Another plus about Josh being gone is that I can actually get INTO my locker this year, since he and Lana aren’t splayed up against it with their tongues in each other’s mouths.

Although I do have to say that the guy who’s been assigned Josh’s old locker is pretty good-looking. He must be an exchange student because I’ve never seen him before. But he can’t be a freshman because he’s got razor stubble. At eight in the morning. Also, when he said, “So sorry,” after accidentally sloshing some of his grande latte onto my boot while he was wrestling a gym bag into his locker, he fully had a South American accent, like that guy Audrey Hepburn was going to run off with in that movie Breakfast at Tiffany’s before she came to her senses (or lost her mind, in Grandmère’s opinion).

This is so BORING, sitting here listening to announcement after announcement. There’s an assembly this afternoon, so we’ve got an abbreviated seventh period. Who cares? Mr. G (FRANK. FRANK.) looks as tired as I feel. I swear, I love Rocky with every fiber of my being—almost as much as I love Fat Louie, even—but the lungs on that kid! Seriously, he will NOT stop crying unless someone sings to him.

Which is okay during waking hours, because ever since I saw Crossroads I’ve been kind of worried, you know, about what I’m going to sing if I ever have to do karaoke to earn motel money on a road trip, and so Rocky’s obsession with song gives me a good opportunity to practice. I really think I’ve got “Milkshake” down pat, and I’m working on “Man! I Feel Like a Woman” by Shania Twain.

But when he starts up with the crying thing in the middle of the night…whoa. I love him, but even I, the baby-licker—which is SO not fair of Lilly to call me, because I have NOT licked all of Rocky’s fur off like that red panda on Animal Planet did to HER baby—just want to stuff a pillow over my head and ignore it.

Only I can’t. Because everyone else in the loft is doing that. Because Mom’s theory is that we’re just spoiling him, picking him up and singing every time he cries.

But my theory is that he wouldn’t cry if there weren’t something wrong. Like what if his blanket has gotten wrapped around his neck and he’s CHOKING???? If no one goes in to check, he could be DEAD by morning!

So, I have to drag myself out of bed and sing the fastest song I know to him—“Yes U Can” by Jewel—and then as soon as he dozes off dive back into my own bed and try to fall back asleep before he starts up again—

OOOOH! My cell phone just buzzed! It’s a text message from Michael!

GOOD LUCK 2DAY. LOVE, M

He got up early just to wish me luck!!!! Could there BE a better boyfriend?

Tuesday, September 8, PE

I understand that obesity is epidemic in the U.S. and all of that. I know that the average American is ten pounds heavier than their BMI says they should be, and that we all need to walk more and eat less.

But, seriously, is any of that an excuse for forcing teenage girls to have to CHANGE CLOTHES, much less SHOWER, in front of one another? I so think not.

Like it’s not enough that I even have to TAKE physical education. And it’s not enough that I have to take it FIRST THING IN THE MORNING. And it’s not enough that I have to STRIP DOWN IN FRONT OF VIRTUAL STRANGERS.

No, I also have to do it in front of Miss Lana Weinberger. Who also happens to have first period PE.

And who took the liberty of pointing out in front of everyone, as we were changing into our gym clothes before class, that she “really liked” my Queen Amidala panties—which I only wore for good luck on my first day back to class, although evidently they don’t work anymore—in a tone that suggested she did not like them at all.

And then she wanted to know if Genovia was suffering from an economic crisis, since its royals seemed to be shopping for their underwear at Target. As if all of us can afford to get our underwear from Agent Provocateur like Lana and Britney Spears!

I hate her.

Lilly told me not to worry about it…that Lana will be “getting what she deserves” shortly.

Whatever that means.

Tuesday, September 8, English

M—Could she be any cuter?—Tina

I know! When is the last time we had a teacher who wore anything that wasn’t corduroy?

Totally! And her hair! That flippy thing it does on the ends!

That is so how I want my hair. So Chloe on Smallville.

I know! And her glasses!

Cat’s-eye! With rhinestones! Could she be more Karen O?

Who’s Karen O?

Lead singer for the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.

Oh, right. I was thinking Maggie Gyllenhall.

I think it’s Gylenhaal.

I think maybe it’s Gellynhaal.

OH, MY GOD, YOU IDIOTS, IT’S GYLLENHAAL! WOULD YOU TWO STOP PASSING NOTES AND FREAKING PAY ATTENTION? DO YOU WANT TO ALIENATE THE ONE TEACHER WHO ACTUALLY MIGHT TURN OUT TO BE ABLE TO TEACH US SOMETHING USEFUL?????—L

What’s Lilly’s problem today?

Um. I don’t know, exactly. PMS?

Oh, sure. Anyway. So Maggie’s brother’s the one who went out with Kirsten Dunst, right?

RIGHT!

So cute!!!!!!!!!!

Tuesday, September 8, Geometry

Okay.

I can do this. I can totally do this.

Converse:

The converse of a conditional statement is formed by interchanging its hypothesis and conclusion.

Contrapositive:

The contrapositive of a conditional statement is formed by interchanging its hypothesis and conclusion, then denying both.