Today in cooking class we "cooked" microwave Mexican chip dip. This is simply too much for me; why must my entire educational career have to contain only subjects, classes, and people that incessantly point out how flawed the Utah educational system is? We have a minimum of electives we have to take so that we might become well-rounded people. Apparently nuking bastardized versions of food from other cultures is what molds American children into well-rounded, responsible adults.
Wow. America sucks.
Anyway, I nuke the insta-filler and pretend to scarf it while I sit, trying to devise a plan to discard the rubbish and save myself from developing a hatred for Mexican food. How can I save myself from these silly Americans? I'm feeling oh so patriotic today, in case you can’t tell.
So the class ends and I finally flee from the greasy purgatory foods class has become. I bump into Elise on the way to my locker, which makes my day. We were talking about this yesterday, how an intellectual begins to madly lust for intelligence if locked up in an imbecilic cage (high school) for too long. I've been so happy to see Elise lately; after my mother took a chainsaw to the extremity that had curiously joined our hips together during last year I haven't seen much of her. (That last statement is extremely funny and ironic to me because of reasons that remain unbeknownst to you, dear reader) She invited me to a play that I can't see and to a nice restaurant at which I can't dine. Why must I have a job, why?
Speaking of work, I have to do that today. At 5, or something. Actually, I have no idea, I'm just kind of guessing. In fact, I think I was supposed to work earlier this week but was too lazy to go into work and check. I might very well not have a job at this moment in time, thank heavens ignorance truly is bliss! At least I could go to the ballet Saturday, right?
So Amy, my best friend, made small-groups (part of the choir at my school). Many people yearn to be in this, um, prestigious group. It's supposed to be a lot of fun as long as you don't mind being with the chirpy drones of high school. I was going to try out until I decided to graduate early, which robs my audition of any purpose whatsoever. I could have made it; I know how to sing and enjoy the process. I guess that's just another art that these people have almost ruined for me. Luckily, I sing in the church choir, which is fun solely because of the fact that our director is a barmy old bat. I love it.
I have nothing else to write about; my day was, in retrospect, one of the most uneventful I’ve had in months. Wait! That’s not true. I read in preparation for my history exam- the very first time since the beginning of the year that I have dared to open the book. I think I did well, or better than I usually do (which isn’t too bad, surprisingly). I rushed home during 3rd because we had a sub in trig, and I studied! It doesn’t sound that impressive, but it actually is.
Well, now I have nothing to say. Other than the fact that I’m hungry and that stupid phone thing won’t stop ringing. Take that, Mr. Alexander Bell! I will not let your contraption of the devil ruin my life!
I leave you now to do some beautiful, therapeutic shopping.