So. I shall write about visiting elementary schools today. being an officer, you get to go with the counselors to elementary schools to tell them how awesome jr high is. When I told my dad we would be doing this, he said, "Good luck making them believe you."
Jr. High is fun for a while, but after the first semester, the teachers expect you to work. And learn. And PAY ATTENTION. And not sleep in class.
So today I went to my old elementary, Holbrook. And it was a blast! I went with Ethan, Ster, and Jessica. And we told all the kidlings that Jr high was fun, and we got to tell them the Mr. Chandler story. The bus one.
if you haven't heard of the bus story, get ready for excitement! So, Mr Chandler (shop teacher) was driving in by Blockbuster the other week. And he sees this bus rolling away with no one in it, so somehow he manages to get on the bus and park it in the Smith's parking lot UNHURT! I know. Freaking amazing. When Camille told us this, she called him Super Grover.
Sorry, I get distracted. So anyway, we tell the kids that it's fun and I accidentally hit Jessie in the head with my elbow. And them Jessie told them that they all had to keep their cell phones turned off in their locker and more than half of the freaking class had phones. I didn't get mine until eighth grade!!!! kids these days...
and then we missed two classes and Mrs. Schafer bought us bagels. And it was joy.
I can't think of what to write. lemme google this situation...
Google tells me that I should write about what I wonder about.
Okay, here goes.
I wonder where words go when you erase them.
I wonder how glass is made.
I wonder how some girls just don't get the hint that they post on Facebook way too much.
I wonder how I sound to other people.
I wonder if other people think that I'm as hilarious and I think I am.
I wonder if that sentence just made sense.
I wonder if I will ever be able to fly.
I wonder if my weird dreams will ever stop.
I wonder who I'll marry and what my kids will look like.
I wonder if the kinds of boys that are in romantic movies even exist.
I wonder who decided what romantic was. Or why they decided it.
I wonder what people I don't know think about me.
I wonder why other people judge everyone so much.
I wonder why I sing so well in the shower, but when I get out I don't sound as good.
I wonder why society worships celebrities.
I wonder if there are planets like ours, but in another galaxy.
I wonder if there is someone who looks exactly like me.
I wonder if the universe really does go on for forever.
I wonder if we really could go through mirrors, but our reflections just get in the way.
I wonder why we have deja vu?
I wonder why I hate green beans so much.
Now I'm supposed to write about my 'safe place" I'm just doing what the internet tells me.
My safe place is inside my head. Seriously. I can zone out and daydream at any time. It's an awesome talent of mine that I've perfected over the years. But I can imagine perfect scenarios, or weird ones, without anyone judging me or criticizing me. I can go anywhere or be anyone.
I know this is getting extremely long, but this is actually really good therapy. I love writing. Love it more than anything else (except maybe Harry Potter).
Okay, I'm doing one more idea that the internet tells me. I'm writing about a backwards world.
In a backwards world, girls ask the boys out and they pay for the dates.
Dogs take us on walks.
Boys cry in public.
Men are known for housework and women earn the money.
Pigs cut out our stomachs eat it, calling it bacon.
Cherries and Blackberries pick you.
Couches sit on you.
You stick your head out the car window while the dog drives.
Cats bark and dogs purr.
Mice chase cats.
Elephants can jump.
okay, I'm done. Time for Biology!!