Meg Dowell Writes

It happened. I took a total of seven different exams over the course of five school days, and at the end of my last one my brrain decided to stop working. I couldn’t remember my mom’s cell phone number. I forgot that small children between the ages of nine and nine and a half will constantly want you to play Twister with them if you’re home and don’t have anything else to do.

I forgot that I like Twister.

It was an extremely amazing feeling coming home and not having to calculate how many hours I could pull of procrastinating until I had to force myself to study. Let me tell you, it’s rather unpleasant shoving words and numbers and equations and such down your throat and expecting them to somehow absorb into your brain. All I have to say is, I will never speak fluent Spanish. EVER.

I spent several hours today playing Sonic Adventure DX with my fourth grade brother. I’m not going to lie; it’s a pretty rock-awesome game.  But overall, the best part are the Chao. They’re like little virtual pets, but cuter. I’m serious. You’ll grow attached to them faster than anything in the real world if you spend time with them. I highly recommend checking them out.

My phone has oficially started bettraying me. It’s slowly but truly dying on me, in simple terms. What I don’t fully understand is why it waited until after Christmas to start acting up. Both of my parents are now oficially in posession of iPhones, while I am stuck with a boring old silver Motorola Razr. I’ve had the same phone for going on three years, so I think that’s why it’s finally giving up on me. Well, at least we all live in a world now where you can’t really survive without a cell phone…seriously….like, as in it’s not safe. So that means I’ll have to get a new one ASAP if we can’t get my old one fixed. Oh darn.

So before I leave tomorrow at approximately 5:00 AM to head to the airport, I was given specific instructions by my feminine parental unit that my room should be clean. Actually, that’s not what she said. She said I HAVE to clean my room before we leave; among a long list of other tasks she feels is necessary I complete before we head to our destination, which is supposed to be hovering around sixty degrees when we arrive. *points and laughs at everyone who isn’t going to a warm place* I am so sorry for you!

I’m kidding.

For the first time in weeks, I’m not cold! This is like a dream come true; like a miracle, almost. It could be the layers and layers of clothing I threw on this morning, still groggy from my almost not restful sleep, but who knows. My mom could have suddenly become fed up with being cold and turned up the heat herself. That, or my dad could have heard the weather reports reguarding the dangerous cold and decided to turn the heat up a few more degrees. Either way, I’m not cold, and that makes me happy.

Do you know what else makes me happy? The fact that I have nothing to think about for the next four days. This is the one benefit of having semester finals after break (which I still think they should have beforehand, but I’m not an administrator of the district). Because, really, no one does homework or studies over break anyway. So it’s almost like a no-homework break. Except then you go back to school in January and have to re-learn everything your teachers taught you the entire first semester. And that’s not so hot. (Or, you could have a snow day for the first time in ever the day you would’ve gotten out for break, and then have one of your teachers give you a test the day you get back. That just made me sad.)

I really should clean my room.

There’s something wrong with my bedroom door. As in, it won’t stay closed. I keep on asking my dad to fix it (because, apparently, the hinges are crooked, or something odd like that), but he always gives me that “I’ll get to it” phrase and walks away. I asked him to work on it this weekend while I’m gone, but I don’t know if he’ll do tha either. Anyway, until he does something, I have to stick a folded-up piece of post-it note between the door and the frame to keep it closed. Every time you open it without taking the sticky note out first, it either falls out or goes flying. My brother opened my door once and got attacked. Attack of the killer pink sticky note! Ah!

At least now I know how to keep him out of my room.

So, about this jet that crashed into the Hudson River today…yeah, good thing everoyone survived, or I would start having second thoughts about being excited to wiggle my toes in soft sand by lunchtime tomorrow. Apparently the plane hit a flock of geese, so the engine exploded, or something. (Yes, I read the article, roar.) I feel more sorry for the geese, on account of the fact that everyone was rescued (everyone sruvived, as previously stated above). Everyone should watch where they’re flying.

In other news, I’m hungry. See you in Florida! (Or, maybe I won’t. But you might here from me. Maybe.)