Kosher Dill

Really cool thing I just learned about: I am now able to text posts to my blog! I just text whatever to this one number, and it'll show up on my blog! That sounded too fabulously cool to be true, so I tried it out. Sure enough, it worked. However, I'm only allowed to send 60-character texts. And it doesn't let me enter titles. But, I have some pictures on my phone that I want to get onto my computer, so. That'll be good. Plus, now I can blog from anywhere, like anywhere! But, only 60-letter posts. Bleh.
Really non-cool thing I just learned about: Alyssa doesn't have a blog anymore. She deleted it. Sobby-sob. I am the only person I know with a blog now. Which is probably why I'm craving a collab blog. I guess I'll link the the Other Blog again now, just in case somebody skipped the last post. Here it is. Go. Join. There's two so far. I just downed an entire pickle right now. We always have a jar of Kosher Dill Halves in the fridge, and I ate two. My lips and throat are burning with salt. I should probably gulp some water before I start breathing fire, but that would actually be very cool. On hot days, I could just blow a stream of fire into the air and then ka-zam! Warm as a button, not as if that analogy made any sense. (Warm as a button: Analogy? Metaphor?) Plus, if I ever found myself trying to survive on a deserted scrap of Antartic, freezing would be the last of my worries.
Though, I doubt a pickle would ever grant somebody the superpower of fire-breathing.
I'm kind of enjoying this burning sensation, though. Maybe I should glug some pickle juice and see if I really do start breathing fire. Probably not. And, a completely unrelated subject that I'm about to start jabbering about: the promotion dance. No, people, I am really not going to this dance. Whenever it comes up, people are like, "Really? Why not? You should go! It'll be fun!" Well. Maybe dancing is fun for some people, but I am far too awkward and uncoordinated to dance in a public place. In front of the television, while watching Hairspray? No problem. But in the school cafeteria, surrounded by all my peers? Yes problem. I've been to two -whinnying school mascot that I won't post in case somebody tries to track me down and kill me- Nights in my life, and I did not enjoy either of them. Why?

• people who jostle and bump and push
• sucky music that shatters your eardrums
• sweatiness from collective body heat
• people's adrenaline running rampant, acting wild, drunk and high on Gatorade
• self-consciousness when you start dancing
• slow dances when you have nobody to dance with so you just kind of stand around awkwardly trying not to gape at other people's intimate moments
  
• having to scream to be heard
• having to listen to everybody else's screaming
• more sweating and screaming and getting shoved around late into the night

And the promotion dance will be no different. I don't intend to go through all that for a third time. I'm not going to do the whole Great America thing, either. Amusement parks are also not my thing. I have a flash-forward of what it will be like. And that flash-forward does not portray 'fun.' But I'm going to do the walk-across-the-stage thing. Because... we have to. Otherwise I probably wouldn't. Speaking of end-of-the-year activities, our whinnying school mascot that I won't post in case somebody tries to track me down and kill me-a-thon has been moved to May 15th, or 18th, or something. It used to be on the last day of school, but too many people ditched, so they made it right smack in the middle of a month so hopefully more folks show up. I've never been to a whinnying mascot-a-thon. One more experience missing from my life. In sixth grade, I went to the "study hall" thing. Mr. Gordon sat at his desk, and us kids were scattered across the classroom. He let us sleep, so I napped most of the day. It was nice and cold in there. He gave us some garlic crackers. In seventh grade, Sarah and I had the same sixth period class. We looked at the carnival-game-ridden quad, then... left. My house is near the school, so we walked there, had lunch, read magazines, and so on. I don't intend to go this year, either. My mom said it was okay for me to call in sick that day. But then I'd have to bum around the house. If I went anywhere, people would think I was a truant. So I guess I'm finally gonna go to this thing. How about that.