10-6-01

i hate september. it makes the change to october miserable. there's a few good days, but overall they don't cancel out the bad ones.

you've heard about school already. but not much.

i can deal with A days. A days are fun and spiffy.

B days suck. they really do.

so now for the first bit of this typed up whining, you get a boring ass list of stuff i do at school, and why i hate it. hopefully it won't be too long. .....though it probably will. i don't give a damn.

A days i have Gym, Pre calculus, Debate, and Chemistry.

B days i have Spanish, History, Band, and English.

and now for the bitching.

Gym, i don't hate it, but i could do without. i only like playing tennis, and no one else CAN, so yeah im bored in gym. and we run all the time and i think im going to barf one of these days. the sun is never up during gym, and we freeze our asses off trying to run a mile on a wet track.

pre calculus...you've heard of my chipmunky/squirrel teacher already i believe. but that's about it. you can get a whole assignment wrong and still get an A.

in Debate, .....well besides the constant torture of the other Kevin and the fact that mackenzie's ass is everywhere i look, i like debate. it's hard as hell and i really suck at public speaking, but i like debate.

and Chemistry is probably the best damn class of the day. my teacher is a nutcase. he's obsessed with chevrolet trucks and any substance that contains titanium. he was floating for a week after he got his brand new titanium glasses. geezus. and we get to do labs and all kinds of shit even though they're so boring, but it's spiffy. my biology teacher last year didn't let us do squat except for pot plants in paper cups and attempt to keep fruit flies alive.

[we're halfway through to boring school bitching, folks. take a breather.]

B days. i dispise B days.

my spanish class is probably why i hate B days so much. im stuck in a class with a bunch of stupids. crapulent fools who have an attention span of a dead beetle. i mean, FUCK, these people never shut up. i don't really blame them that much though. i still blame them, but not as much as you'd expect. i was thinking one day.... [notice i said 'ONE' day. i know, still above average.] ...that if i had a brain the size of half a peanut, and my spanish teacher was a former mechanic and isn't qualified to even speak the <b>english</b> language, yeah....i'd probably talk my ass off too. but you see, these numbnuts in my class talk off their ass and <i>then</i> some. i have the honor of having makenzie .....mackenzie....i don't have any clue how the fuck you spell her name.....in my class. she greets any and every B day with a "<b><i>WHHHAAA???</i></b>" whenever the class begins. "<b></i>whaaattt are we doooing?? im LOOOSSSTT!! WHAT??</i></b>." and then she laughs like mad thinking it's funny that her stupidity is making people roll their eyes. or maybe i'm the only one rolling my eyes. everyone else is giggling i guess. out of my anger i mumble to nicole "god i just want to shoot her head off."

when i mumble, i'm a fairly quiet person. but for some odd ass reason, everyone around me shuts up and listens intently to things that i <i>don't want them to hear.</i> why? i dunno. but it pisses me off because they say "wow, you're MEAN, sarah! you should never think things like that! [giggle giggle] i thought you were a NICE person, sarah!!" every god damn time and then they ask me if i'm GOTH and i'm all "NO YOU FREAK" and they get that hurt look.

....i'm NOT goth. i just have an over abundance of black shirts and i really don't like the atmosphere of my spanish class giving the effect that i don't like society.

thank you makenzie-something-or-other taylor, for making my entire spanish class think that i'm goth.

history is fine. i don't mind history. my teacher coughs up hairballs and has bandaids sticking to the bottom of his shoes, but i don't mind history.

i like band. it's a freak show during the football games, but i like band.

i hate english with a passion. i speciffically signed up to NOT HAVE HONORS, mainly because of the trauma i had last year in honors, and the school shoves me in there.

it's the exact opposite of spanish, and you'd think i'd like that, and normally i WOULD, but i don't. it's worse.

firstly, my teacher is an older and crabbier version of the principal in Ferris Bueller's Day Off. he looks, acts, and talks like him. yeah that's my teacher. Mr. Godfrey.

he assigns at LEAST three different stories and a novel at the same time. the fifty billion two-inch packets screw with my brain, and a vocab assignment due every day stabs you in the side. we have to write paragraphs about characterization and setting and why there IS characterization and setting in a story, and that really bugs me. writing about why it's there. DUH IT WOULDN'T BE A STORY WITHOUT IT, THE END. no it has to be two pages long. a paragraph two pages long.

just call it a damn essay with no indentations, mr godfrey. sheesh.

i have an 'F' in that class. i bombed a 220 point test, because i was absent the day he said when we were going to take it, thus i didn't finish the two-inch packet, thus failing the test-that-for-some-weird-ass-reason-you-can't-make-up-because-this-is-highschool-and-you-need-to-learn-responsibility, and i have an 'f.'

and all the SMART people-who-are-also-teenyboppers [the worst breed.] are in there and miraculously PASS.

i'm a bit miffed. i really am. im more stupid than a teenybopper, and it hurts. sigh.

 

 

 

 

and that, was the end of the school bitching. until i remember something.

i recieved news the other day that my grandparents are coming like a week before halloween.

i nearly cried out in anguish. i love my grandparents, really....almost. they're actually my great aunt and uncle, but they adopted my mom so she could come to the U.S. they give me money, and worry about my grades....which most of the time isn't good. even the money, because my mom spends it all before i know i even recieved any.... anyfuck, they came last year and it was HELL. i had to go to my cousins everyfuckingday and little kids trying to be just like me really isn't good for the world thus far. and ME, trying not to swear in front of uncle CrapisabadwordandsoisGod Baird, isn't a pretty sight after a week. you get exausted saying "SHHHHHHHIIII.....muck." every time a kid stomps on your toe. "you little fu.........sweet darling..[sharp in take of breath in attempt to calm down..] please get of my DArnnn toe."

i'm not a healty person. i don't have the endurance to hold myself back from screaming in my grandfather's face "I DON'T GIVE A DAMN WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT MY PANTS!! I'M NOT SORRY I DON'T WEAR THE PENNY LOAFERS YOU LIKE! I'M GOING TO KICK YOUR OLD BALLS IF YOU DON'T STOP GRIPING ABOUT WHAT A HORRIBLE FATHER MY DAD IS!!!"

my grandfather isn't delirious. he's highly intelligent. he's not getting delirious. he's not getting damn old and delirious, and it scares me.

and then he has the balls AND dick to ask me "why do you look so angry?"

JDF[ SAHJF OADS F KJDSLKJjadn;ekl fdJAKJ afdskl. that's why.

last year they asked me if i wanted to be ....well i'll just give you the conversation.

[ any thing in "//...//'s" are my thoughts at that moment.]

"sarah, dear--"

"//dear......deer......you're going to rum me over with Uncle Jeff's truck aren't you.//"

"what do you want to be for halloween?"

"....im not going door to door, grandpa."

"i know, i know but you take the kids around don't you."

"yes, grandpa."

"so don't you dress up?"

"yes, grandpa, only to scare the little kids, grandpa, i just wanted to say that i don't go door to door, grandpa."

"oh i see. so what do you want to be."

"i dunno....er.. i don't know, grandpa."

[i'm trying to be polite, i really am. im not very good.]

"why don't you be...a ....a .....power puff girl."

[c'mon. what would your reaction to that be??

"//what the fuck? are you SMOKING something?//"

[with the straightest face i could muster, i came up with..]

"are you serious?"

[which, in effect wasn't polite enough for the senior citizen.]

"......"

[and as if he were as mormonish as my uncle, he gave me the look which read "are you goth?"]

 

 

okay that pisses me off. it's another one of those two-faced conspiracies. good against the young elementary school teenyboppers, bad when you are accused wrongly by peers and elderly.

excuse me....but if i don't want to be a spice girl or an m&m for halloween, why does it automatically make me goth? im NOT, damnit.

does everyone in utah have a little lightswitch marked 'gothic' in their skull cavity that flicks on whenever there's a person who doesn't agree with something.....a microscoping thing....in the world today? i want to bash their heads in.

"are you serious?"

"....."

luckily my dearest aunt who isn't truly mormon, just is for her family, comes in and serves grandpa some "old-people-soup" as i call it. grandpa phillips shut up.

 

i shudder to think what will occur next week or so.