It was alright but I’m not saying I want to go back.

August 24, 2009

Okay, so the first day back at school wasn’t so bad. It was better than I expected it to be, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be different tomorrow or that I’ve stopped hating it. Honestly, the only thing I’m really worried about is PE, opening my locker, and getting to class on time.

English is my favorite subject. I love to write and read new and interesting things. My only problem? I am stuck with a shitty teacher. She is old, mean and moody. During the whole class we just sat in her room listening to her lecture us about what we can and can’t do. At one point she said, “I’m not gonna treat you like you’re dumb. I’m not going to come over to you and comfort you and say, ‘Oh, it’s okay little retard.'” I guess all I can do is hope for a better English teacher in high school.

Thankfully, I knew a group of people from my old school or people I had met at summer school. Even though I don’t want to call all of them friends, it is nice to see someone I at least remembered. I got a little turned around walking through the hallways but I managed to find my way around. I’ve got to admit, I was a little late to some of my classes due to a crappy combination lock.

I hope tomorrow is better and a get the swing of things. At least after the first week you would think. Today was really just and orientation; and I was handed a many “syllabus”. There wasn’t any homework other than to take home all my papers and get my parents to read over them and sign them. Actually, I do have to write a paragraph about how Project Lead The Way got its start, but that barely counts. — The only class I’m really worried about is PE. I usually do the exercises required but that doesn’t mean I like them. I’m just afraid of looking utterly stupid. That would be a bad feeling. I’m not too keen on embarrassment.

Surprisingly, I think my favorite teacher so far is the Science teacher. Holy guacamole, she is a bundle of energy! I guess that’s it. I hope tomorrow I can shake of the early morning jitters faster. (Did I mention I have to wake up at 6:00 AM and get to school by 7:00? Well, if I didn’t now you know!)


You’re Gonna Go Far Kid

February 16, 2009

I was thinking. If I was offered the opportunity to be a journalist for a music magazine (possibly Alternative Press or Rolling Stone) or to be a guitarist in an amazing band. Which would I choose? I had wanted to play guitar since I was nine years old. Practicing my air guitar in the privacy of my own room, completely spazing. Or pouring my guts out with ink and paper in hopes of becoming an utterly brilliant writer.

Being in a band would be quite interesting. I’d enjoy the fun questionnaires you get in interviews and your “humble” opinion on things. Looking super fierce in when you play live so you can intimidate people. Or to be some coffee drinking freak, blinded from the sun, glued to your computer, writing obsesser. Wearing T-shirts and tight jeans, strutting around like you know what you’re doing. Reader, does that thought ever cross your mind? I wonder where life will take me quite often. Who will I end up being in the next couple of years (I’m hoping I’ll stay true to who I am now.)?

Reader, let’s be honest. Would either of those jobs fully satisfy me? I seem to be quite an undecided person. I purchase an item at a store. “I love it! I’m so happy I bought it!” The next twenty minutes. “What the heck did I just waste my money on?! I could have bought ‘such and such’.” Yep, that is me. Being on the road with a band would be fun for a while. Awake at all hours, doing what you love, traveling, and playing shows. My only problem? I get motion sickness. I’d practically be bulimic. Then the shows would get tiring, performing the same songs until you write a new one. I suppose I shouldn’t think so negatively, maybe I’d be able to make a big impact on a lot of kids. Then there is writing. After a while, what is there to talk about? You are usually seen with a pen in your hand or your eyes are burning from staring at a computer screen for so many hours.

I guess I can be quite the “party pooper”, but that’s just me my friend. You either do or don’t like me, I don’t care too much. Either one I’d love. Writing would be easier to handle, though I’d miss the comfort of my guitar, Bella, too much. The excitement of playing a gig and going crazy on stage sounds and looks intruiging. Who knows where the world might take me….