I'll open with the strangest news headline I've seen in a long time (including Bush's nomination for the freakin' Nobel Peace Prize): Barbie and Ken are splitting up after 43 years. My reaction: "Huh?" I mean, the whole joke about them not being married after all those mansions and wedding dresses is one of my favorite Barbie gags, but really. Like the article said: Do the people at Mattel not have enough work to do? They invent real social lives for their dolls? Some people have too much time on their hands.
It's been a long week. I can barely remember the details of the earlier days. In fact, I can't remember at all.
Wednesday, I hung around for It's Ac, but Mr. T was out. It turns out that he had major surgery and is still in the hospital recovering. He felt sick on Sunday, and he's been in the hospital ever since. He should be back around the week after next. I feel bad. Mr. T's a cool guy. We're working out arrangements for a card to send to him in the hopsital next week; Mrs. Anderson said she'd drop it off on her way home for us.
Yesterday was Greg and my first anniversary. We actually survived an entire year. Considering who we are, and the stuff we've dealt with, it's a miracle. We've come close to breaking up twice (maybe three times), but we just care about each other too much to give up now. We have this safe sort of codependency. I honestly don't think I'd have made it this far through the Year from Hell without him there to support me. I know, I rarely get gushy like this here, but I love him and I want to share that with you and him. He brought me a rose and a tiger Beanie Baby (which I actually already had, but it was still sweet). I felt special being the only one with a flower, though most people just thought he'd started early.
I spent hours last night working on my science fair board, watching
ER at the same time. It's not great, but then again, neither is my project. I just did the best I could, keeping my perfectionism in mind, and wound up with a pretty good-looking project.
My parents left today for Atlantic City. Smokey Robinson is giving a concert there tomorrow. Smokey is to my mom what *NSync is to me, only she didn't get to see Smokey while she was still a teenager. I thought her plans might interfere with my plans at first, but Greg and I can still go out tomorrow, so I'm good.
So now I'm stuck with the rugrats for the weekend. I took Courtney to basketball practice tonight. We were running a bit behind, but everything was okay. I even managed to get some reading done for my AP Lit paper. Greg, Ian, and I are reading
The Three Musketeers, since we have to do a group presentation as well. It's a good book, not at all slow or boring. It's just so
long. Of course, as soon as we got home, they started fighting again. I swear, they wait until I'm in charge before they push each other into walls and slam doors and scream about how they hate each other.
I also had an Adkins test today. I didn't get a chance to study at all last night, but I was ready early this morning, so I read my notes before I left for school. I squeezed in the rest of the discussion points during RP, Geology, and lunch. I actually feel positive about this test. Usually I'm just indifferent. I'm afraid to get my hopes up, then come crashing back to reality. My essay may have been totally off-base. I sort of used the technique of writing everything I knew about the topic. Some of it has to be correct.
On Monday, I think, I walked into AP US History and Connie, who sits next to me, told me we had a quiz. All the quizzes in that class are pop quizzes, so I just asked what discussion points and reached for my notes to read over them. She was kidding. I didn't react like most people do ("What? We have a quiz? Oh man, the
one night I didn't read!"), so she said, "Lindsay, it just seems like nothing fazes you." I replied, "Well, things just keep fazing so often that they really don't anymore." I have so much to deal with that none of it affects me strongly anymore. I used to dwell upon everything, and it tore me apart. Just thinking about all that crap made me cry. I couldn't deal with that, so I moved toward this, where my emotions are muted. On some level, that can be a good thing; it's easier to get things accomplished when you're not fighting depressed sighs. On another level, it means all the stress is really getting to me.
Friday Five: Supernatural.
1. Are you superstitious? Not really. A black cat ran in front of my car tonight, which is extremely coincidental considering the date, but we're all fine, as is my car.
2. What extremes have you heard of someone going to in the name of superstition? I don't know anyone superstitious enough to live their live avoiding bad luck.
3. Believer or not, what's your favorite superstition? I always liked "step on a crack, break your mother's back" when I was little. I realized that, if that were true, everyone's mom would be in the hospital all the time.
4. Do you believe in luck? If yes, do you have a lucky number/article of clothing/ritual? I believe in fate, insofar as forces beyond our control that determine what will happen. No object has ever been lucky for me, though.
5. Do you believe in astrology? Why or why not? Ah, this is my question. Yes, but only profiles. Astrological predictions have to be too general to be correct, but profiles are usually eerily on point.
