Some sort of...Ghost Ship?

On Friday night Samm and I watched an epic motion picture. Yes, epic. By epic I mean it is right in the same category as Titanic, The Perfect Storm, and other sea-faring classics. Why, you ask? Because the directors of Ghost Ship snuck into the vaults where the original copies of these films are kept, and stole a few scenes from both of them to complile Ghost Ship. 

Add to that a very statistically diverse cast that makes up the discovery team: a very smart African American man, who has all the right ideas, but is listened to by NOBODY, a pseudo Hispanic named Santos, an all-American blonde boy, the token obese representitive who, ironically is frequently shown eating, the sage Man of the Sea whose experience works against him, and of course, the only woman on the crew. In addition to the actual crew, is the far-to-good-to-be-true, obviously evil (thanks to extensive focusing of this character's face in the beginning) instigator. I'll let you guess in what order the above characters died in, and who the sole survivor of the movie was. Don't think too constructively. It will come to you.

The soundtrack is also a force to be reckoned with; as the entire flashback sequence, circa 1962, is set to a charmingly uplifting 80's techno beat. The fact that Cinemax gave it only one asterisk is an outrage. A more appropriate title may have been The Perfect Titanic.

But boy, do I love bad movies. I really want to own this one. Oh wait. I already do!

Film Paleontology.

Last night Samm and I rediscovered Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2: The Secret of the Ooze, circa 1991. Oh. Man. Dontatello is a very very misunderstood turtle who has withheld his homosexual tendencies from his turtle brothers and weepy eyed mutant rat mentor for his entire existance.

Vanilla Ice had a cameo in TMNT2. His hit single, Ninja Rap, was the title song for the soundtrack. I need to find that soundtrack.

If you own this movie and have let it collect dust over the past 13 years, now is the time to dig it out and enjoy. Embrace the mutants, with all of their puppeted glory. Embrace the gigantic rodent Sensai that was just in the "wrong place at the wrong time" and never asked to be mutated and burdened with goverening four pizza munching maniacs. Last but not least, embrace Shredder, with his helmet of steel and burlap ninja suit and grunting sidekick.

Love from the Randalls, 2002.

Here's last year's fabricated Christmas letter, written by yours truly. I'm sorry to say that it's not too far off from some of the 100% serious letters I get every year that describe the achievements and purchases of the past 11 months. 
Christmas, 2002

To our dearly beloved Family and Friends,

Well, another year has gone by and all too soon I find myself sitting at this 2002 Dell computer equipped with CD burner and duel speakers, typing out this year’s update on my glorious family. And what a year it has been. Each day I wake up and find that my children have grown more beautiful, and I have nobody to thank for that besides Mark and myself. 

Our splendid eldest daughter Danielle is now nearing 17 years of age. We have had to remove her from yet another school, as a result of the severe case of schizophrenia that she has seemed to develop. She is now living at home, having completely dropped out of school, and is thriving as a master of the custodial arts at nearby Market Basket. Although some would say that her illness is a definite negative point, we see no harm in her making friends, be they real life or simply in her head. 

And then there’s Ian. As a present for his 14th birthday in March, Mark and I presented him with the one thing he desperately wanted. A sex change operation. He is now legally female, and has changed his name to Anne. We are absolutely tickled that he has found his true form of self expression and we couldn’t be happier with our beautiful new daughter who, incidentally, made the Varsity Field Hockey team this year and was a candidate for Homecoming Court. We were so proud.

And then there’s sweet Adrienne, who has entered the double digits at the age of 10 completely relieved of her little addictions, compliments of some extremely expensive hypnosis therapy. Luckily the principal of her elementary school was able to be paid off by us in exchange for the extensive damage that Adrienne inflicted upon a fellow classmate over a lost pen. Little Gina’s ear has been successfully sewn back on, and luckily our hiring of a very honest ambulance chaser of a lawyer saved us from any severe charges.

Finally, Mark and I would like to announce to you all news of our latest purchase, a very pricey new vehicle. Luckily we didn’t pay a penny for it, our dear family lawyer sued every last cent out of the Leominster City Garbage department for smashing into our former van, and our profits went to a new car as well as Anne’s little operation. Now I don’t want to make any of you jealous, but as you can see, my perfect family is an absolute dream. I can only hope that the same joy and pride I feel for the beauty and affluence of my family can be felt for yours as well during this phenomenal holiday season. And, if not, my prayers are with you and better luck next year.

All our love and affection and thoughts,

Mark, Michelle, Danielle, Ian/Anne, and Adrienne

Expecto Patronum!

Well, it's official. One side of my nose works and the other does not.

If there's one thing I hate, it's when you can breathe out of one nostril and not the other.

It feels so asymmetrical.

On a lighter note, I was BOMBARDED with Christmas letters today. Two in one day! I love Christmas letters, especially the ones that go on forever about how WONDERFUL the year has been, thanks to ____'s incredible financial SUCCESS, how BRILLIANT the children are, and so on. One of the two we got today was from my mom's aunt and uncle, and it began with the token 'cheap pity plea' by describing Aunt's broken leg and Uncle's torn cornea.

Christmas letters are one of the many things I find funny that lots of people don't. Others include infomercials, telemarketers, and calling consumer hotlines. All of which are EXTREMELY entertaining, if experienced in the right context.

Usually I write a blatantly obnoxious Christmas letter for MY family that is a mockery of all of those that we get that people write in all seriousness. Maybe I'll post my letter from last year. 

I made cupcakes tonight. And ate two of them.

I need to start a more regular gym regimen. I'm starting to feel really lazy. Generally speaking, I'm not lazy, I enjoy DOING stuff, but there just hasn't been much to do...or so I think. I COULD start reading my outside reading for English, I COULD start researching Emily Dickenson, I COULD study lines for my plays, I COULD study psycho, I COULD review for math...

I blame my illness. This cold is taking over my life, and will probably evolve into...dum dum DUM...the FLU. OR WORSE...

A MORE SEVERE STRAND OF SENIORITIS (which I have been plagued with ever since Junior year)

Looks like orange juice, Nyquil, and some quality The O.C. tonight.

Only my mom.

Two large, burly men came over this morning to install cable in my basement.

As I write this, they are getting a vacuum cleaner demonstration from my mother, who is convincing them that they would "trade any vacuum cleaner they own for a Rainbow vacuum cleaner."

They were especially impressed with the vanilla scented oil to drop in the vacuum water to freshen the air whilst sucking up massive amounts of dust, dander, and debris. 

It's amusing.

Actual quote from Cable Man # 2: "Wow! That IS amazing! And it smells great!"

That was a very loud beep.

So this week's over.

Weeks feel so long as they're going by, but when they're finally over...Where'd they go? I feel like this year is flying by faster than time has ever gone by before, and that really scares me. I can honestly say that this year is right up there with junior year on the Greatness Scale.

Looking back on the past two years, a lot of crappy things have happened. Crappy things that I never expected or anticipated or thought that I would ever have to deal with. But despite the crappy, this past year and a half have honestly been the best of my life. 

When I was younger, I always saw myself dancing all the way through high school. I thought that would have been pretty cool, because in the past, senior dancers always got some sort of recognition. I knew that that wouldn't happen for me though, because I had never really stayed at a dance school long enough to become a fixture. So whatever, what else would I do?

I never thought in a million years that my senior year would be what it is. As a freshman, I could not WAIT to get out of St.Bernard's. Time there went by so slowly, and I know for a fact it was because I didn't care enough to get involved. If someone had told me then that as a senior, I not only would be back where I belonged, but I'd be a Television Production/ Theatre kid, I wouldn't have believed it. Because back then, there's no way I would have had the courage to do any of the things I do.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that in the long run, I am extremely lucky. I'm lucky that I was able to take Out of the Blue LAST year, because thanks to that, I had the amazing experience of being able to know LHS TV Production for what it was meant to be, with awesome boys that made that class what it was. I'm very very lucky to have those memories, because thanks to them, I know what to do with LEACTV today.

I'm lucky X 3,000 that there were open spots left for the France trip at the beginning of last year. That was the trio of a lifetime, and I have more memories from those 12 days than I could ever write. France opened my eyes to something completely new and different and wonderful, and that is something that can never be taken away from me. It was fantastic beyond belief, and chatting about the memories always provides countless entertainment.

I'll always be grateful that I was given the oppurtunity to have ended up with my part in the musical last year. That, my friends, was the epitome of luck, but I felt as though I truly won some sort of lottery. I was so happy to be 1/4 of a group of Fallen Angels, which was totally a bonding experience. Even if nobody understood the joke that was one of my two? lines. Anything Goes was truly cosmic.

Can I talk about cosmic now? Cosmic is SENIOR year. It is Summer, 2003, mange-a-thons, PONS, Seagulls, Girraffes, Extravaganzas, and Eating Great. Cosmic was Ten Little Indians. It IS the Princess and the Princess, and Sure Thing, and Philip Glass Buys a Loaf of Bread. I never thought I'd have the chance to be a part of these shows, I thought that not dancing this year would be a mistake, and that I'd miss the performing. But I don't have time to. I feel like I'm exactlyt where I'm supposed to be, that this is what I love to do. When you get something that you desparately want, but thought would never happen, it truly knocks you off your feet. 

I've been knocked off my feet, and I never want to get up.

To Hufflepuff with your sorry ass!

Before I talk about my astounding discovery, let me give you some background.

Next year, LHS is going to be changing its schedule. Instead of having the normal 6 out of 7 period day that we all know and love, the school is going to be *TRANSOFRMED* into several "magnet" type schools within the school. Kind of like a Liberal Arts college. Or a trade school. I'm going to go with glorified, prepare yourself for the future trade school. 

So today in Psycho, Rinho was describing the different areas of education as "Houses". Okay kids. Here's your question.

WHAT OTHER SCHOOL IS SEPARATED BY HOUSES?

So obviously this is all just a clever fascade that hides the fact that Leominster High School is no ordinary high school. Next year, my friends, it is turning into HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY.

I'm just very sorry that I won't be around to experience it.

NoahB4Me826 [3:20 PM]: i wish I was going to LHS next year! 
NoahB4Me826 [3:20 PM]: i would milk this for all it's worth 
NoahB4Me826 [3:20 PM]: make sure ian gets into gryffindor 

Today was a great day, in case you didn't already figure that out. Had a great guidance appointment to send away college applications, drew some great animals in English, had a great lack of math class, and I get to look foward to great fun at rehersal.

Oh man. I'm such a nerd. But I find this SO FUNNY.

There it goes.

Today was lovely, as every day after a blizzid is.

My driveway is a slippery mixture of sheer ice, slush, and snow. These conditions make a normally not so steep driveway practically vertical. Everyone in my family knows this.

Natale, however did not. Apparantly Elroy (aka The Neon) had a tough time, before he finally just gave up completely. Walking DOWN said driveway is extremely dangerous. I've wiped out my fair share of times.

But it's okay because I love blizzids.

Today I went and worked the house for QED at the synogogue. Samm, Natale, Willie, and myself along with Talia and Leeann handed out approximately 18 programs and ripped 18 tickets. Yes, these 18 fans of Mr. Lew braved the treachery to come and see the show. It was worth it. I was thoroughly impressed.

He got to wear a very tribal headdress, a stick from which was left clinging to about 3 strands of hair for the majority of Act 2, confirming our whole Mufasa/Lewfasa theory.  Samm and I tried to blow it off from the back row, but to no avail. Finally, it dropped, but not until after that stick had taken its fair share of stage time.

The lack of audience also left a surplus of intermission snacks. We drank and poured Waist Watchers Citrusy Frost, Raspberry Ginger Ale and ate little bites of chocolate covered cheesecake heaven. Classic synogogue food. Raspberry Ginger Ale is something else. It definately must have had something to do with Moses' success in freeing the Jewish slaves. I know I'd believe anyone who offered me raspberry ginger ale.

Natale thought we were playing Family Double Dare with the Citrusy Frost, and sloshed about a cup's worth of soda onto the table while getting an inch worth of Frost in the cup. Priceless.

Theatre fun is good fun.

Anyway, I am about 1 paragraph away from application completion. Holy Crap. That's a wonderful feeling.

If I hear Hillary Duff say ONE MORE TIME that she's just like any other regular girl, I'm going to stop liking her. I'm a regular girl. Do I have a record deal? Do I get Punk'd? Do I have Louis Vuitton luggage? Face it Hillary. You're a celebrity. Deal with it.

Christmas Vacation is on tonight. I love Christmas Vacation.

Time to go tackle that paragraph about how honesty is imporant. Hah. Yeah right.

Forget this.

I'm considering throwing in the towel on these college applications and moving to Costa Rica to become a modern pirate wench. It probably wouldn't be the most practical move, but it would also be less stressful. The closest we ever had to pirates in Massachusetts is the Pilgrims.

They weren't so hot. Most of them died within a week. The few who survived were probably charged with witchcraft in Salem, and if they survived that, the French and Indian War was probably a major downfall. The raptors ate the rest.
I hate it when people become "too cool". I will never be too "too" for anything.

"Milo, come. Don't bark at people. It's Christmas!" - Mom

Here's what I hate. Being ignored. Just laying it out there.

Anyway, I don't think this week could've been any longer. I'm so glad it's finally the godforsaken weekend, and to make things even BETTER:

THERE'S A BLIZZARD HEADED OUR WAY.

There is nothing I love more than a good blizzard. Especially when I have nowhere to go and nothing to do except hole myself away and eat marshmallows. I'm looking foward to it. Anyone up for extreme sledding down my street? Last time I did that, Meggies, Cole, Kerri and I dressed up in 80's snow-onsies and hiked up my street to sled down the other side. It was extreme. But not as extreme as Canadian sledding, which is a sport all its own. 

Yesterday was Les Mis, which was an absolute extravaganza. It was Drama club joy at it's best, and I don't think I've ever seen a better musical. I don't think our seats could have been better either, seeing as we could easily determine the color of each character's eyes. The experience was completed with Regina's tears over not just the play, but the moterized lighting fixtures as well. 

Lighting fixtures are breathtaking.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Day After Thanksgiving Christmas Shopping IS all it's cracked up to be.

So this Thanksgiving was actaully quite relaxing. It was nice and quiet but still very family oriented, which is something I look foward to about this time of year. 

I also went to my second ever Thanksgiving football game. Leominster lost again, for the fourth consecutive year in a row. That right there is a consistant tradition. Fitchburg deserved to win, anyway. They had an 8 foot pimp dressed in white fleece on their side. I mean, come on. Talk about your angels in the end zone.

Today I went Extreme Shopping with Lizzy and my mother. By extreme I mean wake up at 4:30 and head to Wrentham Outlets for 6:00 door buster sales. Throw in some crazed sale hunters, frigid rain and 3/4 of the Chinese population and you've got yourself a downright obstacle course. Asians in the face of bargains turn vicious, let me tell you. They were snatching up Burberry raincoats like they were going out of style. 

After Wrentham we went to Copley Place, where the lovely employees do their best to keep shoppers from fainting by standing outside their stores handing out complimentary bottles of J.Jill water and FCUK candycanes. 

But it was totally worth it, because there is nothing I love more than Christmas shopping. All I need now is some sugar cookies and snow and I'll be a happy girl.

Once upon a time...

Yay.

I can't believe Thanksgiving is next week. This year is flying, and it freaks me out.

The icing on the cake that was today had to be watching Mel Gibson at his finest in Hamlet. And I thought I'd never appreciate Shakespeare.

I appreciate lots of things I never thought I'd be able to appreciate.

Attack!

Boston Globe auditions today...did a lot of screeching, which was fun. I love to screech.

One can only hope for the best and trust that what's meant to be will be.

I get to be an answering machine message in Mr. Lew's QED show. How cool is that? I was excited, my "character"'s name is Nora Bell, and she's smart. I recorded it today, and that will be the LAST time I ever say "I'm in your Intro to Physics class". Because I despise Physics.

Just disregard this journal entry. I'm one of those odd people who get butterflies AFTER the audition's already OVER. So I'm now channeling my energy into typing. Not college essays, mind you, but a Livejournal. Ah, go figure.

Guess what I'M doing tomorrow afternoon. I get to go to the movies before the price gets jacked up to 7.50 at 6:00 to watch the PREMIERE of the Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban trailer when it's shown on the Looney Tunes Movie. Completely worth my $4.75. The Looney Tunes Movie, however is not. I think the producers KNEW that their movie would fail the INSTANT that they cast Dharma in it, so they figured they'd ask to be the first to show the 'Arry Po'er trailer JUST to drag obsessed schlups like myself, Samm, and Anna in, so that their film wouldn't be a complete failure. Maybe it'll be number one for the weekend...that'd be funny.

Okay waayyy too much on the Looney Tunes/ Harry Potter plan...

I need to go, before I start rambling some more.

Eat the ice cream.

C'est la vie.

I have such a B*Witching title...I don't know where it came from, because I haven't heard that song in about 30 years. From what I remember though, it'll probably be one of those compulsively annoying songs that we in Drama find wonderful.

Field trip yesterday, buckets of fun. We went to the New England Theatre Conference in Rhode Island and got to compete in various contests. I participated in the Dance Decathalon with Megan and Levasseur, and the Five Minute Play Dash with the previously mentioned, Kenny, David Prescott, Scott, and Leeann. For this event, our group was the ONLY group to have brought the 10 allotted props from school. And were they ever colorful. We had:
-A portrait of the Last Supper which was found in some dust-forsaken cabinet in E-Wing and has been hanging in the Dressing Room.
-The noose from Ten Little Indians.
-The roses from Anything Goes.
-A random plastic feathered owl with a baby moniter in it...no idea what that was, or how it found us.
-The bear rug from Ten Little Indians

Among other, less impressing props that we just used because they fit our story, such as Kenny's lunch.

Our play didn't win, but it was great. Maybe I'll tell you about it, if you ask, it's just one of those things you need to hear and see in person.

Natale won, of course, a Bronze plaque in singing. So wonderful. Words cannot describe. And Ricky "The Light Guy" Combs represented big time and took home the Gold for the Speed Lighting competition. That was awesome.

And then we went to Wendy's and Galactic Bowling, which was a new experience that I can't wait to do again, because there's something about glow-in-the-dark bowling balls AND shoes paired with lasers ans strobe lights and 80's music that makes a place super special. Even though I stink royally at bowling.

I wish I weren't babysitting today, because my mom and sister are going into Boston with my aunt and uncle and cousin. It's a perfect city day, too bad I'll be wasting it watching movies and coloring and playing stupid dek hockey. Oh well.

Samm's Musical Out of the Blue Extravaganza is coming out famously. I have one question though, to ask the general public:

To have people talking in it...or NOT to have people talking in it?

Let the cuticle chewing begin.

Since I was sitting here, not writing a Psycho essay and waiting for my frozen beef stew to clunk out of its tupperware and into a pot so that I can heat it up and eat it, I thought, why not update?

So here I am.

Every time I eat beef stew I think of Meaghan Garrahan. And Tuesday jazz class. And across-the-floor-stopping-mad-dashes-into Kidzworld. Oh man, some things I'll never forget: Mansuits, Turret's-Shelby, and ice cream/ D'Angelo/ Venient breaks.

About a year ago, I was wearing that beautiful carpet bag of a mansuit and dancing like a fool. Those were the days.

I want Ten Little Indians back.

I'm starting to get stressed over Boston Globe now...I wish I could just audtion and get it over with, because that's the part I hate, and right now all I want is to be IN that play. I want to have stuff to do after school again, besides homework, but who does that anyway?

Pashaw. I really believe that everything happens for a reason, so this, like other things, is a matter of whatever happens happens. All I can do is cross my fingers.

My dog is real dumb. It's freezing and raining, and he's banging on the door to come in, so I open it, but when this happens, he runs away and makes me stand in the door, letting the cold air and wetness in, for about 5 minutes while he stares at me and ponders coming in or not. So I close the door, only to have the whole process be repeated. Some sort of canine ding-dong ditch. Come on, Milo, let's think: Sit in the rain...or come into a nice warm house...apparantly the Golden Retriever mentality is sit in the rain with a pathetic look on your face.

Someone's charming. And that's all I have to say before I finish this entry with a nice SURVEY...

A-Act your age: Usually...I don't take myself too seriously though, thank God.

B-Best Friend: You all know who you are. Yes, YOU.

C-Chore you hate: Vacuuming. I really really hate vacuuming.

D-Dad's name: Mark

E-Essential daily item: Eccinacea to prevent any type of illness...you scoff, but it's working!

F-Favorite actress/actor: Audrey Hepburn, Mel Gibson

G-Gold or silver: Silver

H-Hometown: Leominster, Massachusetts

I-Instrument you play: The lovely VIOLIN (Crucible anyone?)

J-Job Title: Student and Regular Childcare Provider (That's what I put on my college apps)

K-Kids: They can be cute, some more than others

L-Living arrangements: My house with my parents and my brother and my sister

M-Mom's name: Michelle

N-Number of pets: Milo the Georgian Golden Retriever who plays idiodic mind games and Zoe the vicious calico with murder in her eyes.

O-Overnight hospital stays: Zero

P-Phobia: Insects, snakes, spiders

Q-Quote: "Two things stand like stone, kindness in another's trouble, courage in your own."-Princess Diana

R-Religious affiliation: Catholic

S-Siblings: Ian, 15, and Adrienne, 11

T-Time you wake up: Alarm goes off at 6:00, but I don't roll out of bed until Mike Wankam of the WB 56 tells me the weather for Kiss 108. So usually between 6:09-6:11

U-Unique habit: I can scream really loud and do random things in front of people without getting humiliated...that's probably just a lack of certain nececarry inhibitions

V-Vegetables you refuse to eat: Brussels Sprouts...I've actually never had them, but since my dad despises them, they've never been cooked in my house...so maybe it's not so much a refusal as it is a lack of option

W-Worst habit: I chew my thumbs and can sometimes be boisterous...I also hate to admit it, but I just dont' care about things sometimes

X-X-rays you have had: Six billion. I had braces. My parents are dentally-employed. They do it for fun sometimes, I swear.

Y-Yummy food you make: Oh, banana chocolate chip pancakes, cinnamon/apple/cream chees tortilla roll ups, fondant cakes, cupcakes, bruschetta...basically all Samm and I did all summer was concoct.

Z-Zodiac sign: Aquarius.

All good things.

I hate the day after the last show. You don't know withdrawal until you spend a good quarter of your year working on something to have it be over in a matter of 4 nights.

But now I can give away the ending. Natale was the killer. Ha. Ha. Ha.

Seriously though, last night was without a doubt a great way to end it. The first night was spectacular, and so was the last. We have the audiences to thank for that, you guys made all the difference in the world. I've said it once and I'll say it a million billion more times: I am so So SO grateful to have had the chance to be Vera. Truly, it was one of the best experiences of my life!

And now it's over, and I would like to say that my little ceramic indian has officially survived her 1/3 chance of being smashed into smithereens. She's on a survivor.

But hey, we have a field trip on Friday...and Boston Globe auditions in a week. Here we go again, the beginning is a very good place to start.

How perfectly lovely.

ARE YOU OKAY?!

This has been such a light week...for some reason there is really no necessary homework to be done.

And I just jixed myself.

Not having rehearsals this week has been bonkers. I'm actually looking foward to a speedlinethru tomorrow, and especially to performances Friday and Saturday...but by no means do I want this to be over. Before I get feh-clempt, let me just tell you to come see Ten Little Indians on Friday and or Saturday night at 8:00. I don't care if you've seen it already.

After school today Hatale and I kidnapped Jess Levasseur again and wrapped 2 directers gifts we bought yesterday when we kidnapped her the first time. Then we went to Panera and the movies. Scary Movie 3= Somewhat Dumb, but funny nonetheless.

Fahts. I have a dilemma, and let me tell you I hate dilemmas, especially these types of dilemmas. Let me just say dilemma one more time, because it's starting to look really weird. Dilemma. Dilema. Crap. Now I don't know if it's 1 "m" or 2. Whatever.

I need a Plan. A muahaha evil laugh devious lets-sit-back-and-watch-it-work type of Plan.

Why is it that all good things have to come to an end so soon?

Why is it that other kinds of good things take so long to work out?

Talk amongst yourselves.

Come pick my roses.

Here's what I love:

Samm for her sign and cupcakes
Lovesquishes
Lizzy and Pooky for being wonderful
Megan for not laughing and being OLD
Levasseur for coming to us and basically being mini-me
Eating Great
Every SINGLE former LHS student sitting in the front row and being themselves. You all know who you are.
Kenny for just being himself
Theate traditions
Low Ponies
Cermaic Indians
And last but definately not least, Natale, for keeping me almost "sane in the accepted sense of the word."

I'm far too overwhelmed even now to write complete sentences about last night.

Bring on round two.

UMass.

Samm and I had an absolute ball at the UMass information session today. Despite the fact that we completely missed the Autumn Event, which began at 9:30 this morning, and since I realized this at 1:30 this morning, it was just too late to change any plans. 

So Samm came over at 11, and we made banana-chocolate-pancake tacos with whipped cream. Sound good?

You have no idea.

So we chased the pancakes with some Tostitos and salsa and headed out for Amherst, Celine Dion-ing it the entire way. As we were singing "It's All Coming Back" and the like over and over, in a Canadian accent of course, we finally reached our destination, and what a destination it was.

We took the campus tour and made our very first friends, Mr. and Miss PDA 2003. Totally Feely McTouchy and Holdy McHoldhands. It was cold, so the Mr. offered his sweatshirt to the Miss, leaving him in an undershirt like article of clothing against the bitter cold winds. First of all, this really bothered me, as the girl's mom was with her, in her 5,000 layers of winterwear, watching her daughter's poor homely boyfriend shelter her shoulders with his only means of warmpth. Whatever. Let me just say that this girl had THE nicest set of gums I have ever seen. Samm and I got a sweet side view of this protrusion, and it was literally GUMS and oh yeah, I think I saw some teeth. Awesome.

Then we got home, and the fun didn't end there. Natale, Katie, Samm, and I all decided to head to Barnes and Noble for a solid hour or so, and then eat great even late at Taco Bell, laughing our a's off at bean coud and lifts and just having a grand grand time. We also went to AJ Wright, and found some supremely large glittery underwear that were on sale for a low, low price of .99 because they were deemed "slightly imperfect". I don't know about you, but that just makes me want to slap on a pair.

Sox appeal.

"The Red Sox are a way of life, the lifestyle of an entire region. There isn't another place where baseball matters the way it does in Boston and throughout New England. The Red Sox are a major part of peoples' daily existence. I want to play my entire career in Boston. I want to win for these fans, because the fans there deserve a championship because they invest so much of their lives in the Red Sox. I want to win a World Series obviously, but I want it to be in Boston, because when that time comes and the Red Sox fans are running out in the middle of the field, it may be one of the greatest experiences ever in sports. " -Nomar Garciaparra

For some reason, this quote basically sums up living in Massachusetts for me. Now, I'm no die-hard baseball fan, but I do enjoy heading out to Fenway in the summer, and this whole World Series looming over the heads of a team that deserves a chance is really exciting. So GO SOX.

I love where I live. People always talk about how much they want to get away, but I genuinely love New England. Especially at this time of year

An idiot savant.

NoahB4Me826 [8:45 PM]: "What's your roomate like?"

"Oh she's great.. she plays the piano and only eats ketchup packets and kool-aid, but the other kids said she was the special one" 

-Samm on random college roommate assignment and what it would be like to be assigned an idiot savant as a roommate.

Random roommate assignment is a tricky little business. You can either end up with your future best friend/ siamese twin...or you can get your polar opposite, or even a ketchup drinking, powdered kool-aid munching idiot savant.

I am incredibly politically incorrect.

While I'm at it, let me just lay this out there:

Affirmative Action: Possibly THE worst idea ever. Come on now. Were you a slave? Were your grandparents slaves? No. No compensation is needed, so let's just all follow the whole "All men created equal" bit where everyone has a fair chance. It will only help you in the long run.

Anyone got any controversial subjects they want to argue with Conservative Randy? Bring em on, I'm all fired up.

Is it Burger King who's slogan is "The fire's waiting?"

I love how, with Samm, when I type "LOL" I actually am cracking up. Out loud. Cackling, really.

I just got in the best mood.

Fondant frosting is my new favorite thing. 

Go Red Sox, whoo!

Turn around.

I think Total Eclipse of the Heart wins the award for EASIEST SONG TO ATTATCH ITSELF TO YOUR BRAIN. Nicole commented earlier that every time she forgets it, some random person starts singing it again...and that is the absolute truth. It's everywhere. You may think that because of this, I'd know the whole song.

I don't.

And yes, it's Friday night, and yes it's approximately 8:00, and I am offically a grade A stay at home nerd. How nerdy you ask?

I just baked bread. Or rather, I'm in the process of baking bread. I'm a regular pioneer.

Except pioneers didn't have bread making machines. Or computers, for that matter. They lived in Oregon. And Minnesota. Come to think about it, those states may not have computers or bread makers even to this day. Unless they sell them at Independence...

I dropped a glass jar of Polander's Spreadable Fruit (NOT jelly, mind you, SPREADABLE FRUIT) on my toe. Not fun. At all.

One thing that is annoying beyond all reason is whenever I get angry and speak in a tone of voice that is a notch or two higher than my normal slightly louder than average volume, my parents blame it on drama and tell me to "save it for the stage". Not only does this make no sense, it is, as I said, annoying beyond all reason. First of all, the fact remains that if I'm irritated, my voice level rises, and I can't help it. It's not forced by any means. The actual act comes into play when I pretend that this sentiment does not bother me.

I can't wait until the day when my brother starts randomly kicking stuff and bouncing objects off of his head in frustration so I can blame it on soccer and tell him to "save it for the field". That'll be fun. Not to mention hilarious, because I don't know what would prompt him to do this.

The 2nd epiosde of Out of the Blue came on tonight. Watch it. The pieces are really good. Much better than last week, now that rap and the kid who kneels on his sneakers have been banned from LEACTV9 forever. 

Right. Time to wrap up this time-killing entry, be thankful that you didn't have the time to write it, because I'm sure all of you were busy busy busy! Bah.

Jiffy Lube.

Service auction tomorrow, come bid on members of the drama club to do various tasks and chores for you. Proceeds will directly benefit the drama club to help it continue is excellence in theatre.

It will be a grand time. There will be donuts. Lots and lots of Dunkin Donuts donuts. Mbah.

Today Natale and I left rehersal with big plans to buy more plastic tablecloths to use trimming for the runway, and also to purchase beat fish to put in lovely little glass vases and use as centerpieces that will obviously be for sale, because we are the drama club, unsupported by society, and desparate for every last cent.

So we get into his car and the left blinker is tweaking out, so automatically the mechanic in me says "It means your turn singal light is out." So I got to watch Natale use his left hand signal across town. Yay for me. I couldn't believe my luck.

It only got better when Natale suggested to his dad that we take the car to JIFFY LUBE to fix the turn signal and break light, which was out also. I love his ignorance when it comes to cars. 

Since the light was deemed unfixable, turn signals remained our only option. So he sucked it up, I laughed very hard, and we set off to kidnap Samm to assist in the purchasing of beta fish. This was an adventure in itself, as the Fish Master at Petco was about 3,000 years old with about 5 teeth and, when asked "How much are the beta fish" he simply responded "Males." Nothing more, nothing less, and nothing to do with any kind of price check. Just "Males".

There are now six lovely beta fish and six lovely jars of neutralized water (adjusting itself to room temprature as we speak) in my drama locker. It looks like a fish farm. Of course, beta fish get very defensive when they see another beta fish, or even their own reflection. So each plastic cup containing a poisson is separated with a bit of paper towel.

If I open that locker tomorrow to find six lovely belly up beta fish, I will be entirely disappointed. I'll get over it though, because the money will not have gone to waste. If they for some reason all croak, or as Meghann diagnosed "get Ick" (Ick is apparantly a fatal beta fish disease) we will simply bread them, bake them, and serve em up as hors d'eurves.

Yum.

Your Neighborhood Jiffy Lube

Service auction tomorrow, come bid on members of the drama club to do various tasks and chores for you. Proceeds will directly benefit the drama club to help it continue is excellence in theatre.

It will be a grand time. There will be donuts. Lots and lots of Dunkin Donuts donuts. Mbah.

Today Natale and I left rehersal with big plans to buy more plastic tablecloths to use trimming for the runway, and also to purchase beat fish to put in lovely little glass vases and use as centerpieces that will obviously be for sale, because we are the drama club, unsupported by society, and desparate for every last cent.

So we get into his car and the left blinker is tweaking out, so automatically the mechanic in me says "It means your turn singal light is out." So I got to watch Natale use his left hand signal across town. Yay for me. I couldn't believe my luck.

It only got better when Natale suggested to his dad that we take the car to JIFFY LUBE to fix the turn signal and break light, which was out also. I love his ignorance when it comes to cars.

Since the light was deemed unfixable, turn signals remained our only option. So he sucked it up, I laughed very hard, and we set off to kidnap Samm to assist in the purchasing of beta fish. This was an adventure in itself, as the Fish Master at Petco was about 3,000 years old with about 5 teeth and, when asked "How much are the beta fish" he simply responded "Males." Nothing more, nothing less, and nothing to do with any kind of price check. Just "Males".

There are now six lovely beta fish and six lovely jars of neutralized water (adjusting itself to room temprature as we speak) in my drama locker. It looks like a fish farm. Of course, beta fish get very defensive when they see another beta fish, or even their own reflection. So each plastic cup containing a poisson is separated with a bit of paper towel.

If I open that locker tomorrow to find six lovely belly up beta fish, I will be entirely disappointed. I'll get over it though, because the money will not have gone to waste. If they for some reason all croak, or as Meghann diagnosed "get Ick" (Ick is apparantly a fatal beta fish disease) we will simply bread them, bake them, and serve em up as hors d'eurves.

Yum.

Regular.

Of course I'm not supposed to be writing an AP Psych paper right now.

I realized that I mostly write in this thing when I'm supposed to be doing something else. That's interesting. This is really just a ploy to distract college-bound procrastinators, I see how it is.

Today was great. I actually went home after school for the first time in about 3 weeks. Freaky.

So I get home from school today, and am home for about an hour when Samm and Natale come on down, ready to go to the library to research for this psych paper I'm supposed to be doing. Of course we didn't go right away.

Oh no.

We had to eat 1/2 a pint of Oatmeal Cookie Crunch, some Reese's peanut butter cups, and the like. Mmmm.

After which we headed to the library, where we did NO research whatsoever but I did manage to take out some random books, including the actual version of...Ten Little Indians! Yee haw. And then I committed forgery by having to pretend to be my mother; as I was using her library card and lo and behold, there were overdue books on. Of course I had to forge her signature and sign for them. Why would I be able to hand over the card, no questions asked, like a normal person?

Because I'm not a normal person and entertaining things happen to me. I'm used to it. 

Nothing comes from nothing.

This week has been, by far, one of the most difficult of my life. I'm grateful for many things, not the least of which being that this week at school has come to a close; Monday feels like a thousand years ago. Maybe it was.

I know one thing is for certain; I have the best friends in the world. Between the ones that I've grown up with, to those from elementary school, to those who I've known for just a short time (but feel like I've never NOT known)...I am a lucky girl. And one thing I'm grateful for is that through all of this I have been fortunate enough to have these wonderful people. I don't know what I did to deserve this; but to quote the Sound of Music: 

"I must have done something good."

This afternoon was spent constructing crowns out of wire star garlands, silk roses, and ribbon. It was very fun, not to mention theraputic. So now the drama club has 20 crowns to sell at $3.00 each. Not bad at all.

Okay, I Love the 90's is back in full swing starting next Wednesday after school. I need to throw myself into activities and fill my afternoons with interviewing, rehersals, and maybe even a little homework here and there.

Does anyone recall the African bee invasion of 1990?

Lessons.

I've learned that you can't ever say hello enough times.

I've learned that there's no such thing as too many "I love you"'s.

I've learned that family and friends are the most important thing in the world.

I've learned that life's too short and too unpredictable to be mean to people.

I've learned that you can never be too nice, because it really does matter to people.

I've learned that listening is the best possible thing.

I've learned that there's no time in life to be judgemental.

I've learned that life really is a gift that shouldn't be wasted.

I have learned all this and more in the past 48 hours. 

Everyone that you meet in your life you meet for a reason. I genuinely appreciate and adore my family and my friends.

I wish I'd said hello.

Back to school.

Surprisingly, today went by relatively fast. I think the whole return to the regularly schedueled day makes a huge difference. It was also a little freaky, because I keep reminding myself that before I know it, this will all be over, and it'll all just disappear in to a bunch of fast paced days. Weird.

Labor day weekend was fun, Monday morning Samm and I woke up, after not reading, and did our morning exercises: 25 fluffs of the featherbed and 25 more of the duvet. Quite the cardiovascular activity, I assure you. After all those calories had been worked off, Kerri, Natale, Samm and I went to Bickfids for some pancakes and homefries, it was great, let me tell you even greater when you're supposed to be reading Barnaby Rudge but instead are sitting in a cheesy restaurant enviornment with a waitress named Yzma and some onions upon request.

Today was successful as well, I succeeded in getting gym waivered and my next goal is to get my Independent Study approved so that I can start working on I Love the 90's. Also, NORDEX WAS DOWN today at school, which, by the way, is not the life saving, all important "savior of death" that the administration makes it sound like when they announce it's fall over the intercom, but rather is simply the attendance and schedule making program on the computers. Anyway, because of this issue, we did NOT have our much anticipated summer reading quiz, which was great.

Tomato soup and Premiums are awesome. Any time of the day. 

Great.

If it tastes like butter, but it's not...it's Chiffon!

What a crazy couple of HOT days. Bring em on though, in about a month we'll all be cool in our heels and wishing for 96 degree weather with 68% humidity.

So yesterday, Natale, Lizzy, Sammo, and myself all congregated with two purposes for the day: To get some sun and swim, and to find and purchase 90's memorabilia, the top of this list being REEBOK PUMP UP SHOES, you all know what I mean, the sneakers with the little button on the tongue that you press, which obviously causes the wearer to run faster, and jump higher, all due to compressed air being filtered into the sneaker. You might say that finding something like this is impossible. How naive you are.

Of course we found exactly what we were looking for at the Salvation Army, complete with a neon yellow and blue color scheme. We were lucky we got there when we did, seeing as it was welfare check and foodstamp Thursday. If we had arrived minutes after we did, those sneakers would never have graced us with their existance.

We also found something free lying on the side of the road, begging to be hauled into Natale's Dodge Neon and taken to some deserving recipient. Who knew the distinct scent of garbage could linger in hard plastic? Bwahaa.

School's in a couple days...it doesn't seem real to me, it feels like we've got four weeks left to kill. But we don't. I'm just sad to see summer end, I think, because being a senior is going to kick some serious booty. Yee haw.

Thousands of Pet Rocks have been euthanized.

Oh. Man.

This evening was spent in the Leominster High School cafeteria recruiting young hopefuls to the oh-so-wonderful DRAMA CLUB! Despite the oven-like conditions we endured, the evening was amusing and relatively sucessful. The freshmen as a whole are definately shrinking. I'm convinced that its a generational flaw, like peanut allergies in today's 6 year olds. I don't remember knowing ANYONE that was allergic to peanuts as a kid, and I certainly remember the seniors when I was a freshman being a whole lot bigger. Maybe in this case it's the lack of peanut butter crackers the freshmen are missing out on as children because of their allergies that's causing the demise of their physical stature. Food for thought.

I Love the 70's is a true inspiration. The upcoming Danielle Randall Out of the Blue Extravaganza, I Love tbe 90's is in the making. Samm and I are researching, and if any of you would like to be interviewed on such things as Tamogotchis, Beanie Babies, or Hanson, please let me know, It's going to be good.

Also, if you or someone you know knows if there are sparknotes for Barnaby Rudge, I would love to obtain them somehow. Especially since school starts in a week and I still have, oh, 300 pages of White Jacket left to read. Stunning.

Of course I read Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix again, instead of White Jacket or Barnaby Rudge for that matter. I have my priorities.

Every Dawson has a Joey.

I'm just going to lay it out there. Dawson's Creek was and will always be a wonderful, wonderful show. It really makes me look at my life and think...where did I go wrong? Aren't I supposed to be sailing off into oblivion with my adorable boyfriend right about now? Because that's what Joey and Pacey did the summer before THEIR senior year. Oh well. I'm clausterphobic anyway.

So last night it was decided that Kristin, Tito, Natty, and Samm would congregate chez moi tres early so that they could complet their AP French Assignment, which would in turn motivate me to work on reading for APs Psych and Lit. 

Samm slept over last night, and of course we set the alarm for exactly 7:00 AM, the time everyone was expected (when I say early, I mean EARLY. See what I'm saying about the longest day of the summer?). So we wake up to the blasting overture of Brigadoon at this wee hour, and really, after starting the day with extremely loud, honking bagpipes, there is nowhere to go but up. And up we went. Ten hours later, all was completed and Natty, Samm and I ended the day with a few rounds of Call the Consumer Hotlines, which is always a treat.

Speaking of treats, do you know how wonderful it is to fluff out a feather bed before you sleep on it? It takes a lot of effort to do this, because obviously the term "light as a feather" does not apply to down mattress covers, but the results are phenomonal.

Last night we also watched Miss Teen USA, just to keep up with the insults. Quick verbal retalliation takes practice, and God knows if you need people to make fun of, Miss Teen USA is the thing to watch. My brother brought up an excellent point. When AC Slater stated that the contestants were not judged on their evening gown, but on their presentation, Ian determined that if this is the case, then any one of them could have worn a lobster costume and it wouldn't have made a difference. And it wouldn't have. The audience would have been too distracted by Miss Michigan's HUGE nostril (yes, only one, as they appeared to be fused together) to even notice a giant crustacean scampering about.

Drought.

I hate it when it's hot AND rainy. If it's going to be hot, give me some sun. Otherwise, just let the rain do it's thing and cool off the world.

I read in the newspaper today, and saw on the news last night that those animal activists are after Prince William for killing an antelope while on safari in Africa. First of all, if I were an antelope in Africa I would mount MYSELF over Prince William's fireplace. Honestly, eventually that antelope would have just been brutally ripped to shreds by some predator anyway, so what difference does it make? I really think that the PEDA people's ulterior motive is to rid the world of all animals, because the more they protest the more inclined everyone else is to buy the fur coats and shoot the antelopes just to spite them. Either they're really dumb or using some genius form of reverse psycology.

I have a typing handicap.

I just cut my finger on a RAZOR SHARP crabshell, and it is now bleeding profusely despite the band-aid I applied. Good thing it's not requiring of stitches because a) the idea of my skin being resewn together kind of makes me wheezy and b) I would hate to go into the ER and have to explain to about 30 people that the reason for my stitches was a stupid dead crab appendage.

I leave you all with this question, and I want honest answers:

Has anyone ever actually played Mousetrap, and by "play" I mean NOT just set up the mousetrap and make it trap mice? I'm interested, because as far as I know, nobody, including myself, has any clue how the game is "really" played. I don't know, setting up the trap was always game enough for me.

Take note.

For those of you who are unaware of the new channel arrangement, let me just assure you that you will still be able to catch your favorite television show, LHS Out of the Blue, on CHANNEL 9. That's right people, we are now basically TNT. We're moving on up, now our wonderful station will appear earlier in the channel surfing rotation. I really am very excited about this.

Raisin bran muffins are absolutely wonderful.

So are boiled hot dogs.

School's already exasperating.

I came back from today's Adventure In Babysitting to find *gasp* my school schedule lying on my counter. My brother told me that Samm had dropped it off, she was kind enough to pick it up for me while she was at LHS this morning! So I was excited to get this, and see if I got gym waivered and whatnot. Well, I read it and became so exasperated, the school was kind enough to give me classes that I have no desire to take!

Phys Ed., Senior: Mr. Vaillette---Okay, first of all I'm supposed to have gym waivered. Second of all, Mr. Vaillette is a creepy creepy man. There is no way I will stand for this.

Computer Apps 1: Mrs. Raymond---Why oh why don't all of my hours in a TV studio working on imovie count as applying myself to computers??

(Here's the real treat) Psychology: Mrs. Maynard---I expressed absolutely no interest in this class whatsoever. Why would I want to take both regular and AP Psych?? Especially since this full year course block is SUPPOSED to be reserved for Advanced TV Out of the Blue full year, so that I can take Morning Announcements full year. Oh the INCOMPETENCE!!

The rest of my classes, Advanced Math, Physics, AP Psych, AP Lit. amd Advanced TVs Out of the Blue and Announcements were all requested. However, my schedule is topped off with A STUDY. Why would I want to take a study when I need an english elective, i.e. SPEECH to graduate? What good will a study do for me?!

I'm making a godforsaken guidance appointment as soon as I wake up on August 11th, because something needs to be done about this. And if I don't get gym waivered, AP Bio here I come, I will not be subjected to useless sports playing under any circumstance.

Anyway. Last night Lizzy came back, we got some much needed ice cream and settled down to watch the Real World, which unfortunately was replaced with an Osbournes marathon. It's okay though, because thanks to this marathon we decided on our fallback career.

Are you all familiar with Tony, Ozzy's "chauffeur"? I put that in quotes because Tony does a lot more eating of the Osbourne's food and spending of the Osbourne's money than he does actual chauffering. We decided he is a celebrity leech, and if we can't achieve stardom ourselves, the next best thing is to mooch off of someone else's fame. All Tony has to do to keep his job is act as an interprateur for Ozzy, because the average American ear can barely understand a strong English accent, never mind one slurred with years of drug abuse, drive Ozzy around, and laugh at Ozzy's jokes, because nobody else does, because Tony's the only one who understands them.

Hopefully I'll be a news anchor on NBC so that I can hire my own leech. 

For those of you who watched Road Rules on Monday, you probably know what I'm about to say. Not only did Donell stay, but they replaced Cara with his female counterpart for Lord's sake. They might as well rename the show Road Rules: The Ghetto, because that's what it's turnd into. Argh.

Goals as of Now:

-Set my schedule straight for Ford's sake.
-Be on the Real World.
-Hire/Become a celebrity leech.
-Finish reading White Jacket so I can start not reading Barnaby Rudge.

Wanna have some fun?!

Wow, it really is amazing what sorts of things happen when you pass in two essays that have been weighing you down for about 2 months. Glad that's over with, good thing I don't plan on reading any more for school.

So on the way back from good old LHS today, my mom decides to stop in at Michaels, so Samm and I make our way into Petco to pay a visit to Jasmine, in hopes that she'll be able to show us the four baby birds she's been nurturing for God knows how long birds need to be nurtured. So we arrive at Petco with this dream in our hearts, and find Jazz performing exorcisms on a bunch of hampsters. We ask to see the infamous parrots, but she replies that she is busy with the de-satanizing of these rodents, and she then sent us to the Bird Enclosure where her young were residing.

So Kathie the Petco employee is showing us these birds. They were pretty, but birds can be a little freaky as their faces are blank and expressionless and you have absolutely no idea what's going on in that bird brain of theirs. So Samm and I are politely petting this bird and dutifully listening to Kathie the Petco employee, when we see a butterfly net swish by at top speeds over the numerous shelves. The holder of this net was Jasmine, who had been trying all day to recapture a lovebird that had flown the coop. She was armed with what appeared to be a Super Soaker XP360 2000, or the Mother of all Squirt Guns, to discombobulate the bird and force it to fall into her awaiting net. She then asks us:

"Wanna have some fun?!"

So Samm and I, being ourselves and never turning down an adventure, begin our quest for the Lost Lovebird. The quest takes us all around Petco, and the bird, apparantly trying to break free and return to the Homeland, flies at top speed towards the exit. So Jazz, armed with her weapons scampers after the bird, followed by Samm, me, and the High and Mighty Petco Manager, who locks the automatic doors, denying access to 8 ansy Petco shoppers outside, so that the bird will not complete his mission to return to East Africa. So we find ourselves enclosed in the box that is the Petco entrance, Samm and I huddled in the corner, enjoying the amused reactions of the spectators outside, quite the collection of citizens, including my mother, a grandmother with her little grandchild, a priest, and a family of Puerto Ricans, all pointing in awe at Jasmine and the Manager's courageous attempts at capture. It was like Disney World. 

So after an opening like that, how could the day go wrong? It couldn't. Samm and I made a perfect chocolate cake, at a whole lot, and enjoyed the day.

In other news, I saw an interesting headline in today's local paper, the gist of which read that more Leominster citizens are choosing to take advantage on our public school system as opposed to sending their kids to Catholic school. The article said that the reason for this is the downfall of the economy and the fact that people "simply can't afford private schooling".

That is complete BS. The reason why nobody's sending their kids to schnid Catholic schools is because they're finally realizing that those schools are crap, taught by ageless miserable teachers, and that the Leominster public school system is actually really good. I've experienced both schools, and let me tell you, Catholic school is not a pretty picture. In the year and a half I spent in Catholic high school, all I learned is that knee socks come in a plethora of colors and polyester uniform sweaters do nothing but suck cold air in.

Did you know that sometimes the snakes at Petco get loose, and when they do they always end up in the KB Toys next door? Call it fate, but I know those bastards are only out to scare the hell out of innocent people.

I hope Donell gets voted off Road Rules tonight. I will be a happy girl.

There once was a man from Nantucket.

I begin my tale with this statement:

Hummers are the biggest waste of personally owned vehicle in the world.

I don't know how many of you know that I feel this way about these monstrosities. But I do. I have said on many occasions, if you want to drive a Hummer that badly, join the Army and defend the country while you're at it. After all, that's what Hummers are meant for. Unless you're planning on doing some serious off-roading, (i.e. in the Army), there is no need. 

With that said, let me talk about Nantucket. I love Nantucket. It really doesn't feel like you're even in America anymore, let alone Massachusetts. QUAINT is the only word I can find that describes it. How else can you describe cobblestone roads, white picket fences, hydrangeas, and a complete lack of pavement, commercial businesses, and traffic lights? Everything is basically within walking distance. The island itself also only about 14 miles long and those cobblestone streets are NARROW. Narrow being about 15 feet wide, no exaggeration. Unless you live there or have a summer house there, you really don't NEED to bring a car. Now, wouldn't you think that if a car was completely necessary for visiting vacationers you'd bring a Mini Coupe or Volkswagen Beetle or mabye even a BMW z3 to easily manuever yourself around these narrow, narrow roadways?

I think so.

BUT no, upon setting foot on this island what was the first vehichle that drove by? AN ORANGE HUMMER. This to me defines Road Hog. I know that there are lots of very very rich people that live on Nantucket, but obviously they are very very stupid to think that they come off as super cool driving a monstrous vehicle that literally takes up what would be both lanes should the roads HAVE separate lanes. I took a picture of this so that I would have proof. I hope it comes out.

Other than my negative encounter with the gas guzzeling beast, I had a wonderful two days. We went with my Canadian grandparents and my very very Canadian great-aunts. It was a party. I'm not even going to bother trying to describe the racous that I experienced. I don't think Nantucket was big enough for two Canadian senior citiziens AND my grandmother. They're probably still recovering over there. Next time we go though, I need to bring somebody. All the cool kids were having fun, someone needs to come with me so that we can play with them.

One cool thing that happened: my parents were looking to buy a painting for their 25th Anniversary present to themselves. So we went into this gallery (the artists all run their own galleries, so I met a bunch of artists) and the guy who's paintings were for sale and from whom my parents ended up buying from actually sold a painting to Princess Diana. He met her. I thought that was pretty cool. Maybe I'll get to see the original once Harry and I get married. Hah. 

Can I also just confirm that ice cream and frozen yogurt should not ever be sold in the same establishment. They couldn't be more different. I'm remaining loyal to ice cream from now on. Trust me on this one.

I need to finish my last essay for AP Psych today. I guess it's good that it's raining then. Blaah.

Road Rules Casting Directors have the best senses of humor.

I came to this conclusion during last night's Road Rules. They have to be the most crafty people on the planet to pick a 300 pound man to be on a show involving physical activity and hanging from various thin bungee cords and ropes. I can only imagine what was going through their heads while wacthing Donell's application video. They're a bunch of crazy sick geniuses to have picked him. That was risky, I bet it was to prove that MTV still hasn't lost its edge. Kudos to them.

I want to be a Casting Director. Almsot as much as I want to be on the Real World.

I also want to find that godforsaken eiffel tower tank top. Yes, I'm still looking for it. Where oh where could it possibly be?! I'll probably find it in January.

Today's my half birthday. I should eat some cake.

Have a good night everyone, and try to remember not to run with scissors.

Revelation.

So I arrived home from lovely New Hope, Pennsylvania today. It actually was really really nice, which was actually somewhat of a letdown as I was expecting to experience Lizzy-vania, also known as Altoona, where she gets the mesh hats and has the gopher shooting relatives. No such luck with New Hope. It was a lot like the Cape, incredibly nice little stores, beautiful houses, retirement communities, and a plethora of groundhogs roaming the pridelands. Needless to say, I did not find a mesh hat. I'm going to work on that.

So the whole point of this trek down south was to go to one of my dad's TWO cousins' wedding. He has a very small side of the family, unlike my mom, who could populate a small country with Canadian cousins. Anyway, the wedding was really beautiful. For the most part. The bride was pretty, she had a tiara. I like tiaras a lot. Here's what I didn't like:

-The bridesmaids dresses. The color was nice, and so was the style, however the entire thing was ruined with a pink and blue plaid fabric on the top of the dress. Come on now. Patterns? I guess she picked them out on a stressful day, or else she just wanted to make sure they didn't look as good as she did. If that's the case, then she's a genius and more power to her.

The minister also thought he was being all original with his little speech thing, and began saying, as if he made it up himself: "Love is patient, and kind...It is never boastful" and yadda yadda yadda. Well, guess what. He ripped that little speech straight from A Walk To Remember and was trying to pass it off as his own minister genius. Not gonna fly. I picked up on it, and it appears there is a Mandy Moore fan at the New Hope Presbyterian church. I'll keep his little secret for now.

My dad's cousin, the one who got married, is a producer for the sports report of the Philadelphia local news. SO in his wedding party, come to find out, was THE Philadelphia version of Boston's WB 56 Ten O'Clock news anchor. I was very starstruck, and actually met and spoke to this guy who has the job that I want. He was very nice, and hopefully I made myself my first very own connection. Oooh, Aaah.

A revelation came to me a few moments ago, and those of you who took AP English Language and Composition this year with Mrs. Moriarty will find this highly amusing. Kerri tells me, that according to the latest Atlantic Monthly (which she got for one reason or another, who knows, I didn't ask), William Faulkner wrote the wonderful novel As I Lay Dying, as you very well know. What you DON'T know is that the completed manuscript was accidentally thrown into the fire and reduced to ashes. So, good old Faulkner gets himself nice and drunk one night, and writes THE ENTIRE BOOK OVER AGAIN. You who have read this are now going ahhhh I GET IT! There was no deeper meaning, no hidden interpretation with symbolism and the dead mother with the fish and the vultures. Oh no. The book was a product of a man's drunken rewrite of what could very well have been a book that made sense. Discuss this amongst yourselves.

So tomorrow I have to research for my AP Psych summer project with Samm. The Brave New World is a weirdass book. It reminded me of Barbie, Get Real with all the perfection and the pill popping. If you saw that play and read this book, you know what I'm talking about. 

I really really want an ice cream maker. A lot. It would multiply the food capacity by ten, at least. The possiblities are endless.

I learned a new phrase this week. 
"Yo Boy":(n.) Referring to caucasian people who take on African American inner city tendancies. (ex. Eminem) antonym: Prince Harry

Thank you and good night.

Edeilweiss.

Have I ever mentioned how much I absolutely adore The Sound of Music? Well, I do. There is not one life lesson that cannot be learned by watching this movie. If anyone cares to challenge this, please, by all means comment and I will do my best to prove you wrong ; )

Today was a magical day, spent with magical people. Lizzy and Samm came over in the afternoon, where we of course, ate. For those of you who think that toaster pizzas can only be made using english muffins, think again. Bagels provide the consumer with a much more filling and delicious meal. We washed down the bagel pizzas with a few Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans (Harry Potter candy, in case you're wondering. Yes, we are wizards. It's impolite to stare). 

Before the good however came the bad. This morning I was awoken with the shrieks of my little sister, her cat was on the roof. Yes, the roof. Apparantly one of our upstairs windows was left open all night so that the raccoons, moths, squirrels, and burglars would have a warm place to sleep for the night. Anyhow, the cat used this exit and was prowling around on the roof. So, with the best interest of the roof and myself in mind, I suggested that she, being 10 years old and about as gangly as Bambi himself, climb out the window and fetch the cat. That was done. Then, as Samm was leaving this afternoon, the dog got outside in the front yard, which he is not allowed to do, as he will head for the hills at top speeds and most likely be run over by the train that runs not so far from my house. So, it took 4 individuals, a Farmer (Liz), a Petco Employee (Jasmine, Samm's sister), Samm, and myself to tackle the animal, who, by the way, is only 7 months old, and hook on a godforsaken leash, all while the dog is squirming, wriggling, growling, and practically foaming at the mouth. I swear, these beasts know I don't like them very much, so they wait until my mom's ONE workday of the week to insue chaos. How thoughtful.

I babysat my cousins tonight. I'm sitting the playroom, playing House, when I hear my six year old first grader of a cousin singing a familiar tune. I listen, and I hear:

"Don't step on the crack, or we'll send you to Iraq."

Not the whole breaking your mother's back bit of my childhood, mind you. I love politically aware children. I also love thoughtful children, as the two year old, when his dad came back, was quick to offer first a sip of orange juice, and then a beer. Well, we start 'em young in my family of French Canadian liquor consumers. I absolutely love it.

I also drove today, for the first time since like, April. I have to admit that possibly my worst fear in the world is car accidents, right along with snakes, swimming in the ocean, and being a failure at life. But I took a giant step today by driving to the end of my street, BY MYSELF, to pick up Kerri. Yes, I am putting my license and my ability to legally drive others to GOOD GOOD USE! 

That's all for tonight, hopefully tomorrow will present itself with an issue worth venting over, but you all get to take a break from my opinionated entries tonight and look foward to tomorrow! 

So Long, Farewell, Auf Weidersen, Good Bye.

Massholes.

While catching my weekly dose of Road Rules: South Pacific on MTV tonight, and having been watching The Real World: Paris rather religiously, it occured to me that there is a Massachusetts citizen on each of these shows. Now, you would think that I, being a native Massachusetts girl, or, as a charming Californian whom I met in Paris stated, I am a "****ing Yankee". 

(sidenote: Californian boy, if you are reading this, can I please remind you that your state was not even a part of the Union at that time, and if it was, I'm fairly certain that it was in fact a Union state. Rightous.) 

Anyway, as I was saying, I am a proud upstanding citizen of this fine state, and there are many other fine upstanding citizens who reside here with me. However, all you non- Massachusetts-ians are, I must say, horribly misinformed as to what we "Yankees" are like.

Example number one: Donell from Road Rules: South Pacific. Many of you probably watch the show and know him, but for those of you who don't, he is an extremely obese, exrremely dumb person who is an arrogent backstabber/ fight picker. He has been known to say things like "I don't got no ..." and "Ain't nothing...". He also obviously plucks/waxes his eyebrows, and I'm not talking a simple unibrow elimination, but a serious wax job so that he closely resembles Whoopi Goldberg, but not as extreme.

Example number two: Chris from the Real World: Paris. Here is a boy with what many would call a "typical" Massachusetts accent. (i.e. Pahk the cah in the Hahvahd Yahd.) By placing this man on national television MTV is encouraging the stereotype that all Bostonians speak with this horrendous accent. This is not true. Sure, there are a few who do, Matt Damon and Ben Affleck in Good Will Hunting for example, are from Cambridge and have this accent. However Diane Lane in the Perfect Storm is a prime example of a conscious effort to imitate said accent, and unfortunately she sounds even stupider than Chris from The Real World. The accent, however, is a mere detail, but Chris is another uneducated, selfish, jerk of a person that is represnting an entire state.

Example number three: The entire Kennedy family, with the exception of Jaqueline Kennedy Onassis. They are in a league of their own, trust me, not all Massachusetts citizens are able to use their money and power to cover up rape, murder, scandal, and the occasional affair or two. They define Masshole in every way and encompass everything bad in both Chris and Donell, everything from the backstabbing jerk to the obnoxious accent.

The bottom line here goes out to any of you who read this and take to heart the poor examples of Massachusetts people set by Donell, Chris, and the Kennedys. I personally am a moral person, a relatively intelligent person, and I have a full grasp on how to pronounce my "R"s. 

And I am a Red Sox fan.