![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tabular_rasaI am a notebook martyr.
It's branded on my hand, too, in purple Goshen College pen, thanks to Liz ^_^
There was an issue today in Creative Writing, you see. Now, I've had this thing about ripping papers out of notebooks for some time now. I never do it.
Now, my journal for Creative Writing is a beautiful purple composition notebook, bought specifically for the purpose. There are three things very wrong with tearing pages out of it.
1) Composition notebooks are sewn, not spiral or tear-friendly, so one ruins the notebook by tearing things out of it.
2) It is beautiful and purple and full of my writing and I do not want to desecrate it.
3) I don't rip papers out of notebooks. It's an OCD-type thingy dealio. Joey understood it; thank you, Joey.
Now, Mrs. Hook didn't really TELL us that the assignment she gave us was NOT a journal entry. She told us to journal and handed out that; I though the two were one and the same. So, I wrote the assignment in my journal.
So I explained what happened, and handed in my journal. Now, Mrs. Hook had a big problem with carrying around a-- what, 6-oz?-- composition notebook. She insisted I rip the pages out. I told her I'm OCD and I can't do that, and it would ruin the notebook. So then she was going to rip them out--
AND I DASHED UP THERE AND SNATCHED THE NOTEBOOK FROM THE JAWS OF DEATH AND HUGGED IT TO ME AND DID NOT LET HER RIP THOSE PAGES OUT!!!
So I just took them home and photocopied them. I probably will get marked down for that, or something, but this was a battle worth winning.
*Goes over and strokes beautiful purple composition notebook.*
So, that caused a scene in Creative Writing. If Mrs. Hook ever liked me, she doesn't like me anymore. Liz thinks I'm an idiot (well . . . Liz already did). So do the slow kids who though they were being clever writing an "Asian myth" for their short story, or the thrilling epic adventure of an Amish man out to save his cow. Sheesh. I'm really saddened by this, guys . . .
So then there were try-outs after school. Kristina insulted me again. Last year, I said I knew I sucked at dancing, and she's like, "Oh, well, you dance better than you sing." This year, she changes her story, but it doesn't help. I now know I suck at singing, and so I'm like, "I dance better than I sing, don't I?" and it's, "Oh, no, I think you're better at singing than dancing."
I just can't win.
Lol, Kristina, I love you.
Well, actually, I was pretty loud, perhaps the loudest of my group in vocal tryouts. I will wow them with my showiness and volume to make up for my lack of talent.
Readings were fine; they always are-- I think. Of course, I go to read Minnie Fay, and apparently I sounded too much like Fairy May (okay, histrionic, hyper, somewhat ditzy chick; what can I say?) and the following pursued:
Mr. Ong: Amy, we know you can do this character already. Try something different.
Amy: Ohh . . .
Mr. Ong: You sound too much like Fairy May.
Andrew: Fairy May is dead!!!
Amy: NO!!!
Mr. Ong: This isn't Fairy May, this is F- Mi-- Minnie M- Fay--
Amy: My point exactly.
So I went on with a more watered-down version, lol ^_^
It's branded on my hand, too, in purple Goshen College pen, thanks to Liz ^_^
There was an issue today in Creative Writing, you see. Now, I've had this thing about ripping papers out of notebooks for some time now. I never do it.
Now, my journal for Creative Writing is a beautiful purple composition notebook, bought specifically for the purpose. There are three things very wrong with tearing pages out of it.
1) Composition notebooks are sewn, not spiral or tear-friendly, so one ruins the notebook by tearing things out of it.
2) It is beautiful and purple and full of my writing and I do not want to desecrate it.
3) I don't rip papers out of notebooks. It's an OCD-type thingy dealio. Joey understood it; thank you, Joey.
Now, Mrs. Hook didn't really TELL us that the assignment she gave us was NOT a journal entry. She told us to journal and handed out that; I though the two were one and the same. So, I wrote the assignment in my journal.
So I explained what happened, and handed in my journal. Now, Mrs. Hook had a big problem with carrying around a-- what, 6-oz?-- composition notebook. She insisted I rip the pages out. I told her I'm OCD and I can't do that, and it would ruin the notebook. So then she was going to rip them out--
AND I DASHED UP THERE AND SNATCHED THE NOTEBOOK FROM THE JAWS OF DEATH AND HUGGED IT TO ME AND DID NOT LET HER RIP THOSE PAGES OUT!!!
So I just took them home and photocopied them. I probably will get marked down for that, or something, but this was a battle worth winning.
*Goes over and strokes beautiful purple composition notebook.*
So, that caused a scene in Creative Writing. If Mrs. Hook ever liked me, she doesn't like me anymore. Liz thinks I'm an idiot (well . . . Liz already did). So do the slow kids who though they were being clever writing an "Asian myth" for their short story, or the thrilling epic adventure of an Amish man out to save his cow. Sheesh. I'm really saddened by this, guys . . .
So then there were try-outs after school. Kristina insulted me again. Last year, I said I knew I sucked at dancing, and she's like, "Oh, well, you dance better than you sing." This year, she changes her story, but it doesn't help. I now know I suck at singing, and so I'm like, "I dance better than I sing, don't I?" and it's, "Oh, no, I think you're better at singing than dancing."
I just can't win.
Lol, Kristina, I love you.
Well, actually, I was pretty loud, perhaps the loudest of my group in vocal tryouts. I will wow them with my showiness and volume to make up for my lack of talent.
Readings were fine; they always are-- I think. Of course, I go to read Minnie Fay, and apparently I sounded too much like Fairy May (okay, histrionic, hyper, somewhat ditzy chick; what can I say?) and the following pursued:
Mr. Ong: Amy, we know you can do this character already. Try something different.
Amy: Ohh . . .
Mr. Ong: You sound too much like Fairy May.
Andrew: Fairy May is dead!!!
Amy: NO!!!
Mr. Ong: This isn't Fairy May, this is F- Mi-- Minnie M- Fay--
Amy: My point exactly.
So I went on with a more watered-down version, lol ^_^
