On Fresh off the Boat in the last episode that was on yesterday Jessica wrote a story with herself as the main character with a similar name. Which my dad didn’t get for some reason. I thought that was really funny! It was like my Carmen Sandiego fan fiction. Which of course my dad has not read. Well I would not want him to read it. I think I did read some of it to him when we were moving, and I was bored. I wrote it by hand on paper. I think he wasn’t listening because he was listening to baseball. The portion I seemingly read to him was mostly dialogue driven anyway.

I forgot to mention the free taco on Wednesday, November 2nd from Taco Bell.

I was wearing my Harley Quinn shirt with an odango hairstyle with the miss matched scrunchies in red and black. I’ve worn this before. I like it. I think it is a fun look. I think I’ll wear odangos on Halloween too. I might want to curl my hair anyway for the costume I’m going to wear later. Odangos are good for curling your hair especially if you use a lot of product on them.

It made me think about when the cheerleaders in high school used to curl their hair for 1-2 days and wear a pile of curlers on their head in a bun with a scarf on top. That was one of those mysteries of high school things. I never saw anybody do that before or after high school. I mean in the grades. My mom who was out of touch with high school things by then wondered why they did that. I had to explain that to her. As I was writing about it and how it looked. The strange thing was that I could not find any pictures of it online. I thought there would have been something even if it was an outdated way to curl hair. Like in a tutorial or something. Or even some kind of nostalgia site like: “Remember when cheerleaders wore lumpy curler buns on their heads? “Here is a crudely drawn representation in paint.

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It sort of looks like a samurai or something.

I wasn’t even sure what we were going to do in class. So I panic read part of the next chapter on the bus. I figured I could do the vocal exercises at home later.

I was not sure where we were meeting so I was like “Oh hell! I’ll just go to the regular room and if there is a notice or something I’ll leave.” When I get there I don’t see a notice on the door. I see him inside. So I go in and ask. I thought maybe we were doing that whole class round up thing and then going to the building, but we didn’t.

I got my test back and it was a “B”. I was so relieved! I thought I was gonna get a bad grade. I thought he was a harsh grader. A lot of the questions I missed were dumb things I forgot about or to answer. But I’m happy with my grade I’m not gonna stress out about it. Does he think I’m a neurotic student? Well he’s right because I am sort of. Did he sense this? Or maybe it’s because I ask a lot of questions.

The school keeps changing their website. And we don’t know how to access files and stuff. Then they complain that we don’t know what we are doing.

He said we could do an assignment if we had a flash drive on us. I don’t have a flash drive on me all the time and I guess I should. It didn’t matter because all that meant was that I could not do the assignment now.

Somebody asked the teacher if they could wear a Halloween costume to the next class which is Monday and he said something like “I don’t care.” Which for some reason I thought was funny. I think I might have even laughed at it. I’m not wearing a costume, but I will wear a Halloween t-shirt and hair clips. I wanted to dress up and wear makeup, but I didn’t want to deal with wearing makeup on the bus. Maybe if I drove a car. I’d probably go all out.

We have to present a poem or children’s story. He said we could write our own. Don’t tell me that! I salivate at the thought. I was trying to figure out what to do. Should I write a poem or kids’ story or just find something else? I bet I could rework something I had previously wrote. I’m lookin’ at you theater class monologues. I was thinking something along the lines of “Follow me to Heaven”, but you know not to rip off Sean’s song.

Perhaps I should share my writing? I’m just not sure what exactly to share. It’s like you’re out there and you’ve just been cut open to bleed in front of a crowd of people. Personally I find that a little nerve racking. I might be too intimate with my writing, my babies.

If worse comes to worse I found a great poem about writing written by somebody else.

First there was blackboard, then studio classroom, then moodlerooms, and now it’s canvas. I can’t even sign into the site or make an account. Your teacher has to do it for you. Why does everything have to be so complicated?