Ow
Saturday...I went to visit Grandma in the evening. I'll quote Erin: "Grandma doesn't really need us to visit her anymore. She's got the tv to keep her company. The trip wasn't worth the cost of the parking ticket we got outside the hospital." Conclusion: Grandma fine, though losing her short-term memory. That's alright; it makes visiting that much more interesting. Her new roommate doesn't seem like much of a talker.
Sunday movies, Mikhael. Pursuit of Happyness and Arthur and the Invisibles. Dinner at Mikhael's after, then home.
Today. Um, choir, some woman doing her practicum, looking about six months pregnant. I don't like having a different conductor. At the end of class I introduced myself as the one-who's-always-late-so-don't-mark-me-absent-because-attendance-is-worth-a-good-chunk-of-my-grade.
French block one. I'm not used to having class in block one. Luckily Bellemare spent part of the class trying to get people to leave, then spoke really slowly for the benefit of the former Thompson students. The resolution for our debate is about privatizing healthcare. Beckie and I just know that we'll be stuck with affirmative.
TOK. We didn't do much. Hunnings outlined the course, then we were discussing whether or not Carolee was African-Canadian, and whether or not her ancestors at one point lived in Finland (she just sat there the whole time saying, "Yeah, I was born in South Africa, but I'm Chinese.")
Math. FUCKING MATH. Fuck, I HATE fucking Rahemtulla. Who fucking does math in fucking PEN! And the fucking squiggly line. And FUCKING LOOSE LEAF PAPER! I DON'T FUNCTION ON LOOSE LEAF! And fuck, he treats us like fucking idiots. The rest of my class might be, not being able to figure out what X is if 2x - 2 = 0. I AM NOT A FUCKING IDIOT! He won't even let us use the word, "parabola" because it's too hard for us! What the fuck! Fucking bastard!
On the bright side, I spent all of math in a Jung/PJ sandwich. At least I'm not completely alone.
I had block four off, giving me time to rant and rave to Beckie and Shalaleh. Beckie and I talked dance, then taught Shalaleh how to play big two.
Block five was history. I like the semesters where my day ends with a happy note. I'm very optimistic about history. Love it like I hate math. I don't like alpha order though. I'm stuck in a corner.
Rugby meeting after school, then I talked to Kush in a bathroom for an hour.
Went to dance early, watched Luke half-heartedly help eleven year old children with their dance, and hoped to a higher deity that I don't turn out to be one of the dreaded dancing moms later in life. I'd like to think that I'll have something better to do with my time then sign my kids up for three or four dance classes and sit outside with other moms gossiping. At least I would know what I was talking about when it came to what the kids inside were doing. Bloody hell, they piss me off. Luckily they all admire me and want their kids to be just like me. Or Luke. I didn't say much today; I wasn't in the mood to humour them. A little girl was playing with my phone.
I have officially stopped trying to make Donna happy. I'll be fine on stage. We go through this every year.
Home, homework, how I hate math. Hot chocolate.
Sunday movies, Mikhael. Pursuit of Happyness and Arthur and the Invisibles. Dinner at Mikhael's after, then home.
Today. Um, choir, some woman doing her practicum, looking about six months pregnant. I don't like having a different conductor. At the end of class I introduced myself as the one-who's-always-late-so-don't-mark-me-absent-because-attendance-is-worth-a-good-chunk-of-my-grade.
French block one. I'm not used to having class in block one. Luckily Bellemare spent part of the class trying to get people to leave, then spoke really slowly for the benefit of the former Thompson students. The resolution for our debate is about privatizing healthcare. Beckie and I just know that we'll be stuck with affirmative.
TOK. We didn't do much. Hunnings outlined the course, then we were discussing whether or not Carolee was African-Canadian, and whether or not her ancestors at one point lived in Finland (she just sat there the whole time saying, "Yeah, I was born in South Africa, but I'm Chinese.")
Math. FUCKING MATH. Fuck, I HATE fucking Rahemtulla. Who fucking does math in fucking PEN! And the fucking squiggly line. And FUCKING LOOSE LEAF PAPER! I DON'T FUNCTION ON LOOSE LEAF! And fuck, he treats us like fucking idiots. The rest of my class might be, not being able to figure out what X is if 2x - 2 = 0. I AM NOT A FUCKING IDIOT! He won't even let us use the word, "parabola" because it's too hard for us! What the fuck! Fucking bastard!
On the bright side, I spent all of math in a Jung/PJ sandwich. At least I'm not completely alone.
I had block four off, giving me time to rant and rave to Beckie and Shalaleh. Beckie and I talked dance, then taught Shalaleh how to play big two.
Block five was history. I like the semesters where my day ends with a happy note. I'm very optimistic about history. Love it like I hate math. I don't like alpha order though. I'm stuck in a corner.
Rugby meeting after school, then I talked to Kush in a bathroom for an hour.
Went to dance early, watched Luke half-heartedly help eleven year old children with their dance, and hoped to a higher deity that I don't turn out to be one of the dreaded dancing moms later in life. I'd like to think that I'll have something better to do with my time then sign my kids up for three or four dance classes and sit outside with other moms gossiping. At least I would know what I was talking about when it came to what the kids inside were doing. Bloody hell, they piss me off. Luckily they all admire me and want their kids to be just like me. Or Luke. I didn't say much today; I wasn't in the mood to humour them. A little girl was playing with my phone.
I have officially stopped trying to make Donna happy. I'll be fine on stage. We go through this every year.
Home, homework, how I hate math. Hot chocolate.
Abby wandered off at 9:58 p.m.
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