Rimidalv! (that’s your name backwards)
Long time no post ... So how was your Halloween? Any events of particular insanity? Did you egg a house? Trick-or-treat? Kiss a girl (ha ha, you don’t have to tell me …) Pete and I went to a party as his friend Max’s house, Pete was a slickster senator and I was a toilet stall—we were so politically on-message—and my stall was excellent, graffiti-on-cardboard and massive amounts of toilet paper stuck to my shoe. We got a prize—one dozen caramel candy apples. The vote for worst costume went to Art Wechler, for his cumbersome invention that he called “Happy Hour.” Which was basically Art wearing a shirt made out of Ritz crackers and real, processed cheese, plus swizzle sticks and olives glues to various body parts. I brushed up against him and didn’t smell right for three days. But it was good times, I love Halloween. Didn't get much chance to talk to Dylan Easterby, though. Swarms and schools and hives of females chase him down wherever he is...
But Halloween is a distant memory, compared with what we're doing now-- trimester finals. We have them mid-Nov, end of Feb, and early June. Just to make sure that nobody is too psyched for Thanksgiving, Spring Break, or Summer vacation.
In other news, Dad’s sister, my Aunt Malin is staying with us this week thru Thanksgiving. She is an Old World hybrid who is also a fortune-teller slash herbalist slash troublemaker. First thing she did when she got here was throw peppercorns in the carpets “to blow out the ghosts” and we’ve all been sneezing our hearts out. She read my cards and told me: “forget all about the last four hundred years, Lexie, your heart-wrenching, hirsute, hoary love is just around the corner.” So I looked up hirsute and it means: HAIRY. Yich! I have decided not to go around any corners for the next few months.
Auntie Malin also taught me how to make short-term-memory-loss-pumpkin-pie. She's an herbalist, after all. You have to use real pumpkins, and brush them with Malin’s Madderberry Juice while they roast, then after 130 minutes, you open the oven and mutter the name of your intended victim. I took the pie into school and gave it to Mrs. Dowd, my chemistry teacher slash intended victim, who them totally forgot to give us her weekly quiz. How cool is that? Just when I'd lost faith in my own ability to be completely superstitous. Anyway, delete this incriminating email after reading …
What’s going on with you????
Fill me in on the deets.
Your bestest herbalist slash vampish pal, L.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Back from the (Un)dead
Hi, Lex!
Man, school has been crazy busy here (all six-hundred years of it—yeah, I totally feel that way too). Lots of pop quizzes, too, which only goes to show that even nice teachers like Mr. Craig can be sadistic when they want to. Speaking of Mr. C, he's been out sick for a few days now. I hope he comes back soon. Our rat-faced principal, Mr. Snelgrove, has been subbing for him.
Public speaking?! What are they, sick?! That's just twisted. As if we'll ever really HAVE to stand up in front of people and talk. I mean, my aunt is a nurse and you don't see her blabbering on in front of people. My sympathies, Lex. But I'm sure you'll do great.
Wait a sec. You're telling me you have the hots for some guy who smells like socks? Seriously? As in the things we wear on our feet to soak up all of our sweat and foot funk? Man…I will never understand girls.
Hey, at least you're brave enough to call Dylan. I can barely breathe when Meredith is around, and there's no way I'm going anywhere near a phone.
What are your plans for Halloween? This guy, Matthew, in my grade is having another Halloween bash this year. He's been hosting them since we were like six. They're okay, I guess. Mostly I just hang out with Henry and pretend I actually belong there. If I do go this year, I was thinking of going as a vampire. *snort* How rock do I??? But…I probably won't go. There's supposed to be a great line up of horror movies on TV that night…maybe I'll luck out and they'll show Nosferatu.
Anyway, sorry I'm such a lame pen pal. But I've been stuck in a grave…and its name is Algebra.
~V
Man, school has been crazy busy here (all six-hundred years of it—yeah, I totally feel that way too). Lots of pop quizzes, too, which only goes to show that even nice teachers like Mr. Craig can be sadistic when they want to. Speaking of Mr. C, he's been out sick for a few days now. I hope he comes back soon. Our rat-faced principal, Mr. Snelgrove, has been subbing for him.
Public speaking?! What are they, sick?! That's just twisted. As if we'll ever really HAVE to stand up in front of people and talk. I mean, my aunt is a nurse and you don't see her blabbering on in front of people. My sympathies, Lex. But I'm sure you'll do great.
Wait a sec. You're telling me you have the hots for some guy who smells like socks? Seriously? As in the things we wear on our feet to soak up all of our sweat and foot funk? Man…I will never understand girls.
Hey, at least you're brave enough to call Dylan. I can barely breathe when Meredith is around, and there's no way I'm going anywhere near a phone.
What are your plans for Halloween? This guy, Matthew, in my grade is having another Halloween bash this year. He's been hosting them since we were like six. They're okay, I guess. Mostly I just hang out with Henry and pretend I actually belong there. If I do go this year, I was thinking of going as a vampire. *snort* How rock do I??? But…I probably won't go. There's supposed to be a great line up of horror movies on TV that night…maybe I'll luck out and they'll show Nosferatu.
Anyway, sorry I'm such a lame pen pal. But I've been stuck in a grave…and its name is Algebra.
~V
Saturday, October 6, 2007
October? Already?
Greetings, Comrade Vlad--
Okay, doesn’t it seem like we’ve been in school for six hundred years? I am already in after-school tutorials for my most hated class—that would be, PUBLIC SPEAKING. Which my school has decided is mandatory for all eighth graders, so that we can go into high school knowing how to stand up and speak up.
But what about if you get those awful, cringing, involuntary voice-trembles? Then what? Seriously, Vlad, I am totally scared of the sound of my own voice. And it shows. Maybe it’s all those years in the Old World, where kids learned things like ‘Better to be Seen than Heard’ and ‘Don’t Speak Until You’re Spoken To.’ Kids here really aren’t like that, eh? More like, ‘Don’t Shut Up Until You’re Yelled At.’
Moving from my icky voice trembles onto my nonexistent love-life, I did the lamest, most idiotic thing when I was at my friend Pete’s house yesterday—I called Dylan Easterby. I know, I know. If you want to secede from my friendship, I would understand. And when Dylan himself answered, I just stood there on the phone-- "lonely as an oyster" as Charles Dickens would say. Then I hung up. But wait, it gets worse. Dylan’s MOM called back, and Pete’s MOM answered. Huge confusion. I denied everything. Why am I such an awkward dork? Um, don’t answer that.
I hope your year hasn't been as embarrassment-attacked, and Mrs. Bell’s aroma isn’t making you too nauseous. It’s funny you mention the aftershave, because I can identify almost anyone by smell. Must be one of those vestige-vamp traits. My nose is always exhausted by 3 PM. There’s one kid who smells inexplicably like hot dogs and wood chips. My lab partner, Jake Olatz, smells like old skim milk. Mina Pringle reeks like fake Chanel No. 5 that she sneaks out of her Mom’s bottle. Dylan Easterby smells like clean cotton socks.
Well, gotta fly …
Olfactorily yours,
L.
Okay, doesn’t it seem like we’ve been in school for six hundred years? I am already in after-school tutorials for my most hated class—that would be, PUBLIC SPEAKING. Which my school has decided is mandatory for all eighth graders, so that we can go into high school knowing how to stand up and speak up.
But what about if you get those awful, cringing, involuntary voice-trembles? Then what? Seriously, Vlad, I am totally scared of the sound of my own voice. And it shows. Maybe it’s all those years in the Old World, where kids learned things like ‘Better to be Seen than Heard’ and ‘Don’t Speak Until You’re Spoken To.’ Kids here really aren’t like that, eh? More like, ‘Don’t Shut Up Until You’re Yelled At.’
Moving from my icky voice trembles onto my nonexistent love-life, I did the lamest, most idiotic thing when I was at my friend Pete’s house yesterday—I called Dylan Easterby. I know, I know. If you want to secede from my friendship, I would understand. And when Dylan himself answered, I just stood there on the phone-- "lonely as an oyster" as Charles Dickens would say. Then I hung up. But wait, it gets worse. Dylan’s MOM called back, and Pete’s MOM answered. Huge confusion. I denied everything. Why am I such an awkward dork? Um, don’t answer that.
I hope your year hasn't been as embarrassment-attacked, and Mrs. Bell’s aroma isn’t making you too nauseous. It’s funny you mention the aftershave, because I can identify almost anyone by smell. Must be one of those vestige-vamp traits. My nose is always exhausted by 3 PM. There’s one kid who smells inexplicably like hot dogs and wood chips. My lab partner, Jake Olatz, smells like old skim milk. Mina Pringle reeks like fake Chanel No. 5 that she sneaks out of her Mom’s bottle. Dylan Easterby smells like clean cotton socks.
Well, gotta fly …
Olfactorily yours,
L.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Algebra & Aftershave
Hey, Lex!
Wow, your upgraded room sounds sweet! Well...for a girl (no offense). I can't handle any more than a poster or two. To be honest, I never understood the decorating craze. But I'm really glad you're happy with it! I almost, kinda managed to clean mine this week. Well...there are still a few stray socks lying around, but they add character (at least, that's what I told Nelly). And don't even look under my bed... *shudders*
Mrs. MacCaw sounds pretty bad--my sympathies. But I've got one to top it. Her name is Mrs. Bell (huh...what's with these teachers and bells?) and she's a sub at Bathory Junior High. No cowbell in the world could be as obnoxious as her painted-on eyebrows, Lex. And dude...she smells like aftershave. AFTERSHAVE. What's that tell you about her nightlife, eh? Disturbing. But luckily, we only had to deal with her one day this week, while Mr. Craig was out with a cold. I can't imagine what it would be like to see her more often. Of course, whenever she can't sub, the other option is Mr. Snelgrove (our principal). I swear, he looks just like a rat. Woe unto normal society if those two ever started dating.
Mina Pringle sounds like a brat. (What's with me saying "sounds like" so much in this email?) Sucks that you have to share air with her. I didn't realize until I went to class the first day that Meredith Brookstone is in my home-room (which is also my English class). She's really sweet. But Chelsea Whitaker sits right in front of me and I kinda hate her with a deep passion. Hey, don't forget to tell Pete I said hi!
Ha ha...I'm sure you'll ace European history! In fact, you have kinda an unfair advantage there... ;) Me, well, I may be failing math already. Yep. After just two weeks or so in school. It might have something to do with the fact that the title of "Algebra" should be changed to "nap time for Vlad". I never fail to stay awake in Biology--seems like the conversation always gets around to blood. What a big relief that lunch is right after that class.
Speaking of which, I've been wondering just a little lately if different blood types have different flavors...
More later, batty girl!
~V
Wow, your upgraded room sounds sweet! Well...for a girl (no offense). I can't handle any more than a poster or two. To be honest, I never understood the decorating craze. But I'm really glad you're happy with it! I almost, kinda managed to clean mine this week. Well...there are still a few stray socks lying around, but they add character (at least, that's what I told Nelly). And don't even look under my bed... *shudders*
Mrs. MacCaw sounds pretty bad--my sympathies. But I've got one to top it. Her name is Mrs. Bell (huh...what's with these teachers and bells?) and she's a sub at Bathory Junior High. No cowbell in the world could be as obnoxious as her painted-on eyebrows, Lex. And dude...she smells like aftershave. AFTERSHAVE. What's that tell you about her nightlife, eh? Disturbing. But luckily, we only had to deal with her one day this week, while Mr. Craig was out with a cold. I can't imagine what it would be like to see her more often. Of course, whenever she can't sub, the other option is Mr. Snelgrove (our principal). I swear, he looks just like a rat. Woe unto normal society if those two ever started dating.
Mina Pringle sounds like a brat. (What's with me saying "sounds like" so much in this email?) Sucks that you have to share air with her. I didn't realize until I went to class the first day that Meredith Brookstone is in my home-room (which is also my English class). She's really sweet. But Chelsea Whitaker sits right in front of me and I kinda hate her with a deep passion. Hey, don't forget to tell Pete I said hi!
Ha ha...I'm sure you'll ace European history! In fact, you have kinda an unfair advantage there... ;) Me, well, I may be failing math already. Yep. After just two weeks or so in school. It might have something to do with the fact that the title of "Algebra" should be changed to "nap time for Vlad". I never fail to stay awake in Biology--seems like the conversation always gets around to blood. What a big relief that lunch is right after that class.
Speaking of which, I've been wondering just a little lately if different blood types have different flavors...
More later, batty girl!
~V
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
School's In
VLAD!
Here it is, my long-awaited (or maybe not) Back to School Bonjour. In honor of my completion of the first day of the new school year—doesn’t it feel weird to be in eighth grade? Top of the Social Heap. Finally. Crazy.
This weekend, decided to redecorate my 1/2 of the room, and rocking a whole new look, with dozens of string darklights and string flowers. Pete and I got a major bargain on them at the Dollar Tree, now the whole ceiling (yeah, Maddy's side, too) is criss-crossed with daisies and sunflowers and blue and purple pinpoints of light ... you look up and it’s like something van Gogh might have imagined, when he wasn’t feeling totally, ear-removingly depressed. Mom got me a new comforter in a violet lilac pattern, and then I found this place on Elizabeth Street where you can customize your own scent for perfume or room spray ... soooo I brewed up this jasmine blend, and my room officially smells awesome, though Mads is supremely annoyed, since she prefers a more mildewy, rotting smell. Oh, well. SHe just has to take it.
Okay, enough with the Martha Stewart, girlie details, right? In other news, we all started school with no big hiccups. Hudson’s in fourth, Maddy’s in sixth, and luckily I am not in their building (P.S. 42), but instead all the way across town at Cathedral Middle, on 19th and Eight Ave, West Side, which means I don’t have to deal with being called in every time Mad gets in trouble for picking on other kids (she’s really short, and she’s got a massive Napoleonic complex to go along with it).
My teacher, Mrs. MacCaw, has absolutely no game, a horrifying case of bedhead, and will slap you a demerit quicker than you can say “more cowbell”—she’s got one, btw, and rings it whenever she feels that things are getting out of her control, which is 78% of the time. She has a serious sense of humor failure about pretty much everything.
On that, yeah yeah, I totally remember Mr. Craig, he proctored one of our debates, he’s a fun guy, really smart, too. You must be so relieved you’ve got him twice. Sucks about not seeing enough of Henry, though. I’m in three classes with Pete, including all-important biology, so we can partner up.
And my arch-nem, Mina Pringle, did not transfer to Wolcott School for (Spoiled, Entitled) Girls, as oh-so-greatly anticipated, but is right back here at Cathedral, sitting two rows ahead of me. I am all about maintaining the peace, but the girl has irked me since fourth grade. More on Mina to come, I am sure.
So far, European History is by far my favorite subject of all ; ). Next week, am giving an oral report on Plagues. Since my family survived three of them, I think I’ve got an edge …
Write me, VT!
Lexxx
Here it is, my long-awaited (or maybe not) Back to School Bonjour. In honor of my completion of the first day of the new school year—doesn’t it feel weird to be in eighth grade? Top of the Social Heap. Finally. Crazy.
This weekend, decided to redecorate my 1/2 of the room, and rocking a whole new look, with dozens of string darklights and string flowers. Pete and I got a major bargain on them at the Dollar Tree, now the whole ceiling (yeah, Maddy's side, too) is criss-crossed with daisies and sunflowers and blue and purple pinpoints of light ... you look up and it’s like something van Gogh might have imagined, when he wasn’t feeling totally, ear-removingly depressed. Mom got me a new comforter in a violet lilac pattern, and then I found this place on Elizabeth Street where you can customize your own scent for perfume or room spray ... soooo I brewed up this jasmine blend, and my room officially smells awesome, though Mads is supremely annoyed, since she prefers a more mildewy, rotting smell. Oh, well. SHe just has to take it.
Okay, enough with the Martha Stewart, girlie details, right? In other news, we all started school with no big hiccups. Hudson’s in fourth, Maddy’s in sixth, and luckily I am not in their building (P.S. 42), but instead all the way across town at Cathedral Middle, on 19th and Eight Ave, West Side, which means I don’t have to deal with being called in every time Mad gets in trouble for picking on other kids (she’s really short, and she’s got a massive Napoleonic complex to go along with it).
My teacher, Mrs. MacCaw, has absolutely no game, a horrifying case of bedhead, and will slap you a demerit quicker than you can say “more cowbell”—she’s got one, btw, and rings it whenever she feels that things are getting out of her control, which is 78% of the time. She has a serious sense of humor failure about pretty much everything.
On that, yeah yeah, I totally remember Mr. Craig, he proctored one of our debates, he’s a fun guy, really smart, too. You must be so relieved you’ve got him twice. Sucks about not seeing enough of Henry, though. I’m in three classes with Pete, including all-important biology, so we can partner up.
And my arch-nem, Mina Pringle, did not transfer to Wolcott School for (Spoiled, Entitled) Girls, as oh-so-greatly anticipated, but is right back here at Cathedral, sitting two rows ahead of me. I am all about maintaining the peace, but the girl has irked me since fourth grade. More on Mina to come, I am sure.
So far, European History is by far my favorite subject of all ; ). Next week, am giving an oral report on Plagues. Since my family survived three of them, I think I’ve got an edge …
Write me, VT!
Lexxx
Thursday, August 23, 2007
I'm So Sorry!
L~
Oh man, Lex, I am SO SORRY it's taken me this long to respond! Nelly's had me running around like crazy trying to get ready for school, and finally, here it is. I'm in the eighth grade! Which is pretty sweet, ruling the school and all. The coolest part is that my English and homeroom teacher is Mr. Craig, who was my English teacher last year. He's super fun and hardly ever gives us homework on Fridays. You saw him in DC, do you remember? Skinny guy, glasses? Anyway, he's a great teacher--one of the few people I can really connect with. The only part that sucks so far about my eighth grade year is that Henry's not in hardly any of my classes. But it's cool, we still get to hang out.
Henry knows my secret, by the way. Did I mention that? I kinda bit him once. Anyway...long story. Have you ever bitten anyone? Like a person? Or was it always small creatures?
Whoa. Your neighbors sound...interesting. Keep an eye on them, for sure. And Maddy sounds so cute. I can so picture her chomping on mosquitoes. :)
Anyway, I have to study for a human biology test tomorrow. Yeah...it sucks. But I swear I'll write back really soon and catch you up on everything. I've felt weirdly relaxed since we both owned up to what we are. What about you? When do you head back into the trenches of public education?
Stay in touch, cute stuff.
~V
Oh man, Lex, I am SO SORRY it's taken me this long to respond! Nelly's had me running around like crazy trying to get ready for school, and finally, here it is. I'm in the eighth grade! Which is pretty sweet, ruling the school and all. The coolest part is that my English and homeroom teacher is Mr. Craig, who was my English teacher last year. He's super fun and hardly ever gives us homework on Fridays. You saw him in DC, do you remember? Skinny guy, glasses? Anyway, he's a great teacher--one of the few people I can really connect with. The only part that sucks so far about my eighth grade year is that Henry's not in hardly any of my classes. But it's cool, we still get to hang out.
Henry knows my secret, by the way. Did I mention that? I kinda bit him once. Anyway...long story. Have you ever bitten anyone? Like a person? Or was it always small creatures?
Whoa. Your neighbors sound...interesting. Keep an eye on them, for sure. And Maddy sounds so cute. I can so picture her chomping on mosquitoes. :)
Anyway, I have to study for a human biology test tomorrow. Yeah...it sucks. But I swear I'll write back really soon and catch you up on everything. I've felt weirdly relaxed since we both owned up to what we are. What about you? When do you head back into the trenches of public education?
Stay in touch, cute stuff.
~V
Monday, August 13, 2007
Sketchy Neighbors
Verrry Interesting Vlad …
Now that you’ve got me pretty hooked on your own story, okay, here’s my confession. Yes, I was once a vampire, but now? ... not so much… Honestly, it’s complicated. We were infected (whole family, one fell swoop) more years ago than I’d care to count. We survived, but right from the first moment, we knew we were different. As in, we didn’t need as much plasma to sustain ourselves. Your garden variety little creatures (voles, rats, etc.) pretty much did the trick. That, and lots of fruit nectar. So we were never predators, really, but we were eternals. A few years ago, when we brokered a deal to become mortal and move to NYC, it wasn’t a huge big change, diet-wise—but the aging process is a relief. One year per year, not one year per century? Ah. I’m loving it.
Actually, my sister Maddy has a much harder time with the food issue. She’s always snacking on mosquitoes. We try to turn a blind eye, though it completely grosses me out.
I want to tell you more, but my fingers are backing off the keyboard. It’s a weird revelation, huh? – yours and mine.
In other news, yesterday I got my first glimpse of our brand-new, excessively creepy across-the-street neighbors. Who only come out at night. And are pale as two chopsticks. And who don’t use electric light. Their names are Nigel and Nicola von Krik. That’s all we know about them. Maddy's got out the binoculars every minute, spying away. Keep ya posted.
Talk later, Vlad. And thanks for your honesty.
xo L.
Now that you’ve got me pretty hooked on your own story, okay, here’s my confession. Yes, I was once a vampire, but now? ... not so much… Honestly, it’s complicated. We were infected (whole family, one fell swoop) more years ago than I’d care to count. We survived, but right from the first moment, we knew we were different. As in, we didn’t need as much plasma to sustain ourselves. Your garden variety little creatures (voles, rats, etc.) pretty much did the trick. That, and lots of fruit nectar. So we were never predators, really, but we were eternals. A few years ago, when we brokered a deal to become mortal and move to NYC, it wasn’t a huge big change, diet-wise—but the aging process is a relief. One year per year, not one year per century? Ah. I’m loving it.
Actually, my sister Maddy has a much harder time with the food issue. She’s always snacking on mosquitoes. We try to turn a blind eye, though it completely grosses me out.
I want to tell you more, but my fingers are backing off the keyboard. It’s a weird revelation, huh? – yours and mine.
In other news, yesterday I got my first glimpse of our brand-new, excessively creepy across-the-street neighbors. Who only come out at night. And are pale as two chopsticks. And who don’t use electric light. Their names are Nigel and Nicola von Krik. That’s all we know about them. Maddy's got out the binoculars every minute, spying away. Keep ya posted.
Talk later, Vlad. And thanks for your honesty.
xo L.
Monday, August 6, 2007
For Your Eyes Only!
Lex,
Wow. Oh, wow. You are like me. I'm not crazy for thinking it. And I just knew I couldn't be the only one left. It makes me wonder why you'd be freaked out by the idea that I might be a creature of the night and all, but wow. It's so cool!
Okay, I hate to sound like an idiot, but what does your "tentative state" entail? See, apart from my dad...I've never met anyone else like me. Another...vampire...that is. (That was so hard to say--I hope you don't feel weird about that word. I'm just trying to get comfortable saying it to you.)
As for your questions...
Do I sleep? Oh yeah. Especially in Algebra class.
Do I feed? Not as much as I'd like. I mean, I get by on donated blood Nelly steals from the hospital she works at (her being a nurse has its perks), but the thirst I feel is never really satisfied. But I don't think I could ever feed on a person. Well, I did kind of bite Henry when we were eight, but still...
You asked about things like "hybrid" and "pure states" and whether or not I know any others like us. The truth is, I really don't know anything about our kind. I mean, my dad was a vampire, but my mom was human. And we kept our heritage a secret. Up until you, I hadn't run into anyone else like us, and my dad never really talked about others...so I'm a little lost, a lot freaked out by all this, and pretty friggin' elated to learn this about you. Tell me more!
I love the irony of Pete's birthday song! You have a great sense of humor, Lex. Not much going on here. I stayed over at Henry's last night. He ate so many Cheetos he ended up puking in the aquarium. It was totally funny. But, maybe you had to be there. On a positive note, he said he won't have to feed the fish for the next few days...
More later! (I'm hungry)
~Vlad
Wow. Oh, wow. You are like me. I'm not crazy for thinking it. And I just knew I couldn't be the only one left. It makes me wonder why you'd be freaked out by the idea that I might be a creature of the night and all, but wow. It's so cool!
Okay, I hate to sound like an idiot, but what does your "tentative state" entail? See, apart from my dad...I've never met anyone else like me. Another...vampire...that is. (That was so hard to say--I hope you don't feel weird about that word. I'm just trying to get comfortable saying it to you.)
As for your questions...
Do I sleep? Oh yeah. Especially in Algebra class.
Do I feed? Not as much as I'd like. I mean, I get by on donated blood Nelly steals from the hospital she works at (her being a nurse has its perks), but the thirst I feel is never really satisfied. But I don't think I could ever feed on a person. Well, I did kind of bite Henry when we were eight, but still...
You asked about things like "hybrid" and "pure states" and whether or not I know any others like us. The truth is, I really don't know anything about our kind. I mean, my dad was a vampire, but my mom was human. And we kept our heritage a secret. Up until you, I hadn't run into anyone else like us, and my dad never really talked about others...so I'm a little lost, a lot freaked out by all this, and pretty friggin' elated to learn this about you. Tell me more!
I love the irony of Pete's birthday song! You have a great sense of humor, Lex. Not much going on here. I stayed over at Henry's last night. He ate so many Cheetos he ended up puking in the aquarium. It was totally funny. But, maybe you had to be there. On a positive note, he said he won't have to feed the fish for the next few days...
More later! (I'm hungry)
~Vlad
Monday, July 30, 2007
curious and curious-er
Okay, VT, here’s the thing …
We did move to the Big Apple for reasons other than its incredibly crispy and delicious, vegan-friendly logo. We (that is: Mom, Dad, Hud, Mad, and me) had to emigrate, if we wanted any chance of becoming more human-y-er (um, is that a word?)
We think, so far, we’re doing a pretty good job.
That is, until I meet guys like you.
Back in June, the second I saw you at the Marriot Hotel convention hall in D.C., my heart took off like a short-distance sprinter. True confession: I spent the whole rest of the afternoon hiding under the bed in the hotel room (well, I was sharing it with three other girls, there weren’t many other privacy options), and I was totally overwhelmed with the information. Which I can distill down to this sentence:
OH MY GOD, THERE ARE MORE OF US.
Of course, I mean, I’m not an idiot, I knew we weren’t alone in the breed, but it was the proximity, and the kind of dazzling unexpectedness of you – I guess I died a little, that day.
Which brings me to my next question … how alive are you? We Livingstones are in a tentative state -- something between what we’ve been (that is, the way we've existed for a long time … longer than I’d care to admit in this note) and what we want to be. Which is ... just like everyone else, I guess. As in, people. As in, mortals.
Vlad, I’m sorry this note is so cryptic. I’m on more solid ground when I am the ask-er, not the divulge-er. So, on that … do you sleep? Do you feed? Do you long to be less hybrid, more pure state? Do you feel alone? And, uh, do you know more of us?
Any answer will do …
In other news, not much. It’s slooowed down at the restaurant, and I’m trying to learn to play Peter and the Wolf on my clarinet, before my pal Pete’s birthday. Nerd-tastic, I know ...
Chat soon … ciao! Lex
We did move to the Big Apple for reasons other than its incredibly crispy and delicious, vegan-friendly logo. We (that is: Mom, Dad, Hud, Mad, and me) had to emigrate, if we wanted any chance of becoming more human-y-er (um, is that a word?)
We think, so far, we’re doing a pretty good job.
That is, until I meet guys like you.
Back in June, the second I saw you at the Marriot Hotel convention hall in D.C., my heart took off like a short-distance sprinter. True confession: I spent the whole rest of the afternoon hiding under the bed in the hotel room (well, I was sharing it with three other girls, there weren’t many other privacy options), and I was totally overwhelmed with the information. Which I can distill down to this sentence:
OH MY GOD, THERE ARE MORE OF US.
Of course, I mean, I’m not an idiot, I knew we weren’t alone in the breed, but it was the proximity, and the kind of dazzling unexpectedness of you – I guess I died a little, that day.
Which brings me to my next question … how alive are you? We Livingstones are in a tentative state -- something between what we’ve been (that is, the way we've existed for a long time … longer than I’d care to admit in this note) and what we want to be. Which is ... just like everyone else, I guess. As in, people. As in, mortals.
Vlad, I’m sorry this note is so cryptic. I’m on more solid ground when I am the ask-er, not the divulge-er. So, on that … do you sleep? Do you feed? Do you long to be less hybrid, more pure state? Do you feel alone? And, uh, do you know more of us?
Any answer will do …
In other news, not much. It’s slooowed down at the restaurant, and I’m trying to learn to play Peter and the Wolf on my clarinet, before my pal Pete’s birthday. Nerd-tastic, I know ...
Chat soon … ciao! Lex
Thursday, July 26, 2007
The V Word
L~
Wow, Kiki sounds like a major brat. But…truth be told, I'm having a difficult time focusing on that part of our letter. See…the thing is (and I feel terrible admitting this), I very nearly deleted your email. It kinda had me freaking out in a major way. But then I went for a walk (to a secret place that I'd love to show you sometime), and I thought about it, and I realized that I can't just stop emailing you. You're my friend (not to mention seriously adorable). And, if you're my friend, then you deserve some answers.
(And it makes me feel better knowing that you might be…different…too.)
Okay, so I have a secret. And the only two people on the planet who know for sure are my Aunt Nelly and Henry, my best bud. And it seems like you really already know my secret, and might share the same secret…so why is it so hard to say that word? You know, the one that starts with a "V"?
Lex, the truth is, I'm a V….you know. And you are too, aren't you?
Wait, you have braces. Wow, good thing you're a vegetarian. LOL! They'd certainly get in the way of…well…you know. And a-ha! I THOUGHT I saw you flitting a hungry glance over at my rare cheeseburger that day in DC. ;)
So, does that mean your entire family is…like us? I really want to hear more. Kinda terrified that you seem to know about me, but…see, I have no one to talk to about this. I mean, Nelly and Henry aren't like me in that regard. So it would be great not to be alone. Assuming, of course, that I haven’t just shoved my whole foot in my mouth by very nearly admitting who…what…I am.
Write back soon. Immediately isn't soon enough.
~V (...there's that letter again...)
Wow, Kiki sounds like a major brat. But…truth be told, I'm having a difficult time focusing on that part of our letter. See…the thing is (and I feel terrible admitting this), I very nearly deleted your email. It kinda had me freaking out in a major way. But then I went for a walk (to a secret place that I'd love to show you sometime), and I thought about it, and I realized that I can't just stop emailing you. You're my friend (not to mention seriously adorable). And, if you're my friend, then you deserve some answers.
(And it makes me feel better knowing that you might be…different…too.)
Okay, so I have a secret. And the only two people on the planet who know for sure are my Aunt Nelly and Henry, my best bud. And it seems like you really already know my secret, and might share the same secret…so why is it so hard to say that word? You know, the one that starts with a "V"?
Lex, the truth is, I'm a V….you know. And you are too, aren't you?
Wait, you have braces. Wow, good thing you're a vegetarian. LOL! They'd certainly get in the way of…well…you know. And a-ha! I THOUGHT I saw you flitting a hungry glance over at my rare cheeseburger that day in DC. ;)
So, does that mean your entire family is…like us? I really want to hear more. Kinda terrified that you seem to know about me, but…see, I have no one to talk to about this. I mean, Nelly and Henry aren't like me in that regard. So it would be great not to be alone. Assuming, of course, that I haven’t just shoved my whole foot in my mouth by very nearly admitting who…what…I am.
Write back soon. Immediately isn't soon enough.
~V (...there's that letter again...)
Sunday, July 22, 2007
loaded ? ...
Hey Vladdimus,
Ouch, sux about your sign—but friends in high places are so key. There’s a girl in my school (she’s a junior) whose Dad owns part of the Yankees and oh my god does she get away with everything. Her name’s Kiki Capidis and everyone calls her Sneaky Kiki, cuz she’s endlessly getting out of stuff, like gym, study hall, oral reports, passing in papers on time, you name it, honestly, I’m not sure why she even bothers showing up for school … I don’t think she graced us once with her presence last year to partake in the lowly ritual of our cafeteria lunch. Kiki way prefers to snarf croissants at Bonsigneur or a gourmand pasta at Café Buon Gusto. Her lunch money is more than my clothing allowance.
Last year, Kiki took this guy Dylan Easterby to a freshman mixer when he was only in seventh grade and everyone talked about it for days. But that’s how Sneaky Kiki rolls—she doesn’t care what anyone thinks, and she figured out long ago she’s never really going to get in trouble for anything. The girl does not know the word Consequence.
Kiki loves to stand out and be “special” whatever that means, which I’d say is the dead opposite of my dilemma—and, I am guessing, yours, too Vlad. Not that I would win the Nancy Drew Award for my knife-sharp powers of deduction, but I sense that you and I have a twinge more in common that just Debate Club. You hit it on-the-nose (snout?!) about Pete—he’s not one hundred percent, total double-helix human DNA. Even though he has yet to full-on confess it, I do think that’s why we started hanging out back in middle school. Pete just wasn’t part of the regular pack.
And neither are you, right?
Guess you can feel me skating around the issue, it’s hard to commit personal information to a note. Once said, it can never be unsaid. But I will tell you this. I don’t eat all-raw because I love it. It’s because I need to. And unlike Madamoiselle Kiki Capidis, if I ever got caught out disobeying the rules, the repercussions would be major. For me, school is all about trying to blend in, to be counted but discounted … if someone scrutinized me too closely, I might strike them as very, very different.
Any of this strike a chord with you??
In other news, I am taking “Six Weeks to Play Clarinet Like a Pro.” I found this old, not-too-banged-up clarinet in a thrift shop, and the course is online… so far, I sound like a bullfrog with arthritis.
But I’m into it …
Write back, Cutie.
L.
Ouch, sux about your sign—but friends in high places are so key. There’s a girl in my school (she’s a junior) whose Dad owns part of the Yankees and oh my god does she get away with everything. Her name’s Kiki Capidis and everyone calls her Sneaky Kiki, cuz she’s endlessly getting out of stuff, like gym, study hall, oral reports, passing in papers on time, you name it, honestly, I’m not sure why she even bothers showing up for school … I don’t think she graced us once with her presence last year to partake in the lowly ritual of our cafeteria lunch. Kiki way prefers to snarf croissants at Bonsigneur or a gourmand pasta at Café Buon Gusto. Her lunch money is more than my clothing allowance.
Last year, Kiki took this guy Dylan Easterby to a freshman mixer when he was only in seventh grade and everyone talked about it for days. But that’s how Sneaky Kiki rolls—she doesn’t care what anyone thinks, and she figured out long ago she’s never really going to get in trouble for anything. The girl does not know the word Consequence.
Kiki loves to stand out and be “special” whatever that means, which I’d say is the dead opposite of my dilemma—and, I am guessing, yours, too Vlad. Not that I would win the Nancy Drew Award for my knife-sharp powers of deduction, but I sense that you and I have a twinge more in common that just Debate Club. You hit it on-the-nose (snout?!) about Pete—he’s not one hundred percent, total double-helix human DNA. Even though he has yet to full-on confess it, I do think that’s why we started hanging out back in middle school. Pete just wasn’t part of the regular pack.
And neither are you, right?
Guess you can feel me skating around the issue, it’s hard to commit personal information to a note. Once said, it can never be unsaid. But I will tell you this. I don’t eat all-raw because I love it. It’s because I need to. And unlike Madamoiselle Kiki Capidis, if I ever got caught out disobeying the rules, the repercussions would be major. For me, school is all about trying to blend in, to be counted but discounted … if someone scrutinized me too closely, I might strike them as very, very different.
Any of this strike a chord with you??
In other news, I am taking “Six Weeks to Play Clarinet Like a Pro.” I found this old, not-too-banged-up clarinet in a thrift shop, and the course is online… so far, I sound like a bullfrog with arthritis.
But I’m into it …
Write back, Cutie.
L.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
It's Me Again!
Hey Lex –
Kindred spirit. Sure seems like it, huh? I hope I can get to NYC soon. It would be a blast hanging with you again. And Pete sounds great! Kind of like a...well, it sounds crazy, but your friend sure sounds like a werewolf. LOL! Funny, right? I mean, they don't exist. And wow, talk about shaving every day...
Of course, who am I to talk about what does and doesn't exist?
Actually...there's something I'm hesitant to tell you, Lex. I think you know. And what's more, I think you can totally relate. But I can't be sure. So I can't say anything more just yet...not until I'm certain. So, forgive me for sounding cryptic. I just...can't.
The Cow Crossing sign didn’t last long. My aunt made me turn it in to the cops. But Henry told Officer Thompson (an idiot, if I ever saw one) that he took it, so everything was cool. I swear, so long as your last name is MacMillan, you can get away with anything in Bathory. Anyway, I told Henry no more sign-acquiring (I hate to say "stealing"—makes me sound like such a crook), so now he's on this whole "do this or I'll tell Nelly you stole something" kick. Such a jerk. But totally my best friend.
Oh wow, you like trance too? I love the stuff! Maybe if Nelly brings me with her to her nurses' convention in a few months (did I mention it's in Brooklyn?) we could go check out one of the clubs. I've never been to one. Not like we have that kind of thing around here.
Yeah, Henry's getting a little sick of me talking about you too. But I can't help it. I really like you, Lex. J
~V
Kindred spirit. Sure seems like it, huh? I hope I can get to NYC soon. It would be a blast hanging with you again. And Pete sounds great! Kind of like a...well, it sounds crazy, but your friend sure sounds like a werewolf. LOL! Funny, right? I mean, they don't exist. And wow, talk about shaving every day...
Of course, who am I to talk about what does and doesn't exist?
Actually...there's something I'm hesitant to tell you, Lex. I think you know. And what's more, I think you can totally relate. But I can't be sure. So I can't say anything more just yet...not until I'm certain. So, forgive me for sounding cryptic. I just...can't.
The Cow Crossing sign didn’t last long. My aunt made me turn it in to the cops. But Henry told Officer Thompson (an idiot, if I ever saw one) that he took it, so everything was cool. I swear, so long as your last name is MacMillan, you can get away with anything in Bathory. Anyway, I told Henry no more sign-acquiring (I hate to say "stealing"—makes me sound like such a crook), so now he's on this whole "do this or I'll tell Nelly you stole something" kick. Such a jerk. But totally my best friend.
Oh wow, you like trance too? I love the stuff! Maybe if Nelly brings me with her to her nurses' convention in a few months (did I mention it's in Brooklyn?) we could go check out one of the clubs. I've never been to one. Not like we have that kind of thing around here.
Yeah, Henry's getting a little sick of me talking about you too. But I can't help it. I really like you, Lex. J
~V
Monday, July 16, 2007
Night Owling ...
Okay, Vlad, first of all -- major jealousy that you own a Cow Xing sign. That’s got to be a pretty sweet addition to your room décor. My room is pretty “girlie” except for my slovenly sister who seizes every opportunity to try and make it into a pigsty.
Have you always been a night owl? I keep picturing you and Henry on the move, prowling around the neighborhood in the wee hours …your Aunt sounds like a peach to let you just do mostly what you want, mostly when you want. And you’re never dealing with a built-in tattle-tale system, like my sneaky munchkin sis and bossy li’l bro. Vlad, you have no idea how lucky you are …
My Chemical Romance is huge at my school. There’s a group of us who are also into trance music, downtown here in the East Village and parts of DUMBO (stands for Down Under the Manhattan Bridge) has really good our-age clubs for that -- not full-on raves, just a group of us all getting together -- we usually do a sushi dinner before (though I stay away from the fishes, I am all about the bean curd soup and California roll) and my folks are pretty low-key with curfews in the summer, too. Once school starts, that’s a whole different ball of wax. But they get it that I’m more “in my own skin” late-night -- sounds like your Aunt gets that, too. Kindred spirit!
My friend Pete is also kind of an unusual specimen. Let’s just say he is very affected by the phases of the moon -- he’s always been sensitive to it, but this summer he went through a growth spurt, five inches in five months, I swear, and it’s been a little bit trickier for him (sorry if I'm being kinda enigmatic, but I think you know what I mean). His personality can shift significantly with the wax and wane; he never really knows if it’s hormones or ancestry. He’s got these wacky eyes that reflect moonlight almost to the point where they can look clear, but then in broad daylight they are Coca-cola brown.
Pete told me the dumbest joke yesterday -- we were passing by a cemetery near Grace Church School, and he said, “here we are, in the dead center of town.” So lame, but I laughed, so that’s what I’m closing my note to you with … write back, tell me what’s up! When are you going to visit NYC? My folks are getting sick of me talking about you, and I think Pete is feeling jealous -- though he’d never admit it. Mostly, he just wants to hang with you, too.
xx Lexie
Have you always been a night owl? I keep picturing you and Henry on the move, prowling around the neighborhood in the wee hours …your Aunt sounds like a peach to let you just do mostly what you want, mostly when you want. And you’re never dealing with a built-in tattle-tale system, like my sneaky munchkin sis and bossy li’l bro. Vlad, you have no idea how lucky you are …
My Chemical Romance is huge at my school. There’s a group of us who are also into trance music, downtown here in the East Village and parts of DUMBO (stands for Down Under the Manhattan Bridge) has really good our-age clubs for that -- not full-on raves, just a group of us all getting together -- we usually do a sushi dinner before (though I stay away from the fishes, I am all about the bean curd soup and California roll) and my folks are pretty low-key with curfews in the summer, too. Once school starts, that’s a whole different ball of wax. But they get it that I’m more “in my own skin” late-night -- sounds like your Aunt gets that, too. Kindred spirit!
My friend Pete is also kind of an unusual specimen. Let’s just say he is very affected by the phases of the moon -- he’s always been sensitive to it, but this summer he went through a growth spurt, five inches in five months, I swear, and it’s been a little bit trickier for him (sorry if I'm being kinda enigmatic, but I think you know what I mean). His personality can shift significantly with the wax and wane; he never really knows if it’s hormones or ancestry. He’s got these wacky eyes that reflect moonlight almost to the point where they can look clear, but then in broad daylight they are Coca-cola brown.
Pete told me the dumbest joke yesterday -- we were passing by a cemetery near Grace Church School, and he said, “here we are, in the dead center of town.” So lame, but I laughed, so that’s what I’m closing my note to you with … write back, tell me what’s up! When are you going to visit NYC? My folks are getting sick of me talking about you, and I think Pete is feeling jealous -- though he’d never admit it. Mostly, he just wants to hang with you, too.
xx Lexie
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Sunscreen, Armageddon, and A One-of-a-Kind Dorkfest
Hey Lex –
Oh, Vegan! Thanks for the explanation, for a minute I was wondering what they could possibly serve. I never seem to remember veggies. But how cool is it that you have a job? Me, I just mooch off of Henry and hope Nelly will hand me a few bucks now and again. Not like a person needs a lot of money to do anything in Bathory. This place sucks.
Wow, XPS? Sounds like you have serous sun issues. I use SPF 70 and it gets the job done. My dad was pretty sunburn-prone, I guess you could say, so Nelly worries that I might be too. Y'know...I'm starting to think we might have a lot more in common than I originally thought. Of course, it might be my imagination. After all...I don't think anyone's like me. Not really. Sometimes I feel like I'm just desperately looking for people like me. Y'know? Or...maybe you don't. I guess what I'm trying to say is that you're nice.
Coney Island sounds so cool! About the most exciting thing Henry and I have done this summer is take a trip to the Stokerton Mall and pick up this seriously sweet new game for the PS2 called Race to Armageddon. Oh, and Henry stayed over last weekend and due to a game of Truth or Dare going horribly awry, I'm now the proud new owner of a cow-crossing sign. Plus, during the summer my aunt lets me stay up as late as I want, which is a huge plus. I'm a total night owl.
Nelly has a cat too. Her name is Amenti. Just picture an enormous ball of black fur that would probably roll if you nudged it with your toe—that's her.
As far as music goes, I'm pretty open-minded. I'm really into My Chemical Romance lately, and this new band out of Chicago, Kill Hannah. They're pretty cool. Oh! And I wanted to tell you about the stupid picnic the school held for us for winning at Regionals—major dorkfest. Principal Snelgrove wore a tie. A tie! In 90-degree, I'm-melting-in-the-Midwest heat! All the families came out and brought food. It wouldn't have been so bad (well, except for Snelgrove), but then Bill and Tom showed up. They're complete Neanderthal jerks. Anyway...like I said, dorkfest.
Gotta go—Nelly's already gearing up for back to school shopping. Ugh...parental figures. Write soon!
~Vlad
Oh, Vegan! Thanks for the explanation, for a minute I was wondering what they could possibly serve. I never seem to remember veggies. But how cool is it that you have a job? Me, I just mooch off of Henry and hope Nelly will hand me a few bucks now and again. Not like a person needs a lot of money to do anything in Bathory. This place sucks.
Wow, XPS? Sounds like you have serous sun issues. I use SPF 70 and it gets the job done. My dad was pretty sunburn-prone, I guess you could say, so Nelly worries that I might be too. Y'know...I'm starting to think we might have a lot more in common than I originally thought. Of course, it might be my imagination. After all...I don't think anyone's like me. Not really. Sometimes I feel like I'm just desperately looking for people like me. Y'know? Or...maybe you don't. I guess what I'm trying to say is that you're nice.
Coney Island sounds so cool! About the most exciting thing Henry and I have done this summer is take a trip to the Stokerton Mall and pick up this seriously sweet new game for the PS2 called Race to Armageddon. Oh, and Henry stayed over last weekend and due to a game of Truth or Dare going horribly awry, I'm now the proud new owner of a cow-crossing sign. Plus, during the summer my aunt lets me stay up as late as I want, which is a huge plus. I'm a total night owl.
Nelly has a cat too. Her name is Amenti. Just picture an enormous ball of black fur that would probably roll if you nudged it with your toe—that's her.
As far as music goes, I'm pretty open-minded. I'm really into My Chemical Romance lately, and this new band out of Chicago, Kill Hannah. They're pretty cool. Oh! And I wanted to tell you about the stupid picnic the school held for us for winning at Regionals—major dorkfest. Principal Snelgrove wore a tie. A tie! In 90-degree, I'm-melting-in-the-Midwest heat! All the families came out and brought food. It wouldn't have been so bad (well, except for Snelgrove), but then Bill and Tom showed up. They're complete Neanderthal jerks. Anyway...like I said, dorkfest.
Gotta go—Nelly's already gearing up for back to school shopping. Ugh...parental figures. Write soon!
~Vlad
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Vladdy—(did anyone ever call you that?)
Just got back from my shift at the Candlewick Café. It’s a vegan restaurant—no dairy, no eggs, and of course no fish, chix, meat—where I am bussing tables. I smell like orange juice and onions—and that’s after my shower. words beyond gross. but the money’s good, and necessary, and I feel like my summer is an endless well of need. This week alone, I bought flip-flops—the strap on my old ones broke—plus new sunglasses, since my oversized ones made me look like a bug, more bottles of sunscreen (I use XPS, available with prescription, it’s thick as chewing gum but gets the job done) and then last week my friend Pete and I went to Coney Island, so I owe him money for that.
OMG Coney Island was so awesome. I am the opposite of scared of heights—I crave heights. Must be that ole ancient instinct. And Pete loves rides that make him dizzy. We musta hit ten apiece, sustained on cotton candy, Italian ices (cherry!), and caramel apples, plus 3 hotdogs for Pete, so we were in serious barf-mode by sundown. It was the best! That place is so retro that it’s now-tro. If you ever come visit, we’ll take you there.
Our Fourth was excellent—me, Maddy, Hud, 'rents, Pete, all watched the fireworks from the Brooklyn Bridge, which was then followed by nature’s fireworks, in the form of a run-for-cover, thunder-and-lightning storm. Our cat, Pepper, was kind of spazzed by the whole thing and hid in the hamper. Pepper is a stray and has known some tough times in her last cat-life, but now she’s retired from all that and she doesn’t like anything to rock her feline world.
How is Henry? What are you bad boys up too? Did you get some attention from winning the debate? I put the clipping on my corkboard next to my autographed lyric sheet from the great Eliot Smith. He is kind of my music hero/god. Do you have any of those? Besides your teachers, who sounds amazing...I'm hoping for one of those, a la Dead Poet's Society, next year.
Hey I think I am blathering like my Great-Aunt Spottswood. w/b…. xx L.
Just got back from my shift at the Candlewick Café. It’s a vegan restaurant—no dairy, no eggs, and of course no fish, chix, meat—where I am bussing tables. I smell like orange juice and onions—and that’s after my shower. words beyond gross. but the money’s good, and necessary, and I feel like my summer is an endless well of need. This week alone, I bought flip-flops—the strap on my old ones broke—plus new sunglasses, since my oversized ones made me look like a bug, more bottles of sunscreen (I use XPS, available with prescription, it’s thick as chewing gum but gets the job done) and then last week my friend Pete and I went to Coney Island, so I owe him money for that.
OMG Coney Island was so awesome. I am the opposite of scared of heights—I crave heights. Must be that ole ancient instinct. And Pete loves rides that make him dizzy. We musta hit ten apiece, sustained on cotton candy, Italian ices (cherry!), and caramel apples, plus 3 hotdogs for Pete, so we were in serious barf-mode by sundown. It was the best! That place is so retro that it’s now-tro. If you ever come visit, we’ll take you there.
Our Fourth was excellent—me, Maddy, Hud, 'rents, Pete, all watched the fireworks from the Brooklyn Bridge, which was then followed by nature’s fireworks, in the form of a run-for-cover, thunder-and-lightning storm. Our cat, Pepper, was kind of spazzed by the whole thing and hid in the hamper. Pepper is a stray and has known some tough times in her last cat-life, but now she’s retired from all that and she doesn’t like anything to rock her feline world.
How is Henry? What are you bad boys up too? Did you get some attention from winning the debate? I put the clipping on my corkboard next to my autographed lyric sheet from the great Eliot Smith. He is kind of my music hero/god. Do you have any of those? Besides your teachers, who sounds amazing...I'm hoping for one of those, a la Dead Poet's Society, next year.
Hey I think I am blathering like my Great-Aunt Spottswood. w/b…. xx L.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Happy Belated 4th of July!
Hey Lexie! I was just wondering if you'd really write to me like you said you would. Henry's been bugging me to email you, but really, it's not my style. You can probably guess by now that I'm kinda shy. (Not everyone can be all perfect and outgoing like Henry.) But I'm really happy to hear from you. Sorry we kicked your butts so hard at Regionals. Our debate team leader/English teacher, Mr. Craig (who's uber cool, btw—he lets us bring food into his class and always gives us a free day after tests), has really been pushing us lately. Of course, you guys kinda sucked, so it doesn't make me feel like all that studying was worth it at all. LOL!
It's so cool that you have a brother and sister. Trust me, being an only kid isn't all it's cracked up to be. Honestly, it gets pretty lonely. It would be nice to have family around all the time like that, people who know your secrets and still think you're cool. At least...that's kinda how I envision it. Henry says he can't stand his brother most of the time, but I imagine if I had one, we'd be really close. At least, I hope so. Not like it matters. Ever since my parents died (long story), it's just my Aunt Nelly and me. But hey, that just means some serious pay out around the holidays! :)
Not much was waiting for me when I got home. Well, my aunt (who's not really my aunt, she's just my legal guardian) made me a cake, but honestly, she's such a bad cook that I barely touched it. The gooey filling was tasty, though...
Peach and mango? Spring peas? *gag* How can you eat that stuff?? Humans eat the craziest stuff--yeah! Like you and your veggies! LOL! I guess you'd say I'm more of a carnivore. Give me steak any day over veggies, fruits and herbs--especially garlic. I'm allergic, big time.
Dude! I'm so checking out Facebook! A shame you won't be on there, though...do you think you could send me a pic sometime? Y'know, just something to look at while I'm emailing you?
Hey stalker :), it wasn't easy to walk over and introduce myself, ya know...in fact, I probably wouldn't have. But there was something about you. I dunno, it seemed familiar. Something about your smile...
Wait a second. What would your other two guesses at my name have been??
It's so cool that you have a brother and sister. Trust me, being an only kid isn't all it's cracked up to be. Honestly, it gets pretty lonely. It would be nice to have family around all the time like that, people who know your secrets and still think you're cool. At least...that's kinda how I envision it. Henry says he can't stand his brother most of the time, but I imagine if I had one, we'd be really close. At least, I hope so. Not like it matters. Ever since my parents died (long story), it's just my Aunt Nelly and me. But hey, that just means some serious pay out around the holidays! :)
Not much was waiting for me when I got home. Well, my aunt (who's not really my aunt, she's just my legal guardian) made me a cake, but honestly, she's such a bad cook that I barely touched it. The gooey filling was tasty, though...
Peach and mango? Spring peas? *gag* How can you eat that stuff?? Humans eat the craziest stuff--yeah! Like you and your veggies! LOL! I guess you'd say I'm more of a carnivore. Give me steak any day over veggies, fruits and herbs--especially garlic. I'm allergic, big time.
Dude! I'm so checking out Facebook! A shame you won't be on there, though...do you think you could send me a pic sometime? Y'know, just something to look at while I'm emailing you?
Hey stalker :), it wasn't easy to walk over and introduce myself, ya know...in fact, I probably wouldn't have. But there was something about you. I dunno, it seemed familiar. Something about your smile...
Wait a second. What would your other two guesses at my name have been??
Sunday, July 1, 2007
7-01-07 Summer Salutations Vlad!
Vladimir! I just saw your picture (nice snap) and read the article in the Sunday Times Metro about Bathory taking the Eastern Regionals—so I figured ok my very first post to you should be a humungous congrats! We Debate-challenged scrubs of P.S. 42 only halfway knew what we were up against last weekend in D.C.—our team is let’s just say on the slacker side, and Mr. Winter, our half-asleep-proctor-/-half-awake history teacher hasn’t brought home the gold since 1953 … anyhow, the Baltimore v. Bathory showdown was pretty intense—I watched most of it on Google Current, but then my wingnut li'l bro Hudson (who has been on this environmental crusade, that’s another story) shorted the electricity while trying to get the tv onto a time-save device. To make a bad story short, the tv just popped. Once I realized I could find it as a podcast, the debate was over … sigh ...
Hud gets away with murder because adults just gaze into his green eyes and think he’s an angel—really he’s a little beast. I also have a sister, Maddy (think I mentioned her) who is even more of a handful. U R so lucky to be an only … Maddy shares a room with me, and she makes it like a cave, four humidifiers, clothes everywhere (except for in the hamper), has no clue how to make her bed, ugh. But both rugrats were supersweet when I came home. They even made me a peach and mango fruit salad and spring-pea smoothie for my welcome home dinner (I know, I know, that’s not your style, but seriously, not that bad to be all-raw).
Kinda nuts, Vlad, but I’ve never been away from my sibs! What an awesome experience—when Miss Gillis put my name up for a potential Away Debater, I figured that it just meant one trip to Edison, NJ like last yr. But a week in D.C. (btw I posted all the photos on Facebook. You won’t see any pics of me though, for reasons maybe you have guessed?) goes down in the halls of my memory as an experience to savor when I’m a creaky ole grandma. I’ve been telling Mad and Hud all about how I sat in on Senate session, and touched the Vietnam Memorial, and of course tried a free sample of pineapple-coconut-walnut fudge for the very first (last) time at the Georgetown Mall.
Grade: Ew. Humans eat the craziest stuff.
Of all the spectacles, I gotta say, meeting you was right up there. I remember when I spied you on the stage for the first time, you were sort of lounged back in that folding chair with your arms crossed over your chest, your chin tipped down, like you were listening to something, but maybe you were asleep, and I just knew … well, I’m not sure exactly what I knew. But I felt like something waked up inside me, and later when I started talking to your flirty friend Henry as a way to meet you (sneaky!), and then you walked up and introduced yourself, the pitch of your voice was exactly how I thought it would sound. It was like I already knew your name. I swear. As in, if somebody had asked “What’s that guy’s name?” I really think Vladimir would have been in my top 3 guesses. Because I feel like I knew you from before. Not to creep you out. Or to seem like a stalker … lol … well, now I better go, b4 this post seems too stalker-ishly long.
Write back when you get a chance!
Hud gets away with murder because adults just gaze into his green eyes and think he’s an angel—really he’s a little beast. I also have a sister, Maddy (think I mentioned her) who is even more of a handful. U R so lucky to be an only … Maddy shares a room with me, and she makes it like a cave, four humidifiers, clothes everywhere (except for in the hamper), has no clue how to make her bed, ugh. But both rugrats were supersweet when I came home. They even made me a peach and mango fruit salad and spring-pea smoothie for my welcome home dinner (I know, I know, that’s not your style, but seriously, not that bad to be all-raw).
Kinda nuts, Vlad, but I’ve never been away from my sibs! What an awesome experience—when Miss Gillis put my name up for a potential Away Debater, I figured that it just meant one trip to Edison, NJ like last yr. But a week in D.C. (btw I posted all the photos on Facebook. You won’t see any pics of me though, for reasons maybe you have guessed?) goes down in the halls of my memory as an experience to savor when I’m a creaky ole grandma. I’ve been telling Mad and Hud all about how I sat in on Senate session, and touched the Vietnam Memorial, and of course tried a free sample of pineapple-coconut-walnut fudge for the very first (last) time at the Georgetown Mall.
Grade: Ew. Humans eat the craziest stuff.
Of all the spectacles, I gotta say, meeting you was right up there. I remember when I spied you on the stage for the first time, you were sort of lounged back in that folding chair with your arms crossed over your chest, your chin tipped down, like you were listening to something, but maybe you were asleep, and I just knew … well, I’m not sure exactly what I knew. But I felt like something waked up inside me, and later when I started talking to your flirty friend Henry as a way to meet you (sneaky!), and then you walked up and introduced yourself, the pitch of your voice was exactly how I thought it would sound. It was like I already knew your name. I swear. As in, if somebody had asked “What’s that guy’s name?” I really think Vladimir would have been in my top 3 guesses. Because I feel like I knew you from before. Not to creep you out. Or to seem like a stalker … lol … well, now I better go, b4 this post seems too stalker-ishly long.
Write back when you get a chance!
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Monday, June 18, 2007
Coming Soon!
Watch this space for a fangtastic new blog featuring characters from Adele Griffin's VAMPIRE ISLAND and Heather Brewer's THE CHRONICLES OF VLADIMIR TOD: EIGHTH GRADE BITES, starting in July '07!
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