homeschooling

So last time, I mentioned maybe being homeschooled next year. As this year goes on, the idea becomes more attractive by the day. I really don't enjoy school right now. I get up early every morning, and I want to stay home. I get to school and prepare myself for the horrors that lie ahead. Until recently, blue days were cherished and anticipated. Now, I hate Blue and White days equally. On Blue days, I have study hall, APUSH (which is my favorite class), English, and Psychology. Blue days were my favorite because I had classes with my friends and had a study hall in the morning and lunch was fun with my friends. But now that two of my best friends kind of hate each other and ditch me so they don't have to be in each others' presence, it kind of sucks. And if I were homeschooled next year, I wouldn't have to deal with that at all! White days are just bad, because I start out with Algebra 2, which I hate. I have absolutely no desire to learn anything that I'm being taught in that class. Then Biology, which can be interesting but usually isn't. And then that most hated of classes-French. French is worst because not only is my older brother (our relationship isn't the most positive) in that class, but I sit at the back and have nobody to talk to. Not to mention other things that I probably can't mention on a blog read solely by my English teacher. And then band, which used to be one of my favorite classes. But ever since we've gotten a new band director, things have really gone downhill. Blaaargh.

Space and the Earth and stuff

That powerpoint with all the pictures of the Earth from space was really cool. I love pictures of space and the Earth from space. I'd love to be able to actually go out into space and look at all that stuff, but I couldn't ever be an astronaut because I'm terrible at math and science and physics and everything. But it would be so cool to see our planet from that perspective. From up in space, it looks peaceful and green and blue and beautiful, but down on the ground it's all nasty and gray and brown a lot.
I think it would be cool just to go exploring in space, too. I really envy people back in the 1500's and 1600's, when they were starting to explore the rest of the world and there were still places that nobody had ever been before. They would go out on these trips to find out what was out there. Even if the trips were all for money and trade and stuff, they still got to see places and people that nobody from their world had seen before. But now, everything is settled and commercialized and there's not anything that's untouched, really. Except down really deep in the oceans, and all that's supposed to be down there is a bunch of chemicals and bacteria. But out in space, nobody's really been to all the places they can see with cameras and telescopes and whatnot.

Waiting and waiting and waiting

Sometimes, I'll be procrastinating on my French homework and I'll stumble across a funny blog. It seems to  always be some post-grad chick living it up in a city writing about her AWESOME life. I like reading because, well, it's what I want to be doing in a few years, but I'm so tired of waiting for it to happen; and by "it", I mean my life. There's nothing I can do to change my life now, because I'm 16 years old and a junior in high school. I'm always waiting--waiting to get the grade on my test back, waiting to hear back from the store I just applied to for a job, waiting for senior year to get here so I can go ahead and get the ball rolling for college. Waiting for everything. I'm not a very patient person--I'm used to being able to go get what I want if I want it then, instead of waiting for it to be given to me, but I can't do that with my life. I can't hurry time up and get the rest of junior year out of the way, even though I want to. I can't hurry up and get senior year out of the way--I have to go through it all. It's like driving: you can't turn early and get the turn over with while you're on the straight part of the road. You have to wait until you get there and then turn while you're there, passing through.

In a way, I can't understand why anyone would want to be young like this again, because it sucks to have no freedom and choices, but in a way, I can. Growing up is frightening--whether you're turning 18 or 45. It's always a new experience, and that's scary because it's unknown. So people say they wish they were younger, because that age is familiar and known. You remember what it was like to be that age, but you don't know what it's like to be older because you've never been as old as you are now. It's a new experience every second of every day, and the change is kind of unsettling.

I don't know what to blog about

For any of you new readers (if you actually exist, that is), when I make a title like the one above, I'm not being all pretentious and stuff. I have to post blogs (and I like to, Mrs. Matthews!) for my English class, and sometimes I either don't like the prompt or I just can't identify. Or something. So when I do that, I'm not just blogging to blog. Well, actually, I am. I kind of have to (NOT THAT I DON'T LIKE IT 'COS I DO) but sometimes when I don't feel like I have anything relevant or meaningful to add to the growing dump of blog-text that exists in cyberspace, I have to post anyway. SO YEAH.
I CAN'T WAIT FOR HARRY POTTER 7 NEXT FRIDAY JUST SAYING

RUMBLEROOOOOOOAAAR

HEY LEGS, how about you work?

So, yeah, left leg. It'd be really cool if you weren't all achy and painful right now. Especially considering that I did nothing to provoke this kind of body-part-attack. I didn't make you run or go up and down the stairs 4687326 times or do anything out of the ordinary, and this is how I get rewarded? Thanks a lot.

I really wish I was a funny blogger. I've stumbled on so many hilarious blogs and the writers all seem to be socially awkward college students. So maybe, in a couple of years, I'll be a comedy gold-mine. I doubt it, though.
I do know I'll have the socially awkward part down pat, though. Around my friends I'm all "WHAAZZAAP PEEOPLE! LYKE ZOMG" super hyper and extrovert-y and then when I get into proper, polite conversation I become mute and turn into a fake-smiling, nervous little mouse who mumbles and hates everything.

IN OTHER NEWS, please enjoy this picture of a bathtub with portholes.
SO CUTE.

GONE WITH THE WIND

So I found (well, not found, more like realized it was on my bookshelf) my copy of Gone With The Wind last weekend. And I started reading it again. I had forgotten how much I love it until now, and I'm really glad I picked it back up. I've read it 3 or 4 times now total, and watched the movie 9832749873298 times (exaggeration, by the way). Something about Scarlett O'Hara and all her shenanigans is just magical to me--how she's so manipulative and strong, but still manages to be charming and sweet (well, when she needs or wants to be). And I love Margaret Mitchell's writing style. She describes EVERYTHING without being all over-wordy and too flowery like Nathaniel Hawthorne and Charles Dickens. I really wish we could do something about it in class. But that will probably never happen, because it's so "racist". I mean, yeah, it is racist in today's setting, but this book is about the Deep South right before and after the Civil War. Of course it's racist, because that's how they lived. They didn't apologize for the way they lived, and they didn't do it out of contempt or be nasty about it. At least, that's how I see it. I'm not promoting slavery or anything like that, of course it was horrible. But they didn't think so and I think it's wonderfully refreshing to see it from a different perspective. 

Halloween story

Lucille was very proud of the costume her mother made her for Halloween--it was a pink princess hat with a pink veil, a glittery pink princess dress, and a pair of pink gloves. The only thing wrong was that Lucille's mother had refused to get her the perfect pair of glittery pink ballerina slippers Lucille saw at the department store. Even though Lucille had thrown her best tantrum and wheedled and pleaded to her mother for days, her mother refused to buy the darling shoes, calling them "impractical". Lucille didn't know what impractical meant, but if it kept her from having those slippers then it must be a very bad thing.

Scary Movies

I cannot stand scary movies. I have absolutely no stomach for them. I've seen Psycho, and it was pretty scary. As in, I couldn't shower for a few days after I saw it. My friend Hillary took me to see A Haunting In Connecticut , but I couldn't stay. I left, like, 25 minutes into the movie. I always think I can watch them, when I'm not scared but then I chicken out.