Today was one of those rare decent days, despite the recently discovered fact that someone sent a certain someone three angsty love notes in the sixth grade, using my name. It was kind of awkward when we discussed this today. I was absolutely livid. But, nevermind. Inner peace. Bliss. Omn. Close your eyes, cross your legs, chant; in left nostril, out right. Drink break. Continue.
It's weird, but you know how sometimes you see something remotely funny and you just break out into uncontrollable hysterics even though it wasn't even that funny? Well, I HATE IT when that happens. Hate. Sadly, it takes practically nothing to set me off. No kidding. It was like circa summer school, when Mrs. Morgan had this picture of male genitals. I don't remember why, but I started snickering. Then I remembered something funny that happened a long time ago, something about a hot dog and a penis, I forget, but I started laughing. And I was the only person doing so. Phillomina and Carmina were exchanging looks, and I bet Mrs. Morgan was thinking, "You're a freshman now! Be more mature!" But the thing is, I wasn't even laughing at the male testes anymore! The irony! Aha. See, I'm cracking up even as I type this. There's no hope for me. Laugh. On the bright side, it doesn't take much to cheer me up. On the other bright side, I can amuse myself easily, so no worries on me being bored.
French was coolish today, despite me stuttering Chicago's weathers and seasons in broken French, and the Scapin preview was funny so I'll probably go see it. English went by suprisingly quickly, if you could call it fast. And video production was actually okay today, even though I smashed my finger trying to retrieve my bag of Sunchips (a prop) from the stupid, vending machine. I did get it out in the end, and enjoyed its cheesy goodness with Wynnie in case anyone was wondering. (I doubt)

Daily Dedications:

1. Even though I know I of all people shouldn't be talking, but the past is the past. I know you think of me as a weirdo, whatever, but let's just forget this all.

2. I don't know, but my senses tell me that something unpleasent is going to happen at Millie's tommorow. If I go that is.

3. Why do I also feel like I'm after everything else?

4. Geez. Chill. Breathe. If you keep it like this, people are seriously going to think your homosexual. Or just waaay to clingy.

5. Do I really have to bleach my hair first? It's just one little chunk!

I gave myself a trim over the weekend. I think I mentioned it in my previous post. I forget. No one really noticed but Tricia. Is that good? Or bad? Heh. I don't know. Anyway, I wish I had a threadbare blazer. I would wear it over everything. With those lovely wingtip oxfords I'll probably never find. If I chop my hair off and stuff a pair of socks down my pants, then I'll practically be a man. Oi.