Quotable Quotes; Notable Notes

"I still believe pigs can fly.
I don't have to see to believe;
they only fly when I'm not looking."
~

Some current events, edited only a bit but otherwise taken from my notebook. Names changed to be polite; the funny thing is that if the people who were in it were reading this, they would probably recognize everyone-- except themselves (unless they have something about them that is extremely distinctive; if one of you are, sorry in advance, just in case you get offended). Humans are funny that way. And remember-- this is completely true, 100% bogus, guaranteed by your local Odd Person Who Lives in a Dell, or failing that your local Dell manufacturer, and sure to make you cringe. If you don't like the kind of blog that gives you a (sometimes unpleasantly) detailed look into someone's life, make yourself scarce. Now.

>:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D

Monday 30 October, Year of the Lion (Year of the Cat system) 13.

~~~SChOOL~~~SChOOL~~~SChOOL~~~SChOOL~~~SChOOL~~~SChOOL~~~SChOOL~~~SChOOL~~~

'Dudette' didn't study for the exams, but what do you expect from someone who wears mismatched socks on purpose? It just seems a little weird to me, the sock wearing I mean.

I succeeded in making 'Jane' smile. She was trying to get her tie on at the last minute and I jokingly framed it as an order; --Corbata, ya!

Finally back on Standard mountain time-- hooray for long nights, whoop whoop!

All the girls that came in 5th and 6th-- 103-- make a line from the edge of the Plaza Civica where the shade is to the last step up towards the green building, if in single file. And the last and first girls are squished up against the walls or trying not to fall off the pavement, first and last respectively. They're doing a gymnastics-dance routine at the Estadio on the 20th of Nov. And thus it is shown: Men *are* inferior. They even brought in 17 girls from 4th to make sure it is all girls and an even number-- 120. Hah!
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Note: the 'Men are inferior' gags are all in jest, even though they really *are* inferior-- JUST JOKING!!!!

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My handwriting was messier than usual on the last page-and-a-half or so because I wrote it while walking. It's a good thing that I was walking on the ramps made for 'Miriam' (the girl in the wheel chair who's in 1rst even though she's 10; she'd never been to school before this year) and no one crashed into me, otherwise I would be seriously purple. And ouch-ing. Now you know why I usually have at least one bruised knee, usually two if any, sometimes one or two skinned ones. Right now (10:00 mountain time standard) though, my knees are fine.

I'm sort of congratulating myself because I wore, under my Evil Polyester Uniform, shorts and a t-shirt. If you feel the need to know how bad my uniform/situation is:

Goose-step the flag around, stand until your feet ache, get sun in your eyes, sweat because it is still hot down here and the uniform is solid polyester-- and then practice it. What's not to be liked?

Other than, of course, the whole thing.

(Quoting myself. Is that a bad habit? o.O)
All I have that remains of the Uniform of Death is my knee-high socks and the Sketchers Mary-Jane things. Just to be descriptive:

• The shoes are black and in some places have netting, but are 'proper' enough that I can wear them to school
• The socks are white and have patterned perforations which are blatantly abusing my "p", "r" and "t" keys
• The shorts are *short* (why do clothing makers make girls shorts [and anything else they can get away with] so, well, _short_?) and a slightly washed-out blue with a barely gray tint, a brown-- I think it's a doe-- embroidered in one corner, and completely useless strings sewn in the top middle which I just tied in a bow
• My shirt's short sleeved, round collared and plain white
• My hair's sort of frazzled and hanging almost loose, with the front part tied back (in the case of some of it, ineffectually) to keep it out of my eyes
• And my watch, for the sake of brevity, is digital and green camo.

That notebook page of description with commentary was for the sake of, naturally, description. I am a die-hard Harriet the Spy fan, and that alone should be explanation in itself, but: I like to describe things and detailed descriptions make things easier to visualize, so I'll try to faithfully put them in.

CONVERSATiON ON FRiDAY NiGHT WiTH DADDY
Me: Should I put my backpack inside?
Dad: No, I don't see the point; I'm not even going to lock it [the car]
Me: Then why did you lock it?


~~~ThE GUEST hOUSE ~~~ThE GUEST hOUSE ~~~ThE GUEST hOUSE ~~~ThE GUEST hOUSE ~~~ThE GUEST hOUSE~~~

Some (little) kids came by in a truck. "¡Queremos Halloween! Rosi [at least, I think they said 'Rosi'], ¡queremos Halloween!" {We want Halloween! Rosie, we want Halloween! (Which, admittedly, is much more polite than the usual mixed up form of Trick-or-Treat, "¡Dame [Gimme] Halloween!") Mom went outside to tell them to come back tomorow.

"You know you're a die-hard blogger when the first thing you do when you get hold of an internet connection is to post an entry which is really a one-liner, a rambling, confused string of words and the quintessence of nothingness, and though you have much better (and less inconsequential) things to blog about, you don't, because you want to slowly contemplate them and frame your thoughts and experiences in words ever so precisely, and so you end up typing a long sentence just to prove that you're still alive, and then, tearing just a little, you end the one-liner blog entry with a reluctant full-stop."
~