Is it just me, or is "Clifford the Big Red Dog" a metaphor of Communism?
So, I've had a lot of homework lately. Three AP classes and two shows and an orchestra competition coming up... lots of practising, reciting, reading, and studying. AP exams are next month, and I'm feelin' the mental burn. I really need to study my French verb forms one more time between now and then (preferably now), because on my essay today I freaked. I forgot the conditional of a couple verbs, and messed up the subjunctive of "faire". And I want to hurt myself, now. All of the work I did over Spring Break was less-than-French geared, and I certainly didn't reread Wuthering Heights (though I love it with all my heart and soul [oatmeal!]!)... so now I'm in a hurt-locker come May.
My AP English teacher might not come back at all this year, certainly not before the AP test (unless I pray really, really hard!). Her tumour must have been cancerous after all, and we weren't told so we wouldn't cry (some big help that was), but she's beginning chemo-therapy. I want her to come back, because she's the best English teacher ever! Now our "long-term" substitute is leaving, too, and we're getting a sub for our sub. I heard they're bringing back a retired teacher. I don't want a retired teacher! I want my teacher!
Alright, now, I know I'm pale. When people come up to me to inform me of such, is it supposed to surprise me? Now, if that's the case, why do I let it bother me when people make fun of me for it? A bunch of underclassmen today went out of their ways to laugh out loud at my skintone, "Dude! Look at that chick! She's hideous! S***, dude!" Firstly, I should have been laughing at their choice of vocabulary (I doubt any member of the group, or even the collaborative group, could have even spelled hideous). Secondly, I'm about to graduate. I'm a legal adult. And I let whiney, pimply, smelly, pubescent teen boys get to me? Thirdly, since I am pale due to the fact that I'm Irish (and go with me on this), couldn't ridicule based on my skin mean racism? Couldn't I technically go to the school's office and file a complaint that I'm being descriminated against? I mean, they wouldn't make fun of an African American because she's black, why should I be made fun of because I'm very, very, very white? I mean, I'm not complaining about Affirmative Action or anything (as far as I could see, the group was comprised wholly of white boys), I just think it's unfair to pick on me over something that can't be helped.
And, plus, I can't go out in the sun for too long because I have over 70 moles on my body as a whole, and could very easily get cancer. And I really don't feel like dying from cancer because some kids made fun of me. Thank you, and goodnight.
Uhh... other than that inappropriately emotional outburst, my day has been okay. Rehearsal went well (got a lot of finer details smoothed over), I was scoffed in French (or, maybe this was yesterday) for scoffing at teen "love" (it was a mutual scoffing, scoffing all around), found out that I'm the "cream of the crop" in AP English, and enjoyed a pretty much free bell in Orchestra.
Well, time to pay a visit to Sparknotes. I know how I preach against that place, but I'm only using it to review a book I've already read before tomorrow. If you ever get the chance, read Wuthering Heights. It's dahlische.
**Title is from Seinfeld, the Time Magazine/perfect pickup episode... and likewise, an allusion to John Donne's "Meditations".