I guess you call that paintin' in a cave.

Today was an odd day. I'm getting sick again (!@#$#$^#$&*@#$!!!.) *ahem*, and I guess when you're sick the days just feel really long and disjointed. My voice is hilarious - half the time it's alright, and then suddenly it just leaves completely and I sound ridiculously squeaky. And no amount of coughing can bring it back. Also, it has been insanely windy. But that has nothing to do with being sick.

I'm sitting here in my dad's sweater, and have just eaten an enormous meal of chicken-marsala which (wait for it...) I just made. By myself. I feel accomplished :)) I also feel accomplished because today was the blasted French test, and I think I did pretty well. I may have gotten a bit cocky off the high of the last test scores, but I AM expecting an A. Possibly a low A. But an A nonetheless. After class Mom and I went to Walmart (I don't care what people say, and I don't care if it makes me a cheap person. I like Walmart.) where I bought a few things for beautificational purposes (i.e., mascara, and mousse [which I leaned is NOT spelled 'moose'.]). I also bought a few one-color, non-exciting shirts that I can work in this weekend. Excited to go back to MHP. I can deal if I feel this sick... I just hope I don't get worse. Blah.

Today I stood in an elevator in the library with this old-man teacher, going from the 3rd floor to the 1st. I hate elevators, they already make me feel claustrophobic... I hate being in there with people even more. There's just this sort of understood idea to pretend the other person doesn't exist. Because I mean, what else are you going to do?

"So. You're riding the elevator."
"Yup. You too?"
"Yup."
*awkward silence*
"We're going to the same floor, I see."
"So we are!"
*awkward, longer silence.*

This entire conversation could be said in the glance you give each other when the other person enters the elevator, and in the simple words, "Down?" and "Yup.". There is a polite chuckle at the similarities of your directional preferences, and bingo. No more conversation is needed. It just makes it awkward when someone tries to spark one up. So please, world, go ahead and ignore your elevator-partner, and don't feel guilty about it. They prefer to be ignored just as much as you prefer to ignore.

Anyway... mom's coming home soon and hopefully she can give me a hair trim. I've liked the way it's looked recently, actually, but I don't want to be so high-maintenance at MHP. Or in Prague (though, that is still a ways off yet.). Then I'm going to sleep for a long long time. I will spend tomorrow with Ami, and at 5-something the parents will pick me up and we shall go see Jon's play. This is a happy thought.

My dog is sitting in the middle of the yard, facing the wind with squinty eyes and refusing to move. I don't know what's wrong with him...