one by the drinking fountain?
Me:
(Wishing Lars would stop coughing suggestively)
Um, no.
Mr Gianini:
That's what I thought. Because you know the penalty for pulling one of the fire alarms — when there is,
in fact, no sign of a fire - is expulsion.
Me:
Oh, yes. I know that.
Mr Gianini:
I thought you might have seen who did it, since I believe I gave you a hall pass shortly before the alarm went off.
Me:
Oh, no. I didn't see anybody.
Except Justin Baxendale, and his smoky eyelashes. But I didn't say that.
Mr Gianini:
I didn't think so. Oh, well. If you ever hear who did it, maybe you could tell her from me never to do it again.
Me:
Um. OK.
Mr. Gianini:
And tell her thanks from me too. The last thing we need right now, with tensions running so high over Finals, is a student walkout.
(Mr. Gianini picked up his briefcase and jacket.)
See you at home.
Then he winked at me. WINKED at me, like he knew I was the one who'd done it. But he couldn't know. I mean, he doesn't know about my nostrils (which were fully flaring the whole time; I could feel them!) Right? RIGHT????
Thursday; December 10, Homeroom
Lilly is going to drive me crazy.
Seriously. Like it's not enough I have Finals and my introduction to Genovia and my love life and everything to worry about. I have to listen to Lilly complain about how the administration of Albert Einstein High is out to get her. The whole way to school this morning she just droned on and on about how it's all a plot to silence her because she once complained about the Coke machine outside the gym. Apparently, the Coke machine is indicative of the administration's efforts to turn us all into mindless soda-drinking, Gap-wearing clones.
If you ask me, this isn't really about Coke, or the attempts by the school's administration to turn us into mindless pod-people. It's really just because Lilly's still mad she can't use a chapter of the book she's writing on the teen experience as her term paper.
I told Lilly if she doesn't submit a new topic, she's going to get an F as her nine-week grade. Factored in with her A for the
last nine weeks, that's only like a C, which will significantly lower her grade point average and put her chances of getting into Berkeley, which is her first-choice school, at risk. She may be forced to fall back on her safety school, Brown, which I know would be quite a blow.
She didn't even listen to me. She says she's having an organizational meeting of this new group (of which she is president) Students Against the Corporatization of Albert Einstein High School (SACAEHS) on Saturday, and I have to come because
I am the group's secretary. Don't ask me how that happened. Lilly says I write everything down anyway so it shouldn't be any trouble for me.
I wish Michael had been there to defend me from his sister but, like he has every day this week, he took the subway to school early so he can work on his project for the Winter Carnival.
I wouldn't doubt Judith Gershner has been showing up at school on the early side too, this week.
Speaking of Michael, I picked up another greeting card, this one from the Plaza gift shop, on the way to Sebastiano's showroom last night. It's a lot better than that stupid one with the strawberry. This one has a picture of a lady holding a finger
to her lips. Inside it says, Shhhh . . .
Under that, I am having Tina write:
Roses are red
But cherries are redder
Maybe she can clone fruit flies
But I like you better.
What I meant was that I like him more than Judith Gershner does, but I'm not really sure that comes through in the poem. Tina says it does, but Tina thinks I should have used love instead of like, so who knows if her opinion is of any value? This is a
poem clearly calling for a like and not a love.
I should know. I write enough of them.
Poems, I mean.
English Journal
This semester we have read several novels,
Me:
(Wishing Lars would stop coughing suggestively)
Um, no.
Mr Gianini:
That's what I thought. Because you know the penalty for pulling one of the fire alarms — when there is,
in fact, no sign of a fire - is expulsion.
Me:
Oh, yes. I know that.
Mr Gianini:
I thought you might have seen who did it, since I believe I gave you a hall pass shortly before the alarm went off.
Me:
Oh, no. I didn't see anybody.
Except Justin Baxendale, and his smoky eyelashes. But I didn't say that.
Mr Gianini:
I didn't think so. Oh, well. If you ever hear who did it, maybe you could tell her from me never to do it again.
Me:
Um. OK.
Mr. Gianini:
And tell her thanks from me too. The last thing we need right now, with tensions running so high over Finals, is a student walkout.
(Mr. Gianini picked up his briefcase and jacket.)
See you at home.
Then he winked at me. WINKED at me, like he knew I was the one who'd done it. But he couldn't know. I mean, he doesn't know about my nostrils (which were fully flaring the whole time; I could feel them!) Right? RIGHT????
Thursday; December 10, Homeroom
Lilly is going to drive me crazy.
Seriously. Like it's not enough I have Finals and my introduction to Genovia and my love life and everything to worry about. I have to listen to Lilly complain about how the administration of Albert Einstein High is out to get her. The whole way to school this morning she just droned on and on about how it's all a plot to silence her because she once complained about the Coke machine outside the gym. Apparently, the Coke machine is indicative of the administration's efforts to turn us all into mindless soda-drinking, Gap-wearing clones.
If you ask me, this isn't really about Coke, or the attempts by the school's administration to turn us into mindless pod-people. It's really just because Lilly's still mad she can't use a chapter of the book she's writing on the teen experience as her term paper.
I told Lilly if she doesn't submit a new topic, she's going to get an F as her nine-week grade. Factored in with her A for the
last nine weeks, that's only like a C, which will significantly lower her grade point average and put her chances of getting into Berkeley, which is her first-choice school, at risk. She may be forced to fall back on her safety school, Brown, which I know would be quite a blow.
She didn't even listen to me. She says she's having an organizational meeting of this new group (of which she is president) Students Against the Corporatization of Albert Einstein High School (SACAEHS) on Saturday, and I have to come because
I am the group's secretary. Don't ask me how that happened. Lilly says I write everything down anyway so it shouldn't be any trouble for me.
I wish Michael had been there to defend me from his sister but, like he has every day this week, he took the subway to school early so he can work on his project for the Winter Carnival.
I wouldn't doubt Judith Gershner has been showing up at school on the early side too, this week.
Speaking of Michael, I picked up another greeting card, this one from the Plaza gift shop, on the way to Sebastiano's showroom last night. It's a lot better than that stupid one with the strawberry. This one has a picture of a lady holding a finger
to her lips. Inside it says, Shhhh . . .
Under that, I am having Tina write:
Roses are red
But cherries are redder
Maybe she can clone fruit flies
But I like you better.
What I meant was that I like him more than Judith Gershner does, but I'm not really sure that comes through in the poem. Tina says it does, but Tina thinks I should have used love instead of like, so who knows if her opinion is of any value? This is a
poem clearly calling for a like and not a love.
I should know. I write enough of them.
Poems, I mean.
English Journal
This semester we have read several novels,
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