So, (I start almost every entry with so, don't I?) We have another new student. A sophomore, thank goodness. My junior class doesn't need anymore kids. Anyway, the kid's name is Quade. And yeah, it is spelled like that. Pretty wicked name, though, eh? Well, anywho, this Quade kid is in my Spanish 2 class, and my Drawing class (he's automatically cool because of that last one.) He's pretty quiet, but he's nice, and he's a darn good artist. He's got some pretty wicked doodles. But yeah, that's all that's new at school, basically.
Yesterday evening, I decided that Bear (you all remember him, right?) needed a facial haircut. He needs a total shave, but we don't have the tools right now, but I thought it might be nice for him if he could actually see, and be able to get a drink without soaking his entire face because of all the fur. So I went ahead and cut his face hair from about 3-4 inches, down to about half and inch or maybe a little more. He looked so much happier when I was done, and it was amazing to be able to see his eyeballs. Trust me, it's scary when you can't tell what he's staring at. But, the only problem was, I had dog hair all over me, and suddenly, it was beginning to itch. Eventually, I had little red bumps everywhere. Not to mention, Bear pawed the inner side of my upper arm and left a combo of scratches and bruises.
Now, after I had finished with Bear's face, I dumped rubbing alcohol all over these little red bumps, which immediately began burning. Imagine getting stung by a wasp, then times that by like, thirty. That's what my poor arms felt like.
Today, however, there were no bumps. No, now, magically in their places are little cuts everywhere. So, It looks like I had a fight with a thorn bush, and lost. Not only that, but for some unknown reason, my legs are super sore, like I've been exercising (which I'm ashamed to say I haven't), and my back has a gazillion knots in it that won't come out.
I seemed to have had all sorts of incidents, today. Now before I explain the "Knives" part of the title, let me start by saying I always carry with me, a small silver pocket knife. It's just a simple little thing, but I carry it for safety nonetheless. Well, today, I wore these sweatpants that tend to drop everything out of my pockets when I sit down. I knew I didn't want to put my pocketknife in there, so where did I put it? If you guessed in my bra, you're correct. But the problem was, the whole thing of putting something in your bra doesn't work all that great unless you're wearing a sports bra, which, of course, I was not.
I'm in drama class, and I trying to perform a little miming activity, when all of a sudden, my knife falls out onto the floor. Friends told me later I turned beat-red, and then my teacher (who thankfully, loves me to death) goes,"Oh, that's a cool pencil sharpener."
No, she didn't really think it was a pencil sharpener. Although, in a sense, I guess it could be. But I digress. She knew it was a knife. Mortified, I scooped it up, and like an idiot, I said,"That does not exist." Could I get any more obvious?? But my teacher said nothing, just kind of laughed. The class didn't know whether to laugh or what, so for the most part they only sort of chuckled along with my teacher, but I think majority were as shocked as I was. I told my friend to hold my "pencil sharpener", and then suddenly, I couldn't remember what I was supposed to be miming! It took me a bit to finally remember it, and by then, I was shaking so bad, I could hardly mime taking out my iPod and putting in my headphones to listen to it. That was a close call. Next time I wear sweatpants, I think I'll leave my knife in my bag. It would've been better if it had been my phone, instead...
Another close call I had (actually, it was more of a mean joke played by another teacher who likes me) was after chorus. My friend was giving me a piggyback ride. But then, she started running me into people, trash cans, walls, etc., so I wanted down. Then, when she put me down, and I started walking beside her, I brought my foot up and gave her a little sidekick in the butt. Suddenly, one of the teachers come up to me and says in a serious voice,"Alright, go to the office."
Okay, I have never been sent to the office. Ever. And I'm proud of that. So, naturally, when he said that, I nearly passed out.
What? Why?!
"That's assault. Let's go to the office, now."
But...but, she called me a whore! (This was not true, but I panicked, and that randomly popped out.)
When the teacher grabbed my arm and started leading me towards the office, I nearly started crying. I had kicked people in the butt in front of a teacher before, and they had just laughed.
Just then, my friend started laughing and pulled me back, saying,"Oh brother, Carson. Quit being so mean." And with that, my friend and I walked away towards our next class, and left our teacher behind us, smiling slyly.
I was stunned. And still almost crying. Later, my friend told me I had no color in my face for quite some time after that. And, she laughed at me, of course. It was a cruel joke, and yeah, I might sound like a wuss, but I'm telling you, after a perfect record that you care about, these things can make you cry.
In Algebra, I'm pretty sure I had some sort of tourette's attack. I kept freaking out. I randomly began kicking the leg of my desk, growling, face-planting into my book, slamming my head against my desk, punching my calculator, making weird noises, etc. Having an all-around spaz attack. It was weird.
I feel pretty normal, now, except I'm super tired, and I can't seem to be able to spell any word right the first time!!
Ugh. I hurt everywhere. I'm going to curl up on my nice warm couch (yeah, I sleep on a couch during the winter) with my nice fluffy pillow, and go to bed. Goodnight, dear friends.
This is Maximum Sunshine, signing off. Αντίο και ο Θεός ταχύτητας.
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