“No! I swear! She was really here!”

Here are some public service announcements brought to you by:

Your Othello Essay.
Have you started yet?

Attention all white girls at NCHS:
You are NOT black.
Really.
This means you cannot wear the following anywhere;
· G Unit
· Sean John
· FUBU (For Us By Us)
· Shirts that depict naked/scantily clad women (and cars)
· Shirts that depict naked/scantily clad women (and playing cards with dice and cars)
· “Black and Proud” shirts (Unless you want to get the shit kicked out of you)
· Afros
· Long fake fingernails (and to be perfectly honest, nobody should be wearing these. Tack-ay.)

Also, dating a black guy does not make you eligible to dress street. Just like dating a midget would not actually make me a midget. Although, I am short, but not unreasonably so.

Attention all fake Jews at NCHS:
You are not Jewish.
You know who you are.
If not, I will tell you.

Yom Kippur (and I’ll explain this to you since you obviously have no clue) is the holiest day of the year when you fast to atone for your sins and go to temple services. If you did neither of these things and instead went to a party and a concert respectively and then, were way too hung over to do your history homework; this does not make you a Jew. So to lie to your history teacher and say, “Oh, it was Yom Kippur,” is a bunch of shit because even if you did go to services and observe the holiday, you would still be able to do your homework on Sunday (like I did). Stop using “I’m Jewish!” as an excuse, and if you do, at least be like Madonna and learn about the religion so you don’t sound like an ass when you talk about it.

Thank you,
Management

The more you know...

Quote of the day:
Crystal: “Here’s a joke, Where’s the side walk?”
Thomas: “I dunno.”
Crystal: “Its all over town!”
Thomas: “That slut!”
-- Crystal and Thomas from a weekend ago.

“ ‘Runk is cuter!”

Oh my. When is winter break? I’m so very ready for it.

Its official, Mrs. Holden hates me. Even Daniel Restrepo said so. She tries to make that small “Eh, I better talk to her..” effort like Moline did every other time she bumped into me in the hall, but ultimately, its pretty obvious she isn’t particularly fond of me. Every time I see her and she talks to me it just sounds like she’s thinking “I’ll get this over with so that she doesn’t post about me in her blog.”

Apparently teachers are scared of my blog? That’s kind of hard core. I heard this from an anonymous source.

So much to do.. so little time because I waste it..

I’m not quite in the writing mood today. Too tired. What a weekend.

Friday night, I took Daniel and Jake to ASU to go in search of a Chik-Fil-A. We found the one on campus, but it was closed, so we ended up at Islands. Island’s really isn’t bad, but damn you know, I wanted some Chik-Fil-fucking-A. We walked around Mill Ave. a bit after that, yelled at some Jesus freaks out in the street, and had free water and shaved ice, and went to visit Thomas.

We’ll skip over Saturday. You know about it if you were lucky enough to be there anyway. So not much to post about. I guess if you really want to know, just look at Hanna and she’ll tell you.

I’m really really boring today because I’m writing this while taking a break from my psych paper, so I’m in research paper mode. Sorry y’all.

Quote of the day:
Stefi: Let's kill her smack down style.
-- my reply to Daniel after he told me his teacher annoys him with smilie faces.

“Not just attracted.. but strangely attracted.”

I had an odd moment today in newspaper class. It was one I didn’t think I’d ever have.

I stood debating using the term “pulling out” with Mr. Bach.

Granted, I brought this on myself. The line in my story goes as follows; “…63 percent of those girls were using pulling out as their method of contraceptive.” It’s an editorial about being a virgin here, gimmie a break. Mr. Bach had circled the words pulling out though, and with his handwriting I couldn’t tell if it said “clean up” or “clear up”, so I went over to him to verify.

He reread the line and tried to figure it out. I don’t think he could read his writing either. After a moment he nodded, “Ahh, I said clear it up because you just say, “pulling out was used” and I don’t know if that’s maybe.. too wordy? Like you could just make that shorter? Or maybe just say “63 percent used the method of pulling out.” Or just “pulling out was used” Something like that?”

The first time he said it, I thought I was going to die. Honestly. I got all light headed and felt sick for a moment. Its one thing to talk to a female teacher about having sex, pulling out, getting laid, using condoms, and your pain from lack of action, but.. your young male teacher? It was a little odd for me. Just because I see him as an authority figure.

The second and third time he used it, I didn’t see it as such a big deal. Still odd.. still weird to me, but, I got used to it.

Still weird.

I think I’ll start limiting my topics for editorials as to avoid odd conversations.

Oh, who am I kidding?


Quote of the day:
Stefi: I came to school third hour
StephanieBrown: Super lame!
Stefi: says the girl who was on attendence probation her junior year
StephanieBrown: I was....not....
-- Hi, Kettle? This is pot. Guess what? You're black!

Compliment of the day:
"You rock the box!"
-- Ben on my writing. Thanks Ben.

“You’re awkward to kiss sometimes.”

You wake up late for school.

Really late. So late that this time, you really do have to miss first hour. Thinking back on how class went on Friday however, you see this as sort of a perk. A small bonus attached to the fifty extra minutes of sleep you received.

Your dad’s not too thrilled though. In fact, you haven’t noticed until now, but he’s been yelling at you the past five minutes. In fact, that’s what woke you up. You had shut your alarm off in your sleep, again, and you contemplate whether or not you should tell your father, because this might make him yell more or less. Just depends on how he feels that day. As he laments that you only have fifteen minutes to get done, you roll your eyes so far back into your head that hurts right underneath your eyes due to lack of sleep. Psh, you’re not getting done in fifteen minutes.

OK, so technically, you do have time to get done. But you won’t because unlike the other 99.8% of the kids at your tragically unhip school (they’re still wearing skater gear when its been out longer than that kid in your bio class), you actually like to look presentable. This means make up, hair, the works. Fifteen minutes? Grrrrrrl please.

He continues to yell at you but your thoughts are elsewhere. “Let’s see,” you think, “If I miss first hour, I’ll have an extra hour.. I can get done.. and eat breakfast.” You then spend the next five minutes of your father’s speech thinking about what you’ll eat for breakfast. You decide on a honey wheat bagel and some tea. Scrumptious. Then you wonder why you have Ashlee Simpson stuck in your head. You then recall that she was the CD that was in your alarm clock before you shut it off. As your father continues on, you don’t listen to him because you’re boppin’ along to Pieces of Me.

“…should go to bed earlier!” you catch the last part of your dad’s sentence and then you’re off thinking again. “I would have gone to bed earlier..” you think, “if mommy hadn’t decided that midnight is the perfect time to go to Kinko’s.” Its true too. She did go to Kinko’s. And she asked you not to go to sleep until she came home which was around 1:00 a.m. But she had to make some last minute copies. Even if she had said “G0ddammit you better not be up when I get back!” you would have been anyway because that’s so like you. You’re such a sleep Nazi.

Your dad quits his yappin’ and goes on his merry way to work, so you take your sweet ol’ time getting done for school. Since you’ve had so much time to get done, you’ve never looked better and as you listen to Lady by Lenny Kravitz, you’re feeling smooth. You’re totally gonna have a great day. You walk into the kitchen to see something odd.. its your mother.. and she’s cooking breakfast for your sister. You’re late one morning and all the secrets come out.. “What the hell is this?” you ask.

Your sister, between mouthfuls of pancake answers, “Breakfast, duh.”
“You make her breakfast!?” you turn to your mother who has flour across her cheek and an apron on. You’ve never seen her like this. Its weird. “You never make me breakfast!”
“I don’t have time to make you breakfast,” your mother answers as serves another pancake out for your sister, “I don’t like getting up before 7:15 in the morning.”

You’re stunned. Shocked. How could this have been going on behind your back? She offers you a pancake as a peace offering and even though you’re angry, you take it. Screw the bagel. Pancake all the way. No syrup. Just butter.

While eating your pancake you decide, hey, you know what? Maybe I just won’t go to school today. So you don’t. And the day is great because even though you just had the weekend, what you really needed was another day off from school. (believe me, you did).

Happy I don’t need school, I’ve got my dad’s Am-ex! Day!


Quote of the day:
“How do you say.. turning Japanese under the risers?”
-- Me explaining to Stephaniebrown what this weird kid was doing in my drama class.

Its strangely mesmerizing... Admit it. It took you at least three minutes to even tear yourself away from the clip to look down here and read (or skim, you jack asses) three lines of text.

I knew it.

"I'm going to go nuts!"

I’m sitting in English class biting the end of my pen, “Why am I the only one done with my paragraph?” I wonder as I look around at all of my “peers” writing diligently. Mrs. Holden said paragraph right? Singular? I look down at my eight to ten lines. Looks like a paragraph to me. Were the kids so confused on the discoveries and reversals of Oedipus Rex that Holden only went over about 90 times last week that its taking them forever to write? Or did I not write enough? Should I not be done? I know you IBers freak out about tests.. but damn, didn’t she say paragraph? Thoughts begin to churn in my head... “But yet.. she had us get out two pieces of paper...” I shrug, “musta been for the pre-writing,” I justify to myself. So I sit and wait because, everybody who’s anybody knows the rule is you can’t be first to turn in a major test. I’m waiting a good three minutes before Jessica Putnam, who was sitting in front of me, turns in her test.

This means I can’t turn in my test yet because if I turn in my test next everyone will suspect me of looking off of her paper. They’d suspect me because its happened one too many times (Hi, David) and to all sorts of people (Hi, Ashley). Its not like its some sort of secret, its almost like a.. a right of passage. Except, not, because if you’re a hard core IBer, there’s no way in hell you’ll be [caught] cheating. I didn’t cheat, but that’s not the point. I didn’t need people trying to put two and two together and accusing me.

Ok, in all honestly I doubt anyone would notice and/or give a hoot, but I’m paranoid.

I see people stapling three pages together... why are they using both pages?

I eventually get up after a few more people and go up to the table by Mrs. Holden’s desk to turn in my paper. I freak out when I see Crystal has written an entire page. I hesitate before I place my test on top of her's and I notice Holden is eyeing my paragraph as well. I watch her make a face caught between trying to get something out from between her teeth and an “Ahhhhh don’t do that!” expression.

I do it anyway. I place my ridiculously short paragraph over Crystal’s giant paragraph and I walk back to my seat.

Mrs. Holden stands up right away, “Make sure you’re thorough.” She says.

Crap.

She motions me over to her desk, “Were you thorough?” she asks me.
“Well, it’s a paragraph...” I defend myself.
“I wanted a thorough paragraph.. like a page.” She looks at me like I’m perhaps the biggest moron in the entire world. And she’d be correct.
"Why on G0d's Earth are you even in my class!?!?!" her eyes seemed to scream at me.
“Oh.. I thought you meant like...” I motion to my paper as she hands it back to me, “a paragraph.”
“No.” she says flatly and shakes her head, "Nope."
So I do the walk of shame back to my desk to begin again.

With just ten minutes left of class I busted my ass and rewrote that paragraph to stand up at a page and a half. And, it was legible. And, it was good. Because its me.

Yea, I’m a moron, but shut up. I’m a very tired moron. And I still got it done, bitches.

Quote of the day:
Ben: "I'm serious this thing [Tommy Lee's penis] could knock an eye out."
Mr. Bush: "Please, Ben. I'm trying to concentrate here."
-- 6th hour is fun.

“Well, of course he’s weird. He’s orange.”

Things I learned this weekend:
- Graveyards are scarier when called graveyards and not cemeteries. Nonetheless, I don’t suggest any of you go to one after dark.
- Ashlee Simpson is not cemetery music.
- If you’re not feeling great, the best thing to do is to force friends who have giant essays due within 48 hours to hang out with you because then you do feel better.
- Just because you had caffeine doesn’t mean you can pull an all nighter.
- When you run into people you know at the mall and they pause when they say hello, it usually means they want to do a stop and talk.
- That white poplin you think is on sale really isn’t and it never will be.
- Shopping can make you feel better, but ultimately, it’s the ice cream.
- I have a very bad tendency to get lost. Like, I seriously couldn’t find my ass with both hands.
- In two weeks, the car is mine. Finally.
- Fold your hands child, you walk like a peasant.
- Its only bad karma if you laugh.
- Sometimes mood music is not available and you have to deal with silence.
- Tea does not constitute as water.
- Paris Hilton is in Vegas and can’t take three minutes out to answer five questions, therefore, she’s no longer hot.
- They were Sevens.
- I go to Starbucks too often. Though, I already knew that.
- I get into games for free with my press pass.
- I can get my friends out of class again.
- I miss good books, so I’m thankful for Mrs. Curran who lets me borrow hers.
- Grunting is always a sign that something is wrong. And I’m always right about that.
- I now know where every exit is at Scottsdale Memorial North.
- Boo yah.

Quote of the day:
Thomas: i cant believe i am doing this i feel so dirty
Stefi: its ok, it was weird my first time too
Stefi: but you get into it
Stefi: and the more you do it
Stefi: the better it feels
Stefi: and eventually
Stefi: you really start to like it
Stefi: and it feels good
-- Me on finding last minute resources for an essay.

By the way, check out the new pictures I published.

"You don't like me do you?"

For my sad friend:

At first we weren’t allowed to talk
But then we did, because Steph’s a cock. (J slash K, love you Stephanie, but it rhymed)
How dare she hide her coolest friend!
We’re going out now, but its just pretend.

His name is Daniel and he’s really nice
I wonder if he ever wears old spice?
He’s a scenester and he’s hip and he wears women’s pants
But that’s ok, his ass looks hot, so er’body rants.

He used to have a mullet, but now he does not
Thank the good lord, because it didn’t look as hot
He should burn me some CDs because he has good music taste
Just don’t burn me country, I don’t like it, so it’d be a waste

I’m glad we’re friends now because he’s truly an awesome guy
When I have to leave him for college I’ll scream, “WHY G0D!?! WHY!?!”
But I’ll always come back and visit, because that’s what friends do
Daniel Restrepo, I love you!

Quote of the day:
"Its like something the little freshman would say to mom after messing around with her daughter."
-- Jenke on Clinton's "What's your definition of sex?" quote.

“Does she own a Ferd?”

Today was great. I have good days, I have ok days, and bad days, but today was great. Seriously. It all started last night. Last night was really good.. the whole afternoon was good.. I feel like StephanieBrown (one word) almost except not. Its not really much of your concern the crazy happy mood I’ve been in since about last…. Wednesday or so.. and the fact that these past couple days have been great only elevated me. Awesome.

I felt bad for Ben Burt today sixth hour. Tara, the girl all the guys want, made one of these fortune telling things that I hadn’t seen since about 4th grade and was passing it around the class. You know, the ones where you pick a number and then a color and then you get your “fortune”? One of those, but she filled it with mean things instead of nice things because she’s a sophomore.

Mr. Bush decided he wanted in on the fun, so Tara handed the fortune teller over to Ben to do the honors. All was fine and well until Ben finally had to read the fortune.
“Oh G0d, I don’t want to read this,” Ben literally turned green. “It says, You like Men.”
Mr. Bush rolled his eyes and patted Ben on the back, “Well ya said it out loud, Ben.”
Ben, having a slight moment of frustration, decided that telling a joke would be the best way to break the tension he just caused for himself (no one else felt it).

“What do you call something that’s blue and doesn’t fit?” He asked the class. “A dead epileptic!” When no one laughed (because it wasn’t funny) he thought a good explanation would do the trick, “You know.. because they have fits…?”
“Actually,” Mr. Bush cut in, “We have seizures.”
Sadly, Ben’s head exploded immediately after. Two blows in a row, just moments from each other. Such luck!

Quote of the day:
“I swear, its not the skit!”
-- Me, lying through my teeth with Mr. Bush when we just could not control our outburst of laughter at a really bad serious scene in class today.

“I have a love affair with ham. Ham = Love”

So, with all of my extra time, I’ve been doing some thinking. This isn’t complete yet or anything, but I have for you, right now, my partial Stuff to do Before I Graduate list.

Stuff to Do Before I Graduate
· Have actual conversation with Daniel Thai
Did it already. It turned out ok. I kept it basic, so like… physics and history.
· Ask a guy out.
· Join as many [cool] clubs as possible and become secretary of them all (so far, two down).
· Wear my hair up more often as I received many a compliment.
· Get interview with Paris Hilton, even if its not for the paper (they had me fax my questions over so… could be any day.. could be never. Just wish for me.)
· Play soccer in English.
· Bake 300 cupcakes total (252 more to go).
· Get my braces off. (ETR (estimated time of removal): Late October-Mid November)
· Ditch a class without having my mom call in so I can finally label myself a rebel.
· Get into Writer's Circle.
· Create position of secretary for Writer's Circle.
· Become secretary of Writer's circle.
· Make Mr. Bush chocolate free biscotti (not as bribe).

More to be added later I’m sure.

EXCLUSIVE: Katie Holmes Half Smile Alert!


Quote of the day:
Kid in Government: “Everyone likes sex!”
Dr. Jenke: “Go ahead and let me know when you get some.”
-- Its not even funny…. But it’s the best I could do on a day like today… everything else is an inside joke or strictly confidential.