Letters to the Editor:



To Whom it May Concern: The amount of malaise evidenced by the student body of this establishment is a personal embarrassment to me and a disgrace to our generation. While the students of Albert Einstein High School sit around, planning their Senior Prom and whining about their finals, people in Tibet are DYING. Yes, DYING. Clashes continue between the rebels and the Chinese military, making it impossible for many Tibetans to make even a meagre living.

But what is our government doing to help the people of Tibet? Nothing more than advising tourists to stay away. People, the Tibetans make their living from tourists who come to climb the Himalayas. Please do not listen to our government's warnings

to avoid Tibet. Encourage your parents to allow you to vacation there this summer - you'll be glad you did.

Lilly Moscovitz

AEHS Food Court Menu


compiled by Mia Thermopolis



Monday


Spicy Chix

Meatball Sub

Fr. Bread Pizza

Potato Bar

Fish Fingers


Tuesday


Nachos Deluxe

Indiv. Pizza

Chicken Patite

Soup & Sand.

Tuna in Pita

Wednesday


Italian Beef

Deli Bar

Burrito

Taco Salad Bar

Corndog/Pickle

Thursday


Fish Stix

Pasta Bar

Chicken Pharm.

Asian Bar

Corn/FF

Friday


Soft Pretzel

Buffalo Bites

Grilled Cheese

Bean Bar

Curly Fries



 Take out your own personal ad!

Available to AEHS students at 50 cents/line



Happy Ad

Shop at Ho's Deli for all your school supply needs!

New this week: PAPER, BINDER CLIPS, TAPE.

Also Yu-Gi-Oh cards, Slimfast

For Sale:

One Fender precision bass, baby-blue, never been played.

With amp, how-to videos. Best Offer. Locker No. 345

Looking for Love:

Female frosh, loves romance/ reading, wants older boy who enjoys same.

Must be taller than 5'8", no mean people, non-smokers only,

musician preferred. NO METAL-HEADS, nice hands a must.

Email: Iluvromance@aehs.edu

Happy Ad

Personal to from BP to LM -I'm sorry for what I did, but I want you to know that I still love you.

PLEASE meet me by my locker after school today and allow me to express my devotion to you.

Lilly, you are my muse. Without you, the music is gone. Please don't let our love die this way.

Happy Ad

From CF to GD: YES!!!!!!!!!!!

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JR, I am SO excited about the prom, I can't STAND it, we are going to have SO MUCH FUN.

I feel SO SORRY for the rejects who aren't going to the prom. Isn't that just too bad for them?

They'll be sitting around at home while you and I are DANCING THE NIGHT AWAY!

I love you SOOOOOOOO much. LW

Happy Ad

LW - Right back atcha, babe -JR









Wednesday, May 7, Algebra


Well, I did it. I can't say it went over very well - in fact, it did not go over AT ALL well. But I did it. No one can say

I didn't do EVERYTHING POSSIBLE to try to get my boyfriend to take me to his prom.

Oh, God, but WHY did it have to be LANA WEINBERGER???? WHY???? I mean, ANYBODY else -Melanie Greenbaum, even. But no. It had to be Lana. I had to grovel to LANA WEINBERGER.

Oh, God, my skin is still crawling.

She was so not receptive to my offer, either. You would have thought I was asking her to strip naked and sing the school

song in the middle of lunch (no, wait - Lana probably wouldn't mind doing that).

I got to class early, because I know Lana usually likes to get there before the second bell to make a few calls on her mobile. There she was, all right, the only person in the room, yakking away to someone named Sandy about her prom dress - she

really did get a black ofF-one-shoulder one with a butterfly hem from Nicole Miller (I so hate her). Anyway, I went up to her - which I think was VERY brave of me considering every time I fall under Lana's radar she makes some catty personal remark about my physical appearance. But whatever. I just stood there next to her desk while she yammered into the phone, until she finally realized I wasn't going away. Then she went, 'Hold on a minute, will you, Sandy? There's a ... person who wants something.' Then she held the phone away from her face, looked up at me with those big baby blues of hers, and went, 'WHAT?'

'Lana,' I said. I swear, I have sat next to the Emperor of Japan, OK? I once shook the hand of Prince William. I even stood next to Imelda Marcos in line for the Ladies' Room at The Producers. But none of those events ever made me as nervous as Lana does with a mere glance. Because of course Lana has made tormenting me a special personal hobby of hers. That kind

of terror runs deeper than the fear of meeting emperors or princes or dictators' wives.

'Lana,' I said again, trying to get my voice to stop shaking. 'I need to ask you something.'

'No,' Lana said, and got back on to her mobile.

'I haven't even asked you yet,' I cried.

'Well, the answer is still no,' Lana said, tossing around her shiny blonde hair. 'Now, where was I? Oh yes, so I am fully

getting body-glitter and putting it on my - no, not there, Sandy! You are so bad.'

'It's just . . .' I had to talk fast because, of course, there was a strong chance Michael was going to stop by the Algebra classroom on his way to AP English, as he does almost every day. I did not want him to know what I was up to. '. . . I know you're on the Prom Committee, and I really think this year's senior class deserves live music at their prom, and not just a DJ. That's why I was thinking you should ask Skinner Box to play.'

Lana went, 'Hold on, Sandy. That person still hasn't gone away.' Then she looked at me from between her thickly mascaraed eyelashes and went, 'Skinner Box? You mean that band of geeks who played that stupid princess-of-my-heart song to you

on your birthday?'

I said, taking umbrage, 'Excuse me, Lana, but you shouldn't speak so disparagingly of geeks. If it were not for geeks, we

would not have computers, or vaccinations against many major diseases, or antibiotics, or even that mobile you are talking into—'

'Yeah,' Lana said briskly. 'Whatever. The answer is still no.'

Then she went back to her phone conversation.

I stood there for a minute, feeling colour rush into my face. I must really be making progress with my impulse control, since I didn't reach out and grab her mobile from her and crush it beneath my Doc Martens as I might once have. Being the proud owner of a mobile phone myself now, I know just how completely heinous doing something like that would be. Also, you know, considering how much trouble I got into the last time I did it.

Instead, I just stood there with my cheeks burning and my heart beating really fast and my breath coming out in these shallow little gasps. It seems like no matter what kind of strides I make in the rest of my life - you know, behaving with level-headed calmness in medical emergencies; knighting people; almost getting to second base with my boyfriend - I still can't seem to

figure out how to act around Lana. I just don't get why she hates me so much. I mean, what did I ever DO to her? Nothing.

Well, except for the whole mobile phone stomping thing. Oh, and that time I stabbed her with a Nutty Royale. And that other time I slammed her hair in my Algebra book. But I mean, besides all that.

Anyway, I didn't get a chance to get on my knees and beg her, because the second bell rang, and people started coming into the classroom, including Michael, who came up to me and gave me a bunch of pages he'd printed off the Internet about the dangers of dehydration in pregnant women - 'To give to your mom,' he said, kissing me on the cheek (yes, in front of

everyone: Tcha).

Still, there are shadows over my otherwise exuberant joy: one shadow is, I was unsuccessful in getting my boyfriend's band booked for the prom, thus making it more likely than ever that I will never have my Pretty in Pink moment with Michael. Another shadow is that my best friend is still not speaking to me, nor I to her, because of her psychotic behaviour and mistreatment of her former boyfriend. Yet another shadow is the fact that my first actual published news story ever in The Atom reads so incredibly lamely (although they did publish my poem ... TRES TRES TCHA. Even if I'm the only one who knows it's mine). It isn't exactly my fault my story sucks so much, though. I mean, Lesley hardly gave me enough time to come up with something truly Pulitzer-prize worthy. I'm no Nellie Bly or Ida M. Tarbell, you know. I had a lot of other homework

to do, too.

Finally, everything is overshadowed by my fear that my mother might pass out again, next time not within sight of Assistant

Fire Chief Logan and the rest of Ladder Company Number Three, and of course by my overall dread that, for two whole months this summer, I will be leaving this fair city and everyone in it for the distant shores of Genovia.

Really, if you think about it, this is all entirely too much for one simple fifteen-year-old girl to bear. It is a wonder I have been able to maintain what little composure I have left, under the circumstances.

When adding or subtracting terms that have the same variables, combine the coefficients.











Wednesday, May 7, Gifted and Talented

STRIKE!!!!!!!!!!

They just announced it on TV Mrs. Hill is letting us crowd around the one in the Teachers' Lounge.

I have never been in the Teachers' Lounge before. It is actually not very nice. There are weird stains on the carpet.

But whatever. The point is that the hotel-workers' union has just joined the busboys in their strike. The restaurant union is expected to follow suit shortly. Which means that there will be no one working in the restaurants or the hotels of New York City. The entire metro area could be shut down. The financial loss from tourism and conventions could be in the billions.

And all because of Rommel.

Seriously. Who knew one little hairless dog could cause so much trouble?

To be fair, it is actually not Rommel's fault. It is Grandmere's. I mean, she never should have brought a dog into a restaurant in the first place, even if it IS OK in France. It was weird to see Lilly on TV I mean, I see Lilly on TV all the time, but this was a major network - well, I mean, it was New York One, which isn't exactly national or anything, but it's watched in more households than Manhattan Public Access, anyway. Not that Lilly was running the press conference. No, it was being run by the heads of the hotel and restaurant unions. But if you looked to the left of the podium, you could see Jangbu standing there, with Lilly at his side, holding a big sign that said LIVING WAGES FOR LIVING BEINGS.

She is so busted. She has an unexcused absence for the day. Principal Gupta will be so calling the Drs Moscovitz tonight.

Michael just shook his head disgustedly at the sight of his sister on a channel other than Fifty-Six. I mean, he is fully on the side of the busboys - they SHOULD be paid a living wage, of course. But Michael is disgusted with Lilly. He says it's because her interest in the welfare of the busboys has more to do with her interest in Jangbu than in the plight of immigrants to this country.

I kind of wish Michael hadn't said anything, though, because you know Boris was sitting right there next to the TV He looks so pathetic with his head all bandaged and everything. He kept lifting up his hand when he thought no one was looking, and softly tracing Lilly's features on the screen. It was truly touching, to tell you the truth. I actually got tears in my eyes for a minute.

Although they went away when I realized that the TV in the Teachers' Lounge is forty inches, whereas all the TVs in the

student media room are only twenty-seven.










Wednesday, May 7, The Plaza




This is unbelievable. I mean, truly. When I walked into the hotel lobby today, all ready for my princess lesson with