Since I've been away, we've had our three thousandth member join the Wall! OMZ! Trads, zombies, and I think one werewolf!
In other news, by using a very complex mathematical formula, I have determined that incidents of bullying the undead are down 17.63% percent at Oakvale High (if you would like a copy of my highly scientificalogical study you can post a request here). Differently biotic kids are becoming much more active--no wait that doesn't sound right--they are becoming much more animated--no wait that's not right, either--they are becoming much more involved in school activities. There are a few zombies in the upcoming school play, The Crucible, there is a zombie on the wrestling team, and my pal Melissa (also a zombie) has joined the yearbook committee. Zombies everywhere! And still more coming to the school all the time.
Colette is back at school, did I mention? We already had an adventure! With Phoebe!
Are zombies attending your school? How is that going? What sorts of activities are they doing there?
Showing posts with label oakvale high. Show all posts
Showing posts with label oakvale high. Show all posts
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Zombies Are Good at Stuff
Zombies really don't get the credit that they deserve, I have noticed. In fact, i would go so far as to say that there are many, many, many things that zombies do than he differently biotic. When I was helping the newlydead students get used to going to our school, I was often impressed at their hidden undead skill sets. Here is a short (and partial) list of things that I noticed that zombies are way better than us at:
*Sitting still (very, very still)
*Looking like they are paying attention
*Not talking in class
*Not taking unnecessary bathroom breaks
*Waiting patiently in line
*Keeping their hands to themselves
*Not running in the hallways
That's all for me right now. Can you think of any other ways that zombies distinguish themselves at your school? If so, post a comment! And don't forget to sign up on the Wall!
Bye!
Margi
*Sitting still (very, very still)
*Looking like they are paying attention
*Not talking in class
*Not taking unnecessary bathroom breaks
*Waiting patiently in line
*Keeping their hands to themselves
*Not running in the hallways
That's all for me right now. Can you think of any other ways that zombies distinguish themselves at your school? If so, post a comment! And don't forget to sign up on the Wall!
Bye!
Margi
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Another Newlydead Suspect Eliminated
It wasn't Travis, either.
Turns out he has a girlfriend back in his hometown somewhere in Long Island. I guess the schools aren't as welcoming to the undead there or something. Colette, who is Watson to my Sherlock, Robin to my Batman, Kato to my Clouseau (although her kung fu is weak!) overheard him bragging to his friends about his "wicked hot trad girlfriend" back on "the Island". She couldn't get close enough to see, but apparently he backed up his claims with some Facebook-ish type evidence.
"Yeah, right," says I. "The old 'girlfriend back at home' ploy. I ain't buyin' that snake oil, sistah!"
Sometimes, when I have a mystery to solve, I find that it helps to wear a fedora and talk tough like a 1940's L.A. gumshoe. I didn't have a fedora, though, just this really cute black with pink polka dots headband. Colette just looked at me like I was crazy.
"He had messages from her," she said. "And pictures."
"Right," I said. I decided that confrontation was the key.
"Hey, Trav," I said when we were walking to his next class, on what was supposed to be the last day of me chaperoning him, "I need to ask you..."
"Look," he said. "Before you hit on me, you should know I have a wicked hot girlfriend on the Island."
"What?" I said, and then he proceeded to tell me how he'd been seeing her for three years, they are in love, they will be together as soon as super-science finds a cure for zombiism, etc. etc. etc.
"Really, Travis? OMZ!"
"Look, Margi," he said. "Don't be sad. You are cute and all, but Bree and me...it's really love."
Grr. I wasn't hitting on him, for the record.
And now, to talk to Eric and find out what this kitty obsession is all about!
Turns out he has a girlfriend back in his hometown somewhere in Long Island. I guess the schools aren't as welcoming to the undead there or something. Colette, who is Watson to my Sherlock, Robin to my Batman, Kato to my Clouseau (although her kung fu is weak!) overheard him bragging to his friends about his "wicked hot trad girlfriend" back on "the Island". She couldn't get close enough to see, but apparently he backed up his claims with some Facebook-ish type evidence.
"Yeah, right," says I. "The old 'girlfriend back at home' ploy. I ain't buyin' that snake oil, sistah!"
Sometimes, when I have a mystery to solve, I find that it helps to wear a fedora and talk tough like a 1940's L.A. gumshoe. I didn't have a fedora, though, just this really cute black with pink polka dots headband. Colette just looked at me like I was crazy.
"He had messages from her," she said. "And pictures."
"Right," I said. I decided that confrontation was the key.
"Hey, Trav," I said when we were walking to his next class, on what was supposed to be the last day of me chaperoning him, "I need to ask you..."
"Look," he said. "Before you hit on me, you should know I have a wicked hot girlfriend on the Island."
"What?" I said, and then he proceeded to tell me how he'd been seeing her for three years, they are in love, they will be together as soon as super-science finds a cure for zombiism, etc. etc. etc.
"Really, Travis? OMZ!"
"Look, Margi," he said. "Don't be sad. You are cute and all, but Bree and me...it's really love."
Grr. I wasn't hitting on him, for the record.
And now, to talk to Eric and find out what this kitty obsession is all about!
Thursday, February 24, 2011
A Mystery...
So I ended up getting a valentine after all. It was a day late, but who's complaining? The valentine came in a little red envelope and had a pastel drawing of two kittens, the boy kitten (you could tell it was the boy kitten because it had a blue bow, and the girl kitten had a pink bow and long eyelashes) with his tiny forepaws clutched over his heart, and he was beseeching his sweetie to "Be my Valentine?". It looked like the sort of card you'd get by the bagful when you were in kindergarten or first grade and then, sadly, never get again in your life. And the card was signed...well, that's the mystery. It wasn't signed. It had been pushed through the gap in my locker until just the corner of it was sticking out.
I have three suspects--I mentioned a little while ago that I would be chaperoning a group of newlydead kids around the school? Three of them are boys, and I am pretty certain that the Valentine came from one of them. Which is very flattering at all but I assure you that I was very professional in my chaperoning and not flirtatious at all so I hope none of them got the wrong idea.
Meet the suspects--
Eric
Eric is very quiet and shy but he did tell me that he died because of a long illness. He didn't tell me what the illness was but I get the idea that he was bedridden or hospitalized for a long time; he is very frail and his skin tone is a shade paler than most zombies, even. He has very wide blue eyes that almost look too big for his face, but he doesn't let you look at them very long. We didn't get the chance to talk much but I know he really likes cartoons. I think he said Invader Zim was his favorite.
Travis
Travis is almost the polar opposite of Eric; he's one of the most outgoing zombies I've ever met. He apparently died as a result of a Jackass-style stunt he tried to do involving a dirt bike, a long ramp, and a woodpile. He said that he was impaled on a tree branch during the stunt and died, and then he asked me if I wanted to see the scar. Omz, no! He bla bla bla'd the whole time I spent walking him around--he talks so fast that he nearly sounds trad, and all of his stories involved some extreme activity he'd done--rock climbing in Utah, white water rafting in Colorado, shark hunting off the coast of Florida. His parents are "rich and still love him even though he's dead" and I wasn't sure which fact was more important that I understand.
I guess I'm kind of painting him out to be a blowhard but actually he was kind of funny once he settled down a bit. And although it sounds grisly and sick, he had a whole table of us--trad and zombie alike--laughing at the story of his death. Not many zombies have a sense of humor about that stuff so that at least was refreshing.
Luis
He's the mystery within the mystery, because he shared almost nothing with me. Eric was shy but he'd at least answer a question when you asked it; and unlike Eric, Luis would maintain eye contact an uncomfortably long time. Zombies do that, especially newlydeads who haven't regained much of their functionality, so I don't think he was being intentionally creepy. Plus he has really nice dark eyes and I bet it if he were still alive he'd be really good looking. That sounds really shallow and judgemental--he's still kind of good looking, but if he was alive he'd look even better. You get the idea. But I got almost nothing from Luis at all about his background. About the only thing that he said to me unprompted was "I like...your...bracelets...and your...hair," which was very sweet and nice of him and probably the only remotely flirty thing any of the three said to me the first week I was showing them around. But the Kitten Kard? Doesn't seem like his style, somehow.
So those are our suspects. What do you think? Who slipped the valentine into my locker? Eric? Travis? Luis? Or...someone else?
I'll share more clues as I discover them...
I have three suspects--I mentioned a little while ago that I would be chaperoning a group of newlydead kids around the school? Three of them are boys, and I am pretty certain that the Valentine came from one of them. Which is very flattering at all but I assure you that I was very professional in my chaperoning and not flirtatious at all so I hope none of them got the wrong idea.
Meet the suspects--
Eric
Eric is very quiet and shy but he did tell me that he died because of a long illness. He didn't tell me what the illness was but I get the idea that he was bedridden or hospitalized for a long time; he is very frail and his skin tone is a shade paler than most zombies, even. He has very wide blue eyes that almost look too big for his face, but he doesn't let you look at them very long. We didn't get the chance to talk much but I know he really likes cartoons. I think he said Invader Zim was his favorite.
Travis
Travis is almost the polar opposite of Eric; he's one of the most outgoing zombies I've ever met. He apparently died as a result of a Jackass-style stunt he tried to do involving a dirt bike, a long ramp, and a woodpile. He said that he was impaled on a tree branch during the stunt and died, and then he asked me if I wanted to see the scar. Omz, no! He bla bla bla'd the whole time I spent walking him around--he talks so fast that he nearly sounds trad, and all of his stories involved some extreme activity he'd done--rock climbing in Utah, white water rafting in Colorado, shark hunting off the coast of Florida. His parents are "rich and still love him even though he's dead" and I wasn't sure which fact was more important that I understand.
I guess I'm kind of painting him out to be a blowhard but actually he was kind of funny once he settled down a bit. And although it sounds grisly and sick, he had a whole table of us--trad and zombie alike--laughing at the story of his death. Not many zombies have a sense of humor about that stuff so that at least was refreshing.
Luis
He's the mystery within the mystery, because he shared almost nothing with me. Eric was shy but he'd at least answer a question when you asked it; and unlike Eric, Luis would maintain eye contact an uncomfortably long time. Zombies do that, especially newlydeads who haven't regained much of their functionality, so I don't think he was being intentionally creepy. Plus he has really nice dark eyes and I bet it if he were still alive he'd be really good looking. That sounds really shallow and judgemental--he's still kind of good looking, but if he was alive he'd look even better. You get the idea. But I got almost nothing from Luis at all about his background. About the only thing that he said to me unprompted was "I like...your...bracelets...and your...hair," which was very sweet and nice of him and probably the only remotely flirty thing any of the three said to me the first week I was showing them around. But the Kitten Kard? Doesn't seem like his style, somehow.
So those are our suspects. What do you think? Who slipped the valentine into my locker? Eric? Travis? Luis? Or...someone else?
I'll share more clues as I discover them...
Sunday, January 30, 2011
March of the Newlydeads
Busy week here at Oakvale High. We have like seventeen feet of snow on the ground (Okay, that's an exaggeration. A slight one) and we had two snow days and two delays this week. Plus, various sporting events and after school activities were cancelled. And everyone is in just a rotten mood. Rotten, rotten, rotten. I don't think anyone likes the snow except for maybe T.C., and the only reason that T.C. likes it is because there was a group of differently biotic kids coming up the icy concrete steps, and the maintenance staff hadn't done a very good job of sanding...and let's just say the results were not pretty. Unless you were T.C., who was standing on the sidewalk and pointing and laughing like that bully kid on the The Simpsons. And so I whipped out my mad ninja skillz and totally ginsued him with my flying fists of fury, and then I reduced him to a fine red mist with some Norrisian roundhouse kicks.
Except I don't really have mad ninja skillz. I do have mad notebook-decorating skillz, and crazy mad fashion skillz, but neither of those superhero-quality abilities seemed of use at the moment. So I just stuck my tongue out at him.
But not all of the week was bad. There are five, count them, five new newlydeads coming to school next week. Five! Omz! And guess who was appointed by Principal Kim to be the special Orientation Ambassador for these lucky, lucky students? That's right, yours truly. I'll get to show the new kids around the school and hang out and help them get acclimated and all that fun stuff. It should be fun, fun, fun!
Classes sure are getting crowded, though.
Except I don't really have mad ninja skillz. I do have mad notebook-decorating skillz, and crazy mad fashion skillz, but neither of those superhero-quality abilities seemed of use at the moment. So I just stuck my tongue out at him.
But not all of the week was bad. There are five, count them, five new newlydeads coming to school next week. Five! Omz! And guess who was appointed by Principal Kim to be the special Orientation Ambassador for these lucky, lucky students? That's right, yours truly. I'll get to show the new kids around the school and hang out and help them get acclimated and all that fun stuff. It should be fun, fun, fun!
Classes sure are getting crowded, though.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Living with the Dead
So now I have my very own login and password, courtesy of Mr. Tommy Williams. I asked him if he wanted to post anything and he said that he didn't really feel like it.
"Really?" I said. "But what about being the voice of the Dead Generation? What about all the people that supported you in your trip to Washington? Don't you want to update them on your, ah, life?"
He just stared at me. Whatever you do, don't try and win a staring contest with a zombie. Ain't gonna happen.
Some of you have asked about Phoebe posting as well; I wish I could give you an update but she's kind of not speaking to me because of my last post. I'm sure she already regrets giving me her password (remember kids: don't give out yer passwords), just as I'm sure Tommy will regret it in a couple days, too. Oh, well. She'll get over it. If I can't be me, I can't be me.
Colette is still talking to me, of course. She dyed half of her hair metallic blue and it looks super cool. I'll stick with pink, though.
Oakvale High Update: Classes are way way over-crowded now that the db kids have come back. There's got to be over thirty of us packed in a class now. And I get to sit next to that charmer, Popeye, in one of those classes. His real name is Chad, can you believe it? Chad Doyle. He absolutely flipped out when Mrs. Rodriguez called him Chad, though. He took off his sunglasses and everything. And his shirt, which was not a pretty sight, believe me, because he's done some really disgusting things--bodifications, he calls them--to himself. Like removed layers of skin right down to the muscle and stuff like that. Too nauseating to write about, really.
"Please put your glasses on, Popeye," Mrs. Rodriguez told him.
"Why?"
"You know why. And your shirt."
"I don't get it. Pinky Tuscadero over there gets to do whatever she wants to her hair, and gets to wear like three thousand bracelets, but I can't..."
"The school has a shirts and shoes policy, Popeye," Mrs. Rodriguez said, interrupting him. "And pants, before you get any ideas. It's all in the handbook."
"Oh, well, if it is in the handbook," he said. "That's like being in the Constitution itself. Or the Bible. The handbook. What about the sunglasses, Mrs. Rodriguez? I bet 'the handbook' has a policy on those as well, doesn't it? And the policy is that they need to come off."
He's such a jerk sometimes. He didn't even seem to notice that Tori Simmons was crying, she was so scared of him.
Mrs. Rodriguez sighed. "We're willing to make an exception for you," she said.
"Maybe I don't want to be the exception. Maybe I want to be the rule."
She told him that if he didn't sit down, put his glasses and shirt back on, and spend the rest of the class with his mouth closed and his hands neatly folded in front of him, she would make certain that he was suspended from school.
He complied, taking his time about it. I don't think he really cares about being suspended, but I think he wouldn't want to miss a few days of getting in people's faces and offending them.
He's in trouble all the time and the weird thing is I know he's trying to get into trouble. I think I'm pretty close to telling him off.
"Really?" I said. "But what about being the voice of the Dead Generation? What about all the people that supported you in your trip to Washington? Don't you want to update them on your, ah, life?"
He just stared at me. Whatever you do, don't try and win a staring contest with a zombie. Ain't gonna happen.
Some of you have asked about Phoebe posting as well; I wish I could give you an update but she's kind of not speaking to me because of my last post. I'm sure she already regrets giving me her password (remember kids: don't give out yer passwords), just as I'm sure Tommy will regret it in a couple days, too. Oh, well. She'll get over it. If I can't be me, I can't be me.
Colette is still talking to me, of course. She dyed half of her hair metallic blue and it looks super cool. I'll stick with pink, though.
Oakvale High Update: Classes are way way over-crowded now that the db kids have come back. There's got to be over thirty of us packed in a class now. And I get to sit next to that charmer, Popeye, in one of those classes. His real name is Chad, can you believe it? Chad Doyle. He absolutely flipped out when Mrs. Rodriguez called him Chad, though. He took off his sunglasses and everything. And his shirt, which was not a pretty sight, believe me, because he's done some really disgusting things--bodifications, he calls them--to himself. Like removed layers of skin right down to the muscle and stuff like that. Too nauseating to write about, really.
"Please put your glasses on, Popeye," Mrs. Rodriguez told him.
"Why?"
"You know why. And your shirt."
"I don't get it. Pinky Tuscadero over there gets to do whatever she wants to her hair, and gets to wear like three thousand bracelets, but I can't..."
"The school has a shirts and shoes policy, Popeye," Mrs. Rodriguez said, interrupting him. "And pants, before you get any ideas. It's all in the handbook."
"Oh, well, if it is in the handbook," he said. "That's like being in the Constitution itself. Or the Bible. The handbook. What about the sunglasses, Mrs. Rodriguez? I bet 'the handbook' has a policy on those as well, doesn't it? And the policy is that they need to come off."
He's such a jerk sometimes. He didn't even seem to notice that Tori Simmons was crying, she was so scared of him.
Mrs. Rodriguez sighed. "We're willing to make an exception for you," she said.
"Maybe I don't want to be the exception. Maybe I want to be the rule."
She told him that if he didn't sit down, put his glasses and shirt back on, and spend the rest of the class with his mouth closed and his hands neatly folded in front of him, she would make certain that he was suspended from school.
He complied, taking his time about it. I don't think he really cares about being suspended, but I think he wouldn't want to miss a few days of getting in people's faces and offending them.
He's in trouble all the time and the weird thing is I know he's trying to get into trouble. I think I'm pretty close to telling him off.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Detained!
Hello!
Tommy is letting me take the blog today. He's off studying (and for those that care, he got a 97 on the History test that Gamera tried to help him fail). He's such a smartie--I can't say that all the extra time I get with not sleeping has improved my study habits at all. I'm B minus all the way.
I manage to keep things interesting, though. On Friday on was given a detention by Principal Kim because the length of my skirt violated some arcane dress code policy. I tried to point out that my skirt was no shorter than those worn by the Oakvale High cheerleading squad, but that didn't get me anywhere. Then I told the principal that I was proud of her for not going easy on me because I was a zombie, that her universal and non-prejudicial application of stupid, outdated rules was to be commended.
She told me I better zip my lip and get to my next class if I didn't want her to double the detention.
Oh well. Time, I've got.
Tommy is letting me take the blog today. He's off studying (and for those that care, he got a 97 on the History test that Gamera tried to help him fail). He's such a smartie--I can't say that all the extra time I get with not sleeping has improved my study habits at all. I'm B minus all the way.
I manage to keep things interesting, though. On Friday on was given a detention by Principal Kim because the length of my skirt violated some arcane dress code policy. I tried to point out that my skirt was no shorter than those worn by the Oakvale High cheerleading squad, but that didn't get me anywhere. Then I told the principal that I was proud of her for not going easy on me because I was a zombie, that her universal and non-prejudicial application of stupid, outdated rules was to be commended.
She told me I better zip my lip and get to my next class if I didn't want her to double the detention.
Oh well. Time, I've got.
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