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Baka-baka's Template for Objectives of Inscribing One's Unsystematic Contemplations and Deliberations
I think the name pretty much covers it all.
Entry the Eighth.
Is that really how you spell Eighth? Weird.. Meh, oh well.

So, alas, it's summer break. Last two days of school were interesting though.
See, we had a half-day on Friday (for those taking finals to take finals, respectively. And as for those who weren't, it's a free day, basically.) and what was weird about it was we that after, we had a three-day weekend, only to come back for a half-day on Tuesday. Many thought it 'retarded'. I thought it a chance for me to bring and set up DDR, which is what I typically do. 3nodding Anyway, on Friday, I left it up at the school, because they were having their somethingth annual Senior Grad Night---basically, a party at the school, for--as the name implies--the Senior Grads, wherein they rock out for a bit, then have an overnight at the school.

The school contacted me and asked if I could supply them with a DDR. I guess I've somehow gotten myself into a reputation with the school as the official DDR supplier or something.

Which brings me to another story that I don't think I've told. It'll only take a minute, I swear! Besides, it's not like I'm going anywhere or making any points with this entry anyway.

So, earlier in the year, I was pshyced to find out our school was going to have a DDR-themed Coronation (a school dance, of some sort or other). I could not tell you how excited I was. I even went cosplaying Emi. See below.
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The bulletin board at our school.

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((Crappy cosplay!! gonk ))

Anyway, I was all hyped up thinking that the school was actually going to rent an arcade-style machine. I went to the person in charge even to make sure of this. They told me they were trying, but they doubted it, becaues the people they'd been contacting to deliver one made it seem like it was too much trouble for them. This slightly upset me.
I don't know what I did, but the next thing I knew, I was supplying the school with a DDR home system, and I found myself along with Delicioius Milkshake, scrambling about all over town and on the phone with other people who owned DDR, trying to rally up five PS2s, and the respective amounts of pads to go with each PS2, enabling up to 2 people play. That was actually accomplished in the end, and from that I think is how I found myself to be the official DDR supplier of the school.

Now, where was I? Oh yes, Grad Night. So, in anycase, I lent them a DDR for the weekend, and on Tuesday, went to reclaim it. I had immediately noticed that the plastic part on the front of the pad was busted open as though someone had been playing with shoes on, and had horrible aim. In fact, a friend of mine, Joe, had been at senior night, though he was a junior, and told me before I went into the office, that he saw the pads and said they looked in bad shape.
I ignored this though, because as far as I was concerned, the pads still worked. They were just a safety hazard to small babies crawling on the floor, who decided to stick their fingers in or chew on the exposed wires and electrical bits. I don't own any babies, so I wasn't so concerned.

I later plugged them in, to find out that one of them didn't work at all. Realizing what had happened, I paused, poked at the pad a few more times to make sure it was truely dead, then went off yelling, "Those bastards busted my freaking pad! That's it, the school's buying me a new one!" I then regained myself and realized I really didn't expect them to actually do that, but it'd have been greatly appreciated. I mean, I've had pads that stopped working entirely, but that was over a course of years---not one night.

After some time, I actually did consult the staff member in charge of my DDR stuff, and told her precisely this: "I don't expect you guys to do anything about this, but I'd just like you to know for future reasons, that both of the top plastic parts on my pads are busted open, and one of them no longer works at all." She seemed really suprised about it, and asked how much they were. I told her "about twenty dollars." though I wasn't sure. My friend with me at the time, Abunai, later told me that I should've told her it cost 60 or 100 bucks or something... xd
Anyway, she then sort of turned the situation around and said "Well you know, all of my helpers I have at Grad Night are Juniors, so next year, listen in the announcements around that time, and be sure to come down here and sign up, so that you can be in charge of all that, or whatever, alright?"
This was definitely something for me to think about.
She eventually went to her purse, saying "That shouldn't have happened; I have replacement money for you." And again, I told her that I didn't expect them to do anything about it.

Pause---I know, I'm an idiot. Anyone else would've directly said "pay me back or replace my pads, biznitch!" And thought inside I would've loved to have them replace them, I didn't want to come right out and demand it. I also kind of felt guilty about it somehow. Going to a staff member and taking money from them. I don't know. It's like, I wanted it replaced, but I wanted to let them know politely and discreetly as possible.

And after that, she paused and looked like she was going to shove the money back down into her purse, saying "Oh, are you sure?" You could tell she wasn't exactly willing to jump at the chance to replace what was destroyed under her supervision. Abunai shot me a glance and said for me, "Well, maybe you should take the money; at least for the one that's totally broken." At that, I said "Yeah..." feeling a little akward, as if being studied intently for my answer. She handed me two 10's and said "There you go now, is that okay with you?" And then came the "Yes, thank you"s and "No problem"s and all that follows those situations typically..

Anyway, that was that. I still need to go buy me a new pad. sweatdrop

But my summer's been good so far, on another note. The other day I helped a friend of mine paint an antique desk. As long as she can remember, there's always been this one drawer on it that wouldn't open, and her and my sister decided to pry it out. She said that she'd always thought that there were money or some kind of treasure in there because it would never open.
In a matter of seconds though, they had it opened, somehow.
There in fact was something in there.
Not money.
Not riches.
Not a treasure map.
There were two, small, identical packages. They looked at them for a moment, then my sister asked "What are they?". Picking one up, my friend said "I'm... not sure." I grabbed it from her, and we studied it for a moment.
It was an old---looked like it was made in, oh, about the 50's or 60's---red and white package that read, "DANCO" in big letters, "made in Japan" at the bottom, and a big, black, rubbery circular thing within the see-through part of the package. We both read the text at the top.

"Spare Rubber Toilet Valve".

We took a moment to think about what the hell a toilet valve actually was, then decided that this was a most awesome find. 3nodding





 
 
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