Oh, the places you'll go.

Changed seats in science. It's not so bad, except I'm sitting next to Lavendar, which is as awkward as hell. I know she'll probably be reading this, since a few weeks ago she made a reference to my blog which really pissed me off because 1) she shouldn't be reading my blog. We're not friends. And 2) someone told her who I liked at the time, who I don't anymore. Like, seriously, what the fuck?

Anyway.

Here's the truth: I really just don't like her. Some people just don't get along, okay? I, being the cold heartless bitch that I am, do not like her. I suppose I'm encouraged by another friend of mine who also doesn't like her, but anyway...she keeps trying to talk to me, without realizes that if I actually gave a damn about restoring the friendship I would've apologized by now. Ringo did the same thing...kept trying to talk to me, to start conversations that would never end well. I'm not some secretive mystery; if I like you and want to be your friend, I'll try to talk to you. It doesn't seem that complex to me.

I remember a dream I had once, after The Fight, where I was overly nice to Lavendar and then worried like hell that she would buy too much into it and think I wanted to be her friend again. That was the entire dream.

Anyway. Again.

There's also Lori, some quiet semip girl who I don't really talk to but seems okay, and Lesil, who scares the shi-at outta me but is also pretty funny. And LuLu, who is kind of seperated but still spends the entire class bothering Lesil. LuLu is a guy, by the way. Not to be mistaken with Lolo (heavens no!)
Going to the mall with Share-Bear and Kim-Wim tomorrow! And on Saturday, the water park (sigh...) and then a sleepover with Kim-Wim and Silver-Wilver at Kim-Wims house where we will watch V for Vendetta which is epic. Hee!

Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villian by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. The only verdict is vengence; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it is my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V.

So epic. So, so epic.