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becs1024Tomorrow's the last day of school before February break. It doesn't seem real, though, so I can't really muster up the excitement. We'll see how I feel after a quiz, a test and an in-class essay. *cracks knuckles*
For the first time ever, there is controversy at Ridge over the school paper, The Devil's Advocate. Colleen Andrews wrote an editorial about sexism on the fencing team, which is absolute bullshit, and most of the team is up in arms. Also, some skinny, attention-starved freshman wrote a column detailing how out-of-shape and lazy the student body is, citing gym classes and the cheerleading squad as specific examples. Needless to say, kids are pissed, especially cheerleaders. Which is comical when you ignore the fact that this girl was stupid enough to indirectly insult over a thousand kids. I'm shocked that Mr. Mingle let it get printed.
So, yeah, drama all up in the BR.
Oh, so I want to know something: Why is it that the brunt of the mockery Joel and I endure is from John Clark and Paul Bertollini? They're two of the most visable PDA champions in the school. Like, shut up, you two. (And I just realized that might sound like they mack on each other, which they do not, in fact, do. Sorry for the image.)
Meredith and I spent our entire lunch period today standing in the Nexus talking to Neigel. It was hilarious. We talked about Battle of the Sexes and how Neigel met Sirus on a street once. We talked about how Naveen is fucking crazy. We talked about my Members Only jacket. We talked about how Neigel could pass as a kid. We talked about how Enzo sang "Milkshake" at Meredith off-key. It was fun. There are only so many teachers you can talk to, y'know?
So to amuse basically JT, Jen Ducz and myself, I'm in the process of writing Great Gatsby fanfiction. It's so nerdy, but so fun. I love writing Gatsby's dialogue. And, because this was conceived as a parody, I really want it to end with a Gatsby/Nick kiss, but the fic doesn't want to go in that direction and it's annoying me. Eh, if it doesn't, it doesn't. It's less work for me to write a less corny story. It's still pretty funny, though.
Also... Never mind. I have nothing else to say, and I'm really tired - like, cross-eyed tired. Why is it that I have nothing to say this week? I should get that checked out.
For the first time ever, there is controversy at Ridge over the school paper, The Devil's Advocate. Colleen Andrews wrote an editorial about sexism on the fencing team, which is absolute bullshit, and most of the team is up in arms. Also, some skinny, attention-starved freshman wrote a column detailing how out-of-shape and lazy the student body is, citing gym classes and the cheerleading squad as specific examples. Needless to say, kids are pissed, especially cheerleaders. Which is comical when you ignore the fact that this girl was stupid enough to indirectly insult over a thousand kids. I'm shocked that Mr. Mingle let it get printed.
So, yeah, drama all up in the BR.
Oh, so I want to know something: Why is it that the brunt of the mockery Joel and I endure is from John Clark and Paul Bertollini? They're two of the most visable PDA champions in the school. Like, shut up, you two. (And I just realized that might sound like they mack on each other, which they do not, in fact, do. Sorry for the image.)
Meredith and I spent our entire lunch period today standing in the Nexus talking to Neigel. It was hilarious. We talked about Battle of the Sexes and how Neigel met Sirus on a street once. We talked about how Naveen is fucking crazy. We talked about my Members Only jacket. We talked about how Neigel could pass as a kid. We talked about how Enzo sang "Milkshake" at Meredith off-key. It was fun. There are only so many teachers you can talk to, y'know?
So to amuse basically JT, Jen Ducz and myself, I'm in the process of writing Great Gatsby fanfiction. It's so nerdy, but so fun. I love writing Gatsby's dialogue. And, because this was conceived as a parody, I really want it to end with a Gatsby/Nick kiss, but the fic doesn't want to go in that direction and it's annoying me. Eh, if it doesn't, it doesn't. It's less work for me to write a less corny story. It's still pretty funny, though.
Also... Never mind. I have nothing else to say, and I'm really tired - like, cross-eyed tired. Why is it that I have nothing to say this week? I should get that checked out.
