today the kate loves everyone
My mom's drinking a margarita the color of lime-flavored snow cone syrup.
Today's my birthday. I've been excited about it all day, which is why I'm no longer running around in circles or punctuating my birthday announcement with a conga-line of exclamation points. But. But, this is the best birthday I've ever had.
In Japanese class this morning, Michelle and I hosted a peanut butter party in honor of my birthday. Ever since we discovered that the resident Japanese teacher hadn't tried peanut butter before, we had discussed holding a peanut butter party on some Friday after a quiz. Michelle brought crackers, bananas, and bread, and I brought peanut butter and honey. My Japanese teacher heated up a few mugs of miso soup in the teacher's lounge. Di and Nick got passes out of their first hour classes - Nick took a myriad of pictures via Akiko's digital camera, and Di's dad stopped by with a couple of two-liters of soda. I wanted to stay for second period Japanese and continue the festivities, but Mr. Browne insisted that I stay for rehearsal because of the contest tomorrow, even though I don't have a part to reherse, that fucking loser.
In chemistry, Mr. Kelly laughed over how many grammatical errors a student of his had made in one paragraph for an essay he had written about ultraviolet light. Extra credit was offered to anyone who could proofread it and find over fifteen errors. I found thirty. Mr. Kelly almost wet his pants laughing so hard, and I was promised extra credit, which certainly sweetens the pot.
I wore a tiara for most of the day today, so I received many birthday wishes. I was surprised by how many people came to the conclusion that it was my birthday without having any cues other than the shiny crown atop my head.
My English teacher gave me a "birthday treat" - a small candy bar of my choosing.
During history we received registration packets for next year. After school Nick and I were mulling through the throngs of backpack-toting folk talking, and as I was in mid-sentence Nick veered off to the side to speak with someone else. Needless to say, I didn't leave the conversation feeling loved.
Today was the last session of driver's training. I got a high enough average on my quizzes to skirt the final, so I handed in my text book and left early.
Yesterday my parents bought me Dance Dance Revolution as an early birthday present. A few months ago I let Pat borrow my PlayStation for entertainment purposes, so after he got off work last night we drove to his house and played a few rounds of Dance Dance Revolution. I'm hoping that if I dance constantly, I'll lose however much weight I gained that now prevents me from fitting into most of my pairs of pants. Because how happy does it make me when all I can think about is the denim that's trying to eat my stomach? Not very.
When I got home from school today I washed my face and soon thereafter found two wrapped gifts in the family room. The first was a memory card. I turned it over in my hands and was disappointed. I already had a memory card. It was then I noticed that it was a memory card for PlayStation 2. And I thought, I don't have a PlayStation 2. Then it was like solving a Rubik's Cube - the next present was Suikoden III, and then there was a PlayStation 2 hidden between the barrel chair and the kitty cubby. I dived for Pat, and for five minutes he went without air, because I squeezed him like a child gripping a teddy bear after waking up from a heinous nightmare. Pat? I love you to pieces.
I took an online quiz. Apparently I. Don't fit into a box. Or! I fit into the "non-box." You can choose.
I hate the day after my birthday. I want to beg people to keep partying, I want to say to them, "I'll give you a puppy if you keep partying." I'm afraid to go to bed because tomorrow morning when I'm slouched in a folding chair in band class staring with glossy eyes at Greg's gray and yellow tennis shoes, I'm going to look at my watch and see that it's February 26th, the day that fun forgot. Please love me tomorrow. Because I'm going to bed now.