01.08.2013, Wednesday, 5:44 pm


‘A pinch and a punch on the first day of the month!!’ Was the first thing I heard as I walked into the classroom this morning. And as soon as the meaning of those dreaded words sank in, twelve [I counted] classmates [buddies, to be more precise] pounced on me, punching me on the shoulder like nobody’s business. ‘OUCH!!’ I recall exclaiming, rubbing my throbbing arm.┬áMalaika, one of closest mates, beamed, and then reminded me about the fact that… ‘…your birthday is in FOURTEEN days, Taylor!! Aren’t you excited??’ She questioned, looking a bit confused at my casual attitude. I frowned. It was a well known fact [at least, most of my grade new it] that I dislike my birthday immensely because of two reasons:

1) One year closer to being a stuck-up, hated grown-up who >BLECH!< sticks to the rules like a law-abiding citizen. [I am in NO hurry to start doing THAT]

2) I would ANY DAY prefer accomplishments to aging [who wouldn’t?]. Plus, since it seems to make everyone happy [their birthdays, I mean] I’ve decided to revolt against it [without a cause. I sound like a weird movie character, don’t I?].

So I stated my reasons to Mal, and she went ,’Oh… right,’ and then… okay, I forgot what happened after that. But one really interesting thing that happened to me today was…

Okay, for me to be able to explain this to you properly, I will need you to recollect something. Remember that article that I’d written that got previewed in the paper?? Well, I kind of showed it to my English teacher, Miss Belle, and she was so impressed by the poem that she requested me to lend her the snippet, which I did.

That was a few days ago. And in that time, you know what Miss Belle did? She spread the newspaper around the school to such an extent that even the vice principal heard about the poem and wanted to read it. So, anyway, today morning, just as the class was getting set to chorus the school anthem, Vice Principal Tara popped in and asked to see me for a moment. Now, let’s make this very clear. Although the majority of the student body is intimidated by the higher authorities of George Bush Middle School, I am one of the few who are more [for the want of a better word] fearless, and have voiced my opinions to even the Principal [a jolly fellow who is really very considerate about his staff and pupils] en number of times.

So when V. Principal Tara summoned me, I didn’t feel like falling through the floor. Instead, I boldly marched to her office and slightly blushed at the praises she sang about my poem. I’ll admit, she wasn’t falling to my knees or anything, but she did say that she was impressed with my literary piece and told me to keep it up. Before I could return to my seat, the secretary made an announcement. ‘Sir Adam has requested Taylor Skarr and Malaika Alps at his office immediately,’ she declared before exiting.

‘Make it quick,’ Miss Henriques [math teacher] said, before turning to the class and explaining the term ‘Rational Numbers’ to the class. Malaika and I guessed that the meeting had to do with the letter we had sent to the principal a few days ago [stating that we would like to have a word with him in private] and we were right. He inquired about our note and after we had settled some [private! sorry, I can’t let even you, dear diary, in on it. You know, in case someone finds you and, I don’t know, casually leafs thorough you] disputes, he let us return to our classes. Before Malaika and I could fully get out of his chamber, he blurted, ‘Oh, and Taylor, I happened to glance through the Sunday papers and I saw your article there. I’m very impressed,’ ‘Thank you, sir,’ I mumbled, before skipping off to my class.

But alas! We were interrupted again! ‘Are you the girl who wrote the article??’ I heard someone ask, someone directly behind me. ‘I spun around and lo and behold!! There stood Tr. Cate, English mistress of the higher secondary. ‘Very, very well done,’ she congratulated, a charming smile creeping up. ‘Thank you, teacher,’ I muttered, and was about to dart back to class when she said, ‘Hold it there, young lady! There’s this literary competition coming up and would you be interested??’ She interrogated. After nodding and supplying my details, I was allowed to return t my class, which I did with much pleasure.

So there you have it! My escapades of the morning. Being famous is tough, isn’t it?? ­čśŤ