Prop her up and dust her off...

It's a brand-new day and I'm fully refreshed and ready to rock. Kinda. Well, I'm fully functional. That works, I guess.

Yesterday was an interesting day. My english teacher (who I feel I must fall on my knees and worship one of these days because he is so nice) decided to have mercy on me and cut me some slack on a project that was due but that I had absolutely no time to do. In French, as you well know if you read my last post, I got nothing accomplished except the completion of another entry in here. In Drama, I found out that my mark is low because of a misunderstanding between my teacher and I. All in all, things ended up semi-okay. Kinda. In any case, by the time I got home I was ready to go back to bed.

Unfortunately, this was not an option. I wrote my novel until it was time for the (gasp! shudder!) Parent-Teacher Interviews. Since my mother had to go to an art opening downtown afterwards, I got to go too!

Now, there's something you have to understand about these openings. The point is to see and be seen. Emphasis on the 'be seen'. It's also a collection of all the 'other' people in Calgary. This means the (duh) artists. This means that everyone is dressed outrageously. And that, my dear readers, is my cup of tea. My mother's, too. So there we were, both dressed really wickedly (and we looked hot, if I do say so myself), in full all-out makeup (bleah but necessairy), including the black lipstick that changes my appearance drastically. Since the p-t interviews started first, we were there looking very... different... Lords, how we must have stuck out. Especially since I had been in my worst clothes and half-asleep and miserable all day.

Imagine my surprise when I saw him there. Apparently, his parents didn't forget about the interviews, after all. Sucks to be him, I guess. When I pointed him out to my (over-) curious mother, she said that he looked like a Hanson brother. Jeez. Can you imagine? Hanson brother... *shudder*. I also didn't get to talk to Monsieur Hanson because my mother made me sit and wait with her for all my teachers.

Anyways. Moving on to the show. Twas mah-va-lous! Simply mahvalous! I love events like that, because you're never overdressed. places like Art Central (where we were) and ACAD (Alberta College of Art and Design) are the only places in this stupid godforsaken province where I feel like I belong. My mother was awesome, too. We laughed and joked and had real 'bonding' time. Of course, for us this meant that we pretended that I was much older than I really am and I had to model all of her jewelry, but we still had fun.

This brings me to the reason for my title. Unfortunately, I must run: My mother's dumping me off at the shopping centre because she doesn't want to have to drive me later, when my movie is.

Tata!

MistWeaver