Feeling: whimsical
Listening to: Jump, Little Children - Cathedrals
Reading/Watching: Sword-Maker

I hate when I get to the end of the day, gaze back over it for interesting moments, and honestly cannot remember what happened.

C'mon brain, you're not that tired! And the day couldn't possibly have sucked enough to be a repressed memory already.

Okay, let's be methodical about this. There is no reason for an entire 24-hour period to pass in such a blur. First, I got up and went to school. Julie missed our practice, so I had a free half hour. Steph skipped out on her voice lesson without a phone call, so lo and behold, more half hour.

In Nutrition class (sorry excuse for a science credit, bleh), Garcia was so bored he constantly tried to flip my book closed, then pulled out loose papers I had tucked in the flyleaf and began doodling on them- playing tic-tac-toe with himself, drawing oddly disproportionate renditions of the lower half of the body, then writing "Katy's Notes" on the top. I scribbled back, "If you're going to frame me, at least spell my name right."

This began a doodling war. And a series of disturbing questions about my sex life. Because he may say he's 26, but secretly he's 12. And there is nothing more dangerous than a bored 12-year-old.

The teacher chose that moment to wander back and glance over my paper, covered with phallic doodles and conversations about who I'd rather do, the hairy guy in the second row, or the music teacher who looks like a walrus (for the record, my only answer was "EWW"... you know, 'cause I'm so mature myself). She forced a laugh and gave me one of those dagger-looks, and I actually tried to cover the page with my hand, like that helped.

So yeah, after my regression to junior high, there was choir, then the recital where I sang Gretchen and only flubbed one word (imperceptibly), and work study, where I slaved for hours over the New York Times crossword puzzle. (Since when are numerals allowed?! A three-letter-word for James Bond is not 007!)

Then Miller and I made up his voice lesson, he started singing "opera-style" as a joke and it sounded damn good, and I bored him silly telling him how great it sounded and how he should do that more often. Afterwards we had dinner and goofiness with peanuts in a bucket, missing salads, and floppy steak fries at Texas Roadhouse.

Then home, Gilmore Girls on tape, and homework, followed by an attempt at a diary entry.

...Which turned out to be just the type of entry that I've always hated. Hope you enjoyed the recap.

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