Friday, December 20, 2002

My house is full of rowdy drunken teachers...

... and I'm okay with that. Actually, I'm not that fond of the annual party my mother throws for the teachers from the school where she works. The news that the party is coming is usually the start of at least two, maybe three days of intense house cleaning as well as stress over holiday decorations, food, and how-not-to-look-slutty-and-yet-still-freak-out-your-3rd-grade-teacher. So now my sisters are hiding in the back of the house playing video games, and I am sitting here listening to the teachers laugh loudly and lustily in the next room. What's even worse is when the younger teachers bring their dates, cause then you have a bunch of strange men in the house hitting on you in a parental sort of way, which is really disgusting. Especially because of the fact that they'll probably be dumped in the very near future for said flirting. Ick.

What I really need is my boyfriend to get up here and flirt with me instead. Then all the icky teacher-date men can go to hell.

I can't wait until the 28th.

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