i don't know either

Today as I was walking out to the bus after school, I noted a girl sitting upon a bench with her knee brace on the outside of her jeans. This somewhat reminded me of how the elderly sometimes, in a bout of absentmindedness, accidentally slip their underwear on outside of their pants. Except not quite as senile.

Pat's finally coming to visit me tomorrow, and I get to escape from school early to meet him at the airport. I brought a picture of us on CalTrain to school and showed a few people, most of whom were surprised that I even had a boyfriend in the first place. I announced to a girl in my photography class that he was a senior, and she congratulated me, whereas the classmate sitting next to her declared that he refused to believe Pat was a senior. On his meandering path to his locker, another student queried, "Kate has a boyfriend?"

"Only for the last ten months," I murmured inaudibly.

"Kate," the aforementioned doubting classmate added chidingly, "you're so mysterious."

In English class I gave a presentation regarding the set from "Romeo and Juliet" I had spawned the night beforehand. I only spent about twenty minutes sketching it upon a mammoth sheet of paper, but I devised a plan to explain that, you realize. I claimed that at the point in the play in which the scene was intended to be acted out, none of the characters had any idea about how their fates would play out -- the absence of detail in my drawing represented their lack of foresight. I could feel my cheeks harboring more and more heat as my speech progressed, so I compensated by not breathing between sentences in order to speed things up. This caused me to choke on what I assume was nothing.

Now I shall conclude this entry due to the 200-point research paper that spans over English and biology that practically hasn't been started and must be finished tomorrow.

Which reminds me, I still have to start working on that report about the negative influences of homework and the fact that, contrary to popular belief, it doesn't benefit students or teachers. And then I can add a massive compilation of accounts reinstating the unfortunate consequences of homework.

Homework reminds me of some of the multitude of prescription drugs advertised on TV, ones that proclaim that merely by taking a pill a day you won't fall into a fit of sneezing when a cat enters the room. But then they get sneaky and have the announcer whisper warnings of side affects in the fastest voice that he or she can manage without rupturing their trachea: "May cause headache, abdominal pain, random bleeding of the eyes, coma, death, and the bruising of citrus fruits."

Why have the amount of notes and guestbook signings suddenly tapered down to what appears to be nothing? I mean, who the hell reads this besides the list of those were kind enough to plop me onto their favorites list? Please, for the sake of imitation cereal, leave me a note or sign my guestbook. If you do I'll mail you a month-long AOL trial disk, because God knows you could make a planet out of those things with enough air pressure.

But yeah, now I really need to get going on the monstrous pile of homework that awaits, a mischievous grin upon its face.

Toodles.