BEDA Installment Twenty-One: But all I want’s a life that’s free

The above is a quote from a song that is in my Guitar book. I can’t recall the name at the moment, but I quite liked the words in the third verse, as the above are from.

My PreCalc grade went up two percent just recently, and that’s before the quiz grade from today was added, a quiz that I’m sure I did fairly well on.

Today is my sister Clara’s fourteenth birthday. For eight days now, we will be one year apart rather than two. These days feel weird every year.

I paused my viewing of M is for Murder to write this, just in case I get caught up in the birthday festivities later and thus forget to post. After M is for Murder is over (I’m pretty far with it) I will be watching The Confederate States of America, if all goes well.

It just now randomly started thunderstorming. I am pleased about this. I didn’t realize it had begun until the lights flickered on and off.

Earlier today I began reading I’m a Stranger Here Myself, a book by Bill Bryson, author of The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid. I’m maybe halfway through and liking it.

Also earlier today, I prepared for a presentation for Biology. It is about mutations and includes a picture of a two-headed turtle.

I read an article by John Green about getting rid of high school proms (http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/04/16/AR2009041603510.html?hpid=opinionsbox1), and I completely agree. Proms are expensive and unnecessary, and above all an excuse to participate in a variety of dangerous and inappropriate activites.

Here’s a picture of my eye:

Doesn’t it look neat? You’d think I would have noticed before now what my eye looks like.

“He’d make a lovely corpse.”
-Charles Dickens

“Human beings, vegetables, or comic dust, we all dance to a mysterious tune, intoned in the distance by an invisible player.”
-Albert Einstein

Now, for sake of more words, let me tell you a little bit about a subsitute teacher I frequently had in elementary school.

His name may have began with a D or perhaps an R. I cannot remember it correctly, but if given multiple choice I would surely be able to remember.

He brought wooden puzzles with him. They were made of wooden blocks, each with holes in them in certain places, and there were nails with them too, but not ordinary nails, but nails that were not pointy on the thin end. Instead, they had been dulled, and there were other pieces to put on the other end of them. When our classwork was finished for the day, or while anybody was waiting for everybody else to finish their work, we would raise our hand, sitting quietly until he came over to us. “May I have a puzzle, please?” we would ask, and he would ask what level we were on. There were levels, you see, and the higher the level you were on the higher the level of difficulty you could master. The highest level I ever got to was level five, a level I never did complete.

When you finished a puzzle, which had to be put together in a specific way in order to use up all of the pieces, you would bring it up to him and receive a candy, most often a tootsie roll pop.

He is, without a doubt, the best substitute teacher I have had, to date.

Tallyhoo, goodbye to you!

Question Twenty-One: What is your favorite type of pasta?

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One Response to “BEDA Installment Twenty-One: But all I want’s a life that’s free”

  1. Fantastically Fraught Says:

    That’s difficult, but it’s a toss-up between gnocchi, tortellini, and fettuccine.

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