"Rows and rows of soldiers"
With one quarter of an hour left in my free period I have finally taken the initiative, faced my demons of laziness, and decided to update my dusty livejournal. The horrid hell of JCS has long since swung to a close, and the end of the school year tantalizingly approaches. I have three final projects due this week, determining my grade in at least my English class where my grade is dangling precariously over the edge of B.
I survived all four of my AP tests without too much struggle, though my history test could have easily come out much better. Unfortunately, I did NOT memorize the title and subject of every single book of and ounce of influence. Beyond Common Sense, Uncle Tom's Cabin, and Mein Kampf, I'm fairly clueless. All these things aside, my spirit has been sharply uplifted by the thought of Interlochen's nearing commencement, and my perfect score on my ACT. Yes, you heard me right, your very own Jordan got the highest possible score of 36 on his test. It's quite the boost of confidence, considering my mediocre grade and my SATs slated for this saturday (to the dismay of my graduating friends whose ceremony is at the same time.)
I think, however, that I will miss this school year in some ways--it's kickass teachers, entertaining classes and relaxing schedule with a free period both morning and afternoon. Yet, I am also ready to embody the senior about to emerge and frolick in the delights of a schedule purely self-selected and the eventual answer to the looming question of where I will attend college.
The only thing that has hardly changed is the underlying mantra generated by my overly-hormone saturated brain: boys. I need them.
I am bound to make myself miserable. I decided at the last second to audition for next year's Vocalicious, to which I will probably once again be rejected by elitism. The only reason why I can think that I'm willing to make myself so pathetically frustrated is because I've always wanted to be in an a cappella group and this could be my last chance. Why oh why do I do this?
I survived all four of my AP tests without too much struggle, though my history test could have easily come out much better. Unfortunately, I did NOT memorize the title and subject of every single book of and ounce of influence. Beyond Common Sense, Uncle Tom's Cabin, and Mein Kampf, I'm fairly clueless. All these things aside, my spirit has been sharply uplifted by the thought of Interlochen's nearing commencement, and my perfect score on my ACT. Yes, you heard me right, your very own Jordan got the highest possible score of 36 on his test. It's quite the boost of confidence, considering my mediocre grade and my SATs slated for this saturday (to the dismay of my graduating friends whose ceremony is at the same time.)
I think, however, that I will miss this school year in some ways--it's kickass teachers, entertaining classes and relaxing schedule with a free period both morning and afternoon. Yet, I am also ready to embody the senior about to emerge and frolick in the delights of a schedule purely self-selected and the eventual answer to the looming question of where I will attend college.
The only thing that has hardly changed is the underlying mantra generated by my overly-hormone saturated brain: boys. I need them.
I am bound to make myself miserable. I decided at the last second to audition for next year's Vocalicious, to which I will probably once again be rejected by elitism. The only reason why I can think that I'm willing to make myself so pathetically frustrated is because I've always wanted to be in an a cappella group and this could be my last chance. Why oh why do I do this?