popcorn molds

I'm debating whether or not I should convert my secondary diary into a series of unrelated thoughts, much like the transition Resa's alternate diary has taken. I'll only be alone for another week, only attend the ninth grade for two more (half!) days for finals, and the depression that resulted from a sickly combination of both is finally leaving me, much like how the soot sprites drifted from the chimney and into the cool evening air in "My Neighbor Totoro."

I only had two classes today during the short time I was at school. The beginning of first period was delayed until 8:05am as opposed to the customary 7:35am so students wavering towards the more delinquent end of the spectrum could clear up obligations (money, text books, and other miscellany that you owe teachers before you're allowed to take finals) and review for finals. Hardly anyone came to band, which makes sense, considering there's no final therein. I toiled away on my grad standard during the dud class period, my throbbing head and churning stomach worsening as my fellow classmates decided to make like an exceedingly violent wind-up monkey beating the fuck out of its drum. We were then given a thirty-minute break, and because I had nothing else to do I plopped down in the cafeteria. Soon thereafter, two girls seated themselves nearby and began discussing topics like dresses they had drawn and "Sailor Moon," and then they broke into song. How happy did this make me? Not very.

The final in photography was relatively simple, given that it was a multiple choice exam with several repeating questions. I finished my photo story near the end of the period and hauled it up front to grade, along with previous photo assignments. Mr. A ripped off a grade slip from his pad and announced that I had received a 100/100, and I let loose a "w00t" in response.

I came home and attempted in vain to make a sandwich, and ended up dropping a cryptic message on my mom's answering machine at work asking where the jelly was and then hanging up. I eventually was forced to settle with a naked peanut butter sandwich. I then held my little potted aloe vera plant under the tap and watered it, and sang "Big Empty" to it as I nestled it back onto its home atop the television set.

Last year for science, we were given an assignment to construct our own experiments to conduct on a plant, and I choose playing music for mine. I purchased two plants, placed them at opposite ends of the house, and then played classical music for one while I was at school. Excluding the minute holes peppering the leaves courtesy of Simon (cat no. 1), the plant that listened to classical music was noticeably healthier.

My poor little aloe vera plant had been gnawed to a stub by the aforementioned feline, and after having failed to water it for a year or two, its soil was beginning to resemble a pot of rocks. I took it upon myself to nurse it back to health, and its leaves are beginning to plump with aloe.

This entry is even boring me, so it'll end now.

And I discovered yesterday that microwave popcorn can mold. No lie.