Lauren's neighbor's house is on fire. She's afraid it will affect our day tomorrow, which probably won't happen, she says. She promises me it won't. I hope she's right, because she keeps her promises, unlike a certain bitch who takes such offers for granted and is writing this shit that you are reading right now. She lives next door to this apparently hot seventeen or eighteen year old's house and not surprisingly he does a lot of crazy shit. I wonder what happened.
The mother is getting ready to go to this chinese new year thing at a church with her friend, the perky June Cleaver-like mother from last Saturday. She said she's only going to see how it is and hopefully make some new friends. The rest of us (thankfully) stay home and sleep and shit. She won't be coming back until around one in the morning I think. And I highly doubt that she's cheating on us with a rich white man.
Today was peachy. Failed a chemistry quiz, the teacher kept remind me to do my shit in desktop publishing, and the computer never fucking works for me when I need it in art class.
I'm doing this next thing because I pathetically [and usually] have a shitload of time on my hands.
So "the bucket" is closed off due to construction purposes. Now we have to walk around the entire school to get to a once very close destination. Observe. The picture is very resized because Photoshop wants to divorce me and in Paint, one is not allowed to save as JPEG.
The little red lines at the ends of the backwards G are the pertaining doors. See how it used to be very easy to get around? Now, one is locked up. Complete with caution tape on the inside of the door. Yet, the other one is open for losers who have to take the bus, which comes from the back of the school, so they are able to actually get into the goddamn place. Which no one wants to, but sadly they leave this door in continuation of its use.
"Cum Pot" stands for the academy building. Where all the fancy labs and classrooms where smartie pants fucktards go, separated from us stupid feeble-minded shits. It's located on top of the hill and there are steps in front of it to get there. This is another reason why one door, the aforementioned one, is still in use. I hate each and every student who is of this level and goes to school in this secluded insane asylum. Thing is, the patients choose to go there.
What is the point of all this? I now have to walk a hell of a lot more. Fuck, I do more movement than I do in gym class. Instead of doing exercises and playing stupid games with stupid people, they could just make me walk around the school a few times and I'll get a heart attack. I am extremely out of shape for someone who is as fat as a piece of wire bent to be straight. Oh man, oxymoron right there. Two actually. Double time!
How ironic that I tend to try to not buy books and borrow them from the library instead, being that it's for free. But I end up having overdue fees of up to a record of eight dollars today. Being the bratty skank bitch that I am, the mother paid for my late fee. What else is there better to do besides go back home? I take out another book. This new one is called Villa Incognito. A certain someone recommended the author to me, so I decided to check this author out. I remember him telling me about analogies involving Twinkies or something that the author used in his writing, and that was what sparked me into taking interest. I still feel bad that I didn't hear whatever else he said, because he has a hot voice. No wonder I'm not an academy kid.
The first sentence of the book made me smile already:
It has been reported that Tanuki fell from the sky using his scrotum as a parachute.
Now what kind of a motherfucker wouldn't like that beginning of a book? So I ditched doing homework to read some further pages of this novel.
If you haven't already noticed, I finished The Dirt. Not Slander though. Although it was really captivating and quite very fucking interesting and I learned a hell of a lot of shit from it, it's just one of those things that I can't keep on reading for long periods time, which meant that I couldn't keep on reading it if I only spent about five minutes once a day trying to complete the whole thing. Maybe I should put it on my list of Books to Someday (Not) Finish, along with that Jimi Hendrix biography.
The fact that I don't know shit about politics added to my incompletion of the book. I just can't get into that. How could Christina get into governmental issues? Read that sentence over and think about it.
In geometry I couldn't settle down. I kept getting up for stupid reasons, such as throwing each Starburst wrapper away [separately], resting my legs up on empty chairs and tapping my pen, and holy mother of god, I raised my hand to answer a question. Actually, I did it just so the teacher wouldn't call on me another time to answer a question that I didn't know the answer to. That would cause embarassment, being that I did not know anything except for that one answer, which was to state one side of a proportion by looking at two triangles with only one of their sides measured. To be even more actual, it wouldn't have been much of an embarassment anyway if I'd gotten anything wrong, because I'm used to it. I'm used to being a dumb shit who couldn't give a fuck about math because I've got my good friend The Calculator and The Person Closest to My Pestering Distance for doing that.
Art class was fucking hell. It gets worse and worse every day. Natalia and I tried to come up with errands to do, just to stay out. It worked for only a little while. She's in the ski club, and suggested that I join. But, all of you should know that I can't do shit. So I rejected. All the cool kids, not to mention the most hot asses too, are there. Maybe that should be a reason I should get up off my ass and take a lame attempt at snowboarding. I highly doubt that will happen anyway. I'm only saying it to make myself feel good. Which isn't working.
Eric drove me home along with Amy and Tom. Then my mother yelled at me because she saw that I had ripped the patches that she had sewn over the holes in my jeans. Now she says that she will either sew new ones back on, or that I will never wear those pants again. That broke my heart.
Even if I am extremely fucking tired right now for reasons beyond my knowledge, I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight. The most probable explanation for this lack of being able to snooze and lose is of stress. Not negative stress, but just thinking too much about too much of everything, which is already too much to even begin with.
Christina N. @ 7:46 PM
