Something I neglected to mention: R. posted on Facebook last night that there'd be a meeting for the people who want to busk to raise money for Disneyland. The meeting would be at lunch, conflicting with my Anatomy test study plans.
I thought I ought to track down N. before school to tell him I would have to miss our study session. I saw his car parked in its normal place, which meant that he must be there. Then I saw him walking briskly from the theatre building, cellphone to his ear. Next I looked, his car was gone.
What's up with that?
In choir, we discussed our Disneyland trip for a while. It has been confirmed: we are going over President's Day weekend, so we'll be gone Valentine's Day. Perfectly fine with me, seeing as that holiday holds absolutely no meaning for me.
After this, we started a new song. It's in German.
At one point during class, there was a loud thud, and everyone looked to see that E.'s backpack had leapt off the desk she had placed it on. About twenty minutes later, the scene repeated when my backpack, which had been on the desk next to hers, fell as well.
"We have a poltergeist," declared H., our director. She then told us about the strange sounds that used to come from the walls of that very room before they remodeled the building.
I already suspected that the band/orchestra practice rooms are probably haunted, and since the choir room is right next door, this gave me more reasons to argue such a hypothesis.
In Econ, Mr. S. was not there. We took our test and then watched a cheesy, corny video about supply and demand.
At the beginning of lunch, I took a detour through the theatre lobby to inform N. that I had to go to a choir thing and couldn't study with him. Then, I went to the choir room to find it locked. Backtracking, I sighted E. crossing the gym on her way to the teamroom and charged at her.
"Where did you just come from?" she asked.
"Originally from Econ, but I just went to the choir room and it's locked."
"What were you doing at the choir room...? Oh, that's right! We have a meeting. I forgot!"
By the time we had picked up E.'s lunch, the choir room was unlocked. Still, we were the first to arrive, followed shortly by J2. Only a small portion of the choir had signed up for busking, eight of us, to be exact, so when the rest arrived, we were able to sit in a circle amidst the desks. We broke into quartets and discussed a few possibilities for songs we could sing on the streets. Then the conversation veered into Cabaret, stage-falls, and eventually stage-kissing.
It was all very entertaining, but I would have rather been studying with the flashcards I had helped to create and now would not be getting any use out of.
In Spanish, we went to the computer lab again to work on that test. I finished the writing part, and started the speaking part, but I couldn't get very far.
"It's hard enough for me to answer those prompts in English," I complained to L. afterwards.
"I know! I've been trying voice acting recently, and I can barely do it with a script, in English! It takes so many tries to get it right. Though, really, my bloopers are the funniest parts."
I've chosen not to convey the reported contents of said bloopers, as I didn't mark this work as mature.
After Spanish, I was called to the office, where I received from the principal my letter of commendation from the National Merit Scholarship Program. It means I'm out of the running for the actual scholarship, but it still makes me feel smart and proud of myself.
There was a cluster waiting outside the door to Mr. M.'s classroom. Apparently we weren't allowed to go in yet.
The bell rang and the door opened, but it wasn't Mr. M. on the other side, but his wife, Mrs. M., who was subbing for him. She gave us directions and a test paper, and then we entered.
There were models of bones, each labeled with a number. We had twenty five seconds to identify each one before rotating, and then there was a second round to check for mistakes. I mixed up my order the first time, so the second time around was quite helpful. Once this was finished, we each took a bone to the counter, turned in our papers, and returned to our seats to await the next part of the test.
N. squinted at the notes that the previous occupant of his desk had penciled in on the surface. "I didn't write that," he said, "but I'll take it."
Mrs. M. handed out a grey sheet with a diagram of a skeleton upon it. We were to fill in the indicated bones. I think I got all of them.
Afterwards, we watched a History Channel documentary about the development of technology from the x-ray to the MRI, including the effect of such innovations on society, such as in the late Victorian Era, when ankles were thought to be indecent.
"Damn, those ankles!" N. remarked over the video's commentary.
When school was over, I stood with A. and another girl named L. to wait for the bus. At some point, a sophomore named G. wandered over and hijacked the conversation for a few minutes before pointing toward the end of the bus ramp.
"Look," he said innocently.
A. looked. By the time she looked back, G. was gone.
"I totally fell for that."