14. Toilet paper!!!!
Thursday, October 30, G & T
I don’t believe this.
They’ve done it again.
Hank and Lilly have disappeared AGAIN!
I didn’t even know about the Hank part until Lars got a call on his cell phone from my mother. She was very annoyed, because her mother had called her at the studio, screaming hysterically because Hank was missing from his hotel room. Mom wanted to know if Hank had shown up at school.
Which, to the best of my knowledge, he had not.
Then Lilly didn’t show up for lunch.
She wasn’t even very subtle about it, either. We were doing the Presidential Fitness exam in PE, and just as it was her turn to climb the rope, Lilly started complaining that she had cramps.
Since Lilly complains that she has cramps every single time the Presidential Fitness exam rolls around, I wasn’t suspicious. Mrs. Potts sent Lilly to the nurse’s office, and I figured I’d see her at lunch, miraculously recovered.
But then she didn’t show up for lunch. A consultation with the nurse revealed that Lilly’s cramps had been of such severity, she’d decided to go home for the rest of the day.
Cramps. I am so sure. Lilly doesn’t have cramps. What she has is the hots for my cousin!
The real question is, how long can we keep this from Boris? Remembering the Mahler we’d been subjected to yesterday, everyone is being careful not to remark how coincidental it is that Lilly is sick and Hank is missing in action at the same time. Nobody wants to have to resort to the gym mats again. Those things were heavy.
As a precaution, Michael is trying to keep Boris busy with a computer game he invented called Decapitate the Backstreet Boy. In it, you get to hurl knives and axes and stuff at members of the Backstreet Boys. The person who cuts the heads off the most Backstreet Boys moves up to another level, where he gets to cut off the heads of the boys in 98 Degrees, then ‘N Sync, etc. The player who cuts off the most heads gets to carve his initials on Ricky Martin’s naked chest.
I can’t believe Michael only got a B on this game in his computer class. But the teacher took points off because he felt it wasn’t violent enough for today’s market.
Mrs. Hill is letting us talk today. I know it’s because she doesn’t want to have to listen to Boris play Mahler, or worse, Wagner. I went up to Mrs. Hill after class yesterday and apologized for what I said on TV about her always being in the teachers’ lounge, even though it was the truth. She said not to worry about it. I’m pretty sure this is because my dad sent her a DVD player, along with a big bunch of flowers, the day after the interview was broadcast. She’s been a lot nicer to me since then.
You know, I find all of this stuff about Lilly and Hank very difficult to process. I mean, Lilly, of all people, turning out to be such a slave to lust. Because she can’t genuinely be in love with Hank. He’s a nice enough guy and all—and very good-looking—but let’s face it, his elevator does not go all the way up.
Lilly, on the other hand, belongs to Mensa—or at least she could if she didn’t think it hopelessly bourgeois. Plus Lilly isn’t exactly what you’d call a traditional beauty—I mean, I think she’s pretty, but according to today’s admittedly limited ideal of what “attractive” is, Lilly doesn’t really pass muster. She’s much shorter than me, and kind of chunky, and has that sort of squished-in face. Not really the type you’d expect a guy like Hank to fall for.
So what do a girl like Lilly and a guy like Hank have in common, anyway?
Oh, God, don’t answer that.
HOMEWORK
Algebra: pg. 123, problems 1–5, 7
English: in your journal, describe one day in your life; don’t forget profound moment
World Civ: answer questions at end of Chapter 10
G&T: bring one dollar on Monday for earplugs
French: une description d’une personne, trente mots minimum
Biology: Kenny says not to worry, he’ll do it for me
Thursday, October 30, 7 p.m., Limo back to the loft
Another huge shock. If my life continues along this roller-coaster course, I may have to seek professional counseling.
When I walked in for my princess lesson, there was Mamaw—Mamaw—sitting on one of Grandmère’s tiny pink couches, sipping tea.