What I want to know is how the Alteration Society got started on campus at all. Doesn't the school screen school groups, or otherwise prevent eldritch horrors from beyond from preying on students? I mean, they weren't even that cheap! We PAID for those new uniforms. Sure, a large portion of the student body was irrevocably transformed into disgusting hybrid demon aliens, but how can I get my money back? Has anyone alerted the Psychic Better Business Bureau?

And there's nothing left at Dogwood, @xiirth. I saw the janitors sweeping out all the empty husk material and putting it into the incinerators today. Those ex-kids are probably to Saturn by now, and they're not coming back. At least I hope not, for all our sakes.

My roommate had to help me pin it down, but we got the tag cut off, @Chance Glance. The uniform really put up a fight but we wrestled it onto the floor and regular scissors worked fine. It oozed out some yellow stuff but I put some duct tape over it. It should be fine.

That Alteration Society tag in my new uniform is really bugging me. REALLY bugging me. I swear it's grown longer, and it's really biting into me. It's sharp and it's giving me a blister or something. There was a little blood. I'm going to snip it first thing in the morning.

Hey so what's this tag in my Alteration Society uniform? The one that says DO NOT REMOVE UNDER PENALTY OF THE WHOLE OF THE LAW? Does everybody's have one of those? I realized it's kind of bugging me, and I really want to clip it, but, I dunno...

Don't get me wrong, I still LOVE LOVE LOVE my new uniform. I'm like a totally new person - getting straight A's, everybody laughs at my jokes. But that little tag is sticking into me and it's like I notice it more and more each day...

This is AWESOME. I've never had something like this. Ever.

It's brown, with filigree wings which nobody can see. But the thing is that when I put it on I am like a leaf in the wind - like I'm riding tippy-toe on top of a wave. And by that I mean THE wave - the Huygens–Fresnel Chrono Wavefront.

So now I am totally on the ball.

Thanks Alteration Society!

Alright, I'm game. All I've got are Sunday School clothes and they're all uncomfortable. I'll put my sock in my window tonight, next to my Easter decorations. Which I haven't taken down yet. Obvs.

Back in the old country, my family raised Easter Grass. The hills around our farm were beautiful at harvest time, rolling with green and pink and yellow. But we were just a small family farm, and when the big corporate farms moved in with their genetically modified Easter Grass, not to mention Candy Corn and Tinsel, it was harder and harder to compete. There were winters where we had nothing to eat but Easter Grass. Easter Grass soup. Easter Grass salad. Easter Grass stew. My teeth and chin and fingers were always streaked with green and pink and yellow and it was embarrassing to be seen at school.

Eventually my family had to sell the land and move to the city, and now my father teaches people how to grow Easter Grass in the traditional way in their community gardens and in back yards. He grows the finest artisanal Easter Grass and sells it at the holiday farmers markets and trendy health food stores. He had an offer to distribute through Martha Stewart but in order to produce the necessary volume he would have to compromise his methods, which would defeat the whole purpose. So he's happy sticking with the old ways, even if that means he'll never be a millionaire.