(no subject)
...Wow. Really, wow.
I woke up this morning thinking it was Thursday. I wish it was. It was an alright day today. Until 5th period. And, it's a shame, really. Mrs. Burns wasn't here today, and the substitute was a cool guy, who I've had before a few times. Mr. Hensley or something.
ANYWAYS. I'm sitting there, starting on my bajillion chapter 27 vocab, and Gingrosso comes to the door, asking for me by my last name. Now, of course, he can't actually PRONOUNCE my last name, buuuut, I know it's me.
He asks me to follow, and I do. I actually wonder if this is because Nick got pulled over by Beatle Bailey yesterday afterschool for being retarded or something, and I was a witness. So I follow him, while he waddles ahead of me. I get to his office, and see the back of my father's head and CONNIENOLAN'S natural, blank face.
Big sigh.
Long story short, Nolan didn't like the past 3 papers I did for her class. One was a personal paper, which turned into a big rant. The second was a short story, that I really liked and wanted to rewrite for her assignment due Tuesday. The last was a persuasive paper, which wasn't anything special. Now, these three papers are the one's she wanted us to choose from to rewrite. Pick one of the three, turn in finalfinalfinal copy on Tuesday. I had planned on changing the last half of my short story, cause I fucking hated how I ended it.
The first two papers mentioned (personal essay and short story) I, well, cursed up and down in. Now, the personal essay turned into a like.. rant of the school, and things that generally anger me. Sure, I got a little carried away, but hell, my mother even proof-read that one. And that's the worst one. The short story had a few swears in it, but it was from the mindset of the character. What gets me, is that I've had friends who have turned in violent, harsh stories, and their parent's were never called in concern.
Yes, they organized this meeting because they were concerned if I was okay.
...
....
......
..
HAH.
Nolan said she went through all my other papers I've written for her, and was comparing them. Wondered to herself if she missed something with me. Said those three I mentioned above were just angry. ANGRY! GRR! But, of course, I'm apparently a talented writer, and a smart guy. Ginagrosso is a former English teacher? The fuck? Nolan said as she was reading them, it felt like someone punched the wind out of her. Good God. Talk about sheltered? I dunno if I'd go that far as to say that, but overly sensitive? Yes.
They even made my mother cry. Fuckers. Mom's not my most favored person in the world, but it's the principle of the thing.
Yes, I know what I did wrong. I cursed! NOWAI! I'm sorry, I'm in HONORS English 11. I guess I thought I'd be accepted a little, and the SLIGHT swears in my short story could slide. Let alone the subject matter. They should've and could've told me just to completely rewrite those 3. No. Instead, for my "punishment," I HAVE to write a personal essay on something that like, changed my life or something I learned from. I think I'll do it on how I learned teenagers can't get the benefit of the doubt anymore, because of some stupid fuckheads who got pissed off and needed to grow a pair and deal. And how my own high school censored me.
All in all, fuck you Pelham. I return to Burns' class with like.. 10 minutes left. I walk into the class room, and it's dead silent. The sub turns to me as I walk to my seat, and as I'm sitting down, he goes, "So, Neal, you in trouble?" I smile and chuckle.
"Something like that."
"Well, what happened?" he asks.
"Uhh.."
"Say something!" someone in class crys.
"Well, I wrote a couple papers for Nolan that she was none-too-happy about."
"Why?" the sub asks.
"Well.. I cursed like a sailor up and down in them."
He laughs. I laugh. The class laughs.
"Dude, that's awesome, seriously." someone in the back says.
So, I got 5 minutes of fame in U.S. History 11. Wonderfuck.
I woke up this morning thinking it was Thursday. I wish it was. It was an alright day today. Until 5th period. And, it's a shame, really. Mrs. Burns wasn't here today, and the substitute was a cool guy, who I've had before a few times. Mr. Hensley or something.
ANYWAYS. I'm sitting there, starting on my bajillion chapter 27 vocab, and Gingrosso comes to the door, asking for me by my last name. Now, of course, he can't actually PRONOUNCE my last name, buuuut, I know it's me.
He asks me to follow, and I do. I actually wonder if this is because Nick got pulled over by Beatle Bailey yesterday afterschool for being retarded or something, and I was a witness. So I follow him, while he waddles ahead of me. I get to his office, and see the back of my father's head and CONNIENOLAN'S natural, blank face.
Big sigh.
Long story short, Nolan didn't like the past 3 papers I did for her class. One was a personal paper, which turned into a big rant. The second was a short story, that I really liked and wanted to rewrite for her assignment due Tuesday. The last was a persuasive paper, which wasn't anything special. Now, these three papers are the one's she wanted us to choose from to rewrite. Pick one of the three, turn in finalfinalfinal copy on Tuesday. I had planned on changing the last half of my short story, cause I fucking hated how I ended it.
The first two papers mentioned (personal essay and short story) I, well, cursed up and down in. Now, the personal essay turned into a like.. rant of the school, and things that generally anger me. Sure, I got a little carried away, but hell, my mother even proof-read that one. And that's the worst one. The short story had a few swears in it, but it was from the mindset of the character. What gets me, is that I've had friends who have turned in violent, harsh stories, and their parent's were never called in concern.
Yes, they organized this meeting because they were concerned if I was okay.
...
....
......
..
HAH.
Nolan said she went through all my other papers I've written for her, and was comparing them. Wondered to herself if she missed something with me. Said those three I mentioned above were just angry. ANGRY! GRR! But, of course, I'm apparently a talented writer, and a smart guy. Ginagrosso is a former English teacher? The fuck? Nolan said as she was reading them, it felt like someone punched the wind out of her. Good God. Talk about sheltered? I dunno if I'd go that far as to say that, but overly sensitive? Yes.
They even made my mother cry. Fuckers. Mom's not my most favored person in the world, but it's the principle of the thing.
Yes, I know what I did wrong. I cursed! NOWAI! I'm sorry, I'm in HONORS English 11. I guess I thought I'd be accepted a little, and the SLIGHT swears in my short story could slide. Let alone the subject matter. They should've and could've told me just to completely rewrite those 3. No. Instead, for my "punishment," I HAVE to write a personal essay on something that like, changed my life or something I learned from. I think I'll do it on how I learned teenagers can't get the benefit of the doubt anymore, because of some stupid fuckheads who got pissed off and needed to grow a pair and deal. And how my own high school censored me.
All in all, fuck you Pelham. I return to Burns' class with like.. 10 minutes left. I walk into the class room, and it's dead silent. The sub turns to me as I walk to my seat, and as I'm sitting down, he goes, "So, Neal, you in trouble?" I smile and chuckle.
"Something like that."
"Well, what happened?" he asks.
"Uhh.."
"Say something!" someone in class crys.
"Well, I wrote a couple papers for Nolan that she was none-too-happy about."
"Why?" the sub asks.
"Well.. I cursed like a sailor up and down in them."
He laughs. I laugh. The class laughs.
"Dude, that's awesome, seriously." someone in the back says.
So, I got 5 minutes of fame in U.S. History 11. Wonderfuck.