Happier Note

Let me start the journal on a happier note, even if I might not end it that way. Right now, as I slap ink on paper, I'm severely irked more than I probably should be, since I strike out at people even when I'm in a good mood. Just ask my friends.

Ya know, it'll be hard to start something on a good note if I'm in emotional turmoil (hyperbole--maybe, but methinks I doubt it). So . . . I'll just start with the bug in my back and hope I calm down.

Random words: It's just words.

Right, Mattner, my problem. I dunno if I've writeen it before in this journal, but I'm failing English. Actually, I have written it before, I remember now. It really hurts, though, that fail. So, lately, even though she's such a terribel teacher, I've been talking to her for the past week or two to get my grade raised. I spent, as I wrote the last journal, all weekend on fourty stupid notecards on a subject I could hardly care less about, without hardly any time to do what I want to do! My mom even grounded me from the library (I'll talk about that later--ich habe eine Anung).

So anyway, I've got to lead this to somewhere. I talked to her today, worming information from her like one pulls teeth. I don't think she truly cares about the students. I had to ask her question after question and she answered them, methinks, as if my biggest problem was just a petty twitch in her gradebook. Her mind was completely somewhere else.

One of the questions I asked was if I finished my essay, would I stop failing the class? Her answer was something along the lines of, "I don't know, you'd have to turn it in and find out." So I could finish this fricking project and it'll be in vain. I normally try not to do things in vain. Another question I asked was if I have the will to finish this project anymore (I didn't say that), I needed to know my absolute due date. Monday. I have less than seven days to finish this. I know that's mostly my fault, but I'm going to be under severe pressure and . . . my poor friends are going to suffer if I'm around.

I need the box.

On a semi-bright note, my English grade has been rising by a percent or two every day. I just don't know if it's enough. I know I need to pass this exam with an A+.

But now I feel a little better. I either actually have let off some steam or I've bottled it up. I can't tell anymore. Ich habe genug.

Now for the happier note that I was supposed to write in the beginning, but instead I ranted along to regain control over myself.

Before that, ich habe eine neue Anung! *gasp* I was talking to Alyssa in the hallways about my journals (it's always about me--I feel so self-centered) and I remember her saying from before that I should turn my journals into a story. I don't think I'll use my exact life experiences, but I should change it up a bit and have a "Dear Diary" format . . . soon, before my journals actually sound sane. I just gotta finish ZT, Siset and Ninja Woods still. . . .

Now the happy note that I don't find all that happy, but our school finds happy. Happy! Maybe if I say 'happy' enough, I'll feel happy. Er. I need happy. Ha! Happy.

At least reading that over made me laugh . . .

On topic again. I just gotta make sure I'm paying attention to Mr. Snider. Algebra's fun.

So movie peoples thought that DHS would be a good place to shoot a movie. I, personally, couldn't care less 'bout the movie. I'm just getting my information from friends and simple observation.

Now I gotta jot notes. *puts away notebook and pays attention to class*

Anyway, I got that it was called Trust, and that a few of my friends are extras. *shrugs* I'll definitely have to watch this movie, that's all.

Welp, I guess that's about it. My life'll suck for the next two weeks, but oh well. "Happiness is a choice" and I choose happiness.

EDIT: I said that I'd write about my library banning or whatever, and I totally forgot about it earlier. Well, last night I remember a dream quite clearly, and my mom actually brought me to the library. I think it was located like right where that gas station is next to Jets and whatnot, but it was a library. There were small shelves, about up to my chest in rows of two with an isle between them, but in the back there were huge shelves, really deep, that came all the way up to the ceiling. I remember there were like eight X-Men comic book books, and I had them all in my arms, like ravenous. It was a weird dream, but that pretty much sums up my desires right now: library, X-Men. *shakes head* I won't even try to explain my second one, but I wish I knew the layout to that spooky house. I said too much.

I've had other library dreams, too. The library changes every dream, though. Another one was just looking though all the shelves, finding a new Warriors book, but it was large print, so I had to find the regular print copy. See? I want to go to the library! I'm having dreams of it! But it's never the Dexter library. . . .

SONG OF THE DAY: Seperate Ways (Worlds Apart) ~ Journey