Math Sub

We all love a substitute in school-especially in math. They're clueless, they let you do whatever you want, whenever you want. They always give you worksheets that have nothing to do with what your learning, and they're never checked by the teacher the next day. After you write your name on the paper, you've pretty much fulfilled your work for the day.

Today, we were all "working" on our worksheet when someone raised their hand and said, "Our teacher never taught us this." Our substitute peered at the paper, then turned to the white board. "I don't know if I can help you, I've never had to use this before."

Bam.

Worst thing to say in a high school. Ever.

"I'm definitely not doing this, then," Molly, the girl sitting next to me whispered. That's what everyone was thinking. Our teacher doesn't remember it? She's never had to use it? Fine then, we won't ever have to find the degree of a tangent line on a circle passing it's secant.

***

Picture of the Day:

I Really Don't Have Anything to Say

I really don't have anything to say. Haha, nothing happens in my life. I think I just made this post so I could have a picture of the day.

Picture of the Day:

Now

I think I've figured out that whole, "don't wish your life away" thing. Everyone wants to grow up. Everyone wants to turn 13 so they can say, "Only three years 'till I can drive!" When they're 16, all they think about is turning 18, then 21 so they can get all boozed up (well, legally). Sure, growing up is cool sometimes and more responsibility is nice. But I sort of wish I be in elementary school again. You know, when your hardest decisions were deciding which crayon to use while coloring? Then I wanted to be back in middle school (7th grade, to be exact). So I figure the pattern will continue and some day I'll want to be back in high school. I'll want to be sitting here right now, not having to worry about paying taxes or finding gas money or living by myself. I won't be able to ask mom to "pretty please make some homemade popcorn?" Someday I'll have to get off my lazy butt and make my own popcorn. Sometimes that sounds like fun, but other times it makes me want to freeze time and enjoy Now forever.

Picture of the Day:

that moment when you forgot you had homework on a sunday night...

Helloo

I'm back. I'm not sure if I'll be back again tomorrow, but for today, I'm blogging here again. I've given up on that whole "each blog post is a spectacular piece of writing" (sorry dad). Truth is, I don't know what this blog will be about yet. I've got...22 blogs, but I only update about 3 of them frequently. What can I say? It's so easy to make blogs, but commitment is never the easiest thing. 

I don't know if you'll find what I post here even remotely interesting. But someone once told me you blog for yourself, so that's what I'm going to start doing. I think I'm also going to start doing a picture/graphic of the day after each of my posts. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.

Picture of the day:

Memories

Perhaps the best way to forget about something is to obsess over it. Think about nothing else for a week. It sort of makes sense, in a twisted, counterproductive way. Sure, during the time you're thinking about it your life may suck. Drowning in thoughts and memories you so badly want to forget so they don't come back to you, at least for awhile, with no way to get out. Because once you start, there is no turning back. They keep pouring out of your head, extra-vivid, as if they've been waiting for the moment to be released to the front of your brain. After you obsess over it, you get tired, and the thoughts blur around the edges until they finally fade to the back of your brain again, dulled from over-use. Only then do you realize you could see them one more time, crystal clear, even if it kills you.

My Theory

Everyone in high school is always tired during the day. We have to wake up at 6, or earlier, every morning for school, and in the winter, its completely dark out. We home, and go to bed around 9, usually later, not super early, but not late.We're always tired though. Why? We can't fall asleep easily at night and then we're more tired during the day. Since we wake up in the dark, it's hard for our bodies to shut down at night, when there's the same amount of light as when we wake up. Congratulations, schools districts. You have trained us, but screwed everything up in the process.

My School

I hear stories of a couple people cursing on the bus and in the halls. People doing graffiti the bathrooms and purposely overflowing the sinks. The story teller always has a horrified expression as if this never happens in their school. I act sympathetic. The first time I saw all of that I was pretty surprised myself. People on my bus cuss more than a sailor, shooting words out of their mouths like their lives depended on it. All kinds of crap is scribbled on bathroom stalls in pencil and Sharpie. Apparently we have a hardcore rebel school, because I hear at least three of those stories every day in Penn High School, and someone saying, “Jon and Bill were in another fight again, Jon had to get stitches, and both of them have after-school suspension.” Is the equivalent to “I ate chicken for lunch.” There are occasionally rumors, but most of the stories are true. I’ve seen kids walking around with stitches or bruises from fights, girls and boys alike. You’re probably horrified. Maybe I’m making it sound pretty bad. Penn High isn’t a boxing ring or anything, we have our share of good deeds, and there are worse stories from other school districts.

“You wanna go?” Some big guy leaps up from his seat a few tables from me. “Bring it!” Another guy jumps off, both of them red-faced. “Bring it!” The second guy taunts again. It might happen often, but there’s nothing like a good face-off as lunch entertainment. Relax, it’s nothing serious. These two guys aren’t going to fight, apparently they’re going to have a rap battle. “I can’t believe Nick’s gonna go up against him,” Lily hisses in my ear. “He’s just gonna embarrass himself.” I nod, watching them silently. We actually have our own security team on school property. They’re actually supposed to be in the cafeteria right now. “Dude, give me a beat!” The first guy shouts, and half of the cafeteria starts banging on their tables in unison. Two security guards rush in, and leap in front of the two boys, pushing them into their seats. “Shoot.” I say. “That would’ve been awesome to see.”