My Physics’ teacher’s classroom, 9:30ish am, Friday morning. Usually a scene of utter pain and confusion on my part. Today, however, we had a cover, and everyone talked rather a lot. So much, in fact, Ruby felt comfortable waving a sheet at me from her bench.
“You can tell an English person drew this, can’t you?”
It just goes to show; even before the tectonic plates shifted, we wanted to get as far away from the French as possible.
Also, my dinner:
I forgot to ask for ‘small’ as in, ‘small for someone who isn’t obese’ when ordering.
I try really hard not to go all emoshit artistitis on here, but I’m afraid I need to take a moment to gather my thoughts.
Firstly, raise your hand if you feel inferior to someone once a day, or maybe once every couple of days. Me too. It’s hard to deal with, especially if the person/people you feel inferior to are the ones you go to school or work with. It’s much, much more tough when the person is one of your closest friends.
Take, for example, where I sit in Physics. Front of classroom, nearish the door so I can escape as quickly as possible and use the fresh air to stay awake when the Bunsens are on. I really wish I were somewhere else, because on one side I’ve got someone who is a genius and knows it, and never seems to have any trouble understanding Ohm’s Law. On the other I have someone who doodles a lot and forgets homework more than I forget to feed Fred. Both are A* students easily. I have spent the last year poking myself to stay awake in the most boring enviroment in SHSG, scowling over my homework and actually attempting to make my handwriting legible. I’m pretty pleased to say that most of the time I succeed. One of my earliest memories is of my dad showing my brother and I how a filament lightbulb works… Electrical stuff is hardwired into my brain, most of my family is can put together and design circuit boards and rewire bathrooms.
Technically, I ought to be good at Physics. I actually am if I concentrate, but no matter how hard I work, I’ll always be worse than everyone else and think I’m crap because that’s just the way it goes. I’ve asked myself more times than I care to count why I’m still in a grammar school, and the only explanation I can come up with is that I am good excellent at English. No one is going to make me feel bad so long as I am wielding a Pilot V7 Hi-Techpoint, let me tell you.
I don’t know what I’m getting at here (I’ve only been up a couple of hours and breakfast was a strawberry jam/peanut butter/chocolate spread sandwich), but I’ve been thinking about this for a while I guess that this week’s epiphany/Life Lesson is that life sucks eighty-five per cent of the time and all you can do is work bloody hard, sleeping easy with the knowledge you actually wrote the homework down and ‘exercised your brain’ while doing it, even if the end result was a bit dodgy.
Happy First of June. Oh, and I wasn’t kidding about that writing challenge. My half term projects are to finish Watchmen (Rorschach isn’t Rorschach without the costume) and put together a model four-stroke internal combustion engine without setting myself on fire. Also, I know a lot of people have subscribed to this blog. You need to go on your email and confirm it or I don’t think it works… And that would be sad.
I made some friends for the Black Sheep of the Kleenex Box.
I don’t know how well the pictures show up, but there’s another black sheep so they can mate and infest the world with mouton noirs, a spotty one with a weight/fluff problem, a stripy dude and a punk rock guy. They’re awesome.
Also, while I’m thinking about it, please comment and tell me what you think of earlier’s emoshit rant. Did I sound like someone who dies their hair black for attention?!