May 17, 2004

• I kind of want something to happen right now.  Not just anything, though.  Something.  There's a difference.  Anything can range from my sister randomly having a seizure to some Afgan suicide bomber suddenly throwing himself at me.  Something is more specific, i guess.  Actually, maybe it's not.  It just seems like it would be.

  
  

  Anyway, the only things that have really happened to me over the past two days were just painful.  Not seeing some wrinkly sixty-year-old man in a speedo kind of painful.  No, i mean the physical kind.  Yesterday, all i wanted was a tan. That's all, just a little coloring.  Is that too much to ask?  Well, i guess someone has something against us gothically pale individuals. I woke up this morning so red you would think my bed was a lifesize toaster.  I don't know, maybe it is.  And all throughout the day I was half expecting Nickelodeon to call me up and ask if i could go on tour with them as Mr. Crabs.  Every time the phone rings, i jump. 

  
  

  So that's pain scenario number one.  Right now is the result of number two.  Right now it's track.  Why am i not there, you may ponder.  Why?  Because i have damn shin splints. These bursts of pain in the front bottom parts of my legs.  Literally, if someone even pokes at my leg in the wrong spot, i go through this foot tapping seizure and then the teacher starts yelling at me.  My teachers.  God, do they think i have issues.  Mrs. Fried, my math teacher, thinks i have some obsessive compulsive disorder when it comes to fingers.  "Take off your gloves," I'd say hungrily one day, "I want to feel your fingers.  I WANT TO SEE THEM NAKED!!" And then she'd never paint her nails again. 

  
  

  Then there's Senora Moreno, my study hall teacher.  Not that she actually teaches anything at study hall, but whatever.  She thinks I have a magical bladder.  A disturbed bladder.  Every morning at exactly 8:42 i puedo ir al bano her.  Sometimes, i don't even have to ask.  She just says 'si' before my mouth opens.  So then, i stay in the bathroom for about ten mintues talking to whoever's there.  I never actually go.  That is, unless someone i'm scared of walks in.  Then i scramble into a stall and pretend to be doing my business.  Senora Moreno never personally asked me what the hell was up with me, my bladder, and 8:42 am, but she's asked everyone else.  A few months ago, after my usual b-room visit, i walked back into class and everyone bursted out laughing.  I laughed along thinking that they were laughing about something else.  No.  They were laughing at me.  And my bladder.  'CLOCK BLADDER' One girl with green braces shouted.  'there's asparagus permanentaly stuck to your teeth." I wanted to say.  But i didn't. 

  
  

  My other teachers aren't much better.  Mrs. Samuels thinks I'm mute.  Mr. Dionno thinks i hate him (Me? Hate HIM?!).  Mrs. Kloos thinks i have serious family problems at home.  Mr. Oppel thinks i relate too many crucial issues in life to shows on the cartoon network. Mr. Purcell thinks i have a potty mouth (he caught me once). 

  
  

  Other than that, i'm pretty much normal.

  • 9:09 pm
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