I also went to Perros Gyros

Yesterday, I found out just how boring my life is.

Kylie and I wanted to go somewhere yesterday. We weren't stuck at home for any reason, what with Kylie being able to drive/having a car, so we decided to go out. We sat, at our breakfast bar, her eating cookies and me sipping juice, trying to think of anywhere we could go. Not downtown, it was too expensive and too far. Not in Flossmoor, too expensive and too boring. This continued for at least half an hour. Finally, having exhausted all other options, we decided.

"Lincoln mall?" I asked, mostly to myself as we settled into car on the way out of the garage.
"Where else?" she said, her neck craned behind her so as not to run over the garbage cans she hadn't brought back to the house.
"Well," I said, hand extended under my chin to catch the crumbs from the Milanos I was eating, "At least it's got a bookstore."

After stopping at the bank, and taking the long way 'round, we arrived at the mall. We walked through its barren parking lot into Carson's, one of the few major retailers remaining in this ghost mall.

"Why are we here?" I asked, as we blazed through men's wear.
"No idea." Kylie answered mechanically, swserving suddenly to avoid crashing into a colonge display.

We emerged from the department store into the bustling atrium. All right, so it wasn't bustling, and the atrium is about the most pathetic mall you've ever seen. But still, it was light filled, and had it not been eleven-thirty on a Tuesday mornig, you might have heard excited shouts of children and witnessed frantic shoppers whizzing by....

We walked. Through the southwest wing, and nothing. Through the east wing, and nothing. Through the nothwest wing, and still nothing. It was time to go upstairs.
Finally, after covering the majority of the second level, we saw it.
"Look, Krissy, Bargain Books!"
"Finally!"
Our pace quickened, and soon, we were in the entry of the saddest, emptiest bookstores we had ever been inside. There were no shelves, only long, unorganized tables, labeled with signs that said "SELF-HELP", "HUMOR", "SPIRITUAL" and "NEW ARRIVALS: FICTION". This bookstore sucked. Until, that is, I saw the sign.
"Kylie!" I half-yelled, pointing at a children's easel with a poster propped against it.
"Art, photography, and literature, 50% off!" I read. "Where's the art, photography, and litereature sections?"

After some quick searching, we found it. A whole corner, right behind the stacks of "One Hundred Easy Wiccan Spells" and "The Christian Soldier" (both on the "SPIRITUAL" table), was devoted to art and literature. Some Doestevesky for $1.50, Best American Non-Required Reading for $2.00, and so on. All half off! We spent, easily, twenty or so minutes, thumbing through art books, and sorting through stacks of literature. Finally, hands full, we staggered to the checkout.

So there. Be sides the library booksale, that was my excitement for the week. And so, I have concluded that my life is, indeed, just as we all suspected, boring.

This is what I do before I go to bed every night.

I'm sitting here, listening to lovely Brazillian music, and thinking about what I shall do this week befor leaving for Maryland.

I'm going to make a movie with Aly.
I'm going to listen to lots of music that I got from the library.
I'm going to read at least three of my new old books that I bought today.
I'm going to watch Masterpiece Theatre.
I'm going to finish the scarf I half-knitted over Christmas.
I'm going to stop throwing up so I can eat Mexican/Asian food, which I am totally craving.
I'm going to make a lot of lists.
I'm going to sleep.

"Do you think I could get those spinny rims for the Pacifica, too?"-my mother

This past week I've felt a lot like an Expressionist artist. Stressed, dealing with illness, and er, living with the gruesome images of war frozen in my memory...

Alright, so I'm not feeling that much like an expressionist paper. And yes, for those that are wondering, my AP Euro paper is about post-WWI German art.

This weekend, whilst my mother and Kylie were in Michigan, our 1993 Dodge Minivan broke down. So, naturally, they drove a 2006 Lincoln Navigator home. For those not familiar with that way my family works, I will explain. This week, my grandfather tired of his Lincoln Aviator and pickup truck. He decided to replace them with a Navigator and a Cadillac Escalade Pickup. These are both comepletely ridiculous vehicles for my grandparents, as there are only two of them and they use their vehicles for hauling construction supplies and landscaping materials between their various properties. Now, my grandmother's Cadillac car doesn't fit in their garage, so they've decided to keep it at their lake house (less that five miles from their house) rather than get rid of it. So basically, they bought a bunch of frivolous and inefficient vehicles that they don't really need and don;t suit their purposes very well. But I digress. My mother and Kylie arrived in Michigan, after which our ancient van promptly broke down. This caused our family, who actually has a need for three cars, to run into problems, the most pressing being the means of return to Illinois. Since we would need a new car anyway, and my grandparents didn't really need the Cadillac, my mother suggested we buy it off of them. This greatly upset my grandmother, who couldn't possibly part with her car that she replaces with a newer one every two years anyway. After much consideration, my grandfather decided to have us take the Navigator, because he "needed" his Escalade pickup this week. So now, sitting in our driveway, is a massive, shining, fancy-pants, thing. The worst part of all, though, is that my mother loves it. Ugh. If she buys one to replace the van, I am so running away from home. Like, totally.

So that's my story for today. It's of frivolity and suburbia at its best, is it not?

All things must come to an end...

Well, it's my last day in the school library for gym class. The book fair has moved on, and the silver dome has disappeared just as mysteriously as it came. All that's left is a forgotton poster outside the library doors, advertising "Cool stuff" and "Hot picks". It's almost kind of sad, really. No, not the fact that the book fair is gone or that I never figured out what the dome was for, but the fact that without these ridiculous library-promotions, I have nothing to say. As silly as they were, they gave me an outlet for pent up sarcasm, something to scoff at. I need something to scoff at. I can't handle taking everything seriously and respecting it. I just don't have it in me.


Oh, book fair! For all of the cynicism I hurled in your direction, I really enjoyed the time we had together. You would stand, with your flashy merchandise and cardboard signs, drawing freshman lit. classes in with your promise of all things "cool", and I would sit, at the computer three feet away with legs crossed and eyes rolling, and watch. Book fair, I never really thought that I would miss you. In fact, at first I wished that you had never come. Now, though, that your mobile shelves and carts of useless trinkets have made their way to another south suburban library somewhere, I kind of miss your presence...

I suppose that's it. This marks the end of my library phase. Sure, I'll post again, but it just won't be the same. I will be at home, on my own time, and I won't get to feel like a badass for blogging instead of researching ice skating (as per my gym teacher's instructions). So with regards from the library, That is all.

Theatre kids are such attention whores...

Hmm. I suppose all thespians aren't that bad. I'm actually glad that I did G.I. (Group Interpretation) this year, finally. I was getting really sick of dreading my time spent with theatrical types. I enjoyed rehearsal today, even though we performed for the cast of Contest Play. I dislike performing for people I know. I feel stupid when I do. That being said, the performances for the school later this week should be really fun for me. Oh well, at least G.I. gets me out of class, right?

Ah, well enough theatre-talk. No one wants to hear about it anyway.What do you want to hear about, though? Do you prefer sarcasm-soaked encounters and events, or refelective-thought stuff? What is interesting to you? Should I even be asking that question?

No! No, I shouldn't! This is my blog! I am the author of it, it consists of my thoughts, whatever they may be. I don't have to listen to you, to give you what you want! I can write whatever I want, thanks. You can't influence me, or try to sway me with your comments! Ha! I laugh at comments! I don't need them. I don't need anyone's input or approval for anything! I am independant! Opinionated! I don't need you, you need me!

So, um, comment if want, guys...
...Please?

Really, I mean, you don't have to. As I expressed earlier, I in no way need your input or attention to fell satisfied with myself.

Seriously.

But if you wanted to comment or something, I can't exactly stop you...

Well, I could, but that would, er, be, um, hindering your right
to...er..express...your...individual...ity. Yes. Individuality. Which is totally what I'm all about.

Right, then. Comment if you wish.

Wouldn't it be nice if I were inetresting?

Yet again, I'm coming to you live from HF's school library! Yes, the book fair is still going, and yes, they still (remarkably) have troll pens left for purchase. I suggest,though, that you seize this opportunity while it lasts, because there's another class coming in right now, and I'm getting the feeling that trool pens are going to be a pretty hot commodity. All sarcasm aside, people really do like the troll pens. Seriously. I mean, at first I thought the idea of people wanting one was just funny, but appartantly Schoolastic knows what they're doing. Just yesterday in my AP Euro class, I overheard a girl saying "Hey you know that book fair, they've got those troll pens... I totally want one. Will you lend me money so I can get one?...Pleeeease, they're so cool!" So yeah. People actually want this stuff.

In other library news, there is a large, inflated dome behind the reference section. The dome is maybe fifteen feet across and ten feet high. It is silvery-gray, and does not seem to be serving any purpose. There is no indication nearby of what the dome may be there for, and no students or staff members have approached it since I've been here. Perhaps it is a side attraction of the bookfair, or possibly a new, advanced, referance media that allows the student to step insidew the inflatable dome, and experiance a 360-degree holographic projection featuring up-to-the-minute information from credible researchers worldwide, as well and audio and video clips that would greatly enhance a student's research. Probably not, though. But really, I've no idea what the "dome" is.