Comic Prodigy?

There it was, scrawled on my English paper, in the bright violet pen of my teacher: 'Fantastic!  You are a comic prodigy.'
For a few blessed moments, my confidence swelled.  I was funny!  My teacher enjoyed the column assignment I wrote about advice for incoming grade nines!!
Then she passed out the next assignment-- a magazine due in three weeks.  "I expect higher quality writing from all of you," she said.  Her eyes gleamed.  I'm sure it was actually an innocent, eager gleam, one that said she couldn't wait to read our creative nonfiction magazine pieces.  But to me, it just looked evil. I was instantly reminded of the medusa-like stare of last year's Spanish teacher.  How can I possibly be expected to keep being funny throughout a whole magazine?  There are only so many cracks I can make about one specific topic.  All it's going to do if I try to be witty more than naturally possible for any human being is give me a huge, largely unhumorous (is that a word?) headache.
I've already said I'm dyslexic.  I'm not a quick thinker.  Words don't look right to me, and I can't focus on them.  With Camp Nanowrimo still going on, the last thing I need is a major writing project.
Also, what's up with these huge writing projects at the end of English classes?  Last year, we had to get in groups and shoot a movie trailer about a book we had read on our own time.  That project was at least fun.  I got to use stage makeup to give my best friend a beard and mustache, and hang her over a bridge so she dangled above a creek.  All of this was done in the middle of the woods, by the way.  This project will be done in my room, on the computer- where there are distractions that include this blog, where I am currently complaining about homework instead of doing it.
Which is why I now need to hit post before I waste further time.

Happy Easter!

So things have been pretty hectic in the Emerson household the past few days.  For one, we're hosting Easter Dinner, which means that my mom is temporarily nuts.  "Clean!  Hold this!  Are you busy?  Come help me!"
On Saturday morning, between homework assignments because my teachers like assigning things over holiday weekends, I did a little reading and stuck one arm of my glasses inside my book.  I do it all the time, but my mom hates it.  Later, when I came back, my glasses were sitting on the table next to the book, which had a slip of paper with writing on it stuck inside as a bookmark.
I took out the paper.
It was my chore list.
Mom one, me zero.

It's going to snow tonight.

I would like to remind you all that it is April.  2 inches of snow in April.  Yesterday, it was 75 degrees Fahrenheit -which I finally know how to spell- and it is now in the thirties.
Welcome to the Upper Midwest.
That is all.
Oh!!!  But I've started listening to Welcome to Night Vale.  If you've never heard of it, you're missing out.  It's this really great podcast about a small desert town in America where every conspiracy theorie is actually true, and odd events are presented in the form of a mundane town radio show.  I recommend it 100%.  If you don't want to download the podcast, just go to Tunein radio online.  If you search "Listen to welcome to night vale online," it should be within the first few results.  Sorry about the choppy, robotic post, but I'm tired.  I ran 5 kilometers today, did several endurance (read: kill) exercises, and I am utterly exhausted.
Also, does anyone know how to do tabs for different blog topics on one blog?  I want to start a science and a writing section and I can't figure it out.

The nonstop usage of my brain

Bad Anna.  Bad.  You haven't posted in almost TWO WEEKS.

Yes, I know; bad Anna.  But between being incapacitated with the stomach flu, dodging April Fool's Day jokes, and shouting orders as my brother created a puddle of poison on our kitchen floor, I just haven't had time to!!

I would have posted a week ago, because I had nothing to do, but I was instead curled up on my bed shivering under blankets, holding my stomach, and being unable to look at the computer screen without throwing up... you've all been there.  Anyways, that lasted from Sunday to Monday, then went away and came back for Wednesday- thank God it's finally over.  I also got a text message on Tuesday asking this: "Why weren't you at school yesterday?  Angie said you were sick."  ...Wow.  Really?  I still haven't answered that one and I'm not going to.  I did, however, get a good laugh out of it so I suppose it was worth something.

Tuesday.  My friends kept making jokes how I had just faked being sick the day before so I could plan April Fool's Day jokes instead of having to go to school.  In reality, I hadn't planned anything, and sat on two whoopee cushions, had a 'kick me' note taped on my back, and was told that the history teacher had given a huge test the day I missed that I now had to make up "today, or be in huge trouble'.  I did nothing in return.  Man!!  Being sick totally destroyed my planning days.  I was the first one to hug someone and put a kick me note on their back, and last year I fixed the sink so the faucet would shoot water straight at whoever used it, and dipped my brother's toothbrush in water.  I had planned on making a toilet paper gun this year, but that fell through like everything else.  Oh, well- next year... >:) What are some of the April Fool's Day jokes you're most proud of?

Oh, yes- and on Thursday I came home from school to find, I kid you not, fifty ants converged on our kitchen floor.  I could barely even see what they were eating and I guess I'll never know what it was.  I called my mom, and she said it was fine to spray the bug poison inside as long as I only used a very little bit.  While I was getting the can, my brother came home and the dog barked to come in from outside.  We couldn't let him walk through poison, so we decided to barricade him in one room until we could wipe I up.  I had the phone in one hand, and wiped the mud off the dog's feet with the other, thinking my brother was setting up a blockade for the dog as I had told him to.  I let go of the dog, and he walked through the poison.  My brother was giggling as he sprayed literally a 2-foot puddle of poison all over the floor.  We had to open all the windows just to breathe, and even then we all had a headache.  Oh, and we had to clean the dog's feet again.  All this with the phone in one hand.  Thank you for your help and cooperation, brother.

Do you forgive me for not posting?