dripping yellow madness

my english comp teacher is one of those Cool Teachers.

you must know what i mean; if you haven't been in school recently, i'm sure you've experienced something similar anyway. you expect an old lady in a pant suit with a type-written syllabus to walk through the door, and instead, it is an arty twenty-something with an angular, high-lighted hair cut, bell bottom jeans, multiple earrings and a crisp plum oxford shirt. the first thing she says when she walks through the door, a few minutes late, is: let's rearrange the furniture, hmm?

she is not the first teacher i have had like this. i meet these people all the time. in high school, my tenth grade english teacher wore flip-flops to class, rolled her eyes constantly, stuck out her tongue and said 'freaking wicked' a lot. she knew all our culture references, saw all the teenage movies, knew all about brad and jen (more than me, anyway) and whatever. my guitar teacher, too, who i expected to teach me scales and musical theory and maybe some classical picking, turned out to be a bleached-blonde rocker chick who preferred to be called binky.

and so when my comp teacher walked through the door, my heart sank.

because the aforementioned teachers were both crazy.

who knows. maybe the comp teacher will be the one who pulls it off. maybe she will be the one who will actually BE fun and friendly, instead of just PRETENDING to be fun and friendly. she says she loves science fiction and she's written a short story, and i talked to her after class and she says she'll give me feedback on my work. maybe she will really be a friend.

but i don't have too much hope, because 'fun, hip' teachers have always taken a violent dislike to me. literally. my tenth grade teacher used to chuck markers at me. i think i come off as pretentious and haughty to them, because i simply am not cool. i don't speak the cool language. my father may think i am a teenage wasteland because i consciously refuse to capitolize on my blog, but in real life, i am as hopeless when it comes to slang and celebrity culture as any middle-aged political science teacher. furthermore, i take things, especially english, way too seriously. i LIKE books. but this makes teachers suspicious, and they think i am brown-nosing (i am?) and consequently they loathe me.

G-d this is fun.

so anyway, that's the update from the battlefield. my internet's still broken, and shows no signs of ever getting fixed. i am learning to adapt...i just spend in between class time in the computer lab. i'm gonna get supper and then i've got a creative writing class.

holla at ya later.