Letter to My Freshman Self

Dear Freshman Self,

First off, I know you'll doubt this is actually me. You. Whatever. Some proof? In the middle of eighth grade, you started a slam book and became closer friends with K. Within, you discussed boys, K's falling-out with M, and science class (in science class- you/we passed it back and forth like crazy; you'll be amused to discover that now, four years after the slam book, K and I have been assigned to sit next to each other in Bio II, and she still rants to me about stuff and things). It was like controlled gossip. Oh, not enough proof? God, I'm a hell of a jaded freshman. One of your friends- L- had a sex dream about your seventh grade English teacher, in the seventh grade. Enough proof? Yeah, I thought so. Now stop thinking about your teacher like that. Stop it. Stop. Okay, moving on- hey, I told you to stop!

Second off, I'd like to congratulate you. You've made it through the tough part, babe. I know you're not sure about it and that you've heard horror stories, but it's really so, so much better than middle school ever had a chance at being, and everything beats elementary school, right? (Elementary does have one advantage high school doesn't: nap time. It doesn't seem like anything now, but by senior year, you'll be begging teachers to let you nap. Spoiler alert, they won't let you.)

Seriously, though, high school will kick ass. There's a higher level of freedom. It won't feel like it at times- hell, it'll feel like they're giving you the responsibilities of an adult with all the trust and liberty of a third grader. And sometimes, that'll be true. Other times, you'll be having the time of your life. Between super-fun classes, friends, and... uhm... the school food (there exists a seniors-only tradition of throwing apples at the brick wall outside the cafeteria), the years will fly by.

Your freshman year will be a piece of cake, trust me. Everyone has the basic classes, and you'll throw in Career Management as well. The teacher is a silly old fart, and he'll have you draw lots of pictures. Easy A. Plus, you'll move in with Mother, and Mrs. A will start to take you to school! Yes, you'll have fallen out of love with her son by that point, you silly goose.

Speaking of love- freshman year, you'll be clear. Your friends will involve themselves with others, but other than an ill-fated, super-chaperoned movie date with McN (spoiler alert, you smash your fingers in the car door and spill nacho cheese on your way in), you'll keep on flying solo. Sophomore year, you'll screw yourself over. You'll say "I love you" without meaning it and because you're scared. He'll say it after, like, three days! And you'll break up after, like, two weeks! And then you'll go back to him, because you're a dumbshit. It'll all work out eventually, though. He's a dick, and you'll figure that out. Also sophomore year, you'll start to have a thing for BK. Yes, he was the first guy to call you a bitch. Yes, you and he made up freshman year. Yes, he has magnificent hair. Yes, he likes you, too. Yes, RD will call you crazy. Yes, you're crazy. BK is not for you, no matter how great the terrible hour-long television dramas he recommend are.

At the very end of sophomore year, you'll meet a nice boy. You'll be entranced with him. He's a junior. He's a loner. You'll attempt to Facebook stalk him, but you won't find him until summertime. You and he will be enchanted by one another: you'll stay up IMing on Facebook until 4 AM a few times! He'll suck you into his nerdy online RPGs! He'll hit on you with Star Trek references! It'll be wonderful. Have fun talking with him.

From there on, no more spoilers. I don't want to ruin a good time by spoiling the ending, and I don't want to draw out a lengthy, emotional explanation of how you'll get from there to where I am today.

By the way, make sure to put in the Governor's School applications on time November of your junior year! It's worth it. You'll have the time of your life. You'll make new friends. You'll figure out what you do and don't want that you do or don't have.

Oh, and make sure to remember to start putting in your applications on time your senior year instead of writing imaginary letters to your freshman self. Shit's important!

With much love and luck,

Your senior self

Relationship Types I've Observed

Better as Friends


Example: Bad Boy and I, Hammy and Ember


Description: One of the two is romantically interested in the other. The other is flattered by the attention- so flattered, in fact, that he or she begins to return the feelings. They date, but one or the other eventually realized they were only in it for the feelings they were getting out of it and that the two would be better off friends.

How long does it last? Three weeks to a month.

Only There for the Title


Example: Drummer and I, Bad Boy and Ember

Description: At least one of the two parties involved is in it only for the title of Boyfriend or Girlfriend. They don't find the other person irresistible; they just really want to be in a relationship, and it doesn't necessarily matter with whom. Eventually one or both parties realize that the whole thing is pretty much a sham devoid of any actual emotional involvement.

How long does it last? One to two weeks.

Potential for Sexytimes?


Example: Donkey and Ember, Whiny Bitch and I

Description: One party is emotionally involved while the other is simply looking for someone to easily manipulate into sex. It isn't always the male looking for sexytimes, but I have yet to see a female in that position (perhaps I'm just too young for my social group to have that happen yet). Generally the emotionally involved party ends up heartbroken regardless of if they give in or not (you'll be glad to hear that neither Ember nor I gave in).

How long does it last? It really depends on how long it takes for the sexytimes-craving party to make it clear that's what he or she is there for. A couple of weeks, maximum.

Stuck in Tar


Example: Xeno and HipsterGurl

Description: Both parties are emotionally involved in the start. Seems healthy, right? Then one party starts getting jealous of the other person's friends. That party is hurt when the other person doesn't talk on the phone for two hours a night. That party is jealous when the other person spends time with people other than mutual friends, and even with mutual friends if that's without the jealousy-prone party. The jealous party becomes an emotional wreck, telling the other person that this relationship is his or her life and that life would be meaningless without it and that this has been the only thing keeping that person sane. The non-jealousy-prone party is scared, and it takes him or her months to work up the nerve to break it off. Even after the breakup, the jealousy-prone party will pretend inside his or her head that the two are still in a relationship, much to the chagrin of every other fucking person around him or her.

How long does it last? Six to twelve months, depending on the level of clinginess and the severity of the threats of what will happen should the relationship end.

Who Are You?


Example: Guillermo and Crazy Bitch, Whiny Bitch and I

Description: These two don't know each other very well when they start dating. They weren't friends for a while first- maybe they met through a mutual friend, maybe they met at a party, but they haven't known each other for more than a few days when one asks the other out. Sometimes they hit it off and all is well, but other times one party or the other realizes what kind of crazy they're dealing with.

How long does it last? Two weeks to two months, depending on the level of crazy.

Forever Fighting


Example: The Calculus Couple

Description: These two never stop fucking fighting and nagging at each other. "Babe, how could you mess that up?" "Ugh, your hair is getting too long." "That wasn't rude, it was perfectly justified." It doesn't look that bad as text, but when it's said with the level of exasperated disdain these two manage, and when it's this constant (to the point that when someone asks a friend of the two where they are, that friend replies with "Off somewhere arguing about some stupid bullshit, I'm sure.") it's emotionally scarring even for those not in the relationship but simply in its general proximity.

How long does it last? If the two don't realize what's going on, upwards of a year.

-------

Well, that does it for now. No comment on the shape of mine and Kirby's relationship- it's going well, and I don't want to give that shit a description or a timeframe. That would just be depressing, you know?

Looking back at the examples and seeing how many of them include me makes this feel like the Taylor Swift song of blog posts.

Anyways, what kind of relationships have you been in, readers? Do you have any suggestions for additional types or subtypes? Reply with a comment!

My Grades Have Gone to Hell

I made an 81 (an 80.8, really) on the first part of a test in Chemistry, and a 67 (a 66.666...) on the second part. I'm missing lots of assignments for this quarter in Spanish 3. Edit: "Lots" being relative. The way our grading system works, you average the first and second quarter together to get the semester grade. Both quarters are fifty percent of your semester grade. I'm missing one of very few assignments and made a terrible grade on another this quarter, so it's a very low grade (a D!) being averaged with my B from quarter one to get my shitty-ass semester grade.

Only three people in Chemistry passed the first part of that test. You'd think the teacher would realize that if only three of twenty-something people pass an examination, it may not be us. It may be his sorry ass. And that maybe he should really get his lazy-ass self into fucking gear and do some legitimate motherfucking teaching. Maybe even engage us students. Fuck him. He can suck a dick.

It would seem he has yet to put those grades in. Or maybe he has, and my extra credit from last semester is just really kicking ass. Edit: Logic! He hasn't put them in yet. There's not a terrible grade under Q2.

Here's a snapshot from the online grades system:

I Loathe Picture Day

I hate picture day with a fiery passion.

It's mostly with vanity in mind: I can't stand having a picture of myself I can't get rid of. I hate pictures of myself. I look terrible. I'm the least photogenic person one could ever possibly meet. It's just bad. With most pictures of me (taken by friends, family, or myself), I get a say in whether a photo is shown off or placed somewhere.

Not so in this case. This gets put in the yearbook, and if it looks terrible, you get one chance to make it up- and even if the second picture makes the horrible first photo look like a work of art, they'll still just put the second one in the yearbook.

No control, and I look like shit no matter what.

I loathe picture day.

Junior Year Sucks Major Dick.

Just saying.

This blog is called [[insert complaining here]] for a reason. And a damn good 'un at that. I complain. Profusely. Here we go. If I type this quickly enough, I can get back to Facebook-stalking the shit out of my latest male interest and still have time to make and use my damn flash cards.

At the same time that my school switched from a block schedule (four classes per semester, ninety minutes each a day, for a total of eight per year) to a, I dunno, regular high school schedule (seven classes a year, forty-five minutes each a day, the same classes all semester), I switched from taking regular old "smart people" classes to taking goddamn college-level classes. Fuckin' bullshit.

I'm now dealing with AP Calculus AB (not too terrible, probably my favorite subject overall), AP English 3 (not terrible in and of itself, but the workload can be irritating and I honestly don't give a flying fuck about symbolism or whatever the fuck and am of the opinion that most of it is utter bullshit), AP US History (which has potential for being mildly interesting if it weren't for the son of a bitch who teaches it), AP European History (tolerable, if only because the teacher is awesome), Spanish 3 (much more of a bitch than Spanish 1 and 2, which I really should have expected), Theater 2 (my easy class... for now; I think later this year when we do the show/production/play/whatever the hell my teacher is calling it today, I'll just have a breakdown), and Chemistry (I only slightly tolerate science- and even that is only for the cool shit- and this class is all the worse because, as a state-required class, it is super-easy and incredibly tedious; at least the teacher likes me).

That said, I'm just in a terrible mood today, so you probably shouldn't take any of that ranting at face value. I've been feeling like shit all day. All fragile and sickly and whatever the fuck.

I'm just going to get offline and make some flash cards now. I hope you have fun doing whatever non-AP fun shit you're doing. Fucker.

Little Moments

Over the second semester of last year, there were... moments. Moments where I caught myself feeling way beyond what I probably should have. I don't even know this guy's favorite color. I have no idea what kind of music he listens to. But are those arbitrary things? Do they matter? I think they do, but I have no idea. I've known (well, known of, certainly) this guy since the seventh grade. We never really spoke a ton, even though we've had every math class together from the seventh grade forward. That changed last semester, though.

We were all hanging out in the science classroom before class. For whatever reason, I brought it upon myself to make fun of him (we're talking about the President here, the same guy I've been rambling about the last few posts). When the teacher said we were going to draw random seats, I said something along the lines of, "God forbid I get stuck sitting next to you," to the President. So, of course, I ended up sitting next to him for the first half of the semester.

I had the sniffles something awful, so I was rather noisy that first week of the semester. At some point, the President said, "Well, that's attractive," and all of a sudden something in my head clicked and I thought, "Oh, no!" a la Mike Birbiglia. I thought it would go away, but of course it didn't. By Valentine's Day, I was dating someone else, and when he asked if he could be my Valentine, I said no in a more snippy manner than intended. He just said, "Oh."

Before then, we'd joked all the time about how clearly I was desperately in love with him, and at some point he'd tripped up making a joke about babies and had somehow managed to imply that I was going to have his babies. (I'm laughing just remembering it- at first he stuttered, trying to fix it, but then he just went along with it, which was even funnier.)

After that, it was weird for a week or two. Eventually we got back to normal, though we didn't joke about being in love with each other as much. I go back and forth between thinking that it's because he realized I liked him and didn't want to egg me on and that it's because he realized he liked me and didn't want to accidentally seem too obvious.

One time in the library, we were sitting talking at one of the tables- our math teacher was off doing something or other and had sent our class to the library for a few days- and we were talking about all the books in my bag. I said something about how they weren't going to fit in my purse, and I believe I started pulling things out of my purse and stacking them rather precariously. Of course, my calculator (a lovely bulky TI-84 Plus, my little baby) fell, and he caught it against my leg. Either he held it there for a second too long, or my mind stopped time for a moment. The latter is incredibly likely.

And then there's the time we did a science experiment involving burning metal solutions to determine which metals burned which color flames. The teacher, being an advocate for general safety and not catching on fire in the classroom, warned us all to pull back long hair and long sleeves. I pulled my hair- which I'd been wearing down regularly (without putting any effort into it) since it was cold as fuck- up into a bun while the President pulled his sweatshirt off. Which, by the way, he looked very good in, but even better out of. He can really pull off a t-shirt and jeans. Anyways, he looked at me and said, "You look... different with your hair up." I don't remember what I did, but I probably shrugged or some such. When my dear friend... hmm, what shall I call her? Oh, I know, Luna! When my dear friend Luna came over, she (as usual) told me I was looking exceptionally sexy. So, of course, I said in a very clearly-joking arrogant voice, "Yeah, [the President] here thinks so, too." And Luna and I laughed. But I thought- I could have sworn- I heard him say something along the lines of, "That was the message I was trying to get across," or "That was the general point." It was a while ago, so I don't remember the exact phrase, but it was something like that. But I think I imagined it.

To quote the great Brad Paisley, "Yeah, I live for little moments like that."

Relationshit Rambling

So there's this guy. Same guy I was describing last post. He calls me "m'lady" on Facebook, or sometimes "madame." He uses old words and lolspeak in the same sentence. I don't know him like I knew Pansy Boy or Macarrones or even the President. The extent of our interaction has been Facebook conversations. Over 3000 IMs and messages have been exchanged, according to Facebook.

But I can't make myself be rational like I usually am. With Macarrones, it was all, "I'm not attracted to you in a romantic manner, therefore we shouldn't date." And with Pansy Boy, it was, "I can't stand you and your sense of humor ninety percent of the time, and my life isn't a romcom, so we shouldn't date." With the President, it was, "You don't feel the same way. I get it. I'm moved on now." Edit: Bahaha, yeah right. "Moved on," my ass.

But with this guy, I can't be rational like that. I can't just say to myself, "You don't know him." And it sucks. I'm not good at just giving it all up and being happy, especially after the whole Pansy Boy ordeal and all my new little rules and self-discipline about using the l-word. I'd say, "Maybe he's here to tell me I have to break those rules," but, like I said before, my life isn't a romantic comedy. My life is a shitty indie film. There's a difference, and I accept that.

And at the same time, I don't even want to try to be rational. Anyone else in my situation would sit here and listen to Lily Allen and smile like a fool and say, "Fuck the work for my online class, I'm getting on Spiral Knights." But no. I'm me, so of course that wouldn't work.

The fuck do I have a blog?

By the way, the title of this post should link to the most awesome virtual mix tape ever for the state of my mind right now. You're welcome.

Schoolwork Over the Summer

I don't mind it. I, personally, have to read two books (Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and Invisible Man) and answer one to two composition notebooks' worth of questions about them. For my own personal bettering in literature, I'm also working my way through The Norton Introduction to Literature: Shorter Eighth Edition. That's for AP English 3.

I'm also taking Personal Finance online this summer. I've always been able to grasp things quickly and teach myself when necessary, so why not? It's a required credit, and I'd rather take it in a month over a summer rather than spend one-seventh of my senior year wasting my time with it.

Now, I can understand why, after a certain point, homework can seem ridiculous- for example, the 10-minutes-per-grade rule: that you take your grade (for a high school junior, that would be 11) and multiply it by ten to get the number of minutes you should reasonably spend on homework. I, personally, never spent 100 minutes on homework last year, as a sophomore, and I don't intend on spending 110 minutes on homework next year.

Then again, I've never done very much of my homework at home, preferring to do it during "wasted time": in the car to or from school, after a test in a different subject, after the teacher is done lecturing but the period isn't over, etc.

I know that I have- or at least, I used to have, before my little break- a few readers in their teen years. What do y'all think? Homework? School work over the summer? Down with education?

I See How It Is

I realized something interesting a few moments ago: none of the guys who have asked me out had to deal with my shit when we were growing up (like, in middle school when I was an even bigger bitch/antisocial super-nerd than I am now- I know, it seems impossible, but it's true!). None of them. Here's the laundry list:

1. He's in the grade below me. We met through a friend. He's asked me out twice now.
2. He's in my grade, but he moved here in the middle of my freshman year. Technically, he hasn't asked me out, but according to a few folks, he has a thing for me.
3. Also in my grade, but this one moved here the summer before sophomore year.
4. The grade below me. Friend of a friend. First real relationship. Ended recently. 'Nuff said, I do believe.

Blargh. I see how it is. Bitches.

My "What the Fuck?" Moment

I was informed today that Pre-Calculus is a four-point class for me and a number of other sophomores, whereas it is a six-point (or weighted) class for the juniors and seniors taking it with us. Why? Because they took Algebra w/ Trig last year. Apparently math classes are only ever weighted after you've taken four math classes already during your high school career. Which I have not. Pre-Cal is my third (I took Geometry and Algebra II last year). What the fuck?

Honestly, I think that's the most fucktarded rule I've ever heard of. I really think all the math classes you take beyond those required of you (you have to have completed Algebra II in order to graduate) should be weighted. I'm going the extra mile; stop rewarding those who don't want to work for being such shitheads (some people deserve to be left behind) and start fucking rewarding me! I deserve a weighted grade! If McMullin gets a C in that class, he gets four points averaged in with his GPA, whereas if I get a freakin' C, I get two points! My GPA is gonna go to shit all because of that fucking class.

Top 10 Lies Teachers Have Told Me

We've all been lied to at some point or other: "Coffee will stunt your growth." "Santa won't bring you anything if you keep acting like that, you little shit." "I love you." Being lied to is a part of life, something you just have to get used to unless you're a character in a Ricky Gervais movie. As it turns out, our beloved teachers and educators (not always the same people, y'know) are no different than the rest of us when it comes to twisting the truth.

10. "No, Harry Potter does not relate to the standard curriculum in any way, shape, or form."
9. "Not to worry! Our cafeteria has many vegetarian options!"
8. "Of course immortals aren't real. Nothing lives forever."
7. "Our nation's founders were all good, Christian men."
6. "High school is difficult to adjust to."
5. "Former President Bush is an intelligent man."
4. "This won't be on the exam, so don't worry."
3. "Why, yes, this theorem has many real-life applications!"
2. "Sarcastic people never get far in life, Artemis."
1. "Of course I didn't vote for President Obama!"

7 People Who Have Changed My Life

There are a lot of people who change your life every day. That obnoxious guy in third period made you roll your eyes, the stranger who almost ran over you made you give him the bird, and the cashier/bagger duo at Publix made you laugh at their antics.

However, these aren't the people I'm talking about. Although they influence you in some minuscule way or other, they don't have a lasting impression on you (or at least, they usually don't). No, in this post, I'm going to focus on the people who have changed the way I see myself and the world.

1. Katie Collins has made me closer to God. Whatever feelings of irritation I originally felt that she was so religious are now gone, permanently replaces with a deep feeling of gratitude. Without her, I would never have felt as close to God as I do now. We may have a few fuzzy differences in opinion when it comes to worship, prayer, and the like, but that doesn't matter in the long run: without her, I would never have even believed in God, and would have committed suicide last November when I was convinced there was nobody in the who gave a flying fuck about me. I thank Katie for assuring me that there's much more than a crowd of people who care about me: I've got the big guy in the sky on my side.

2. Ryan Philipp has made me love history. History's one of my passions now, but I would probably still think of it as boring if it weren't for Coach Phil. The first day of class, I thought, "Now this guy really loves history." Well, yeah, you say. He's a history teacher, for Christ's sake. Still, though, I was surprised by the way Phil (as we students affectionately call him) managed to be so enthusiastic about what I had, until that point, thought of as the one subject where even the teachers seem to have a bit of distaste for it. I became determined to figure out why this man was so interested in history, and I'm glad to say that I found some amazing things in my textbook. (Well, okay, in the lecture notes, seeing as we never used our textbook, but whatever.)

3. Gregory Onision has made me vegetarian. He was the first one to convince me that eating animals isn't only immoral, it's also not healthy. Through his videos on YouTube, I discovered things- over the course of a few days- it would have taken me months to find out any other way. His videos encompass a wide range of other things, too, so even when I'm not in the mood to be re-lectured on how meat isn't just murder, it's suicide, I can still have a challenging three and a half minutes, thinking logically about what he's said. Onision isn't preaching, he's informing. (Thank Merlin for that.)

4. Amy Gleaves, whether or not she meant to, made my life a living hell for a few months. I burned myself with matches and lighters (no scars are left from that, thank God), I couldn't concentrate on anything, and I had to call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline four times over the course of three weeks. I finally found a way to literally move away from the situation, but being around her still hurts. I don't think this woman will ever fully understand the extent of the damage and havoc her presence wreaked on my body. I don't blame her 100%, but I know I will never- no matter what anyone says- be able to see her as an innocent bystander when it comes to my mental health.

5. Regina Spektor- yes, the singer- has inspired me to write music. I am teaching myself to play piano, and it's going pretty well, if I do say so myself. I'm in the process of adding music to my previously vocals-only songs. The amazing ReSpekt is not the only person responsible for my not-incredibly-sudden foray into the world of music, but she's definitely played a major role. Her music is very unique, and since I first heard a song by her, I've wanted to sound as great as she does (with my own style, of course).

6. Steve Reed gave me discipline. He is, quite possibly, the best damn English teacher the world has ever seen. I mean, this guy means business! Mr. Reed (no nicknames from students for this guy!) is a hardcore disciplinarian, and definitely one to correct your word usage. He's well-known for saying things like, "No, you did not accidentally leave your homework in your locker. You did not trip, fall, and leave it in your locker, did you? No, you mistakenly left it. Now go get it. Do it again and you'll have lunch detention." Everyone in my class had a love-hate relationship with the old man. We loved him and his life lessons (and he could ramble on about some life lessons, let me tell ya), but hated him once we got in trouble. Typical eighth graders. Anyways, the guy made me understand that putting in effort is, you know, a good thing.

7. Mary Frances Rudy has provided me with more cultural experiences than I ever thought possible. With my Mimi, I've been swimming with dolphins and stingrays, met some extremely interesting people (not nearly as interesting as the stingrays, though!), and wandered aimlessly through art galleries on cruise ships. This woman is a piece of work, for sure, but she's also an incredible person. Thanks to her, I've done things many people may never have the chance to do- and I've also learned not to take such things for granted. I squeeze the most I can out of every trip I go on with her, every play I see.

There you have it. Those people have had profound effects on my life in general; I didn't bother listing the obvious (my mum and dad for making it all possible, hehe... oh God, the mental images... ew). I certainly hope you've enjoyed this weird little insight into my world. I've said some things that I haven't really ever told anyone- how odd that the first entity I share them with should be the internet.

This post required quite a bit of soul-searching, let me tell you. I mean, there are tons of people I know have changed me- that wasn't the hard bit. The difficult part was figuring out how they'd changed me. I mean, seriously! You ever tried to think about it?

Prom Day

Today is prom day. No, I'm not going (I'm apparently one of the few freshmen who aren't?). There are a few benefits to prom day, even if you're not going:

1. You get to choose your lunch period if enough people are absent :D There are only two lunch periods today, and since the teacher gets to choose which one you go to (meh), there's at least a 50/50 chance you'll get to sit with people you normally wouldn't be able to.

2. Most people are absent. Including the ones you don't like. Heh.

3. You get to hang out in the A+ lab when your second period teacher, the one in charge of prom, leaves early. Woo! And then you can blog!

4. You get to take balloons out to aforementioned second period teacher's car rather than do your freaking Algebra II homework. The only downfall is that there's always a chance you'll practically fall on a curb and end up pulling a muscle in your hip, of all places.

And those are four benefits to prom day I can really appreciate, even though I'm not going.

This Atrocity I Call a Love Life?

Well, here are all the males that have- throughout freshman year- affected this thing you could almost call a love life.

With boy one, things have changed- I'm completely over him. Boy two: how the hell could I have ever liked that thing? Boy three- well, he's kind of faded out. Boy four is avoiding me, and that pisses me off. Boy five, I think I'm in love with. Boy six won't bloody well leave me alone, and that really pisses me off. Boy seven likes me (I'm pretty sure), and he's just adorable.

There you go. If you know me, you're probably going, "Seven?! YOU?!" And my reply will be, "Yeah."

By the way, I just have to say this and hope that the right person sees it: "Thanks for the Gatorade, man." 'Cause I can't say it to your face. Maybe someone will pass it along?

Tune-a-Licious Tuesdays

In an effort to force myself to listen to popular music (and remember to post), I'm starting a little thing I'll call Tune-a-Licious Tuesdays. Musical Mondays are over-used, so there.

I'm great.

No, this isn't just, "Hey, I like this song." It's also, "I think that this is a good website to find new music, and this one sucks, and check this out- you probably haven't heard any of their other music, have you?" I think I'm really going to get into this.

Feel free to tell me about songs and albums you love/hate/both, and how much of a... you know, I was going to make a Miley Cyrus joke, but I can't even bring myself to go there.

Hanging out in the A+ Lab at school; the juniors are taking the ACT and we're going to be stuck in first period for the next, oh, three and a half to five hours. At least Wilson (he teaches Biology, my first period) isn't with us- we're in the lab because he's one of the proctors. The library and the entire math/science wing are closed to anyone but proctors and people taking the test.

Since we're in the A+ Lab and bored to death, Wilson gave us the opportunity to do extra credit: concept maps (in Inspiration® 8.0, if you want to know) on a) Cell Theory and Cell Parts, b) Monomers, Polymers, and the 4 Essential Organic Compounds, and/or c) Scientific Method.

I did the Scientific Method because it's the easiest. Pretty straight-forward, with a small loop at the end (where you re-test the hypothesis). Meh. I figure I'll get a decent amound of points... here's a screenshot [edit: and... apparently not]. I would totally have done it a bit prettier, but I'm not on my Mac, and I can't be bothered to put in that much effort when on my computer- as opposed to this thing from the early 2000s- it would just take pressing three buttons. But I digress.

At least I can still save in png format. :P

Edit: GOD FREAKING... *urgh* I can't give you a screenshot because the school is retarded and has blocked all image hosting sites, even ones where it's impossible to see everyone else's pictures. You know, made for people like me. Fucking hell...

On My Mind:

Rachel and I are planning a huge end-of-school party to take place in late May or early June. And by huge, I mean huge. Costs are going to be through the roof, unfortunately. Total cost will be approximately $750. Yeah, expensive party- we're planning for about 110 people showing up.

I'm cramping. All you women, I know you feel my pain. All you guys, ignore this.

I hate doing laundry.

Valentine's Day

Yep, the big V. The one all the singles hate, all the females with dates cherish, and all the males with dates... well, they aren't always exactly all about it.

My school does a few things to celebrate Valentine's Day. We can fill out matchmaker sheets for free, then pay a dollar to get our results (which only contain the names of people of the opposite gender who match you- and of course, who filled out their sheets).

We can also send and receive Candygrams. What are Candygrams? Candygrams, my dear, unenlightened friend, are small bags of candy with valentine cards attached. I got a Batman one with a nice bunch of candy. I also got a truffle, a Twix, a Snickers, and a bag of Valentine's Day M&Ms from Julianna. She's so sweet...

I sent a bunch of Candygrams: Jenny, John, Jonathon, Katie, Tyler, and Kristen. Well, I mean, I didn't really send them. It was more like Jenny decided she wanted to spend over a fifth of her allowance (around fifteen out of fifty dollars) on being a good person for V-day, so she dragged me over to the table in the caf to get some with her so she wouldn't look stupid (as if having another person there with you when you buy an ass-load of Valentine's makes you look less retarded).

She sent me one, so of course I sent her one. I haven't eaten my candy yet, since I'm in the school library and all, and I'm focused on not breaking any more rules than absolutely necessary.

She sent one to some guy in theatre that one of my friends likes, and signed that friend's name (kinda a bitch thing to do). She also sent one to a teacher everyone is pretty much convinced is lesbian (coughcoughMsO'Nealcoughcough), and signed it from the goofiest male teacher we could think of (that would be Nauert, for any Harpeth-ers reading... yes, she thought it would be funny... yeah, it kinda was).

Strip Poohsticks, Strip Chess by Mail

Yes, this is intentionally taking advantage of the fact that tons of people will be Googling those search phrases, thanks to XKCD's latest comic (as of this writing). 

So... not much to say. I'm at my dad's right now, watching the children (no school and both he and the evil stepmother have to work, and Taylor is hanging out at my aunt Kim's place with her kids).

Blecghk.

Bird or Rat?

Okay, so technically his name is Byrd, not Bird. But still. They're pronounced the same, aren't they? Yes. Moving on.

My Career Management teacher is Mr. Byrd. We all call him Byrd behind his back, but if you address him as such (with no 'Mr.' in front), he gets severely pissed. I don't know why, so don't ask me. None of the other teachers have a problem with it: Mr. Phillip is Phil (or Philly, depending on your level of daring). Mr. Nauert is Nauert. Coach Wilson is Wilson.

Whenever he says something about his day (at the beginning of class, and he goes on for about fifteen minutes), he finishes with, "And that's my story, and I'm sticking to it." He always screws up the directions grammatically.

Segment: ... ,(IN ALL CAPITAL LETTERS), ...

What, are we creating abstract art with our instructions now, Byrd? Blegh.

He thinks he's hilarious, and I guess he assumes we think so, too. He always laughs at his own jokes (yeah, not cool), and when he laughs, his eyes (covered by glasses that already make them look small and beady) scrunch up and become even smaller, and his mouth distorts into some odd shape that makes his teeth look narrower and pointier.

When he laughs, he looks like a rat.

Byrd is a rat. That is the point of this post.

Updated Firefox

I updated Mozilla Firefox on my school's computer to... I think it's 3.6, but I may be wrong. Anyways, it's the latest version for Windows (the version listed on the front page when you're on a Windows computer).

And they can't even get mad at me, can they? It's not like I went off and downloaded TOR (Google it). Which I totally would... if I wanted to get suspended. Moving on...

They have this new thing for Firefox called "personas," and I set the one on this computer to be red, white, and blue stars (our colors are blue and white, and I think we have red, too).