* *!

No Gossip Girl. No Desperate Housewives. No Asians. No Dragon Ball Z, and certainly no brownies! Get. Your. Own.

To those of you who have no idea what that was about, Caitlin got to berate me in her last post and now it's my turn. Hmmph. Don't think I haven't forgotten Aerobidorf, Caitlin. He's going to get his second coming if things keep going on like this. I mean it.

In other news, I think I'm getting slightly better! I managed to argue philosophy with the dad yesterday (he is obsessed with my vegetarianism, being a doctor, and keeps coming up behind me and saying "It is ridiculous!") I swear, Juliette must think I'm the world's quietest person because I don't say anything except for "Oui" "Non" "OK" and "Cool" because I don't know how. Curse you, banal learning topics. I can talk about the weather fine. Still can't follow conversations though.

I think I may be going slightly music crazy. I woke up today with "Bob the Kelpie," a song from a video we had when we were little, in my head and it will not stop. This would not be so bad if the lyrics didn't keep cracking me up during class. They go something along the lines of "Oooohhh, sheep are cute, sheep are beaut, sheep are soft and curly" and Don Spencer and his guitar continue to pop up and say things like "C'mon Bob!" at rather regular intervals. Now there are sheep (correction: Sheeeeeeeeeeep) all over my economy notes. And I started playing bass on my scarf without realising. I want my bass.

Spanish today amused me somewhat, because they had to do an oral in which they went to a fortune teller. This resulted in a lot of people wearing shawls on their heads, and lots of "oohhh... oohhhh"ing from whoever was playing the fortune teller. Oh, and French guys are crazy. One of them wears silver nailpolish and another stole my Flower Clock watch off my desk when I was in the corridor, put it on, and then asked me the time. Then, everyone must think I'm crazy, with the don't like coffee, non-smoking, don't eat meat, don't like alcohol, don't wear makeup thing I've got going. Man, when I put it like that, even I think I'm weird. Juliette tried to teach me how to put on eyeliner today and I failed miserably, looking vaguely like a goth who hadn't slept in weeks, 'cos I kept rubbing my eyes.

My mum sent through my report today. The comments for english, french and history made me snicker, and I don't know how I got that smart-ass prize with marks like that. But why come no Lit? Is it a Year 12 thing? Do Year 12s not get reports?

Also, after conversing with Marnie, I wish to have a Boonie doll here. That is all.

--Emma