I'll try to make this an actual post because it's Saturday and I slept in til noon.

Man, I love chickens. There's this blog of note called "The Occasional Chicken" (I'm not putting a link there because I know you can find it on Blogger. It's like an Easter egg hunt!) and this dude not only has three chickens in his yard that he raises, but he lives in Oregon and you all know how obsessed I am with the northwest. If you don't then now you do.

Anyhoo, I think I'll tell you about school before Parental realizes I'm not cleaning like I said I would because my room is home to approximately 3 large clothes nests like gorilla nests on Tarzan. Don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about. And the last time I left my clothes around for this long I think they either petrified, got peed on by some arrogant, white, fluffy bundles of frustration and cuteness, or got invaded by spiders and little black beetles that can be killed by spray-on sunscreen.

So school's been in for about 2 weeks as of yesterday. Besides the work, things are going average. Meeting people. Art class (heaven). Essays. Grown, bald men with facial hair *pointedly looks at math teacher and frowns*. A grown, short woman who has an irregularly proportioned body and stick legs. A bus that makes me want to punch a baby seal in the thigh. Pretty much the usual.

A few jackwagons sit near me and they get on my nerves, but I keep it at bay by thinking to myself They will end up working at a Macy's or Burger King. It's all good. Even though half of my classes are AP. *not bragging at all. Nope.* Then there's this girl that sits behind me and breathes so loudly at random times. I don't understand it. It's like I'm comfortable and scribbling things on some paper and all the sudden

INHAAAALE

EXHAAAAAAAAALE

WHOOOOOOOSHEEEEEHHHH

Wide eyes. Frozen in place. Then, ever so subtly, I lean forward and scoot closer to the front of my desk. The kind-of okay person next to me doesn't notice. The jerkpan on the other side is still paying too much attention to his hat and BFF that sits across the class.

10 minutes later...

BREEEEEEATH 

EXHAAAAAAAAAAAAAALE 

Bill Murray uttering his last breath on Zombieland. This picture doesn't belong to me, I swear. Don't sue me.

Besides heavy breathing that sounds like a ghost speaking a dead language to me in my ear like on Paranormal Activity (which is almost the scariest movie of all time. If you really wanna pee your pants, watch The Fourth Kind. You won't sleep for 3 days and will never look at Alaska or the sky the same way again. Trust me, I watched it in Montana, which is the big sky state, at night, and I couldn't marvel at how pretty the moon was because all I could think was Oh God, oh God, ohgodohgodohgod the white owl is going to abduct me in the middle of the night and what if my sister is actually part alien? andd ohmygod that cat is looking at me and the grasshoppers are quiet what's happening?!?!? Wait, grasshoppers don't make noise.) *looks back at where the first parenthese is and continues to type* there isn't much awesomeness. I mean, I could tell you about why school buses are probably in the seventh circle of Hades...

Okay, so I've been riding the bus since I moved to Denver. It wasn't bad back then, but then in middle school it got pretty bad. By eighth grade I hated everybody on my bus, except for the select few who made me laugh or didn't talk and were polite. I mean, seriously our bus had people sitting on other people sometimes. I'm pretty sure they had to disguise a person as a backpack just to get a seat. AND THE PEOPLE. Oh, how I despise smaller people. Why do they think they're so cool? Why do they think playing Akon and Lady GaGa from their cell phones and shouting curse words at each other doesn't make me want to shove a nuclear missile in my eyeball? Why? Standing on your seat doesn't make anybody like you any more than they already do.

After some time of the smaller people being obnoxious, I would basically just get so infuriated (it was my God given right to sit by myself after 3 years at that school, not theirs and I hate people already) I either ignored them when they tried to talk to me or stated "NOBODY LIKES YOU," very loudly. Call me an a-hole, but I'm used to people avoiding each other and awkward silences that make me laugh on buses, not crazy banshees jumping around and screaming. I don't understand how they can't just be a wee bit mature or realize that when they make movies where aliens come to Earth and have to decide whether or not we get to live and then the aliens say "no, let's just get rid of them," it's those children's faults. We're all going to die because of middle schoolers. Isn't that wonderful?

Let's come back to the present state of my bus. More people. High school kids. Growing teenagers, filled with angst and arrogance, some wearing black jeans and hoodies even though it's still technically summer and some wearing tank tops that are way too small and shorts that will get them kidnapped. I harbor a few people I'm tolerant of, but otherwise I still hate everybody. The bus is literally at capacity every day. Thank God I am the first stop or I think I would go all Twilight vampire on them and rip someone's arm off. I don't much like touching other people either, so you can imagine how awkward it is when I have to ask two people if I can sit on the edge of the seat with my back to them and my backpack on my lap so the small Asian bus driver will be okay to drive since we can't sit on the floor. I would think that stupid, but there's a real possibility of a fire happening on my bus since it's almost always 124 degrees in there.

Now let's talk about my teachers.

They pretty much are all boring and/or creepy except for my art teacher, who is laid back and hilarious. Just the way she acts and talks is funny. She almost always looks like she's half awake (I can understand that; she has a son) and she talks randomly about how she used to live in Africa and past experiences. Shes' my favorite. She lets us listen to our music and she wears normal clothes, which is nice considering Mrs. Stick Leg Condescending wears skirts that make her look like a square with black frillyness and then two pencils sticking out.

As you can see, she has thick-heeled shoes. Her hands are badly drawn, of course, and I don't do noses. I blacked out that part in case someone ever did bring the school's attention. They can't prove anything!

Now I just have to hope she never finds out about this blog or I might have to go incognito and move. *crosses fingers* I could go under a new alias, like Sweden von Shnitzel. I think that would look good on a transcript, yeah?

One more thing: In a class of mine, we had an activity last week to get to know each other. It might have been the funniest 30 seconds of silence of my life. This group of about five went up to the front, all clutching their sheets in front of them and trying not to look uncomfortable. They began to mutter what they knew about one another, good-heartedly looking at each other in an attempt to get the attention off of themselves. Our teacher was asking her questions in her loud, shrill voice because every time one of them said something, it was followed by silence.

They were refusing to talk.

And, unfortunately or fortunately depending on how you look at it, I smile and grin and try not to giggle every time there's an awkward silence. I'm not sure why; I think it's to reassure everyone of my friendliness and to break the tension. So when they went up there and there was complete and utter silence, deafening and all, I would try to bite my smile and chew on my upper and bottom lip so I wouldn't look like a maniac. I almost lost it when one girl had the audacity to stare the teacher dead in the eye as if to dare her to ask another question. I eventually couldn't keep my smile down, so when the kid next to me saw me smiling, he sort of smiled with confusion, probably wondering why I found it funny and if he should find it funny too.

It was so awesome in the worst possible way. I had to hide behind my hair to keep from openly laughing or sighing in enjoyment after they could go sit down again. They just looked so relieved, like they'd evaded getting thrown off of a boat.

Mmm, school days.