Good Day Gone Bad (That Kinda Got Better)
Jan. 18th, 2002 10:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
azuriteI wasn't going to write anything today-- at least, not after my day got better. If you've ever read any of my previous entries, you might have noticed that I usually only write when I get depressed or seriously angry and NEED to vent. Then again, I write a lot, so what does that tell you? ^.~
Suffice it to say, my day started out just short of okay. I cleaned chalkboards for a teacher who I detest. My grades haven't improved much since the second quarter of first semester, when I had a 2.29 GPA, due to a smattering of Ds on my report card. I was disappointed. Even for the self-named "slacker" and manic-depressive stick girl, 3 Ds is not something to be happy about. I make it a point to at least GO to school, TRY to understand things, and PARTICIPATE in class. There are plenty of people who think I'm a goody-goody just for that; others say I could be worse. Both are right, on some level, I suppose.
My day got much better when I went to my 6th period-- it turned out I had the highest grade in my class for the final exam in Japanese-- a 97! I was ecstatic. 1st had been a bust, with a D (which my teacher said she *might* bump up to a C-- if she felt like it), 2nd there was barely anyone there, and my substitute (which we've had for three weeks now, since my real teacher had a baby and then got deported O.o;) says she doesn't know the grades, but she did explain the stuff I didn't know, 3rd got me a D on the final I seriously tried on, and 4th got me a D with a glimmer of hope for being bumped up to a C. Lunch, which normally cheers me up, only furthered to depress me, as I spent it in the Journalism lab. I always feel lately in there that I'm the only one who tries, and when I cut anyone some slack, I'm the slave-driver. I just don't understand people these days.
I go home, clean my room for a few hours, and decide to make dinner. But there's no Miracle Whip (good stuff!) for my artichoke (yummm!) so I ask mom if I can go to the market. Now, I normally hate going out late for several reasons: 1) I have to cross a major thoroughfare where people drive like students tag-- every which way-- and 2) it's late, dark, and cold-- need I say more? Lately I've been pretty okay with it, knowing enough to keep myself standing. But I get to the supermarket some eight blocks away, and in the condiments aisle, I discover my wallet is missing! @!#$%^$^%$#%# !!! Angry at first, terrified the next, and crying the rest of my way, I backtracked home-- with no luck. Go home, tell mom because I have a god damned conscience (and by the way, despite my fervent tearfilled prayers, "He" didn't help me one bit-- so I might convert to the point where there are no male schmoes up in the clouds getting my attention), repeat. Still no luck.
Eat artichoke with acidy-butter-lemon sauce, feel depressed. Watch Jeopardy, where all the answers are prattled off like shotgun bullets. Here's the kicker-- the contestants of tonight were a security manager who looked like a Marine, an old guy with a horrible receding hairline and a cross between a Santa/Punch 'Em Out guy, and a shy schoolteacher. The schoolteacher, who was the only woman, barely answered more than twice each round. The security manager was the returning champion, smart and confident, but he ended up getting in a battle of the brains with Mr. Receding Hair once the latter got over his embarrassment from several wrong answers. Then comes the final round, and the question is about the elements: this element, a metal, the first known to be *discovered* in 1669, set England aglow with excitement. Marine-dude answers Calcium (I think)... whatever he did answer, it was wrong. Next-in-line, the recede-y dude, answers Neon-- sorry, not a metal, it's a noble gas (even *I* know that). The schoolteacher answers Sodium (she looked unsure...). They were all wrong, it turned out, but both of the guys, who were so full of themselves with all their answers and three times the money (and then some) of the poor young lady, bet all they had, reducing themselves to under $1000 apiece. The $3400 the teacher had saved up over the rounds was the lead! I had wanted her to win, just because... it felt like I was rooting for the underdog, but it was the *good* underdog. And she won! And for some reason, I'm just a little bit happier. Maybe I won't get my wallet back, and I'll have to deal with the hassle of buying a new one, replacing my ATM card, and bugging my friend for a new senior portrait, but at least I have this one day of short-lived hope. It's a nice feeling, really.
Suffice it to say, my day started out just short of okay. I cleaned chalkboards for a teacher who I detest. My grades haven't improved much since the second quarter of first semester, when I had a 2.29 GPA, due to a smattering of Ds on my report card. I was disappointed. Even for the self-named "slacker" and manic-depressive stick girl, 3 Ds is not something to be happy about. I make it a point to at least GO to school, TRY to understand things, and PARTICIPATE in class. There are plenty of people who think I'm a goody-goody just for that; others say I could be worse. Both are right, on some level, I suppose.
My day got much better when I went to my 6th period-- it turned out I had the highest grade in my class for the final exam in Japanese-- a 97! I was ecstatic. 1st had been a bust, with a D (which my teacher said she *might* bump up to a C-- if she felt like it), 2nd there was barely anyone there, and my substitute (which we've had for three weeks now, since my real teacher had a baby and then got deported O.o;) says she doesn't know the grades, but she did explain the stuff I didn't know, 3rd got me a D on the final I seriously tried on, and 4th got me a D with a glimmer of hope for being bumped up to a C. Lunch, which normally cheers me up, only furthered to depress me, as I spent it in the Journalism lab. I always feel lately in there that I'm the only one who tries, and when I cut anyone some slack, I'm the slave-driver. I just don't understand people these days.
I go home, clean my room for a few hours, and decide to make dinner. But there's no Miracle Whip (good stuff!) for my artichoke (yummm!) so I ask mom if I can go to the market. Now, I normally hate going out late for several reasons: 1) I have to cross a major thoroughfare where people drive like students tag-- every which way-- and 2) it's late, dark, and cold-- need I say more? Lately I've been pretty okay with it, knowing enough to keep myself standing. But I get to the supermarket some eight blocks away, and in the condiments aisle, I discover my wallet is missing! @!#$%^$^%$#%# !!! Angry at first, terrified the next, and crying the rest of my way, I backtracked home-- with no luck. Go home, tell mom because I have a god damned conscience (and by the way, despite my fervent tearfilled prayers, "He" didn't help me one bit-- so I might convert to the point where there are no male schmoes up in the clouds getting my attention), repeat. Still no luck.
Eat artichoke with acidy-butter-lemon sauce, feel depressed. Watch Jeopardy, where all the answers are prattled off like shotgun bullets. Here's the kicker-- the contestants of tonight were a security manager who looked like a Marine, an old guy with a horrible receding hairline and a cross between a Santa/Punch 'Em Out guy, and a shy schoolteacher. The schoolteacher, who was the only woman, barely answered more than twice each round. The security manager was the returning champion, smart and confident, but he ended up getting in a battle of the brains with Mr. Receding Hair once the latter got over his embarrassment from several wrong answers. Then comes the final round, and the question is about the elements: this element, a metal, the first known to be *discovered* in 1669, set England aglow with excitement. Marine-dude answers Calcium (I think)... whatever he did answer, it was wrong. Next-in-line, the recede-y dude, answers Neon-- sorry, not a metal, it's a noble gas (even *I* know that). The schoolteacher answers Sodium (she looked unsure...). They were all wrong, it turned out, but both of the guys, who were so full of themselves with all their answers and three times the money (and then some) of the poor young lady, bet all they had, reducing themselves to under $1000 apiece. The $3400 the teacher had saved up over the rounds was the lead! I had wanted her to win, just because... it felt like I was rooting for the underdog, but it was the *good* underdog. And she won! And for some reason, I'm just a little bit happier. Maybe I won't get my wallet back, and I'll have to deal with the hassle of buying a new one, replacing my ATM card, and bugging my friend for a new senior portrait, but at least I have this one day of short-lived hope. It's a nice feeling, really.
