Ergh.
Mood:  d'oh
Oh my God. I actually got a 'B' in English.

Somehow I knew this was coming. Funny thing, how I'm better in English than math, yet I get an 'A' in geometry and a 'B' in English?

Anyway, the epic poetry project turned out horribly. On the 7-page report, I found out two of my partners have been plagiarising.

Being a responsible student, I bring it up with Mr. Litvin. He tells me to "fix it." Fix it as in redoing more than half the report?

Yep.

His excuse? I'm smart, I can do it. I can see where he's coming from, but he's giving me too much credit. I'm not as smart as people think I am. He kept on encouraging me too, every time I brought up the report. He thanked me for doing it after I turned in the finished product.

Don't thank me just yet. Wait until you actually read it.

Personally, I give up in that class. Nothing I do gets me an 'A,' no matter how hard I try, so I just give up.

Anyway, this's been a really stressful time for me. I don't know why, but I've been getting so many tests and whatnot in all my classes worth so much of my grade that it has me completely overwhelmed. I can't keep up. I've chewed half my fingers to a bloody pulp and I keep scratching at myself. I'm not even itchy, but I just use allergies as an excuse to do it every time someone asks.


ERGH. I just want to sleep in late and not worry about anything.

But I could never, could I? There's too much pressure on the kids these days that actually want to make something of themselves.

Have you ever realized how bland life is? Now, don't assume I'm going to go off into a depressing rant about how life sucks...no, I'll save the monologue for another time. Rather, I'll tell you directly, here and now: life sucks.

Here I am, sitting at home and thinking...

What is the point of our society? Get years of education so we can work like slaves for the government and they can get our money and use it to give themselves a comfortable life? Well that's something I don't have to worry about, actually. I like receiving an education, and I get paid under the table--thank you very much.

Whatever.

I'm almost sixteen. I feel a lot older. I don't feel like making a lot of sense.

Elipses aren't supposed to be used as I use them, apparently. I learned that from Ms. Behonek.

I like her. I learned a lot. My new English teacher, Mr. Litvin...kind of reminds me of a manly, scarier version of Ms. Behonek.

It's probably because of all the vocab we do. Almost two years straight of flipping painstakingly through dictionaries the night before vocab is turned in, maybe on the internet frantically typing in words and copying it down.

Funny thing: I used to think my best subject was English. For as long as I can remember, I was (not to brag, honestly) one of the best in my elementary classes in spelling, grammar, etc...Well, until I came across identifying adverbs and all that. We were supposed to use all kinds of colored pens to identify everything. Got kind of confusing, I guess.

Anyways, I don't really "get" anything else. My grades and parents may deny it, but I really just don't get all these concepts thrown at me. Chemistry, when it's not mathematical, is really interesting though, but that's probably just because I've always loved science. And history is really just "remembering shit," but I guess I forgot to mention I have the memory of a peanut.

So English is the only thing I can really understand in school and actually enjoy doing the work. As a matter of fact, I'd secretly pride myself in it.

Pride really is a sin then, because ever since I came into Mr. Litvin's I've felt like a complete idiot. Not in the "oh, woe is me," self-pitying way. It's just...I always figured I'm not the smartest cookie like the insanely intelligent, goddess Willa who has the IQ of a mastermind-genius (a mild guess on my part), but I was comforted by the idea that "there's dumber than me in this very class."

Well, I had to do some serious back-tracking on that idea when I'm graded practically a "D" on every major paper I've written for that class.
By kids, no less!

When a child rates your logic/ideas as a "D," you know something's wrong.

Gods forbid if Mr. Litvin were to read my papers himself!

So with a severely damaged pride, I ask dear old Mr. Litvin if I can switch into regular class. He denies me, so I'm stuck in a rather humiliating position for myself.

We're doing a very important project on epic poems right now (worth two essays and some--I can't believe this...) and I picked the Iliad. It's driving me insane knowing I'm not going to get a good grade on this. I never thought that I would dread writing a paper on an epic like the Iliad (I confess, I'm completely smitten by it).

I grudgingly admit English is no longer my forte and I'm going to have to find a new one soon.

Isn't it frustrating when you want to do well in something and no matter how hard you try, you can't? Perhaps my humor is a little dark, because I'm laughing about it.

Is this whining? I'm not sure anymore. Sometimes my friends get angry with me because I complain too much. I never figured I did it a lot, and it would be ignorant of me to deny it completely, but at this point I always thought I was in control of when I whined about something. But I apparently do it even when I don't know I'm doing it, so I just don't know if what I say is considered "bitching and moaning."

It's actually very confusing. I know that it isn't a very appealig quality, so I wish I could identify what "whining" is so I could stop myself from doing it.

I'm going to be getting a new kitten soon. My parents forbade me from taking her in, but I'm setting up a special place just for her where she can stay for a month or two and adapt to her surroundings. I hope nothing bad happens to her while she's here.

Some guy called me a bitch today when I was feeding the stray kitties outside the 300's hall. It pisses me off to think people can get away with saying such degrading terms, and to me! I wanted to slap him right across the face then and there, but to put it plainly, there's a lot of things I'd like to do.

Whatever.

Life goes on.