The Evil Piñata, the Duet, and the Dropping Umbrellas

(01-21-11) It’s been two days since I last posted. This will be my third post in a row. I wonder how many times I can use the word “post” in a paragraph.

           Apparently, the answer is three.

          I get bored easily. Do you? I mean, I have homework for at least three of my classes I could be doing (I only have four), I have my own privet project that requires I read and take notes, I could be playing the piano (which is true, but people are watching the television in that room, so I really can’t…), petting my cat, singing to my cat, cleaning my room, cuddling with my cat, reading a book, watching television, decorating my room, petting or singing to any of the three other cats in the house, writing in any of my progressing works of my literary voice (also known as a novel), sleeping, or doing something else on the insipidly dull internet. Whoa. That was a seven-line sentence.

          Last year, for my birthday, Bebo and two other friends gave me a piñata. It’s bold and colorful. We didn’t destroy it. We just couldn’t. As of now, it is staring at me with its creepy, oversized eyes. If I cut off the head, I would love it to death, even if it would be dead. But that eerie grin and those eyes… That’s it. Okay, now it is shut into my closet.

          Okay! You got me. I have an irrational fear of my piñata. I think I always have of piñatas in general. They’re amazing to hit (mostly because it’s the only thing you can legally whack ceaselessly and maliciously with a stick).

          When I was a young child, I went through the traumatic experience of an alarm going off as I went into a store. (I may or may not have kicked those things they place at the entrance…) Into. Not out of. Yeah. My life is that sad. Well, Bebo and Hugo are much sadder. I never thought it was possible until I met (and grew to know) them. But that is their story to tell. I shall not steal their pathetic glory.

          (01-31-11) Oh, how deplorable this is! I was very sick last night, so I missed school. Again. Bebo, Hugo, and Leonard are getting a wee bit upset. Well, so am I! I read this thing the other day that said, “Sick and tired of being sick and tired.” How well that applies to me. I had to go to the doctor the other week and she asked how often I feel well-rested. Yeah… I only remember that happening maybe two times in my entire life. Oh, and one of my professors is figuring out how often I’m sick. I was sick with a cough/cold thing for the first two weeks of school (at least, I think it’s gone…), then I caught some horrible… thing… and missed school for a week, and this weekend, I was finally almost better when I caught yet another thing! But I believe it may just be gone. Well, it should tomorrow. It was one of those quick ones. In and out, just like that.

          Okay, enough venting…

          Recently, Bebo and I went to a deaf comedian’s performance. ‘Twas amazing! One thing that caught our attention was this exercise he had us do with the person sitting next to us. Now, the thing you have to understand is that Bebo and I are learning a duet in ASL (American Sign Language). It’s called Duet With Myself by Charlie McDonnell (You should really look it up. It’s pretty funny.) In the song, he is singing with a copy of himself, so we are, in fact, pretending we are one person. One part is, “You know that I really, really love you/ I really love you, too/ Yes, even though it’s vain, I think we feel the same/ You need to be able to love yourself.” Well, the comedian had us sign, “I appreciate you, I thank you, I love you,” to each other. We had a little bit of a déjà vu moment…

          Hugo has created a new exclamation: “Holy Swiss!” It’s certainly entertaining. The carpool has a daily exclamation. Every day, as we leave campus, the car cries, “Chef in the bush!” Thank you for that expression, Bebo. Thank you.  Except, the other day it was “Eskimo in the bush, smoking!” Yerrr… And maybe it’s just at our school, but the chefs tend to be tall and scary. We (Bebo and I) literally ran one day while we were lost and saw a chef. Until I stopped to take dozen or so pictures of a squirrel. Leonard was with us as well, but he just doesn’t understand…

          As a parting word, I suggest not using any of Bebo’s umbrellas if your name is Joe. Two of his umbrellas have so far closed spontaneously. One of them kept falling on my head. The Dancing Dwarf was too far amused with the situation. Oh, you umbrellas!

          Joe