Well, isn't this nice?

I'm using this nice little tool to blog from my e-mail! This is coollll!!! I like it. Though...it's useless. Okay, enough of this. Time for bed!



=]



life'sgood

"I wish they could make one a heart..."

Off to Memorial Park! Stupid me forgot to change into jeans before I went, so I'm there, freezing, with shorts. Heck, at least I had a sweatshirt. Once Chiara got to the port-a-potty, and finnished doing God knows what in that disgusting contraption, Jess, Chiara and myself hit the rides. We went on the Cliff Hanger, again. Twice, at that. Mrs. Waters was there, too, with her son. We got our pictures...taken...for some reason. The second time, Ian was behind us. He attempted to tell us how amazing the typhoon ride was. No one was actually listening. I just kept saying things like "I LOVE YOU IAN! YEAH. WOO IAN!!!" Chiara soon joined along. Then, oh boy. Then I talked Spanish to the...er...... PEOPLE there. Yeah, that's it. One of them heard me and gave me this weird look. So, we were like idiots, on this ride, and I was screaming at the top of my lungs, "ARRIBA!!!!!!! HOLAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!! ME GUSTA MUCHO!" Chiara joined there, too. Jess must have thought I was a complete idiot. Heck, I am, aren't I? We also heard the people testing fireworks while we were on the ride. OH OH OH!!! Then we went on that boat. Well, okay. Both rides, in my opinion, ESPECIALLY cliff-hanger went faster. Cliff hanger went way faster, and much longer, without a doubt.  So, thennnn we got MOUNTAIN DEW. WOOO. Andddd.... oh. Yeah. 3 fried dough, right here, please! Mine...mysteriously exploded all over my chest...hmmmm... with powdered sugar that is still in the sweatshirt. I'm going to have to wash that tonight. That was very...unpleseant...and tasteless. Not funny. But then we watched the fireworks! I want to go on the orbiter =[. The fireworks this year were rather spectacular. Much better compared to any previous year. The cotton candy was, well...cotton candy-ish. With it all, are the memories of a fantastic day...with a song I didn't expect to get stuck in my head. 

"IT EVEN HAS A CLIMAX! LISTEN!!!"

-shimly

=]

The first time I didn't mourn a death...

It's 11:15 P.M., on this beautiful Friday night. I'm watching the Yanke game, and they're winning 3-0. (Well, for now.) Well, I go to turn on my Zune. (Make that  4-0... No, wait, they don't know if it was a home-run. No, it's not.) I see nothing but a huge ZUNE logo. Then I see... (okay, now its 5-0), I see... "5. Contact Support" with a picture of a zune and a big "X" on its screen. Wonderful. SECOND TIME. SECOND TIME!!!! Never again. I like iPod Videos, thank you very much.

Back to Best Buy!

“Love may exist without jealousy, although this is rare; but jealousy may exist without love, and this is common”

Well, the carnival is in town! Everything is nuts. I can see everyone running/skateboarding/driving/wallowing/trudging/JUST GOING to the park from my window. (You kind of almost have to walk down my street to get in.) Well, I went two nights ago, and Jess and Meghan were there. I hung around with them. Okay, I learned something new. Rule #1: When with Jess, if she says get on a ride, DO IT. If you don't...ahhh....there is no, "If you don't." She yanked us with her to go on this ride. Well, Meghan and I have this phobia of amusement rides. We...pretended not to, but kept giving eachother astranged looks. Yes, we were scared. And it was only the CLIFFHANGER! What's there to be afraid of? Well, it spins, not too fast, but quite fast, and, at its peak, hits about a 65-degree angle. So, we were scared. Oh, and nothing is really holding you in but a large metal knob...in a very uncomfortable spot. So, pull towards the front as hard as you can. Or...you will be in pain, gentlemen. This ride, seemingly harmless when I first saw it, was obviously nocuous. My good Lord, you would think you would fling off one of those arms, and off into the woods. Dead. Either that, or on the decline, your feet would hit the gate behind you. Ah, so so so scary. WELL. SHE WASN'T SCARED ONE BIT. She made me go on this monstrosity. Well, to make a laborious story short, Meghan and I did it. And I want to go back. I might go in a bit to ride it again =]. FUNNEL CAKE, ANYONE?

Can it be?!?!?!?!

SUMMER. SUMMER!!! SUMMER IS HERE!!!!!!! NO MORE WORK. NONE OF THAT!!!

The award ceremony...while quite a nice event, it wasted a huge chunk of my life. It was extremely boring, but very nice, orated by the well-known Madame Filingeri. "Sorry if you can hear my accent." I was actually very intrigued. Yes, weirdo. I like her accent a lot. Well, then I went to town. And now its raining. But it's SUMMER. SUMMER RAIN SHOWERS. YAY!!!!

Enjoy the Summer! I don't have much time to blog, I really want to go have fun. 

SO7

Wooh, woooohhh!

Wow, what a dork I am. I just got really excited over absolutely nothing. Mmm, weird. Well, anyway, moving along, quickly.

School is a JOKE. Well, for tomorrow, anyway. I got a 90 on that math A final. Not what I'd hoped. Nearly the entire class got higher. It was SO EASY. A lot of stupid mistakes. I think I should pay attention to what numbers I punch into a calculator. And then someone got a 100, which really makes me feel great. Well, anyway, the school year is winding down. Tomorrow, nothing is planned for any class, except Spanish. That would be Proficiency review. I'm fine with that, though. I had the duty of grading practice proficiencies. It was set up like this:

1 scantron.

3 proficiency exams.

30 questions on each.

90 questions in total.

I graded only about 5 or 6 papers, but they were, for the most part, good. Well, okay. One was horrible. I think they guessed on theirs. I would only hope so. They....(Can't say who, and one person knows. If you post their name, you're dead) got a 43. Yes. 43 on a PROFICIENCY. While I may not speak la Français, I do know that such a grade is horrible, even for the Frenchies. I, for one, consider the Spanish language easier to learn. While "Comrade" Chiara believes...well I'm not sure. HEY, COMRADE CHIARA. LET ME KNOW. Well, anyway. I think it's easier to learn. My grandfather said that, too. I mean, English by far is one of the toughest languages to master. Look at us! In 8th grade, still taking the stupid stuff. That, and Urdu are considered hardest. Don't ask how I know these things. 

It's such an awe-inspiring day outside. Allow me to paint a picture for you. The Sun gently glows upon the horizon, as I see it at the moment. It barely peeks over the gently-rolling vista. The wind blows very gently, through the trees, as it kisses your skin. The ominous clouds in the sky seem to be surverying the landscape, waiting for just the right spot to allow themselves to do their job. The beautiful...presumably maple tree afore my window leans, gently, as if needing rest. There is nothing but pure, untouched, genuine silence on the street before me. The low, soft music playing in the background seems to be carrying on a soliloquy. No, for once it actually isn't American Baby by Dave Matthews Band. The people walking on the sidewalk race past each other, as the lady just dropped her pocketbook. Being the gentleman he should, he reached down, and said "Here you are, Ma'am." They then carried on a colloquy. Goodness is so scarce in today's society, so truly appreciating any that you receive will make your life, and the person that bestowed you with such a benevolent act will make both of your times worth while. The sun has finally seemed to creep under the horizon, as its beams of light just pass over our heads. (Oh, great. Mr. Mesic!!! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO TEACH US WHY SUNSET AND SUNRISES ARE REDDISH?) A final regents packet is glaring at me from the desk in front of me. It seems to be saying "HEHE. YOU ARE GOING TO FAIL, SO WHY BOTHER, MARC-ANTHONY SERRANO. Wellllllll....enough of that.

Tomorrow I might have some review with peopleeeee. Might. Might. Might. It would be fun if we did, though. I mean, okay. 4 dorks, 8 regents exams. Wait, Jess, what's 4 x 2 again? Oh, right. 6 or something. I took that Math A final, so I, quite frankly, could not care less about math. Like Jess said, we probably won't ever really need what we're being taught. I mean, okay, I shouldn't be so harsh on math. We need it for the Regents on Tuesday. All 3 hours of it. That's right, ladies and gentlemen. This is not your normal exam. The state mandates a full 3 hours be given for it, and no one is to leave the examination area in this time period. And if you don't sign the lovely waiver, your grade is conviniently a goose-egg. I wonder...what does a teacher do, if they grade all 80-something questions, extended response, multiple choice, and short answer, along with those pesky diagrams, and it takes them forever, because you have handwrigin as monstrous as Cody Ramos, or...ehh...not naming anyone else. Or, you know, "feminine italicized" handwriting, which, so you know, I will NOT be using. Oh, and then NYS requires we use PEN. Have you ever trusted a nose-picking, loser 8th grader with a PEN? I'm not one of those people, but for those that are. WHAT DO THEY DO WITH THE PEN. Well, here is a synopsis. Well, it looks tempting enough...so they stick it up their nose, and twirl it around. Twirl until the nose starts bleeding, or they pull out enough GUNK to form a marble with. Saliva can serve as glue, you know. So then, they stick said gunk ball on the answer sheet, over answers 7, 8, 9, and 10. Well, good. No writing space. So, the OCD freak then vigorously draws arrows to the spot where they put thair answers. Oh, but then guess what? There are TOO MANY ARROWS. So the graders eyes are about to explode, and smoke is coming out of their ears. The number is partially ocvered up. So, thinking the grader will notice this, the idiotic student then incribes the GUNK. "A". With a twirly thing on the bottom, because he/she couldn't get the gunk off! Then, while shaking the pen, they make a million marks in the answer sheet. WHAT DO THEY DO NOW? Well, the pen went flying. Great. No pen, and someone is conviniently bleeding from their right eye. Great. All over the paper. So they scream, jump up, and try to run out of the Band room, while Mr. Mesic body-slams them. They fall. While on the ground, you here the fading-in in yell of Mr. Ronzoni. About 10 seconds later, he gets to them, and decides to body-slam the student. "YOU CAN'T LEAVE. STANDARDIZED TEST. YOUR PAPER CUT WILL HAVE TO WAIT," Mr. Mesic says crossly. So, the student returns, with a pen conviniently protruding from their right eye, as I said before. The other student rudely takes it out. Great. A paper with GUNK and blood, the other with blood, and possibly shards of glass from the glasses they were wearing. This causes the student facing them to regurgitate all over his, his exam, as well as the one belonging to the student next to them. The smell of vomit fills the band room. Mr. Mesic calls down Mr. Jackson to get the box of tissues from a super-secret locked box, labeled "RGNTS, '05, YO." so, he gets it. Only problem. Mr. Jackson has this mutant cold. Snot is dripping from is nose and eyes. Great. So now we have to get a state trooper. Just great. Then, a student finds a spider crawling up their leg. It crawls onto their paper. This is the fifth paper that would not fare-well, as the student takes off his shoe, and slams the bug some 15 times, until Mr. Muehlbauer restrains said child. Spider guts sprinkle said paper, as footprints and dirt are also on it. This paper was finished. Okay, so that's 5 papers messed up. This storry will be continued.

[[I'll finish this later...maybe....]]

Now I'm just here, talking to Caitlin, who will read this when this is finished, apparently. This is definitely longer than anything else I've written. You know what would make me so upset right now? If the power went out and the PC shut off. I would like DIE. I've worked so hard on this post. This post about nothing. Nothing in-particular at ALL. Well, I might add a couple of edits later. Check back! Please leave comments? Byeee!!!

=]

Finally, formal pictures!

Okay, I have a TON of pictures. Here are some. A few. You know, a delectable taste of the happenings at formal. Formal '07. Mardi Gras. =]. 6/1/2007 =]=]=]

Listen to this!

This is something that I think all of you should take some time out of your day to listen to. I'm not going to give any details of this. Just listen, and enjoy. Take note to the echo in the background, doesn't that person have such a good voice? YOU MIGHT WANT TO PAUSE THE OTHER SONG AND HIT PLAY HERE.

Just a ramble...

Grr. No, I had no fun yesterday. No Hershey Park. No competition. None of that. Well, okay, I had fun, but not like they did. Okay, 1st period we had a breakfast, which was hilarious, might I say. Mrs. Moreno was a.... 'proud' mother of 10 kids, and we all sat at these tables eating and telling stories. Siobhan went nuts with Carbs and Sugar. We have to watch it next time. Every other class...except for English was usual. And boring. English, she told us to do some work. None of us did, by the way. Nope. I played catch with Mac, sometimes Chris and Christian. The end of Soc. St. I played catch with Mac, too. (You know, big globe.) Well, I might be doing something today, but I'm not quite sure. I refuse to go to the city. I might go into town in about an hour. Who knows? Well, whatever the case, it will be fun. My schedule for today is quite rather...a netted wad of....heh? It's a mess. I have no idea what I'm doing. Okay. Yeah. Bye

A long deserved tribute

Well, blogs....blogs....blogs............... I was never into blogs. In fact, anyone that had a blog, or had the time to tend to one, I blasted and thought they were a complete and utter dork and nerd, at the bottom of the food chain, the crust on bread. (Okay, bad analogy.) Well, I was helping a certain someone with theirs, when I actually thought, hey, maybe this isn't that bad. I mean, I had a myspace, but myspace is crawling with cloaked sexual predators. At least on this, I know who's blog I read is real. (Her dad gave the all-important number one rule of anything on the internet. No last names, no personal information.) This in mind, everything is safe. Well, nothing on the internet is totally safe, but this is as close as you'll get. Even Jess got a foreign visitor on her blog. This one is from over 3000 miles away, down in

São Paulo, Brazil.

Yes, São Paulo. How about that? He spoke PORTUGESE. Well, he couldn't get anything. ANYWAY, BACK ON TASK, HERE. Because of them, I'm a blogger. As dorky as that may sound, yes, I am a blogger. And so is she. So is Chiara. So is Kerianne, and so is Christian. Maybe even Meghan sooner or later. Well, it's actually sort of...well...not exactly fun. It's a nice little sanctuary, where you know someone is reading. Even if they think everything you type is absolute basura (Translation: garbage. I just like that word.) It's fun! COME ON. SAY IT! Well, anyway. It's thanks to you, that I even have a blog. Or, really,...well, I better not say anything. I might get slapped and yelled at. Oh heck! It's safe to say you got us all to get one. You know who we are. Thanks Jess. =]