Saturday, January 29, 2011
There are only 17 girls in my grade (shocking, I know, but I go to a private school) and we all pretty much get along. The only thing that really splits us down the middle is who hates JBiebs and who worships him. It's like the Civil War all over again, sisters vs. sisters!
But who is this dude anyway? Another heartthrob, destined to be "popping pills" in a year or two? Another Jonas Brother who breaks up with his ladies via 30 second cell phone calls? To me, he's a pint-sized 16 year old who coos conceited lyrics and wears shoes that look like Moon Bouncers. But is he more than that? Am I wrongly accusing him of being the next male Miley? Was he some singing low-income Canadian hockey player with a dream like the commercials for his new 3D movie say he was?
Personally, I don't know enough or care enough about him to hate or love him. His songs are catchy but the lyrics are all, "ooooh I'll give you all my moneyyyyyyyy because I loooooove you, oh babyyyyyyy." His style is bad but his hair, oh his hair; because of him all the boys in my grade think glossy bangs are cool on boys. So I guess in this situation, I'm Sweden.
What do you guys think? Is this a war? Do you hate him or love him or are you a Sweden?
Thursday, January 27, 2011
HOW I DISCOVERED MY GRADE:
Mrs. M: These were good, except 2 big mistakes were made by a senior, which is bad, and by somebody in your class.
Latin B moans.
Mrs. M: I don't want to embarrass our Flavia here....
My eyes widened in absolute terror at the mention of my Latin name. The class explodes in laughter and "ooooh Jen flunked...."
Mrs. M: ... but she made a pretty bad mistake, but it's ok, because she'll never do it again.
The class sits in anxious rapture.
Mrs. M (turns to face me): You skipped a whole page.
The class explodes into another chorus of "oooh Jen flunked..." and laughter.
Flavia (aka me): Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat??? A whole PAGE??????
Mrs. M (laughing): I can't give you points for what you didn't do!
Flavia: Omigawd, I'm dooooooomed!!
Adam (kindly patting me on the back): It's ok, it was only like, 10 points.
Flavia: WHAAAAAAAAAT??? HOLY POTATOES!!!!
Adam: I mean, it was like, 5 points. It was the gods and goddesses and stuff.
Flavia: NOOOO THAT'S THE ONLY THE THING I'M GOOD AT!!!!!!
Guys, I got a frying 75%!!! That's a C!!! ON MY LATIN EXAM!!!
Well, on the bright side, I did better than some kids who did do that page.
But on the dark n' evil side I would have gotten a good grade if I didn't miss that stupid page on the back of the exam about Jupiter and Venus and why-didn't-Apollo's-name-change-when-the-Romans-started-worshipping-him BLA BLABBITY BLA BLA BLA!!!
My other exam grades were good so I didn't feel too awful. I felt inclined to tell you guys that so you wouldn't think I'm stupid.
HOW I BROKE THE NEWS TO MY MOM: (I used the start-out-with-a-positive technique, if you were curious)
Me: Hey Mom, guess what?
Me: Ms. Richter said that my extra credit paragraph was so good, that she wants me to send it to companies that make machines that generate renewable energy!
Mom: That's great! It must be really good!
Me: Yeah! And, I, uh... um IskippedapageofmyLatinexambyaccidentandgota75%... Oh look my room is messy! I'm gonna go clean it!
Yep. That was my Wednesday for you.
In other news, we had another blizzard today! Which is why I have no school! Frankie and I waddled outside only to find out that the snow was THIGH HIGH! Holy Potatoes! (It's my new thing, DEAL WID IT!)
In other news, check out this new blog from a blogger you probably know! It's awesome! On the blg she wrote that it's anonymous so I don't know if I should reveal her blogger identity, but go click on it!
Also, Frankie is blogging again! Comment and follow to make a little kid's dream come true! YOU HAVE THE POWER!
Lastly, I made a bet with myself: as soon as I reach 70 followers I'm gonna do a Q&A post. I realize the new followers probably don't know who Adam is or what grade I'm in (8th grade, we got that one down), so [reasonably] ask away!
NOW lastly, I've been thinking about renaming my blog. Last time I said that I got comments saying not to, but I've been thinking about it some more, and I don't really know. So should I change it or should I not, and if so what should I change it to? UGH at a time like this one really needs a flower with rippable petals.
What about you guys? Have you ever skipped a page of an exam or done something equally horrific?
Saturday, January 22, 2011
I was on the far end of the court, against the curtain talking to Josh, and the boy (who we'll call the Wounder) was on the other side of the net hitting with Frankie who was on our side. My left arm was facing the court. Everything was all honky-dory until I hear, "Jen! Look out!" In slo-mo my head turned, my hair whipping my cheek, my mouth in the common O formation, and I saw my life flash before my eyes. I saw myself getting my glasses, loosing my first tooth, landing a leading roll in Fiddler on the Roof as an old lady, falling in love with PBS's champion nerd Rick Steves...
... And then BAM! The ball collides with my upper arm like it was fired from a cannon. Everybody's jaws dropped open. And I blacked out.
No, just kidding, but I went sat out for the rest of the clinic and coddled my wound with a pack of ice. I was really pissed off. The dude didn't even have the manners to say sorry! And the dance was tomorrow! How I was supposed to wear that T-shirt with a bruise the size of a tennis ball (literally) and the color of a bowling ball on my arm? HUH?
Everything turned out fine though. Thanks to the ice, the bruise wasn't too big or too colorful. But I was a celebrity around the racket club for it.
Everybody at the racket club knew me because of the battle wound. I was a local celebrity. One girl told me that she talked to the Wounder, who goes to her school, and he wasn't even sorry. Oh well. At least he brought me to Harry Potter status.
Bruises and scars are like tattoos; they're an accidental way to adorn the human body. My dream scar (yes I have a dream scar, I'm real macho) would be a teeny tiny sliver under my lower lip. I saw it on some movie somewhere and it looked cool... but anyway. Scars and bruises are like a medal of honor. They don't get the ewww response tattoos get from some people. And also they make you look interesting. Scars just scream, "yeah, I'm interesting, I have a whole dark secret past in which I was a field operative for the CIA and assassinated an evil mad scientist who was creating an evil jellyfish that was going to destroy the whole world, so how 'bout you?"
Have you guys ever had five minutes of fame because of a battle wound?
Thursday, January 20, 2011
On to the post...
At school I'm known as the nice girl. The girl who's always smiling, the girl who never tells lies. That became so much of who my classmates saw me as, now they don't see the evolving me. I've known most of my classmates for half of my life. I used to be the shy, quiet girl; now I'm the brave girl. I am brave!
It started at Six Flags New England last June on an end-of-the-year school field trip. I really wanted to get one of those airbrushed tattoos, because I've always wanted a real tattoo and I still do, like a really mini star on my ankle or something. So I got one. It was a dragon. My friends were so shocked that I, the good girl, wanted a tattoo, and I don't know where the conversation went, but as a form of endearment or something, they started calling me a "marshmallow", because I'm so soft and sweet and NOT tough. BUT I AM TOUGH!
This year the whole Marshmallow thing has gotten way out of control. At first it was funny, but now it's obnoxious. Whenever I do something remotely "tough" or try to execute a karate move on the door knob, everybody just goes, "you're a marshmallow Jen!" BUT I'M SO SO NOT!
I was the only person in my English class last year to stand up to my teacher when she assigned us last minute homework over email and say it was unfair, and I won the argument. I call out on girls when they're acting all mean. I use my voice. WHY DO THEY CALL ME A MARSHMALLOW? I ask people why they call me a Marshmallow but they never have any reasons.
All of this just makes me so angry. Why can't I be tough? Why can't I be a CIA agent? Who are my classmates to say I can't be tough?
Being "tough" isn't being the kid who wins all the arm wrestling competitions. Being "tough" isn't having the hardest High 5. Being tough is when you don't take no for an answer, when you don't let people step on you like a doormat, when you use your voice. I may not be their standard of tough, but according to the RIGHT standard of tough, I'm tougher than my classmates.
So I'm not a Marshmallow. My classmates can laugh and say differently, but only I know who I am, not them.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Or as Maddy and Sophie say, Justin Bieber = no, and I have to agree. Just look at his smoldering sneaky smile!
I saw only two looks I liked tonight. Claire Danes and Annette Benning. What do you guys think? Hit or miss?
p.s. this is my 100th post! here to a 100 more! *thrusts plastic glass filled with orange juice in the air and spills it on her pajamas*
Friday, January 14, 2011
These pictures would explain why we didn't have school Wednesday and Thursday. I guess Mother Nature felt bad for giving us a crappy fall (the leaves were HARDLY colorful! It was like they ran out of paint and had to use dried-up Magic Markers instead!) so she dumped 2 and a half feet of snow on us! That's THIRTY INCHES! And that's 76.2 centimeters for people who don't live in the United States of America, Liberia, or Myanmar!
As I'm writing this, I'm on the phone with Marg. Tomorrow we're expecting letters with the verdict from the high school we applied to on whether we got in or not. Now we're talking about how weird it was how we became friends. It went something like this:
According to Marg, she became friends with Dani, and I was best friends with Dani at the time, so we became besties through her. We've went to the same small school for years but never really knew each other until SOCCER.
If you've been reading our blogs for a while, you know that we HATE soccer. No offense to those of you who do. But we hate soccer with a burning passion, and that's why we started our school's General Exercise club as an alternative to fall sports. But when we were puny 7th graders, we couldn't really do that.
After classes we would always have to take a bus to the soccer fields. The bus took a back road so it was always bumpy bumpy bumpy like we were on an African safari instead of stumbling through suburban woods. Marg, Dani, APG and I always sat in the back to optimize the rocky-ride potential. And the rest is history. We just clicked back there laughing about how much we hated being the bench warmers.
Now Dani, Marg, APG and I are waiting for the [hopefully] nice n' fat manila envelope that's supposed to come tomorrow and dominate the future of our high school careers. We may stay at our school, we may not. Some of us may go, and some of us may not. But whatever happens, we'll stay best friends.
I guess yapping on the phone brings out the sentimental sides of us for Marg and me while when Dani and I talk on the phone, we talk about how much we love onions and especially when they're on top of hot dogs.
What about you guys? How did you guys become best friends with your best friends?
p.s. check out the bulletin board tab up top, that's where all the new stuff is gonna go, like news articles or blog mentions etc. They'll be a (1) next to it when something is new, like those annoying Facebook notifications!
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
I think our best bet is through layering. Lots and lots of layering. And I know some of us love to do exactly that (ahem, Savannah).
Layering can be difficult- you don’t want to layer so much that you are round and puffy, but you still want to be warm.
How ever did I manage to do this?
As you can see I’m wearing a button down, which I put a t-shirt under for extra warmth. Then I layered a thin skirt over a thicker one, which is not only super warm, but makes your skirt very poofy and cool. ALWAYS wear tights; you don’t want to be nicknamed No-Tights McGee like Sophie did, plus they keep your legs toasty. Also I am wearing socks, which helps a lot (my feet were boiling! Okay maybe that is an exaggeration but still).
Furthermore, you absolutely positively should invest in a nice warm sweater. A grandpa sweater, a cashmere sweater, a wool sweater, or a cute sweatshirt (they exist, you know!). These are all ultra-cozy options and you can just wear jeans with them or whatever.
I’ve seen a lot of cute sweaters around and about with animals on them (particularly at Urban Outfitters, which can be expensive), and you can always find a good grandma sweater at a thrift store, for cheap. My friend Margot has a cute blue sweatshirt from H&M that wasn’t too expensive, she says it’s super duper comfortable and I always think it’s so cute on her. There’s a sweater for everyone with every taste, so there’s no excuse not to get one!
So in conclusion, dressing in winter isn’t that hard, just have fun and stay warm, kiddos.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
I also want to acknowledge the other 5 people who were killed and the 14 people who were injured.
My question is, how can we be a democracy with it being dangerous for our Representatives to talk to their constituents?? Giffords was among the targets of 42 threats received by Congress in the first 3 months of 2010, because she supported the health care bill. And now look what happened! This is just so awful! This world is so dangerous! And this happens just days after that politician was assassinated in Pakistan! By his body guard!
What do you guys think about all this insane craziness?
p.s. on a much much lighter note, guest post from Maddy comin' up soon! If you wanna guest post too or vice versa go the submissions tab.
SORRY THAT WAS SO DEPRESSING, BUT I JUST HAD TO SAY IT
p.p.s DANI HAS A BLOG!!! FOLLOW IT!!!
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Today these boys waved at me. I didn't wave back. Because I don't know how.
I don't really consider the fact that I have zero clue when it comes to boys and, you know, dating them, to be a problem. It's just that when they show interest in me I freeze up and don't make eye contact and run away.
My "love life" has been pretty lame so far. I'm in middle school and I shouldn't expect a "love life," but everybody in my grade has one which makes me feel pretty left out. I feel like the girl who spins the spinner in Wheel of Fortune and never gets to say anything. The only thing I have on the girls in my grade is having gone on a movie "date" in October with the boy from the Washington D.C. post. Otherwise, a good deal of them have had slow danced in the cafeteria during dances and have had their first kisses too. Which makes me feel like a prude.
After a mortifying event that took place in seventh grade, I've been 100% scared to have anything to do with boys and liking them again. According to my nice friend Adam, any boy I like would like me back if I flirted with them. I don't really want a boyfriend, but Jos and Tyty have ones, so in a way it makes me desperate to have one. And to get one, I have to flirt. Which means it's never gonna happen.
In middle school, having a boyfriend is like having a V.I.P. pass to getting noticed. Suddenly all the upperclassmen want to be your bestie and the other boys pay more attention to you. The dude may not even genuinely like you! (Except not in Jos and Tyty's cases). It's just lame. And I don't want to take part. I rather be the girl who spins the Wheel of Fortune spinner. And besides, she gets to wear a dress while everybody else has to wear ugly khakis.
The problem is the flirting part. It's impossible! You have to look all cute and googlely-eyed and perfect and and be all mysterious and play hard to get. WTFN?? I don't get how the other girls do it! If I ever meet a boy I like, I want him to like me for who I am, and not for my googlely-eyed-ness. So now you're probably thinking, "Jen, just be yourself," because I can't do that either. When I'm nervous, Jen seems like a person I've never met before.
What about you guys? Are you expert flirters? Do you think dating in middle school is stupid? Do you have any tips you want to share?
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Frankie and I have been Jackson-fans for 3 years now when a boy in my 5th grade class told me to read them. At first I was all like, "monsters? Greek dudes? EWWW!" and then I was all like, "OMZ!!"
So of course I was mega-watt excited for the movie. There I was, seventh-grade, P.B. (pre-blog) me, getting all pumped up for the movie... and then BAM! The credits closed on a CRAPPY CRAPPY movie! They got all the facts wrong! It's wasn't Percy Jackson, it was Disney trying to be all adult and appeal to an older audience!
REASONS WHY THE MOVIE ADAPTION OF PERCY JACKSON SUCKED:
- Annabeth is BLOND! Not brunette! It's not that hard to mess up!
- Grover is a loser. He's not a ripped babe magnet!
- Percy is 12 when the series start! Not an attractive 20-something playing a high schooler!
- They never go to Tennessee!
- Half-Blood Hill is a hill!
- Percy doesn't find out his dad is Posideon when he gets to camp, he finds out... I actually can't remember but I know Chiron didn't tell him.
- What happened to the whole falling-off-the-St.-Louis-Arch scene??
I realized something yesterday. I realized that I never really explained the Purple Pants (yes, they are a proper noun here) on the Purple Pants blog. There's not even a photo of them! I wore them yesterday for the first time this winter and took some pictures. (This isn't an outfit I think is stylin', I just wanted to show of the Pants)
jacket-old navy 2 years ago
Purple Pants- forever 21
p.s. new post on the flashcards, follow us because we're EPIC!!
Monday, January 3, 2011
My horoscope said something crazy like, "because Neptune moved closer to Venus..." bla bla bla, "... the universe is on your side today. Ask for something and you will get your way."
So that morning I tried it out. "Mom, can you make me a bagel extra toasted with cream cheese?"
Her response was, "No, Jen, you're almost in high school now, you have to make your own bagels!" So I had to make my own bagel extra toasted with cream cheese.
Frankie was in dire need of a new mattress, so the four of us went on an expedition to find him one, like on a bonding experience or something. We went to Sleepy's and Frankie rolled around on all the mattresses and went nuts like he was in Chuck E Cheese's or something. I, on the other hand, have always been cautious around mattress stores ever since I read that chapter of The Lightning Theif when Percy, Annabeth and Grover are in L.A. and they need a place to hide because Percy accidentally uncapped his magical pen/sword and scared a couple thugs so they ran after them, and the three of them hide in a mattress store and the mattress sales man turns out to be a Greek monster who wants to tie them all to the beds and stretch them out so they're precisely 6 feet long and Percy tricks the monster into lying on one of the beds and then cuts off the monster's head using his magical pen/sword. WHEW now that's what you call a run-on.
In Raymour and Flanigan I had an idea to test out my horoscope again: I have been thinking lately about wanting to repaint my room, because the pastel green has been looking, how do you say, a little juvenile to me. So I go up to my mom and I ask, "Mom, can we repaint my room?"
Her response startled me. "Of course we can!" she said. "What color are you thinking of?"
My mouth hung open. She agreed! And she hates the smell of paint!
So we're going to repaint my room Aura Colorado Gray like this:
Saturday, January 1, 2011
I also don't really see why people don't like to make New Year's resolutions. I agree that you can become a new person whenever you want, but a new year always seems to me like the right time to do so. You can start fresh! A new you! OMZ!*
JEN'S NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS:
- Stop using the "f" word (fat).
- Work harder in Algebra.
- Be nicer to my parents.
- Carpe Diem.
And because January always feels like a New Age-y sort of month to me, we're going to do something really different on this blog for the month: every morning I'm going to check my horoscope and see if it comes true or not. I don't really believe in horoscopes, but in Latin a couple weeks ago my teacher was talking about them I got interested. The Romans believed in horoscopes, so for this month, I will too.
For the actual horoscopes I'm using the iGoogle widget thing where you put in your birth date and they make you a personalized one. I tried other websites but all they were were a bunch of ads for the "Number 1 Tip to get a Flat Stomach," and every horoscope said I would have an "amorous adventure."
The Great PROPHECYYYYYYY!
Maybe this time next month, I'll be just like her. Join me in this operation if you want to! The more the merrier! We can all be Professor Trelawney copy-cats!
* Oh my Zeus. Instead of using God's name in vain, I'll use his.
p.s. my band's blog!!!