Remember

I got my I-Search paper back on Wednesday. I got a 93% on it, and my teacher wrote a really nice note on it, so I'm feeling pretty good about that. When I went to the reunion for my elementary school last night, I said "Hi" to my third and fourth grade teacher. It took her a second to figure out who I was, but then she reminded me of just how disorganized I was (and, er, still am) and said "But you were always such a good writer. Are you on yearbook or something now?" and I told her about NaNoWriMo. When people who don't have to say that I'm awesome say that they like my writing, it makes it much easier to write a novel in a week. I also told my elementary school art teacher about Art School plans.
Yesterday was pretty great. I got out of school (a little late, because I had only written two of the three paragraphs I needed to write on my French final when school was over) and went to a quizbowler's house for what was billed to be an end of the year party. We had pizza and watched some soccer, but it was pretty awkward and boring. Also, his house has the exact same floorplan as my aunt's house. Weird. To avoid playing monopoly, some of us decided to leave. I think the origional plan was to go to Target. We went to the mall because someone needed to look for shoes, and then we spent some time in the Apple store. Then we went someplace else where people actually did buy shoes, and where I contemplated interpersonal relationships. Then we went to see toy story. It was awesome. The monkey scared the shit out of me and the strawberry bear started out as friendly black optimistic advice and turned into like, crazy mafia/Voldemort dude. Rex is my favourite character, btw. And then we went to Target. I love Target. It feels like happiness and perfection is something you can buy, which basically transports us to 1950's consumer perfection. Sometimes, I feel like I should live in the 1950's. And have boomerang formica countertops with steel cabinents. Is that weird?