Not Crazy-Just Different!
Today on Biography: DARBY HOLLIWETHER
October 2nd
9:02 AM
Mmm. Just woke up and remembered the glorious events of last night's dance. Derrick is a great guy. And Oliver is happy again! And, well, um, Percy doesn't know I like him. GRRR!
Why didn't I tell him? I am SUCH a frickin' wuss! What is the worst that could happen? Seriously, it isn't like he'd laugh at me I guess!
Fudge. I slept through breakfast. Arrgh, I'm such a fool. Anyways, I'll just eat some Jollies instead to hold me over.
9:15 AM
Mmm. That was a great breakfast. I'm going to talk to Ollie.
4:35 PM
Oh man, my hand is KILLING me.
Well, I went downstairs to the common room. He was sitting on the sofa reading Gone With the Wind, half laying down with his feet on the couch, something that drives McGonagall crazy. Hahaha.
"Hey Ollie," I said, sitting down next to him and looking over the top of the book to see what part he was reading.
"Hi Darby," he said in his old cheery way, which was a refreshing change from his misery that had plagued him before.
You know what? I think I just realized I don't like Percy anymore! SUCCESS! Anyways.
"So what's up with you?" I asked, settling back.
"Oh. My parents sent me a letter, and they said I can't come home for Christmas because apparently they've decided to go on a cruise," Ollie said glumly.
"Really? That's too bad. Where are they going?"
"Ugh. They're going to Hawaii, or something like that. One of those tropical sort of places."
"Really? Hmm. I can ask Sammy if you can come back with me for Christmas. The grandparents will be there a lot, but Sammy and Chandler LOVE you and Percy," I thought out loud. "Was Percy going to be going home?"
"No, I think that his parents were going to see his brother. Charlie, I think."
"Oh, awesome! My mom and dad won't care. They said they're sorry about missing my birthday, though," Oliver said bitterly.
"That's right! Your birthday is the 23rd, right?" I asked.
"Twenty fourth."
"Oh, yeah. I was just testing to see if you remembered. Hey, Christmas Eve. That's cool," I mused.
"Pretty much. Double the presents," he agreed.
"Cool. I'll write to the 'rents and see if you two can come," I confirmed.
"So, even Chandler likes me?" Oliver asked, a smile on his face. He knows as well as I do that there aren't many people Chandler likes. One time I put up a poster of Geoff Rowley and he came in my room and took one look at it and said "You know what? He looks a lot like Andy Griffith." WHAT! He just said that to get a rise out of me. What does a good looking skateboarder have in common with ANDY TAYLOR, sheriff of Mayberry?!
Sometimes I think I my grandparent's apparent 'sane' genes skipped a generation with my parents. I love them, but they're WEIRD!
"Yeah! I mean, I've only been attempting to explain Quidditch to him for four years. And then you do it in ten minutes! I've made charts and diagrams, and you do it with a napkin and your 'Quidditch captain' token understanding of the game," I said in disbelief. "He loved that! Usually, he doesn't like anybody (except Sammy and I)."
"I guess so. I mean, he hates your iguana, right?" Oliver said.
"Well, actually, Sammy told me he feeds Bizzy now a lot," I recalled.
"Oh really?" I nodded. "That's cool. Hey, at least he let me walk Bizzy around the house even when he was home from work."
"Oh man, he used to HATE IT when I did that," I mused with a small chuckle.
"What is his job anyways?" Oliver asked suddenly. "I never really picked up on that."
"He's a civil engineer. He fixes sewers and parking lots. It's boring. I only go to work with him sometimes to play on the fire escape and raid their candy dish," I confessed. Ollie doubled over in laughter.
"I can just imagine you, sitting out on the fire escape eating Jollies and reading Gone With the Wind," Oliver said.
"You know, I've gotten locked out on that fire escape several times in the middle of winter. It's NOT fun," I replied.
"I can imagine. Hey, I'll write to my parents tonight and ask."
"Neat, I'll write mine too. Hey, do you want to play Hand Tennis?" I asked.
"All right. But I know I can beat you!" So we held left hands and delivered solid smacks to the other person's hand. This went on for ten minutes, until my hand our hands were bright red. Oliver just all of a sudden SLAPPED my hand as hard as he could, and he's very strong, albeit a little skinny looking.
"Ahhhhh!" I yelled, dropping his hand and clutching my own and blowing on it quickly and frantically.
"Oh my gosh, I'm SO sorry!" Oliver said, grabbing my hand quickly. "I thought you might be able to take that!"
"Well, look! You exploded some of my blood vessels, I think!" I squealed, jabbing a finger at the general direction of some dark red spots that were springing up on my hand as we spoke.
"Darby, I'm sorry! It was an accident. And I think you hurt MY hand too!" Oliver said loudly, holding up his hand for me to see.
"Oh fine. Anyways, it doesn't hurt to bad. I'm tough," I lied, with a fake smile. Oliver gave me a look. "Okay. Let me see," I ordered, snatching at his hand. It was red. I jabbed at it. "Does this hurt?" I said, jokingly.
Oliver howled. "Jeez, Darby! That HURT!" he whimpered.
"I'm sorry," I said sincerely. "I just couldn't help it." He scowled. I held his hand in mine. "Ouch. Sorry I slapped you, even though YOU slapped ME even harder!"
Ollie shrugged. "Hey, don't blame me because YOU suggested it first, Darby," he reminded me.
"Fine, whatever," I grumbled. I covered his hand with my own.
"Sheesh, Darby. You sure can hurt a guy. I mean, so far this year, you've backhanded Flint, kicked me in 'the bad spot' and slapped the crap outta my hand. What are you going to do now, poke Snape in the eye with a pencil if he yells at you?" Oliver complained, an amused look on his face.
Well, that IS true. I have caused and received a lot of pain this year, what with hurting guys who make me angry and the tailbone incident (as I still refer to it out of spite).
10:34 PM
My hand hurts! MEMO TO SELF: Kill Oliver!
October 2nd
9:02 AM
Mmm. Just woke up and remembered the glorious events of last night's dance. Derrick is a great guy. And Oliver is happy again! And, well, um, Percy doesn't know I like him. GRRR!
Why didn't I tell him? I am SUCH a frickin' wuss! What is the worst that could happen? Seriously, it isn't like he'd laugh at me I guess!
Fudge. I slept through breakfast. Arrgh, I'm such a fool. Anyways, I'll just eat some Jollies instead to hold me over.
9:15 AM
Mmm. That was a great breakfast. I'm going to talk to Ollie.
4:35 PM
Oh man, my hand is KILLING me.
Well, I went downstairs to the common room. He was sitting on the sofa reading Gone With the Wind, half laying down with his feet on the couch, something that drives McGonagall crazy. Hahaha.
"Hey Ollie," I said, sitting down next to him and looking over the top of the book to see what part he was reading.
"Hi Darby," he said in his old cheery way, which was a refreshing change from his misery that had plagued him before.
You know what? I think I just realized I don't like Percy anymore! SUCCESS! Anyways.
"So what's up with you?" I asked, settling back.
"Oh. My parents sent me a letter, and they said I can't come home for Christmas because apparently they've decided to go on a cruise," Ollie said glumly.
"Really? That's too bad. Where are they going?"
"Ugh. They're going to Hawaii, or something like that. One of those tropical sort of places."
"Really? Hmm. I can ask Sammy if you can come back with me for Christmas. The grandparents will be there a lot, but Sammy and Chandler LOVE you and Percy," I thought out loud. "Was Percy going to be going home?"
"No, I think that his parents were going to see his brother. Charlie, I think."
"Oh, awesome! My mom and dad won't care. They said they're sorry about missing my birthday, though," Oliver said bitterly.
"That's right! Your birthday is the 23rd, right?" I asked.
"Twenty fourth."
"Oh, yeah. I was just testing to see if you remembered. Hey, Christmas Eve. That's cool," I mused.
"Pretty much. Double the presents," he agreed.
"Cool. I'll write to the 'rents and see if you two can come," I confirmed.
"So, even Chandler likes me?" Oliver asked, a smile on his face. He knows as well as I do that there aren't many people Chandler likes. One time I put up a poster of Geoff Rowley and he came in my room and took one look at it and said "You know what? He looks a lot like Andy Griffith." WHAT! He just said that to get a rise out of me. What does a good looking skateboarder have in common with ANDY TAYLOR, sheriff of Mayberry?!
Sometimes I think I my grandparent's apparent 'sane' genes skipped a generation with my parents. I love them, but they're WEIRD!
"Yeah! I mean, I've only been attempting to explain Quidditch to him for four years. And then you do it in ten minutes! I've made charts and diagrams, and you do it with a napkin and your 'Quidditch captain' token understanding of the game," I said in disbelief. "He loved that! Usually, he doesn't like anybody (except Sammy and I)."
"I guess so. I mean, he hates your iguana, right?" Oliver said.
"Well, actually, Sammy told me he feeds Bizzy now a lot," I recalled.
"Oh really?" I nodded. "That's cool. Hey, at least he let me walk Bizzy around the house even when he was home from work."
"Oh man, he used to HATE IT when I did that," I mused with a small chuckle.
"What is his job anyways?" Oliver asked suddenly. "I never really picked up on that."
"He's a civil engineer. He fixes sewers and parking lots. It's boring. I only go to work with him sometimes to play on the fire escape and raid their candy dish," I confessed. Ollie doubled over in laughter.
"I can just imagine you, sitting out on the fire escape eating Jollies and reading Gone With the Wind," Oliver said.
"You know, I've gotten locked out on that fire escape several times in the middle of winter. It's NOT fun," I replied.
"I can imagine. Hey, I'll write to my parents tonight and ask."
"Neat, I'll write mine too. Hey, do you want to play Hand Tennis?" I asked.
"All right. But I know I can beat you!" So we held left hands and delivered solid smacks to the other person's hand. This went on for ten minutes, until my hand our hands were bright red. Oliver just all of a sudden SLAPPED my hand as hard as he could, and he's very strong, albeit a little skinny looking.
"Ahhhhh!" I yelled, dropping his hand and clutching my own and blowing on it quickly and frantically.
"Oh my gosh, I'm SO sorry!" Oliver said, grabbing my hand quickly. "I thought you might be able to take that!"
"Well, look! You exploded some of my blood vessels, I think!" I squealed, jabbing a finger at the general direction of some dark red spots that were springing up on my hand as we spoke.
"Darby, I'm sorry! It was an accident. And I think you hurt MY hand too!" Oliver said loudly, holding up his hand for me to see.
"Oh fine. Anyways, it doesn't hurt to bad. I'm tough," I lied, with a fake smile. Oliver gave me a look. "Okay. Let me see," I ordered, snatching at his hand. It was red. I jabbed at it. "Does this hurt?" I said, jokingly.
Oliver howled. "Jeez, Darby! That HURT!" he whimpered.
"I'm sorry," I said sincerely. "I just couldn't help it." He scowled. I held his hand in mine. "Ouch. Sorry I slapped you, even though YOU slapped ME even harder!"
Ollie shrugged. "Hey, don't blame me because YOU suggested it first, Darby," he reminded me.
"Fine, whatever," I grumbled. I covered his hand with my own.
"Sheesh, Darby. You sure can hurt a guy. I mean, so far this year, you've backhanded Flint, kicked me in 'the bad spot' and slapped the crap outta my hand. What are you going to do now, poke Snape in the eye with a pencil if he yells at you?" Oliver complained, an amused look on his face.
Well, that IS true. I have caused and received a lot of pain this year, what with hurting guys who make me angry and the tailbone incident (as I still refer to it out of spite).
10:34 PM
My hand hurts! MEMO TO SELF: Kill Oliver!
