13:09 - 2004-05-19
A Surrepticious \"Hello\"
Shhh, be vewy vewy quiet. I'm making an entry from school. It took me about three hours to get this laptop to boot up, but I still thought, "Hmm, why not make a diary entry? I'll only get in some sort of trouble, right?"
So here's what's going on: The black girls in my class are loudly conversing about Lil Bow-Wow and working on the corner. This is a familiar-sounding conversation. Maybe that's because I heard it YESTERDAY, and the DAY BEFORE THAT. In fact, I'm pretty sure they were talking about this stuff seven years ago when I went to daycare with 'em. They sure do say shut-up a lot. It's slightly ironic, considering they never do. ^_~
(No, don't get excited. I'm not racist, just annoyed. And I'm not going to pretend it isn't irritating simply because racial differences exist. Wheehoo! Check me out my aggressive display of opinion!)
Summer is to begin veeeery soon. I can smell it. I once described the smell as similar to that of "chlorine and tropical drinks" and I still think that's pretty accurate.
This project I am doing requires me to make a big, informative poster about my life in 10 years. It asked me all kinds of questions on this rubric about how many kids I was going to have, etc, and frankly, I couldn't help thinking, "I'm not even MARRIED yet, how could I possibly be thinking about kids? I barely even think about what my life will be like in two weeks, much less 10 years...."
I explained my dilemma to my teacher, and she said, "Well, just for instance. You don't necessarily have to make all those decisions final right now."
And I said, "Good," and got started immediately on putting together a very "for instance" Poster of the Future.
It's actually slightly realistic, in a couple of areas, but makes up for that by being not-so-realistic in all the others:
I dress like Beldandy, apparently, I ride a chupacabra to work, I live in a cave, I eat nothing but Milano cookies and spaghetti (piled with cheese ^_^), for long distances I drive an '85 Toyota Celica with a paint job similar to that of the Mach 5, and there's a guy in the picture of my couch who has the head of a golden retriever.
All of this is based on a truly fabricated true story.
She fused and fussed at me for that cave though. It was like World War III. "YOU ARE NOT GOING TO LIVE IN A CAVE!" But it's cool in thre, Mrs Will! I can get electricity, and basic cable, and no worries about door-to-door salesmen! and maybe from time to time, unsuspecting mobsters will hide their loot in there. She didn't buy any of those excellent reasons. But It hink the project was mostly to see where you'd be financially in 10 years, so I added an average mortgage on my cave. That was a good compromise, and she went along with it. But then I had to change a bunch of stuff in my paper work (which there was a pile of). And for some reason, I am incapable of simply changing one or two things on a sheet of paper without messing up in one way or another. *sighs, puts face into hands exasperatedly* I must've gone through twenty of those Budget Analysis pages, and at least ten of the Housing/Transportation ones...And later, I winced as one of the other people needed a new one and there weren't any left. D'oh...Oh well, I suppose. At least Roxy will be pleased that I put all the nonsense she gave me on my board ^_^ Roxy sits ahead of me in Mr Donovan's class. I think, we might not have been very good friends in any other environment, but Mr Donovan forces us to band together to protect ourselves. So Roxy and I talk about Evangelion, and mock Mr D for telling us to stop "skylarking around". Sometimes Roxy is serious, and slightly anal about things. Not unkind, just...very particular about what is an isn't correct. Thank goodnes she has some morals though, and isn't ridiculously liberal. But other times, she is very loopy and funny. These are the times when she writes on my paper: "Graded by Roxy Hasty and Your Mom" and draws a little picture of herself and my mother holding hands because they "graded it together!" It's probably more entertaining because Mr Donovan is driving us out of our minds. So, when I was cutting out the pictures ahead of time, so I could glue them on my poster, she helped me by putting a little Balloon-headed fellow inside my car and by decorating it like the Mach 5 (Speed Racer's car). I have this little alien thing from Roswell. It's supposed to be a pencil-topper and it looks like an alien head with little springy arms coming out of it. His name was Louis, and I assume it still is, but Roxy drew lipsstick and nail polish on him, and gave him a hat that says TRANS on it...Poor Louis.
Uh oh, gotta go...Be right back. <--probably also a lie
