Of all the animals, the boy is the most unmanageable.

I've just remembered something from Thursday, the day we went to see "Master Harold" and the Boys that makes me kind of really mad. Mlle. Yasakova let it slip during a conversation that the reason she missed my birthday party was because she was on a date with someone she barely knew. He'd asked her the night before while I sent out my save-the-dates three weeks in advance. I wasn't paying attention, but now that I remember that part of the day, I am so incredibly miffed.

The Borders in O. is closing. I've had six years of memories with that store. Since my parents always take us to work with them, the bookstore was the only place to escape boredom. We would slip away every chance we got and hung out there reading books and magazines until it was time to go. And now they're closing it. Anchor Blue was closed a few days ago, but I am so much more bummed out about Borders closing. It's like a little piece of my childhood and memory taken from me. I wish things didn't change as much. I wish things would just stay the way they are, suspended in space and time, letting me come to terms with growing up at my own pace instead of taking things from me and forcing me to go faster.

On a happier note...when I was there today, I saw this little baby. Well, she wasn't technically a baby. She couldn't talk, so I'd say she was at most two. Anyways, I was reading, but every time I looked she was staring intensely at me. At first, I was like of surprised and taken back. Then I smiled at her. She just kept staring. I went back to my book, and when I looked back at her, she smiled at me. And then she gave me a little wave. Cutest little baby ever!

Here's another happy note...I talked to M. McElroy today! Eeek! That's terribly exciting. He called me and left me a voice message regarding my brother's piano lesson (oh, how boring. I wish it was about something else). I called back and got his mother. I talked to her, and she couldn't hear me very well and gave the phone to her son (thank God!). He wasn't very eloquent and he stumbled and um-ed a lot during our conversation regarding the time and place of my brother's performance, but he sounded very manly--something I heartily welcome after spending eight hours a day, five days a weeks in the company of immature, little boys. Anyways, we are coming over to their apartment tomorrow to take lessons, and hopefully I'll get to see him there, and, hopefully, he looks as good I as remember. There are few things better than gazing at an attractive male specimen.

Speaking of romantic interests, there's this guy that works for my parents. I don't really know his last name, so I'll just call him Monsieur X--since I am very fond of the painting Madame X, just saying. He's about 21 to 25, kind of nerdy looking--tall and thin and gawky, but it's cute that way. I never thought it would happen, but I developed a small crush on him last summer, when I practically lived at the shop. Well, it would have never worked out since we were from different world, and I very much prefer my world to his. Summer came and went, and I was no longer always at the shop. I met new people and surrounded myself with others who were superficially like me. Now that new variables were introduced, our old condition no longer applied. Our little world in the shop shattered, and my crush disappeared along with it.  The reason I mention him now is because I suspect the table's turned: he has a crush on me now. One can tell if one inspects closely enough, which I hope nobody is doing. It's a silly little crush, like my infatuation with him, and it'll be gone in no time.

Back to M. McElroy...nothing is going to happen with him either, I'm sure. It'll be highly inappropriate for him to be thinking of dating anyone while his mother is dying let alone one of her students.

Guess who bought another self-taught French book? MOI, bien sûr. That's probably already 90% of the French I know. Time to learn more.

For me being depressed means you can spend all day in bed, and still not get a good night’s rest.

I was feeling down for the first two periods at school today for no reason. Like, really down. So down it was not even funny, but I sucked it up and held it in like a big girl and went on my way. School went by like usual. I couldn't switch into Shakespeare and American Government AP like I wanted. Even though I don't know if I will like American Government CP, at least I will have it with Mlle. Johnston and still have Mme. Berman as a teacher. If I was in Shakespeare, I would be with Mlle. Smith, Jang, and Tran, but would be stuck in American Government AP with Mlle. Zhou and her obnoxious friends.

Mlle. Smith and Tran came over today to work on our scholarship packets. I love her very much, but I often wonder the extend to which Mlle. Smith can do for herself. She looked really pretty today with her hair slightly curled. Mine would never retain the curliness for the whole. I wish it would just hurry up and grow already.

Anyways, I called the cruise line company or whatever and got an estimation for our senior trip. If we were to go two to a room, it would be about $640ish including tips. However, if we were to do four to a room, then it would be $550 top. I'm super excited to go. To top that off, Mlle. Johnston's invited me to go with her and our dear friend Monsieur Steven to Six Flags this Saturday. I don't think I can go though, because I already took last Saturday off, plus I need to save money for all kind of stuff.

Anyways, I found this blog yesterday, and it is exactly what I need. She's an American writer living in Paris and writes about her experiences there. From what I've read so far, they are very detailed and interesting, filled with things people would usually consider banal or superfluous, but exactly what I need and want to know.

Je ne sais quoi

With the weather outside today, my hot vegetarian chicken noodle soup tastes so much better than usual. That, grilled cheese sandwiches, classical music, and painting totally made up for that crappy day that I had.

Sometimes I hate it when Mlle. Yasakova joins us for lunch. When she does, it just feels like I'm being left out. Maybe it's all in my head--I sure hope it's all in my head, but I feel annoyed when both Mlle. Smith and Velasco talk to her, and then there's me feeling kind of annoyed. Thank God Mlle. Jang was there to keep me company.

I have this insane fear of being replaced. I don't know why. I just have a fear that one day someone who remotely looks like me will try and steal all my friends by impersonating me, and no one will know because she'll wear my clothes, talk like me, and walk like me. That's why I make sure that I have a distinctive style that is not easily imitate, buy clothes are not standardized and easily bought somewhere else, have some articles of clothing handmade to make sure that only one copy exists in the whole entire world. I make sure that that things I do are of a wide variety of interests so that my existence is memorable and hard to imitate. It's a stupid fear, but I can kind of guess where it's coming from. If I was replaceable, it wouldn't matter if I existed or not, and I didn't just live for 18 years to find out that it wouldn't matter if I was there or wasn't there. And here I am again talking like a crazy person.

My mother's mad at my dad, so she took my car to work today, which means I didn't have a ride home when it was semi-drizzling. Of course, I sucked it up like a big girl and walked home.

I looked up YouTube videos on how to say basic French expressions since I'll be taking French next year for my foreign language requirement regardless of my mother's ill opinion of it. It is really hard, I have to admit, but thousands of others can do it, I can do it. If I don't have the talent for it, at least I have the perseverance and dedication. I find it easier to hear the pronunciation and know how to pronounce words first before looking at the text because French is not a phonetic language, so the words always trip me up. Especially the pronunciation for the letter "r". I can't get it right. Not even close.

Depersonalization is such an interesting disorder. I would get so freaked out if I had that because I would totally think my reflection is possessed. I totally would.