I haven't been posting. I'm sorry. I'm posting now. Are you happy?
All people should own a trampoline. I am not talking about those little meter-wide pathetic excuses for trampolines here. I'm talking about real trampolines, the kind that you have to put in the yard because they're way too big to fit in a house. Mini-trampolines are for wimps. Yes, I know I'm a wimp, but calling everyone else a wimp makes me feel less wimpy.
Trampolines are not just for usage the way they're intended. I know all the people who manufacture trampolines would be annoyed if they saw me mocking the rules that come attached to trampolines, but they shouldn't take it personally. I mock a lot of things. And it's hard not to mock rules like stay in the same position as you jump and look at your feet while jumping. I mean, do they expect people to jump up and down in straight lines? We'd look like idiots, not that the way we usually jump is less idiotic.
I should really write about the things that have been happening in my life, et cetera, but I don't feel like it. The end of the school year is quickly approaching on winged feet, like that god guy Mercury. Wasn't he the one with wings on his feet? I think things should approach on winged wings, but I didn't make up mythology. I wasn't alive back then.
Everyone can feel the awesome end-of-year vibe, especially the eighth graders. We were never really paying attention to anyone, anyway, and now we feel like we have an excuse: in just ten short days, we are out of this place forever. I think that means that we need to listen more, in case our teachers have any last-minute wisdom to impart on us, but try explaining that to a bunch of thirteen-year-olds who just want to go home. It's like nailing Jell-O to a wall, not that I have ever tried...I have tried explaining things to bored thirteen-year-olds. It doesn't work.
In French class, Madame spent almost an entire hour detailing to us how the rest of the year is going to go down and passing out violently neon sheets of paper. I have a syllabus with me, actually. She called it that, not me. Let's see: it's bright yellow and written in a weird mix of French and English. The important stuff, like NO SCHOOL and FOREIGN LANGUAGE OLYMPICS are written in English. And caps lock. The boring, useless stuff, like all the homework, is written in French.
My band teachers also told us about the imminent end of our middle school careers. None of my other teachers have even mentioned it, though. I think this is part of a plan to not acknowledge that it will soon be over in the hope that we don't know it'll be over. Everyone knows, though. We have countdowns in our planners. I even tried to figure out exactly how many hours, minutes, and seconds we had left during English, but I did the math wrong somehow and gave up.
Speaking of my planner, I have many things I heard during my days just waiting to be put on this blog. I write things down. When school is over, I will carry around my little green notebook and take notes while people talk to me. It won't be creepy at all.
"Hamlet is a player."
"You're such a fruit! I'm going to call you 'grapefruit.' Or...'lemon twist!'"
I don't know why I wrote this, but "may result in severe closed-head injuries."
"I am obviously not cut out to be an actress."
Someone mentioned allergies in class, so:
"I have allergies!"
"I do too!"
"I have ADD!"
In French class, Madame gave everyone a word, which they had to stand up and say in front of the class. One person, I don't remember who, didn't say anything when it was her turn.
"What's your word?"
She didn't answer.
"It's 'bacon,' isn't it?"
Also in French class (have I mentioned that French is my most exciting class of the day? Everything is better in French), we had to compose some sentences. In French. This was because Madame wanted to show us how much French we really knew. My sentence was pretty much the most amazing sentence ever: Elle lit un livre parce qu'elle aime lire. She reads a book because she likes to read. Madame said something like, "Oh, isn't this a wonderful sentence?" Everyone booed me. I was offended.
The same day, someone else wrote a sentence that translates to: His selfish chicken hates the airport. I think "Selfish Chicken" would make a great band name. I think everything would make a great band name.
"It's not 'Knowledge Master's!' It's not possessive!"
"Could Hamlet be done in a space station?"
Heck yes.
"You could have everyone in Hamlet dress up as dinosaurs and call it 'Dinosaurs!'"
Speaking of Hamlet, Claudia and I spoke of it a lot in part two of her interview, which we finally got around to completing (read: I finally got around to completing) last night. This time, you'll get to see it in the way we actually spoke to each other over Facebook, as opposed to the way I messed with it to make it seem more grammatically correct and easy to read.
Claudia, Part Two (which I was too lazy to change the font of):
Me: I am interviewing Claudia for the second time. How long was it between these?
Her: A couple weeks I think. has the interview begun?
ok
throw dem questions at me
Me: What is your favorite color? I missed that question on your quiz.
Her: purple/violet
my favorite shade depends on my mood
lilac if i feel girly
dark dark violet if im depressed
Me: You don't just have one favorite color?
Her: oh no
when am i ever consistent?
i mean, really
Me: True. That's fabulous.
Her: i cant stick with one
just not possibel
*possible
Me: Are you reading anything right now?
Her: at the moment i dont have anything to read because i am waiting to go to the library
next?
Me: This is because of what the Sherm is making us do: do you like Hamlet?
Her: the character or the movie?
Me: I was thinking, like, the play. I'm sure you have opinions on the movie, too.
Her: oh yes i have opinions on the movie
it was so creepy in that scene
it looked like he was about to rape his own mother
did you see that?
Me: The whole thing was creepy, but that part was the worst.
Her: i was looking around at the class and everyone looked really freaked out
well except for a few people
Me: It was freaky.
Her: yeah
and remember that part where ophelia was touching that guy in the armor?
Me: Yes. That was bad too.
Her: Mike said something nasty when his class watched it.
it looked like she was touching his.....
you know
and of course the guy in the armor looked freaked
Me: Yes. It was just really weird. And nasty.
like the rest of us
he was scared
i hate that movie!!!!!!!!!
Me: I would have been scared.
Bring a book to class like Rennie.
Her: i have a new name for the sherm
the shermanator
rhythms with terminator
the shermanator
Me: Yes.
Her: yeah
Me: The problem with that is that it's weird to spell.
Her: next question?
Me: Food.
Do you have a favorite food?
Her: it changes on a day to day basis, like my sense of reality and sanity
Me: Is that healthy?
Her: im not sure
but i cant do anything about it
Me: What did you eat tonight? Did you eat tonight? I'm asking about food because I'm hungry.
Her: i ate... ummmm...
i cant remeber
*remember
oh wait
.
i ate a caesar salad
yeah
thats what i had
Me: Exciting.
I actually have to leave now to eat food and do various other things.
Her: yeah
ok
will my interview be on by tonight?
Me: Probably not, sorry. I'll hopefully work up the energy to post tomorrow.
And look at this! I did post today! I amaze myself. However, it was not because I worked up the energy. It was because I stayed home diseased today and had nothing better to do. No one should say stayed home sick. Stayed home sick is not as awesome as stayed home diseased. My diseased caused me to lose sleep by waking up and wanting to vomit, feel not hungry, and feed tomato soup to the cat. She ate it, too. I have sat around all day sleeping and talking to Liss, my little diseased friend.
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