A Weak Week
Hmmm.
This was a pretty bland week.
I was supposed to have Act I of Death of a Salesman read by Monday and...uh...well, let's just say that it hasn't been until now that I've decided to actually become a "senior" and become...well...you know..."dumb". As I type these words, I have yet to finish the act, and he's now expecting us to have Act II read by Monday, and do the corresponding Study Guide questions.
Oooh, boy.
Gotta do that whole reading thing. That thing we do in English. Yeah.
Monday, I discovered my distant sister from another mother, and her name is Stephanie...well, maybe not sister. More like my male half. Like the male reincarnation of the Seanness. It's like this:
1. We're both Scorpios. (OMG!)
2. We were born nine days apart (of course, adding an entire year, too).
3. We both have half older brothers that we hardly ever see for various reasons.
4. We both have fathers who are the anti-Christ.
5. We both have mothers who hate our fathers for being the anti-Christ, and both our mothers want to castrate our fathers.
It's awesome. w00t. ::high fives my male counterpart::
Tuesday was the most exciting day of the week. First of all, a blizzard ambushed us all. And, blizzards being blizzard, they're always fun and stuff...but, because of that, Jill's Writing Cafe was cancelled for the 3840298th time. Yes. That's right, people: the 3840298th time. That's the 3840297 more times too many. This thing needs to start already. >_< So help us God if the world magically decides to end Tuesday. If anything, let it end on Monday. Monday's suck, anyway.
So, all went to Mike's house: me, Sandra, Chris, Jill, Gil, and, of course, the Muffin Man, himself. We took the bus, since it's the 30 and it's awesome and everything but, when we all got to Montefiore, the traffic was horrendous...and just plain impossible. We were literally at the same stoplight for about a half hour, because, every time the light turned green, there would be traffic blocking the bus, still. So, Gil was all "OMFGWTFHAREWEDOINGHEREONTHISBUSWHENWECANWALKLETSWALKLETSGONOWNOWNOOOOOW!" so we were all "Calm down, you hyperactive Oompa Loompa, we're disembarking!" So, we reluctantly disembarked the lovely warm bus and braved the blizzard for the rest of the approximately 8 blocks (for some weird reason, I almost typed "miles"...God forbid). Yes. It was quite an adventure. We fought ferocious winds that spat snow at our face and into our eyes, winds that robbbed the warmth from our faces. Then, when we were on his very block, somebody, somewhere, somehow, either summoned Shiva, herself, or cast Blizzaga, because a WILD, FIERCE WIND came from NO where. Sandra's umbrella died, Jill was buried under a mound of snow, and my hat was blown back about five blocks. It was awesome. And funny. And painful. x_x
But funny! =D
We played games and ate pizza. Sandra and Jill had a great time being ignored by Chris and Gil, who were fiercely engaged in a monstrous war in this game called "War of the Monsters". Then, in Smash Brothers, Mike and Chris earned the name "Bacon Boys". This one character, called Mr. Game and Watch, has this anti-air attack in which he hurls a never ending stream of bacon in the air. It's cool. It's awesome. It's funny. And, moreover....
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT'S BAAAAAAAAAAAAACOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!
Okay...now that the corniness has subsided...
Mike has an interesting room. Its colors remind me of the waiting room of a pediatrician. A green and purple kinda theme. And he has a lamp that reacted to touch! TOUCH! It's awesome! I tapped it more than a drum and rose his electric bill by a few dollars! Mwahahahahahahaha!!
Wednesday, I went into a coma.
Thursday was the beginning of a busy end-week. Philosophy and Math test having been tomorrow. Mrs. Torres then added to that by declaring herself the Grand Poo-Bah of English Creative Writing and thereby banishing poetry in any and all forms, be it read, written, or studied. However, being the self-proclaimed "slightly reasonable" person she was, she was willing to hear defenses for poetry. It was an opportunity to exhibit my excellent lawyer skills and newly learned Logic skillz. Mwahahahaha. I think I'll type my defense up. That day, I also made this rather humorous journal entry, of which I shall post.
Friday: Creative Writing was hilarious. It was like a comical court room. Mwahahahaha.
That Philosophy test wasn't so bad. I got an 84. That's a B, baby. A B. I owned. Or, rather, I bwned. Yes. I bwned. This means nobody can argue with me, lest I twist their mind like a lil' pretzel with my awesome, newly learned, ellusive Logicness. Can't touch this.
Math was........easy? o_O
...Did I just type that?
::looks:: o_o
Yeah. Well, I guess it was. I answered everything (OMG!) and I believe I got everything but one question right (OMGOMG!).
Aaaaaaaand...after school sucked.
Everyone was in the library only for about...fifteen minutes. Then, everyone, their mother, and God had to go to play practice...everyone but that tiny .0000000001% of everyone, which went off and did their own thing, and, of course, I had to be in Band for a brief meeting, so, when I got back, everyone was--gone. Like they disappeared. Therefore, I was officially alone. Pretty anti-climatic end to a bland week. This is why I hate play practices on Friday: the fact that it's a play practice on FRIDAY. Hmph. Then, I momentarily felt a little down again over not having any part in the play whatsoever--since I genuinely wanted to do something in it, and since the fact that everyone else is doing something in it makes me feel left out--which resurrected some good ol' Silva animosity. But, it was a transitory gripe. It didn't ruin my entire day or anything. In six months, I'll be in college, where the production and the auditorium will be bigger and better, the plays will be more plentiful, and the direction will (hopefully! >_<) be a lot friendlier.
So, whatever.
And, I'm here, typing this, at 5:37AM. And, just the same, you're here, reading this.
This means we both have no life! =D
Hmm.
Disclaimer: I just felt like being random, so I ranted on about 1337n355 (sounds like something Gil would do, huh?). I don't care for 1337 whatsoever. Just felt like being silly. = \
If I were ruler of the world?
Mwahahahahahahahahahahahahaha...
Aaah, yes. If I were ruler of the world.
If I were ruler of the world, my rules would be the following: I call them the Scripture of Sacred Seanity:
1. I'm awesome.
2. I am 1337.
3. From this moment onward, the 1337 shall speak and write in beautiful, illustrious 1337. All who do otherwise shall be persecuted, prosecuted, shot, and eaten.
4. You're a n00b.
5. From now on, all of those below the 1337 shall be referred to and known as n00bs. Thus, there shall be the 1337 and the n00bs. n00bs may only speak n00bspeak, so as to distinguish the 1337 from the lowly n00bs.
Oh, yeah. Bush would be banned from office. He's the biggest n00b ever.
[me taking idea from someone else who read their journal before me] Oh, yeah. Good idea, Alex: I'd ban Math, too. Math sucks.
Oh, yeah. And, if you're wondering, yeah: I read these out loud. I'm special.
I'm gonna go to bed and dream myself a dream.
::walks off, whistling Mr. Sandman::