Or so he should have said. Honestly. It's the end of the school year and people are acting like they're being freed from Alcatraz. Or from somewhere else equally confining, like a closet perhaps.

Truthfully, I don't see the need for absolute mayhem. You Will Be Back Next Year. We Will Go Through This Again. So Take Your Ritlin And Go Back To Class.

Maybe the reason I'm like that this year is because I will either be in school at Performing Arts School Of Choice or working a show the entire month of July. So I really don't have a vacation, which, in my book, SUCKS.

But then again, pretty much everything sucks this week. Such is the downfall of final exams.

Let me tell you something. At my old school, I never studied. NEVER. I took major tests that I had forgotten about and would ace them. It was insane. And even this year, I never studied and I have all As. (Except in geometry, but we can overlook that since my teacher is criminally insane.) But this week?! I don't know how to handle myself. What is this....studying? In my country we have no such thing!

Even though I was able to memorize 80 digits of pi (for 30 bonus points in geometry, I'm not just a dork), I also know (er..."found out") that I am not capable of retaining a year's worth of information in seven different subjects and have the ability to pull it off the top of my head at any given moment. It's just not going to happen. At least until I get a computer chip implanted in my brain.

So...*gasp*...I've had to study. And I practically had a nervous breakdown because I have no idea how to do it right, and believe me, it's frustrating when you're used to being considered extraordinarily genius. Which I'm not anyway. I just have an excellent photographic short-term memory.

So I went to a tutor. That's right. For the first time. In geometry. And boy, was I embarassed. And I suppose I shouldn't have been, but I was.

And what's worse....my tutor actually told me, "I don't understand how you managed to make such good grades until now because let me tell you, you really really suck at doing anything that requires the tiniest bit of logic." And then I burst into tears and ran far, far away.

Alright. Just kidding. But it felt pretty hopeless.

Long story short: I ended up making a C on my math final. Which is pretty good, I guess. It's better than an F.

And last night, I even broke down and studied for my biology final this morning. It was pretty empowering actually. I felt like Uri What's-His-Name who claimed he could bend spoons with his mind. Yeah, buddy! Harvard, here I come!

And despite all that, I still believe I have the self-discipline of a lab rat looking at a piece of Roquefort cheese on a mousetrap when it comes to school. Now...theatre is a different story. So is mock trial. I've spent many a sleepless night pacing around re-writing a closing or memorizing lines. Or waiting for a phone call from one extremely lazy director.

I Need To Cheer Up! Finals are nearly over and I'll be leaving for Performing Arts School Of Choice in less than three weeks! And then I get to live by myself and three of my friends in a dorm, in a foreign city, for a month doing nothing but going to "school" eveyr day to sing, dance, and do theatre to my heart's content!

That haveing been said, I do have a shitload of packing to do before I leave. They sent out a letter that included a packing list of stuff we need to bring. And that list in itself it long enough, plus all the stuff that I need to bring just because I want to bring it, not because I necessarily have to. I'm the kind of person that would bring paintings to hang up in a hotel room even though I'm staying there for one night. Kind of like that gay couple in the wonderful movie "Waiting For Guffman." Rent it today.

Well. I actually have to go study. Or at least attempt to. Or just look like I'm busy. Yeah.

© alexa

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