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8:50 p.m. - 2001-04-29 Attack of the Killer TomatoesEver see it? It was our bomb threat evacuation movie. When I was a senior in h.s., we had 21 bomb threats in a row. By #2 we were out to get the one who was doing it (later found out by the police b/c they were making the calls from the pay phones outside the office...stupid stupid stupid). So, when we'd have one, we would be taken to the middle school behind our h.s. to sit there til the police deemed it safe. Well, we were smart lil seniors. We gave the freshmen gum or pocket change (something like that) to call us on the payphone when the bombthreat was over. Then we'd come back. What did we do while hiding out? We'd goto a friend's house to watch "Attack of the Killer Tomatoes." I can still hear that theme song (AAAAAAAAAAAAttack of the Killer Toooooomaaaaaaaaaaaaaatoes.....). Guess you had to be there. Funny how my mind retains so much needless shit. Anyways... I'm over this GRE disappointment thing. I'm sure they get plenty of stupid people begging to be admitted. I just won't beg. I'll pester. I think it has more class. (I have to apply anyways because I had the results sent to the schools, YET I've done nothing towards this process b/c I'm a procrastinator...) And, that makes me special. And, mathematically challenged, apparently. Tomorrow I have to go back to work and see tanned smiling teens who've obviously spent the weekend at the shore. Bastards. I got to spend it taking my GRE's. I don't see an even plane there...me test, them shore/beer/food/sleep/fun. Damn kids, they get all the fun. I keep staring at these scores. Dammit. Why do I do that? I'm having major flashbacks from SAT's as well (and I took those eons ago...EONS I SAY). Standardized tests + me = need to feed on chocolate Sucks to be me, but I can't imagine being anyone else. Except for one thing... WHY DID GOD PUNISH ME WITH MENSTRATION? (It's EARLY again!!) NOT only do I have to suffer alongside millions of women each month (hopefully not at the same time), but I get the cramps which make me feel as tho someone is punching me in the back. Ever see the commercial for that PMS disorder? I think I have it. I want drugs to calm the evil feelings inside me. I get mean when I have my period. Mean, cranky and CRAMPY. I pity my family, students, and any adults/children/small animals who venture into my path. Sucks to be them, I guess. Ugh! I hope I feel better by tomorrow. I guess that's how I got the "Frothy Bitch" knickname afterall. *ponders that thought* Ok, I keep seeing other people posting about Survivor. (I liked Elisabeth....Keith, on the other hand, he's a closet homosexual who can't cook.) I'm pissed that I missed it. That night I had crashed an awards dinner at my college to see my friend receive a Who's Who award. (Lucky thing, they never gave me that...I guess I'm not worthy of such a prestigious award...tho I did graduate in my top 10...so go figure) So, I walk into the building and notice the cafeteria doors are open. What do I do? I just walk in. I'm like that with certain things. I knew just about everyone in there. Especially the woman in charge. Tho, I had to duck and cover when it came for the door hound to check to see if I had a ticket. I didn't. Why should I? I'm an alumni who owes them a lot of money. They owe me. I don't think my education was worth $29,000 for three years of schooling. Trust me, I ate in the caf for 2 of those years (that's probably why I'm unstable now). Once I got in the door, all was peachy. The administrative assistant in charge of this shin-dig is a friend of mine. She flagged me over, following being accosted by the ticket wench (er...school nurse). She told me to go eat (the only good meal they EVER serve at that school, btw), but I felt weird b/c I was the only one in jeans. (Hell, what did I know. The dinner was always a week before the awards, WHICH, btw, is NEXT week.) So, I sipped coffee and contraband chocolate-covered-strawberries brought over by one of the staff who works in the school (I have connections). I would've gotten away with it if I didn't have chocolate on my face. It's hard to lie about not eating anything with smudges on the corners of your mouth. (I took care of it quickly *grins*) So, I saw her get her awardS...all of which made me proud of her. She was my prodigy. She's older than I am, but I kept her in school. Yes, I take total credit. Many a night she'd email or call me or grab me at school (daytime for that) crying about how school sucked and how she wouldn't make it. I'd retort with a slam of humor, making fun of a professor or two. I think they didn't plan on ME graduating. They told me they were surprised I behaved so well the last year (even non-traditional students can be mature sometimes). I'm outspoken, not afraid of a debate or conversation, and I'm in with the younger students. I posed a threat to them, apparently. I'm not stupid (regardless of the GRE results, and the fact that albeit I'm a goof, I'm really an anal retentive student), and that scared them. I'd be goofy, then serious. Totally what they didn't want. Unstability at its finest. (call me, multipersonality...I can name em all...and they each have their own schtick... hehe) (Flashback) My sophomore year there (first one there....first semester...2nd week) a professor of mine (I'll call him the Mighty Dick) told me I'd never become a teacher, nor would I ever graduate. I'm not mold-able he said. (Hell, I was 29....I was plenty molded already.) Upon my graduation day (and successful completion of EVERY class with mostly all A's), this Mighty Dick approaches me with his hand outright (mind you, I wouldn't touch him with a 20 foot pole, a pair of rubber glovers, and vaseline) to shake it. I told him to go fuck himself and walked away. Now THAT'S Ballsy. *Grins* Besides, he deserved it. How dare he doubt my ability when he didn't even know what it was. I even told him the basketball team he coached sucked because he yelled too much and watched too little. So goes it for the education teacher (aka Mighty Dick) who felt I spoke too quickly and could never achieve(and my retort was, "I may speak quickly, but at least I don't mumble."). Neener neener to him. Unfortunately, he harassed a lot of older female students (non-sexually....TRUST ME....he never had it to harass with it). And, this is where my friend landed. He chose her once I was out of his reach. She dropped out of the education dept. because the Mighty Dick told her she'd never become a teacher. (Heard it before? Guess what? He said that to 5 out of every 30 new students.) The ones who don't deserve to teach sail through without so much a peep out of him. I did confront him about his attitude one day (in class, btw) and he said it was because he wanted to push us to be better than we were. Better? Fuck you asshole, I can be pushed without your help. Better yet, I didn't need all that negative criticism to guide me through my undergrad years. So, in retaliation, I made his life a living hell because he thought I couldn't do "it." Guess what? I did plus some. So, I had to get her through college w/o dropping out. I told her nasty stories about him, then made fun of him, then she laughed. She was in the same boat as I was, except I refused to quit. I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself on graduation day JUST because he told me I couldn't "do it." (I personally think he meant.....do HIM, but that's another theory.) So...she's on her last leg of college. Ready to start a new life. Ready to graduate Magna Cum Laude (and even if she didn't, I'd still be prouder than hell of her.) She's a tribute to all those older students who dropped out because they didn't feel as though they could make "it." She did, and I'm sure she will do great and spectacular things as she moves through life. Speaking of the awards next week (actually, this Thursday)... I get to induct the new members of Alpha Chi. (High Honors) I'm supposed to give a speech. Maybe I'll tell them NOT to take the GRE for fear of becoming stupid, or NOT to teach at a low-level h.s. that has no ambition because it will make YOU feel stupid and insignificant. I want my masters so I can improve myself. Why can't h.s. kids (collectively) do the same? Because at our h.s., we're known for big drugs and stupid kids. I'm not lying, its the truth. And throughout this year, I've become stupid (I shoulda opted for the drugs.) Oh well, c'est le vie (or so they say). Night night.
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