L'Oréal. Because you're what?

So. We meet again, school computer. It's been a while. How was your holiday? Lonely? Or did you and the other HP 2009m monitor exchange dirty images of your hard drives? Don't tell me! Be modest! Sicko. A is sitting next to me looking at an illustrated story about a girl trying to figure out if her dog is retarded. Tom and I have planned to play charades today in Drama class. How exciting. 
There's a flash drive plugged into this mini Mac and I had an immediate impulse to pull it out, but figured I should restrain myself. We're going to be learning about the Israeli Palestinian conflict, and that culture as a whole at the start of this semester in Global studies, so I've ALREADY announced that everyone in the class should come to see MY NAME IS RACHEL CORRIE, and our student teacher provided some additional information about her the he already knew. I hope he comes to see it. And how perfectly coincidental. 
I spent my lunch period speaking with Jessie about everyone else in my family. I seem to be doing that a lot lately. I'm being super analytical. It's not a bad thing, but because that takes a certain level of frankness, it can come off as pretentious, or cold. Boo. But, hey. I tend to do that a lot anyway. Cue squinted eyes, a tilt of the head, and / or a mild sense of uncertainty. 


Over the summer, if you recall, I wrote about feeling as if I were in a cocoon stage. I knew something was about to change, and I knew that something about me was going to become [drastically] different. I only recently realized that all of those little intuitions were correct. And here we are. And of course it's not just been one thing that has been the source of this change. But it feels like I went from caterpillar all the way to platypus.