I was varnishing in IA, adding extra flare to my project by paper-mache-ing to it classified ads from the newspaper covering the table, and I was feeling sorry for myself. It had been a bad day.
I decided to cheer myself up. I don't do this sort of thing on a regular basis, but I needed something to pass the time until the bell rang and the class ended.
Today I felt sorry for a teacher.
A substitute one, that is.
I thought I would end up hating her ("Greg", my classmates had told me, "you're gonna loooove this teacher). Urg. Ominous.
Today I tried and failed, with three different dictionaries, to convince our English teacher that the "b" was pronounced in "subterfuge".
Our. English. Teacher.
Well, she could be worse.
The intern from the local university didn't even know what the stupid word meant until she found it on our middle school spelling list.
That was. Subtle.
I'm not sure how they can convince people with that, though. They didn't actually take any risks where creativity is concerned.
Is it weird that the only thing I look forward to on Tuesdays is a TV show?
Bleck. Tuesdays are useless.
Steal HONEY! Beware, be-waaa-aare!
Aaah...the honey-flavoured goodness of Winnie the Pooh.
I'm feeling random tonight. Can you tell?
And since I'm feeling random, it would only be fitting to organize my journal accordingly.
Random point number one: It just occurred to me today that ten percent of cartoon characters are statistically bound to be gay.
What'd I miss?
'Cuz, you know, I'm really beginning to suspect that I've missed something. I've been asleep for a horrifyingly long time.
And I'm squinting partly because a), I broke something significant in the computer, and am now totally graphics-less, leaving me to write a journal entry with nothing but a squint-worthy command prompt; and b), stupidity just makes my eyes tense. Like...this, for example:
Apathy, as I think I've previously commented, happens when people wait for somebody else to save them.
Well, today, somebody else saved me. Actually, two somebody elses: two, nosy, girl somebody elses. Remember that girl that was crushing on me? Yeah. That one.
*Picks up book*
*Quivers and Hugs Himself*
Let's see: I g-o-ot (*rustles through pile*), Boy Meets Boy, A Clockwork Orange, Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency, The Long, Dark Tea-Time of the Soul, aaand something I picked at random called "Shattered Glass". And a Bescherelle to help me along with my French Verbs. A few more, too, but none I can really remember...
I'm feeling pretty good about it all, right now.
Because right now it's quiet. Because, right now, it smells like leaves outside. Because right now, I'm. Peacefully. Alone.
Smells like rotting leaves, and not of the unmovable, unstoppable life of the weekday.
An MSN conversation, to the best of my recollection
The previously mentioned, girl-who-seems-to-really-like-me was brought up.
Person I was chatting with (we'll call this one, "Flossy"): You looove her.
Me: No I don't
Flossy: Yes you do
Me: No. You are so off the mark, it's not even funny.
As in the strong, silent Old Navy commercial from my homeroom is finally doing something to me.
All through September I was vaguely worried when he wasn't doing anything to me. Actually, I barely felt anything for anything, then. Testosterone, I've come to realize, doesn't seem to be the sort of thing that likes come in particularly even doses for me.