I hope none of you are like this

You know you are in IB when:
Desperate to fill up your CAS hours, you claim watching a black and white movie as "creativity" and walking your dog as "activity", and your teacher approves it. (Elvish is creative and my backpack is heavier than the weights in the olympics)
You wonder if there's Cliff's Notes on the Calculus book. (PRE-Calculous)
You've developed an imprint of your book bag in your back.
Your best hope for most classes is either divine intervention or a strategically placed lightning bolt. (Just one! Buntyn deserves a lightning bolt!)
Your books weigh more than you do. (Getting there)
You plead insanity on a research paper. (Physics lab actually)
Your plea is accepted by your teacher. (He's the most awesome teacher alive)
Your backpack is only comfortable when it weighs >30 pounds. (It really is)
You have convinced your parents the "1" you received on your IB Physics exam was really the "top 1% of all IB students worldwide". (That is an omen)
You skip breakfast so you can get to school early to get in some extra cramming time to gain that "upper edge" on the rest of the class. (Who needs food?)
Your home becomes a "home away from home". (I found something soft in that place where I dump my backpack everyday. Research led me to believe it was an ancient artifact called a 'bed' (BUH-dah))
Pressed for time, you conclude a history essay with, "And they lived happily every after. Amen." (Hopefully Buntyn won't read the handwritten essay)
"What is the Bronsted Lowry Theory again?" (Seriously, what is it?)
Can we say EXTRA CREDIT?? (Comp Sci rules!)
You find that you spend more time sleeping in class than at home. (Once again, I am sorry Senora Smith)
Your list of excuses for not doing your homework is the length of Anna Karenina. (One notebook (written in elvish, of course) is filled with 20 pages of future excuses) (I've used 4 aldready)
You come into school at 6:00am to do Biology and don't complain. (Okay, it was actually Physics at 6:30 AM and I bitched a little bit. Milburn must be insane to set up tutorials that early. He is still awesome, though.)
The saying "When I graduate high school" has been replaced with "If I ever graduate." (I actually replaced it to "In the due effect that divine intervention is met and the Nine aid me in my effort to conquer the school and set up a fascist regime that would allow me to graduate...")
When you're watching TV, you feel guilty because not all of your homework is done. (Like right now. Let's see: econ homework, physics, history, comp sci...)
You find yourself spelling words out on scantrons. You are deeply saddened when you can only find one letter of "IB SUCKS!" (I did spell 4 words in elvish on a scantron once)
You have an internet connection on your calculator. (PDA, get it right!)
You have functioning electrical appliances in your locker. (Actually, I have 3 electrical appliances with me at all times.)
You can type 70 words per minute -- on a TI-89. (PDA. And I can. Face my fury, puny mortals!)
Your TI-89 can now link with satellites so you can watch The Learning Channel at lunch. (Well, I can do it with my PDA at any Starbucks, Apple Store, Airport, or specific hotels. Some libraries too. I am working on getting permission to access the network at school. BTW< this was not satirical at all. It was pure truth.)
You have more CD-ROMS than music CDs. (I am a russian network type person)
You see no point to programming in anything other than machine code and possibly assembly. (DO NOT GET ME STARTED! ARGH!)
You write and run programs in your head while sleeping between classes and practicing chess moves on the tile floor en route. (Everyone does that, right? I commented on Tatiana's Xanga as a fully functioning Java Program. All it needs is a compiler and interpreter and you are set.)
You often wake up suddenly from this and start screaming out streams of ones and zeroes, then explain it away as either an assembly crash or an i/o error, as applicable. (0100100101001111001000000100010101110010011100100110111101
11001000101110 - IO Error)
You wish you could interface with the computer-generated reality of the Matrix. (Wish? Ha!)
You've gotten electronic copies of text books in TI-89 format. (.LIT and .PDB They are awesome)
Your bed hasn't been slept in since Bush was president. (Technically...)
You're afraid of sunlight since you haven't seen it in 3 years. (I am adamantly opposed against orbitting arround a huge ball of fire.)
You get a full upper body workout putting your backpack on. (Sigh, yes.)
You skip breakfast so you can get to school early to get in some extra cramming time and gain that "upper edge" on the rest of the class. (I really do.)
Breakfast?! What's that? (I never did like breakfast to begin with)
You can count the number of hours you sleep each week on one missing hand. (Yep, one week I actually could do that.)
You've taught yourself how to take naps while walking to your next class. (Its not as hard as it seems, really. Just get a freakishly large pointy set of scissors and hold it against people. They will stay out of your way. Trust me.)
You actually get used to waking up at 5:00 am. (Sad, isn't it?)
You hyperventilate every time you see a traditional student, praying that you'll never become like them. (Should I even bring up the letter I wrote to Mrs. Mcdonald last year?)
You think MTV is a formula for mass, temperature and volume. (I don't think. I know. Gay Lussac's test, remenber people)
You clean up your room and find a bed. (I sent it to the Smithsonian to have it analyzed)
You wonder about things like what would happen if your car traveled at the speed of light and your turned your lights on. (Light would go as a curve, right? So the light would form a sort of band arround the car since...)
"Burnout" isn't a strong enough word to describe you. (Getting there)
The word "ponder" sends you into spasms. (Trisha can attest to that)
You gave up your search for a "nice university with a good curriculum" during your first week of 11th grade. You've now redefined your search to "a nice bell tower with a good mount for a sniper rifle". (Anyone remenber that one english story?)
You stop going to volunteer work, but you unconsciously think you're still going. (That fire department job is so boring... Wait, I haven't gone in a month to that... and its useless for my CAS hours either way.)
You enjoy finding out the hard way why normal distribution should work. (Pre calc sucks.)
It's the little things that confuse you. (Pre calc sucks)
You find all the "glitches" in movies. (ALL of them.)
When asked what significance Hitler had to Racial Social Darwinism, you say "Well, he didn't like Jews." (Kind of. My answer was "he was pissed at the jews" but it wasn't politically corr-e---c------t *Spasm* ENGLISH CLASS! ESSAY!)
Free time? (I used to have that. Wonder where I put it?)
You've mastered the art of procrastination so well that your research paper finishes printing just seconds before you have to leave for school. (I did this since Clark, sheesh. I have it perfected even better. Seconds before the class starts, I finish printing my homework in the library and dash with my 40 pound backpack to building 4. Score!)
You dread the word rubric. (AHHHHHHHHHHHH! IT ATE THE GRAMMAR! THE WHOLE GRAMMAR!)
Yourbrainissooverloadedthatyouforgetthesimplestthings. (ys, sm t b frgttng sm f ths)
When you go to the library, you see a least three or four of your classmates. (Better yet, you know their names and one of them is a really close friend of yours)
Your pick-up lines include compliments on the quality of her (his) epidermis and the wonderful shape of her (his) occipital plate. (The key question here is: Will I ever use them?)
Your peers know more about you than you do. (Yesh)
You really wear those IB T-shirts. (I have some ideas for one)
You forget your brother's name because you haven't seen him in three years.
Wait...what brother?
You think "social life" refers to life in Soviet Bloc nations during the Cold War (It could refer to the life in the socialist nations. A sort of cultural analysis)
You talk in your sleep -- in Spanish. (And elvish.)
You resort to communicating with classmates through a series of clicks because languages take too long. (If only doplhine was more widespread...)
You no longer speak English -- You speak a combination of English, German, Spanish, French, Portugese, Swedish, Dutch, Chinese, Russian, Norwegian, Hebrew, Arabic, Japanese, Korean, and Polish. (Rephrase: English, Spanish, Elvish (Quenya and Sindarin), Dwarvish (Khuzdul), Rohirrim (Old English or Saxxon), Valarin, Black Speech (The Black Tongue of Mordor), Japanese, Sanskrit, and some hobbit)
You convert it to 36-bit words converted to hexadecimal numbers to communicate as it is faster.
You write a text-to-speech program that uses this hexadecimal linguistic conglomerate.
You modify your text-to-speech program so that it also works as speech-to-text, and is eerily accurate. (Enough said.)
You debate physics during lunch…and you usually win. (Don and John and Dennis suck at physics, ha!)
Your calculators are an extension of your body. (My PDA is surgically attached now)
You say, "I so accurately measured the momentum of my homework that it could be anywhere."
Your backpack has an imprint of your back in what little remains of the padding.
The "padded" straps on your backpack are padded everywhere except where your collarbones go.
After getting a "B" on your Chemistry test, you decide to take out your anger on some TWA plane. (They make a nice boom sound)
You're sad, because you can only take four HL tests. (Not sad, just angry)
You hack the school’s network and duplicate your records so that you can take another three HLs, then merge the records together after you take your senior IB exams. (Working on it)
You say the same sentence over and over again, not realizing you've said it before.
Q is scared of you.
Q feels inferior to your knowledge.
The Borg beg you to permit them to assimilate you.
You permit them to assimilate you, but only if you become part of Unimatrix Zero and the collective does not interfere with Unimatrix Zero ever again.
You actually think you have a shot at passing the physics HL exam.
you start analyzing random books, song lyrics, and street signs. (far too often)
A good night's sleep is 5 hours
You have made up complicated metaphors relating your love life to a card game and have fun doing it
16+2= ...wait let me get my graphing calculator! (Its a conplicated one)
The urge to shout "Sir, yes sir" overwhelms you and...you do it
The idea of "getting off on tangents" is hilariously funny (it is!)
you logically investigate the mystical powers of the phrase "wouldn't it be funny if..." (I have done this... I was trying to trace the logical beginnings of humor)
you find deep meaning in the words to "I Wanna Be Sedated "
you don't speak French, yet you compile a list of insults in French
you start to laugh hysterically when you're writing a bibliography because a book has TWO authors
you find juxtaposition in places you shouldn't be looking for it (But it fits in C&P)
you spend all your time complaining about your work, then do it hurriedly because you want to get to bed and don't know where all the time went
you brag that you only got 2 hours of sleep last night
you write a two page answer to a one sentence question
you look forward to arguing
you enjoy complaining and scaring underclassmen (yeah, and they gave us 500 pages of History, but I managed to do that even though my back is now permanently damaged by the weight of my backpack, and the track bugs almost got me so I was exhausted from running... etc.)
you love telling your boyfriend/girlfriend the story your math teacher told you (nah. It was the physics teacher)
when writing down decimals, you don't understand why you can't write them to the 14th decimal place (Lazy teachers!)
this number means something: 42 ("42 is the answer. Its the question that drives us."
7 classes means seven classes (Damn it! It took me 3 weeks to get that!)
the longest you can go without caffeine is less than 6 hours...okay, okay, less than 2 hours (Though sweet tarts extend that time to 6)
the wall really IS there! (I PROVED it...CLUNK!)
you write a newsletter half in Latin (Elvish. It was widely enjoyed amid the elven population)
you forget to breathe you realize the IB drop outs are smarter than you are (they are???)
you complain about studying for your foreign language exam...in multiple foreign languages
you have a thought, and it hurts.
you have a hurt, and it thinks.
you realize that something is missing when your backpack feels too light.
You say the same sentence over and over again, not realizing you've said it before.
the most peer pressure you have recently experienced is someone trying to get you to eat potato chips.
You overanalyze They Might Be Giants songs (Most recent one was "Experimental Film". Thought it was some sort of religious song for the creation of the universe. It actually was about an Experimental Film. Damn it!)
 
Regina (Liz or Weasel to most of you) has inmersed me in a world that is both beautiful and scary and eery in a weird way.

I am in an RPG forum thingermagigamabob about Harry Potter. She gave me a character because she had nine different characters and needed to be rid of some. I am kinda nervous about it. I mean, first this seems to be extremely elaborate and though I read the books multiple times last year, I haven't done so this year. And then, there's the seriousness to it.

And the main worry: time. Laney specially wasn't happy to hear of my venture. Hopefully, I can time it right. The way she said "TIME COMMITEMENT" made it sound like I was taking a time comitement or something. :p It sounds fun but maybe I am not giving it the seriousness it deserves.
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My personal favorite...

The world has changed. I feel it in the water. I feel it in the earth. I smell it in the air.
Much that once was is lost for none now live to remember it.
It began with the forging of the great pencils.
Three were given to the IB lords: immortal, wisest and fairest of all beings.
Seven to the AP students: great students and craftsmen of the mountain halls.
And nine...nine pencils were gifted to the race of GPA whores...who, above all else, desire 5.0s.
For within these pencils was bound the strength and will to govern each race.
But they were all of them deceived. For another pencil was made. In the land of Mordor, in the fires of Mount Doom...the Dark Lord Reinaldo forged in secret a Master Pencil to control all others. And into this pencil he poured his cruelty, his malice and his will to dominate all life.

One Pencil to rule them all.

One by one the free classrooms of Clark Earth fell to the power of the Pencil.
But there were some who resisted.
A Last Alliance of GPA Whores and IB Lords marched against the armies of Mordor.
And on the slopes of Mount Doom, they fought for the freedom of Clark Earth.
Victory was near.
But the power of the Pencil could not be undone.
It was in this moment when all hope had faded that Aleck Zhou, son of the king, took up his father's sword.
Reinaldo, the enemy of the Free Peoples of Clark Earth was defeated.
The Pencil passed to Aleck who had this one chance to destroy evil forever.
But the hearts of GPA Whores are easily corrupted. And the Pencil of power has a will of its own.
It betrayed Aleck… to his death.
And some things that should not have been forgotten were lost.
History became legend, legend became myth.
And for two and a half thousand periods the pencil passed out of all knowledge.
Until, when chance came it ensnared a new bearer. Justin: My Preciousssss.
The Pencil came to the creature Justin who took it deep into the tunnels of the Gamespot Mountains.
And there it consumed him.
Justin: It came to me. My own. My love. My own. My preciousssssss....
The pencil brought to Justin unnatural good grades.
For 500 periods it poisoned his mind.
And in the gloom of Justin's class, it waited.
Darkness crept back into the gyms of the world.
Rumor grew of a shadow in the east, whispers of a nameless fear.
And the Pencil of Power perceived its time had now come.
It abandoned Justin.
But something happened then The Pencil did not intend. It was picked up by the most unlikely creature imaginable.
A regular.
Stuart Montgomery of Shepton.
For the time will soon come when regulars will shape the fortunes of all.
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