Peculiar and Bewildered

I stared at my vocabulary list and began to moan. I turned over on the couch, face pressed into a pillow and an arm and a leg lying limp on the floor and began grumbling. "These words are so DUMB! How am I supposed to learn this?" I lifted my head to see jostling, peculiar, and bewildered--the three words I simply could not memorize--staring menacingly at me. I scowled back, then quickly dropped my head back to the indent it had made in the pillow. I began to flail my arms and legs like a crazed octopus until the sounds of footsteps left my limbs frozen in the air. "Mandy?"
I bounced up, and tried to preserve the little ounce of dignity I still possessed by sitting primly on the couch--straight posture and hands folded in my lap. "Whaa-what's wrong with you?" Dad asked, his brows furrowed and his lips quivering (probably struggling to not turn up into a smile). "Oh, you know. Studying." I turned my head to the side and began to casually scratch the back of my head. Dad didn't buy it: he knew I was a crazy person. Dad sat in the chair beside me, extended his arm, and wiggled his fingers back and forth--signaling me to surrender the list. He studied it for a moment, and then asked, "Could you use some inspiration?" My eyes lit up.