Currin must die. She never called us. Fiend! ::immerses herself in Lennon/McCartney goodness despite fiendish plots against her::
Tomorrow and Friday evening, I will be in the same city as Paul McCartney. I hate my life. ::growls:: There was an article about him in the newspaper today, and now I want to go more than ever. Friday’s concert still has tickets available. Currin said that she’d call us on her cell phone and let the “12th Night” cast listen while we’re offstage. ::seethes envy:: Oh Paul, why must you have such an awful sense of timing?
Various people have posted samples of their handwriting. Here’s a page from today’s history notes so that you can see mine. It doesn’t get any better than that. Muah!
Happy Octo de Mayo! It’s a bit of an inside joke amongst some of my friends from lower school, but I still find it amusing. The Spanish class wanted to celebrate Cinco de Mayo, but it was happening on a weekend, so they celebrated it on the 8th. Instead of saying Cinco de Mayo, we all called it Octo de Mayo and declared a new holiday. So hurrah! Burst a pinata! Wear a stylish hat! And celebrate!
Hurrah! Today is our last “12th Night” rehearsal! We’re all gonna die! Hurrah! ::waves flag:: ::flees::
::joins the SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEage::
Dear God, what provoked me to be in this Percyforsaken production? I just now got home from rehearsal. 10:50 PM. Now I get to read half the Great Gatsby (I read the other half during rehearsal) and do almost the entirety of a gargantuan English project. And I’m hungry. Doom.
Grrrrr. This morning, I feel vehement dislike for everything that does not represent being asleep in my bed, under mountains of covers. This includes you. Bah. Evil school. ::stomps about in annoyance::
Does my new layout really look like Europe? Growl. Them cows ain’t appreciated no more. Durn cityfolk.
Alright, ladies and gents. Now tell me how shibby my New Blog Layout is.