My students,

I suffer from clammy hands

iz sad

I would like to share with you two of my worst clammy hand moments

First Horrible Clammy Hands Experience 

I was in seventh grade and I was invited to my friend Hannah and her twin brother, Josh's joint Bat Mitzvah and Bar Mitzvah. Hannah was a classmate and close friend of mine from Boston All Girl's School, and sure, I was excited for her to become a responsible Jewish Adult, 

but,

I had a hopeless crush on her brother Josh and I was really just excited to be on the dancefloor near him. 

Shallow I know. 

Damn you, 12-year-old self

I mean, really. What happened to SISTERS before MISTERS? Sorry, Hannah. 

In true all girl's school fashion, ignoring the social norms of a boy always asking a girl to dance, (ok, I forgive you, 12-year-old self)  I went right up to Josh, The New Bar Mitzvah, and asked him to dance. 

HE SAID YES! 

what a success story

But no. There were many problems with the situation. This was my first dance, so I did not know where to place my hands, I was wearing one of those heinous dresses that had a sweater sewn on it, and I had (and still have) clammy hands. 

Amid my confusion and excitement, I placed my hands right smack dab on the tops of his two shoulders. 

hate muh lyfe

To my horror, when the song ended and he walked away, I noticed two damp spots on the shoulders of his sky blue button-up shirt where my clammy hands had rested just moments before. 

humiliation has no boundaries

Feeling a cool wetness on his upper arms, Josh probably reached to his shoulder and felt the moist, moist fabric and suddenly realized that his dance partner was a sweaty-handed beast. 

Second Horrible Clammy Hands Experience 

When I was younger, I took a figure drawing and painting art class. One time, after an intense half-hour long painting session, I rested my right on a spare piece of paper. To my immense shock, when I lifted my hand and looked down at the sheet of paper, my clammy hand had completely soaked through the fancy art paper.

Voldemort did this to me

My teacher noticed the soggy handprint that my perspiration had made on her precious and expensive art paper, and she made judgy eyes. 

As if it were MY FAULT that I allowed my hands to moisten the piece of paper 

The next day in art class, I spotted the same paper with a dried sweat stain on it. I decided that it would be better if I used the gimpy piece of paper than if some other some other student grabbed it, so I picked it up and brought it to my table. 

My teacher was apparently very proud of this noble decision and to my embarrassment, she loudly acknowledged me for the entire silent art class to hear.
This is what she said:

From my experiences, I have learned to protect others from the wrath that I bring upon innocent pieces of paper with my sweaty hands of doom.

Hasta Mañana!

Hey kiddos,


I really hate Sundays

today is my day to:

1. think about how much homework I have
2. not do any of it
3. think about how I have wasted my weekend
4. cry because it is already Sunday and the weekend is too gone for repair
5. think about exercising
6. NOT exercise; subsequently eat

Sh*t makes us crazy

Today, however, I was productive. With a friend, I began planning a road trip that we will be taking in the distant future.


Oh, the open road. I have always been mesmerized by the west coast; the sunsets, the majestic forests, the chillax people... righteous, amIright?

totally tubular

However, since I would rather re-do four years of pubescent middle school than drive all the way to California with the same person jabbering in the passenger seat, I had to rethink my dream road trip.


To strengthen my argument, Chris McCandless went West, and look how he ended up

dingbat 

Henceforthwith, I will be driving to Florida.

that's me on the left

Despite the fatness of Florida, I am very excited

So far, my road-tripping buddy and I began creating lists such as: Places to stop, Friends to Bring, Ground rules
and my favorite:


Things to Bring
Camera
GPS
Music (a billion cds)
Clothes that make the boys come to the yard


I have one personal goal for this trip: take a duck-face picture at every destination.
I really need to improve my duck face, it is pitiful.

the horror

Talk to you tomorrow on my second-least-favorite day of the week, Monday!

Howdy Partners,
It's the weekend! We made it!

My weekend did NOT start out with a bang. I had to wake up at ungodly 7 AM to take an SAT biology subject test. 

I don't know about you gals, but when I am taking a standardized test, I think it is my right as a human being to absolutely hate the test proctor's guts. 

Like, why do they even exist? 

I uses  #1 pencils, wanna FIGHT?

Here's a couple of ways to really FREAK OUT the proctor who gives you the test.

#1.

When your proctor says, "look up when you are done filling out your name and address" in his whiny and universally monotonous excuse of a voice 

Throw 'em the face!

and for the sake of all things holy, just sit there

I'll multiple choice your mother

#2.

During the middle of the test, if you realize that you are going to do HORRIBLY either because:

A. You did not study

B. You suddenly have a horrible stomach flu

or

C. You are in protest of the SAT and its importance to the college process

Then stand up, throw your test booklet, answer sheet, and all of your pencils on the ground, point to the test proctor and all of the other test-takers, and scream, 

Get out!!!! I am Columbus and you are my indians!

proceed to run around the room twice while sounding your best war cry

 Hipsterbob Squarepants says taking tests is so mainstream

Anyways, I hope you goofy goobers had a wonderful Saturday

Hey soul sisters,

In Boston All Girl's School, we celebrated the Chinese New Year. 

At lunch I enjoyed chicken stir fry, rice, a spring roll, and a wonderful side salad. The Chinese Lion graciously donated the lettuce. 

with garlic caesar dressing and a hint of wood

My fortune stated,  "A different world cannot be built by indifferent people"

Thanks, Sir Point-Out-The-Obvious-A-Lot

Tonight, we had our first Things You Should Know (TYSK) class with the Burlington Mound boys. 

*Remember, I have been going to an all girl's school for eight years and have never taken a class with boys before. 

I went about my school day very normally, often forgetting that I was going to encounter the XY during the evening.  

Do you know that feeling when you are drifting off to sleep and you are suddenly jolted awake? 

I experienced this stomach-drop today when I remembered the ensuing fate of a multi-gender encounter

Yes fear

You see, when I am around boys my age, I find that everything they say is hilarious.

HAHAHAHA! you spoke

Awk moment of the evening: instead of saying, "they've worked on several projects together and will occasionally study together," Lucy said, "they've worked on several projects together and will occasionally slutty together" 

little kitty feels ashamed

Besides my nervous and obsessive laughter, I came home feeling confident that I had left a good impression with the boys. 

Until I looked in the mirror

forgot to pluck my eyebrows!

Hiya homework-haters!

This is my new blog! Here, I will be posting about my day as a student in Boston All Girl'

s School. 

Things that happened today:

#1

Ever wonder what "eye broccoli means"? Sally enlightened me today. 

Think the opposite of "eye candy" 

Example:

Erika: "who's the eye broccoli?" 

Sally: "that's the new teacher."

Yuck! 

#2 

I noticed that Beth-Anne wrinkled her nose as she walked into the Senior Homeroom this afternoon. I exclaimed, "It smells like farts in here!"

she nodded and agreed. 

it was me

#3 

At Boston All Girl's School, every wednesday at lunch we play a song on the cafeteria loud speakers. As I professed my love for Katy Perry while I listened to"Teenage Dream," Lucy asked me if I was sad about Katy's recent split with Russell Brand. 

No, Lucy. I am not sad.

More for me!
#girlcrush#allgirlsschoolproblems

#4 

Y'all brownielavas, I am nervous to meet the boys from Burlington-Mound (our brother school) tomorrow. After eight years, I have to interact with boys in a learning environment? 

Say it ain't so. 

Guess that means I will have to shave my armpits in the morning

I might not.