HYE PEEPLE IM IN SKOOL!!11!
Crazy, huh? I never thought this day would come -- where I would actually take money out of my own pocket and pay those bitches to teach me. College is different from high school; I have to show up or my money's for shit. And for now, that's incentive enough for me. I'm doing all (most) of my homework, too. I’m…at a loss for words…as, I’m fairly certain, are all of you.
But then...instead of showing up at the beginning of one of my classes, I showed up at the end. I guess it’s comforting to know that some things will never change; my impeccable punctuality for one. Damn. That was awkward.
[peers through window]
Mari’s Head: Hunh. The classroom’s dark…maybe I’m too early. Guess I’ll just wait. Hum de dum.
[classroom lights go on]
Oh hey, that’s my cue! I bet I’m the first one!
[opens the door]
.
.
.
.
Crap-rats.
[takes the only empty seat -- at the front]
I realized my little predicament before I stepped in, so I played it off real nice. I played like I had a pounding headache because of some grown-up altercation I had before coming in (you see, that’s what held me up) and absolutely, under no circumstances, was I to be disturbed or looked at strangely…or blood, yours, was inevitable. So, I sat down -- that is, with a plump -- shot out my feet and glowered. Prettily? Or maybe menacingly.
Pre-nacingly.
The other scenario I had in mind was, you know, I’d come walking in with my jacket all askew, one of my shoes missing, my bag on the floor being ostensibly dragged behind me... I had, obviously, just been in a Brutal Ninja Battle. All is forgiven, your tardiness is excused. Here’s what you missed, Miss Mari. No penalties, I, your professor, understand that the World of the Ninja is something that cannot be grasped by even my scholarly intellect. But then I figured... nah.
Oh, and then I ended up arriving 'bout an hour early the next time. Come on, man.
(9:05 and 9:50 are the same in the morning when your eyes are crusted shut.)
Had I been back in Texas, Lindsey would be shaking her head; Gin would be going, “Oh, Mari!” and possibly sigh dramatically; Alicia would be corporally punishing me and Joy, like Lindsey, would be shaking her head and looking skyward, her theist self. Mystic elephant...Oh God, my heart, it hurts.
So, anyway, on a completely irrelevant note:
Josh Lucas. Hot. His eyes, man, they’ll drown you. That's Josh. Not George. I'm not too sure about George.
Paul Newman?
Why am I so sexy?
I'm pretty. My eyes.
PUPPY!
I have dimples. Splooge.
hey, it's Cary Elwes! mmm, dimples...
you know, Westley.... [The Ignorant!: Ohhhhhhh...]
and just because I can...
eyessssszahzahzah...
Oh yes, and because someone was curious as to how I broke into my house and later my relatives' house, here's you a little anecdote.... or two:
So, I was out in the boondocks where Trolls, whose deeds are too dreadful, too monstrous, too numerous to recount, reign supreme and where lost wanderers, most innocent and fresh, are captured and then -- through a slow, torturous process -- transformed into trollish mind-numbed minions ready to do their new masters' biddings (the facility with which they do them, however terrible, causes me great sadness). Knowing if I did not act soon my fate would be as bleak and dark as theirs, I ran. To what destination? I did not know, I just knew that 'Anywhere but here' was as good an answer as any. So I ran and ran, the baneful sounds of the forest amplified by my heightened senses, until I could run no longer...
Then I saw it. Amidst the dark, twisted wilderness, a haven of sunlight. Well, it was bathed in sunlight, anyway -- looked like a piece of shit, really. Point is, Trolls cannot bear the caress of sunlight on their foul hides, for it burns their flesh like an infernal fire. So, good sanctuary. But further contemplation on its goodness was interrupted by a gluttural howl in the distance, which chilled the core of my very being. The bastards were close. With swift feet, I ran towards my sanctuary and pulled on what appeared to be the knob on what appeared to be the door.
But it. Would. Not. Budge!
Blah, blah, blah... writing allegory is hard. Let me just give it to you straight.
Okay. So, I'm skipping school. My house is right across the street. Real nice. But I don't have the house key since The Banshee is usually home by the time I get back. So, I go 'round back so people won't see me breaking into my house... because people wouldn't know that, the "my" part. So, to describe the back door. First there's the jail gate; I like to call it that because it's basically a series of vertical bars and then a knob. Attached behind is a screen. So, first obstacle: I need to unlock it from the other side somehow (because I've already tried the paperclip/hairpin method and how the hell do they that do that, anyhow?). I start looking for a sharp object. Fortunately, not too long ago, my dad broke a large mirror while trying to get it out of the house. I was assigned the uneviable task of cleaning up; shockingly, there was debris left! So, I pick up a shard shaped like the blade of a scythe, walk towards the jail gate and as cleanly as I can, make a slit in the screen next to the lock. Luckily, I have long fingers, so I take the longest one -- the middle -- stick it through the slit (this is beginning to sound vaguely sexual) and stretch it out as far as I can until I'm able to turn the little knob enough to unlock it (and release the torrential passions within!). Forever, man. So, next obstacle: the other door. This one is a little less sternuous in undoing, thanks to the window in the middle. Trying to train the dog on the opposite side on how to unlock the door proves a fruitless endeavor (beat her later). So, what I do instead is spit on my hands, put my palms flat against the window and push up. Pushing out would be bad, possibly destructive. (I was aiming for discretion.) Few tries later, I successfully push it up. I essentially punch out the screen behind it because, damnit man, what else? I reach my hand through the door, unlock it, and walk in. (The screen was unharmed and I was able to put it back, none the wiser.)
Whoo, windy.
Second time. Short and sweet. Came home late; around 3:00a. Relatives assumed had key. No. Did not. All windows downstairs locked; all doors locked. Windows on second story unlocked. Brilliant. I take ladder. Put ladder against house. Climb it and onto roof. Pitch black. Cannot see damn thing. Go to nearest window. Spit on hands. Push up. Several more tries. This rich house -- sturdily built. Opens. Jump in. Close window. Head for bed. Next day, relatives inquire about ladder against roof. O Fuck! Look at me. Look at them. My ass: grounded because what did was so dangerous! The fuck? Am ninja, damnit! Will never fall off roof; can see 'spite darkness, etc. Assholes.
END.
PS I need to find a water tower. Man, I miss those open ranges in Texas; taking all those road trips to Garner State and Perdenales Falls. The Morgan family's ranch. Miami's all right, I s'pose. If you like beaches, which I don't. Sand up the ass and all.
PPS I also realize I said I'd update this thing more frequently. So, let me apologize yet again for my extended absence. I'm just a very busy and important person. I lie, but I have my reasons. Oh wait, I AM busy. And oh wait, I AM MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOU. This excuse is legit.
. . .
PPPS I joined the gym.