the table called me yesterday. all of them. they're so fucking fond of 3-way calls. we had 5 people on the line, including me and C. [C hung up in the middle and they never noticed. this says EVERYTHING about them.] tomorrow we're all going to get together like good happy friends and have a nice harry potter themed sleepover.
that's what it looks like on paper.
by the end of the night I can guarantee at least 3 types of drama will be brought up, someone will refuse to speak [probably shane], something will be on fire [probably shane's ex-girlfriend's hair. it's happened before. for reasons no one but me could understand I'm calling her mary], and I will confuse someone [probably the host of the sleepover. long ago I decided I'd call her ava, so I am.].
hey, I just named the whole table! oh, I may as well throw in that there's also a freshman, who is of little importance right now, and two girls who left the school. but since they haven't come up... yeah. later. I'm still in contact with both of them, but most of the table isn't, from what I've heard.
jesus. yes, I agreed to it. and no, it will not go as planned. nothing ever does with these people. stunningly, they've left emma out. hmmmm. if she finds out about this more bitchface drama will go on. I like the sound of that, just so long as it isn't manifested in the sound of my phone ringing.
also, for the last 6 days I've been existing on a steady diet of ramones, dead kennedys, the cure, and depeche mode. add this to the upcoming harry potter fest and... oh god. I'm so screwed.
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