I watched "The Breakfast Club" over and over. And over and over again. And I even took notes. Argh. What is the world coming to?

But you want to know the pathetic part- what I actually took notes on? Really? Okay, promise you won't laugh.

Costumes.

I said don't laugh, so shutup.

Me and The Posse (my friends) decided to go as the cast of The Breakfast Club to school today, since this week in Spirit Week at school and today (Monday) is indeed Celebrity Day.

I'm actually very amazed that Me And The Posse made a collective decision to dress up. We hardly agree on anything, especially if it involves ridicule by others, as "dressing up" unavoidably entails. But I actually did, instead of using my usual retort, "My school spirit is hidden in a box under my bed. Where's yours?"

And since The Posse is too lazy to get out of bed, comb their hair, and hitch a ride to the nearest Blockbuster, I got stuck with the dirty work. The dirty work being renting the movie and watching it a hundred times until my eyes got dried out and I got so dehydrated I thought I was going to hurl or die.

I had to write down every single miniscule detail about the costumes since The Posse is a very politically aware crew (read: Extremely Anal Retentive About Everything), I had to make sure everything was perfect in every way in case some quarter-wit showed up and said, "Hey, wasn't she wearing a grey scarf instead of a black one?" at which point I would growl, bear my teeth, and mutter obscene things about his mother, sending him running away in tears.

So I got it all right. Finally. And I, in case you were wondering, was dressed as the gothic/mentally unstable girl. You know, the one with the purse full of all the shit and who squeals very high-pitched under her breath. Oh yeah, and she flings ham at the statues in the library.

Really. It was too perfect. Me and The Posse (dressed as the goth, the prep, the jock, the brain, and the rebel, naturally) ate lunch in the library. And yes, I threw ham at things. I even made a sugar-and-corn-pops sandwich, which disgusted everyone as they watched me eat it. I promised the librarians I would clean up after myself.

They had been looking pretty nervous about what I was going to do. But after I said that, the relaxed and started laughing their asses off. Even a few stray teachers wandered in and took a trip down memory lane and dreamed of the heinous Early Eighties, which I'm thankful I don't remember much of.

A yearbook photographer came in right before lunch was over and took some pictures of us.

Needless to say, I felt pretty special. Woo. It helped me forget that I tripped on my feet going up the stairs about four times just in the morning because I was wearing Keds, something I never do. I have about the least amount of coordination than anyone I know. That makes it all the more surprising that I'm a dancer. What kind of sick, ironic joke is that?

I didn't even get thanked once for getting burned out on caffeine this weekend just to make the costumes perfect. I froze my butt off alone in my living room at thre in the morning taking notes on costumes, not even enjoying the sheer genius of the movie.

Thanks a ton, Posse.

After that I felt pretty crappy, so I started banging my head against desks and making high-pitched squealing noises. I only did this because I was tired, but I got egged on by everyone because they thought it was just sooo funny that I acted like that girl in "real life" (for lack of a better cliche).

Seriously. I have been wrapping pieces of hair around my finger until it turns grey and almost falls off for about three years now. I first saw the movie about a month ago. So there.

Booyah.

The whole wrapping-hair-around-my-finger thing doesn't go over well with the Instrutional Units. (Teachers.) They get unusually nervous when they see me pulling out my hair, and they know what I'm going to do. I wrap it around my finger and leave it there for at least ten minutes, in which it starts turning an array of interesting colors and begins to turn cold. It looks gross, like gangrenous or something. I find this very amusing, and start touching it to my nose or arm to compare the levels of body heat, and I giggle with glee. That's when the Instructional Units demand I remove it or they will write me up. I relent, like a good little conformist, but pull out more hair and just hide it in my desk.

Tomorrow is Nerd/Mismatch Day. I'm going as my Biology teacher on acid since he told me to stop with the hair thing today. Ah, revenge is the best dish served cold.

© alexa

The counter keeps breaking and pissing me off, so NO MORE COUNTER! Mwahaha!