The student body booed the orchestra every time they began to play. (You'd think we would be a bit more mature, going to an awesome school and all, but I guess not.) Until the Remedial Drama teacher came out and demanded our silence because She Is A Thespian, By God, And We'd Better Respect Her Authority.

Whatever.

Her drama classes suck so bad, it's actually painful.

I thought it was a bit immature myself, but I didn't feel like exerting the energy to protest.

A bunch of my friends sang this morning; they were great, as always. Mark had to sing the alma mater at the end. Heh. School assemblies aren't that bad, actually. They're pretty fun.

They have the biggest joke. The school owns this giant disco ball, and it's used in every single assembly in some way. Today, it was hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the auditorium, and when the jazz band played "White Christmas" (like we'll ever have that, eh) they turned off the lights and spotted the disco ball to simulate snow.

It was a cheap attempt to generate Holiday Spirit. And god forbid we say the word Christmas or anything. It's okay to say Ramadan, Kwanzaa, or Hannukah, because they are the minorities in the school. But Sweet Jesus, how dare we say Christmas. It would precipitate an chain of awful events.

So! I am all full of "Holiday Cheer" now! Thanks bunches, SGA!!!

Er.

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Mid-terms begin next Monday. I would deeply appreciate your thoughts, prayers, and cheatsheets if available. These exams are brutal. It's been unbelievable how many Mandatory Study Guides I have had to complete. It defeats the purpose, actually, for it to be mandatory. I can sleep and copy from a book at the same time. I'm not learning anything, when will anyone realize this?

All it does is make me feel pathetic, pechulant, and unworthy of Great And Almighty School Of Choice. (Er, Ben Franklin High.) On the other hand, things like the Holiday Assembly just reminds me that I probably have a lot more brain cells than the school administrators, and it renews my sense of superiority. Which I suppose is good.

And I'm sure you figured out that Sarah, the German Jew who runs with scissors, had something to say about this morning's assembly.

"HOW DARE THEY?! HOW DARE THEY DECLARE THEMSELVES POLITICALLY CORRECT AND ACCEPTING OF WORLD RELIGIONS! THOSE BIGOTS! THEY'LL PAY! I MEAN, COME ON, NOT EVEN A LITTLE HANNUKAH SONG?! THIS IS DISCRIMINATION! BLIND DISCRIMINATION! THAT'S IT, I WASN'T GOING TO DO IT, BUT NOW I'M GOING TO STEAL THE CHRISTMAS TREE IN THE FOYER AND PUT OUT MY MENORAH! THEY'LL RESPECT WORLD RELIGIONS IF I HAVE TO SHOVE IT DOWN THEIR PATHEITIC, NARROW-MINDED THROATS!!!"

And that was the end of that.

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It is now two hours later from when I began this entry.

I had quite the lengthy conversation (57 minutes, 46 seconds) with Hannah on my cell phone during which her mother picked up the phone and we had to pretend that I was her boyfriend, Graham, because otherwise her mother would make her get off the phone.

So she told her mom that Graham had laryngitis, causing him to talk and laugh like a girl, and I kept talking in this pechulant deep voice, as a pathetic attempt to disguise the fact that my voice is two octaves higher than the normal freshman boy anyway.

During said conversation, Hannah proclaimed me "weird" and "abnormal" for about the 342983472908342389th time this year. Then I decided that I'd better come out of the closet regarding my nickname for her.

"Well, I'm not a....a...CHEERDROID."

Gasp, said she. "What does that mean?"

SIGH, VERY DEEP SIGH, said I. "A cross between a cheerleader and an android."

"What's an android?" said she.

EXTREMELY DEEP, EXASPERATED, OVERLY DRAMATIC SIGH, said I. "A robot programmed to only think certain ways and do certain things."

Gasp, said she, realizing the full extent of my insult. "Well, you're odd."

"Ooh, such a big vocabulary for a CheerDroid," said I. "I guess I'm not some pathetic sheep following society's horrible, tacky trends. Say it with me: 'Bah. Bah.'"

"I AM NOT A SHEEP."

"BAH."

"I'M NOT!"

"BAH."

"SHUUUUTT UUUUPPP!!!"

"BAH BAH BAH."

Click.

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Picture this: ten pages of Biology, two pages of French, and a project in history.

Also picture me not going home to get my encyclopedia,causing me to fail whatever projects I should be turning in tomorrow. Instead, imagine me sitting in a theater for three hours playing solitaire and reading books on psychoanalysis.

But I'm pretty proud of myself.

I win solitaire almost every single time. That's such an accomplishment; my parents are bursting with pride.

© alexa

The counter keeps breaking and pissing me off, so NO MORE COUNTER! Mwahaha!