MistWeaver: Guess what?
*A whole bunch of little brightly-coloured animated stuffed animals appear from the mist*
Stuffed Things: What?
MistWeaver: THE GODFORSAKEN WIRELESS CARD ON MY LApTOp BROKE SO IM BACK ON THIS ...
*computer whirrs ominously*
Err...
*glaces around nervously*
Lovely... machine... Now where did all you little twerps come from?
Little Blue Duckling: Why, the land of annoying small creatures, of course.
MistWeaver: Lovely. Now return, please.
*Stuffed animals fade slowly into mist while grinning happily and waving*
MW: Woo, thank the Goddess. Irritating beings... Now where was I? Oh, yeah. On a rant about (*#$@ pieces of crap they call computer accessories.
Voice In The Mist: Er... why don't you back up a little so that we know where you're coming from?
MW: Ah, yes. Good idea. This is why I keep you around.
VITM: I shall studiously ignore that comment. You can't get rid of me anyway.
MW: Hmph. Well, it's Monday today. Last time I wrote was Saturday.
VITM: I said "Take us back", not "Treat us like we're stupid".
MW: Why, aren't we testy today? In any case, I'll continue regardless of your comments. Saturday night was indeed Micheline's art show. For charity. And guess who didn't go?
VITM: What? Why not? I thought you promised Ryan...
MW: I know. I did. But Mama didn't want to drive anywhere, and you know how parents are when they get old... They get stubborn.
Note: please don't kill me, mother darling. Er, you neither, all others of motherly age... No... Don't look at me like that... Yes... Well, I'll just continue on, shall I?
VITM: How did Ryan take it? I can imagine he wasn't too pleased.
MW: Well, Mama said that he would understand. And that he had to, because he most likely didn't want to be there, either. She also promised to take us out to the next Art Central opening.
VITM: Art Central? That place you went all those months ago in the middle of NaNoWriMo on parent teacher interview night?
MW: Woah, your memory's better than mine. But yeah, that's right.
VITM: Sounds cool. Ryan'll probably like that. Speak of the devil, how did he take it?
MW: Quite well. Though he was on his way out to the show when I told him, so it's not like he had time to react badly. And he was interested in the ArtCentral thing. When I talked to him after he got home from the art thingie, he said that he had a good time. So my guilt is assuaged. He probably had other friends that went, anywho.
VITM: Yuh huh. Keep telling yourself that, MistWeaver.
MW: Shut up. I'm serious.
VITM: Whatever you say. So why didn't you talk to me while you were stuck at home?
MW: If you must know, I was looking for my copy of the Odyssey.
VITM: Didn't you have a test on it today or something?
MW: Yeah. I ended up reading it online and finishing it on the bus this morning. On the part we marked in class, I got 33/35. Not bad.
Okay, I have to pause for a minute. Insert a sudden change of subject here.
MW: Have you ever had word vomit? You know, where you say the stupidest/most embarassing things ever without being able to stop yourself?
VITM: Can't say that I have. Why, have you?
MW: Well... I had a really bad case of it the night after I got my iRiver (who remains nameless as of yet).
VITM: Do tell. I know your mind. This is gonna be hilarious.
MW: I know for a fact that many people I know read this daily. One or two in particular that I don't necessairily want knowing the things I almost said.
VITM: If I had eyes, I'd roll them. Why did you bring it up if you aren't gonna give the juicy details?
MW: I'll tell the story, and then you decide whether to bug me. How's that?
VITM: Fine. So, you were saying...
Yes, I was saying. Twas the night after I got my iRiver and all was kinda good. Uploading songs onto it on this computer while talking to people on my laptop. I was also on the search for a name for my iRiver. Which, incidentally, I still am.
Anyways, that day I had been walking with Blair down the hall at school. We were discussing the matter of which name to choose. We agreed that my iRiver was definitely male, and that ipods were female. Why? Because ipods are sleek, slim, sexy and silver-white, while iRivers (incidentally made by a completely different company) are more masculine, being black, more box-y, and hot. Sexy, but in a hot masculine way. We were thinking of sexy names. Guess what Blair threw out into the blue?
Yuh huh. You guessed it. "Ryan".
So long story made short, we were laughing about that for several reasons that I won't name. (Rereading this, I must clarify: Good reasons. Ryan's my friend and I wouldn't make fun of him behind his back). So I'm at home that evening, talking to Ryan on AIM about my iRiver, talking to Becs on the phone about her BLS, when what do I type?
VITM: Wait, let me guess. "We wanted to name my iRiver Ryan because it's a sexy name". Nah... not bad enough. "iRivers are sexy and so are you. Can we use your name?"
MW: You've got to be kidding. Excuse we while I kill myself laughing and then puke.
VITML: What, then?
MW: Shh. Let me continue.
All I did was mention that Blair and I thought of using his name and were laughing for a variety of reasons. Then, because I was STUpID and piqued his curiousity, he bugged me until I told him. Er, some things.
VITM: Oh, please. That's your big word vomit story?
MW: No, actually. That was only the beginning. I wasn't paying attention and nearly said some unbelievably stupid things, and only realized as I was pressing enter. Becs laughed at me when I told her. Can't blame her. I would of laughed at me too. Though I would have killed myself if I had actually sent ... *shudder*
VITM: Well? Aren't you goign to tell us what you mean by "stupid things"?
MW: Hell no! I'm going to move on and leave it at that.
VITM: Fine. Be that way. Tell us about the rest of your title, then.
MW: Oh, you mean the bitch fights?
VITM: Yeah. And I thought you were giving up swearing.
MW: I am. I refuse to give up the word 'bitch', though. I love that word.
VITM: You also love the F word.
MW: That's beside the point! The F word is worse than 'bitch'. I can't give them both up! Do you know how hard it is already? I keep hurting myself or something and swearing loudly with that F word you think I like so much, then swearing again with the S word when I realize that I swore, then clamping my hands over my mouth midword as I swear about swearing because I swore. AND I DONT EVEN DO IT ON pURpOSE!!!
VITM: This is why I hang around you. You crack me up. Now tell me about this bitch fight.
You see, in Drama our final play is coming up. And I hate it. I mean, I love the script but I hate the project. And even after I made my peace with the project a week or two ago, I didn't make my peace with a certain group member. Now this certain group member is... to say the least... bossy. And she's a perfectionist. And she wants this to be perfect. So she's appointed herself team captain and slave-driver. The problem is that she's not all that good. She yells at us for not knowing our lines, while she misses her cues and messes up hers. She wants the lights and props to be perfect, but her lighting sucks and she doesn't listen to our suggestiongs. The only one she listens to and doesn't constantly berate is Lex, who has been playing go-between for the two of us and is Sam's friend, so she can't mouth her off.
Ever since we got the option to ditch the play and do monologues instead, and Sam convinced everyone to continue with the play (though we had 4 days to finish it and we were completely unprepared), she and I have gotten along less and less. I have the biggest role in the play, being the Narrator. I also have the most lines by way far. I don't mind. I volunteered for the part. No one else wanted it. But it also means that I can't ditch the play on my own to do the monologue, because it wouldn't be fair. I know that we won't be that great when the show comes around on Thursday, and I know that if I did a monologue, my mark would be at least 10% higher. Normally, my solution would be to make the play the best I could, since I was stuck doing it and it's worth so much of our mark. But that wouldn't fit in with little miss "I must rule everything"'s plans. She doesn't listen to anyone else unless they prove beyond all doubt or it's utterly obvious that they're right.
Finally we came to a head during the last 15 minutes of class today. We wanted to make it look more like a schoolyard-snowball-fight-scene, and someone suggested we have those shovels that you use to move/push snow in the schoolyard when you're little(r). She complained that it was getting too complicated for long-suffering souls liek her to keep the prop list exactly down to the last snowball and jump rope. I suggested that she just write 'assorted snow toys' down so that she didn't have to worry about little details like that. But no. She drew herself up and lectured me on how it was important to make sure it was all perfect because we had to hand it in and it was worth marks and etc. etc.
I told her that I wasn't suggesting that it wasn't important, but that the little details about props that aren't important to the play can be generalized. She marched up to the teacher with her question and came back triumphant.
"We do have to hand this in! It's worth 50% of our mark! It's important!"
I kid you not. She hadn't heard a word I said. I started to explain that no one suggested that it wasn't, or that we didn't have to hand it in, only that--
She cut me off snippily. Not that I wasn't being snippy as well. The bitch pisses me off.
"You know Aya, some of us care about our marks. And some of us want to do well on this project."
"Some of us don't have a stick shoved so far up our ass you can see it everytime they open their mouths. Which in your case, is often," I retorted.
Voice In The Mist: Yowch.
Yeah. Yowch. She deserved it. She'd been reprimanding us all afternoon about how much we sucked, what wasn't good enough, or right, etc. On the other hand, she kept messing up the lights, refused to take our suggestions on better lighting, and missed half her cues. Can you spell H-Y-p-O-C-R-I-T-E?
At this point, Lexi broke it up and I talked with Blair calmly until class was over.
And that was the sum of my bitch fight. It was short and sweet. Does it take a bitch to know a bitch? Hell yeah. She brings out the worst in me. It shames me to say this, but the fact that she's petite, blonde, blue-eyed and has an irritating girly voice (not squeaky, jsut girly) probably helped grate on my nerves a little.
VITM: She doesn't sound too nice to me. I think you should have confronted her earlier. At the least it might have cleared the air a little, instead of all that nastiness building up.
MW: You know that I don't like confrontations unless they're necessary.
VITM: Don't tell me that you didn't enjoy insulting her like that and seeing the look on her face.
MW: Well... some stupid treacherous voice that sounded a lot like you told me that I not only liked it, I would have liked to see that pretty face of hers dissolve into tears so that she can feel how we've felt over the past month.
VITM: You would have felt terrible after if she did.
MW: Yeah. I know. It's a terrible thought. Can't help it though. That treacherous voice gets to me sometimes.
VITM: It always will.
MW: I know. But... did I go too far?
VITM: Do you always go around insulting people like that?
MV: No... I used to give lots of comebacks like that but I hated hurting people's feelings accidentally so I stopped. I also stopped listening to that voice...
VITM: Did it ever occur to you that that's why I'm here? And you know, that little voice doesn't always tell you bad things. Maybe it just tells you the truth. Like when it talks about possibilities that you refuse to even consider because you're i-n-s-e-c-u-r-e!
MW: Stop it! Shut up! How did a part of my head become so independant? I don't want to hear this!
VITM: I'll shut up. For now...
MistWeaver
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