La fête...

Bonjour, mes amis! L'hier soir, je suis allée à la fête des Edwardses. C'était typique Edwards! Il y avait la musique américaine terrible dont je déteste. Chrisssa y était et Marisol pense qu'elle se regardait française aussi!
Mon dieu, mon dieu, mon dieu...
Last night, I went to the Edwards girls' party. It was so typical Edwards; there was terrible American music of which I hate. Chrissa was there and Marisol thought that she actually looked French!

Je ne voulais pas aller, mais Lilly m'a dit que la fête serait amusante. Et pourquoi pas? Je ne faisait pas quelque chose! I didn't really want to go, but Lilly told me that it would be fun. And why not? It wasn't like I was doing anything better.

Avant nous sommes parties, Nicki et Vicki sont entrées ma chambre! Elles ont crié que Lilly et moi, nous devrions bouger. Je ne connais pas ce que elles voulaient mais... Before we left, Nicki and Vicki entered my room! They screamed that we should move. I didn't know what they wanted but...

C'était une galère! It was a mess!

Kailey was waiting at the entrance to the party; I assumed that Alyson hired her or something. Yeah, and she just haaaad to let us know that we weren't invited. We already knew that; we didn't need a personal reminder, merci beaucoup.

Remembering how Nellie got kicked out of the party, I turned to Lilly and told her of my plan: I was going to lie to Kailey and say that I saw Nellie trying to enter through the garage. 

Kailey believed me, so when she took off to scream at Nellie, Lilly and I dashed into the party room.

I saw that Nicki and Vicki stole the scooter; it was knocked over, though. I wonder what they did with it. But knowing them, I probably don't want to know. Some things are just better left as a mystery.

"HI, SABS!" Chrissa. Grr. She is so obnoxious. Plus, she obviously hasn't gotten the hint that I don't want to be her friend nor do I want to talk to her. After she screamed and nearly punctured my eardrum, she told me that Marisol thinks she looks French.

Marisol did not look French. I can't stand how Americans think that boots, berets, and short skirts make them look French, because it seriously doesn't. Regardez-moi. I don't dress like that. Neither do the other French people I've seen.

Remember how Ashley chased Lilly and me out of her room? Well, she confronted us about it. She didn't catch our faces, but she saw long red hair and short hair. Fortunately, I was able to lie and say that Chrissa and Sandrine were the boa-knappers. Ashley seemed relieved, as was I, and said that she would talk to them.

What happens next, mes amis, is a mystery...

~Sabine