Defn: When integer is squared the result is called a perfect square.

Tuesday, January 19th,

Health and Safety



This is so boring - MT


You're telling me. How many times in our academic careers are they going to tell us having unprotected sex

can result in unwanted pregnancy and AIDS? Do they think it didn't soak in the first jive thousand times or something? - LM

Apparently. Hey, did you see Mr Wheeton open the door to the teachers' lounge, look at Mademoiselle Klein, then leave? He is so obviously in love with her.

I know, you can slightly tell, he is always bringing her lattesfrom Ho's. What is THAT about, if not luv?

Wahim will be devastated if they start going out.

Yeah, but why would she choose Mr Wheeton over Wahim? Wahim has all those muscles. Not to mention a gun.

Who can explain the vagaries of the human heart. Not I. Oh, my God, look, he's moving on to vehicular

safety. Could this BE more boring? Let's make a list. You start it.

OK

Mia Thermopolis's *New and Improved* List of Hottest Guys

(with commentary by Lilly Moscovitz):



1. Michael Moscovitz (obviously cannot agree due to genetic link to said individual. Will concede he is not 

    hideously deformed)

2. Ioan Gruffud from the Horatio Hornblower series (agreed. He can shiver me timbers anytime he wants)

3. The guy who plays Clark Kent in Smallville (duh - only they should have him join the school swimming

    team because he needs to take his shirt off more per episode)

4. Hayden Christiansen (again, duh. Ditto swimming team. There must be one for Jedis. Even ones who

    have embraced the Dark Side)

5. Mr. Rochester (fictional character, but will agree he exudes certain rugged manliness)

6. Patrick Swayze (urn, not. So not. What is WRONG with you????)

7. Captain von Trapp from The Sound of Music (another fictional character, but the captain is a hottie 

    extraordinaire. I would pit him against the Nazi horde anytime)

8. Justin Baxendale (duh. I heard an eleventh-grader tried to kill herself because he looked at her. Seriously.

    Like his eyes were so hypnotic, she went full-on Sylvia Plaih. She is in counselling now)

9. Heath Ledger (oooh, in the rock and roll knight movie, totally. Not so much The Patriot, though, I found

    his performance in that film somewhat stilted. Plus he never took his shirt off).

10. Beast from Beauty and the Beast (I think I know someone else who needs counselling)

Tuesday, January 19th,

Gifted and Talented




I am so depressed.

I know I shouldn't be. I mean, everything in my life is going so great:



Great Thing Number One:

The boy I have been madly in love with my entire life, practically, loves, or at least really likes, me back, and we are going

out on our first real date on Friday.



Great Thing Number Two:

I know it is only the first day of the new semester, but as yet I am not flunking anything, including Algebra.



Great Thing Number Three:

I am no longer in Genovia, the most boring place on the entire planet with the possible exception of Algebra, and

Grandmere's princess lessons.



Great Thing Number Four:

I don't have Kenny for my Bio. partner any more. My new partner is Shameeka - what a relief. Which I know is cowardly (feeling relieved that I don't have to sit by Kenny any more), but I am pretty sure Kenny thinks I am this horrible person to

have led him on, like, all those months, when really I liked someone else (only thankfully not the person Kenny THOUGHT

I liked. I still can't believe Kenny dumped me because he thought I was in love with Boris Pelkowski). Anyway, the fact that

I don't have to deal with any hostile looks from Kenny's direction (even though he fully has a new girlfriend, a girl from our

Bio. class, as a matter of fact - he didn't waste any time) is probably really going to boost my grade in that class. Plus Shameeka is really good at science, on account of her being a Pisces.



Great Thing Number Five:

I have really cool friends who seem actually to want to hang around with me, and not just because I am a princess, either.

But that, see, is the problem. I have all these great things going for me, and I should be totally happy. I should be over the

moon with joy.

And maybe it's only the jet lag talking - I am so tired, I can barely keep my eyes open - or maybe it's PMS - I am sure my internal clock is way messed up from all this intercontinental flying. But I can't shake this feeling that I am . . .

Well, a total reject.

And I will tell you why I feel this way. I mean, take Gifted and Talented class, for example:

WHAT AM I DOING IN HERE????

I am not gifted. I am not talented. I am not good at anything. Really. I have no gifts or special talents. I AM A POSER.

I SHOULD NOT BE HERE.

It hit me today at lunch. I was sitting there like always with Lilly and Boris and Tina and Shameeka and Ling Su, and then Michael came and sat down with us, which of course caused this total cafeteria sensation, since seniors NEVER sit at the freshman tables.

And I was totally embarrassed but of course proud and pleased, too, because Michael NEVER sat at our table back when

he and I were just friends, so his sitting there MUST mean that he is at least slightly in love with me, because it is quite a sacrifice to give up the intellectual talk at the table where he normally sits for the kinds of talks we have at my table, which

are generally, like, in-depth analyses of last night's episode of Charmed and how cute Rose McGowan's halter top was or whatever.

But Michael was totally a good sport about it, even though he thinks Charmed is facile. And I really did try to steer the conversation around to things a guy would like, such as Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Milla Jojovich.

Only it turned out I didn't even need to, because Michael is like one of those peppered moths we read about in Bio.

You know, the ones that turned black when the tree bark they were camouflaged against got all sooty during the industrial revolution? He can totally adapt to any situation, and feel at ease. This is an amazing talent that I wish I had. Maybe if I

did, I wouldn't feel so out of place at meetings of the Genovian Olive Growers' Association.

Anyway, today at the lunch table, someone brought up cloning, and everyone was talking about who would you clone if you could clone anyone, and people were saying like Albert Einstein so he could come back and tell us the meaning of life and

stuff, or Jonas Salk so he could find a cure for cancer, and Mozart so he could finish his last requiem (whatever, that one

was Boris's, of course), or Madame Pompadour so she could give us all tips on romance (Tina) or Jane Austen so she

could write scathingly about current social mores and we could all benefit from her cutting wit (Lilly).

And then Michael said he would clone Kurt Cobain, because he was a musical genius who was taken too young. And then

he asked me who I would clone, and I couldn't think of anyone, because there really isn't anyone dead that I would want to bring back, except maybe Grandpa, but how creepy would that be? And Grandmere would probably freak. So I just said

Fat Louie, because I love Fat Louie and wouldn't mind having two of him around.


Only nobody looked very impressed by this except for Michael who said, 'That's nice,' which he probably only said

because he is my boyfriend.

But, whatever, I could deal with that, I am totally used to being the only person I know who sits through Empire Records every time it comes on TBS and who thinks it is one of the best movies ever made - after Star Wars and Dirty Dancing

and Say Anything and Pretty Woman, of course. Oh, and Tremors and Twister.

I am content to keep secret the fact that I must watch the Miss America Pageant every single year without fail, even though

I know it is degrading to women and not a scholarship fund, considering no one bigger than a size ten ever gets into it.

I mean, I know these things about myself. It is just the way I am. And though I have tried to improve myself by watching award-winning movies such as Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and Gladiator, I don't know, I just don't like them. Everybody dies at the end and besides, if there isn't any dancing or explosions, it is very difficult for me to pay attention.

So, OK, I accept these things about myself. They are just me. Like I am good at English and not so good at Algebra. Whatever.

But it wasn't until we got to Gifted and Talented today, after lunch, and Lilly started working on the shot list for this week's episode of her cable access show, Lilly Tells It Like It Is, and Boris got out his violin and started playing a concerto (sadly

not in the supply closet because they still haven't put the door back on it), and Michael put on headphones and started

working on a new song for his band, that I realized it:

I have no special talent. I have no gift. In fact, if it weren't for the fact that I am a princess, I would be the most ordinary

person alive.

I mean, all my friends have these incredible things they can do: Lilly knows everything there is to know and isn't shy about saying it in front of a camera. Michael can not only play guitar and, like, fifty other instruments including the piano and drums, but he can also design whole computer programs. Boris has been playing his violin at sold-out Carnegie Hall concerts since

he was eleven years old, or something. Tina Hakim Baba can read, like, a book a day. Shameeka knows everything there is

to know about makeup and amoebas and Ling Su is an extremely talented artist.

But me?

Yeah, I can't do anything. I mean, nothing really well. Nothing better than anybody else.

I am just blah. I do not know why Michael even likes me, I am so talentless and boring. I mean, I guess it's a good thing my destiny as the monarch of a nation is sealed, because if I had to go apply for a job somewhere, I so fully wouldn't get it, because I'm not good at anything.

So here I am, sitting in Gifted and Talented, and there really is no getting around this basic fact:

I, Mia Thermopolis, am neither gifted nor talented.

WHAT AM I DOING IN HERE????? I DO NOT BELONG HERE!!!! I BELONG IN TECH. ED.!!!! OR DOMESTIC ARTS!!!!! I SHOULD BE MAKING A BIRDHOUSE OR A PIE!!!!

Just as I was writing this, Lilly leaned over and went, 'Oh my God, what is wrong with you? You look like you just ate a

sock,' which is what we say whenever someone looks super depressed, because that is how Fat Louie always looks

whenever he accidentally eats one of my socks and has to go to the vet to have it surgically removed.

Fortunately, Michael didn't hear her on account of having his headphones on. I would never have been able to confess

in front of him what I confessed then to his sister, which is that I am a big talentless phoney.

'And they only put me in this class in the first place because I was flunking Algebra,' I told her.

And she went, 'You have a talent.'

I stared at her, my eyes wide and, I am afraid, filled with tears. 'Oh, yeah, what?' I was really scared I was going to cry.

It must be PMS or something, because I was practically ready to start bawling.

But to my disappointment, all Lilly said was, 'Well, if you can't figure it out, I'm not going to tell you.' When I protested this,

she went: 'Part of the journey of achieving self-actualization is that you have to reach it on your own, without help or guidance from others. Otherwise, you won't feel as keen a sense of accomplishment. But I will give you a hint: Right now, your talent