Because I had a really lousy morning! I got up at 7:05, showered, dressed, blah blah, and then left the room at 7:55 to go to class, which starts at 8:00. Hmm. I was explaining how I got there, but due to the senseless architectural design of this building I was confusing even myself. So anyway, I got there, and I wasn't late, which I suppose is a good thing. First period is E.A.S.T. Lab. We've been working on the MicroStation tutorial ever since school started three weeks ago. Everyone is finished, with the exception of two people. One of them is me. The other is a senior who only started about a week ago and is already ahead of me. So everyone's starting on their exciting projects, and I'm sitting there staring at the interface of the most un-userfriendly program I have ever worked with, using instructions written for an earlier model so that nothing is where it's supposed to be.

I hate MicroStation.

So that was an hour and a half in which I felt increasingly like an idiot, and then I went to calculus. Let's see, how to say this... Calculus makes me feel like my intelligence equals that of the average networking coordinator of FOX. Come on, how low can you go? I've actually been sort of getting it... sort of... but today Mrs. Nichols started speaking Martian, and I totally lost her. I tried to pay attention, but I could feel the information flying right over my head while this glazed look came over my face. Cot(arctan 5/8). Heellllppp meeeeeeeeeeeee.

You mathematically inclined people (you make me sick, by the way) might have noticed that the stated problem is not calculus, but trig. Which is because even though I'm in AP AB Calculus, it's the class for people who never had pre-cal/trig, so we're doing a 6 week trig course in which we cover an entire year of trig, and then we spend the rest of the year learning calculus, and at the end of the year we are in the exact same place as the normal non-trig AP AB Calculus people.

Oh gross. That was completely disgusting. Why did I just spend two paragraphs talking about math? Never, never, never go to a math and science school when you don't like math or science. It'll do things to you.

Lunch was a nice break, but then I had to go back to class. American Studies and Junior English Composition were on the schedule for this afternoon. Thank the Lord for humanities. My brain was so fried in AmStud that I forgot that I am an introvert here and reverted to my at-home habits of making smart remarks throughout the class.

That made me happier.

English here is so pathetic. You'd think that this being the so-called best school in the state, they'd have an advanced program like the one I've been in for the past two years. Of course, as I have had pointed out to me repeatedly, this is a math and science school. These people can solve multi-variable equations in their heads, but they can't identify the topic sentence of a paragraph. I have not done work this elementary or seen writing so poor since eighth grade. The up side of all this is, I can walk around my English classroom with a sense of maddening superiority, which certainly is a nice contrast to all my other classes.

Do you know how frustrating it is to go from being number three in your class at a pretty good school to feeling like a total idiot because for some unintelligable reason you applied and got into a school that plays to your weaknesses and de-emphasizes your strengths?

But I'm happy right now because my residential mentor hung a dress she had made in the hallway for anyone who wanted it, and I got it. It makes my boobs and waist look smaller. Excellent.

Tomorrow starts the Labor Day weekend, and I get to go home after lunch. I'm not really going home, though; I'm spending the night at Jamie's. How I miss that house... so many memories.

I'm a bad girl. The class officer candidates are downstairs giving their speeches, and I'm skipping them. It's not a mandatory activity, but it is "strongly suggested." I already know who I'm voting for, though, and speeches bore me. As long as the school SWAT team doesn't come to interrogate me, I'll be fine.

Be jealous of me, for I have Windows XP. My roommate's friend has "connections." Buahaha. For everyone who doesn't know what I'm talking about, which would be everyone, XP is the newest version of Windows. It won't even be commercially released until October, and I got it free. Not that it's made my life easier (harder, if anything, because Norton Antivirus will no longer work, and there was a while there when I thought I wouldn't be able to get my scanner to work either), but come on, only the cool kids have XP.

No one loves me, though. I told you all to sign my guestbook and tell me that you did. Mary was the only one who signed at all, and she didn't even say she loved me. (Not that she has to, because she's actually already said so.) It doesn't really matter, though. How could any of you love me? You don't even know me. It was a stupid thing to ask. A stupid thing to bring up.

Stupid teenage pity-parties.

And darn it, now I'm not happy anymore.