"... as wonderful as you, Sherri..." -Ms. B. ...sigh.

I keep stuffing thin mints in my mouth, one by one, even though I probably shouldn’t. I’ll get more zits or something, which lately I have, oddly. Well, at any rate, these cookies are quite delicious. Quite scrumptious. Quite wonderful. Like today. Yes, I, for perhaps the first time in my life (besides maybe my birthday), am labeling a B-day “wonderful.” Yes indeed. It’s my sister’s birthday, first of all, and since I was up well past 12 anyway, I decided to do something. You know, since I was up all by myself in the wee hours of the night already, I figured I could surprise everyone in the morning with decorations. So, I rummaged around in our junk drawer in the laundry room, and I found a puny light blue streamer roll, and a decrepit, foul, ancient roll of white streamer. I put them up all over the kitchen and a few in the doorway to the dining room. I had a little left, so I put them up on the fan. Then I finished my stats (mostly, anyway) and went to bed. So, early early this morning I did my little good deed, and I woke up to Kristen saying, “When’d you guys do this?” Well then. I drove to school (very fast, I might add. You know, that’s another reason why Fridays are great) and went to English, where I put down the tissues that I brought. It’s become a sort of tradition for me. You know, when the tissues run out, I just bring some more. Precal, meh. Stat’s, meh-er. At lunch we had a psuedo- key club meeting. And I was all gung-ho for Convention. Went to yb, had a rollicking good time, then drove home with K. I then went to the.. hm.. Weirdowskis’ house (obviously not real name, but..), where I spent a while. The husband/ dad looks kind of like a shorter, black-haired Mr. Y, and the mother/wife looks like a Native American/ African American mix. They’re both very nice and have a baby. So, I walk in, and the mom says, “Sorry about the mess- we’re baby-proofing.” I blink a few times and say, “Oh.” We walk into the kitchen as she says, “Yeah, and also another one on the way.” I say, “Oh. Congratulations..” And she pats her rotund middle and says, “Yeah, we’ve been busy.” At this point I blanch for a few seconds and then regain my composure as the dad walks in carrying a baby that’s smiling so hugely that it looks like it’s on aphrodisiac or some kind of drug at least. I don’t know what else to do but make goofy faces at the kid, so I do, which makes him smile even more. They, I think anyway, don’t quite know how to talk to teenagers, so there’s a sort of awkward silence in which I just make funny faces at the baby boy, Jackson, and also try and say something to fill the void. We eventually have a sort of forced, choppy conversation, with many gaping holes in it. We talk about their dog, Janey, and about my little brother, and also about if I baby-sit or not. I think I would have ended up staying there forever had I not eventually said, “Well, I guess I’m all set now.. Thanks…” And they smile sort of confusedly and say, “Bye, it was nice to meet you, thank you.” Hm. Weird family, but hey, they’re nice I suppose. Then I got home and we did the whole birthday thing. We ate enchiladas (which were really really cheesy and greasy, which was kind of… not the greatest. They were also mega-hot). We ate cake and opened presents. My sister and I were going to watch a movie, but then we remembered about her (final) basketball game. I felt really bad—they lost, and it was their last game, too. Oh well. My sister’s a bit bummed, but hey. K, different subject. I got an email from Ms. B today; it was very pleasant. Perhaps that’s what put me in such a great mood, that and sprinting around campus as fast as I could during lunch today. I miss running; I totally love the feeling of speeding past a bunch of kids, weaving in and out. It’s probably not the best idea, though, to run in hiking boots.. I really think I messed up my left Achilles tendon. It hurts. Not good. So yeah, I liked before school today, and lunch, and yearbook and driving home. There’s just one thing that’s going ridiculously wrong… something that I found out about just recently. So, key club convention is April 13-15. But get this, here’s the kicker: I’m signed up to take the ACT on the 14^th of April. Yeah. Ouch. So, I rummaged around on my dad’s desk, found the little “get in to the ACT” ticket, and on the back there’s instructions for changing the date. I have to call such- and-such a number and do such-and-such a thing. I tried calling it, but they’re not there. So, I need to keep my fingers crossed and I can hopefully go to convention. I'll call next week. I neeeeeeeed to. Well, I think I might go to bed soon, considering the fact that I’ve been going to bed extremely late every single night this week.Yes-- WEEKEND!!!! Sigh. I love Fridays.