Shouting the Poetic Truths of High School Journal Keepers

Thursday, February 24, 2005

February 24, 1995

I'm on a lucky streak this week -- I'm Mr Lucky all of a sudden (lucky me, lucky you for knowing me and hoping my luck will rub off on you). Cite the following examples: three straight 100%s in MATH, of all things ( where I got about three A's all year in Hon Adv Algebra -- maybe B3rnie Kill was just out to get me), including a chapter test. I feel like I'm in seventh grade doing 3x+2=7 or finding the area of a rectangle with dimensions given to you in that I'd be getting 100%s in those days. Not that what we're doing now is particularly easy... I'm setting the curves. And then in history -- well, what do you know? Another 100% -- on my paper about the Repub. party after 1877 -- which I really wasn't expecting -- and then a 99% on this latest test, the hardest one all year. And everyone hates me for it... I must have heard three people call me "Mister 99%" Well, in a class with 88% of the people getting C's below on that exam, they have every right to be mad. I would be. Definitely. I'd raise a commotion. And I honsetly did think the test was mighty difficult. Things turn out this way. Mr Buss asked me to be on the JETS team today, a prestigious academic competition group. My only obstacle now is getting this approved with Karen B Kru3ger, for the IHSA Music Contest is on the same day. I'm getting sick of choir. It just seems like I'm having no fun with it. Hmmm.. That almost looked like Adam Gri3ve's handwriting. Anyway, that's my lucky streak. I hope that one day it won't just end & I'll plummet into a pit of mediocrity. Stacie said I was all smart. Oh -- lest I forget -- I also have the highest grade in chemistry. Well, enough gloating & ego-boosting for the time being. I'm not about to get up & imply how good & dedicated I am, like some choir presidents would -- I refer, of course, to Ronnie Fals0n (our "friend/bitch" Mindy Oft3dahl, screeching absentee, graduated already -- whatever...) who was "mulling over choir all night like I always do" -- and as she said this, Karen is hanging all over her in admiration. It's been rough for Karen, I bet -- I wonder what Ken S0rrick thought of her Sunday school teaching the other day ("Then God got very angry & sent down a drought to the people," as she pulled out her big Bible) -- he was just sitting there. And then the male members of Madrigals (alliteration!) don't like the song "Scarborough Fair" and she takes it personally. Maybe because her son Charlie is out screwing some girl in the back of her car & she's upset. I always think I see that kid in school, but he goes to RHS. Collin, go join him, you little Spartan wanna-be. You and your grunt-laugh & overeagerness toward choir (it's disproportionate to his talent). So then for Karen to have me approach her & say -- "whoops -- can't sing for you Saturday" -- it might be a little too much for her. Especially if she's only getting three hours of sleep a night & thinking she's immune to anything (after the Charlie incident). That's not to be confused w/ Chuck Thyn3 -- you know, Snoopy's brother. Snoopy -- that's just so perfect -- thank you, Stacie. Melissa just sounds wrong. Or Pelican Girl. --JMC 7:04 PM


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