OMG!!!!! This will be my last post for TWO WEEKS!!!!!!!!! I"M GOING TO CANADA! YAY!

All week we've been trying to figure out if we're going up today or Saturday. Since V is too busy to come up right away, she's just dropping me in Hope, and my g'rents are picking me up and taking me to Sun Peaks. Last night, my grandma called, and V had a looooong discussion. Apparently there's going to be a storm up there over the weekend, so we're driving up today. Then there was all the drama that my dad didn't get the form notarized, and then we were in the depths of despair - correction: V was bewildered, and Dad and I were watching NCIS on TV. It's a good show. Anyway, V finally figures out that since she's my PARENT she doesn't have to have a form notarized to take me over the border, so then she had to change the form, and we stayed up until eleven packing me. I had my bag part packed, but I was missing socks, my toothbrush, etc., so it took a while. And then she insisted that I take enough snacks to feed an army : Srsly, who eats a WHOLE BAG OF SUNCHIPS? OR FOUR APPLES? OR SIX YOGURT BARS? Sigh...

We went to the island and saw Other Moves on Sunday! It was fantastically awesome! Graham even signed my program! V was humming the Prince music on the way home, and she suddenly turned around and asked "Nat, weren't you a dancer once? Do you want to start classes again?" "Not really," I say, pretending to be engrossed in Nancy Drew, even though I've read it a million times.

I was a dancer, once. I started dance when I was five, and added riding when I was seven. Before long, I was one of the best. I got moved up, made captain of my dance teams. But people were always whispering behind my back. "Teacher's pet" "Miss Perfect" "Always has to be better than everyone else" I tried to ignore it. I practiced four times a week, obsessing over every pointed toe, every graceful sweep of the hand. I was only nine. It only got worse as I got older. One girl, in particular, was really mean. She used to hide my dance bag, not tell me about changes in schedule, put soap in my hairspray. Then, Mrs. Elliot, my dance instructor, gave me a lyrical solo. Melanie, the meanest girl, was furious. I ignored her, though. I was thrilled. My solo was set to "Lessons Learned" by Carrie Underwood, my favorite singer. I had even learned a back walkover for it. Then, the night of my performance, right before I went on, Mel hissed to me "Mrs. Elliot only chose you because you're little. It makes you look like a prodigy. From HER studio." My heart sank, but I did my routine perfectly. Mrs. Elliot gushed about it. But my fantasy was ruined. I would never be a dancer. I quit dance soon after that. But, as it turns out, my dad met Veronica at my performance. They started dating, and seven and a half months later, I had a stepmom. V is the one good thing to come from it - that and being able to accel at riding.

But I love riding, and Gabby is fabulous. And I'm leaving for Canada in fifteen minutes!
I'm watching the clock.

GTG,
Natasha Eleanor Anastasia Hawthorne King

Samantha and Simon stayed overnight last night - Mark was having his adenoids out in Bellevue, poor guy! :-( It was so weird sleeping over with them! I'm at their house so much - teasing Sam, making forts with Si, playing battleship with Mark, giving Beth bronco rides, playing with Lis. We watched Bridge to Terabithia, and then we stayed up talking until one, and V kept yelling at us, which was our cue to burst out giggling uncontrollably. Yes, Simon actually laughs. It's a miracle. *sarcasm* They took the bus with me today, and got off at school - they had math. I, however, am sitting in the lounge. We had spaghetti and meatballs for dinner, and ice cream and cookies left over from a few weeks ago when V and I went overkill baking. (didn't tell them that!)

I'm like the bottom of the food chain at my school. I'm way smarter than anyone else, most of my courses are online, and I am not popular or superchic. Middle schoolers don't outright HATE me, but Maddie and Feya are always very exclusive, and I try to keep a safe distance from the brainless twits they call boys. So I'm just friends with the Rileys, the Zuvers, and the Andrews. I also have to put up with a cretinous troglodyte named Dmitri. He's russian, fifteen, but was adopted, so he's behind everyone else his age. He makes me so mad! After V teaches physics on Friday (he's part of the class, much to my agony) we generally walk up to the park for half an hour, and play around, which basically turns into football without a football. Like if I leap in front of Simon or Mark, like shielding him, Dmitri says something along the lines of : "Oooh, Natasha, you're the queen and (Simon/Mark) is the king!" And then Si or Mark says "Hey!" and tries to tackle him. And then he goes "Oh, wait, Nat, that would be you and Chris Andrews!" He is so stupid, and I don't want him ruining my friendship with the Rileys! What is his problem??? Revolting embicile that he is........

I love Gabby! Lessons are on a one month break (we're switching quarters) so I can't ride! So my Wednesday afternoons are open for homework, according to V. NOOO!!! Kathi, I wish I had your problem. Srsly, 'rents.

GTG,
Natasha

Hello! Um, not much news, really. Jaz, I wish you would stay in contact. Kathi, I'm still going to email you tomorrow, no worries. UGH!!! I had a concert on Tuesday, but that's pretty much it. I'm REALLY bored, and the week is flying by! This is like my shortest post ever. It's kinda sad.

OH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I actually do have a little news. I think I've figured out who wrote the note! Jake. GRRR... I figured it out last Thursday after I posted. Jake and Feya were sitting in the lounge while I was working on my essay, and Jake said "I think I saw you today" -- almost the EXACT SAME WORDING AS THE NOTE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Plus, I am 99% sure that he hates me. I think he has a crush on Feya. Maddie doesn't believe me, but oh well. Maddie and Feya are like, BFFS, which is okay, except there are only three people in sixth grade: wonderful, but not normal ME, Coel, who is currently LOSING HIS BRAIN, and Clay, who makes me sick to my stomach.

GTG,
Natasha

Hello! Hello! Hello! Okay, onto my week.
On Friday I went rollerskating in Volunteer Park with the Rileys. The Rileys live over at Queen Anne Hill, but we're friends; their mom teaches us Latin, and V teaches us Physics. There's Samantha, Sam, who just turned thirteen in October, Simon, who turned eleven in November, Mark, who turned eight in November, Beth, who's four, and Annalise, who is nine months old, and the most adorable thing on earth! We rollerbladed around while V and Sasha, their mom, sat on a bench and chatted, gossiped, and exclaimed over Lis, which is what I call Annalise. We had an awesome time. Then my dad came home and said he had to fly to Oakland for a conference on Saturday, last minute, so then I got a bit depressed, and refused to eat dinner. (which worked out well, any way, we were having chicken adobo, which is chicken boiled in soy sauce and spices, and long grain rice with brussel sprouts - gross!) I slugged through school the next day, and did all my homework on the bus, before I even got home.

V had had a good day, and she was humming 'Music of Jubilee', some organ music by Bach, under her breath. I scowled and slouched into the living room. "You know," said V, thoughtfully, "It's carnival time in Germany, right now. Let's have one." So then we dragged out flour, salt, nuts, chips, chunks, candy bars, dried fruit, etc., and we started baking. I ran to the stereo, and put in Carrie Underwood, whom V likes and I worship. We were mixing, and singing, and dancing. Everything came out GREAT except for this one batch of rustic butterscotch oatmeal cookies, which looked like greasy pancakes when we took them out. We gorged ourselves, and then stayed up until ungodly hours watching a Marx brothers marathon on tv. Then we got up early the next day and made brunch. We still felt bloated, so we put the sausage, danishes, sauted mushrooms, scrambled eggs, and french toast back in the fridge, and ate cinnamon toast.

Monday was okay, Tuesday, Garik said I didn't look good in my sweater (it was cranberry colored, ribbed, fuzzy, loose-fitting and warm. Who is he to talk? He's not exactly Micheal Kors! Srsly.) Wednesday V was ragging me about my essay, and today has been okay, so far. I had to go to a science class and a da vinci class at a different school. I knew where da vinci was, but I got lost, like, four times going to the science classrooms. Then I went into the wrong class! Turns out they had rescheduled it for half an hour later! Added onto my parents wouldn't let me take the bus there, because they "don't doubt my maturity or abilities, but there are too many weirdos out there." I said that V could drive me to the stop, wait there with me until the bus came, and go home, but she said, why go out twice when she could drop me off on the way to the gym? Grrr.

So, I've got to go. Kathi, sorry I haven't emailed, I've been sooo busy. Jaz, puhlease email.
Natasha