Barking butterflies.

Today is the fated day of my senior seminar presentation, and I'm in a bit of a scramble.

The head of the writing department is out today for Passover. She said she'd try to make it, but she wasn't sure. The other writing teacher, her niece, says she's not coming. I have to find a video student to tape it for me. I think I need to talk to Mr. Blocker. Yeehaw. I think I'm probably most nervous about that. I mean, my presentation is gonna be fine. I just hope everything runs smoothly.

I title this entry barking butterflies because I've hardly eaten today, so my stomach is empty. But sometimes that makes me belch more. I also have tummy butterflies. So yeah. Barking butterflies. (Like barking spiders.)

A few entries ago I wrote about when I was in second grade and I threw up in class. I do remember something else about that story. I was supposed to go roller skating with the Girl Scouts that night. When my mom got me in the nurse's office, I was like, "I can go home and rest for seven hours!" (That's how long it was 'til I was supposed to go.) Still, like a good mother should, she didn't let me go. Instead, though, she got me crayola stamper markers, with which I was obsessed with at the time. Those markers were cool. Man I love crayola.

I also remember another story from second grade. I was the first student in the class to be the "star attraction", or have a week where I was like, first in line and whatnot. Well. I got to do a show and tell about some stuff I brought in, and when I was done, I asked, "Questions or compliments?" I think my teacher corrected me and said, "I think you mean questions or comments." Something like that. Still. What a Freudian slip from a seven year old, huh? I was an attention whore even back in the day.

I said I was going to try to do an entry on the seventh, but I didn't. I saw "Reign Over Me" that day with Abby. I was too sad to write when I got home. That movie kinda drained me. I mean, it was great, and I highly recommend seeing it, but... I cried. A lot. Also, like I said, the seventh was the anniversary of my grandmother's passing.

What can I say about my Gramma? She was amazing. When I was younger, my grandparents would come over on Thursday nights to visit. My Gramma always had cookies in her purse. They used to spoil us. She didn't like cooking, but I'll be damned if she didn't make the best damn food.

I'm gonna edit this entry later.

More later,
~*The Pie