Teachers annoy me sometimes, especially the ones my classmates think I am the teacher’s pet for. It frustrating because they don’t even know the half of it.

My fourth grade teacher had my classmates and I draw out of a container writing prompts for a version of descriptive poetry I can never remember the name of. I was so upset and embarrassed because I received a “boy prompt” as I called it, and I even tried to change it out before she noticed. She wouldn’t let me, so I asked her after class. See, the “popular” girls got to switch out theirs, but I didn’t. Actually, I’ve tried to always just please my teachers, but they always just ended up still treating me worse than the class clowns/popular clique instead. Quite ridiculous, really. I look back and think that she could have let me have a different prompt (in this case, it was a subject, really). I mean, how was I supposed to know what a Komodo Dragon was?!?! I didn’t know, and she wouldn’t show me a picture. So you know what I did? Much to her dismay, I wrote about it as if it was some kind of mythological/fairyland creature. THAT’S WHAT YOU GET when you give me something to write about realistically when you won’t even allow me to research it.

Freshman year in dance we were just sitting/chilling for the day and not at all doing anything because, well, Mrs. Crittenden just… let us sit there sometimes during the class periods – especially after the killer ab workouts. Charley, Alicia and I were just sitting in the corner being bored and whatnot and talking and writing crap. I was doing some last minute work on some homework. Long story short (and because I don’t feel like detailing) Charley looked onto my paper (it was upside down to her) and freaked out. Apparently the way I write “this” in one of those preppy/Pea font handwriting ways of mine looks like “slut” upside down.

Later in the year after Hurricane Katrina a lot of people were relocated to [for some odd reason] the small town of Forney, Texas. A lot of them were very cruel and acted as if we owed them everything because our houses weren’t destroyed by a hurricane. Sorry, but NO. That’s really disrespectful, I think. -.- Anyway, C, A and I always joked around with each other.[1. Just remembered that there was Ashley, too, but eh… She was a girl who thought she was all that and blah, blah, blah – basically she treated us horribly.] SO when Alicia was giving the new girl (can never remember her name), it went like “902-654…”, so I was all like, “6-5-4, 3-2-1, get up, get up!” The new girl acted like I’d done the worst thing in the world and was all like, “Was that necessary? Do you know how disrespectful that is? This is why I don’t like you.” She and I never got along, anyway, though. She’d always get in my personal space, and I was constantly asking her to move politely only for her to reply with, “Why should I? You knew I was coming to sit over here.” It was as if she just ADOPTED us as her friends whether we liked it or not.

Back to fourth grade, I went to that same school for fifth grade as well. Not sure if it was in San Antonio or Austin/Pflugerville, but I’m thinking it was T.O.E.S., which was in San Antonio, so it’s make sense. 😛 When I first moved there, a dress code requirement I was not told about until the teacher pulled me aside and got onto me was that shirts were required to be tucked in. …Not all shirts are able to do that, especially in those noisy wind pants. Anyway, she got onto me multiple times about it – same fourth grade teacher. I do like that we always did clay things. She always had a lot of clay because of something her husband did, or she did, or whatever… Yeah, I don’t remember that part.

In fifth grade my teacher didn’t like to be tapped. Well, I accidentally tapped her once because I forgot, and I was having an asthma attack. She yelled at me and said to “just go to the nurse’s office” and that my “detention slip will be given later”. -.- Sorry for ruining her Solitaire time?