February 11, 2003
Heaven In A Plastic Cup Will Save Me
Oh wow, today was not a good day. But if you're inclined to feel sorry for me, don't. I'm laughing while I write this.
For the first time in YEARS, I slept through my alarm. This would be bad for anyone, but for little anal retentive me, it was devestating, especially since I was planning on going to my first period class (on time) to plead with my English teacher to conference with me and tell me how to alter my paper so it could be beautiful, etc. I knew that coming to class late would make her think that I was finishing up my paper this morning instead of having it ready on time, but when I talked to her I guess she didn't think so. My frantic clarification of the situation probably made me pretty believable.
I freaked OUT, though, when I saw my clock. First I hoped that maybe there was a snow day and my parents had decided to just let me sleep in. I looked outside and it didn't seem like an impossible scenario. Turning on the news to check the school closings listing revealed that it was in fact an impossibility. So then I called my mom, explained to her the situation (she told me that I should have told her when my late arrival days were this week so she would have made me get out of bed this morning) and told her to call my school and call me in sick.
When I got to school to get a pass, the secretary said she was glad that I was feeling better.
I could have been sick, though! Hell, maybe I am. I can't figure out why I slept through my alarm...I didn't feel exhausted until I woke up. I'm getting paranoid that I might be dying. Ok, not quite dying, but something nearly as horrible.
I walked into Chemistry class ready to ask someone to shoot me.
I nearly cracked in that class. Before that I had nearly cried three times. First there was the realization that I was quite late for class, then the realization that my teacher would think I was a slack not deserving a recommendation let alone a passing grade, then grabbing my book bag and hearing plastic hit plastic and discovering that my calculator was missing but that I didn't have enough time to look for it properly.
Gah.
Then my Chemistry teacher was making sure that I understood how to form the molecular models and I had crappy styrofoam that made it difficult. So he zeroed in on me and asked me if I understood and I told him that I was just having a really bad day.
So I spent half of my morning walking around like a mental patient.
What the fuck does it mean when a guy says that you should make out with more people?? I could see that being interpreted as "Relax", but that didn't make sense in the context. I'll have to get a translation from one of my guy friends. I love playing the 'pretend you're every guy in the world' game with my guy friends and forcing them to interpret puzzling actions or conversation that I have encountered. Or weird stuff I'm planning on doing, to gauge what kind of reaction I'm going to get.
It's a great game, truly.
When I came home from school I frantically searched my car for my calculator along with just about any place it could be in my house. I even checked the bathroom on the off chance that I wanted to see a sine curve before I put on my mascara or something. No calculator. And I was late for an orthodontist appointment.
The worst one of my life, thanks for asking. Ouch! I have the normal aching, but when he was putting on a 'special' spring it felt like he was pulling teeth. As soon as he said he had something special for me that he had to go get, I knew it would be painful. I don't think orthodontists ever have fun surprises, at least mine doesn't. It's always "Surprise! You're going to have braces for another year!" or something else equally sexy.
The one thing that the snow makes me notice is how dark my family room is. I came in straight from outside and the snow kind of blinded me that it took me longer than it should for my eyes to adjust to eye my maroon couch for a gray calculator.
Coming home from my piano lesson I was having visions of asking my parents for a new calculator for Valentine's Day. About as unromantic as it gets, not that parents should be giving romantic gifts anyway, but...still, that's not fun stuff. I decided unromantic was better than me spending my "hard-earned" money for a sequel calculator.
I had to move my car in the garage so my mom could help me search my car for the elusive calculator and my dog followed me out there so I let him pop a squat in my passenger seat. I told him that if he found my calculator, I would give him five cookies. With him squirming around I knocked my arm in a weird way and I discovered my calculator wedged between my seat and the place for the seat belt. Score!
Since Cookie didn't technically find the calculator, I only gave him two cookies. I know, I'm cheap. But there weren't five to give...maybe I'll have popcorn some night when my teeth aren't screaming in every key and share generously. Then I'll be un-cheap.
Soo happy to have that damn thing back, though.
Oh, and score, being nice to people at food service places is a very smart thing to do. The girl at Panera accidentally on purpose made me an extra large IC Caramel (heaven in a plastic cup). It nearly made my night, the caffeine jump was appreciated greatly.
Driving my car is inspiring, I started writing a song while I drove. It was pretty nifty, truth be told. And now I'm afraid I have something in common with Justin Timberlake. I read in one article that when he came up with a melody, he would sing it into his voice mail so he could have it for later.
::hangs head in shame::
But there is a very important difference here. I don't let my stupid little diddies classify me as a songwriter, he does. It's an important difference. So I don't have to sell my soul to Lou Pearlman quite yet.
Love,
Mandy