Not much was going on during school. I still feel miserable there, mostly because it’s a really big transistion for me. McCormick’s very diffrent from all the other schools I’ve been to, and that’s really taking it’s toll on me.

 (It also does not help that everyone at McCormick’s is insane).

 Today I was in Mr.Smeney’s class for third period. He gives us the last two minutes of class for doing whatever we want. I started reading, and out of curiousity, I glanced up to see what Mr.Smeney was doing.

 And he was s right at me.

 And smiling.

 CREEPY. Maybe if he was a CUTE teacher, I wouldn’t mind so much. But he’s like 50 something. And I barely know him. So it was scary. I looked at him, saw him smiling at me, felt my eyes widen and thought, ‘What the f*ck?”‘, and then quickly looked down at my book.

 I told my mom about it later.

 ”Maybe you remind him of someone,” she says, pausing, “like his daughter.” I laugh. Remembering Mr.Smeney’s age, she says, “Or maybe his great-grandaughter.” I roll my eyes.

 ”More like his great-great-great-great-great-great-grand daughter.”

 ”Or maybe someone he knew during the Civil War.” I nod. That’s probably it.

 Anyway, we had two films, so I was a little excited because, hey, it’s just watching the screen. It’s got to be better than listening to Mr. Smeney’s voice the whole period. The first thing I noticed about the films was that there was small print that said “MADE IN 1964.” Uh-oh. This wasn’t looking good. I still had some hope…

 It was all pictures. A narrator, (who might as well’ve been Mr. Smeney himself), droned on and every so often the picture would change from a presidential portrait to a house burning down. Yipee.

 P.S. I heard another joke insinutating having sex with someone else’s mother! Here it is:

 The spanish teacher, Dr. Sun, (Yeah, he’s asian, don’t ask),  asked us if we had ever been to the MET. (Metropolitan Museum of Art). They were some hands raised, (including mine), and one kid, (John, [He's also asian]) mentioned, “It’s free on Fridays.” One kid wasn’t paying attention, and said, “What’s free on Fridays?” And John, (with expert timing), replied, “Your mom.”

 Oh, what lovely children I associate with.

 While I desperately try to climb on top of the monkey bars, Ellen talks to me: “Hey, are you Mexican?” I grab a monkey bar and hoist myself onto a precarious perch. “Nope. I’m Puerto Rican.” I turn to look at her. “Why?”

 ”Well, all the Mexican people I know are either gay or bisexual, so-” At this point, I almost fall from my perch. I let out a little scream, and Ellen laughs. “Are you okay?” “Yeah,” I say, holding the bars tighter. Ellen moves onto another topic.

 What the Hell? I’m bisexual, but I certainly don’t remember telling Ellen that. I wonder if she has a bi-dar. I’ve heard of gay-dars, but… Bi-dar? That’s sort of ridiculous. Maybe she thinks I’m gay. But I don’t think I act sterotypicaly gay or anything like that-

 My head hurts.

 P.S. Jokes that insinuate having sex with somebody elses mom are really popular at my school for some reason. (Note that my school is 15th in the nation for being awesome, cream of the crop etc.)

 While we were still in Gym waiting to go outside, I heard a boy threaten a girl with this comment: “Brenda! I’ve impregnated your mother once, don’t think I won’t do it again!”

 Seriously.

 I feel like smacking those people in the face right now. I hadn’t missed a darn thing. It’s as if all the teachers were like, “Chey’s not here? F*ck it then. We’ll just sit here and not do sh*t.” Ugh.

 Today I had Trigonometry and Geometry in a row. That means two hours of sitting in the same room, with two boring as all Hell subjects. And then, the teacher, Mr. Camorra, always acts suprised that I have both classes in a row. Trigonometry will end and I won’t get up, and he’ll be like, “Chey? You have Geometry here too?” And I’ll nod and wonder if he’s mentally ill, and he’ll nod and say, “Very good.” No. No Mr. Camorra, you must be on crack because it is not very good.

 Plus my chemistry teacher is senile. He tells the same stories over and over again, seemingly because he forgot he already told us. The first time you tell a joke, it’s funny, the second time it’s cute…

 The thirty third time?

 It’s just sad.

 Seeing as today is a Sunday, nothing much happened. I rotted away at home and I’m currently dreading going to school tommorow. Yay.

 Here are the reasons why I am dreading going to that hellhole called McCormick:

1) I am the “new kid”. I have a few friends here and there, but people still stare at me and actually, (and by that I mean LITERALLY), ask me, “Who the f*ck are you?”

2) My stupid ID that I wear is yellow. This is not the sophomore color. This is the junior color. Hence, I often get mistook for a junior. Now, you may be thinking, “That’s sort of cool!” No. It’s not cool in the least. People often think that I’ve been left back and am therefore, stupid. Double yay.

3) My teachers are OLD. Yes, this is a stupid, “young person thing” for me to say. I know I’m going to get old too, but seriously. If there is a God, he did NOT mean for people to live so darn long. At least when I get this horribly old, I’ll have the deceny to off myself, not torture little kids.

 There are so many more reasons, but I don’t really wanna bore you, (or myself), by listing everything. So, see you tommorow!

P.S. I just found Jennifer Love Hewitt’s myspace. She’s smokin’ hot. <3