I didn't get a chance to blog yesterday because I had so much stuff to do. Greg and I touched up our AP Lit project on Sunday night, but his printer's ink was low, so the articles were hard to read. Yesterday morning, I had this epiphany in the shower (weird, I know) that he could email the text to me so I could print it. (We used WordPerfect for the original, and my computer couldn't convert it. Besides, the file was enormous.) He did, and I dashed out the door at 9:10 after snatching the last sheet from the printer tray. Of course, I was late to school, but we turned the project in on time, and she can read all the articles and give us a fair grade now.
During It's Ac yesterday, Steven read the questions because Mr. T was busy with students. He mispronounced words like mad, so Greg took over after a page or two. He and Ian were doing their usual insulting, rude banter thing, which always drives me crazy. I do not understand male friendships now, and I don't think I ever will. If any of my friends insulted me the way they do, jokingly or not, I'd be seriously hurt. Anyway, some of the things I said and things he said built up, and then he accidentally ran into me in the parking lot and knocked me down. I was upset, and he was upset that I was upset, but I refuse to let things stew, so we talked it out before I came home. Driving makes using my time much more efficient.
Back to the bus this morning, ugh. It was on time, though, which caught me off guard. I was only about five minutes late to class.
I still cringe at some of Mr. Witko's mannerisms, but I can let them slide. Back when we did the SAT video, I missed his class, so I skipped (as in, didn't do, not as in dodged class) a vocabulary quiz the next day. I forgot to make it up until just before Christmas break. Last week, I realized I was only half done, but he told me to turn it in anyway, and I got full credit. If I was ever going to skip a class (which I've never done without good reason -- no lies for make-up work for Lindsay), it'd be his. Chris M. skips at least once a week, and Mr. Witko never mentions it as long as he does the work (which, come to think of it, he doesn't).
I spaced out again in Adkins. It's not the material, it's the circumstances. That's about midway through the day, but it's closer to departure than arrival. I'm always tired, anyway, so listening to Mr. Adkins lecture for over an hour doesn't help keep me awake. The break helps. Videos (like the one we had today) don't. I have a test tomorrow, all multiple-choice. If I manage an A or a high B and do well on my paper (which I'm in the process of writing :x), I think I can hold onto my 90. If not, a B is still fine. I just wish I didn't have to review
six elections tonight. And they're the second batch of forgettable presidents, too, Grant through Benjamin Harrison. AP US History is helping me on
Jeopardy!, though.
Congratulations to Megan, Stephanie, and Hope for winning their last swim meet! I still owe you guys a meet, remember? Pick one where you think you'll do well, and I'll come watch. Assuming I can handle any highways, that is.
I wonder if there is a limit to creating new melodies and beats. Will people just run out of new song ideas one day? Not in terms of lyrics, but the musicality aspect. Hmm.
Rajni posted that in her blog. There are only seven basic tones, and only so many octaves in which humans can hear. Within that range, there are infinitely many possibilities for melodies, especially when you consider the rhythm factor. People have been creative since... forever..., so if they ever mathematically "ran out" of songs, I have hope that someone would find a solution to make more. Very cool idea to ponder.
I have an NHS meeting before school, a math test first period, an Adkins test fifth and sixth period, and two chapters to read for AP Lit. Not to mention the PowerPoint presentation I have to start Thursday in class for Geology, RP Chapter Four, and my Adkins paper.
On the less negative side, I only have one reply from my colleges: Penn State, which was acceptance. I just got a receipt postcard from UMBC, which means all my applications are in. Now, for the waiting. And scholarships. Ugh, more essays.
