I'm not going to go into specifics, but I do have to go to The Boneyard tomorrow to get my slide unbent :|.
And thanks to some special band kids, I might have to pay for water damage for three books.
And thanks to four tests in one day, I think my brain is broken.
And thanks to my one friend that actually asked me how I was doing, I probably won't go too insane.
...which is also a Christmas story!
well, a pre-Christmas story.....
A few weeks before Christmas (when I was around 6 or 7) we got our Christmas tree, a six-foot-something Douglas fir that was beautiful on one side, and a little homely on the other. So we did what we always do and just hid the ugly half in the corner, and began decorating. Now you see, I was not a particularly tall child, but I did have a zest for Christmas, which is why the bottom third of the tree was beautifully ordained with little nut crackers and glass ornaments, and the top looked a little dismal. So I, Chloe Keedy, patron saint of the Christmas trees, decided to do something about it, but we had run out of suitable ornaments. Reasonably, I tried rearranging the ornaments to fit, but I knew I needed one more ornament to really pull it all together- and then I saw them on the table. Ten silver, shiny, keys on a keychain just begging to be hung up in the celebratory hunk of dead wood that was in all essence my brainchild. So I did.
A few hours later my mother needed her keys, and I, having finished adorning the dead hunk of wood and leaves in my living room and gone on to other tasks, had forgotten all about them. Which is how my mother, father, sister, and I spent a good hour searching for those keys.
writing a few poems for English (no, not extras, I was absent, hahah). Also "Here comes your man" by the Pixies is making me love everything. Especially this cold weather! Finally, a real reason to break out the Amsterdam hat! Which, btw, is an instant disguise maker!
Where did Chloe go? Who is this attractive bearded man?!
and although (as most of you know) I have a hard time admitting when someone's project (or whatever) is equal to/better than mine, especially when I'm REALLY proud of it... but dang! There were some nice ones!
In other news, only 2 more weeks of marching band! Then I get to ressurect my grades.
I was walking through the hall today when some very rude girl shoved (no, not like "whoops" but like BAM) into me and broke my project. Which I have spent over 15 hours working on. I cried a little. But it's fixable.
my apologies. Upon re-reading said post (it's been deleted) I thought to myself
"Wow. what a scummy thing to say. What would your father think?!"
then I imagined my father saying
"CHLOE! HOW DARE YOU! That is not the way you talk to another human being! I'm dissapointed"
and cue me hating myself a little.
So once again, I apologize, and to anyone who may have read that post, it was in the heat of the moment, and I'm sure you'll understand what happens when people are (extremely) offended, and have easy access to the internet. Maybe I'll invest in a journal.
this is what my face looked like when I realized how offensive that was:
1. Flip keyboard over.
2. Continue eating whatever you were eating that dripped honey on your keyboard (if you were not eating honey, check behind you for bears. Or don't. You'll presumably die either way)
3. wet one corner of cloth with warm water
4. remove honey without ruining keyboard
5. dry with the rest of the cloth
6. check again for bears, as the honey may have attracted them.
7. if there is a bear, quickly write a will on something that is not likely to be destroyed by a bear attack.
8. give all your stuff to Chloe.
Please stop coming over to my block from east-jesus nowhere. REALLY.
and if you must, at least wear a coustume,
no, underwear doesn't count as a costume,
and if you're over 12, don't knock on my door.
Because I will go crazy one of these years, and do something drastic,
and it could happen to you.