I apologize for the uber-depressing tone of that last entry. I was in a depressed sort of mood, and I finished my base plate for Mr. Lifsey’s class. He has computers, they can connect to the Net, and the result of my boredom is what you see above.
Classes were undeniably screwed up today. First period, I talked to people and sang along to *NSync with Jorge. (He’s so good, it’s almost scary.) Opted to hang in Dr. J’s room during second period instead of the cafeteria. Was bored. Went to third period, saw Mark, was considerably less bored, but still depressed. Went to fourth and fifth; bored. Sixth wasn’t so bad, cause we watched Spider-Man. (The beginning of it, anyway.) Went to seventh, finished my test, and… was bored.
Eighth period, however, was a different story entirely.
I went back to Dr. J’s room, prepared to be bored some more. Lo and behold, Greg shows up, looking and sounding extremely tired. He says Mark (!) is next door playing Dance Dance Revolution, a video game commonly known as DDR. I give him a wary look, he goes away. A few minutes later, Greg comes back, this time with Mark, and both of them scare the crap out of me. I go with them, if only because I was *really* tired of being bored.
Ian is playing DDR with some Asian guy. I sit behind them, sidestepping Ian’s shoes (which were haphazardly tossed on the floor). I watch for a while, gradually figuring out how the game works. I watch Greg play; he turns out to be really good. I watch Mark; I begin to realize why he “doesn’t dance”. ;) Mark and Greg try to convince me to play. I say no. Greg threatens to hug me (he is all sweaty at this point). I cringe, but still refuse.
Not long after I sit down, I hear the guys behind me calling. Decent person that I am, I turn around. This is a mistake. Not only do said guys get my name wrong (Leslie?), but they want me to play (so they can watch, the pervs), refuse to leave me alone, and say I’m wearing “marijuana earrings”. They’re snowflakes, idiots! Just when I think I’ve heard the stupidest thing ever, someone proves me wrong.
So, it’s almost time for the bell. Mark and Greg [I could really use an abbreviation for them, you know.] are determined to get me try DDR. They finally resort to tilting my desk so I have no choice but to stand up. I sigh, and reluctantly agree to play, warning the onlookers not to laugh because “I don’t really know what I’m doing”.
It was fun. I only played once, but I’d be willing to do it again sometime. Boys, you know where to find me. =)
Came home, *almost* managed to avoid talking to my mom about Mark. Again. No such luck. I hate being the guinea pig child. My piano teacher loved her gift, though. It was this big, glittery treble clef. She taped it to the lamp. She may be a bit eccentric, but that’s not always a bad thing.
Must go now. Late. Going on another hair-washing adventure in the morning. Ciao.