Thursday, October 03, 2002
Aaaaaa! Stop beating me! Stop beating me! I'm sorry! I'll blog more often! I promise! Aaaaah!
You wouldn't understand anyways. *sniff*
My glorious visage was gracing the papers recently. Yeah, I looked a little goofy, but so did everyone in the picture. Such is life, non?
Um... o dear... it has been a little long, hasn't it?.... there's so very much to talk about...
The other day we were in biology and our teacher had this egg that she was showing us. It was rubbery and gooshy. She said that she had soaked it in vinegar to make the shell come off but leave the membrane on, so it was a raw egg without a shell. It was pretty cool. She said that she would break it for us at the end of class. So at the end of class she said "Hey, do you guys want to break this egg and see what's in it?"
Then she accidentally dropped it onto AJ's desk, and raw egg yolk and raw egg white and raw egg goo went flying all over the place and AJ lurched foward shouting "My stuff! My bag! My stuff!" and Ms. Holm-Anderson was standing there laughing, and egg was dripping everywhere. It was really funny.
Hum de dum. De dum.
Worked on the mural... we started painting the bits of it that are supposed to be floor.... unfortunately, we chose a color for that floor that is rather flesh-like in tone. In consequence, the people in the mural now appear to be standing on skin, a stomach perhaps. Not quite the effect we were going for. Oh well, all shall be rectified in time. In time.
Wrote a college essay today. It has a 500 word maximum, and it's 589 words. That's cut down from around 640. Damn. Damn. Dunno what I'm going to do. I can only hope that my english teacher has some insights into reductionism.
Oh, we had the weirdest english sub in the history of weird english subs today. This guy was either drunk, or high, or both. Or he could have been slightly impaired mentally. Anyways, he was so bizarre. He kept making all these hand signals... like he would ask us to be quiet, and he would do that yapping motion with his hands, you know? Freaky.
Then he got up in the middle of the class and said "I'm sorry to interrupt you kids, but I have a story to tell you." He then proceeded to tell us this long, rambling story about the potato famine in Ireland, and this guy who went to jail, and wrote all these poems there, and then got shipped to Austrailia, and then came to Boston, and then got a statue made near Fenway Park. It was like a 20 minute story, and it had nothing to do with anything that we were doing. He just randomly got up and started telling us this potato famine story. It was the very height of weirdness. Nothing compares.
Then when he finished his story, he wrote a love poem on the board. It was about red and white roses and passion. I kid you not. This is a substitute teacher. So he wrote a love poem on the board, and then he sat down. And the class was freaked out. And it was bizarre.
Really, really, highly unnatural substitute teacher behavior.
Father was on that Connie Chung show tonight. He was talking about the shoe bombing person. I don't really know why, because he is not in any way involved with that case, but what the heck. I watched it. He did fine right up until the end, and then he was making a particular point and his eyes bugged out and it was funny and me and my brother laughed.
Ha ha ha. Hee.
I really like Camus. He is existentialist, y'know. And, contrary to popular opinion, existentialism is very much not a depressing doctrine. It is highly individualistic, yes, but not necessarily depressing.
Thinking about getting the Luce CD.
Also thinking about going to Portfolio Day on Sunday.
Also thinking about taking my Psych notes.
Also thinking about running out into the street and screaming, "Walruses of the world- UNITE!!!" as loudly as I can.
Well. Maybe not.
By the joyful shouts emanating from the basement, I think that my brother has won another game of ping pong over my Dad. This games are now nightly, loud, and violent. Very, very violent.
Alors, je departe.