*(o-o)* Who says white girls can’t make those cutesy-creepy little Asian face thingies?
Okay. Strange way to kick off a new blog entry. I’m just gonna say right now that you probably won’t be seeing as many posts as usual because of the whole having to use my mom’s computer thing, but also because the weather is just so gol-dinged nice. I don’t want to be inside tapping away in front of a computer. I want to be outside walking the dog or riding my bike, soaking up as much sun as possible before next year’s winter. Summer is so close. Two weeks, and I’ll be done with middle school and packing my bags for Europe. But I still have finals to get through. I took my math exit exam this last week and felt pretty good about it, but my mom says she won’t let me go on to the next level of math even if I get one hundred percent of the questions on the test correct. I’ve had an A just about all year, except for about a month when it was a B+. I wasn’t really having any trouble with anything math-wise this year. “Why not?” I asked. “I don’t want to repeat a class that I earned an A in.” She told me that I didn’t belong in advanced classes. I don’t want to be in an advanced class. I just don’t want to take eigth grade math AGAIN while I’m in ninth grade. But if my mom says so, that’s that. Next year, I’ll be repeating this year’s math class. Which really sucks, because that wrecks my college application. I still don’t really know why my mom doesn’t want me to advance to ninth-grade math in the first place.
I am getting an inkling that you people don’t read my blog entries through. I think that maybe you all are victims of SKIMMING. So I’m going to insert a confusing sentence here in the middle of this entry. If you are not a skimmer, then copy/paste the sentence into a comment and I’ll know who really reads my blog and who brushes over the posts quickly just to get it out of the way. Okay, here comes the sentence: The palm trees couldn’t call after that startled jellyfish because the bookshelf’s roar was so loud. There you go. Now I’m just going to go on with my next subject and pretend this paragraph was never here...
Actually, the deal now is that I have to go to school. It’s 8:01, and I still need to put the dog away and lock up the house. Just kidding. We never lock up the house. Only my dad actually has a key, the rest of us just enter through the backdoor or side door, which are always open. Feel free to break in. Relax, have a snack. But get outta there before my parents find out. :D
Okay, it’s the next day now. God, my life has been so screwed up the last few months. Because of the whole mold thing, we had to move all the junk out of my room and cram it into a teensy guest room. Since the dining room was taken by my sister, that was also where I had to live. I should have taken pictures. There were several layers of random objects strewn over the floor. I had boxes stacked three high, textbooks piled on a chesst of drawers which sat on a few plastic storage boxes. The couch in there got covered with more junk, so I resorted to sleeping on the ground. This was my world for the next few months, as mold people sucked out mold, inspection people came over to inspect, and carpet people came over to install carpet. One of the carpet guys was old. I overheard him talking to my dad: “I’m getting to old for this... I’ve been putting in carpet this whole week and my back can’t take much more. Damn, every day I do this I wish I had gone to college.” (Sorry for the profanity, but that’s what he said and I wanted an exact quote.) No lie, people. I felt bad for the dude. Have you ever had a heart-to-heart with your carpet installer? At least my dad can check that off the Life Goals list. Anyway, we had to truck everything downstairs when the carpet people finally came. I slept in the living room, sandwiched between the dresser from my parent’s room and a stack of file boxes. They finished earlier on today. The carpet is great; plushy and without a single little stain anywhere on it. It is so much better to look at than the bleak, splintery floorboards that had stared blankly at me for so long. I printed out a small picture of a Honda CRV, and wrote my initials and the date on the back. Before they laid down the carpet, I placed it on the padding. I don’t really know why I did that. I guess so that people will know what cars looked like fifty thousand years from today, when somebody else’s toilet floods and they have to tear up the carpet. Then they’ll find my little car picture, look at the date, squeal, and try to sell it on eBay under “Antiques.” (Well, that’s what I would do!) I’m taking a break from hauling furniture and boxes up the stairs right now. I’m home alone, so I can’t be generous and share the labor with my parents. I’m about halfway done... just an hour or two more before I finally have my room back.
Don’t ever take your room for granted, kids. It’s a real luxury that you do NOT ever want to lose. Take it from me: it sucks.