Basic Day

My day starts out with my alarm going off and waking me out of some sort of nightmare or another. Strange, that... I didn't ever have nightmares until a few months ago. But even now I often persevere through the hardships my dreams present. Last night, for example, my mom and I had to hitch a ride from some dirty old man who was hitting on me. Then he took us to his house and kept us prisoner for a while, which wasn't fun. But at the end of the dream, when my alarm clock went off, I had him locked in a room and was ready to make an escape as soon as I had grabbed as much of his stuff as I could carry.

Anyhow, I wake up feeling like I was hit by a truck because I stayed up late doing homework if I had a lot or emailing Liisa if I didn't. I get dressed, look beautiful, walk Tidbit to the corner and back, eat a bit of breakfast, and then drive to school listening to Rush Hour Italian!

The school day is lovely for a while, starting with AP Art History. It's an Honours class, and so not exactly a blow off, but it's easy, too. And it makes me excited that I already know the Spanish stuff, and that I've seen most of the Latin and part of the Greek pieces in real life! Actually, having been to the Louvre, Musee D'Orsay, the Van Gogh Museum, Museo Nazionali (Napoli), and the Acropolis Museum, I've seen a fair amount of all of it.

After Art History I go to German, lovely little class which is in the Transition Mode of a year 3 language. Ah, I remember those times from Spanish, although I must say I was better with Spanish then than I am with German now. The class is mostly Sophomores, a bit immature, but that suites me fine - it makes things easy.

And after that I go to limbo - well, currently, that's Student Aiding for Sra. Altadonna, but as soon as we finish the paperwork it will be NORWEGIAN! What joy...

Then I go to Spanish class, which is a blast, though it's starting to think about challenging. We have discussions and debates and are actually trying to hammer out the mistakes that have haunted us all along. Kiser is merciful about mistakes, and you feel comfortable spreading your wings in her classroom, even if it means you occasionally call a hammer a suitcase. Lucia's in this class too, which makes it fun!

Then right when I'm thinking that this can't possibly be school - it's too much fun - I go to Lunch. A crazy, chaotic, noisy cafeteria that pulls me right back to reality, although I can be with friends. :D This year lunch is, strangely, almost the same cast as last year. Rachel, Gwen, some guy that belongs to gwen, Wendy, Lisa, and so forth - Luckily all those who take a level 5 in languages (except Spanish) have first lunch by default, so that's a lot of my friends. Kate and Stephanie, for example, are outside in the courtyard. Christy is still in Chazen's room, but our Lunch Bunch is disbanded and she's almost alone.

LATIN. Gah, what is to be said about Latin? It's a language that I once loved, and still find bits of enjoyment in. But it's too late to be a class... What can I say? If it had been a class from the beginning it would have been one thing. I would have learned well and never felt inferior and perhaps not have taken German. Who knows? But as it is... well, the days of the easy H are no gone, and we weep for McAllister. I feel like I'm starting to get things, and in the long run, if I do, I'll be grateful for the swap, but it's awfully hard and hurts me.

After Latin is the double whammy of Math and English, real classes. I like both my teachers, but not their classes. Dean teaches Calculus. She's a good math teacher - I understand when she teaches. But I feel I'm behind on the underlying concepts, and Calculus is still hard, and anyway no one can say Mrs. Dean is FUN, exactly. My goal in there is to survive. English, on the other hand, is intimidating.

Mrs. Smith is smarter than I am. A lot smarter. And I'm not used to that. Okay, I'm a bit of a snob, but hear me out. I'm quite used to beating a lot of people without trying, although I don't take any pleasure from that. More pleasing is the smaller group that are near my level, who I can beat with a little, or a lot, of effort. And then there are the people who I enjoy the most, whose IQ's are either matched with mine or quite different, so that in competing we bring each other to new levels, or so that there is no need to compete, only to admire.

But Mrs. Smith is none of these. She is smarter, a lot smarter - formidable, frightening... But nice, never forget that, and she has a sense of humour that you like to appeal to even when you feel that she is mocking you and are embarrassed... She's been teaching us Latin a bit, and that's bad enough. But English is completely her domain. If only the woman would let us speak! You get halfway through a comment and she's challenging you already! I love the challenge but sometimes she takes it too far, in such a strange direction... perhaps in more limited doses it would be more effective. We'll see, we'll see!

But although part of me enjoys the dialog, a part of me is scared to death that a grade depends on such things! I could never get a degree in English, much as I casually adore it.

Done with English, out to the car, home, play with Tidbit, talk with mom. I've got a new technique for that, by the way. I grab something to eat and let her bitch and complain about what a burden Melissa and I are. Every time I want to make a retort that's really deserved but will only exacerbate the situation, I take a bit bite instead.

"Wow, Miranda, you really are going at those Rice Cakes!"

No Shit.

But Later...

"Thanks for listening."

See, she doesn't really mean that she hates me and I cause her so much pain and that she wishes she'd never have children and why can't I just sit in the corner and grow up! Well, she does sometimes. But not always or really.

Then work. Library or Lydia. Or, if I'm lucky and it's a Wednesday, Japanese lessons! These are great - I got a book and so we're actually learning something this time! I'm finally getting the syllabaries down and some of the vocab, although Hirayoshi-san tires of the repetition at times. She's neither a language teacher nor a linguist, she doesn't understand... Oh well, I study it more at home, then.

Then I come home and shower and study into the night... And then go to the nightmares.