Second Day of School
The second day of school went way better than the first. For starters I got a locker to keep my crap in. That's pretty awesome. The freshmen also got to sit through an assembly so Hot Vice Principal could tell us the rules we already know:
Rule #1: Don't dress like a slut. I'm talking to you cheerleaders, in your revealing school-issued uniforms.
Rule #2: Don't cut class. It turns out the actual learning portion of school takes place in the class room, not in the bathroom where you fix your hair or in the stairwell where you go to make out with your girlfriend.
Rule #3: Don't bully people. Especially those band geeks. God knows they're the only ones winning trophies for this dump. If someone's gay, black, or fat its open season on them, what have they done for this school anyway?
Umm, those are really the only three rules I remember. I was exchanging some pretty meaningful glances with the girl next to me, maybe because I kept making sarcastic remarks about Mr. Fayle every five seconds, or maybe because she wants me.
After that we went to French class, and we got to pick our French names. We pick names in all the foreign language classes. My Spanish name is Dolores because its sounds like a secretary name which can be very hilarious if played right, and also because I'm a smart ass. Dolor means pain in Spanish, so I figured it fits since I'll be doing my best to be a pain in the ass. So in French my name is Sophie because its pretty much the only name I could pronounce right.
After we had picked our French names, I simultaneously had a heart attack and wet myself when the fire alarm went off. Never fear. It was only a drill. So I followed Emilie(that's her French name) out of the school and over to the tennis courts. I haven't mentioned Emilie yet, but I literally grew up down the street from her, she's like the butch older sister I never had. She's also badass. She smokes and she's been held back twice. She's a sophomore. Now it may sound like Emilie is a mean person, but when you've known her for like 10 years she's actually really cool to you and asks how your family is doing and whatnot. It's nice to have a scary upperclassman to look out for you.
So the rest of the day was pretty uneventful after that. I went to all my classes and when the day was over I went home. Oh, and then the fun started when I actually got home. I'll give you some background first. My mom is very childish, I know that might sound mean to say, but when she doesn't get her way she gets very...bitchy, just like me, which is how I know she's childish. She's probably worse than me, but we'll save that discussion for later. So here's what went down:
I just walked into the house and flopped down on the couch (remember, I walk home from school and it's 80 degrees and humid out today. So I was a little tired) and the phone rings and La Madre (I call her Madre, I don't know why, I just like the sound of it) is on the line and here's the convo:
Madre: Hey, can you clean out the trailer?
Me: Ugh
Me: I'm tired
Madre: *silence*
Madre: I'll get it.
Me: Okay (I can sense a storm coming, but in my weakend state cannot take evasive action).
Madre: Okay, well, bye.
Me: Love ya, bye.
Madre: Bye. *Hangs up*
I'm too busy watching CSI and arguing with my brother to realize that I just ran out out onto some thin ice and jumped up and down, but soon I will. When Madre get's home she's acting a little more mean, than usual, y'know, yelling at me for asking who's on the phone, a perfecly legitimate question, and getting angry when I ask her if there's any paper around to make a book cover with. Finally I went outside and cleaned that trailer, and here's what Mom had to say:
Me: I cleaned the trailer.
Puta Madre: Thank you...even though I had to shame you into it.
What? Nice Mom, I know we all love it when you play the shame game (I didn't say it out loud though, because once I got myself locked out of the house for an hour for defying her power). So yeah, now she'll be in a bad mood for the rest of the day and later she'll apologize to me and I'll accept it because its easier than holding a grudge with her. Grrr.
So to leave you on a happy note, I got a note from one of my friends who goes to another high school and that made me feel all warm inside (not like that, sickos) and I'm hoping we go to the mall or the movies this weekend.
Rule #1: Don't dress like a slut. I'm talking to you cheerleaders, in your revealing school-issued uniforms.
Rule #2: Don't cut class. It turns out the actual learning portion of school takes place in the class room, not in the bathroom where you fix your hair or in the stairwell where you go to make out with your girlfriend.
Rule #3: Don't bully people. Especially those band geeks. God knows they're the only ones winning trophies for this dump. If someone's gay, black, or fat its open season on them, what have they done for this school anyway?
Umm, those are really the only three rules I remember. I was exchanging some pretty meaningful glances with the girl next to me, maybe because I kept making sarcastic remarks about Mr. Fayle every five seconds, or maybe because she wants me.
After that we went to French class, and we got to pick our French names. We pick names in all the foreign language classes. My Spanish name is Dolores because its sounds like a secretary name which can be very hilarious if played right, and also because I'm a smart ass. Dolor means pain in Spanish, so I figured it fits since I'll be doing my best to be a pain in the ass. So in French my name is Sophie because its pretty much the only name I could pronounce right.
After we had picked our French names, I simultaneously had a heart attack and wet myself when the fire alarm went off. Never fear. It was only a drill. So I followed Emilie(that's her French name) out of the school and over to the tennis courts. I haven't mentioned Emilie yet, but I literally grew up down the street from her, she's like the butch older sister I never had. She's also badass. She smokes and she's been held back twice. She's a sophomore. Now it may sound like Emilie is a mean person, but when you've known her for like 10 years she's actually really cool to you and asks how your family is doing and whatnot. It's nice to have a scary upperclassman to look out for you.
So the rest of the day was pretty uneventful after that. I went to all my classes and when the day was over I went home. Oh, and then the fun started when I actually got home. I'll give you some background first. My mom is very childish, I know that might sound mean to say, but when she doesn't get her way she gets very...bitchy, just like me, which is how I know she's childish. She's probably worse than me, but we'll save that discussion for later. So here's what went down:
I just walked into the house and flopped down on the couch (remember, I walk home from school and it's 80 degrees and humid out today. So I was a little tired) and the phone rings and La Madre (I call her Madre, I don't know why, I just like the sound of it) is on the line and here's the convo:
Madre: Hey, can you clean out the trailer?
Me: Ugh
Me: I'm tired
Madre: *silence*
Madre: I'll get it.
Me: Okay (I can sense a storm coming, but in my weakend state cannot take evasive action).
Madre: Okay, well, bye.
Me: Love ya, bye.
Madre: Bye. *Hangs up*
I'm too busy watching CSI and arguing with my brother to realize that I just ran out out onto some thin ice and jumped up and down, but soon I will. When Madre get's home she's acting a little more mean, than usual, y'know, yelling at me for asking who's on the phone, a perfecly legitimate question, and getting angry when I ask her if there's any paper around to make a book cover with. Finally I went outside and cleaned that trailer, and here's what Mom had to say:
Me: I cleaned the trailer.
Puta Madre: Thank you...even though I had to shame you into it.
What? Nice Mom, I know we all love it when you play the shame game (I didn't say it out loud though, because once I got myself locked out of the house for an hour for defying her power). So yeah, now she'll be in a bad mood for the rest of the day and later she'll apologize to me and I'll accept it because its easier than holding a grudge with her. Grrr.
So to leave you on a happy note, I got a note from one of my friends who goes to another high school and that made me feel all warm inside (not like that, sickos) and I'm hoping we go to the mall or the movies this weekend.