HOT LESBIAN ACTION!!!

Hey everyone. What's up, etcetera. I don't have anything that I'm driven to write about, so I'll just write about school or something and hope it turns out good. If it doesn't you'll have wasted a few minutes, and knowing you, you'd rather read bad work from me than... anything... from anybody else. Because you're illiterate, and I probably type at a 5th grade level, like most newspapers. I mean, it's like a 5th grade level, but the 5th grader would have to be reading at a 9th or 10th grade level, which only I could do at that time. That reminds me of something. Hey, Packer kids, remember, Ms. Carpenter? Remember how she used to give us that geometry stuff from the 9th grade textbooks? Well, now I'm IN 9th grade, and we still haven't done any of that stuff. So it should be clear sailing from here. Actually, I have to switch math classes. I'm going to be in geometry, but they put me something called "Elementary Algebra", all though on schedule card, it was written "El Algebra", and for a second I thought I had accidentaly gone to an all-Mexican school. But it was really an abbreviation, which I found out when I asked the security guard, who I took to be one of the impoverished but passionate teachers where "el baño" was. He acted perplexed and asked if I was looking for Spanish 3. I complimented him on his excellent English, and his humorous New Jersey accent. Now I see that he was perfectly justified in knocking me out and leaving me naked in the girl's bathroom. Actually, to tell the truth, most of that story was a total lie. But I suppose the smarter of you were able to deduce that from subtle clues I left around this and other sites. But they did put me in the wrong math class, with another black woman as the teacher. She was like Ms. Carpenter, but without the internal passion and the being pretty nice. Well, it's public school.

At lunch, I went to the cafetaria, because that's where we eat lunch. Actually, it's called a dining room, which is kind of snooty, especially since it looks like a cafetaria, but at least it's not a "dining commons" like Packer has. I started eating my sandwich with whole wheat bread and fake cheese and fake meat ("it's soy-licious!"), and sat down with that girl I mentioned yesterday. Today she had a shirt that said, in a block:

ABC
DEF
UCK

We all had a hearty laugh, especially after agreeing that all the other idiots have to read a shirt out loud to understand it. It's true you know. Actually, she had a hearty laugh, because I was busy trying to read it and hear myself over everyone else. Not really.

Then I remembered I had to talk with the head of the math department about changing my class. So, I got up to leave and walked towards the exit, which was guarded by a disgruntled looking security guard, or custodian or something, I sort of nodded towards the door inquiringly, and he glared at me. So I went to him and tried to explain, and he says, "No! I don't want to hear your story! You have a short day, just go back and sit down!" So I did. That weird Junior who seems to want to be my special friend was back, (actually he just loves Freshies). He tried to help me with his confidence and height, but the guy shot him down. Ah, ha ha ha! Oh, wait... that sucked. I think that security guy hates me now.

I totally love my English room! No, really, it's a total cliché. There are all these plastic or ceramic hearts hanging off the top of the blackboard, and she's got those "Barnes and Nobles" pictures of famous writers hung on this bulletin board, I guess. A little American flag droops languidly at the top of a book shelf in the corner of the room. I begin to speak in present tense, thus denoting poetic writing. Night falls upon the lake like a black, silken shawl, and envelopes the earth in it's darkness.

Our English teacher, Ms. Handwerker– actually give me second... Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha! Her name is funny! Our English teacher, who is very nice and openhearted and very much like an English teacher is expected to be, gave this rather depressing speech about money. It started off as a denouncement on the evils of judging people by their financial status, and that seemed fair enough, then she launched into a long, imploring speech, urging anyone who's to poor to buy stuff to come to her so she can help allocate school budget to helping them. That's a pretty respectable appeal. Makes sense. Some people are poor and they need help paying for stuff. But then she had to give all these examples about poor students she knew, who lived in shelters, or they were being abused by their parents (that doesn't really have to do with money, does it? I guess she had a point), and this kid that lived at a shelter, and he had a performance with the school, and they wouldn't let him back in because it was after 12:00, and stuff. Or kids that couldn't afford looseleaf or pens and stuff. Man, this really preppy-looking girl, who's kind of hot in a hand-painted way looked like she was about to throw herself out of the building. And that would have done some real damage, because we were on the sixth floor at the time. It's like that episode of Seinfeld I saw today, with the pigman, and where that guy throws himself off the roof of the hospital and crushes George's car. It could have been a fiasco like that.

So, at the end of the day, I went to that math head's office and waited in line for a while, and then I talked to her about switching up. Normally you have to pass the math Regents to get into geometry, but my mom talked to her and this woman was comfortable with writing three factoring questions on a note card. I got one wrong, but she was confidant I'd make it. And this message is just for my girl Abby in Westchester, always representing, that I saw an Inuyasha picture that some art student had drawn hanging in the math head's office. It was pretty good, but his hands looked weird. And he seemed to be doing something strange with his sword. Otherwise it was good.

So, as the title would suggest, I'm really bad at guessing how much I'm going to write, but I'll leave it there as a testament to the fact that all humans, even supermen like me make mistakes. My hands are tired and my keyboard is smoking, so I'm gonna say good bye now. Good bye now.

Nicky