Spamalot freaking ruled. I was so exhausted when I got home that I just couldn't blog. And that's saying a lot. I honestly laughed so hard that my stomach muscles were sore the next day. But that probably had something to do with the fact that I was sitting next to Sarah. She absolutely cracks me up.

So my aunt died yesterday afternoon. I didn't really know her that well; she lived in Denver. I spent a day with her summer before last, but that was the first time I had seen her since I was eight. She was really cool, though. Her name was Fran. She looked just like my mother. My mom used to be pretty close with her, when she was younger, but she hasn't seemed too upset by it. I feel sort of bad for not feeling bad. You know?

But, hey, I've got my first respectable speech meet tomorrow. I say first "respectable" one because I've been to two this season already, but I didn't have my speech memorized for either. Now, though, I'm (mostly) memorized, and I'm ready to kick some ass and take some names. I get super competitive. But I'm lazy, so all that comes of my competitive spirit is a lot of bruised bottoms.

I posted the first draft of my speech on my Xanga about a month back. I've changed it a lot since then. If I break into finals tomorrow, I'll post my most recent draft. It's be cool. Like a little insight into my non-blogging life.

I forgot a few teachers the other day.

Mr. Anderson: Junior year American History teacher. Fun guy. Really like him. He's short and paunchy with a laurel wreath of whitish-gray hair and a fuzzy little beard, and when he doesn't have anything to say, he sucks his funny little lips in so that his whole face is nothing but whitish-gray fuzzy. Definitely never crushed.

Mr. Hoefler: This year's (senior year) U.S. Government teacher. Looks like Rodney Dangerfield. Sort of oddly attractive, but I never had a crush.

Mr. Freischlag: My freshman year was the first or second year that my high school used block scheduling, so they didn't quite have a feel for it. My sophomore year, they announced that the honors students in my class would have to take an extra math class in order to get all the curriculum in, so there would have to be a year at some point in our respective high school careers where we took two math classes. Almost everyone opted to do it sophomore year and get it over with. I didn't. I did it junior year, and so did six other people. So Mr. Freischlag volunteered to teach the seven of us Honors Algebra II. He didn't do shit. He sat at his desk reading sports articles on the internets and fucking *informed* us of what unit we were on. He was really short and hugely, massively muscular. He told us once what the measurement of his shoulders was, but I can't remember now. Looked a little like Jason Alexander, but more jock-y. Kind of a jackass. Never crushed.

I think I covered everyone.

posted at 6:50 PM by Alison

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