Y'alright. I'm feeling incredibly talkative and hyper right now. Buckle down!
So, today, yes, today, is "Vectortine's Day" for Physics students in my spiteful highschool. It was supposed to be yesterday, but school was cancelled on the timely count of snow. But though snow still thickly coats the ground, school was in session today, without so much as a delay (a rhyme!). So I sported my teeshirt, and my buttons, and I passed out my cards (which was great fun, feeling so loved), and ate my food (and sooo much licorice and gumdrops and... ugh... candy corn [that I normally gorge by the pound, or kilogram if you prefer] really made me sick)(guess who's skipping supper?) and presented my book. Apparently my teacher is a pretty big Queer Eye fan, so, that won me brownie points. She said my book gets an A+. See, the Fab Five from Queer Eye made up my Physics Phairy Council, and they enlisted the phairy specializing in vectors and being Governor of California (guess of whom it is I speak... The Terminator, Arnuld Schwarzenegger!) to teach the little boy who hated vectors (Beaver Cleaver of Leave it to Beaver) the phun of physics. Good, no? Well, it's good when you see it.
But you can't, so nyah.
And I took a History test today. It was easy-peasy (minus some questions about the Unions... who created the National Labour Union as compared to who created Knights of Labour? I couldn't remember for the life of me...). The essays were fun. So I probably failed then, right? And I finished (officially finished the first stage) of my rose vessel in Ceramics. It was harder than leather-hard, so I went back with a shaping tool and took off all the excess scraps of clay that I couldn't get when it was soft and pliable. It looks really neat, and I could really use the prize money from the museum, so I hope my art places. I need to buy a notebook for college. Like a laptop notebook. I don't have the money for it myself, and I'm lucky enough to have free tuition at Columbia. Mum's been really worried about a computer for me, too, so maybe this will be an answer to my prayer.
Or maybe something else will come along, but I know that the problem will be solved somehow. I also need a cellphone, but I'll just get Dad to get me one. I've got two summers and a school year in between to get everything in order. Ample time to some, not enough to myself! But college shall be great fun, and I think I'll obtain all of my goals. And I'll make sure to remember you all come Oscar night. You'll be under the synonym of "little people". Of course, everyone is little next to me! I'm so tall! Hahaha!
Well, I am tall. Very tall. And that is very annoying. I can never find pants to fit me or seats to fit in or crowds I don't see over. And people always get mad at me in movie theaters. I've seen a lot of movies, and because of that, a lot of people miss movies. Sorry if that would apply to you.
And sorry, Sarah, for leaving a pointless note on your diary. I felt the need to let you know that Viggo Mortensen is the schiz. Haha, I said schiz. That's terrible! Never again. And who here can't wait for Hidalgo? Even my grandma, dubbed Gammie, wants to see it! She thinks Viggo is "good looking and rugged." Oh, and if you think that's hilarious, my mum, the same Mum that pokes fun at Hugo Weaving for his eyebrows and supposed "homosexuality", admitted yesterday that she though he was good-looking. So I giggled and said, "Mummy thinks Hugo Weaving's hot!" That's like the time that my brother accidentally admitted that Elijah Wood was a good actor. I've never let him forget it.
Oh, and also, Sarah, your school sounds awesome. Houses? Like Harry Potter has houses? Like Gryffindor and Slytherin and Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw kinds of houses? That rules! I want my school to be divided into houses to build tension and animosity between students all to be exemplified during house competitions. Curses! Once again, a potent example of foreign wonders as compared to banal American society. I am so moving.
In other news, I have had Maroon 5 stuck in my head all day. Luckily it's not that sad excuse for a song, "Harder to Breathe", but their new and actually good single (which, surprisingly, I can't remember the title of). I really hated their first single. It just drives me insane everytime I have to listen to it. "Is there anyone out there? 'Cuz it's getting harder and harder to breathe." What was the line that I hated the most? Lemme think... something like, "no one'll do you like I did." I think. That's just an absolutely terrible, terrible bunch of lyrics, and an even more terrible tune. I hate it. But I forgive them for their new song. The off-beat thing is snappy.
And yesterday I realised that I can play 7 different Lord of the Rings songs on my cello. Loser? Yes. Proud? Of course. And that's the sad thing.
Oh! Dead Ringers has left me asking one question: yes, we know that Alan Rickman is the most diabolical British man (and don't argue, Sir Ian McKellen), but who is the most diabolical Australian? I'm gonna have to settle on Hugo Weaving as Agent Smith. He's just incredibly evil, and that's why he rules. He's even cooler than Neo (and Neo is pretty darn cool). But my brother thinks it's Russel Crowe! What? Russel who? So, if you can settle this bet for us, please, leave me your feedback. I'm interested to know as to which Australian man is the evil-er of the two. Oh, and if you disagree with my previous statement, and happen to think that Rickman's got nothing on McKellen, and Sir Ian is the more evil of the two, please, feel free to inform me (even though you're wrong).
And you, Kelly, are going down! 7? 7? 7 on my essay? I think an 8 is more called for. Better be glad I didn't grade your essay. Sure, it was rushed. But I used big words and I evaluated tone, diction, and syntax! Something I didn't see in any of the papers I graded. Ooooh, little missy, you shall pay! May your future be laced with evil and malice. May the enigmatic spirits that serve as your muses wither before you, usurping you of inspiration from here until... until... next Thursday! BWAHAHAHA!
Sorry. She gave me a 7 out of 9 on an English paper. I really don't care very much, but I don't know that I really, truly, deserved a 7. I guess I may have. Maybe I should use words like "enigmatic" or "usurp" more often. Then maybe I would be loved instead of rejected. Those essays were quick, though. I didn't have too much to write about the one she gave me a 7 on. Maybe I deserved less... *tear* I'm such a failure. Slash my dreams into a million tiny, bite-sized pieces, why don't you, society?
Nah, I'm fine. Toodles!
Oh, and today's title came from Will & Grace, the gay spelling bee episode. "Spell GQ." "I'm sorry, did you say GQ?" "Correct!"
Haha. GQ. They're letters and the name and the... never mind.
Toodles! Oh! And my friend Jenny isn't feeling well. She was absent today, and I missed her. Pray she gets better, k? Supposedly she went to the hospital for some blood tests, and I don't know why. Now I'm all depressed again.