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I seriously don’t see how between my baby brother, my friends, my parents, this princess thing, my grandmother, and this sexy-dancing business, I am ever going to achieve self-actualization.
Monday, March 8, PE
Lana came up to me as I was in the shower just now, and asked me where her tickets for the Aide de Ferme benefit were. I was so tired—and my forearms are so sore from strangling Boris, let alone smacking that stupid volleyball, even though I only did it once…the rest of the time, I just ducked when I saw it coming at me—I went, “Don’t get your panties in a wad, I submitted everyone’s name to my grandmother’s party organizer, okay? You and Trish will get in. You just have to show up.”
She looked kind of startled. I guess I WAS kind of sharp.
You know, it’s becoming clearer and clearer to me that actresses get a really bum rap. You know, the ones with the rumored “temperaments.” I mean, like Cameron Diaz and stuff. If she has HALF as much stress as I do, it’s no wonder she freaks out and kicks photographers and breaks their cameras and all.
It just goes to show that what one person considers a “bad attitude” might actually just be total frustration over being pushed beyond the brink of one’s mental and physical endurance.
That’s all I’m saying.
Monday, March 8, U.S. Economics
Elasticity
Elasticity is the degree to which a demand or supply curve reacts to a change in price.
Elasticity varies among products based on how essential that product is to the consumer.
I am thinking I lost a lot of elasticity in Michael’s eyes after that whole sexy-dancing thing.
Or maybe it was the beret.
Monday, March 8, English
Everyone is too tired to talk or even pass notes.
Also, apparently none of us read O Pioneers over the weekend.
Ms. Martinez says she is really disappointed in us.
Get in line, Ms. M. Get in line.
Monday, March 8, Lunch
J.P. is sitting with us again. He is the only one at the table (who is in the play—I mean, musical—anyway) who isn’t catatonic with exhaustion. He’s even written a new poem. It goes:
I always wanted
To be in a play
But the thrill of running lines
Grows fainter by the day
Now that I’m here,
I just want a reversal
I’m sick of blocking,
Sick of rehearsal
Someone please help us,
Hear our pleas as they’re made
