I hate going to bed. I mean, I like most things about it, but there's this one part that kills me.

I love reading in bed before I go to sleep.
I love writing in bed before I go to sleep.
I love seas of blankets.
I love fluffy pillows.
I love dreaming while I am asleep.

I hate what comes after sleep. The reason why I'm forced to go to sleep at a certain time. I've got to go to sleep, not for pleasure, but so that I may be well-rested for school in the morning. That's why weekends and vacations are so wonderful, you sleep because you want to, not for academic reasons.

I'd much rather write a novel, read a novel and dream of a novel than wake up and do novel things that lead to nothing.

Why can't time just fast forward? I want my education taught to me, in my sleep, like in Brave New World. Just until college, then I can apply it, and I can be an adult. But then I might have to sleep for work, so I'd have to get some sort of freelance job (Like, *ahem* a writer) so that I could make my own hours. Then I could enjoy the world and sleep all at once.

Curses, you, school. To defy you, I shall post a survey instead of sleeping.

( Take that, irritable institutes! )

Goodness, this week did look grim.

Then Friday came around, and boy, oh boy, things sure turned upside down!

I was actually a little bit excited towards the end of yesterday, as I had bought a matinee ticket to see our school's production of Neil Simon's Rumors, which would get me out of AP US, Physics and Journalism.

Fast forward to today, I was just as excited. Got up at 6 instead of 6:30, passed out the newest issue of the Blazer this morning (although, funny story, I was standing with a stack of them near the bus entrance of the school, and that ex-jerk of mine, Tom, comes by with a stack of papers to pass out, looks at me, and then just stands closer to the door. HE STOLE MY SPOT. WHAT A JERK.).

The day was basically:
First period... Team test. Jacob and I doodle and actually manage to get math done. I actually have some of these doodles...
Second period... We're actually studying art in French now, which is probably the coolest thing we've ever done in French III thus far. It's all pandering to me, I mean, just two weeks ago we made comics, now I've got an opportunity to do a report on Rene Magritte!
Third period... We just corrected our AP multiple choice questions for Fahrenheit 451, I got a pretty high score for my class period. Hate on me ensues. I didn't set the curve, however, I'm not amazing.

Then came fourth period, and according to my matinee ticket, I didn't have to go. Turns out the play wouldn't start until around fifth period, but I was feeling relatively sane, and Weston's Weston, so I took first lunch and just read Rant by Chuck Palahniuk.

The play comes around and Parry and I meet, because we decided earlier that we'd sit together. I fall asleep at certain parts (just because you get to bed early, doesn't mean that you get to sleep early), but thankfully, not enough to miss the story. It was good, I've never seen something by our theater that I thought was bad. The cherry on top didn't occur within the play however, but in the Q&A session afterward. It was horrible on some accounts, but funny when considering it all. Elizabeth asked, from the audience, why one of the pillows used in the play was so hideous, and Jacob (playing one of the main characters), shouts, standing straight and proper:

"Why are you so hideous?"

Everyone applauds, for like five minutes, laughing, Jacob, walks up the stairs of the set, takes a bow and marches back down.

Elizabeth isn't hideous by any means, but she's a character, one that Jacob doesn't agree with. I don't think she took it bad, because she later exclaims, "Oh, you know you just want to marry me, Jacob." The situation is hilarious when you consider their relationship. I spent my sophomore year of high school patiently listening to Jacob and EJ scoff and sneer at Elizabeth during lunch, it just made the event grow a new layer of...Hilarity, I guess, horrible, horrible hilarity.

After school, Tiffani, Lindsey and I planned an impromptu Disney marathon/bake-a-thon at my mom's house for Saturday. Then, upon announcing that I was going to get a bubble tea, and realizing that Tiffani and Bree had no rides, I took the two of them in my grandpa's truck and we drove into town, where we picked up three bubble teas and stopped by Micheal's so I could purchase a wee sketchbook. The sun came out, MGMT was blasting through the speakers, all was nice.

Hmm, I suppose I should thank the weekend gods for being so generous and benevolent.

1. Pick 25 of your favourite movies.
2. Go to http://www.imdb.com/ and find a quote from each movie.
3. Post them here for everyone to guess.
4. Strike it out when someone guesses correctly, and put who guessed it and the movie.
5. No cheating or you will be TERMINATED.

( They kind of stop being in order after a while. )

It's not my week, really. Is it ever?

Gosh. I absolutely hate this. Am I a bad writer or do I simply have a terrible case of bad luck? I mean, just last week I think Mr. Hardebeck said I was a good writer, but he was reading an essay of mine, not an article. I got assigned Timeouts.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but the bottom of the hierarchy of the Blazer is as follows:

Tid Bits > Timeouts > Fun Page

These past three issues, I've been assigned all three.
Great.
I really want to ask Mr. Hardebeck what he thinks (the editors assign writers to stories, not him), but I'm worried that I'll falter into a mess of tears.

This entire week, really, has been bad. I've been bad. I've been lazy with homework (of course, not English, because English homework this week was reading Fahrenheit 451, and I genuinely enjoyed that.) I feel generally craptacular. Like, the only person I can talk to without feeling like an idiot is Tiffani, and that's because she's so gosh darned nice and sweet about everything.

Oh well.

I guess I did end up with an A- in AP last semester instead of the B+ I foresaw.

And Mrs. Weston said I could turn in my homework that was due today, tomorrow. Even though I fell asleep in her class yesterday.

Oh yeah, I've probably gotten a total of eight hours of sleep this entire week.

Whatever happened to being happy and well-rested?

Oh great, I just liked one of my friends' statuses on Facebook, only to find out (through later comments by his friends) that it's a Dane Cook reference.

Cool. :|


Anyways, I am the ultimate guest. Let me tell you, I'm gracious, hilarious, and not afraid to drool all over your couch!

So, I met my mom's boyfriend's parents today. Boy, that was fun. They're southern, they're senile and they're sassy. Okay, okay, not senile, but I needed another "s" word, and they're all over 68, so it seemed slightly appropriate. Even though it wasn't...

Don't worry (not that you did), I didn't say anything remotely similar to that this evening. Heck, I barely said anything. I could probably actually list everything I said...

"It was big for me." (On why I hate driving my grandpa's truck to school)
"I, uh, draw. And write. And draw!"
"Do you want the flower food?" (My mom and I bought Mrs. Benson flowers, and I offered to put them in the vase and all...)
"Your sister is pretty!" (After seeing a picture of her from the 70's) "And look, still pretty!" (After seeing a modern picture).

Gosh, I never realized I was so awkward. It's people older than me, I swear. Well, significantly older than me.

It wasn't just his parents, actually. His aunt and uncle were there too, along with his niece. Now, his niece is just 18, so logic dictates that I shouldn't have been awkward with her, I mean, she seemed pretty cool. Until I said hi and she just turned around. Cool, pretty cool. I'm really certain she just didn't hear me, but she didn't say anything to me for the rest of the night. Which is even weirder when considering the fact that we hugged when she left.

As the night dwindled on, I got tired. I was sitting on a couch, listening to interesting stories of odd jobs Ken's stepfather had, but they just weren't doing the magic. My three and a half hours of sleep the night before began to show, and I eventually just lost it. I fell asleep, straight on the couch, sitting up and everything. Of course, I wake up to Mickey, Ken's awesome stepfather, laughing at me. He's literally so awesome that I started laughing at me, on the spot!

Thankfully, we left no more than a half hour later on account of my drooping eyelids. Maybe, one of these days, I can get more than four hours of sleep!