It's over. My pain, suffering and agony is complete... moment being, anyway. Yes, my last exam is finished, signed, handed in. Thank heaven. I never, ever, kanever (I made that one up) wanna take another math class again. Pre-calc is murder, and I hate it, and I have a bad, burning feeling about that exam. *Shudders* Yeah, can't wait to see the grade. That, by the way, was sarcasm. But I think I did pretty well on my orchestra playing test (Mozart, Symphony 29). I mean, the teacher fanned me off and said I did well and the class clapped, so... Well, I thought I was kinda squeaky, and those double ups still weren't quite as bouncy as they were when I was practising before-hand. But, I think I got an A, and I got to be first chair for the day (that rhymed!).
So, now I've got no more French 4 and no more Pre-Calc. It's over. I liked French 4, though, and I can't wait for AP French next year! Bring it! It's nice to be home with my mum's computer, in Mum's computer room/office, in Mum's home. Soon, I'll have a house of my own (preferably a mansion), with an office of my own (preferably a big one that's expensive, and, yet, unused save for a space to write in), and my own computer (but it'll be the best Mac available in existence ever, paisley coloured) (and, yes, I'm aware that paisley isn't a colour), because I'll be rich and famous and you'll see me all over magazines and there'll be posters of me in Times Square, and I'll be so rich that Donald Trump and Bill Gates will live in cardboard boxes on my street corner. Well, maybe not that rich, but I will make quite a bit. Wait a few years and see.
So, when I fail, you can't laugh at me. At least I dare to dream!
Hmm, hmm... otherwise, nothing else happened. I ate a lot of doughnuts, two to be precise. That was my lunch and snack, doughnuts. The school was selling them to get money for Relay For Life, so I bought one and a friend bought a box and made me eat one ("you're too skinny anyway"... yeah right), and so now I'm full to bursting with Krispy Kreme glazed. Good stuff though. I coulda used a hat.
In orchestra the class was diminished in number, from 40 something to 19 (seniors are sometimes exempt from exam days, and the orchestra is comprised of a few hundred divided into four groups), so after the test we played Music Bingo! Yes, bingo about music (imagine that!). I didn't win squat, but it was fun nonetheless. Then my cliche and I sat around and discussed hot famous dudes. It's a long story. We can't talk about hot regular guys, because Mary has a boyfriend and would feel left out, and everyone knows famous people, so we made a list of our favourites. There's an old people list and a young people list. It was interesting when we started arguing over where Johnny Depp should go. And then it broke out into arguements about Brad Pitt. I don't like Brad Pitt, Jennifer does. She likes Tom Cruise, I only like him in that Irish immigrant movie. Accents make people look better, I guess! So then I brought up Ewann McGregor, and no one knew who he was, and I rolled my eyes and had to list movies, and then everyone laughed because it was a long list, a long list I probably shouldn't know. But I think we all agreed on Viggo Mortensen and Mel Gibson on the old dudes list (they are old, don't argue), and Brandon Boyd and Heath Ledger on the young list. I don't necessarily think that those two are all that young, but who am I to argue? My personal favourite, however "gay" he may seem, is still Elijah Wood. *shrugs* But, hey, who am I to argue? And he's not "gay", even if he does where navy velvet suits. I thought it was a snappy ensemble (that means you, Meredith!), personally! If a man can dress to impress, it doesn't make him gay. Just like if a woman can't dress to impress, it doesn't make her gay. Stereotypes are so unfair! Fun, but unfair. And I'll make sure to keep an eye out for your brother in Vanity Fair, don't worry! That's the coolness that he got in!
Ah, I'm finally starting to settle in to my little niche here online! People are so great to me! *Smiles* And that means you, Sarah! I'm adding you to my favourites list as soon as this is done. I meant to yesterday, but those exams wiped my brain clean. Whoosh, everything: gone. But now my head aches, and I can think semi-properly again! YES! Too bad I start Physics Monday. That'll be just grand. I'm actually surprisingly good in Science, last year I think I got a near perfect on the state issued tests (SOLs). Too bad I hate the subject so much. You'd think you'd like something you're good at, but... no. My favourite subject is and always shall be English. And nothing else.
I need to stop dwelling on school. The Apprentice was good last night! I want the women to lose. I know, I'm an avid supporter of women's rights, but, geez, those women are skank holes without a bit of talent in their starved bodies. "Sex sells, sex sells, sex sells..." We get the point. Not a single fresh idea in any of their botoxed heads, and it's a disgrace to womankind the world over. It's like trying to say that Charlie's Angels is female empowering. C'mon, people! You don't see the men out there dressed like they're from Chippendale's! You also don't see them winning anything, either... So that's not the best example. You get my point, though.
It's a strange world when the best reality tv show doesn't force people to face worms or barrels of scorpions or a deserted island... no, something much more sinister... the Trump. The Don. The Trumpinator. Yeesh... That hair is enough to kill a man, but he points with his entire hand, not just a finger! How eeeevil do you get? It's almost as evil as Alan Rickman (oooh, I love Alan Rickman) or minivans. Wouldn't catch me within ten feet of that guy, even when he does live in a cardboard box in front of my mansion.
My arms hurt. I bet it's because I'm such a weirdo. Yup. That's what it is. It's either that or Martha Stewart. You can always blame it on her. Martha Stewart or El Nino. Or La Nina, which ever you prefer! I like El Nino, it affects me more that La Nina does... I think... wait, what am I talking about? I don't think any of it really matters, because sooner or later half of Africa is gonna break off into the ocean and flood the world, but not before California breaks away from America. So when the world is flooded, California will float on top of the waters and only people in LA and Hollywood will survive. As long as we save Hollywood, I think I'm fine. And then the polar icecaps will melt, and everybody's doomed when that happens. Even Donald Trump who could use his hair piece as a floatation device. It's true, it's bouyant. We should throw him in the ocean to see! Hardy har har! Oh, geez, I crack myself up sometimes.
Nifty keen. Ahhh, I think I'm all outta stuff for you people today. I'm hungry... no! Can't get fat. Then I'm thirsty, thirsty for some chocolate. How do I get around that one? I could have hot cocoa! It is cold outside... That works, it totally works. Okay, hot cocoa it is for me, and nothing for you! Hahaha! Eat that.
And today's title came, once again, from Will & Grace. I know, it's a little racier than usual in the title department, but it struck me as slightly humourous, and I succumed to my laughter. Hey! I heard a serious one! Mmmkay: "What if there isn't a tomorrow? There wasn't [one] today." It's one of those that you have to contemplate for awhile when it's taken out of context the way I did. It's actually from one of those movies where a person repeats the same day over and over and over again, but I thought it could pertain to just about every day, a carpe diem sort of thing. Just in case there isn't a tomorrow, make sure you're happy with today. You never know when that piece of Africa's gonna break off into the ocean!
I gotta run and eat... I mean, drink some chocolate. Toodles!