B___. Home of hippy universalists, Catholics, and Mormons. Also loads of liberals. A couple socialists. A couple lovely sociopaths. That’s my set (the sociopaths; who knows how I ended up with them. . . )
Spirit days for sports are spectacular. Muchos rainbows everywhere. Todos a los gentes participate. However, soccer is the successful sport to celebrate. Football fails. Swimming soars at second in the state. The alliteration alludes to Milton’s Paradise Lost poetry which I am currently reading.
Chemistry contains Mr. A, a lifting presence in my life. His hobby? Lighting things on fire. He has a disdain for bureaucracy and is clever and practical.
Mrs. W has taught APUSH for years, and is sarcastic enough to deflate any puffed up ego and force one to like her. She loves the movie Breaking Away and calls me the Hoosier. I feel a wonderful freedom in her class being the only Conservative and having to argue my way through everything solo. But she’s reasonable even if she’s a feminist. . . . . Yeah, I’m as prejudiced as you, Left-wingers!
PE is pretty much the best. Except for Ameliano. I really hope he doesn’t spell his name that way. He’s a muscle head who resents the fact we have basically the same name. I don’t like him and he doesn’t like me. Works out fine, right? Kenni and I did leprechaun dancing and synchronized squats at cardio stations in time to Katy Perry this morning. It really gets the endorphins flowing. Try it sometime.
Unfortunately, there are people who can run faster than me in PE, a nasty surprise. In capture the flag, I had no hope of catching the Chilean boy. It made me sad. But the endorphins brightened up the rest of my day. Seriously, PE does not deserve the bad rap it gets.
The preppiness is refreshing. And I must not neglect to mention those Asians I was so excited about. I feel white here. I’ve made friends with another Korean newbie who plays the violin too. We are stand partners, but he is better than me. Maybe he can teach me Korean. Probs not. I’m horrible at languages.
At this point, I may as well mention my extremely ethnically diverse friend. Somehow she is white and yet Native American. She is Mr. A’s alter ego as an aspiring arsonist and heart surgeon. Besides this, she may actually be the Phantom of the Opera (somehow?). Her wildness is inspiring. She is “full of rage.” But despite that, rather amazing, not to boast.
There is a girl who seems smart. She read Persecution and the Art of Writing after I ranted about it in English and enjoyed it. Ergo, she is somewhat a kindred spirit. She could be a psychopath but whatever. I’m already hanging out with a bunch of them. I’ve met this dude. He is the son of a hippy. Seriously? Environmentally friendly shirts every day? Every day? And the communist, Bonnie. All you Indiana people would be amazed at her interest in cows and the farming life.
I have auditioned to be in Twelfth Night. I’m extremely apprehensive because I have a horrible, sinking feeling that I misinterpreted the director’s instructions to speak my Shakespearean monologue as if I were an angry seagull.
Abruptly, farewell, farewell.
pst- I forgot to tell you. The school gave all 10th graders iPads.
By the way, I apologize profusely for my terrifically terrible writing and asinine alliterative literary allusions. It’s late, and my brain makes weird things happen.