At least, not quite.

We're finally getting cleaned up from that MOFO HURRICANE. Gggrrr. But I guess it's okay, "Cats" with pacify me for this week. I can't wait to see it.

I'm going to the Haunted House with Jessica and her boyfriend, Kevin, this Saturday. I heard it's really good this year, because a bunch of my friends are in it. Last year when I was in it (as Raegen from "The Exorcist," of course), it was awesome. But that's another story. I can't wait to go back, plus...we're going BOWLING afterwards! Yaaaay, bowling!

Woo.

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I almost blew a gasket today in Geometry. Mr. Harsch teaches me that....what a name. It fits him well.

He's only about, what, 18? It looks like he just stepped off the bus and decided to steal a teacher's ID. He has this really floppy hair like Shaggy from Scooby-Doo and it looks like he would be really cool.

Nay! Because that would make everything happier for everyone.

He's not exactly mean, but, hmm...do the words "chauvenist pig" come to mind? Nah, maybe that's a little harsh. "Filthy, lying, manipulative, bastard" is more like it.

Like yesterday, one of our assistant principals came into class to observe.

He actually sat down, wrote notes on the overhead projector, explained the concepts, took our questions, and reviewed yesterday's homework.

And the minute she walked out, he rubbed his hands together with glee and refused to let anyone go use the bathroom. Not that we needed to or anything, but it's the principles of it, dude. It ought to be common sense to never deny a girl her Bathroom Rights. It's like, written in the constitution or something.

A girl tried to turn in some work that he said he would accept late because he needed to know how she arrived at her answer on some quiz we took last week. She said she had it writen in pen, though. Pen is not allowed in math class. But Mr. Harsch said, "That's fine, I just need to see how you did it." And today, when she brought it up for him to check, he said he never said that, and that the ink smelled fresh so she probably did it last night anyway. And then he gave us all ten pages of nothing but proofs. Proofs are the spawn of satan. They take forever and prove absolutely nothing except for the fact that human beings think too much and overanalyze everything.

Perhaps his only redeeming characteristic is that he never checks homework. He gives us pages and pages of homewrk every night, and I never do it. I understand it, so why should I? He never checks.

When we studied "If-Then" statements earlier this year, he used this emample: "If a person is a girl, she is evil. If a person worships money, then he is evil. Therefore, girls are the root of all evil."

Is rape the next level of this abuse? Come on.

My friend Amy said she had him last year but switched classes a week later because she knew she would do him serious bodily harm if she had to endure his class any longer.

I'm not going to say anything. It would just be some giant scam, knowing my school. I'll just sit quietly like a good little conformist and wait for somebody else to cry foul.

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I speak French pretty fluently. Did you know that? I bet you didn't.

Anyway, yeah. At school some traveling theatre company is coming on Halloween to present "Les Trois Mousequetaires" (The Three Musketeers) for the French Department and most of the elementary schools in the parish. Only three advaned French students were allowed to participate.

Now, I do okay in French. I'm not extraordinary, I just do my homework and pass tests. And now they've got me speaking French to actually communicate with other humans? I don't think so.

Well, I don't know exactly what my job is. The first part of it involves speaking French to the elementary students to impress them, giving them a short backgrouns of the play, and leading them to their seats. (Which is kindof cool, because the first time I ever set foot on my campus it was in fifth grade when I went to see Romeo and Juliet, which the same company put on for us.)

Then I think us three lucky ones have to get up onstage before curtain and impress everyone some more by conversing in French and doing all sorts of neat stuff.

The job was described as "Extremely difficult! Not recommended for freshmen!"

....Oh, very funny. Because LOOK WHO'S A FRESHIE.

I'll bet you can hear me laughing all the way from school.

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I had another dentist appointment yesterday.

At first, it was all good. They numbed my mouth with Ambesol or something equivalent, and then the shot, which was okay, and then...

Wait. The shot.

The apparently didn't numb my gums very well because it struck a nerve and it felt like baby chipmunks were gnawing through my face.

So I flopped around like a fish out of water while I took YET ANOTHER sedative.

That's right folks, the sedatives. Never underestimate their power. We are helpless in their wake.

But little Susie Q. from the local non-magnet high school who was interning at the dentist's office didn't know how to properly numb someone's mouth dammit, and when I feel pain, people die.

But at least this time I didn't bite my lip until my mouth filled with blood and I spit it out all over random passers-by.

Wooo....that shot, man...it's still sore. That mofo dental hygienist had no clue what she was doing. None whatsoever. I'm going to recommend to the dentist that she be publicly beaten and shot to death.

*coy smile*

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Well, I'm back to doing what I'm actually supposed to be doing.

Homework.

Gaaah.

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