Your eyes see what mine cannot see...

Last night I made a playlist on Windows Media that makes me really happy.  It's got some pretty awesome music on it.  Right now I'm listening to Simon by Lifehouse.  Before that I listened to a 38th Parallel song.  Before that it was Rumors by Waking Ashland, but I skipped that one.

School was good.  I had a good day.  I ate lunch there.  It was a baked potato, which was good, except for the cheese.  It was that kind of weird cheese that they give you with concession stand nachos.  Lots of people love that cheese, but I am not one of them.  I don't hate it, and I ate most of it, but it's not my first choice.  If there had been sour cream I would have been a happy camper.  Jessica was awesome (as always) and loaned me the money for lunch because I forgot to ask Mom for some, so I have to pay her back tomorrow.  Don't let me forget.

I babysat Grace right after school, which was fun.  I love that little girl.  She is adorable.  "Mara is at my house!  Come in, come in!  Let's play with the kitchen stuff!"

I'm almost caught up with Brit Lit.  This whole year is going to stress me out to death.  There is so much of it.  I don't know, it's a lot for me.  I'm a slow reader, and if I read too much I don't remember any of it, and fancy that, the entire thing is reading and comprehension type questions.  Tons of it.  Tons, I tell you.  Goodness gracious.

I'm off to read more stuff.

Mara Tenille Dickens
The Butterfly Child

1 comment:

  1. *chuckle*

    I feel the pain of Brit Lit. 'Twere many an unpleasant afternoon spent sprawled on my bed
    reading those definitive tomes of our language, and not especially enjoying it, either.

    I've always heard and therefore been of the opinion that those who read more slowly retain more, and so the reading comprehension is probably easier for you than it was for me.

    At any rate, may I inquire what it is you're reading, at present?