So, yes, I am in Journalism right now, with nothing to do. I have been demonstrating a severe amount of procybernating (like procrastination... only on the internet... aha... you see what I did there?), so I haven't posted in a few days. But that's cool. It'smyblogidowhattiwant!
Today Denny's is giving out free Grand Slam breakfasts until 2:00 today... class lets out at 2:30... it hurts; it really does.
Yesterday I received a massive blow to my self-esteem when we got our quiz scores back in Stats. Sellers showed the grade distribution, and it was about 85% As. The rest were Bs, 2 Cs, and 1 D. Well, as you probably guessed by now, that D was scribbled in blood-red across the top of my quiz. Argh! It was all a mistake! I'm innocent! It was just an error! Honestly, I don't know whether to be relieved or pissed off that I knew the material but still managed to fail (or... 'dail'?) At any rate, it was a pretty gosh darn awful way to kick off the new semester. That... D... staining my records!
Ehh... what the feck, it was just a quiz. Redemption, thy name is J-Mil.
Speaking of redemption (I think; I'm not sure if that's the right word), my guidance counselor called me at home yesterday. She is the sweetest woman I've ever met; very quiet and polite and timid-- but she was pissed. She was calling me out about sending her a "Nastygram" (hello J-Mil, welcome to the fifth grade, you can hang your backpack in the coat room and put your lunch in your cubby)... I was very confused. I had sent her a letter last week which is why I kept listening, but the content of that letter was, "Hello, please send my Counselor Evaluations ASAP! :)" Short and forward, granted, but I don't know if I would go so far as to call it a "Nastygram." And then she started bringing up things I KNEW I had never done... stuff about applying to Northern University and transcript requests... "Wait-- wait. I never applied to Northern University. And I haven't requested any transcripts recently. When I did, they were all sent!" Or something like that.
"Aren't you Jessica Miller?"
"...Yes."
Silence on the phone.
"I... completely have the wrong student."
Then it was a wave of apologies. I felt bad; she was obviously embarrassed. I understand that mid-year is kind of like the Highway to Hell for counselors, so I sympathized that she was frustrated and disoriented... anyway, the next day (today) during Stats she called me out of my class and apologized once more, and gave me a Starbucks gift card! DID I NOT TELL YOU she is the sweetest woman alive... and I know some pretty sweet women. So, even if I don't get a Grand Slam for lunch today, I'll at least have a Venti mocha frappuccino with mint syrup to console me.
Early Thursday morning I am leaving for Santa Fe (New Mexico... heowz yeah!) to attend my cousin's batmizvah. Though I have seen them in various places at various points in time, I haven't actually gone to Santa Fe to visit my relatives in... yeesh... 11 years? 12? More? The memories are vague. But more exciting than visiting Santa Fe is attending my first batmitzvah. Though (pre-divorce) I was raised to accept both my mother's faith (Catholic) and my father's faith (Jewish), I never went through all the motions of attending Jewish schools and learning Hebrew. I'm not sure if I would've enjoyed it anyway-- I hated Sunday school-- but I'm excited to learn a little bit more about the less closed-minded (my mom is a bitch; did we cover that?) half of my religious background. And great food!
But it's going to be cold as Frosty's toenails. Yeah. Just made that up.
Cohen just told us that if underage teens send naked photographs of themselves to people-- i.e. their significant other-- then they can become registered sex offenders for distributing child pornography.
Outcries from the room:
"But the picture is of themselves!"
"What if they're wearing a bathing suit?"
"Naw, you have to be naked."
"What the fuhhhhhhh?"
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