Doth Mine Innocent Ears Decieve Me?

Hi.  My name is Fanny.  I'm five years old.  As far as I'm concerned, no one ever does anything bad, ever, and high school students most certainly do not drink alcohol.  Not at all.  That would be unthinkable.

So why, then, are people in the library talking about drinking alcohol? 

Perhaps they are talking about a role-playing game that they played over the weekend, in which the character they were playing drank some ale to go with his mutton.  Surely, that must be the case, for that is the only logical explanation that my naïve little brain will accept. 

I'm sure that everyone at my high school plays games like Hero Quest. (more about Hero Quest in an upcoming post)

Surely I misheard.  I could not possibly know anyone who would break the law.  Everyone in my school is as squeaky clean as my freshly sanitized hands.  They would never do a thing like that.  No, not ever.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

The small small small bit of Irish in me feels the need to acknowledge this day with its own special post. 

I didn't wear green today, because I wear what I want, when I want.  I am an individual (Emerson and Thoreau would be so proud of me.)

On a related note, St. Patrick is super cool.

That's pretty much all I've got.  I'm supposed to be doing class work right now, so I should get back to that.  Well, a fine morning to you all *Tips hat and skips away singing "Danny Boy"*

I Don't Think This Counts...

Hey, guess what I just realized?

It's March.

I know that I've already had that revelation here, but this revelation was, ever so recently, accompanied by this revelation:

March is reading month.

And if it's reading month, I'm reading.  A lot.  So that's why I have left you for so long with nary a new post to cling to, but, fret not, my companions, for I shall soon return from the realms of the bookworms to, once again, entertain you with strange stories from my life and odd ideas from the recesses of my mind.

But, in all seriousness, I don't think this counts as pages for the reading competition, so I wouldn't even read it if I was you.  I'm trying to win this competition, because I want free food, and the classes who read the most pages get free food.  It's really a simple concept.  Teachers want students to read, students want free food, teachers offer free food, students read.

I doubt that any of this is making much sense, but I blame the fact that I am just now recovering from a sore throat and fever. 

I was pretty sure I was dying.

I should pre-write a goodbye post, in case I ever actually am dying whenever I start thinking I'm dying.  That sounds like a good idea.

Just to Warn You All

Posts are going to be a little thin this month, and it's going to be a while before there are any real posts up here, because I just put all of my energy into a really depressing post that will never be published, so yeah.

Freedom Feels a Lot Like Sleep Deprivation

So.  It's Thursday.  Do you know what that means?

It means that I am freaking done with standardized testing for at least the next few months.

I feel a party coming on.

So, today was the last day of a three-day-long standardized testing torture session devised by the evil scientists who run our educational system to make students lose their collective sanity and want to set things on fire.

At least, that's how it worked out for me.

Me and fire, we're pretty tight after this week.

I'm using a lot of short sentences and tiny paragraphs because I can't really think straight right now, so I'm doing the bare minimum, language-wise. 

Anyway, today I forgot my calculator, but it was okay because the math wasn't too bad today.  I'm just grateful that I didn't forget it on Tuesday when we took the ACT.

I'm sleepy.  I think I will go to bed now.

Holy Crap, it's March

In my zombie-fied state, this fact absolutely must be shared with the world.  I still has the sleepy fingers.  I go sleep now.

Your Call Cannot be Connected as Dialed, Please Hang Up and Try Again.

That number you were calling that can't be connected as dialed?  Yeah, that's my brain.  It's kind of fried from the ACT.  I want to kill that thing with fire.*  (Phrase "kill it with fire" courtesy of zappablamma.com)

So that's my day.  I hope yours is better.  I'm probably going to go sleep some more now because my fingers are tired and they cannot type the words correctly.  To prove this to you hI hav e levft this sentence without any ummmmmmmmmmmmm corre ctions in it.  They is very sleepy fingers.

*For the record, I want to kill the ACT with fire, not my brain.  I need my brain for thinking and stuff.