Confessions of Camille

Thanksgiving Day. 1:10 p.m. Hecticness (it’s a word; I looked it up on dictionary.com! XD).

Okay, last night… Well, midnight, I was texting my friend. She kept pushing me to tell her my crush—and she’s the girl who has a crush on The Possible One, too. So I had some doubts. Here’s the convo with some parts taken out:

Her: can you give me hints to who you like?

Me: Oh, ok well… I like u, colleen, *my friend*, *my American History teacher* is ok…def *my Spanish teacher*... A lot of ppl actually :P

Her: I ment your crush

Me: Ok fine. I better be honest but dont hate me. I told u last year @ the very 1st dance.

Her: I don’t remember that far back

Me: Really *her name*? Do u need hints? THINK

Her: Thinks wait hate you?? *The Possible One*?

So I texted her back saying: “YES. Ohmygod, do you hate me?” And she replied, “No, I don’t hate you…” and it goes on.

Basically, we’re good. Closer? I’m secretly hoping, however, that she’ll get over The Possible One. After all, she’s had four crushes in the span of one school year. She’ll definitely (read: hopefully?) get over The Possible One by the end of the semester.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

xo,

Camille

Happy days, happy days.

Speaking of days, yesterday was Food Day in español. Food Day is, according to my Spanish teacher, when we eat foods of different cultures and are “merry.” I brought in leche flan and pancit. Leche flan is a type of custard-dessert composed of eggs, milk, and sugar. Pancit (also spelled P-A-N-S-I-T) is basically noodles mixed with veggies and meat/seafood. I really love shrimp in pancit, but my Spanish teacher said he wouldn’t consume seafood. So, to ensure that he would try the pancit, I told my mom to leave out the shrimp and just put in pork. As for the leche flan…well, my dad made that. Originally, my dad and I baked leche flan, but it over-baked in the oven and was hard—not exactly the goal. ;) So instead of channeling my Inner Cook, I channeled my inner Leche Flan Killer. Good thing I didn’t bake cereal because then I’d be a cereal killer.

Ha-ha. Lame puns. I know. :D

The good thing is that in la clase de ingles yesterday, we got progress reports. So far, I have…above an A+! I so can’t believe it—w00t! Although…it is believable. I mean, on this theatre terms test, I got a 29 out of 20 (extra credit), a.k.a. 145%, and I’ve been mostly acing the past few vocabulary tests (those vocab words come in handy; I can incorporate them in my writing!). I just hope I beat The Possible One. Probably not. :(

Bleah. Thanksgiving is tomorrow. Not exactly excited. Last year, we moved into our new house on Thanksgiving. That night, on Thanksgiving dinner, I puked (synonyms: threw up, upchucked, barfed) right on the new, hardwood floor. I didn’t even have a heavy dinner! Just some turkey (boneless! Can you believe it? Where’s the tradition in that?), rice (we Asians eat rice with everything, LOL), pancit, and Sprite—only one serving each. And trust me, my servings are small. No one says anything, but I’m definitely underweight. In my opinion. My opinion is valued to me. :)

Happy Thanksgiving!

xo,

Camille

Hey!

Lately I have been having close encounters with the CUTE kind, as in The Possible One.

For some weird reason, he keeps dropping his eraser in Spanish (okay, twice, but that’s still kind of constant, and besides, it was within three days). Anyway, he keeps playing with his eraser and then accidentally (on purpose?) drops it far, far away from him…near me. I flank to his right in Spanish, so I picked it up and handed it to him. What word made me float?

“Thanks.”

OHMYGOD. Thanks. Oh, my God.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed The Other Girl who also likes The Possible One frowning subtly. I’m sorry, but I like this guy, too! Should I just keep this a secret from her? (Isn’t it Girl Law that a girl cannot also like the crush of her friend if said friend liked him longer?) I mean, seriously, my friend apparently liked him since spring 2009, and I’ve liked him since fall 2007! Come ON.

Our encounters have been surreal and keep me floatin’ on Cloud Nine. Usually, it is only one of top four reasons that he talks to me:

1) Manners (i.e. “Thanks”, “You're welcome”, etc.)

2) School (i.e. homework, grades, tests; we have almost every class together)

3) Questions (i.e. homework, homework help, trivia)

4) Scholastic Bowl (i.e. “Are you going to Scholastic Bowl tonight?” or “Are you going to the competition on Saturday?”)

I know; I’m pretty much overreacting. But whatev.

Have you guys had any Close Encounters with the Cute Kind lately?

xoxo,

Camille

Hey, everyone!

I am having a fantabulous day today. Seriously. Today was awesome…mostly. :D :D :D Can’t stop smiling!

Today was the first, official Scholastic Bowl practice—as in 6^th, 7^th, and 8^th graders simultaneously practicing in one room on the same day. I missed the first Scho Bowl practice for 7^th and 8^th graders because I was sick (for almost a whole school week! Well, actually Tuesday-through-Friday and then Monday of the following week). So, technically, this is my first Scho Bowl practice of this school year.

Last year I was in Scho Bowl, too. I admit I was pretty slow—with answering questions I mean—and hesitant. Like, I didn’t want to be wrong, but I’d end up right (in my mind at least). ANYWAY. Now I think I learned my lesson. I’m not hesitant anymore; if I’m sure that an answer’s right, I buzz in as quickly as I can. Hopefully, this will score me some points, and I will be captain of the team (for one game) when competition season starts.

There were sooo many people who wanted to be in Scho Bowl—are sooo many people who want to be in Scho Bowl? Well, whatever, present or past tense, there are a lot of people. Mostly 6^th graders. Colleen whispered in my ear that she was a bit eager for cuts since we had way too many people, but I kind of disagree. Yes, I’m upset that there are too many people thus giving me less time to shine, but as long as I am on Team A (the better team) and not on Team B (the less-better team) in competitions, I am satiable.

EEE! I had such a good first practice (of the school year) today! I answered sooo many questions. So I accomplished two things: 1) Scored points with Mrs. W and Mrs. J, the trainers/coaches of Scholastic Bowl, and 2) looked smart in front of The Possible One! Eeeee! The first question was (or at least all I heard before I buzzed in): “This popular music artist also writes books…religion—” Immediately I thought of the Queen of Pop herself since she writes English Roses or something.

“Camille?” she acknowledged (since in Scho Bowl you have to be acknowledged before you answer or else you’ll be penalized for a “blurt”).

“Madonna,” I answered.

I was right! Yay! Then I answered some math questions—both of which a certain Math Genius got wrong! Like, he buzzed in before me for two questions, but he got the answers wrong, then I buzzed in and got them right (one of them was a word problem, and the other was multiplying the absolute value of -278 which is, of course, 278, by some other number)! And on one math question I was the first to buzz in, and, yeah, I got it right. Which is a first. I mean, math is not Camille’s specialty. Also, I answered the boiling point of water in Fahrenheit (212 degrees), the meaning of “punctual” (on time, duh), and several others. :D :D :D Although, I got one question wrong: What hyphenated commercial on the Internet that is unsolicited…or something like that… Anyway, I guessed spam (Sending Particularly Annoying Messages), but it was pop-ups. Duh. Hyphenated.

What makes my day even BETTER, though, was that The Possible One said, “Bye, Camille,” when I left to go home! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! So I squeaked out, “Bye, *his name*.” EEEE! What does that mean? What does it mean when The Guy You Like says “bye” to you? And it wasn’t just my imagination, but his voice sounded a bit tight and nervous. Does he like me, too? Not likely. Oh, well…

Downsides to my Awesome Day: Colleen has been trying to convince me to do Math Counts, this group-thing where we compete in math competitions. The Other Girl Who Likes My Guy But Is Not Aware That I Like Him Too Even Though I Told Her Last Year (I’ve liked this guy longer, just so you know) is in Math Counts; she claims she’s not doing it because her/my crush is in it, but I am totally dubious. Anyway, Cols will probably not leave me alone since I answered those math questions and am in Algebra… :( :(

How was your day?

--Camille

“Muh…”


“Uh…”

“Huh…”

My eyelids slowly lift up. “Wh — what happened?” I ask hoarsely, scoping out the place. We’re still in the same room. The bed is still there. So is the book.

A blurry figure stares down at me. “What are you doing here?” she queries, her eyes as wide as saucers.

My vision clears. This girl… She’s fairly tall. Long brown hair, freckles, turkey neck, and blazing, blue eyes. My lips part and close, part and close. I rub my eyes in disbelief. She’s there. She’s really there. Oh, my gosh.

“M — mom?”

...

What do you think? Cliffhanger enough? It's at the end of a chapter...when a certain event happens... Hee.

More later,

Camille

Several things decided:

Uno: I will not post any personal information (to protect the innocent and my identity!)

Dos: I will let WHOEVER READS THIS in on insider-info of BtB—if I can come up with insider-info that I haven’t posted on the SmartGirl site yet…

Tres: I have a major case of writer’s block. I’m serious! I can’t come up with anything for Beyond the Barn. So…I am going to copy and paste things from my “Me, Myself, and I” essay I am required to compose for English. Yay; you get to know more about me, whoever reads this!

I have a dreaded middle name due to the fact that I am a “little angel”: Angelie. I never did love my full name, Camille Angelie Mylastname, in its entirety, especially since whenever anyone says my name they pronounce Angelie as “Ann-jelly.” My birthstone is aquamarine, my birth flower is the bright and sunny daffodil, and my birth sign is Pisces, the fish.

I just moved to a new house (the one I’m currently living in) last Thanksgiving. That Thanksgiving was not pleasant, however. The turkey was boneless, no roast ham, and I threw up right on the hardwood floor in front of all my family and friends. I was mortified—and shivering. It turned out that I had the stomach flu. I pray day after day that this Thanksgiving will not be a repeat.

My dark, black-brown hair reaches to my shoulders, my chocolate brown eyes look inquisitive and intelligent behind my red-and-white glasses, I am as skinny as a stick—so people find it unbelievable that I am a chocoholic—my limbs are spindly and thin, and my eyelids are edged with stubby, black eyelashes. I consider myself to be sensitive, reserved, and self-conscious, especially in the classroom; when with my friends, I can never shut up.

I love the color aquamarine, especially since it is my birth stone, and all of my favorite dishes are Filipino or simply Asian: leche flan (egg-and-milk custard), champarado (chocolate rice porridge), rice (literally eat it every day), pancit (noodles), torta (a type of omelet or even a cupcake-type of dessert), and cassava cake (a delicious dessert featuring cassava and coconuts). I also love chicken—fried, baked, grilled, barbecued, or otherwise. I’m a sucker for love songs and oldies, especially songs by Celine Dion, Amy Grant, Richard Marx, Eric Clapton, and Barry Manilow. American Idol rocks my socks—it is so emotional…and so real! I don’t think I truly admire anyone; I just don’t believe in looking up to people, I guess. If you spend all your time admiring someone, you just waste your time. Sure, I follow people’s “Good Samaritan” examples, but I do not truly, honestly admire any person. My idea of having a good time is curling up on the couch or even outside on the porch reading a good book or scribbling in my writing journal. Boring to me is blabbing about math and algebraic equations; who cares about numbers? Do we speak in numbers? Instead of saying “hello” do we say “zero-one-one-three-four-upside down”? That would be a nightmare! I am surprised that I am even passing in Algebra. I find rock music, action movies, and all things loud unlikable. I hate it when adults try to relate to kids; why can’t they ever understand us? I also get ticked off when someone badmouths English class, writing, or reading. Hello? Grammar and spelling are the bases of our language, people!

I think other people see me as a quiet, bright girl who never gets a B in any course or class as her final grade, which is why I feel so pressured at school! I know I have intelligence slightly above average, but it’s not like I am a superstar savant or something. People expect “little genius Camille” to get straight A’s on everything: homework, quizzes, and tests. After all, my peers always remark, “Oh, I bet Camille got an A” or “Camille never fails anything.” When I say I’m nervous about a test or quiz, they shoo the subject away and scoff, “Yeah, right. Camille—scared. Whooo. You know you’re going to ace it, anyway.” Expectations are cruel! Maybe I would ace everything if people wouldn’t put so much pressure on me.

I hope to become a novelist, poet, or teacher in the future. I also want to go to Disney World or Disneyland—I have never gone there before. The farthest I have been from home and still in the United States was when I was visiting my great aunt in Missouri. When I am happily married and adopted several children, I hope to live in a humble home with four bedrooms, three bathrooms, a finished basement with a playroom for the kids, a living room, a dining room, a kitchen with new stainless-steel appliances and marble countertops, and a large backyard and front yard to play in. If I never do get published, I would like to be either a sixth- or seventh-grade English teacher who plays tons of games and assigns writing assignments on a biweekly basis.

More later,
Camille