On the Very First Day of the Newest Semester. . .

. . .The human race encountered a deadly threat to its very existence. It came, as such threats often will, from the most innocent and unlikely of places.

SCHOOL.

*dramatic jazz music*

Kat: Well well well. Here we are again, aren't we.

Max: C'est verite.

Kat: Why are you speaking French?

Max: Why not?

Kat: Good question. So. Whatsup? First day of school, right. First order of business?

Gabe: First order of business is being a freshman sucks.

Kat: Ah, yes, being a freshman sucks, thank you Gabe.

Max: FreshPERSON.

Kat: Fine. Freshperson. But it sucks, whatever it is. I feel new in a school I've been at for the past eleven years. Uncomfortable outside my own skin.

Gabe: Something tells me you mean inside.

Kat: I think I creeped out my new English teacher.

Julian: How?

Kat: I told him my favorite books were Lolita, Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, and anything at all about Sherlock Holmes. Oh, and V for Vendetta.

Gabe: Something tells me what freaked him out is Lolita.

Kat: Yeah, well. It's a good book.

Where are you riding, Dolores Haze?
What make is the magic carpet?
Is a cream cougar the present craze?
And where are you parked, my car pet?

My car is limping, Dolores Haze
And the last long lap is the hardest
And I shall be dumped where the weed decays
And the rest is rust and stardust.

Nabokov. Good old Vladimir N. You can't beat it, to paraphrase Mr. Holmes. Well, unfortunately I cannot be the medical student of yore, hanging out in the laboratory trying to figure out how to make a reaction precipitated only by hemoglobin and beating corpses with sticks to creep out Stamford, so I must languish here at Buckley in the excrement of a thousand past years.

The difficulty of the whole matter is simply this: I have met my own personal Irene Adler. The Woman, or in my case, the man. And it's not that I feel anything akin to love for him/her, to paraphrase Watson, but damnit. I. Cannot. Stand. Them. Thinking. They. Are. Smarter. Than. Me. Because I know that this is not true.

Little Shop auditions are soon. Huzzah!

I should get out of this school. You can just be sitting there and you start to wish you were dead.

You know something? You know how at the end of Catcher in the Rye Holden talks about how he misses everyone? Because he tells about things? So never tell anyone anything, or you'll start to miss everyone? That's kind of how I feel. I've written so much about everyone that I've met and known in the past few years that now I would miss them if they were gone, but they're not gone, so I don't miss them, and not missing them is worse than missing them, if you see what I mean, because this way you can't just forget about them.

Quote of the Day

"I enjoy wrestling trained guard dogs. It is a refreshingly uncomplicated pastime."

- Sherlock Holmes

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K.H.