School Is Hell

And my teacher is the devil. (Is that just the most cliche thing I've written thus far?)

Everyday I arrive at school looking, feeling like a million bucks. I ride my bike 2 miles there and 2 miles back, in return I produce endorphins (and help save the ozone. BOOM!) As everyone who's seen Legally Blonde should know, endorphins make you happy. (I'm quite certain my happy isn't the "normal" happy, but it is an acceptable happy. Enough so that it helps me to not Snap on my grandmother.) So it would be safe to say that I don't arrive to class looking for a fight.

Minute by minute my teacher peels away those positive feelings I've newly acquired and an hour after I've clocked in, I'm back to my 'negative, pessimistic, in danger of becoming sour' self. Today for instance, Fat Baby Mama was taking forever writing her notes, so I hurried to the bathroom as fast as I could, not wanting to miss the demonstration my teacher was waiting to give. (And when I say teacher, I tread lightly.) I was gone, oh I don't know, 2 minutes maximum. As soon as I walked back in the door I realized she had literally started showing the 'new do' immediately after I'd left the room. (Coincidence? I think not.) I ran to my spot and began watching her intently, hoping she would notice that all my focus was on her. She finished and I asked a question.

Moi: "Does it matter how many times we section off the hair?"
C***: "Well, if you were here when we began instead of running off you would know the answer to that. And it's also in the notes that you just wrote down, so obviously you weren't paying attention to those either. Tell me Miranda, how many sections should there be?"
Moi: "Ohhh, there are supposed to be nine, right?"
C***: "GOOOOD job."

In all honesty, that's word for word. I make a mental note to memorize everything she says. This was our very first interaction of the day mind you. We hadn't spoken a word to each other until then, and out of nowhere she verbally accosts me with her mother fucking attitude. Later on when I was trying, and failing miserably, to recreate the 'do' she showed us (which just so happened to be a PERM) I needed more help, and wasn't afraid to ask. She comes over, shows me what to do, but not without reminding me that if I hadn't gone to the bathroom I wouldn't have missed the instructions. HERE WE GO.

"I'm sorry that I've been surfing the crimson wave for the past two weeks and need to use the bathroom on a regular basis. Not only is it extremely inconvenient, irritating and uncomfortable but it's also an evident health issue I'm dealing with. I only went when I did because B*** was still writing down her notes and I thought I had time. I seriously think you made the ulcer in my brain travel to my uterus, and now my body won't stop bleeding. By the way, PERMS? I'm pretty sure those went out of style when the year 1994 became 1995. And THANK YOU by the way, for making me feel guilty for being a woman."

I'm not going to lie and say that I think that rant made The Situation any better, but it sure as fuck made me feel good. Given, my hand shook for the remaining hour. (I also shake when I get mad.) The rest of the day went rather smoothly, all things considered. It was clear I was more than ready to leave school less than halfway through the day. "You seem ready to leave, you have a date tonight?"

"Actually, I have a date with 5 beers and a blog."

She didn't believe me when I told her I didn't have any plans to see any specific person, and that I was just going to a bar to drink a few beers alone and 'write.' Of course she asked what I was going to write about, I refused to tell her but I have to believe she got the hint when I tilted my head toward her, raised my left eyebrow and gave her the "I absolutely loathe you and everything you represent, so it's only understandable that I'm going to write about how much you suck' look.

And OF COURSE when I walk into my new favorite bar I see 'that guy' sitting at the bar. (Oh, this is your favorite place to drink too? WEIRD!!!) At least he wasn't with a girl because god knows that would have been even more awkward. (Oh no, it definately doesn't look like I'm stalking this guy.) And it would only make sense that I see him when I'm wearing my school clothes and my hair is in a side pony. Awesome. Really fucking awesome.)

XXXO
Miranda