and wide, searching, down dark streets and streets with many lights, past bakeries and consignment shops, macking couples and gleeful friends, and still, we could find no ice cream. We surrendered and walked back towards the theater and the parking, at which point we discovered that there was an ice cream place right there, that we had, naturally, completely missed the first time around.

On leaving, I was pulled over by a police car before leaving the parking lot because my headlights weren't on. Then I realized that I didn't know how to put my head lights on, so I spent a minute or so messing with various buttons until something clicked and there was light. Then I went to leave the lot, but I had lost my green ticket, so I had to pay again for parking, but I looked so lost and confused that the people working there took pity on me and just let me leave.

Then I drove home and went to bed. What a great story.

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.

Gretchen and Tea add Kathrya to the Conversation

Gretchen: OMG, OMG, OMG.

Tea: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

Kathrya: hahahaaa

Gretchen: aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tea: AAAAH

Gretchen: AAAAHHHHHHHHHH

Kathrya: good god you two hahaa. It's not that big of a deal :)

Gretchen: YES IT IS!!!!!!!!!!

Kathrya: hahaa. It's just a first datee relax.

Gretchen: did he ask you out? What movie are you seeing? Are you excited? omg.

Tea: AAAAAH. I NEED DETAILS.

Kathrya: nah, we're watching movies at his plate, which was kind of the general plan, as Tea can say.

Gretchen: oh

Tea: TYBALT HAS A PLATE. OMG.

Gretchen: haha

Kathrya: Plate? What?

Gretchen: place*

Tea: You said plate. Got it. Wait. What were the precise circumstances?

Gretchen: Yes, do tell.

Kathrya: Okay, okay anyways we were going to watch movies, and then Ali texted me asking what chocolate I liked and then Tybalt texted me telling me he bought it, and then she told me he was going to ask me out tomorrow and we had a conversation which I think all got relayed to Tybalt, because eventually he just cut out the middle man, so no one said it straight out but now it's like a date. Does this make sense?

Tea: Dino is yelling at me for not telling him why I'm leaving, by the way.

Gretchen: haha.

Tea: Anyways, YAY KATHRYA!

Gretchen: Congrates :)

Kathrya: haha thanks.

Gretchen: that's so cute!! ahhhhh. This is more exciting than the Olympics.

Tea: AAAAAAH I KNOW!

Kathrya: hahaa

Tea: Gretchen and I have been going OMG for like EVER

Kathrya: really gus??

Tea: yes!

Gretchen: YES

Kathrya: hahaa. Well, I'm glad I can entertain you guys.

Tea: I'm going to need a big report afterwards. And also, Dino is still yelling at me.

Gretchen: Haha.

Kathrya: tell him to go away.

Gretchen: second. By thew way, do you (Kathrya) mind if we bug Tybalt when he signs onto fb.

Kathrya: uhmmmm yes. Feel free to do so after tomorrow though.

Tea: Okay.

Gretchen: ok

Kathrya: I feel like it's not official enough. I don't know, I'm fairly confused, cause he didn't say it straight out, but it like, is, so whatever.

Gretchen: When it's on facebook, it's official.

Tea: Don't put it on facebook, that's awkward.

Gretchen: I guess...not that I would know.

Kathrya: Well, it's just one date. We'll see. I sound like Avon.

Tea: Dino is now threatening to remove friendship. I wasn't aware we were friends.

Gretchen: Just tell him you're going to help your sister with something, or just tell him you have to go. The end.

Tea: But we're getting into a really good fight. It's fun? and BACK TO KATHRYA. AAAAHHH OMG OMG OMG OMG cough.

Gretchen: OMG OMG OMG OMG

Kathrya: I'll take it this means you approve?

TEa: YES DUHHHHHH.

Kathrya: hahaaa

Gretchen: Kath, you have no idea, Tea and I have been FREAKING OUT.

Kathrya: it's okay I was freaking out earlier. It went from OMGGGGGGGGG YAY to OHNOESWAH to COMMITTMENT PHOBE TIME to YAY. :)

Gretchen: Stay at Yay :)

Kathrya: I plan to.

Tea: Be married to someone else on fb, and then don't worry about it, because if it's not on fb...

Kathrya: hahaaaaa if it's not on fb then I have privacy.

Gretchen: Kathrya, will you marry me?

Tea: I PROPOSED FIRST. I DID. WITH MY SHIRT.

Gretchen: WHAT!?!?

TEA: SO THERE.

Kathrya: with your shirt.

Tea: HA. HA. HA.

Kathrya: SO TRUE

Gretchen: MINE WAS SO MUCH MORE OFFICIAL

Tea: MINE WAS FIRST

Gretchen: MINE WAS BETTER

Tea:AND WE LIVE IN A FOURTH DIMENTIONAL WORLD

Gretchen: ?

Tea: WHERE TIME FOLLOWS A MOSTLY LINEAR PATH AND WE CANNOT GO BACKWARDS BECAUSE WE ARE NOT FIFTH DIMENSIONAL BEINGS. BOOYAH!

Gretchen hey, does facebook let you marry more than one person?

Tea: polygamy.

Kathrya: No, it doesn't, stupid. I wish it did. But anyway, I just took my relationship status of facebook. I think that just solves a lot of problems.

Tea: I agree. Also, Dino is still yelling at me.

Gretchen: ABOUT WHAT??

Tea: WHAY DO YOU THINK

Gretchen: AMC? beach coverups?

Tea: I told him I was leaving, and he said why, I said can't tell, he says TELL ME, I say no, etc., for like ten minutes.

Gretchen: I'll tell him you're talking to me, and I'm hogging you.

Tea: NO. Then he'll think it's about you and Tybalt. Sorry.

Gretchen: Then suffer. WHAT!?!?! Did you mention Tybalt?!?!??!?!

Kathrya: what??

Tea: he says it's that KATHRYA HAS A CRUSH ON TYBALT. He came up with it by himself.

Gretchen: OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tea: What the hell am I supposed to say.

Kathrya: ommmmmmmmmg WHY IS HE TALKING ABOUT ITTTTTT

Tea: I don't fucking know.

Gretchen: DON'T SWEAR. just log out...

Tea: Then he'll think it's true.

Kathrya: just tell him it's none of his business and log out.

Gretchen: woah, I said log out first. Credit it to me.

Kathrya: Also, why do I feel like EVERYONE knew he liked me before I did.

Gretchen: :P

Tea: Oh, shit. I swore at him. Now he says Tybalt likes Kathrya.

Gretchen: Well, he's not wrong.

Kathrya: This is true.

Gretchen: Kathrya is very likable.

Tea: He blatantly just told me that Tybalt likes Kathrya, by the way, so he's clearly a crappy confidant, and I should have told him this sooner, because then you would have found out sooner.

Kathrya: Well, it's cuter this way. I like the Valentine's Day theme.

Gretchen: What's he saying now.

Tea: WHAT'S THE SECRET TEA? ROHO. ROJO. BASTARDO.

Gretchen: HAHAHA.

Tea: I responded with: TALK TO TYBALT. ROJA. BASTARDA. THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

Gretchen: Presuming he understood that much spanish.

Tea: We've devolved into all caps. I should probably just log out, but I'm enjoying myself way too much.

Kathrya: This is amusing. I vote stay put and keep us updated.

Tea: I think he's giving up. I need to give him something though. He's starting to stop responding.

Kathrya: Something what?

Tea: Am I allowed to end with him finding out or not? Because otherwise this is just cruel.

Gretchen: Well, he basically got it.

Tea: I just dropped a massive hint and he stopped responding.

Gretchen: My dad is playing dramatic classical music in his room and I can hear is and it totally fits!!!!!!!!

Kathrya: I like dramatic classical music.

Gretchen: It's Beethoven's fifth symphony. duh duh duh DUH.

Local Favorites

According to Netflix, in my town.

The Ramen Girl- unfortunately has nothing to do with alien ramen a la Orson Scott Card. Instead, Brittany Murphy goes to Japan. Looks weird.

SNL: The Best of Will Ferrell: I cannot believe there are that many people in this town who actually like him. I find that he grates on my nerves overmuch.

Free Willy: fortunately has nothing to do with male flashers. A heartwarming tale about a boy who graffitis an orca's tank.

Best in Show: I've actually seen this one, and it is actually fairly funny. I do not object.

Muppets in Space: while Cammie and Julie would no doubt approve, I am still somewhat shocked that the Muppets are this popular.

National Lampoon's Animal House: wait- National is lampooning a book that lampoons a government? Or does animal house mean something I'm not getting?

Thomas and Friends: Songs from the Station: People round here seem to really like putting their kids in front of a DVD.

Amadeus: did my chorus teacher force this on the entire population?

On the Waterfront: winner of eight oscars about a has-been boxer. Sounds... critically acclaimed.

Beverly Hills Chihuahua: no comment.

Scream: AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!

The Salton Sea: druggies work for cops. cool.

Flying Down to Rio: the cover art looks like LSD.

Man On Wire: for some reason, tightrope walking doesn't excite me the way it should.

Bolt: about a crazy computer animated dawg. Wait- dog.

Holiday in the Sun: This is a MARY KATE AND ASHLEY MOVIE. People still watch those?

Found Objects

in my A.P. English pocket divider that literally exploded last week:

• R-rated movie permission slip for Spanish class
• A New York Times Op-Ed article we analyzed about 4 months ago
• 1 sheet unreinforced blank notepaper
• 3 sheets reinforced blank notepaper
• 8 pages of museum synthesis prompt
• registration details for a science fair I'm not participating in
• 2 scoring commentaries written in incomprehensible handwriting (even worse than Peter's)
• Leo Africanus's description of Africans from Shakespearian times
• 4 pages of synthesis essay prompts
• The first page of Umber's research paper from last year about plastic bags
• an exemplar photocopy of my essay about pennies
• my actual essay about pennies
• the first chapter of Sarah Palin's book
• an 8 page packet on invasive species
• 2 more sheets of unreinforced notepaper
• a full transcript of Obama's speech on race
• 6 page packet on space exploration
• Othello 4.2.52-80
• the actual penny essay exemplar
• 10 page packet on pennies
• my entire A.P. English midterm

Why My Problems Are Puny

Well, I haven't got very many of them, for one thing. Just the typical constantly careening self-esteem of a teenager, lack of any sort of romantic anything ever, a relatively minor health issue, on and off anxiety, fairly frequent social paranoia, clumsiness and a severe case of the geeks. Well, that last one isn't so much a problem as a solution. And, all in all, none of those are particularly bad.

A lot of teenagers have horrible self-images, so the fact that mine sometimes is good is definitely a good thing. Lack of romantic anything ever is hardly unusual for a sixteen year old nerd. Thyroid problems are easily medicated. The anxiety I deal with. The social paranoia is vastly improved upon by large numbers of awesome friends. The clumsiness is cute. I mean, I'm 5'9", so I could probably do some serious damage and I probably look ridiculous, but I'm saying it's cute because it makes me feel better.

And geek is fun. As is nerd. And I'm probably more nerd than geek, anyways.

There is also the oft-recommended there-are-children-starving-in-Africa method. This is basically reminding yourself that somebody else has it worse. Watching The Kiterunner, for example, will do that to a girl. Because, seriously, at least I wasn't hunted down and killed or raped. Visiting the hospital also helps. I went to see Avon today. I drove on the highway, by myself I might add, and then crawled from the exit to the parking garage, trying desperately not to get hopelessly lost (I know the hospital is very visible, but roads are confusing!).

I finally got there. The people in the hospital are so nice, Avon included, but the whole experience is still somewhat terrifying. I mean, hospitals don't bother me- I'm very comfortable with hanging bags of blood and IV lines and people in scrubs. It's just I hate the idea of being so sick that one has to go to the hospital. Illness is so utterly random. I know that it's not, really, that it's the product of genes and of environment, that there are any number of things I could be doing to keep myself healthy, but there are still the totally confusing syndromes like ITP. Idiomatic Thrombocytosis Purpleosis, as I told Avon I call it. It's scary, the way people can be here one day and gone the next. I don't like to think about it too often. It's the lack of control that bothers me. I'd like to be able to say, unequivocally, that I'm going to live for 78.6 years, have 2.5 kids and 1.3 husbands, but I can't, and, sometimes, that terrifying thought seems like more of a problem than the whole list of the ones above.

Yes Man

I got home from school today utterly exhausted. There should not have been school today. I don't care how goddamned not-icy the roads were, the online snow day calculator gave me a 99% chance of snow day. I think the problem is the administration. Harsh doesn't begin to cover it. Our frog of a superintendent would simply prefer to pretend that snow doesn't exist. I think Becky's plan is the best- get into a car crash, and put your blood on his hands. Now, I probably will not actually do this, and likely neither will she, but I have a feeling that nothing short of a catastrophe could change the administrative opinion in question.

I just watched Yes Man, which basically consisted of a rubber-faced, not particularly attractive protagonist who never does anything because he's so insecure he thinks that as soon as people truly know him they'll just start hating. Then, he goes through some mystical self-help transformation and says yes to everything and finds his own manic pixie dream girl. The basic idea behind the Yes Man premise is that we shouldn't be letting opportunities pass us by, and if we'd just embrace it, our lives would be fuller and better and a whole host of other positive adjectives.

I can understand that, to a certain extent. I do think that one needs to be careful- there are people who say yes too often, who don't get their own homework done because they're too busy helping everyone else in the entire class, who give so much that they don't have anything left to hold as they fall asleep at night. I'm not sure I really have either of those problems. I mean, I do do some things. There are times when I say no, I'm too busy, no, I don't want to, no, I have a...thing, but most of the time, I do try to be somewhat open. After all, I know how depressing it is to not do anything.

When I was younger, I used to always have absolutely nothing planned for the first week of summer. I would veg, completely and totally, for that time period. Then, the year after fifth grade, all of my friends (granted, I only had three friends at the time, but this is beside the point) went to camp, and I was left alone. I did nothing for a week, and my clearest memory is of lying sprawled across the couch in the kitchen, moaning to my mother, "I'm soooo bored."

So, moral of the story, do stuff, because boredom is boring. On that note, I'm going to find something to do.

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.

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.

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.