Needless to say, no one messed up as badly as I did last night. No one really messed up at all, let alone noticeably. I was almost hoping for someone to take the title away from me.

Still in French class right now, nearly falling asleep on my buddy, Rachel*, barely glancing down at my notebook. Bruce, I feel like I’m doing all the talking here. Tell me about yourself. What’s your favorite food? Oh pizza’s good. I personally like toasted asiago bagels with plain cream cheese. Dammit Bruce! Why are you talking about food at a time like this? Lunch isn’t for two more hours and now I’m starving. Theatre majors in this class are pretending they’re French. Pretty bad. See? Not even so much as a witty remark. THAT’S how bored I am right now. McClelland just called me out for sleeping so we can make a “play.” How, exactly? I don’t know.

French torture is over now. Our play was...wonderful. Now is biology time with Ms. Vamvakias**. Ms. V is incredibly nice and one of my personal favorite teachers. However, because she’s so freaking nice, so many kids take advantage of her. It’s sad, really.

“Oh Ms. V I need to go get stoned- I mean ‘do a project’” Not my words obviously, just so we’re clear. But this kind of crap happens with all teachers.

Vocal was a dramabomb today. Seniors were zooming from wall to wall with tear-powered jetpacks - except for G-LO, he seemed rather content - because they all leave on Tuesday. Today’s Friday. I guess I’m not much of the crying type. I probably drained myself of all the saltwater in my body in elementary school. I cried on a daily basis, at school, until my mom bribed me out of it for middle school. She’s a dentist, she can afford it.

Anyway Bruce, I’m sitting at the parent lounge of the Denver School of Rock. Ever seen the movie? It’s like that, but without the academic parts or Jack Black. My older brother, Will, was the first to be involved with the school, then me, then my little brother, Joey. Yes, I’m the middle child. Woopee.

I gotta say, though, the title’s got it’s perks. Will is two years older but acts like it’s fifteen. Joey is five years younger, but we act like it’s two.

What else is there, Bruce? Eh, I dunno. Uuuuh… I’m hungry.

Got a bagel?