I often get into fights and arguments with people whom I don’t know. But these people are usually around the age of 12 and the arguments are usually about “who is better: Panic At The Disco or Led Zeppelin”.

So you’d think that getting into a huge argument with a 30-something middle school teacher over “who is at fault: me or you, dumbass” would be a nice change of pace.

But it’s not.

It all started a couple of months ago. I was walking along, minding my own business, when suddenly my phone started beeping. I looked at the screen - I had gotten a new email.

The email was from one of my teachers. It was asking me if I wanted to get involved in a project with some middle schoolers for extra credit. The project would be about natural disasters. I was a little “ehhh” about the topic, but the prospect of extra credit was too much. I wrote back “sure” and continued on my way.

For the next few weeks, I heard nothing about the project. The middle school teacher (let’s call him Mr. B) who was in charge of it was supposed to tell me when project meetings were, but I had heard nothing. I just assumed that it was taking a while to get going and forgot about the project altogether.

Then, a few days later, the teacher who recruited me for the project asked me if I had gone to the meeting that had just happened. I thought “say WHAT?” and asked “What meeting?”.

It then hit me: OH MY GOD There have been meetings going on and I knew nothing about them. Why? Because nobody had informed me about them.

I told this to the teacher and he said that he didn’t know either until a few minutes ago. So Mr. B had been keeping us both out of the loop, had he? Very interesting.

I was informed about the next meeting, so I went to it. I had apparently missed 4 weeks’ worth of work and was, to quote Mr. B, “falling behind”. I wanted to kick him, but opted instead to draw something obscene on a piece of paper and tape it to his back.

After that meeting, I was kept in the dark for about 4 weeks. Then I was finally told about a meeting, which I attended. I was told by Mr. B that I had “missed the past 4 meetings” and that I was “falling severely behind”.

I was in a state of disbelief. I was tempted to say something snarky, like “Well, excuse me, Pompous McBastard-Face, but it’s not my fault I’m falling behind. It’s your fault for being too much of a thickhead to tell me when to show up,” but alas I was in no position to do so. So I said “Whatever” and carried on.

When the meeting was over, I went outside and kicked over a trash can.

A week later, I awoke at 10 AM, my usual wake-up time for Fridays. My phone was beeping off the hook. I had missed a phone call. I checked it out - the phone number was unfamiliar to me. But the caller had left me a voicemail, so I listened.

To my absolute horror, it was Mr. B.

“Hello, Katie? This is Mr. B. I was wondering if you were going to actually come to the meeting today. It’s at the middle school, second floor, at 8 AM. If you’re not going to come, call me back. Know that you are falling severely behind and are on track to not earn credit for doing this. If you miss any more meetings then I don’t know what to tell you.”

At this point, I was thinking several things.

1. What the fuck is he doing, calling me that early? A meeting at 8 AM? Message left at 5 AM? I am not going to get that thing in time.

2. How come the one time he remembers to tell me when the meeting is, he does it ON THE DAY OF THE MEETING? I like to be prepared.

3. Even if I wanted to go to the meeting, how does he expect me to get there? He knows my family only has one car - I told him this. Obviously my family needs that car for work on a Friday morning, so… what does he want me to do?

4. I already know that I’m falling behind. It’s the only thing he’s ever said to me, the dipshit.

5. How the fuck did he get my cell phone number?

Just as I finished collecting my thoughts, the phone rang again. I looked at the number. It was him.

Me: “What do you want?”
Mr. B.: “Katie?”
Me: “Who else would it be?”
Mr. B.: “This is Mr. B.”
Me: “Does not compute.”
Mr. B.: “Mr. B., from the middle school.”
Me: “Oh. I’d ask what’s up but I don’t care.”
Mr. B.: “Anyway, are you coming to the meeting?”
Me: “Are you insane or just drunk? The meeting’s halfway over already. By the way, thanks for calling me at 5 AM. I’m totally going to be awake at that hour.”
Mr. B.: “So you’re not coming?”
Me: “Not even if you promised me free coffee.”
Mr. B.: “Well, just know that you are missing a lot of work and I’m disappointed in you.”
Me: “Not my problem.”
Mr. B.: “Yes it is, you are neglecting to do your work.”
Me: “No, you’re neglecting to inform me about the work.”
(silence)
Me: “Oh, come on, you set yourself up for that one.”
Mr. B.: “Shape up, young lady.”
Me: “Shape up, old man.”
Mr. B.: “Don’t get snarky with me.”
Me: “Don’t get stupid with me.”
Mr. B.: “Be at the next meeting.”
Me: “Are you going to tell me when it is now, or are you going to wait until 5 minutes before it starts?”
Mr. B.: “Goodbye, Katie.”
Me: “Goodbye, sir. Watch out for the door; if it’s as closed as your mind is, you’ll walk right into it.”

Satisfied with my quick wit and deadpan delivery, I hung up the phone and continued making my cereal.

But my phone rang again a few moments later. I didn’t pick up once I saw who it was (guess who), but I got a voicemail.

“You are out of line and I could get you in trouble this fast, you know that? I’m tired of you being irresponsible and rude.”

I called him back. Before he could even speak, I went off.

“You can get me in trouble? I don’t think so. This conversation is not taking place at school or during school hours. It’s not regulated by the school. So what are you going to do? Sue me for standing up for myself? Take me to court for pointing out your obvious flaws? Try again, buddy. It’s not my fault you’re neglecting to inform me about these things, and it’s therefore not my fault that you’re so upset. I’m placing all the blame on you, where it belongs. Don’t call me anymore unless it’s to say that I’m right, because I don’t want to have to stick my head any more up my ass in order to see your point of view.”

This morning (one day later), he called me again. I didn’t want to talk to him, but I knew that he would just keep calling, so I put on one of my fake accents and tried to confuse him.

Me: “Hello, dis Bob’s House of Chinese Chicken, for all you Chinese fast food needs. How I help?”
Mr. B.: “Hello, is Katie there?”
Me: “Hello? Bob’s House of Chinese Chicken. I can take you order?”
Mr. B.: “What? I’m trying to reach Katie.”
Me: “You want Chicken Char Siu? Chicken Char Siu only $24.99.”
Mr. B.: “No, I need to reach Katie! Do you know her?”
Me: “I know what you want. You want best deal on Chinese chicken in town. You come to right place!”
Mr. B.: “Sir, please put Katie on if she is there.”
Me: “You want make reservation? 24 hour in advance.”
Mr. B.: “IS KATIE THERE?”
Me (choking back laughter): “Today special is Charbroiled Chicken Ass, delicious ass of chicken only $32.89!”
Mr. B.: “SIR!”
Me: (uncontrollable laughter)
Mr. B.: “Fuck you.”

Wow. I know I was being immature, but really now. A middle school teacher swearing at a high school student on a weekend over the phone. Uncalled for.

And so the drama shall undoubtedly continue as the weeks go on. I predict a victory by me. After all, smart always triumphs over stupid.

I’m a person with a weird sense of humor. I enjoy dry wit and making mockeries of things.

So, of course, when it came time at school to elect the “Most Likely To Succeed”, I was ready to be funny. I think that “Most Likely To Succeed” things are stupid, because most of the time the winner winds up living in a trailer park, taking care of 13 kids and smoking 7 packs a day.

The day of the results, I was ready to play my pranks. Mr. or Ms. Successful would receive a handshake and many compliments from me, along with a request for an autograph. I would bow to them. I would treat them like royalty, and then rub it in their face 20 years from now at the high school reunion.

The plan was ready. But when the winners were announced, there was just one little problem.

I had been voted “Most Likely To Succeed”.

When my name was called, I sat for a few seconds, thinking. I couldn’t just let this go by without a laugh. Unacceptable!

My mind was working fast. I had to do something funny, but yet I was… happy at winning. Not just happy - elated. Thrilled. Liberated.

I had to be funny, though. So I decided to go out of character. Normally I’m pretty calm and serious. So I jumped to my feet and leaped into the air, throwing my fists into the air. I was yelling and cheering. This went on for about half a minute before I sat down to survey the damage.

I had caused the entire school - teachers and all - to burst into laughter. A couple of people asked me if I was aiming to win the coveted title of “Class Clown” as well.

So I was able to be funny after all. Shame my old plan didn’t work, though. I suppose I’ll save it for next year.

QUESTION OF THE WEEK: Have you ever been voted “Most Successful”, “Class Clown”, or the like? Were you expecting it or not?

For once in my life, I’m going to stop complaining about what is wrong with the world and start complaining about what is wrong with my life.

No, none of that “I’m fat and hideous and today my boyfriend of 3 hours dumped me because I’m fat and hideous” BS. This goes deeper than that. It goes into my brain. Wow, that’s so deep.

See, lately I’ve been looking at scholarship opportunities. Half of the scholarships I don’t qualify for because I don’t have a GPA (my school simply does pass-or-no-pass, none of that letter grade stuff). Another eighth I don’t qualify for because I am not of the proper race (where’s the white people scholarships, people?). Another fourth I don’t qualify for because I do no community service or any of that. I would, but no place around here will hire a kid my age, even if it’s not for paid work. I call BS on this in addition to the “fat and hideous” stuff.

That leaves an eighth of all available scholarships available that I can apply for. I have no interest in writing an essay about a cure for poverty, because my family is nearing it as it is, and if I had an idea for a cure for it, you’d be damn sure I would be doing it, not writing about it. Those remaining that I qualify for? There’s maybe 5 of them. I applied for those yesterday. Hoping for a response.

So what is wrong with scholarships? In principle, nothing. Free money to go live across the country and hang out on beautifully landscaped college campuses and eat ramen noodles. But in practice?

1. There aren’t any scholarships for white people. Black people, sure. Asian people, sure. Hispanics? Why not? But are there any German people scholarships? Any Irish people scholarships? Surely there’s an Italian people scholarship. No? Come on, scholarship people. You’re trying to make it easier on those who have endured racism in the past, but now you’re putting us white people through racism.
2. Many scholarships require you to have done community service/volunteer work. Many people have access to such opportunities. I do not. There ain’t a market for teenager work around here, volunteer or not. It’s not my fault, are you going to deny me free money because of it?

Actually, that’s all I can think of. But both of those things are limiting my options. When I grow up, I’m going to invent a scholarship for white people with limited opportunities. I’m going to help Katies everywhere go to their dream school (or at the very least, the community college down the street). How will I fund this? I don’t know. Rob a bank?

Today I walked into the bathroom at school and found myself a stall. I sat down only to find myself staring down onto the floor at a magazine. Somebody had left the latest People magazine on the floor of the bathroom. Of course, I’m a very suspicious person, so I wondered if somebody had poisoned the magazine and left it there for an unexpecting bathroom-goer. But I picked up the magazine anyway.

I was very curious, as I had never read a People magazine before. The phrase “Sexiest Man Alive” was plastered all over the cover, and it was accompanied with pictures of unsexy men. Wondering whether there would actually be sexy men inside, I flipped through the pages.

I didn’t see a single sexy man in there. I didn’t flip through the whole thing, but from what I saw there were lots of old guys and cigarette advertisements. Nothing remotely sexy. I wondered if People magazine always had crap in it.

I placed the People magazine back on the floor, deciding to leave it for someone else to take. Because I sure as hell didn’t want it.

It’s now fall break here in Hawaii. Normally my workaholic side takes over at the mention of the word “break” and is very upset at the prospect of no school for at least a week, but my lazy side has come through this time and just wants to sleep for the next week and a half.

Even with an energy drink and a coffee downed within a two-hour span, I have wanted nothing other than to sleep all day today. I started feeling rather ill around mid-day. I think it was the heat - it wasn’t that hot at all, but somehow it felt scorching. I just felt exhausted and started sweating from head to toe. The water at school was shut off, but I desperately needed a drink. I began thinking I was having a heat stroke, and that made me panic even more. I retreated to an air-conditioned classroom, but I was still about to faint. And I thought sinus infections felt like death. Can’t wait till Denver in the winter. Freezing temperatures will be nice.

As much as I want to like all my teachers, there’s just one I can’t stand. She hates me because - get this - I’m a better writer than she is. Jealousy kicks in and thus she rips apart everything I write. It’s so ridiculous. Oh well, you can’t win all the time. If there’s ever a blotch on my report card, it’s not my fault. I blame the teacher - and that’s saying something as I’m pretty good at seeing things from a teacher’s point of view.

A few days ago my power randomly went out in the middle of the night. Pure darkness. All I could do was sleep. But when I awoke the next morning, I found that some TV channels that were previously unable to be picked up by the antenna were working. It’s so strange - that power outage gave me more channels. In a way I hate it for leaving me in the dark, but I love it because now channel surfing is more than flipping back and forth between two channels. Now it’s flipping back and forth between five!

I’ve slowly been making changes around the site. I’ve cleaned out stuff I don’t like anymore from the Writing and Art sections. I’ve redesigned the Me index so that you don’t see the list of links but instead the contents of the basics page. I’ve redone the Music page so it’s not as lengthy, and I’ve gotten rid of some old Me subpages so it’s neater now. Go check it out and tell me what you think.

While I’ve gotten work done online, in real life I’ve been so lethargic. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so listless in my life. I haven’t had the energy to do anything except put my head down and fall asleep during a science exam (no wonder I got a C!). I chose a really bad time to be tired - it was exam time. I had four exams in the last two weeks. I completely aced my Civics exam (95 out of 90 points), I almost aced my algebra exam (96 out of 100 points), I did kind of crap on my science exam (78 out of 100 points), and I failed my Hawaiian exam (12 out of 22 points). In October I have my PSATs too, so unless I drink 10 coffees a day from now on I’m in trouble.

But whatever. I still did way awesome on my Civics exam. I helped organize the test, so I got 5 extra points on it, but I would’ve aced it even without the points. I like Civics better than the other classes I have. Especially Hawaiian.

QUESTION OF THE WEEK: Will you be going anywhere this November/December? And where?
I’m going to Denver, Colorado in early November. It’s gonna be snowing. I haven’t seen snow since I was 2. It’s been a long time, but soon I shall see it again.

Recently I’ve taken up acrylic painting. I’ve been working on a large canvas - a black and white painting. I finished it today, and now my life feels so empty. Void of meaning. Okay, not really, but I’m bored as hell without my painting to work on.

Anybody else paint around here? I’ve been starved in terms of inspiration. I can find lots of great pictures online. The problem is getting them to load on dial-up so I can print them out. It’s depressing, not being able to see half the images online.

Half of my teachers said that I’m their all-time favorite student. Most of the others had no comment, and one had nothing but bad things to say. “Katie’s ideas are dull”, “Katie needs to speak out less”… oh my FUCKING god, I suppose I could come out with “exciting” (read: stupid-ass) ideas and be the stupid quiet kid in the corner who lurks and doesn’t talk to anybody even when they attempt to talk to her. Wow. Excuse me for having opinions.

Speaking of opinions, I’ve been getting really pissy about anything and everything lately. Thus, there’s a new article in the Writings section that you should, like, check out. I want to get it published sometime, cause I’m proud of it.

I’m too bored to write, believe it or not. Laters everyone.

Call it a CV, a resume, or Bob - it’s not easy to write one of those things. There’s the “goal” element, which is tricky. Honestly, I don’t care about how enlightening it will be to work at Taco Bell. I just want something to do Friday afternoons and I want some cash. Job experience? I’m a 14 year old high school student, what makes you think I have any experience in flipping burgers? I haven’t had an opportunity to gain any! Skills… uh, well, I can play a mean scale on the guitar, but that’s not going to help me ring up paper towels at Wal-Mart, will it? What kind of skills do you need at Wal-Mart anyway?

Rant aside, writing a resume is hard. I had to write one to secure my job at an elementary school, and now I have to write another one as part of a class assignment. We got a handout for this assignment, including a sample resume. I think I can safely say it was terrible. In the resume I wrote up, I listed honors I had received, along with a couple of sentences about each honor (like, “January, 2007 - Mock Trial Program - Received Judge’s Accolades for Best Witness in Round 1″ and then I wrote the role I played and stuff like that). In the sample resume, it said something like “2006 - Valedictorian” and then a bunch of random numbers. The only thing I could think was “What… the… fuck.” What are the numbers, which school named you valedictorian, what is the point of putting that down if you’re not going to explain it?

Really, now, is this what we’re being taught? How to write shoddy resumes that will ensure nothing but unemployment? It’s freaking “How Not To Write A Resume 101″! I’ll make a great teacher. I’m so innovative. I challenge the material. I’m not always right, but in this case I think I am. I am righteous!

So, to spoof the popular joke “How to make a website” articles (you know, “have big glitter fonts, embed music, etc.”), I have written an article as well, aptly titled “How to write a resume”. Examples taken right from my assignment handout.

1. Have a big fat list of accomplishments - and nothing else. Quantity over quality! No employer wants to know which school put you in AP Chemistry. All they care about is you looking impressive, dash the details.
2. You’ve got your list - now scatter its contents! No organization. Surprise is key. March 2007 - assembly presenter. Then right after that, August 2005 - Valedictorian! And of course, top it off with October 1997 - Graduated elementary school. Chronologi- blah blah blah. Who cares about order?
3. Misspell your own name - 7 times. Type it once, and copy-paste it for efficiency. Amelia should be Amnellia. Spell checking is so 2005.
4. Express yourself. Professional what? 5 exclamation points after your name is cute, damn it! Let’s not forget SMILEY FACES~!!!!!
5. Include an entire bit about crayons. “The Crayola factory manufactures approximately 70000 crayons a day, and the crayons come in over 200 colors. Crayola currently employs 20000 factory workers to make the crayon quota…” No need to restrain yourself. Crayons are good, which brings me to…
6. Leave marks all over your resume which look like they might be crayon doodles. Remember kindergarten and My Little Pony coloring books? Reminisce, for job applying is the perfect occasion.

Now that I think about it, I might have left the crayon marks, but the rest was already on that handout. I propose more funding for educational materials - namely proper handouts that aren’t littered with errors. If this continues, high school dropouts may get better jobs than those who graduate and learn this crap.

Ever since last Wednesday, I’ve had a cold. A bad one. I’ve had plenty of colds, but this one was awful. I was congested - so much so that I had to sleep with my mouth hanging open so I wouldn’t suffocate at night. Thus, the next morning I had a sore throat, along with the trademark watery eyes and runny nose. Nothing I did would get rid of my cold. I went to school with my cold just ’cause that’s what I do. I work no matter what. I was bubbly and bouncy too, but I couldn’t do much because of my cold. I slept and rested and slept and took medicine and everything. Nothing worked.

On Saturday, a few days after contracting this hideous virus, I went to the movies. There’s a local theater where you get 50 cent mattinee tickets, so I went to see I Now Pronounce You Chuck And Larry. It was hilarious. After coming out of the movie, I felt better. Not congested or ill in the slightest.

So if you have a cold, try going to the movies. Maybe it was the laughing, maybe it was the nachos, or maybe it was just magic, but the movies made me better.

I adopted 6 baby ducks the other day. They’re so yellow, they’re green. I named one Johnny and one Joe. The others are yet-unnamed. I also started a new hobby - painting. I’ve painted a small canvas and a giant one that’s almost as tall as I am. I’m starting a new one, and it’s huge as well - about three feet wide. I’ll have to put up some pictures soon.

There’s about a one in three chance I’m going to Denver, Colorado in November for a week. Another school trip, but it’s like hell, yeah! I love snow, and you can’t possibly tell me that Colorado doesn’t have several feet of snow in the winter.

I’m related to a lot of famous people, it turns out. My cousin Jim is the assistant head coach of the Seattle Seahawks, a big-time football (or soccer for you non-US-ers) team. His father and my other cousin, also named Jim, was also a big-time football coach before retiring. He coached the New Orleans Saints and the Indianapolis Colts. He was a bit of a bigmouth, though he’s coined a few famous football terms and was featured many times in sports bloopers videos. Then there’s old cousin Melvin, who’s third baseman for the Baltimore Orioles Major League Baseball team. And before dying, my cousin George Wallace and his wife were governors of Alabama and ran for president of the United States. I read about him, and he was for racial segregation. Dumbass. And who could forget great-great-great (etc… or maybe not, I dunno) grandfather, the man himself, Alexander Graham Bell. Patented the telephone, he did. You are all forever indebted to my family.

I really want some Orange Gatorade right now. Who’s with me?!

Everybody scroll down to the very, very bottom of the page.

There’s a gradient there. See? SEE?! I don’t know why I’m so proud of it, but it’s there and I’m proud of it. It took a long time, too. Wordpress’ default CSS (which this layout is based off of) is seriously bloated. There’s about 3 different footer styles that could easily be combined into one, there’s a section for list elements yet there’s list element styles scattered throughout the stylesheet… GAWSH. But yeah. You should go check out the gradient. It’s really kickass.

Uh, unless you want to seriously kill your internet connection, I would strongly advise against clicking on the photography link. I’m doing a revamp of it and it appears that I forgot to resize a lot of the photos. They’re huge. I’m working on getting the sizes down. Hopefully by Sunday they’ll all be good.

School ended today. I am in such a bad mood. It was so upsetting, seeing it end. Damn, I’m a sophomore now. It’s so hard to believe. I miss all (well, most of… there’s a couple of skanks the world could do without) my classmates already, and I’ve only been out for 5 hours. I’m counting the days till Miami (four weeks away if I’m not terribly mistaken).

I’ve had a rather active week. On the first day of my school trip, I hiked about four miles, went to the skate park and slid down the ramps on my butt for hours (eventually caused a giant hole to rip on my pants, had to be fixed with duct tape), played softball, played ping-pong, played basketball, played tag, and trudged through the jungle looking for a tennis ball that went missing. I couldn’t eat that day either - they ran out of food. Shame on them. I went hungry. On the second day, I hiked another four miles, and somehow injured both of my legs (I got some food that day, though). The bones in my front thighs and calves hurt so bad, I couldn’t walk, and my back felt awful as well. Today I walked about two miles, played freeze tag, and jumped around a lot. I got so much exercise. It’s kind of insane.

I completely dare every one of you to say this as fast as you possibly can:

There’s a man and a knife and a knife and a fork and a fork and a plate and a plate and a fish and a fish and a frog and a frog and a flea and a flea and a twig and a twig on a log and a log in a hole in the bottom of the sea.

I can say it in under 5 seconds. The important thing to remember is that besides the man, the hole, and the bottom of the sea, everything repeats itself, separated by a “and a”. I performed it for a couple hundred people today (along with hosting an entire program - which I found out I was doing 5 minutes before it commenced). I screwed up, naturally. I got the flea and the twig mixed up.