Excessive Worrying: Junior Year?!

our school schedules are finally up on the fairfield school website. mine goes like this:

1. select choir (A day) / band (B day)
2. spanish 2 (love it)
3. composition (HOLY SHIT)
4. algebra 2 (FUCK)
5. advanced art (yay! i love you)
'A' lunch
forum
6. biology 2 (JESUS CHRIST)
7. P.E.

now, i must tell you how i feel about my seventh period class. in our school, we are required to take a physical education class. that's no big deal, i can deal with that... but if we're forced to exercise, we should have a choice as to how we do it. we used to be able to choose P.E. or weight training, and i enjoyed weight training. i've never been much for P.E. we've done it since elementary, and i was so relieved to be away from it for the last four years of school. now they've taken away weight training from us! we are young adults, and we should be learning to make decisions for ourselves. sure, "P.E. or weight training?" isn't really an important decision to make, but it's something.

it doesn't make sense to me how this is going to work. we've got a whole lot of students. when we had weight training and p.e., they sometimes had to split classes down the middle so that one half went to the weight room and the other stayed in the gym. now everyone's combined? how does that work! i would very much like to petition against this, but i've never petitioned against anything in my life (though i've always wanted to).

my whole schedule just looks more terrifying than any of them i've had so far. last year was as easy as an thirteen year old girl with no daddy. my classes were relaxed and sometimes fun. composition scares the crap out of me! i like to write, but i never finish what i start. i had this story in eighth grade that went on for 149 pages (though i admit that they were double-spaced), but that was just the beginning! if i had continued, there would be so much more to it. things don't just end. if you're writing a story about someone, it should go to the very end of their lives. their story doesn't just end, you know? it's just hard for me to end what i start writing. luckily, though, i have bethany in comp with me.

i always have ashley in my math class. it's really fortunate for me, because i stopped liking math after sixth grade. it was my favorite then, and i did really well, but then i got sent to advanced math the next year and decided that i hated it. it was no fun without mr. bradfield, whom i really liked for some reason. he was a good teacher, though the majority of students seemed to hate him. so i suffered through eighth grade math while i was in seventh grade, and then in eighth grade i started out with ninth grade math and eventually decided, "fuck it. i'm not doing my homework anymore," and opted out of advanced math. so, yeah, i took eighth grade math one and a half times.

so that's why it's great to have ashley in math with me. sometimes neither of us know what we're doing, but usually one of us knows something and then we work together to get the nerve to ask for help. and if we don't ask for help, it's usually her who knows what she's doing. i'm really great at some of the things that she doesn't know much about, but usually she's good with the majority of things, and i don't know what the fuck she's talking about. she's much better at math than i am.

biology 2 is another scary class. we don't have mrs. septer anymore, which depresses the hell out of me because she is the best teacher ever. not only is she fucking crazy, but she's really great at teaching and planting the facts in our brains. she doesn't just tell us that "this is how it is," but she tells us "this is how it is and here's an innuendo that'll help you remember it." i didn't speak to her much at all in the two years i had her, but on the last day of sophomore year, i spun around in the hall and yelled, "mrs. septer, i know i didn't talk to you or anything while in your classes, but i'm really going to miss having you." surprisingly, she replied with, "dani, i know what you mean. i always really looked forward to getting your papers and seeing all of your drawings and commentary. that's what i'll miss most about you."

i am lucky to have ashley and evan in my lunch shift, though i don't think ashley is happy about it. there is nothing that bethany and ashley hate more than being stuck with "the couple." evidently, no matter where we are or what we're doing, evan and i are all over each other. i hardly even notice anymore. it's just instinct at this point. my nerves just scream, "LOOK, IT'S EVAN! QUICK, GIVE HIM AN INAPPROPRIATELY SWEET HUG IN FRONT OF YOUR FRIENDS!" we try to be a bit more discreet with our school ground kisses, but once mrs. septer caught us and screamed very comically. she told the whole class that i had been "sucking face" in the hall, though evan and i only give little pecks good-bye before classes.

there are also the lunch ladies, who all have an eye on me because my grandma is a "substitute lunch lady" and knows them all very well. every lunch lady knows that i'm marilyn's granddaughter. i like the lunch ladies, though. the vegetable lady doesn't even bother with me anymore. she just gives me a look, and i grin and pass her repugnant green vomit. anyway, evan and i have to hide from the lunch ladies when we kiss after lunch or they'll tell my grandma. grandma has called me on more than one occasion just to tell me that i can't date until i'm thirty and that i had better not be kissing that boy because i'm giving him the wrong idea. she's not serious, of course, and she knows very well that i am dating evan. she's fun like that.

it's just scary to think that i've only got two more years before high school is done. i mean, i haven't even got my license. i am getting a car in a matter of days, though. i've already picked out my car creeper and everything! i don't know what to name him, but it'll hit me as soon as i buy him and strap him into my back seat. i'm getting a beamer. or... i think that's what it's called... it's a BMW, anyway. i'm spoiled out of my mind. i grew up poor and now my mom's the most well-known photographer in the area and now she can afford to spoil me, i guess. i feel bad, though, because i intended to pay for my car's insurance, but now the car's coming too soon and i still haven't got a job.

i've got marching band in three hours. phooey. evan's a drum major, did you know? it'll take some getting used to, but i think i'll eventually be happy to have him lurking around the field while we march. though last year he was only three places away from me and would walk over and hang all over me during breaks, even though we weren't dating. i'll miss that, but it won't be so different. and he can help me mark my music! because i'm going to make him help me. i would have bethany help, but she's so far away from me when we march. for a lot of the march, i'm the second closest person to the front of the field. bethany's in the middle. i'm happy, though, because i got placed in between one of my favorite sophomores and a timid freshman. my first words to her were, "hey, are you a freshman? are you terrified out of your mind by all of this?" and she was. i've introduced myself to her as the most incompetent upperclassman in the band. i've told my sophomore that he is my guide, and that all of my steps will be his responsibility. i'm not going to be the asshole upperclassman that screams at the underclassman about being half a step off of where they should be. i'm not such a moron that i can't tell what's right and what's wrong about marching - it comes naturally after a certain point - but i'm not going to scream at poor, scared freshmen.

i can't, actually, because that would make me a total and complete hypocrite.