Wednesday, September 04, 2002
It is so very nice to be blogging, rather than, say, taking the psychology notes I really ought to be taking, or going over my summer reading for the tests tomorrow. I know perfectly well that procrastination is bad. But oh! it feels sooooo good!
Today in study hall, Kate, Kate, Kate and I made a new friend. His name is Ren.
And yes, I do, in fact, mean 3 Kates.
Searching for a certain email... nowhere to be found... I hate it when this happens! Ever so frustrating.
Optical mice are cool little critters.
The brand new Marblehead High School is under fire already. See, they put up all these cheesy and really expensive 'public art' stone carving things. One of them is supposed to depict some black soldier from Marblehead who fought in the Civil War, or the Revolutionary War, or something. The only problem is, the artist did it so that the guy looks like a monkey. I mean, he really, really looks like a monkey. He's got this terrible, long, flat nose... and oy, it's just awful. Anyways, a lot of people are pretty pissed, and rightfully so. They showed the thing on the news. It really couldn't be interpreted as anything else. It's just really, really bad.
See what happens! Marblehead pays hundreds of thousands of dollars (no joke!) for artwork that is terrible and gets them in trouble. Swampscott pays nothing and gets a beautiful, extensive, non-offensive mural, courtesy of Corey, Rebecca and I. Now, I'm not saying that Swampscott High is better than this brand new M'head school. All I'm saying is that high school students make damn good artwork, usually, and they don't usually ask for pay. Silly, silly Marblehead.
I am reading American Tragedy for english. When we were first assigned the book, I thought, "O! Here's one I haven't read before, at least!" Then I started reading it. Within the first few pages I suddenly and frighteningly realized that I knew the father's name, the kid's next job, and how the book ended. I suddenly realized that I could quote the last line of the book. I suddenly realized that I had read the book before.
This was scary, because I always remember what I read. Always. And once I started (re)reading this book, I did remember it all. But I had had no recollection at all that I had already read the book. Yet I had. I dunno, I freak myself out sometimes.
Today Stephanie rejoined our French class, bringing the grand total of students up to 7. A most glorious learning environment.
Must sign up for SATs!! Don't let me forget...
Well, maybe I should go do that now, before I do forget.
The paper cup has water in it. It sits over an open flame from the bunsen burner. The bunsen burner is connected to the gas thingy by way of a legnth of rubber hosing. The paper cup, over the flame, does not catch on fire. It is a miracle. The rubber hose does catch on fire. The room smells like burning rubber.
Ah, the infinitely thrilling trials and tribulations of biology class!
For everyone out there who is not back to school yet, you suck. All of you. Collectively.
We worked on the mural today. It was OK, we didn't really get much done. We've reached the point where most of the big stuff is done, but we haven't got enough done to just concentrate on details. A rather awkward positiong. So to speak. Also, even though it's fall and should, by rights, be nice and cool out, it was around 80 after school. And believe me, you could feel every single one of those 80 degrees painting on those stairs.
Liz wants to know if she could keep her appendix if she had it out. I do not know.
In psychology, we have to determine what 'school of thought' we would use to help solve certain problem situations. But that's not important. What is important is that the problem situations are, to my deranged little mind, entirely hilarious. They are as follows:
-Teach a retarded child to write their name.
-Help a person to quit smoking.
-Help a woman who cries whenever her boss criticizes her, lowering her chances for promotion.
-A husband verbally abuses his wife. The wife feels she is wrong and has low self esteem.
-A depressed man considering suicide does not know why he is depressed.
-A boy is afraid of animals. (all animals, apparently!)
-A man is unhappy about the direction of his life.
-A child continually speaks out and interrupts kindergarten.
I don't know, maybe you don't find it amusing at all, but when I read them, something in there just struck me as irrationally but irrepressably funny.
Leslie got to go to the US Open! She got autographs! Damn, that's really cool.
Intuition is bunk.
The thought of college essays makes me ill. Doesn't it make you ill, too? At least I got started on my portfolio, got it to the photographer and whatnot. That's something. Right? Right?