Guidance Counselors.

I hate guidance counselors. With a passion. I have very few run-ins with them, but of those I have learned to NEVER, EVER trust a guidance counselor. They are just there to further their reputation in the field. To the detriment of the students. We have two guidance counselors at my school, Mrs. W and Mrs. C. They are EVIL. First about Mrs. W. Freshman need to be warned about her. On several occasions, she has taken stories my friends have told her and twisted them so she can say that they need some kind of medication or have some brainular disease and need help. When CLEARLY they don't. And, to add to that, once I was having a bad day (just a little stressed(Which,is normal; EVERYONE gets that way every once and a while)) and instead of helping me, she sent me off to an English teacher to get me organized. It wasn't helpful. And on top of that, the teacher didn't get me organized, she just stressed me out more. It sucked. (Worst Day EVER).

Next, about Mrs. C., once....You know what, you don't care. And I don't feel like writing that down. And besides you aren't allowed to know because I said so. So there HA! Just know that she was a Butt-wipe. (Yes, I went there) =).

Anyways, all of this is important BECAUSE....

Today, my friend Mary (Ally, not in our grade) and I decided to make fun of Mrs. W all through-out Sportz Skillz. Quite amusing. We started out by drawing random pictures. You know, when you would draw something, then they would add on to it, then you would add to that, etc. Well, the resulting pictures were seriously disturbed. Then we decided that we would act like Mrs. W and try to interpret the pictures. So, we said the roots of the trees were the "Disturbed child"'s mom. (By the by, we named this "disturbed child", Laña) And the belly-button being misplaced meant that she hates her body. ETC. The list went on and on. Next time, we are going to write down Laña's story so, "we can help her get her story out, and to help the world." Needless to say, it was a very amusing class period. and we got quite a few chuckles out of that. So much so, we got into trouble.

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*OKay, so in my mind, that story came out a lot better. Sorry my story telling sucked so badly today. I hope it improves tomorrow. Adios mis conocimientos. (Suppose to say acquaintances, but I'm not sure if it does. It could be a curse word for all I know.) Have a nice life and until next time...

"However mean your life is, meet it, and live it; do not shun it and call it hard names."

~ Henry David Thoreau

Refreshing.

There's a British singer I just discovered. Her name is Kate Nash. And her song Foundations is fantastic. Refreshingly new. Listen.

I think it's good. And sort of funny.

A Video For You.

This is a music video for Michael Buble (it has an accent on the e, but I don't know how to do that). The song is I'm Feeling Good. And I love the James Bond-y feeling of it. And just to point out, I really like Michael Buble (`). He's good at the old-timey sexiness that is totally awesome. He usually takes old songs form like the 50's or so and remakes them. And does a good job of it. Very Suave. yum. =)

(* When I am talking about his sexiness, I am talking about his voice. I am not sure what I think of his looks yet. I'll get back to you on that.)

A Story to Make You Giggle. (Hopefully)

Not sure how funny this will be. In fact, it might be a "you had to be there" story, but I will do my best, so all parties not present may enjoy. Here goes:

My lunch table has very interesting conversations. In fact, if you are under the age of eight, you must stop reading this immediately. One day we got on the subject of our teachers, and it all went downhill from there. We were saying how a couple of our teachers have kids our age, but they don't look like they should. Our history teacher, for example, looks like she's 29, but her kids are our age, and she's actually like forty-something. Our chemistry teacher has white hair, but has kids our age. We said, she should be a grandma.

A said, "She should have just skipped over the mother process and become a grandma."

Then K pointed out, "That's not possible."

To this A said, "They could have been made in a Petri dish." (Side note, this is amusing because it's our chemistry teacher. In case you missed that.)

So, I joined in, "The kids made in the Petri dish would still be her children."

A said, "Well then, inside the Petri dish, the eggs could make eggs and then those new eggs would be her grandkids."

I said, "That doesn't work because the second eggs don't exist until AFTER the KIDS go through puberty." (Not pointing out that you also need sperm, preferably not sperm of a relative (i.e. a brother or something made in the Petri dish also.))

A said, "Well, they could be mutated."

I said, "THAT doesn't work either."

A pleaded, "Couldn't you have let me have just that one?"

A little while later...

C comes over and is leaning on my lunch box, saying how squishy it is.
I say, "Well, what if you were squishing something in there?"
C: "Am I?"
Me: "No."
Then, M moves my lunch box and puts her open salad dressing packet where my lunch box was. Naturally, C leans down on that. Orange stuff squirts out EVERYWHERE. We start laughing because A points out that it looks like vomit. Then, she goes on to say that it looks like her dog's vomit. And finally, she says that once her dog vomited near her bed and now there is a green stain where is occured. At this point, grape soda is spewing out of M's nose and mouth and has covered a nice portion of our table. Needless to say, she runs and gets napkins and cleans it up. But, that was one of the funniest lunches I have ever been present at.

Potatoes.

Yes, you read right. I said potatoes. What are you going to do about it?

At the moment, I am trying to ascertain the answers to four or five impossible Pre-Calculus problems from hell. She does them in class and they look easy, but NO they're not. They just sit there on the page, laughing maniacally at you, while you punch into your calculator every possible number arrangement that exists, only to come up with 26 when the answer is 367. And then you get to class and she works them out for you and you're like "oHHHHH!" (And you feel rather dumb). THEN, to make matters worse, she says, "These are so easy, why can't you get them?" And you think she is asking a rhetorical question, but then you realize that she isn't, so you mumble something until she is satisfied with whatever (small amount of) answer that actually reaches her ears. And she's like, "We'll do some more later." And you think GREAT! (While you cry silently). Anyways that's my rant on pre-calculus.

Now for more happier news. Um...Oh! I am reading a new book. Actually I have four books all lined up for me to read. I am excited. The one I'm reading now is a biography of Audrey Hepburn. It's called Enchantment The Life of Audrey Hepburn* by Donald Spoto. And for anyone who knows me, this is/should come as no surprise. I love Audrey Hepburn. She is wonderful. (Ally, we HAVE to watch Breakfast At Tiffany's one weekend. It is a must.) Anyways, I figured since I love her so much, I should read her biography. At the moment, it is boring. (And as Tori pointed out, most biographies are, but I resolve to stick with it.) And also, I haven't even gotten to the point of her birth. That might be why it is so boring; she doesn't even exist yet. (Shows how slow I read. I just don't have time, otherwise I would probably be done with it by now.)

The next book I am going to read is, the third Nancy Drew novel. I know, I know, lame. When I was younger, I tried to read the first one and did not like it. But, for some strange reason, I like them now. I have only read the first one, and the book store didn't have the second, so I went for the third. I am told you don't have to read these books in order. Which is good.........

Next is a book called Cross My Heart and Hope to Spy. I want to say the author is Ally Carter, but don't quote me on that. It's the sequel of a book about a girl who is attending a private school, but it's for spies and such. (Called I'd Tell You I Love You, But Then I'd Have To Kill You.) I thoroughly enjoyed it. It was cute. Not sure what the sequel is about, I guess I will have to find out. I actually do not have said book in my possession because it has yet to come out in paperback. And it's not the kind of book one would want in hardback.

And finally, whenever my parental unit gets around to retrieving the book from the office. I am going to read the ninth Stephanie Plum novel. YAY! (If you are a late reader of my blog, go to earlier posts and you can get the synopsis of these books.)

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(*big surprise there.)
(P.S. Sorry du-Loque, I had to steal your star thing. Just for this one time. The post wouldn't look right if it was next to the wordage. Lo siento.)

Some Kind Of Grown-Up Disease.

OKay, I think we have a problem. I think I have some kind of Parental Unit-disease. This weekend I baked. BAKED?!?!?!?! I don't really like cooking, except every once in a while. This weekend I made Glazed Lemon Cakes. And Caramelized Apples & Biscuits. (They have both tasted perfect, if I do say so myself.) Also,I have been enjoying food and chocolate like mad. You know I love food. But, I have NEVER enjoyed food this much. It's weird. Then, this afternoon I went to the fabric store. (Don't ask why; I just did ok?) And I decided I wanted to sew. Maybe make a purse out of upholestry fabric. I think it would be very cute. But, what worries me is that I don't do this kind of thing. It's odd. Then, I decided it must be something wrong about the alignment of the planets or something. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

*Sigh*

Hi. Today is a good day. I think. My last exam was today. And my vocal chords are all warmed-up to sing Pieces of Me (Don't worry, I actually had to look that up. I don't know her music. As you can probably tell.) or For He's A Jolly Good Fellow (which ever Alex chooses). I'm going to a dance tonight. I think it might be fun. Quizzicals will comence momentarily. At the moment I am letting my brain turn into a puddle to drain out of my ear later tonight. Television is a beautiful invention. Now what? I have an extremely lOOOOng weekend ahead of me and NOTHING to do. Any suggestions?

My Weak Side.

At the moment, I am drawing. Which, I don't do very often; and when I do, I expect full support from everyone around me. As is with writing poetry. Personally, I think I write very good poetry. Sure, it needs a little work, but what doesn't? I expect anyone who is listening to my poetry to sit there contently, and when I am finished I will allow you as many compliments as you want, and after that, you are allowed ONE negative/editing statement. That's it, no more. If you choose not to use up your free token of negativity, then you can use it to buy a pair of lederhosen later.

But, as you know, that system only exists in fantasy. So, I am stuck here allowing anyone to say anything they wish. It is a free country after all. Go ahead, say whatever you are thinking in that brain of yours. I won't stop you.

Now, understand. I do not mind editorial comments on my writing skills. Everyone knows I am not a good writer. I don't even like writing. Well, I do, but only when I'm not being graded on some screwed-up scale that measures how many times you used figurative language in a sentence. English is not my strong point. I am 100% a math and science nerd. And proud of it.

You know, one day I might put up some poetry, just to see who does what to it. It'll be a free for all. Like my very own peace treaty. I don't know. I'm still mulling it over.

Arby's.

So, A P.U. and I went to Arby's the other night and ordered deluxe baked-potatoes. Which, I love. We get home to eat and look at our food. And instead of the deliciousness we are used to, with the cheese and the sour cream and the bacon bits and the little green things; we get this shriveled potatoe with minimal cheese and sour cream. I don't even get to enjoy the little green things. They don't exist on this thing Arby's is trying to pass off as a potatoe. I look at the P.U. and say: (In an English accent)

"This is no deluxe baked-potatoe; this is just a semi-improved baked-potatoe."

The P.U. thought this highly amusing. I chuckled myself.

Rhetorical.

Have you ever noticed how in Spanish, there are so many more rhetorical questions in conversation than in English? They say "¿No?" All the time. There are other examples, but I can't think of any. I planned this post a while ago, when I had a few more examples. Sorry.

Creepy Thought.

So, a couple of days ago, I was studying for my biology exam and my parental unit sadi something that totally creeped me out. Everything in the universe is made-up of potential reactions. What happens when they all have occured? There is nothing. Just dead. NO universe. NO Earth. NO stars. NO planets. NO nothing.
It scared the crap out of me.

Lo Siento.

Understand. I am not ignoring you guys. Or have died. Promise. I am just way to busy to write. For the next two weeks, I will try to write, but I can see it's not going to happen. I am sorry. Mid-terms and homework and Robotics and Zumba and life take up too much of my life to do anyting else. I will be back. (I sound like Arnold Schwarzenegger, "I'll be back") I promise. Well, back to the chain gang. Me and homework, we are one. Adios.

I'm Supposed To Be Doing My Homework.

So, update on my procrastination techniques. I painted my nails today. No, you don't understand why that is funny. So, let me enlighten you. About a year ago, everytime Ally would talk to me, I would say, "Guess what I'm doing?" and the answer would always be, "I'm painting my nails." It got to the point of when I would say, "Guess what I'm doing?", she would say, "What color?" Then, I would say whatever color that I happened to be applying to my nails at the moment. Blue, pink, green, purple, various shades of the colors previously mentioned, orange, etc. This lasted about 6 months, until I got bored with it. Or was it that I couldn't wear electric green to my relative's wedding? I can't remember. I think it clashed with my dress.

Well, the only reasons I paint my nails are because 1.) I bite my nails and I don't when they are painted; 2.) I love looking at my PAINTED nails (sounds sketchy, but you try it sometime. They are lovely.); 3.) My nails GROW!!!!; 4.) They are a good defense mechanism; and 5.) why do you even need a fifth, those are reason enough.

So, I've started up again. I don't know how many colors I am going to go through this time, but I've started out with a fire engine red. I'm thinking purple next. A dark, mysterious purple. Yes, that'll do nicely.

=)

I'm Rooting For: The Gabbers' Gift.

So, I wasn't going to, but everyone else is and it seems safe enough. *Ugh! Your minds need some serious de-trash-ifying. No, I wasn't talking about sex, drugs, money, alcohol, or any other gutter-thought you can fathom.

I was talking about writing about the BLOG-O-Sphere!!!!!!! I like to think of it as a little clique (all seem to be welcome, unless the rules are changed) of bloggers who are the only thing keeping each other alive. I mean seriously, who else is going to comment on our blogs; letting us know that, NO we are not only writing to read it ourselves, and there are in fact actually people reading and commenting on our blogs. It's wonderful! Here's the list of lovely people who (so far as I've deducted) are apart of our (insert name of society here!):

http://www.allyvg.blospot.com Ally Vg (in case you haven't already guessed) ;-)

http://mechanical-pencil-eraser.blogspot.com/ Alex

http://clumsyninja.blogspot.com/ K (no, not a typo)

http://duloque.blogspot.com/ Du'Loque (or maybe it's du-Loque, I'll have to ask)

http://melodramaqueen.blogspot.com/ Rayne

http://raining-noodles.blogspot.com/ Angelique

And me OF COURSE! ;-)
There might be more people, but I can't find any others. So, I'm sorry if I forgot you. Lo siento.

That's us. Now we just need to come up with a name. Last I heard someone was rooting for AARDVARK (you know, ally, alex, rayne, du-loque, I think I would be V (not sure how, but...). angelique, Somebody whose name starts with an R (any takers?), and K.) Now I'm not so sure.

What's the latest guys?


*P.S. The Gabbers' Gift is gay, I know. But, I went to dictionary.com and found the gift of gab in the thesaurus as a synonym for way with words. Oooh! What about: the silver tongues. No, no, that's stupid too. Anybody else want to take a stab at thinking of a name for us? Go For It!!!!!!!!But, I still like The Gabbers' Gift.

Fall Is Just Something That Grown-Ups Invented.

So, today was my first day back to that place we all know to be hell all wrapped up in one little package: School. There is a song, that seems to be the theme song of Cartoon Network; don't ask. But, it puts my feelings of school and such to a catchy tune that will be stuck in your head for days to come. Apparently it was created and sung by a group called the Hives; now where have I heard that band before? Anyways, I truly believe what it says about Fall and School :

*Random thought: Have you ever just done something and not realized you did it until you were half-way through doing it? Like cutting up a straw. I was doing that today and I realized half-way that I was making a mess, then I realized that I was cutting up a straw, for no good reason. It was weird. I hope that doesn't turn into some kind of mental fall-out, and I go to jail for stealing something without realizing I did, at least until I got caught.

New Idea = It's A Good One.

I had a brain revelation. Remember how I tried to do that Happy List thing a couple of posts back? Well, it didn't really work; Sorry Alex. But, I had an idea that might work.
Okay, you know how you dream? Of course you do (Unless you're Ally, in which case you don't)!
Well, blank number of years ago, I was in a class called Space. And we did a project where you wrote down your dreams in the morning. Well, sometimes I have dreams that I want to remember, so when I do I'll write them down, ok?
To start us off: I had a dream a couple of weeks ago that I thought was funny (weird, but funny). Ally, you already know this dream, so you don't have to continue reading if you don't want to.

It's my class and we are at some coliseum, attending some robotics competition. I don't know if we are taking part in the competition or just watching it. I was in a Blimp, but I was in the football shaped part, not the normal part where you usually get to sit. Also, the blimp was red, but at the same time see-through. Dream logic is crazy sometimes. Well, there were holes in the blimp and three of my friends were in the blimp with me. E, M, and another, but it's so vague I can't remember. So, naturally we had to fix the holes and keep the balloon up in the air. M and I had bike pumps and E had some liquid helium pump that would help. I'm not sure what the last friend had. So, we're sitting in a falling blimp using bike pump's and the liquid pumper thing to keep the balloon up. And all the while, the teacher (not sure if it's Ms. H (my robotics teacher) or Ms. B (my math teacher) is telling me to keep the ballon up, "we're nearly there."

I don't know, it was strange, but it made me laugh. Well, that was one of my dreams, until next time! Adios!

Okay, seriously though.

Are you ready for the Scariest thought ever? *More scary than Saw or The Shining or Halloween or The Ring or The Sixth Sense or other scary movies like that?

School is starting back up again.
(dun dun duuuuuuuuun)

Hide your eyes. It'll scar you for life. AHHHHHH!

Especially when you go to a Nazi school like I do. Ready? 50 notecards due Friday, The final Thesis due next Friday (this is for that research paper I'm writing), and then Midterms are the week after that. Seriously. EWWWWW!!!! It's like some new form of Chinese water torture, except with homework. What were they thinking? How can anyone "Have a good break" while worrying about THAT all the time?
I'm hyperventilating here, people. I'm one of those people who try to do well in school; I have high hopes when I get out of college. But, how the hell am I supposed to reach those goals when I got all this work and shit to do? Seriously. Here it is 3:00 and I still have 20 notecards to do and I can't focus long enough to do them. But, who can blame me; it's my last day of break and I want to spend it being lazy. But, Noooooo!, I have to do work. Stupid Nazi school.

Anyone else need a paper bag?

*(By the way, I've never seen any of those movies; I'm not a scary movie person).