Here it is. The entire month of December for the year 1998. Don't you just feel like a part of my life? Doesn't it make you all warm & fuzzy inside to know that I'm sharing a part of myself with you? I know it does. Read on.
Wednesday the 30th of December: Yesterday was an interesting day. I went shopping with Tracey & Sam, my friend who used to date awesome Blockbuster boy, Kyle. (Mike was supposed to come with us, but he said that he was out of money or some other ridiculous lie.) We went to one of our random malls so that Sam could spend her Christmas money, & Tracey & I could check out the wandering mall guys. We went to Claire's & saw some of our random school friends. We started talking to the guy that worked there, & he gave us some of those cool plastic batons with the streamers on the end that we used to play with when we were little. We were trying to teach him how to twirl them, but I guess that's something men just aren't supposed to do. He started sword fighting with us using them, then. I started thinking that only a gay guy would be as fun as he was, but I really don't think he was gay. That's a good thing. He was hot. (Is it just me or do I think all guys are hot? I'm sure all you men get really sick of hearing me talk about crap like that, don't you? To bad, my dears.) We went to see You've Got Mail after that little excursion. It was great, let me tell you. Extremely sweet. Tom Hanks was so cute with his little e-mail messages to Meg Ryan. It's too bad that GUYS AREN'T REALLY LIKE THAT. Then, we went back to Tracey's house & made fun of people in mIRC, our weird-o chat room. Tracey knows this great guy named Andy who's really crazy, & we were quoting him, calling the idiots in mIRC "sexie rexie vampires" & whatnot. We didn't get to bed until 5 or something. I'm tired. Tracey's mom threw away my contacts this morning. I didn't have my contact case with me, so I just put the things in some little cups & left them by the sink in her bathroom. I went to get them today, & they were gone. Gladys says that she doesn't remember throwing them away, but we all know she did, don't we? That's OK, Gladys. Contacts only cost $300 or something. No worries. I talked to Mike for, like, 2 hours when I came home. He intrigues me. I think that he thinks that I'm really stupid or below him or something. I'm not sure. I can't tell what he's thinking...EVER. With most people, I feel like I know exactly what they want, but he's...umm...different? That's about all I can say since I'm worried that he might actually read these things when he's not too busy smoking crack. OK, I suppose that's all I'll say about anything for tonight. Bye, kids. (Lips like sugar. Sugar kisses.)
Monday the 28th of December: So, I went shopping again today. I got the greatest pants ever from a little place I like to call "The-old-men's-department-in-Kohls". I got a whole bunch of other post-Christmas stuff, too, but I'm sure you don't want to hear about it. [Those of you who do (you know who you are), e-mail me personally.] I went to the pet store for, like, the first time in 40,000 years, too. I got a frog. I used to have a couple of weird albino frogs (named Doc Hopper & Nurse Webby) that completely freaked my family out, but the new guy is much more family-friendly. His name is Freddie, in case you were dying to know. Doesn't the name "Freddie" just scream "frog!"? Yeah, I thought so. On the way home, Joanie & I stopped at Blockbuster (Yeah!) to return Can't Hardly Wait. I think we watched it 40,000,000 times. We can quote the entire thing. OK, so we walked in, & the only woman who works there happened to be the one standing inside, so we didn't get greeted by one of the Blockbuster guys. That was OK. Jo & I had decided on an Ethan Embry movie in advance, & since she hasn't seen Empire Records yet (the weird-o), we went for that one. I didn't think I knew any of the guys who were working, but then this guy named Kyle that one of my friends used to date came over to check me out. You have to understand that Kyle is, like, the hottest thing EVER. He might just be the most flumpable man I know. He has the most amazing hair I've ever seen, I think. It sticks up all crazy, & you can tell that he totally doesn't mind looking different than everyone else. (Yeah, that's what I like.) I didn't even think guys that hot could actually exist anywhere, let alone stupid Ohio, but I guess they do. Kyle certainly does. (By the way, Sam, you can't tell Kyle that I ever said this. Man, that would be a big mistake on your part, believe me.) Anyway, Kyle took my Blockbuster card & copied the info. I started to hand him my license, but he said he didn't need it. (Joanie says he didn't need it because he can just ask Sam for my number when he finally gets up the nerve to call me. Ha.) Kyle looked at the movie & said something like, "This movie is great," so I said, "I know! It's one of my favourites." (Joanie thought that was way lame since I say that to every Blockbuster guy who ever wants to talk about movies with me, but hey, it's the truth, my friends. I love that movie.) So, he rang it up & asked me for my $2.10. (Can you believe how cheap it is to rent movies? Heck, I would pay the $2.10 just to get to come to Blockbuster & talk to the guys. Heck, I would pay the $2.10 just to get to come to Blockbuster & LOOK at the guys.) When I gave my $3.00 to Kyle, though, he gave me one of my dollars back & started digging around the pockets of his extremely cool JNCO khakis (that he looks pretty darn good in, I might add) for a dime. Now, how cool is that? I imagine that he does that for everybody, but hey, it's Kyle & he did it for me. That's all that matters, right? Yeah. OK, that's my Blockbuster story for the day. I can't wait 'til Friday so I can go there again. Joanie requested that we rent a movie every day, but I think that might be a little obvious, eh? After our little Blockbuster excursion, we went to McDonald's & got some of those fun McFlurries. We had a little too much fun eating them. We have a little too much fun together all of the time, it seems. We agreed today not to ever get drunk together, because we would be falling on the floor laughing. OK, I think we're going to watch the movie now, so...this is the end. Buh-bye.
Saturday the 26th of December: I had to take back Trainspotting the other day, so I decided to take my sister, Joanie, along with me to check out the hot Blockbuster guys. I told her that I forgot my card the last time & had to show my driver's license, but she said that was a good thing so the guys could see my name & phone number on it. Well, we walked around & finally she chose Can't Hardly Wait. When we went to pay for it, I handed the guy (the same one from the other night) my Blockbuster card. He copied the info off of it & handed it back to me. Then, he kind of hesitated & asked for my license, too. I thought Joanie was about to die. I could tell she wanted to laugh so hard. We paid & left. As soon as we got out the door, Joanie started cracking up & told me that I just should have said, "My name is Katie & I was born on October 9th, 1981, making me 17 years old. You can find me at (my address) or call me at (my phone number)." (We were rolling on the ground after that. We so easily amuse ourselves.) OK, so we got home & watched the movie about 400 times. Man, I loved it. I knew I would just because of the guys who were in it. I mean, could Ethan Embry (Preston in the movie) get any cuter? I really think every girl should have her very own Ethan. I mean, not only does he have the perfect name (even though it's not really his), but he's the most adorable thing EVER. I don't know what kind of person he is, but in all of the movies I've seen him in, he's always so sweet. Like in Can't Hardly Wait, for instance, he writes that totally amazing letter to stupid Jennifer Love Hewitt. I mean, it's soooo great that he did that, but couldn't he have given the letter to me? I know it would have changed the movie a little, but he just should have stood up & said, "No, the one I really want to be with is Katie. I won't give this letter to stupid Jennifer Love Hewitt, OK?" Yeah, that would have been good. Also, I think we should all have a little Seth Green (Kenny in the movie), too. Even when he was being an idiot, I thought he was great. Too bad there are no real guys that are like that. Ah, movies suck, don't they?
Friday the 25th of December: I'm in-between parties right now, so I thought I'd just write a little something in here to satisfy those of you who live only to hear about my life. (You know who you are.) Well, obviously, today is Christmas. I'm a big fan of Christmas. I'm not going to go through each & every gift I got, because it would take about 4 years to write, but let me tell you, I got the best CD's EVER. (Oh, & I also got some cool fuzzy dice & a dancing hula guy for my Blazer!) My parents are so cool.
Earlier tonight, I was sitting at one of my relative’s houses, & I noticed some pictures hanging on the wall, so I went over to see what they were. There were a couple of pictures of my parents at their wedding, so I was checking those out. As I was looking at them, I realized how good-looking my parents were. I mean, it's sick to think the people I make fun of & call "disgusting" & "old" (they're not really, by the way) were once way better-looking than I am right now. I also saw a picture of my great-uncle, Crazy Aunt Dorothy's husband, a few days ago & thought, "Whoa, he was hot!" Man, why do people have to get old? And why do they all have to be related to me in some way? Weird, very weird. Anyway, merry Christmas, kids!
Wednesday the 23rd of December: Well, like I promised you, I've been doing a whole lot of chatting lately. I really love it when I meet someone who can actually speak English. For every one decent person I meet, though, I find 400 complete idiots. I just don't understand these people. The foreigners apologize for their bad English, but their apologies just don't help. I think I've only met one guy not from North America that can speak English as well as me. (Hi, Karsten!) I also just can't stand the people with stupid nicknames. Mine isn't really great or anything, but come on. Who names himself after a clothing store? I would never even think about talking to someone named "Abercrombie_Guy" or "Old_Navy_Man". Also, anyone who calls herself "CheerleaderGirl" or "Weed-Smoka" should automatically be shot. There's nothing I love more than befriending the ops & getting them to ban those kind of people. It seems like the only people that are ever worth talking to are guys who are over 19 or 20. Maybe by the time they get to college, they realize that girls actually like to talk & not...do other things. I also don't understand why when I say "What do you like to do?", they all tell me what they look like. Like I really care what they look like. If I wanted to know, I would have asked. OK, I think that's all I have to say about this subject. Short & to the point. Just the way you like it.
Tuesday the 22nd of December: Yesterday, I went shopping at City Center with my mom, my crazy Aunt Dorothy, & my sister, Joanie. My crazy Aunt Dorothy (well, she's really my great-aunt) is just a little too old to understand what goes on in the heads of Joanie & me, but she really tries. She tries too hard, actually. That's the problem. My mom is a huge picture-taker wherever we go, so she was wanting to take pictures of all of us in the mall since we only go shopping with Crazy Aunt Dorothy once a year at Christmas time. Crazy Aunt Dorothy is always way into that, but when she saw that Joanie & I were telling Mom to put the camera away, she was like, "Yeah, we don't want any stupid pictures taken, do we girls?" & she kept saying, "I don't want any taken. Do you, Katie?" just to make sure that she was saying the right things. It's cool that she wants to be liked by me, but come on. She's old. There's no denying it. I'm just like, "Uh, yeah. Whatever." (She's also really nasty. Like she totally talks about everyone behind their backs. I do that, too, but she does it in that disgusting, old woman way.) Whenever we saw kids from my school & we stopped to talk to them, she would say, "Do you know these kids? Who are they?" to me. I'm like, "Get off it, woman. You can't have my friends." So, Joanie & I finally separated ourselves from Crazy Aunt Dorothy & Mom (Poor Mom. Left all alone with her.), & we ran into Mike & Charlie. They were going into Sam Goody as we were leaving, so we stopped & talked for a second. I don't remember what we said, but Joanie & I were looking for something for Mom, so we left to go to another store. As we were walking by Pacific Sunwear, Mike & Charlie saw us, & Mike called us in to check out this coat he wanted to buy. Charlie started telling this trippy story about this woman-hating barber that cut his hair the other day. (Joanie has always thought that I'm weird for hanging out with people like them, but I think she actually started to see why I do after that story. She was like completely laughing her head off.) Charlie asked me if he should get a silver thumb ring, & since I always wear one, I told him to go for it. We walked around a little bit more, but we needed to go to another mall to get some stuff, so we said "bye" & all that good stuff. Nothing much happened at the other mall. Oh, wait. I saw one of the guys that I once planned on marrying. He graduated last year. We passed him like 800 times. I swear he was following us, but he would never admit to that, of course. He still looks good. I bought a new thumb ring & Joanie got me a cool necklace. Then, Mom & Crazy Aunt Dorothy were ready to leave, so we left. (This is getting way long. Sorry. I'm so not done yet, though.) OK, so at about 5:00, Mike came over with my Christmas gift. (Yeah, he got me a gift. I swear he only did it because he knew I was getting him one, though.) I opened it up. It was the Empire Records soundtrack, which is about the coolest thing he could have gotten me. Video Killed the Radio Star isn't on it, but that's OK. The other songs are way cool. I'm listening to it right now. We decided to go rent a movie, so I drove us to Blockbuster in the freaking pouring rain. I forgot my stupid Blockbuster card, but luckily I had my driver's license with me. Mike wanted to see Trainspotting (I didn't know that he had never seen it. It's like one of my favourites.) The extremely hot guy who checked me out asked me if I had ever seen it. I said it was "one of my favourites" & he laughed. I think I might just marry him. On the way home, Mike & I discussed how weird it is that there's a rule about who gets hired at certain places. Like, I think it must be a rule that only extremely hot, dark-haired guys can be hired at Blockbuster. That's all you ever see in there. Oh, & at the bookstore at River Valley Mall, only really hot, artsy-type college guys & old women can be hired. We talked about some other stuff, too. Like the fact that we both think the opposite sex are idiots. He says that girls always say stupid stuff (except for girls like me, because I'm not real...don't ask.) I said that all guys my age are idiots (except for him & Charlie, of course), so I always have to go after older guys. It was the first remotely deep conversation we had had for like ever. OK, so when we got home, Crazy Aunt Dorothy was there again. This time, though, she was dressed in her Santa Claus costume. I used to think it was so cool when she would come to my house like that when I was little, because I seriously thought it was Santa. Even after I stopped believing (for all you kids out there--Santa is real! Don't listen to a word I say!), she still keeps coming. Mike wanted to just hide in my car until she left, but he ended up coming in. Let me tell you, he was seriously afraid. She made him get in scary pictures with Joanie & me. Wow, I swear he'll be scarred by that forever. OK, so we went upstairs to my room to watch Trainspotting, but I got called down when my dad's friend, Rick, came to visit. He wanted to give us Christmas presents. That was cool. Mike was totally afraid of the guy. I think he was still shaken up by the Crazy Aunt Dorothy thing. He wouldn't even come downstairs for fear that Rick was in a Santa suit or something. (I hope Mike doesn't read this. He may not want you to know that.) Umm...there's not much else to tell. The movie finished & Mike went home. It was a nice day overall. Well, I really hope you enjoyed learning about Crazy Aunt Dorothy. I think I'm going to have to make a page dedicated to her one day. Like Mister Rogers, she may just be an evil sex fiend. I haven't really found out yet.
Sunday the 20th of December: I helped Tracey put up her Christmas tree. That was interesting. It was completely different than putting up the at my house. My mom is this huge perfectionist when it comes to the tree, so she spends like 400 hours just making sure the white (they have to be white, only white) lights are evenly spread around the branches. She actually weaves the strands in & out of the branches so that the tree looks completely filled. It looks really classy until we put all of the ornaments my sister & I have made over the years on it. It still looks great, though. I have to hand that to Mom. Tracey's tree, on the other hand, was decorated entirely by Tracey & me. We used their really cool blue lights along with the multi-colored ones & covered the thing with tinsel. (Tracey & I had a quarrel over me calling it tinsel, too. She thinks the big, furry, strip-things that you wrap around the tree are called "garland" & the little thin strips that you throw all over the tree are called "tinsel". Now, I don't know about you, but I've really never heard a real human being call anything "garland". It's all tinsel if you ask me. Mike agrees with me on the subject, & since we're the two smartest people alive, that makes Tracey wrong. Wrong.) OK, well we covered the tree in two different kinds of so-called "garland" & put all of her weird-o ornaments on. It was a load of fun, but it was so different than ours.
Saturday the 19th of December: Now, I'd just like to tell a fun story that makes me smile. It has nothing to do with Christmas, but I figure that you want to hear everything about my life, so it really won't matter to you. OK, so have you ever noticed how easy it is to fit my name into every song ever made? Most of you don't know my last name, but if you did, you would realize how great it sounds in any & every song. All of them. Every single one. It's only my name, too. Not Tracey's, not Jeffy's, not Mike's, not Sheena's, not Josh's, not Stephanie's, not Elise's, not anyone except me. Mike said that one day, when he gets to be a famous rock star, he would like to make a CD that's filled with songs that are only about me. Once it got releases, people around the world would be saying, "Who is this 'Katie' chick?" Mike's band website would have a section totally about me, & it could include a link to Katie's Page O' Stuff. The world would be completely fascinated with me, but I would never forget Mike, the boy who wrote the CD about me, & you, the little people who once visited my site & read this. The CD would be so incredibly loved by people everywhere, that Mike's band would decide to make a second CD completely about me. There would be such a demand for anything about Katie that Mattel would have to stop production of Barbies, & start making Katie dolls. Cars & lockers alike would be covered with stickers of my face & little tidbits of information about me. Thousands of videos documenting a day in my life would be filmed & sold at NRM music stores everywhere. Mike's band would set a huge, comfy, leather chair in the center of the stage during concerts, & I would sit in it so that concertgoers could just sit & admire me. Mike would come over & sit with me during some of the really cool songs, just because that would make the crowd soooooo jealous of him, & that's what he wants more than anything. (Am I getting a little conceited yet?) Pretty soon, bands all across the country would be trying to get to know me just so they could write songs about me & earn loads of money, just like Mike. I wouldn't let them, though. I would tell them false stuff about me so that they could write stupid songs that have nothing to do with me. Mike & I could just sit back & laugh at them. Just laugh & laugh & laugh. Then, after about 40 albums, when Mike finally ran out of material for songs about me, his band would start to do covers of my favorite songs. None of the original bands would charge any royalties to Mike's band, because they would love me so much. Soon, the world would be filled with the most wonderful music. Music about me & music that I love. Doesn't that sound absolutely perfect? (I hope you remember saying that, Mike. If you don't make a CD about me, I'm going to be just a tad bit disappointed.)
Friday the 18th of December: So, today was my last day of school this year. I'm quite happy being on Christmas break, I'll have you know. I plan to do a lot of chatting at Tyler Reeves' No Association Page silverchair Chat (Hint, hint. Look for me.) & on mIRC. Tonight I'm going to help Tracey put up her Christmas tree. Isn't it sad that she does it all by herself? Her stupid brother (Hi, Jeff!) went somewhere with his stupid girlfriend (Hi, Angi!), so Tracey severely needs my help. (Not really, but it makes me feel good to tell myself that.)
Well, to make this pointless e-mail even less pointy (ha), I'd like to tell you all that I got a new AOL IM name tonight. It's Kakes81. Pretty scary, eh? I thought so. There's a story behind it, but I'm not going to tell it to you. But add me & talk to me & let me share my insights about men's thoughtlessness with you, OK? Good.
On to other dull, un-pointy things: Today I finally found someone else who likes Eve 6 as much as I do at my school. Mike hates them. With a passion. When we went CD shopping, I told him that he should get the CD, but he said he hates Eve 6. With a passion. I told him that you can't judge a CD by the one song that you know off of it, but he said he's heard the entire CD in his friend Heath's car. I know Heath. I think I planned to marry him at one time. I haven't talked to him at all this year, but today I finally did. He was drumming on one of my binders with some drumsticks that just happened to be laying around in our Band room, & he asked me if I minded. I didn't, so he just kept on drumming. I told him that I had heard that he likes Eve 6. He said that it's like his favourite CD. I told him that Mike was talking about how he hated them, but that Heath liked them a whole lot. He said they were one of his favourite bands right now. I thought that was cool. I may decide to marry him again.
Wednesday the 16th of December: I forgot to mention yesterday that one of the guys I plan to marry had pink hair today. That causes me some problems. Not that I have anything against pink hair or anything, but I never expected that from him. Why is it that all of my future husbands have to be so weird? One of them has pink hair, one of them has fake sideburns, & one of them wears those stupid yellow sunglasses (even though he looks really good in them).
OK, what I really wanted to write about is Christmas. Yes, Christmas. I hate Christmas shopping, you know. I never know what the heck to buy people. Some people are easy (to buy for, that is), but I have to really search for other people. Today I went to Best Buy with my sister to pick out something for Mike. I decided not to get him anything this year a few months ago, but then I decided last week that I just couldn't ignore the fact that he's alive. So, I picked out a CD for him today. I won't tell you what it is in case he would ever read this (which he won't, the bum). Last year, I got him a pot strainer (no, not pot pot, pot as in "pots & pans"). He acted all embarrassed that he didn't get me anything, but I didn't care. My gift to him was a joke, after all. I know he won't get me anything this year, because he's just not that thoughtful, but I'm cool with that. (I'm not going to mention the fact that he forgot my birthday, too. Oops! Just did. Why are guys like that?) Maybe the only reason that I get him a gift is to make him feel bad & to show him how superior I am to him. (Ha.) Don't you wonder what the heck goes on in my head? (Oh, sorry about the bashing, Mike. I realize that you can't help it.)
Tuesday the 15th of December: Well, I've officially decided that my English teacher is Satan. That's right. Satan. The woman made us memorize a speech from Hamlet, for monkey's sakes. (Did I just say "monkey's sakes"?) It was the one that starts out "To be or not to be". Yeah, you know what I'm talking about. I had to get up in front of the class & recite mine today. I love getting up & talking in front of people, but it's different when you have to say specific things. My teacher took off points for like every teeny, tiny, mistake I made, too. Well, mine went really well, but some of my friends had a heck of a time. If you paused anywhere in the speech or mispronounced anything, she started furiously scrawling notes and marking off points on her little notecard. It was scary, believe me. Oh, but back to her being Satan. She also teaches French, so all of the time, she'll suddenly start rattling off French during English class & look at us like we're idiots when we don't know what she's saying. That's her whole purpose for being put here on Earth, I swear. She also uses HUGE words that she thinks juniors in Honors English should know. No, actually, I think she uses words that we don't know purposely so that she'll feel like she has some power over us. She tries to scare us half to death, but I've seen through her thin facade. Oh, believe me. It's hell when you have Satan as your English teacher. (Get it? Hell? Satan? Nevermind.) By the way, I love you Mrs. Reams! (Not really, I just don't want her to beat me if she would ever happen to come here.)
Saturday the 12th of December: So I was at the mall today, looking around the extremely overpriced music store for anything good. I saw the Blink 182 shirt that I payed $7.99 for a few weeks ago for $15.99 & laughed. Then, I noticed the Duncan Sheik posters advertising his new album, Humming. I knew I had to have them, so I casually walked around the store, looking for a guy who worked there that I could smile at & get the posters from. Instead, I saw a girl I know from school. I asked her if I could buy them or something. She asked her manager if I could have them when the store was done with them. He looked at me & told her that I could have them right there & then. (I think it was my extreme amount of eyeliner & dark red lipstick that did it. Works every time, boys. Ha.) So, we began ripping them off of the wall. It was very cool. The crazy tape kept making them all stick together, but man, Duncan looks good in those pictures. Let me tell you, there's nothing like coming home from the mall with a bag full of Duncan Sheik. (Wow, was that possibly the most pointless story yet? I believe it was. Congratulations, Katie.)
Friday the 11th of December: You know, I was surfing around after school today & went to some crazy kid's site. He was talking about all the stuff he hates, & one of his biggest rants was about Mr. Rogers. Now, at first you're thinking, "What? Mr. Rogers was the greatest! What's wrong with this kid!?" Then, you read on & find out that the kid thinks that Mr. Rogers is a sicko who touches little boys. I thought, "That is so mean! Mr. Rogers is my hero!", but then I started thinking about it. I agree with the kid. Mr. Rogers is right up there with Michael Jackson & Kathie Lee Gifford. I mean, could any man who looks like him actually be a normal man? No, I didn't think so. Oh, & did you realize that the postman's name on there is Mr. McFeely? McFEELy? Oh, now come on. It's just too obvious, isn't it? (Check out my Scary Mr. Rogers page for more information.)
Tuesday the 8th of December: Last year's yearbooks were finally handed out at school yesterday, so today was quite interesting. I love our yearbooks, but they get stupider every year. Last year, the theme was "It's All That!" which was bad enough, but this year's is even worse. The theme that was picked was "Try 2 Be Different". Now, I'm sure the yearbook staff thought that was a great idea, but when you live in a town as small as mine, no one is different. No one even tries to be. As soon as Mike saw the cover of the thing, he flipped to the first page & said, "Oh, look. It's a picture of a bunch of people who are exactly the same!" Yeah. Well, today we had to do the whole signing-other-people's-books thing. It would be one thing if you just had your really close friends sign your yearbook, but there's like a contest to see who can get the most messages & signaures or something. So, you have to try to sit there & think up something mildly amusing for each separate person. I like all of the people who's yearbooks I sign, but I really don't have a lot to say to some of them. Of course, there are are people who write "Your a great friend. Don't change," on everyone's, but I just can't be one of those people. That leads me to the next yearbook problem--the people who can't spell. I've gotten so many "Your a (insert dull adjective here) friend"s in my yearbook over the years that I finally resorted to putting Post-It Notes all over the autograph pages reminding people that the contraction of "you are" is, in fact, "you're." It doesn't surprise me when people who are lacking a bit in the intellectual area write "your" instead of "you're", but when the same people who sit next to me in all of the honors classes write "your", I want to just go out & randomly shoot people. I'm sorry to tell this to all of you "your"-writing people, but misspelling that word is a definite sign of being white trash. (No one wants to be white trash, do they?) When I look at my yearbook 20 years from now, I don't want to be able to pick out the idiots in my class by looking at their spelling, but if things keep up this way...Oh, I don't want to think about it. OK, so the moral of the story is: I hate white trash! Good enough? Thought so.
Thursday the 3rd of December: I don't want this to turn into a "let's-talk-about-nothing-but-Mike" page, but I have a kind of funny story to tell. Well, at least it was funny to me. OK, my mom is an English teacher at the high school that I go to, & she has Mike & some of my other friends in her class. One of their assignments was to make a commercial for a new product. Mike is like obsessed with music, so he & his group decided to make a product called "Instant Rock Star". Tracey & I were in the room when they started filming the first part of the commercial, & let me tell you, it was hilarious. You see two girls crowded around this guy named J.R. & they're like all giggly & whatnot, because he's supposed to be a huge jock-type. Mike walks in in his Tom Petty shirt (yeah!) & J.R. calls him a dork. Mike looks at the camera & says something really Mike-ish like, "I can't never get no chicks!" or something. Then, Mike's best friend, Charlie, runs up to him & says something like, "Hey, man, you need some Instant Rock Star!" It was way funny when Charlie said it, though. He has to be the funniest person I've ever met. I'm not exactly sure what they're going to do from there, but I know it involves Queen songs and someone getting morphed into a rock star. With a little luck, it'll also involve someone wearing a lot of leather, if you know what I mean. You don't? Oh, well. That's it, kids.
Tuesday the 1st of December: I know this is probably something you don't give a monkey about, & I'll probably get beaten up by two of my friends for writing this, but I just have to. Sorry, guys.
OK, I have this friend (I don't want to mention her real name, so I'll just call her Bambi) who I've been going to the movies with & whatnot. She's nice & funny, but she's also a huge flirt. She has this sort-of boyfriend, but she's always trying to make him jealous by using other guys. Mike & I went to her house the other day to rent movies & go shopping, & I was pretty happy to be spending time with two of my favorite people. Everything was cool at first, but I kept noticing as we spent more time with my friend that she was hanging onto Mike. I know Mike isn't really into girls like her, so I was OK with it. Well, we started watching Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas (which, by the way, is an extremely trippy movie), & Bambi sat down on the couch next to Mike & spread herself across him, so I chose a chair on the other side of the room where I could keep an eye on her if I needed to. We gave up on the movie & left for the mall shortly, & as soon as we walked in the door, some guy from Bambi's old school attacked her. (OK, not literally attacked her, he started talking to her.) That was fine, but Mike was dying to get to Banana Republic to buy a sweater, so we went there after making a short stop at Gap. There were these pictures of that really hot guy from Veronica's Closet in BR sweaters, & I was talking about how he looked so warm that I wanted to cuddle with him. Anyway, Mike picked out this grey turtleneck sweater thing & went back to try it on. I heard him say my name, so I went back to the dressing rooms, & Bambi followed. He was standing there & he looked...umm...good to say the least. Bambi was talking about how good he looked & everything (he did), which made me almost sick. Well, I'll move the story along a few hours by saying that we went to Blockbuster & rented The Exorcist. (Bambi told Mike about how she & I were the perfect dates to horror movies, because we're both so freaked out by them.) On the way back to Bambi's house, I noticed that Mike was putting on his new sweater in the car. We got ready to watch the movie, but first, Mike had to make sure one last time that he looked as good as he thought he did in his sweater. He asked me innocently if I wanted to do with him what I wanted to do with the guy from Veronica's Closet, & believe me, I did. I was going to reach over to feel the sweater, but all of the sudden, Bambi reached over & started stroking his chest, totally uninvited. (No, no. I'm not upset or bitter about this in any way, as I'm sure you can tell.) Naturally, after she did it, I couldn't, so...Anyway, I sat on the middle cushion of her couch, but Bambi made me move over so Mike could sit between us. I was fine with that, whatever. OK, if you've seen The Exorcist, you know how scary it is, especially for a couple of girls who are totally wimps when it comes to that stuff. Bambi was like practically sitting on Mike, but I was trying not to be like her. When the crazy demon's eyes rolled back in her head, though, it was a little too much for me, & I was on Mike like maggots on a carcass. (Yummy thought, eh?) I got off of him quickly, but Bambi was quite content having her hands all over him. I think I was about to get sick at that point again, but it could have just been the disgusting demon. (OK, I'm lying.) Well, uh, there's not a whole lot more to tell. We finished the movie & took Mike home. All the way back to her house, Bambi was talking about how she thought Mike was definitely into her (it doesn't matter that he's my future husband or anything. Umm...yeah.), and I kinda believed he was, too. Can I say "eww"? Eww. All right, sorry this was so long, kids. Thanks for reading. :)
