I'm trying to convince my mother to at least purchase a menorah, for God's sake, because the least we can do is be politically correct for my Jewish friends' sakes. But no. She refuses to even call it a Hannukah Timber.

Mike had to come meet us at the place with his truck to load up the tree. Apparently, about 20 people wanted to buy that tree today, but we had already tagged it. We are the ungiving bastards who claim our Christmas tree a day early and refuse to give it to any other poor family who was willing to take it right then. Because we're evil like that.

Last year it took us well over an hour to set our tree up, because my grandfather insisted on putting it in the stand, which took a good half an hour. Then it turns out he messed it up, so we had to take it apart and do it ourself. Mike did it all under fifteen minutes. It takes all the sport out of it, if you ask me.

Then of course Mom invited him to stay to watch "Goldmember," so they're downstairs in the living room having a wine-derful time, sipping on gin, juice, and shrimp bisque.

My friend Lori who's a senior at Ben Franklin burned me like, five CDs tonight when I was hiding out at her house while my mother was at church: "Cats," "Les Miserables," "Rent," "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat," and Weezer. Ha. Such an amazing combination.

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Mock Trial was this morning, as the two of you may remember. I woke up at seven o-fucking-clock having a nightmare about the guy in ballet class yesterday.

So I lounged around until the absolute last minute, then I couldn't find my glasses. To make a long story short, I had to wear my very old glasses from like, fifth grade. I hate those glasses. Putting them on make me look a good five years younger. So needless to say, as I was being cross-examined as a potential murderer, I didn't appear too threatening. I'm such a lame-ass.

I was towering over the city at 10 o'clock this morning. Actually, I was in a building of twin towers connected by a skywalk. You could see it out the window of the conference room I was sitting in.

I was mentally preparing myself for death, even though it seems completely irrational in hindsight. But I am a completely irrational person at times, like at ungodly hours of the morning.

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I was unexpectedly unvited to a movie premiere last night, believe it or not. My dance teacher was the choreographer, since it was a musical. I arrived with Jessica and Kevin, and I saw like, ten people I knew from school.

It was hilarious. Jessica called me about ten minutes before seven.

JESSICA: "Lex! Put on a nice dress! You're going with me and Kev to the premiere tonight!"

ME: "........"

JESSICA: "Hello?"

ME: "Yeah, I'm here. Now, say what about this premiere?"

JESSICA: "Put on nice clothes. The limo will be in front of your house in about ten minutes."

ME: "LIMO?!? You got a motherfucking limousine?!?"

JESSICA: "Sure, why not?"

ME: "I don't know. Thanks for the heads up."

It was pretty fun, I guess. I recognized a lot of people. It was celebrity-dom at it's very least, but hey, how many of you guys have been to a movie premiere and had your pictures taken by the paparazzi as you got to walk down a red carpet?

*crickets chirp*

I thought so. You shut your ass up. You know, if I could hear you or whatever, so stop screaming into your monitor.

I dunno if I should say the name of the movie or not. Who knows. I think it's doing like "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" and spreading across the country by word of mouth, or something. So find out on your own. If you think you know, email me.

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Holy shit.

This "Cats" CD doesn't have my favorite song on it, "The Naming of the Cats." So it's more like the recitation of a poem than a song, but who's keeping score?

I guess I'll have to find it on Kazaa.

And I probably won't find it.

This is so depressing.

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Speaking of depressing, I just found out yesterday that my best friend is manic depressive and bipolar.

Again, not saying who. Not that I'm trying to be some sneaky bitch or anything, but I just don't want to warp your view of any of my friends. Besides, I don't think they wanted anybody to know.

But it kind of freaked me out, but explained a lot at the same time. She has these totally violent mood swings, where she'll punch holes in walls and stuff, and the next moment she'll be like, "Let's go see a movie!"

It's really screwed up.

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Mom and I are going shopping downtown tomorrow, which should be very eventful.

Usually, when we go downtown, we don't feel like braving the traffic, so we usually take a bus or a cab, which is always pretty fun, especially when the cabbie doesn't speak English, and can much less read the traffic signs. Sweet Jesus, talk about scaring me.

I plan to hit a bunch of vintage-y Bohemian stores, and then be a hypocrite and head over to Saks Fifth Avenue. Heh. If only the employees at Bella Bella could read this, they'd kill me and stop giving me a discount. Do you know how much that would suck?

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I'm still totally loving this picture.

Maybe it's just me, but I think it's hilarious that a sophomore at Ben Franklin High accidentally mispelled the word "eat." And the word "latkes" is just a plain kneeslapper.

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Mock Trial and Evil French Project are calling. I want to shoot my French teacher in the head. She's making us copy the whole entire fucking book, which is just a complete waste of paper.

Sometimes I think that she was adopted in Brazil, and she just appeared on someone's doorstep with a note attached to her bonnet:

"Please take care of my baby. Thanks, Lucifer."

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Giroir Quote du Jour: "For those of you who are lazy and can't sightread, you ought to rot and burn in hell!"

© alexa

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