A Week Later

And I still have not given you all an extensive review of Les Mis.

I'm a little disappointed in myself.

I'll try and get that up tomorrow. Save myself from my shame.

By the way... it was awesome.

Today, I Had Scheduling Problems

Just like yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that...

I also learned something new about my mom:

Don't mess with her kid's schedule. She will eat you for breakfast.

These problems were really for no good reason. It wasn't an issue of "this won't work," "we don't have a class for you," "the teacher doesn't want you to do this," none of that nonsense.

The reasoning for this one?

"...Cuz."

Like, seriously. I don't think those jackasses have a single reason for turning down my application for an independent study. It was totally worked out, and they didn't have to do anything but sit on their butts and sign a piece of paper. That simple.

Maybe it's because they don't do anything, and secretly they feel a little useless (which they very well should, because, well, they are.) So instead of employing themselves in useful fields, they take things that would be just fine and fuck with 'em.

I was completely prepared to do this independent study. My teacher was totally okay with it. My counselor said it would work.

So why exactly do they come back with a response of "sorry, that won't work. It fits in your schedule, you just need to drop Chambers. That's your only option."

I'm sorry, what?

I think something is being missed here.

Chambers is my schedule.

It's a class. You think it's just choir? Yeah, tell that to my choir teacher. Go tell her that you think it's only practical for me to drop her class, because let's face it, it's "just choir."

Hell, if we're looking at it that way, it's calculus that doesn't fit into my schedule. Because Chambers outweighs math a thousand to one. And if you think that I'm going to be willing to give on something like that because you think that it's a lesser class, then you have another thing coming.

These classes are equal. Choir is equal to English is equal to math is equal to history. They are all the same to me. If I had my English class in the block that I needed to take math, or my French class, or my history class, they would let me independent study. They would have to. Because it wouldn't fit in my schedule.

But somehow, to the administration, the fact that my class is different makes it so that they don't really care about how much I want to take it, the fact of the matter is that it is in the way of something that's "more important."

Well, I have news for you. I have been screwed over on my French class and inconvenienced on  my math class, but there is not one single way that I am giving up this class. Choir is my world.

Just see if you can make me change.

I Can Do This

It has officially been a week since school started.

It feels like a month.

Or a year.

Yet, somehow I feel like this year will actually go faster.

It hasn't really been a slow start. My mind just feels like it never ended. Like this is merely a continuation of last year, with no break in the middle to separate junior from senior.

My classes are fun. My schedule is chill. Some people stress out about only taking hard classes, because unweighted or easy ones will ruin their gpa.

I don't care.

Really, what is a 4.3 going to get you that a 4.2 could not?

I'm not going all Ivy League crazy. And I'm certainly not pushing myself to the max my senior year just for the possibility of an honorable mention at the graduation ceremony.

This year is my year. I've been waiting for the past three to finally be able to say "whatever, I'm a senior, it doesn't matter." I can  do what I want, when I want, and if I want to have two time releases and an easy aiding block, I damn well will.

Because I'm a senior.

And it doesn't matter.

Francais

Le langue de francais est tres magnifique, mais je ne sais pas si quelqu'un qui parle francais tous les jours pouvait me comprendre si je dirai quelque chose, ou si on pensait que je suis bete.

C'est un problem.

Internet, You're Letting Me Down

You know, for all of the hundreds of thousands of useless posts about topics that have about as much credibility as a four year old's opinion on the trends in the stock market, one would think that it would be easier to find at least one page that contains the information that you want.

Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to be the case. It appears that the idiots and miscreants who enjoy spamming the internet with their useless brainwaves don't actually care to take the time to think up a decent page.

I mean, sure, if you're doing research or something scholarly and resourceful, it's plenty easy to find the information that you want. As it's said, the internet is a vast pool of knowledge that you need only to tap into with your fingertips to find anything that you could ever need to know.

But try to find movie quotes, and that's it, game over for you.

All I wanted was to find one good page of all of the funny things that John Krazinski's character says in Something Borrowed, but the only quotes I found were obviously from people whose sense of humor only extends as far as their funny bone, but their capacity for cheesy romanticism is endless.

"Let's get another drink."

"You don't want to."

"I want to."

That qualified for every single page I looked at? That's not even a quote! That's a typical conversation! That's the kind of thing that you say when trying to convince somebody of something, anything, true or not. That, my friends, is lame.

All I'm saying is, Ethan got the shaft on all of these quote pages, as his character is obviously more quotable than Dex, seeing as how Dex is only there for his criminally good looks.

Screw movies reviews. Next time, I'm making my own page of quotes. 

That way I don't have to rely on pages that relay quotes like this one:

"Why didn't you tell me how you felt?"

Homework

Will consume roughly half of my weekend.

Welcome back.

The First of the Last

Of high school. Of reading syllabuses. Of wondering.

It's the first day of the last year of the most awkward four year period of my life.

It's the first day of the last chance that I have to choose where I want to go from here.

It's the first time that for the last time I've stopped caring about whether my friends are in my classes, or what they will be like, or if we will hang out.

It's the beginning of a new year.

And now that I've got the sentimental bit out of the way, may I just say...

High school sucks.

Get me out of it.

Now.

I want to go to college.

NOW.

Oh, and...

Why do I have to wake up so god damned early?

There Are No Words To Describe This Emotion

May I start this off with a word or warning to all you would-be warriors who may or may not have been planning on actually reading this whole post, it is going to be very angry. Please cover the ears of small children and brace yourselves.

So. School's starting on Friday. I'll be a senior. That's cool.

Seniors are supposed to have the easy schedules, yeah?

Yeah...

Didn't work out quite that way for me.

Now, there is a possibility that it may have if my counselor wasn't an idiot, or our administration didn't suck, or the I.B. coordinator wasn't a stuffed shirt.

To ease that blow a little bit, I will say this. I'm sure they're all perfectly nice, friendly people with lots of friends because they're friendly and people like being their friends.

They just suck at their jobs.

Every single year before this one, seniors get their schedules first. Not just a few days anybody else, but weeks. Every year except this one, the only people to get their schedules before summer break are seniors. And every year, the counselors are there and willing to talk with seniors, so they get all of their scheduling issues resolved before summer starts.

Well, fuck that. That sounds like a terrible plan, right?

No. It sounds like a fucking awesome plan! Too bad you didn't do it at all. AHHHHHH.

So I started my summer break with a schedule somewhat like this:

1st block - AP Euro (chosen over AP Psych, which were assigned to the same block by the genius behind the master schedule, so we all had to pick either one or the other. Awesome.)

2nd block - Food science (so I can actually fulfill the practical arts credit that I need to graduate. Congratulations, you guys did something right for a change!)

3rd block - Choir (after much stubborn unwillingness to change, may I add.)

4th block - Empty. (Not a time release, not an aiding block, just empty. Possibility of taking French 4 at Silver Creek, because they will not allow me into the only French 4 class at Niwot, because it's "just for the I.B. kids", and "if I let you in, then it's not fair to the I.B. kids because a student is allowed in one of their classes who doesn't have to follow the same curriculum as the rest of them." Yeah, what the fuck ever. Shut up. You're stupid.)

5th block- Time release. I'm okay with that.

6th block - AP Lit (hey, something else you guys did right! Give yourselves a huge pat on the back. You earned it.)

7th block - Musical theatre (keep in mind that this class is necessary for at least the first two and half months of school in order for me to keep my lead in the show. Remember that. It's important.)

8th block - Another time release. Cool.

Doesn't look too terrible, right? Other than that one small problem of an empty block, I have all of my classes. Except for math. And a real, legitimate French class... Meh.

These seem to be problems that are impossible to solve.

Don't try and tell me that I haven't tried. That I haven't put forth a good effort. That I haven't followed up enough or talked to the right people.

Because I have.

I have emailed my counselor more times than I would like to count about fixing these problems, and every time he manages to take at least three days to respond, and then manage to not answer a single one of my questions.

So, French. At another school. So far, none of the people I've thought were taking it are actually taking it.

They still don't know what block it is.

Meanwhile, I keep hearing of more people being allowed into I.B. French.

So why wasn't I?

I speak more French than a majority of people in the classes at Niwot, of that I can guarantee you. I love the language. I speak it whenever I can, to whoever will listen. I would put myself into that class 110%. So why am I not allowed into it?

Oh, yeah, because if I was allowed in, other people would feel left out.

Wait a second, though. The people who might feel left out? You already let them in the class, apparently. So now who's the one feeling left out?

Me. That's fucking who.

And, I don't have a math class in my schedule.

I'm planning on independent studying calculus. I'm prepared to independent study it. I'm ready to.

Now I just have to wait on them. Are they going to finally decide to meet with me a day before school starts and tell me to find another option because they don't think it's going to work for them? Are they going to expect me to figure something out, or blame me for the problem being worked on so close to the beginning of the year when it's their fault in the first place that it has been put off for this long?

I'm so mad right now, I can barely even start to convey to you the depth of my emotions.

This is just a very on-the-surface briefing of the cataclysm of rage and angry words swirling around in my head right now.

I can't even handle it.

Ahh, Memories

There are some times, some places, some situations that stick with us forever. Whether we realize it or not, some part of our subconscience is always aware of that memory, it just needs a certain trigger to pull it out from the archives in the recesses of our brain and flood our waking thoughts with flashbacks to a different time.

There are certain smells for me that will transport me back to an earlier time. Certain feelings. Certain songs.

Whenever the roof of my mouth feels funny, I think of velvet. It's not really a sensation that could ever logically be described with that word, but one day when I was little, staying at home sick, and sitting on my mom and dad's bed watching Sesame Street on their little television, the roof of my mouth felt funny like that. And if I held really still, it wouldn't go away. And to my child's mind, it would feel like velvet.

Maroon 5 always makes me think of 5th grade.

Water balloons always make me think of third grade, at a certain friend's house who I have never been at since.

Corsets make me think of wolf costumes and hives. Green iPods are walking to elementary school during alternate transportation week when they handed out stickers to people actively trekking along. Sensitive skin is a warm bath when I have a fever.

Then there are the places. Some places that are associated with a particular but imperfect event, where you always think of one specific thing, but not a specific night or specific occurrence.

Some places should be like that, but they aren't.

Tonight, we went to Old Chicago after rehearsal. The only time I ever go there is after theatre. So, natural that I should relate it to theatre.

But out of the several times that I've been there, my mind thought of one night.

Driving home, I expected it to be snowing, and for somebody to be waiting to Skype with me when I got home.

Needless to say, there was no snow, and everybody was asleep.

You crafty memories.

I've Transcended

I got a tumblr.

I just didn't feel right putting these little short posts on a blog. Legitimate posts are for a blog, little ones are for a tumblr.

And now I have one.

Transcendence.

So if you like the little posts, there will be more! Pictures, thoughts, insults, you name it, I'll have it.

If you like the real stuff, stay here.

But hey, you might as well check it out. What do you have to lose? Other than twenty minutes of your life that you will never get back.

But who needs that anyway.