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.