It Seems Like Years Since It's Been Clear

It's been four years since I was confronted with the news of George Harrison's death, and let me tell you, it feels like it's been ten. It seems like he's been gone forever... and also like he died yesterday. I miss him. Rest in peace, oh one with many garden gnomes.*

Speaking of death, sapphsmum has had a death in her family, so I'd like to take this opportunity to offer my condolences and lots of hugs.

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I finally made decent fudge. It was a boxed mix, though, and it doesn't taste like fudge. It tastes like firm chocolate frosting. Please note that this is not a bad thing. The mix... well, I could do the same thing myself without the box, lol.

Today I couldn't take a shower (phobia number 1346: being struck by lightning in the shower, while naked and thus nastified) because there was a storm. So I spent the time I would normally spend sleeping in the shower getting ready. My excuse for having hair that would make Medusa say "whoa" and the fact that there isn't enough time to dry it before I go to school AND brush it is usually my shower, but today since I didn't take one I had to do SOMETHING. Unfortunately, my hair is in supreme need of deep conditioning and a good de-dreadlocking, and it's nearly impossible to do dry on three hours of sleep, so I wore a bun and massive amounts of hairspray. I'm serious: there was enough hairspray on my head to hold up a 7-eleven WITHOUT GUNS. (Alternative lame joke: There was enough hairspray on my head to hold up all of the Bronx, without thug backup.)
I also had to like... give myself a sponge bath. Yes, you can get struck by lightning just by being near the sink, but I figured being dressed and struck by lightning > being naked and struck by lightning. Besides, I kept wetting the washcloth and then jumping back. I must have been funny-looking.

The whole point of that ridiculous bit of rambling is that I declared today "Tenth-grade-me" dress-up day, since I didn't used to take morning showers all those years ago (obscure George Harrison reference), and I wore clothes from then and jewelry from then, from back when Claire's sale rack didn't suck (in fact, back when they actually sold rings I liked) and some plastic bracelets, a la my 9th grade self (Mr. Myers once asked me exactly how much time it took to put all of them on) and I kind of even smelled like I did then. It's a little disconcerting to think of the way I used to be.... I kind of miss it.

So, to wrap up this entry: life is pretty much the way it's always been.
Also, today my Algebra II teacher brought up how proud of me she was for my 104%. (There were two higher grades, a 107 and a 121. I really have no idea how this kid got a 121.) The thing is, it kind of came out of nowehere. The kids nearby were comparing their grades, and she was all "WELL SHE GOT A 104!!!!!!! I WAS SO PROUD!!" she even did a little dance. ...My class is kind of weird. I haven't mentioned how much I loathe my classmates yet in here, but I do. I love Mrs. Alleyne, but... I dunno. I just hate the rest of them.
At the end of class, Mrs. A. told me that she's gotten used to me having good grades now, which means I have to like, study. And do homework.
I had a 61 (or 62?) at progress report time, and she said with some work and my lowest test grade (a 42- 41?- on the same material as the 104 test- I don't get it either) dropped, I could get a C, but I think with some more work, more turned in homework, and the lowest test grade dropped, I could get a B. I B! ...I doubt it though. But, you know, I'll take the C over a borderline failing grade anytime :D

Oh, and I got an awesome idea for a story- I just wish someone else would write it. I've got Crime and Punishment AND Wuthering Heights to read, so I don't have time for my own thoughts and ideas. I can't wait until high school is over so I can devote my brainpower to these ideas I have that never materialize because I'm trying to wrap my brain around pointless school stuff.


-Ivyette @ 12:31 AM

*The cover of his first solo album, All Things Must Pass, features, among other things, garden gnomes.