Nov 5 (7:33 PM)- It looks like I’m sitting here once again, in essay writing class, without anything to write because the stupid internet can’t seem to register the existence of the file I uploaded this morning. After spending about fifteen minutes trying to salvage the file, I decided that—nah—not worth it. The teacher is standing about twenty feet from me… and I’m wondering how I would get out of the situation I’m in if she should come over here. What situation? It’s just not working, not my fault. But I have the feeling that she’s just too stupid to understand. So contingency plan… oh screw the contingency plan. If I get screwed, then I’ll get screwed. I’ve been surviving on the edge for the past three months, completing final drafts of assignments minutes before they’re due; glaring at her long enough to arouse her suspicion. At first I thought she just disapproved of my projected aloofness, but soon I learned that she was just negative universally. Jason was over here a few minutes ago, talking about our college mess. Then she comes along, with a smug smile… not a smile of “I caught you!” satisfaction, but more like a stupid little smile that’s been ground into her face.

Emily can play her game. I’m watching her right now, smiling a seemingly genuine smile, laughing at MB’s jokes; laughter purely out of courtesy, obviously just to earn MB’s approval. I’d like to congratulate her—she’s doing what I’d never be able to do. I can’t just pretend to smile—when I’m pissed, I’m pissed, and I’d like to show it. Such a phony smile… I’d like to get in a place where my grades aren’t at the mercy of MB. I’ll bet that she’s totally incompetent—she likes to say things like “You’re high school seniors. I don’t even have to tell my freshmen kids what to do. You guys are old enough to know what you’re supposed to be doing. At least I hope you do…” like she did after Jason was pulled over to his side of the bay. Pathetic.

Yet Emily’s smart, and I’m sure she shares this revulsion of MB, and even so, she can play her game. I wish I could do that. My  biggest qualms with my teachers deal with my “attitude.” Well they’re teachers, of course I have to give them respect, but when they don’t deserve it, some of my true thoughts find themselves rising up to the surface. Some teachers have their own attitude problems—like MB—she has very little real respect for her students. Yet she has power that she doesn’t deserve, and that power keeps the dichotomy going.

I’ve changed a lot of perceptions about this class. I thought in the beginning that MB, though sadly slow in her teaching, generally had the right idea. I was since proven wrong. But enough about this class, and MB, I have better things to write about, to talk about, to think about. Moving on now…

First contact

At lunch today, I had the pleasure of meeting Sherry. Haha—I have to laugh. Not at her… well, not really at her. She’s like a lot of the freshmen that come in—and in so many ways, she’s a lot like how I used to be—highly critical, disinclined to swearing. She has a powerful personal voice yet senselessly lost in the high school scene. She thinks she knows what’s “cool” and what’s “weird” (I apparently fell into the latter category), but what she doesn’t yet see is that, it really doesn’t matter. You’re can be perceived as cool, or weird, or whatever– really doesn’t matter—I am what I want to be, and when people feel they need to be critical—I can always smile because I know I’m satisfied with my own personality. (Kathryn has been turning to this lately… but that’s another story) Now, putting that all aside (it’s natural for freshmen to do that), I’ve decided that she’s pretty cool—in my own terms.

It was actually the book she had that caught my attention—Wheel of Time, book five. For those who don’t know, its a fantasy series by Robert Jordan, very intricately written, strong in idea as well as story. I put down Dragonlance, so that I could read the first book, The Eye of the World, and I was pretty impressed… before I had to put that down to read The Order of the Phoenix (which I also failed to finish reading—this time because of The Picture of Dorian Gray).

Anyway, she enjoys reading, and writing as well, which is awesome–difference between me and her (besides the obvious) is that she has a little bit more direction in herself. She may be lost, but she doesn’t let that keep her from plowing along, trying to insult innocent seniors like myself. I wish I had the time to know her–I want to see how she changes as high school wears on. I’m not saying that high school will brainwash her into a collective consciousness; but it will change her, open her up to new ideas.

In that regard, I can see the appeals of being a teacher. You get to watch kids grow as people, not just physically, but the entire maturing of a person from kid to adulthood. It’s quite remarkable to think about, and I can only assume that the joys of being a teacher or a parent are similar.

I have a lot of other things I want to write about, but I don’t have time–right now, more college essays await my burning personality.

Lataz!