A Very Littler Christmas

The time since I've last posted has been devoted to not failing school. Good plan on my part. This week, however, was pretty great because it started with me being sick on Monday which meant plenty of Scandal and Lord how I love Olivia Pope, jeez, Kerry Washington is a freaking goddess. When I got back on Tuesday I knew that I had missed Littler's birthday so I wore a shirt celebrating his slow transition into American society. I bought it at WalMart and has been described by my sister as "please don't wear that." I even printed out a belated birthday card for him and made one in English with Greycyn that incorporated all of our fondest memories as a class. Somehow all of my caring led to me getting blocked from replying on his Edmodo group as if that was somehow distracting! I am quite frankly insulted. Do I love too much? Do I care too deeply? Maybe, but it's not my fault that Littler is an outfit repeater. The next day was yesterday AKA Wednesday, the first day of drama club and rehearsal for the school play. Sophie decided she wasn't 'up for going to school' so she stayed home and I was almost late because I sat around, ready, waiting for her when it turns out she wasn't even planning on attending. In Chemistry that day it turned out that we had a quiz on the notes from Monday, which I didn't have due to me being absent. I failed the quiz, but what really bugged me was that after the quiz our assignment was to color a rainbow for the ENTIRE REST OF THE CLASS. After school, Julia Schmidt and I led drama club in the 600 building lobby (Every Wednesday after school, you think this blog is funny? Drama club is 10/10) and tried to teach itty bitty freshman what improv is. They were adorable. Then, I was told that I would be directing the play, Chushingura, in addition to Mr. Carter. It's like 47 Ronin, the Keanu Reeves movie, except with a tiny change to the cast. The read through of the play took two and a half hours because about an hour was spent trying to figure out how to pronounce all of the Japanese names like Ōboshi Yuranosuke and Nintendo. It wasn't easy. Now we come upon this morning, and I'll tell you what, nothing starts the day of more uniquely than sitting by Caleb in your first period. It is unique. So unique. In English, while we were discussing the summer reading when Greycyn says that we should write a detective novel starring Yasha. "If you want to become a crew kid you have to put on neon orange chubbies and look in the mirror of a boathouse bathroom and say crew row win three times fast," she said. After school, on the ride home I asked my mom what was for dinner, bracing myself for the answer. "Hotdogs," she said. "Oh don't work too hard mom," I said sarcastically. She asked what I'd like for her to make for dinner if I could have anything. "Porkchops," I said. Then for the first time in my life my mom told me she was too Jewish for something. Crazy how that works as an excuse for not doing something you don't want to, maybe, to be annoying, I'll tell mom I'm going full Kosher and need a whole new fridge for my untainted food. Who knows what tomorrow will bring. How does our sense perception determine our perception of the future? No definite answer.