"I don't have any idea if a coon can climb up a rope."
So says my neighbor, who has been brought in as an expert on our little problem, as you might want to call it.
Apparently, my mom had been hearing noises in the chimney while we were in London. My dad finally agreed to get up on the roof and look in, because my mom spent last night in my bed as a consequence of the noises were keeping her up.
Anyway, it turns out we either have one coon or a family, but probably it's just a mother who's pregnant (isn't that nice?). Anyway, we may soon have a family if we don't get her (them?) out.
Of course, instead of getting involved with the whole problem, I looked the issue up on the internet and went back to my room to blog (shutting my door tightly after me). At my suggestion (aka the internet's), we are playing loud music and shining lights down the chimney. And my dad decided to drop a rope down, although the neighbor obviously doubts its feasibility.

[Please note: this was posted yesterday, and I was very angry at blogger because it wasn't showing up. Imagine my embarassment when I realized I'd posted it on another blog]

I am back from the land of bland food and crazy drunks, otherwise known as England. I have learned a few things. Namely, I sound American, I dress like an American, I am a "mentalist," I don't ever want to set foot on the UEL campus again, I love Brunel, Loughborough and Coventry, and last but not least I don't get jet lag.
This was a lovely discovery for me to make. It means that if I wake up at 6 in the morning, pack a suitcase, take hours of mass transit to an airport, queue for security, queue for boarding passes, board a plane, spend 8 hours there, go through customs, spend 2 hours waiting for a delayed flight, get my lost luggage, spend another couple of hours trying to figure out where my next flight is, go through security again, check the bags (again), get on (another) plane, spend a(nother) hour there, spend another half hour waiting for luggage and finding a taxi, spend 45 minutes getting the cabbie to drive in the general direction of my home, and arrive at said home at 2 in the morning (8 in the morning, London time) I WILL NOT HAVE JETLAG THE NEXT DAY.
How cool is that? I stayed awake for 26 hours straight, went to sleep for 4 hours, got up at 6 this morning, and I feel fine. Although I have asked various people what day it was more than a couple of times, I'm told.

Anyway, I had a fabulous time there, even if no one would speak to me, some dining experiences I had were ::ahem:: less than satisfactory, and I now officially hate our school. But yeah, if you want me to tell you stories (cause I sure ain't typing them all up), you should talk to me.

In other news, I would like to extend a formal apology to Alex for various reasons, all of which I assume she knows.

Today is the 6-month anniversary of Justin's death.
I've been thinking about the word anniversary. It seems fairly positive, as it's used in wedding anniversaries. But also it seems to have a serious ceremonial overtone, which is what I feel right now.
My world needs a little more ceremony. I am sometimes jealous of Catholics, because of all the ceremony and dogma that comes with the religion. Unitarianism would do well to follow their lead.
My ceremony for this anniversary was just to sit and listen to the song that reminds me of him. I also looked at some pictures on my computer, but not exactly on purpose, as I'll explain later. It felt nice doing that. My other little ceremony has been to wear black every Tuesday since the day he died. I think it would be more appropriate to wear green, but black is more somber.
It's interesting that today is both a Tuesday and a 14th, I don't think that the calender always works out like that.
The subconcious is also something I've been pondering. I hadn't been thinking about this anniversary at all. I hadn't worked out what month it would fall in, although it would have been pretty simple to do, on hindsight.
Even so, I woke up around 6:30 this morning for absolutely no reason at all. I felt sick to my stomach, and I began to read my way through the copies of Sandman comics I own, ending with "The Wake." I imported some photos into my computer, and ended up looking through the pictures of Justin. I continued to feel ill, until a few minutes ago when I realized what day it was. Strange, how things like that can sneak up on you conpletely unawares. And your subconcious keeps track of it all.

Glurf. Again I am enticed into the world of blogger instead of the world of "Shit shit Amelia! You should pack for England because you leave at 4 in the morning on Wednesday."
I kind of prefer this world, anyway. But I (ahem) don't really have anything to say. Some updates: the boys left for Germany on Saturday, I managed to get sunburnt while driving, and my thumb is healing. (Don't remember that I hurt my thumb? May I drect your attention here?)
Also, my father has left almost all the planning of this trip to England to me. I am feeling like it was a bad idea to do so. I have managed to find all of one college on a map. And I don't know how we're going to get from one place to another. Or where we're staying. (Ok, the last one was a lie. We have accomidations. Only for half the nights, and outside the city. But still). So I should be planning that.
I went to a very strange movie yesterday with my father and my sister. It's playing at the Oakstreet if you want to see it, which you don't. It's called "Save the Green Planet," and when looking at the poster you would assume it was an environmental movie about a slightly crazy man trying to rescue the Earth. However, it is actually about a extremely crazy man, hopped up on LSD, who kidnaps this man. Then he tortures him in his basement, with the help of his slightly retarded girlfriend. The worst part of the movie, for me, was when the tortured man has his hand nailed to boards (a la Christ on the cross) and has to pull them off to attempt to escape.
The other moment I did not enjoy was when the dectective who was investigating the case went to the house. He ended up dead in a stream, and from there was chopped to bits with a knife and fed to a dog, named Earth. Earth only eats human flesh. Anyway. It was unpleasent, and has spoiled the song "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" for me.
Off to plan a trip.

Mmmm... Summer. I woke up at 11:30 this morning, went out jogging, had a shower, and ate lunch. Nothing to study, nothing to do. Amazing.
I will say that I need to go out jogging earlier in the morning, though. Too many people were around, and they were all too friendly. One man, leaning out the passenger side window of a car told me I "looked hot." You're damn right I'm hot, I'm jogging, and it's 80 degrees out! Which reminded me of this quote.

One of the things Ford Prefect had always found hardest to understand about humans was their habit of continually stating the obvious, as in It's a nice day or You're very tall or Oh dear you seem to have fallen down a thirty-foot well, are you all right? At first Ford has formed a theory to account for this strange behavior. If human beings don't keep exercising their lips, he thought, their mouths probably seize up.After a few months' consideration and observation he abandoned this theory in favor of a new one. If they don't keep on exercising their lips, he thought, their brains start working. (Hitchhiker's Guide to the Gallexy, Douglas Adams).

Freshman year? Check. Sophomore year? Check. Junior year? Check. Senior year? Working on it.
I can't believe I made it this far in school. Wow. Three years and I'm still here, you SLP folks must be really amazing. My one regret for the school year is that I had depression for most of it, which impacted my ability to keep friends. While Andy claims that yearbooks have no relation to friends, I disagree.
This would definitely be proof that I lost friends this year. Boo.
I did have an amazing time playing DDR today, thanks to everyone who put up with me going "can I play now?" I also liked going in the sprinkler, my wet t-shirt contest with myself (I won), and Thrasher's nipple hair.
I made a list of things to do this summer before school ended, and I read it to my mom. "Fun!" she said, "you forgot to put 'fun' on your list!" I think she might have a point. To do this summer:

• Graduation parties
  
• Job
  
• College vearch
  
• College visits
  
• Catch up on Reading
  
• Fix my clothes
  
• Learn how to use camera
  
• Start exercising
  
• Do my Gold project for Girl Scouts
  
• Make the website for Icaghowan
  
• Plan worships for Icaghowan
  
• Scan in my pictures of Justin and my pictures from Spanish camp last year
  
• Work on portfolio
  
• Work on my extended essay
  
• CAS hours?
  
• Summer homework?
  
• Clean my room/move my desk/organize my life

I'm really excited about being freeeee for a couple of months. Andy S, if you're reading this, I do revert back to my homeschooler ways in the summer. And yes, it is rather like a feral child. (feralchildren.com, a website I discovered while doing a TOK project.)
I think I'm addicted to DDR, and if I can find a job I am definitely going to get an XBox or something.