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tabular_rasaToday, early in the morning, there was a Dollars for Scholars honors banquet. I wasn't terribly enamored with the breakfast, but, then again, all I want in the morning is a bowl of cereal and a glass of milk to go with it, but I talked to Mr. Minichillo, whose family gave me one of my scholarships, and Dr. Adkins and Mr. Kindy and some guy from the school board who I don't know (though he apparently knew me, lol . . . ), who I talked to about Japan, lol . . .
I was enamored with this book all day:
"You are not my mother! You are a SNORT! GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!"
Yeah, if you didn't read that as a child, you are deprived. I am very sorry, but you just are. Lol . . .
I am bringing it for Kristina and Robert to read tomorrow.
By the way, P.T. Eastman is actually Dr. Suess, just with a different name, lol . . . the illustrations should be a give-away, really . . .
In Psychology, we talked about Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, and watched the opening scene to "As Good As It Gets," which I have never seen. Yet when it was over, the clip she showed us, I went, "Is it sad that I relate to that guy?" I mean, I do: I have to do things over and over three or five times, like light switches and often doors, even though I am quite certain I am ruining them (I do it to my ID, a lot, too . . . ). I wonder if there are things that I do that I don't even pick up on (I'm sure that there are, actually . . . and that could potentially be very bad). I know I have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, but since it's not a "danger" to society, I'm fine. Some days are worse than others, too-- at least for now.
We also talked about somatoform disorders, which Tory the Semi-Hypochondriac (and Paranoid) seems to have, lol, and I am giving Roderick in the von Brandt story a conversion disorder (Tiffany, Jessica, read your emails for important details!).
In English, no one gets "As I Lay Dying" anymore than we did. That is one f*cked-up book. The kid thinks his mom's a fish (and that's about ALL he thinks, besides "I saw something and Dewey Dell told me not to say something about it"), the girl is a moron who is turned on by cows, and gets laid by a doctor instead of getting an abortion pill from him, one kid's got his leg in cement, one kid got arrested, and one just swears all the time. The mother speaks from beyond the grave about her kid-beating fetish (it makes her feel alive, she says . . . right . . . ), and the father marries some random lady and uses his daughter's abortion pill money to buy some retarded teeth, and the whole hick family rides a wagon with a dead, rotting, wet body in it, and they don't even care.
. . . or, at least, that's what I THINK happened . . .
It wouldn't be half so bad if Faulkner weren't so skeptical about the nature of humankind.
In AP US Government, we just futzed around. What else is new?
In Sociology, Phil and I talked about sex rituals in different cultures. I like making him uncomfortable. He seems to take pride in doing it to other people, so, well, it's a taste of his own medicine, lol . . .
I got to skip Orchestra to go see a man talk about promoting democracy in the Middle East. He was quite interesting, and I enjoyed it, but, well, I felt bad for him, because none of the other kids cared. Robert played Devil's Advocate, which is cool (the man never heard what I said when I yelled stuff out, so I stopped that pretty quickly, and just took semi-profound "notes" on the inside of the Constitution leaflet-- well, booklet, really-- that they handed out). That one kid who was loud was obnoxious-- but, then again, those who know the least tend to say the most, lol . . .
I went with Nichole to drop off her check for her yearbook, and then she lost her coat . . . we think, at least . . .
Then it was the Speech and Debate "party." I got an award for best Lincoln Douglass Debator. I was second only to Phil for "most points earned by a first-year member," lol . . . but, then again, I only went to five or six events . . . INCLUDING Model UN, which gave me about 100 points. It was just general hyperness there, people trying to come up with Speech advertising campaigns.
Andrew: "Hey, I joined Speech to pick up chicks. I mean, I met my girlfriend at a Speech meet."
Sara: "Okay, that's just guys."
Me: "Oh, no. I'm with Andrew. I so joined Speech to pick up the chicks, too."
Mr. Ong: "How about if you go to State, I slap you . . . but if you go to Nationals, YOU can slap ME."
Sara: "So the campaign is, 'Going to State is like a slap in the face-- but going to Nationals is like a slap in someone else's face?'"
The ever-present "Master Debator" came up. Andrew also pointed out, "We do it orally."
At one Brock dragged (yes, physically dragged) me out of my seat and pulled me around in a bizarre "dance routine," and no one even noticed, which I thought was particularly funny.
When I came home, people were stalking us. The police AND Marcia Fulmer wanted my mom.
It really does bother me that she wrote that "sad" article about the Symphony being over. Don't even, bitch. It's your fault.
I am the last senior to ever have been honored at YHO. I find that . . . destiny . . . or something. I don't know. I'll explain once I figure out how it fits. I have a suspicion, or something . . .
I had to drive Tory around a lot today. I also had to drive Erik home from the Speech and Debate thing, and, this time, I actually didn't get lost. That traumatized me, really, last time.
I was enamored with this book all day:
"You are not my mother! You are a SNORT! GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!"
Yeah, if you didn't read that as a child, you are deprived. I am very sorry, but you just are. Lol . . .
I am bringing it for Kristina and Robert to read tomorrow.
By the way, P.T. Eastman is actually Dr. Suess, just with a different name, lol . . . the illustrations should be a give-away, really . . .
In Psychology, we talked about Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, and watched the opening scene to "As Good As It Gets," which I have never seen. Yet when it was over, the clip she showed us, I went, "Is it sad that I relate to that guy?" I mean, I do: I have to do things over and over three or five times, like light switches and often doors, even though I am quite certain I am ruining them (I do it to my ID, a lot, too . . . ). I wonder if there are things that I do that I don't even pick up on (I'm sure that there are, actually . . . and that could potentially be very bad). I know I have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, but since it's not a "danger" to society, I'm fine. Some days are worse than others, too-- at least for now.
We also talked about somatoform disorders, which Tory the Semi-Hypochondriac (and Paranoid) seems to have, lol, and I am giving Roderick in the von Brandt story a conversion disorder (Tiffany, Jessica, read your emails for important details!).
In English, no one gets "As I Lay Dying" anymore than we did. That is one f*cked-up book. The kid thinks his mom's a fish (and that's about ALL he thinks, besides "I saw something and Dewey Dell told me not to say something about it"), the girl is a moron who is turned on by cows, and gets laid by a doctor instead of getting an abortion pill from him, one kid's got his leg in cement, one kid got arrested, and one just swears all the time. The mother speaks from beyond the grave about her kid-beating fetish (it makes her feel alive, she says . . . right . . . ), and the father marries some random lady and uses his daughter's abortion pill money to buy some retarded teeth, and the whole hick family rides a wagon with a dead, rotting, wet body in it, and they don't even care.
. . . or, at least, that's what I THINK happened . . .
It wouldn't be half so bad if Faulkner weren't so skeptical about the nature of humankind.
In AP US Government, we just futzed around. What else is new?
In Sociology, Phil and I talked about sex rituals in different cultures. I like making him uncomfortable. He seems to take pride in doing it to other people, so, well, it's a taste of his own medicine, lol . . .
I got to skip Orchestra to go see a man talk about promoting democracy in the Middle East. He was quite interesting, and I enjoyed it, but, well, I felt bad for him, because none of the other kids cared. Robert played Devil's Advocate, which is cool (the man never heard what I said when I yelled stuff out, so I stopped that pretty quickly, and just took semi-profound "notes" on the inside of the Constitution leaflet-- well, booklet, really-- that they handed out). That one kid who was loud was obnoxious-- but, then again, those who know the least tend to say the most, lol . . .
I went with Nichole to drop off her check for her yearbook, and then she lost her coat . . . we think, at least . . .
Then it was the Speech and Debate "party." I got an award for best Lincoln Douglass Debator. I was second only to Phil for "most points earned by a first-year member," lol . . . but, then again, I only went to five or six events . . . INCLUDING Model UN, which gave me about 100 points. It was just general hyperness there, people trying to come up with Speech advertising campaigns.
Andrew: "Hey, I joined Speech to pick up chicks. I mean, I met my girlfriend at a Speech meet."
Sara: "Okay, that's just guys."
Me: "Oh, no. I'm with Andrew. I so joined Speech to pick up the chicks, too."
Mr. Ong: "How about if you go to State, I slap you . . . but if you go to Nationals, YOU can slap ME."
Sara: "So the campaign is, 'Going to State is like a slap in the face-- but going to Nationals is like a slap in someone else's face?'"
The ever-present "Master Debator" came up. Andrew also pointed out, "We do it orally."
At one Brock dragged (yes, physically dragged) me out of my seat and pulled me around in a bizarre "dance routine," and no one even noticed, which I thought was particularly funny.
When I came home, people were stalking us. The police AND Marcia Fulmer wanted my mom.
It really does bother me that she wrote that "sad" article about the Symphony being over. Don't even, bitch. It's your fault.
I am the last senior to ever have been honored at YHO. I find that . . . destiny . . . or something. I don't know. I'll explain once I figure out how it fits. I have a suspicion, or something . . .
I had to drive Tory around a lot today. I also had to drive Erik home from the Speech and Debate thing, and, this time, I actually didn't get lost. That traumatized me, really, last time.
