Posts Tagged ‘substitute teacher’

And then there were seventy-three billion.

May 14, 2009

I expected this afternoon to be relaxing and a marvelous break from the absolute haywire and business of the week thus far. I should have known better than to expect such a thing, as it turned out rather the opposite. Nevertheless, I did have a chance, after much interruptions, to watch Sybil, a movie from the seventies about a woman with Multiple Personality Disorder, caused by her horrible childhood. I don’t know what to say about other than that it made me very angry at certaint types of people and profoundly sympathetic towards others. I suppose that is what that sort of movie does to everybody. And what do you know, it’s based on a true story (though there has been some controversy surrounding the truth behind it).

Tomorrow, rain or shine, will be my birthday party. “It shall be fun,” she said, and it was so.

I also finished watching The Stepford Wives today. That, too, was as good and possibly better than I had even hoped it would be, although it did sort of ruin it for me that I’d seen the ending portrayed on a variety of “best movie moments” televisions shows beforehand, so I knew what would happen.

Today in Guitar class we had a substitute. Sarah and I played cards more or less the whole time, and then near the end a girl named Emily joined in and then even closer to the end of class a boy named Westley joined in as well. Though these card games were very fun indeed, this is not the point I am getting to. The point I am getting to is afterwards, after class, when Sarah and I walked out of the classroom and Westley followed close behind. Here is the conversation that went on between Westley and I which left me not angry but instead confused. It strongly reminded me of a similar experience (though much more hurtful in her case) that happened to Rachel recently.

Anyway, I shall be called H and Westley shall be called W. Please ignore my awkward, brief answers. My social skills have much to learn.

W: You like to knit, right?

H: Yes.

W: I’ve been wanting to learn to knit. I can sew. I sewed a tote bag the other day, out of fabric.

H: That’s neat.

(this is when Sarah chimed in that I knit really awesome things, and even knitted a bag out of plastic bags.)

H: I’ll bring in one of the bags tomorrow.

W: Okay. (long pause, and then everything comes out in a rush) People say you’re weird, like, you know, when you wore that crossword shirt and everybody was looking at it, but I think you’re cool.

H: (silence)

This was coming from the boy who mentioned at least half a dozen times in ten minutes that he was going to have Ledo’s pizza for dinner and oh how he loves Ledo’s pizza and blah blah blah.

I couldn’t tell if he was trying to be sympathetic towards me, trying to make me feel better for something I had no cares towards, or if he was trying to hurt my feelings but then changed his mind, or what, but it was so strange… I mean, I’ve never really expected that people think I’m “normal,” but it’s still odd to hear my non-average-ness blurted out there in the open. I almost feel like thanking him, for being truthful, and also for telling me a little bit about what others think of me when I’ve always kind of wondered what people say about me behind my back. It was also strange, though, because I’ve never said more than two words to the boy. He’s the freshman that always eats and drinks and falls asleep in class, prompting yells and scoldings from the teacher. He always seems so round and jolly and chipper that I really don’t know what to think.

Anyway, he’s not a bit like the Westley from The Princess Bride, which I finished re-reading today.

And on that rebellious note, I leave you. I may or may not post tomorrow, depending on what time permits me what with the party and all.

So goodbye for an indeterminable amount of time.

Well, whatever. I don’t know…

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

April 21, 2009

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 (, 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?

Finding A Few Amazing Websites, My Love of Words, and Books (all intertwined)

May 8, 2008

My blisters from doing the Rower in Gym finally went away yesterday. Unfortunately, we did it again today and I have fresh ones.

I believe we are going out to dinner tonight.

The word of the day is brouhaha, meaning an uproar or hubbub. The color of the day is a shade of brown, zinnwaldite, that ‘beige’ color of old telephones.

The holidays are Iris Day, No Socks Day, V-E Day (Victory in Europe Day), and World Red Cross/ World Red Crescent Day.

I finished reading a book called Get A Hobby, which I checked out because I have no hobbies other than reading, writing, going on the computer, and occasionally knitting. I found a few ideas that I may incorporate into my life, such as balloon twisting (balloon animal-making), ant farming, and knotting, all three of which I have always been interested in but never gotten around to acting upon. Right now I am reading up on how to make an ant farm.

The number of the day is nine hundred thirty-three.

Guess what? Today is Harry S. Truman’s one hundred twenty-fourth birthday! According to Wikipedia, Harry was a, “folksy, unassuming president,” who, “popularized such phrases as “the buck stops here” and, “if you can’t stand the heat, you better get out of the kitchen.” His three main interests were reading, music, and history. Sounds like a pretty amazing guy, if you ask me.

Besides Get a Hobby!, I also started and finished reading My Secret: A PostSecret and am far along in Thirteen: The History of the World’s Most Popular Superstition.

Hey, have you ever heard of the obscure instrument called a ‘klaxophone?’ According to Wikipedia, The Klaxophone is an instrument created by the American composer Henry Fillmore. Made up of twelve car horns, it was created for use in his Klaxon March…this piece featured the instrument mounted on a table and powered by a car battery.” A strange and wonderful place the world is.

Oh my goodness, while searching for information on klaxophones I came across a phantasmagorical website called Wordie, at It is made up of lists of words and phrases, two of my favorite things! I am most definitely going to be spending a lot of time on this site in the near future.

Oh yeah, in English today we had a substitute and got to watch Star Wars: A New Hope! It is the first one made and I loved every minute of it that we have watched so far (we did not finish and hopefully will tomorrow, after the A Separate Peace test).

We received new pictures of the puppies we will have to choose from.  We are getting one in about three weeks.  Here is one of the photos below:

My favorite would definitely be the dark one in the back on the right side.  It has the best eyes.

For the second time, oh my goodness! I just had a sudden burst of happiness over my adoration of words and books. I love thee, fair words.

Wow, look at this site: about amazing pictures.

Random word: spookily. How fun it is to say and use!

And now, with amidst much of a brouhaha, I bid thee farewell. May you grow old surrounded by piles of words.