Four Sherbet Nixons and a Fudge Jibbly-Do

I didn't know what title to use, because I don't know what I'm going to write yet exactly, so I just made something up.
-Well, I'm going to write for the moment about that thing I mentioned at the end of the last post--the "rededication" of the PAC. I'll just copy it out of my journal.
-I had to report at 1815. It started, comically, at 1930. We all just sat and did nothing--or watched the Bengals-Colts game--until we went into the PAC slightly before then We stood onstage and played the Opener and the Closer (for the last time, I might add), and then sat down in some hard wooden seats to enjoy the ceremony.
-I really, literally don't think I can describe the profound, the unbelievable, the impossible boringness. I'll try. Imagine: You are sitting on a cushionless chair in a darkened section of the PAC 100 yards from the stage. The whole group you're with has been cautioned to be very quiet. Onstage, there is an old person. Thie person's task is to tell the whole audience what the PAC was like in the '70s, and to reminisce at incredible length and exhaustiveness about all the plays he did in the '70s--who directed them, the names of all the cast members, and anything and everything else he can possibly remember. He goes on for about twenty minutes without mentioning a single thing you can connect to, or a name you recognize. Then he concludes, there's some sarcastic applause, and up to the podium comes another old person. He is in charge of the '80s. Each speaker took at least twenty minutes onstage; some showed unrecognizable slides, and some came on as a group. Because the focus was moving toward the present from the '70s, they got progressively younger and more numerous. The three in charge of the '90s lasted probably 40 0r 50 minutes. I think they repeated some decades a couple times, because there were more than three groups.
-Finally, we all got up, attempted but failed to go onstage, and then spread around the audience, and had Mr William Swartzel, who started the band program Way Back When, conduct us in the fight song. Then, then we all ran away from the PAC like people chased by wolves and went home shaken. I could not believe how boring that was.

-Now that I've bored you all, let me think what else has happened. We did our holiday concert. Though I played pretty well in practice even a few hours before (at home), my lips were absolutely blown when I got onstage. I couldn't figure it out, but I couldn't get above, like, an F. I probably stuck out, too. They say what's done is done, but I still wish it were done better.
-The following week the big talk around town was the snowstorm predicted for Thursday night. Sources predicted it varying from two to eight inches, but always with 100% certainty of snow. The only question was how much it would snow and when it would start: these are the determining factors in a snow day. I had heard 1400, but on Thursday it didn't start up until I was biking home from school at 1500. Far too early, I thought. Fortunately, it wouldn't stop. It came down vigorously hour after hour, and slowly built up to at least, I figured, six inches. I was disappointed to note it tapering off at around eight or maybe later (I don't remember). I went to bed late, and when I did, there was at least a two-hour delay called in for Finneytown. I hoped for more.
-When I woke up it proved to be a snow day. So Micah and I took a walk up to Warder. I forgot to tell you about what we found up at Warder the other day. We were just walking around by the Ivory Tower (the tall pine tree) when we saw a couple of 6′×6′ wooden decks, one lying on the ground and one leaning up against a tree, and some plywood against another tree. There were also four chairs arranged around a fire pit. Weird, we thought. We investigated a little. Without too much effort, we discovered something even stranger: behind the sheets of plywood were five huge 3′×5′ playing cards. They were K♣, K♠, J♠, J♣, and Q♦. The Queen was weird because she looked like she was singing opera and her crown was poking off the top of the card, like those billboards that have extensions. We also found a scepter with a spade on the end. My immediate first thought was that it was some kind of weird pagan ritual. I still don't know any more about it. Without anything else to see, we left the area.
-That was a week or two before the snow day. On the snow day we just went to the pond and threw stuff across. It wasn't thick enough to walk on, which was puzzling because we'd had about four days in a row where it didn't get above freezing. A little later we went home.

-I had a surprisingly good Monday today. In band we got music: The Awakening, which we played last year, and something called New Dawn. That wasn't what contributed to it being good--it just happened. Let's see. I got my PSAT score back. I got a 222, and I'm in the 99th percentile. Rosie last year got annoyed because I kept asking everyone what they got and then telling them what I got (217) when they asked. She said it was bragging. So this year I just left the results sheet on my desk and watched people come over and look at it, or told them when they asked unsolicited. It still got all over the school, but this time it wasn't because of me. So there, Rosie.
-Next we had academic team, against both Summit Country Day and Mariemont. The matches were separated, and once we finished one we got to go to the other. With Summit, we didn't win, but I got a bunch of questions in the lightning round. With Mariemont we didn't win, but we were darn close, and we would have if they hadn't been faster than us on that last question. We lost 30 to 31. The last answer was Antony and Cleopatra, and Jane knew it (and I guess I kind of did), but they got it first. Nuts.
-But, I was asked my name by the coach of Summit's team, and she wrote it down under "best player on opposing team". I thought that was swell. I rode my bike home, and, since the sidewalks are covered with giant clumps of snow, I rode on the road. That was invigorating.
-And I finished off the day so far with a good pot roast. I've just discovered that my mom, who just left for a vacation to Arizona to her aunt and uncle to burn up her leftover vacation time (which she can't cash in or roll over), has gotten mysteriously ill. She got that way just three hours after she got on the plane, and now she's up in some hospital. They don't know exactly what's going on yet, or, if they do, they haven't told us. But apparently she still has the strength to nag me from across the country (viz. the last comment last post), so it can't be too bad.