The Worst Time of Year is about to begin: The week before school gets out. Everyone is anxious, annoying, and probably very tired. No one wants to do school anymore. Few people have more than 2 exams, and there is very little reason why I'm getting up at 7:30 to go to that place. If you find watching hackneyed Disney movies educating, and worthwhile, you should be shot.
I have made it through eight and a half months of "school". I didn't really learn anything. Oh, wait, I did learn how to color. More than 50% of all my homework assignments involved coloring. Why? Because Ms. Bodner is... great. If you have her (or even if you don't) you know she is clinically insane, or on massive amounts of Vicodin, or something, because that woman is crazy. There have been very few times in my scholastic career that I have actually wished death upon a teacher. Ms. Bodner is one of them. Here is a typical conversation you would probably have with The Bodnerator.
You: I need to turn in my plant lab.
B: Okay, but it's going to be late.
You: But I was at UIL.
B: You should have turned it in early.
You: But I can't do it the day you gave it to us...
B: That is your responsibility, not mine.
You: That's mildly unfair.
B: You are being disrespectful, and I will not stand for that. You need to come after school to fill out a behavior slip.
You: What?
B: I will not discuss this any longer.
You: Fine... (at this point, you realize it is a futile effort to argue.)
B: I like puppies. They are cute!
No, really, that is actually something that would happen. No exaggeration whatsoever. I'm am thoroughly relieved to know I will never have to talk to her again. Unless there is some awkward run-in, in which we both pretend we don't despise one another, and talk about how nice the weather is. And then I'd find any opportunity to leave, and rather quickly.
Which reminds me.
A few days ago, I went with my brother to get his haircut. The reason for me being there was because he usually gets way too much cut off, and then looks really awkward for a month or two. I needed to correctly explain how I (it's more about me than him, really) wanted it cut.
Because we were at the mall, I decided I'd kill some time going shopping. I mean, the mall is kinda... lame, but I will never pass up an opportunity to look at shoes I will never buy. So, I'm going around, looking at things, you know, shopping. And everything is fine; as long as there is someone else in the store besides the store owner. When there isn't it is particularily awkward. I walked into a small shoe store, and was looking at Steve Madden black patent flats, which I need, but cannot buy, and the lady working there continues to talk to me.
(Yes, I know this is the second conversation I've put here, but it's so much easier this way.)
Lady: Hello!
Me: Hi.
Lady: Is there anything I could help you find? A style or color you're looking for?
Me: No, not right now. I'm just looking.
Lady: (Mildly disheartened) Oh. Okay.
and a few minutes pass by. And I start eyeing some Nine West white, pointed toe heels. She comes back over and says
Lady: We have some clearance items over there.
Me: Okay.
(Awkward silence)
Lady: Would you like to try those on?
at this time I realized this was the perfect time to make my escape.
Me: Yes, I would. I'm a size 8.
then the lady went to the back. I grabbed my purse, and ran out of the store. Now, any normal person would have just left. But that's not how I am. I would have felt bad if I would have walked out while she was ambushing me with her questions. What really bothered me about that whole scene was, is it not normal for people to just, you know, look? Do people not do that anymore? Maybe it was because I was by myself. Normally I'm with Nancy or Sarah, or someone. I guess they thought I was lonely and really wanted to buy something. I don't know. The point is: I don't like talking to people I wouldn't normally talk to. Like store owners, or cashiers, or teachers, or doctors, or secretaries, or receptionists, or librarians. And more than anything, I hate asking them things. That is basically saying: "Hello, would you please talk to me?" And no. I do not want to talk to them.
Anyways, this summer, I will be going to the Funmazing State of... NEBRASKA! You've probably fainted from shock at the idea of spending lengthy amounts of time there. The jealousy has plauged you. Not only will I be going for my family reunion, I will also be going for a week for my birthday. By myself. With my grandparents. If the jealousy hadn't already caused you to renounce your religion, it will now. I will keep you updated on all of my fabulous mishappenings on this blog. Ew. I hate calling it a blog. I feel so hipster. Oh well.
Cyincally Yours,
Adrienne