Lately school's been busy, three more months and i'm out of school. How exiting is that? very. I have been browsing on the internet, mostly around Forever XXI. There's so many things I would love to have. Unfortunately, my mother thinks I have too many things I don't wear. and of course, I completely disagree. It's not just because I really want the stuff, but because I really truly haven't bought something in ages.
I can't complain, well i can, but i wont anymore.
Someday I will have all the things I want, no questions asked. :)
enough of that, and back to the story I promised a few weeks back.
I'm a very irresponsible blogger you see.
So this all begins in my P.E class, sixth period, the last class of the day. Kassie (from Tutus and Mousse) and I have the same class. Soccer.
She thinks it's funny. At first I actually thought I was good at soccer. I truly did.
She told me I was crazy, and laughed, and she ended up being right.
There was an embarrassing incident, which happened the last day of school, 1/2 a day, before winter break.
I was trying to take the ball away from this girl, and she tripped me, landing on my elbows/back.
I won't lie, it hurt like a mother. I would have cried if I wasn't being stared at.
We evaluated, and decided I still held the record of worst fall up to today, the last day of the trimester.
what a thing to be proud of :)
So there's this kid, around four feet tall, 70 lbs. and a freshman (i think?).
His name is Filthy Cuts.
Yes, Filthy Cuts, that's what he calls his 'barber shop'.
Anyway, he's your typical 'i think i'm hot and can do whatever I want because I kiss my teacher's ass' kid.
that's exactly what he does.
Okay, so in soccer class, the teacher splits us up into several teams, supposedly in random order*, and has us play against each other's teams.
*she really just puts the best kids in one team, and the worst in another.
(guess where I get put? )
My team was playing against another team, and FC just jumps in like it's his team playing.
I really wasn't in the mood that day, and so I told him to 'get the heck out of here'.
he said, 'what if I don't want to?'
wtf, yes?
I simply answered, I would drag his 'skinny ass' out of there.
from then on, he gave me dirty looks, as if his puny eyes would melt me.
and I decided I hated him.
Hate is a strong word.
but I truly meant it.
That same day he purposefully kicked soccer balls at me, obviously aiming.
and right into the left boob.
He's freaking annoying.
Thank god we're done with that class.
On to yoga :)