The Dreaded Year

Well, it’s the first Monday of my junior year of high school and I’m back to blogging. After my hiatus, I’m just going to ignore that it ever happened rather than explaining it to you because I figure most of you don’t actually care, and I don’t want to waste your time.

So here we are, another school year begun, another new set of books, pens, pencils, glasses, clothes and teachers. Junior year, the dreaded year, the year I have been warned about time and time again, especially as an honors student. So far, high school has been as follows:

Freshman Year: the year of loneliness (don’t worry, things have gotten better)

Sophomore Year: the year of activities

Junior Year: yet to be decided, but if all goes according to legend, it will become ‘the year of homework’


This may come as a shock to. . . well. . . everyone, but I actually enjoy school. I like being able to see my friends. I appreciate the opportunity to get smarter. I enjoy learning.

I, however, DO NOT like homework, or getting up in the morning, or taking tests, or the fact that our value as a person is decided by a number we have to earn by being quizzed on things we might not be good at, like history or math. 

I understand that having signed up for all honors classes, I have basically sacrificed any social life I possess in order to maintain good grades. I accept it. Hell, I welcome it. But things that I have heard about teachers that I have this year are far worse than any homework horror story the now-seniors can feed to me.

Last Minute Homework

One teacher, according to common tales, is just the opposite of what you would hope for in a teacher. A teacher that speeds through material and proceeds to talk to you as if you’re stupid when you ask her questions. Evidence thus far in the school year has indicated these tales are 100% true.

A teacher could give me a mountain of homework and a multitude of essays to write and still not be as bad as this teacher, because this is the worst injustice a teacher could pull on a student. Teachers are supposed to help you if you need it. They tell you to ask questions if you need help. Their main goal in their job is to help you succeed, so why would any one of them treat you like you’re stupid when you ask a question?

Other than that particular teacher, looks like this year will be loaded with homework, which is manageable if I ‘budget my time wisely’ as they keep reminding me. The most terrifying thing would be play season, especially considering I will be auditioning for both the fall play, and the winter musical.

More Homework

Consider this post a bit of a heads up, play/homework/school related posts are coming! Auditions are around the corner so trust me, it’s coming.

Besides that, have an awesome week. I’ll be back here again on Monday to share with you all the tale of my acquisition of glasses.



On a totally happy beginning note, happy beginning of the week! Nice Monday so far? No? Okay, on with the rant:

Soooooo. We can all agree that school is awesome and the main source of fun in the world, right? Yeah, I didn’t think so. Can we all at least agree that I am at least seven times more entertaining when I’m ranting about something? I’m not even going to guess your answer for that one because of my total lack of interest in what some people think. I’m not saying necessarily you but in some cases, I might be.

Anyway, back to the rant. History is an awesome class isn’t it? Who doesn’t love sitting in a hundred-year-old building learning about a bunch of old fat and/or short guys who could never agree on anything? This class is the epitomy of a good time. So this is what a teacher should do, they should make this class even better by not even teaching. Let’s have all the students make presentations on each of the topics in the chapter and have them teach each other! GREAT IDEA!

Please, let’s do that. I love it when having a teacher becomes completely pointless and when I have to learn most-likely mixed up information by my peers who have absolutely no clue what they’re doing. Why don’t we just hire them as the teachers. I mean all you have to do is regurgitate what is written in the book,right? What’s the point in even getting a degree? Just put people who can read in front of a classroom and they’ll make do.

So there I was, all week. Working on a presentation on the Gold Rush, stressing about my grade. (In case you were wondering, history is still the only grade that I have a B in, albeit a high B. Believe it or not, I am one point away from an A, with a 92). This is how it went down; our class was in the library all week, working on these presentations. I was the only girl in my group, and evidently the only one who didn’t have A.D.D. every day at ninth period. Don’t get me wrong, my group was entertaining, funny, and we did manage to get all of our work done.

In fact, we were totally finished. An awesome power-point presentation all about everything you ever wanted to know about the Gold Rush. Then, over the weekend, we had to do something else. We had to take notes on the chapter and turn them in for a grade. Not as a group, it was a requirement for every individual student in the class for a totally unrelated grade. The thing, though, is that the Gold Rush in the book was the Alaska Gold Rush. Guess what we did our presentation on? THE FREAKIN’ CALIFORNIA GOLD RUSH!!!!

We had spent our entire week researching the WRONG FRIGGIN’ TOPIC. So how did we proceed? We questioned our teacher, bearing in mind that we made the presentation on google docs and shared it with him at his request, so that he could check and make sure we weren’t going totally in the wrong direction (which we most definitely were). Seeing as he never told us ‘hey, this is not at all what this is supposed to be about, why don’t you read the chapter like a smart person for once?’ we thought maybe he was okay with us doing this Gold Rush. We knew it was a lost cause, though.

So there we sat, in the back of the room, arguing about who was going to go up and ask our teacher if it was okay to present our current power-point or if we had to totally start a new one. Now I should explain to you, our teacher is small. Like really small. Like half a toothpick small if a can of soup were a normal sized human being. And yet, we were all still so imtimidated by him that we were back there trying to make somebody else go up and ask. Finally, we decided to go up to him as a group, considering we were far too cowardly for any of us to go alone.

I’m not even going to bother going into detail about the following interaction, because it will only make me cry tears of failure. All in all, we now have to make another project on THE RIGHT TOPIC and then be the last group to present to the class, only finding out that we were totally wrong the day before presentations began.

Here’s to the three of us, doing all of our work after school and over the weekend and hopefully being able to pull it off and not totally fail this class. (When I say ‘over the weekend’ I’m writing this on a Thursday, posting it on a Monday. Our presentation is due Monday.)

P.S: I wrote this post a while ago and thought it was too good to spare, so I hope you enjoyed it. Also, I posted ‘Being a Creator’ on Tuesday after last Monday, my usual blog day, and I never gave my post before that a chance, ‘Another Monday’ which I think isn’t fair because I thought it was one of my best. Please go check it out if you have five minutes to spare. Also, leave a comment telling me about your biggest fail to make me feel less pathetic about myself.