Hi!

It's been a while. And I have no excuses for you. Let us forge on.

I have officially conquered my first week of the tenth grade. Being a sophomore feels a lot better than being a freshman. Even thought it's just a tiny step up, I can feel the power coursing through me. I can now yell "STUPID FRESHMEN!" at confused ninth graders. I can tell them what to do. I can make then do things for me. I AM ALIIIIIIIIIVE. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *cough*

Anyway, my classes for this tri-mester are:

1st hour: Band
2nd hour: CP Algebra 2
3rd hour: Spanish II
4th hour: American English
5th hour: CP Biology

Band's a great class to have. I don't have a text book or homework. Sometimes, it gets on my nerves but hey, I could never quit. Mr.Beson is my director. I've had him since the fifth grade so I know what to expect. Algebra II makes me nervous. I'm doing good so far but math and I.....don't get along very well. I have a compact man called Mr.Betway as a teacher. You can tell he's absolutely IN LOVE with all things numeric. He does a lot of board work, which is good, I'm usually a visual learner. Spanish is pie. PIE. Lots of homework though. I have the same teacher a I did last year. Senora Weber. The class is pretty boring but I manage to enjoy it on a regular basis. I'll always love English. And I just so happen to love my english teacher this year. She's witty and you can tell that she really cares about literature. Mrs.Barczyk. CP Biology is peachy. Mrs.Madigan is a bit odd but I like her. I sit right next to a good friend in that class so it's hilarious.

I own four cockatiels. Crackers, Peatree, Leia and Chips. Chips is a bastard. Really, he is one mean bird. We're under suspicion that he's pulling the feathers off of the other bird's heads. Yeah, he's in solitary isolation. We put him in a seperate cage and moved that cage in the upstairs office. He squawks almost constantly and is exhausted at night. He's constantly nervous. I feel bad for him. And today, my devil cat, Izzy, was pawing at him through the bars. I almost beat that cat. My Mom treats Izzy like her baby. He can do no wrong. So when I see him doing something bad, I punish him. He gets a slap on the butt. Chips was trembling. The poor baby. I sweet talked him down and gave him some treat millet spray. I wanted to cuddle him but uh, he's a mean bird. Yeah, he's stressed. I'm stressed. We're all tired. Goodnight.

Please stop.

It's exhausting.