Four more weeks of school
I don't see the point of wearing pretty clothes for everyone in school to see. I don't see the point in wearing sandals, heals, short skirts, pretty tops and dresses if mi bebe can't see them.
I'm back to wearing everything with Chuck Taylors and seldomly flip flops are thrown in there. Pants. Gimme pants- baggy, faded, tight, long, old or new.
I didn't go to Creative Writing class due to not being 'creative' at ALL for the past week. I was to have a poem and an explication to it 3 days ago. Instead I went to Victor's English class since they had a substitute.
I don't skip at all (have done it a couple times) but I seriously didn't feel like letting Mrs. Clark down. As soon as I walked into that classroom, I noticed the obvious: every single student is hispanic with the exception of an Asian boy who timidly looked away when our eyes met.
The substitute was very familar- Yep. That's him. The viejito who substituted for Mrs. Hernandez last year, who got thrown 2 crumpled up sheets of paper while he slept in her chair. He immediatly called security and blamed more than 6 people for it, getting them in trouble, suspension included. He's WAY too viejito. Pobrecito.
He didn't even care that I wasn't on his list when he called for attendance. While lazy classmates gathered their stuff and pushed desks around so they would make a big circle, the work was being passed around. Cheaters. Copying off of the Asian student.
This peruvian boy pissed me off the most. Son of a bitch kept talking and singing- UGH with that almost mexican accent that drives me up the fucking wall. I told him to plase be quiet and when he looked up at me, he gasped and said in a high pitched voice: Hey! I know you!!.. Uh, 7th grade. You were my neighbor a couple of years back. I remember playing soccer with your brother.
I nodded and asked for him to lower his voice once again. He apologized and pretended to be smart about doing the assigned work, and that's when I caught that it was an ESOL English class. None of them knew english enough to construct sentences. As they read in enlgish, it brought me back to when I first got here. And my really heavy accent. Not very pleasant memories. But I did learn that even in the 5th grade you had this two-faced, disrespectful, ignorant motherfuckers who cursed nonstop and strangely enough, I picked up that really BAD habit.
I used to be serious about not cursing. I thought it was the most horrid. Most disgustingly hurtful if said to others. Or even thinking about saying them, I'd feel guilty instantly. I thought I'd go to hell. It'd be nice if it was still like that.
In Art class I had to model again. It's getting annoying. This time the spotlight was on me. The room was suddenly dark, and one light was left on me. "Get all the shading done. Including the pose and her pretty face", said Mr. Gambil.
I was to sit high up in this table for about 6 minutes, in the most unomfortable position where my fingers on my left hand were numb beyond believe, my neck and back were aching, and my legs were trembling so hard, that the constant movement made the table shake a bit, causing an object from the table to break.
My allergies weren't helping either. People made stupid jokes about me doing cocaine since I kept sniffing, and scratching my nose and my eyes were exhausted and red. My face itched all day and the inside of my tummy felt as if twizers were picking at my intestines. I felt like beating the shit out of someone and since no one volunteered I punched the desk pretty hard enough to leave my right hand unable to write for a good hour.
My behavior in school today annoyed me every minute. I sat alone in the bus, the whole time looking out the window, thinking about how fed up you can get nowadays and the reasons for it all.
I'm going to beg if necessary for Tati to come with me and grab some coffee this evening.
I'm back to wearing everything with Chuck Taylors and seldomly flip flops are thrown in there. Pants. Gimme pants- baggy, faded, tight, long, old or new.
I didn't go to Creative Writing class due to not being 'creative' at ALL for the past week. I was to have a poem and an explication to it 3 days ago. Instead I went to Victor's English class since they had a substitute.
I don't skip at all (have done it a couple times) but I seriously didn't feel like letting Mrs. Clark down. As soon as I walked into that classroom, I noticed the obvious: every single student is hispanic with the exception of an Asian boy who timidly looked away when our eyes met.
The substitute was very familar- Yep. That's him. The viejito who substituted for Mrs. Hernandez last year, who got thrown 2 crumpled up sheets of paper while he slept in her chair. He immediatly called security and blamed more than 6 people for it, getting them in trouble, suspension included. He's WAY too viejito. Pobrecito.
He didn't even care that I wasn't on his list when he called for attendance. While lazy classmates gathered their stuff and pushed desks around so they would make a big circle, the work was being passed around. Cheaters. Copying off of the Asian student.
This peruvian boy pissed me off the most. Son of a bitch kept talking and singing- UGH with that almost mexican accent that drives me up the fucking wall. I told him to plase be quiet and when he looked up at me, he gasped and said in a high pitched voice: Hey! I know you!!.. Uh, 7th grade. You were my neighbor a couple of years back. I remember playing soccer with your brother.
I nodded and asked for him to lower his voice once again. He apologized and pretended to be smart about doing the assigned work, and that's when I caught that it was an ESOL English class. None of them knew english enough to construct sentences. As they read in enlgish, it brought me back to when I first got here. And my really heavy accent. Not very pleasant memories. But I did learn that even in the 5th grade you had this two-faced, disrespectful, ignorant motherfuckers who cursed nonstop and strangely enough, I picked up that really BAD habit.
I used to be serious about not cursing. I thought it was the most horrid. Most disgustingly hurtful if said to others. Or even thinking about saying them, I'd feel guilty instantly. I thought I'd go to hell. It'd be nice if it was still like that.
In Art class I had to model again. It's getting annoying. This time the spotlight was on me. The room was suddenly dark, and one light was left on me. "Get all the shading done. Including the pose and her pretty face", said Mr. Gambil.
I was to sit high up in this table for about 6 minutes, in the most unomfortable position where my fingers on my left hand were numb beyond believe, my neck and back were aching, and my legs were trembling so hard, that the constant movement made the table shake a bit, causing an object from the table to break.
My allergies weren't helping either. People made stupid jokes about me doing cocaine since I kept sniffing, and scratching my nose and my eyes were exhausted and red. My face itched all day and the inside of my tummy felt as if twizers were picking at my intestines. I felt like beating the shit out of someone and since no one volunteered I punched the desk pretty hard enough to leave my right hand unable to write for a good hour.
My behavior in school today annoyed me every minute. I sat alone in the bus, the whole time looking out the window, thinking about how fed up you can get nowadays and the reasons for it all.
I'm going to beg if necessary for Tati to come with me and grab some coffee this evening.