I had a bad day. Wouldn’t you love to hear about it in excruciating detail? Of course you would!

1st period: Actually a pretty good start. I convinced Mrs. Calhoun into letting us listen to my Sgt. Pepper CD for part of the class. Funfun!

Break: Another nifty bit. We watched part of “Endless Waltz”! Duo’s dubbed voice is scary. And Trowa is too ripped for a 14 year old. And all people named Chang have a legal requirement to be irritating. ::drools a bit over skinny long-haired anime guys, namely Duo::

2nd period: Math. Dullsville. When class was finally over, I just had to get out of that room. I ended up doing my homework in the hall afterward, even though Mrs. Murphree keeps yelling at me to stay in class and work with her afterwards. I just can’t stay in that class one more minute after eighty spent in there!

Conference Period: Math homework in the hall, then routine checking of WOFS.

Lunch: Nasty food. I get a sandwich.

3rd period: I completely forgot a French poem I had perfectly memorized last night. AAARRRRGGGHHHH!

4th period: Group computer projects. I finished early, but Dr. Fishel refused to let us play Minesweeper or Solitaire. Fwah.

After class: I waited for Taylor to pick me up until 4. She usually picks me up at 3:45 to take me to rehearsal for “How to Succeed”, but she wasn’t there. I called my mom, but she was driving carpool and couldn’t get to school for 20 minutes, so I decided to avoid Miss Felice’s wrath and just walk. I forgot how far away the schools were. It’s about a mile to a mile and a half. In the blazing hot sun and incredibly humid air. In pants. And with my hair down. And with a 30-pound backpack. And during my period with the Cramps Of Doom. On a slight incline. With heavy traffic. I finally got there at about 4:30. Mr. Oliver looked ready to chew me out, but I managed to avoid it. Ricky was shocked out of his mind when I told him. Everyone was. Then Haley (the other Smitty. my double) told me she couldn’t be Smitty today because she had a lacrosse game, so I immediately had to get onstage and act and sing. I was so exhausted, I felt like I would faint. Then we only got out around 7! 2 1/2 hours…. ::falls asleep at keyboard::

Aw, I feel all special now! I’m Chelsea‘s blog of the moment! ::squeals:: You rock, Chelsea!

Chad told me today that A Little Slice of Insanity had reached 9k. My God. Are people actually still visiting that wretched piece of dung-strewn filth mockingly referred to as a website? I haven’t updated since October 30th!

Ooh, Draco is coming out nicely. He is cuter than toast, and twice, if not thrice, as crunchy. Check out my progress. (head shot) I love those robes. I have to lighten them a bit so that you can see the detail. And I have to spread out the letter spacing in “Crabbe and Goyle”. And I have to colour Crabbe and Goyle as well. I think I’m going to shade them in green grayscale. That would rock. Or I can do them in color, then compare it with a green version. Hmm… for a cold-blooded piece of toast, Draco is rather attractive.

I’m writing this from an evil mac at a fine arts festival for private schools in the southwest. ISAS. Groovyness. Yesterday, I got to meet Liz, another of the RMLers. She’s so nifty! I got to see the one-act play she directed/wrote/produced, and let me say that it was FABULOUS. The girl has talent. Also, lots of people liked my photography, so I feel special. When I post v.1 of tnm.n, I’ll post lots of my photography. Fun stuff. Full details when I get home.

I’m leaving you all again. You’ll have to wait for the rest of my wit and wisdom for when I return again on Saturday. Meanwhile, tell me what you think of my godawful CG job of the second bookmark. As I said on Kell’s boards, it’s a classic example of “lovely sketch, wretched CG job”. Fwah, I wish it had come out better. ::pouts::

Now isn’t this nice? Tanja and I have founded a flat-chested, long-haired, ex-Death Eater club. Now all busty girls are our groupies. I’m working on our theme song at the moment. I might make a website in its honor. Nifty stuff.

Also, thanks to everyone that emailed me/commented/posted on the BBS. ::hugs for everyone:: It really means a lot.

Something was wrong. I could feel it. I think the whole class could feel it. The room had been completely silent for bordering on five minutes, ever since the announcement over the loudspeaker told us to go to advisory when class let out.
“Oh, God”, Madame Hanlon said, sitting down at her computer.
“What?” we all asked.
“Do you remember Mrs. Brennan?”
Maria Renna crossed herself.
By this point, I could feel the tension in the air. Now I know what it’s like when authors describe tension that’s so thick it could be cut with a knife. That’s when the silence started. Madame Hanlon signalled for us to pack up and wait for the bell. She wouldn’t tell us what had happened. The silence was finally broken by the electronic buzzing of the bell ten minutes later, then the sound of two girls murmuring “Au revoir, Madame” as the students dumbly filed out of the classroom.

When I reached Mr. Lohstreter’s room, he confirmed my fears. Mrs. Brennan, my honors Biology teacher, the victim of a stroke and a cancerous brain tumor, had died that morning. I looked around the room at my friends to guage their reactions. Why was I the only one who seemed ready to cry? We knew she wasn’t going to recover. The doctors assured us of that. We knew she was slowly deteriorating. We didn’t even know if she knew that she had visitors. My mom and I had bought her sympathy cards two weeks previous, with the intention of getting the class to sign them and sending them to her husband, who would in turn read them to her. They were supposed to go once a week, for six weeks. Only one card had gone out.

When I arrived in class, there were only two others. Dr. Fishel, head of the science department and our substitute teacher, noticed my expression and asked if I was going to be OK. I said I was fine. She asked me if I wanted the cards back. That’s when the tears came. It wasn’t a flood or a deluge. It was just a trickle, easily controlled by a series off strategically used blinks, but they were still tears. Mrs. Brennan was the first person close to me to die, and I had no idea how to deal the situation. I sat in class, silently writing down how I felt in the French notebook I forgot to put back in my locker, ignoring my friend Mariam’s annoyance at her inability to find the answers to the homework in the Jesus Lizard textbook. The class slowly filled in, one by one, nearly everyone silent. Dr. Fishel knew that we weren’t going to have class that period. Ours was the only honors biology class Mrs. Brennan had taught. After about thirty minutes of akward discussion on the subject of twins, she dismissed us. I have no idea how I’m going to concentrate during play practice today. I can barely even think straight now. If you’re still reading this, thank you.