2003-02-19 - 9:33 a.m.

Well jeeze, that sure is funny Zach, aren't you usually in French Class at 9:30 on a Wednesday morning? Or for that matter, every fucking weekday morning? First off, yes I am. Second off, watch the language. So why am I here? WHY am I SWEATING in this DAMN Computer Cluster forged by Satan himself? Why did I have the bowl Bart? WHY DID I HAVE THE BOWL? Sigh. Damn high-falutin' think they're better than me even though morally they are I mean who isn't right but that doesn't make me less annoyed especially since my secret crush didn't even jump ship when I decided to unstorm the god damned Bastille not to mention . . . perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself.

Argh. Arrrgh. I'm still too close to the event and I should calm down before writing about it, but screw it, I have limited time today as it is, so we must forge ahead with a pitcher of orange soda and some rice krispy treats. So I show up to class this morning. Early. Yes, early - since I woke up EARLY to get my French homework done. And then wipe the snow off my car for the 13th time in as many hours. So I got to the snow bowl that is A-Lot and got inside Nizzity-Nesmith in plenty of time for class. So in time that I was the first one there. Bam! So I sit there and one of the girls from last year's section came in and I talked to her. Section 2's stay tight. [Slam. Stop. The Brakes. Quick background: French 401/402 is a year long course. It's broken up into two sections. 1st Semester is French 401 Section 1 and Section 2. 2nd Semester is French 402 Section 1 and Section 2. 1st Semester I was in Section 2. Most of the kids 2nd Semester stayed in their respective sections. I was forced to switch because of my schedule. I had heard tales that Section 1 was more, shall we say, studious than the melonheads that I was entrenched with each morning in Section 2. Too true. 4 other kids had to leave our old #2 and switch to #1 with me too. We tight. As I said above. We also can't get over how smart and nice and non-troublemakey and pay attentiony these Section 1 kids are. For the most part I've assimilated nicely with them. The assimilation process went smoother than I anticipated due to the hot girl I sit near (a.k.a. - Secret Crush) Everybody up to speed? That wasn't as quick as a background as I had hoped, but whatever] SO, this morning, everyone is slowly filing in and we're just shooting the shit about Shane's squirrel infestation. Seriously, we're that crazy. Come on, it was 9 AM, we're not at the top of our game people. Well, at least I'm not. So anyway, the class is about 65% full when this gray haired old toad comes sauntering (or soldering depending on where you're from - ie - School Street) in and asks us what our book for the class is called. I ask her, "Old Toad, why do you ask?" And she croaks, "Is it 'Voila'?" And I say, "Oui." And she ribbits, "So this is Anna's class?" And we all kinda glazenly nod yes. So then she tapes up this big green sign that says "ANNA IS OUT TODAY. CLASS HAS BEEN CANCELLED." Now, I don't know about you, but I don't see how this sign could be taken many different ways. This is how I took it: "Anna is out today. Also - Class, boring class which you are sitting your 9 AM hating, breakfest skipping, lazy ass in - yeah, that's cancelled." Apparently not everyone was wearing Zach's prescription OBVIOUS GLASSES. I don't know, perhaps they had OBLIVIOUS GLASSES. Cause this is how things then played out:

{Names barely changed to protect the barely innocent}

Zach: "Shuuuuuut up! Sweet. I am so lea . . ." [For some reason I always say Shut Up all slow and drawn out like when I hear good news. I don't know the fuck why. Same reason I say No when I am agreeing to something and mean yes - my wires are crossed up or something.]

Old Toad: "Anna did say that she would like if you guys went over your homework for the next hour in groups though. She said you could look over your Zap Mama worksheet too." [At this point I know what you're thinking. {"I'm fat." - Verks} No Verks, no one said that, even though we were thinking it. No, you were all thinking, what the motherfuck is a Zap Mama worksheet? You'd think Zach could explain to you what this nebulous Zap Mama worksheet is since he's been taking this cock class practically every day since September. Well I can't. I have no fucking clue what a Zap Mama worksheet is.]

Zach: "Oh. Ok. We will." [Old Toad then leaves the class to go hop back to her lily pad somewhere and doesn't, I need to make this clear, doesn't take attendance.]

Bippy: "Well, I guess we better work on our Zap Mama worksheets."

Zach: "What the hell is a Zap Mama worksheet anyway?"

Class: -Blank Stares At Zach-

Crappy: "Um . . . didn't you look at the Zap Mama Section on Blackboard this morning." [Blackboard is this thing online that is our "virtual classroom" - whoooooa! futuristic, that has our assignments and course documents and shit. I try to check it as little as possible]

Zach: "Um . . . obviously not."

Sticky: "Well, you can look on with my Zap Mama worksheet."

Zach: "Um, no thanks Sticky. You're too sticky."

Sticky: "I understand. I get that a lot."

Zach: -who's starting to pack up- "Soooooo. I guess we should just get going . . . [crickets] You know . . . going. [crickets] Leave. Pack up our stuff. Come back tomorrow. Ok? [crickets] Or not? Hello? [Seriously Clyde, these fuckpods were all just sitting there staring at me like so many lobsters were coming out of so many of my ears. And then Secret Crush comes in and sees me standing there in my best Mutiny Whipping pose and everyone staring at me slack-jawed with gummi bears drooling out of their maws.]

Secret Crush: "What's going on? Where's Anna?" [Isn't she cute? How she says, "Where's Anna?" Awwwww.]

Zach: "Anna not here. Something. Zap . . . Mama. Group. Or not. We can leave. Now. Not stay here. Don't have to stay here. Can go." [And you scamps thought I just talked like that on IM]

Brak: "IIIIIII dooooon't knoooow Zorak. I don't think my parents would like me drinkin' beer."

Fucky: "Enough of these non sequiters, I think we should sit here for the full hour and do the work Anna wanted us to do." [I should note here that Fucky is a fucking bitch and I hate her and for this class she is my arch-enemy and I shoot her hate rays all the live long day. Well, just from 9 to 10 each morning. But if I see her outside of class, oh yeah, you better believe that's a paddlin' . . . I mean hate rays.]

Zach: "Well we've all heard what Fucky's feelings are. I'm for leaving. There's no attendance. I'm sure we've all got work to do for other classes. I know I do. And I could use this time to get it done. So who's with me? [ So. Many. Fucking. Crickets. Seriously, I thought I was on Candid Camera. If this were Laconia, or hell, ANY OTHER CLASS I'VE EVER BEEN IN, my compadres and I would have been out the window as soon as we saw Old Toad tape that bitchin' flourescent green sign up. Perhaps we'd take the door if it was more the 3 floors up though.]

Secret Crush: "Well, I guess we could go. If you don't think we could get in trouble. [Listen to her. She's so cute. But all this "we" shit. Damn woman. Give me some space. Stop breathing down my neck. ("Thieves aren't breathing down you neck" - Ricky, via Charles Grodin)]

Konker:"Yeah. If I don't get in trouble . . . let's just go the library or somethin'" [Konker is a meathead of the meatiest variety, but he's so simple you feel bad for him.]

Zach: "Naw Konker, we won't get in trouble."

Fucky: "No Konker! No Secret Crush! Don't listen to his lies! The one called Zach from Section #2 [low fucking blow] hopes to lead you astray! Stay here. Work on your Zap Mama worksheet. Talk of chats and chiens and l'homards and canards. Yes my pretties, stay here, with me, the dykiest fuckpod to be found outside a Dairy Queen line."

Zach: "Ok. Seriously. Fucky, you suck ass. Who's with me? Flunky? Squinty? Paley? Squarey? Anyone."

-AND HE WALKED OUT ALONE. ALONE. WITH THE SUN AT HIS BACK AND THE SNOW IN HIS FACE. ALONE.-

Seriously people. What a bunch of asswipes. I can't believe they wouldn't come with me. Even just one of them! Especially the guys! I mean, I expect that kind of nerdy apprehension from the girls. But the guys?! They should have been all window jumping with me. And the guys and Secret Crush and the old #2's are all whispering to me, out of Fucky's earshot, "Don't worry, we won't tell on you, we promise." Whatever. I think they respect my courage to conduct a one man mutiny but have been under Fucky's butch boot heel for so long that they are too scared to defy her.

So that's my morning. And it's not even 11 yet. We're sandwiched here between a Markarian's 25th birthday yesterday and Shumway's 25th birthday tomorrow. I wish it was my birthday. I wish everyday was my birthday. But the Jehovah's Witnesses passed around some sort of fucking petition a few years ago making sure that would never pass. Fucking Jehovah's Witnesses. Hiding out down there at the end of Blueberry Lane. Think there so hot. Not dancing and not birthdaying. Well you know what - they're not hot. I hate them. The only thing they've ever done of note is have sex with Thomas Jiminez in the shower in 6th grade, and really, who hasn't done that?

God damn - if I never have to type in the code for italics EVER AGAIN, it will be too soon.

I know there was other stuff I wanted to write about such as my crippling frostbite and how Ben made it so I reeked everywhere I went on Monday and the big storm and being in charge at work, but that will have to wait until later. Assuming that I'm not brought up on treason charges by the French Department and sent to the guillotine. Fuckers.

It's been real,

Sydney Carton

ps-Some reactions to the above entry (more will be added as I receive them):

PierceCemetery (12:17:23 PM): it isn't suprising that a FRENCH class would just roll over and let people in charge tell them what to do . . . don't you have to buy white flags with your textbooks?

kellysweed (12:20:15 PM): fyi....i would have left with you.

brocktastic (12:17:52 PM): were you ever gonna tell me about secret crush?

katymarie7 (12:42:24 PM): how is it interactive? katymarie7 (12:43:04 PM): like if i say something funny you'll put me in?

P. D. Farmer: Your experience in class reminds me of a Twilight Zone episode. Your classmates are clearly either aliens or have been zombified.

M. Y. Peaslee: Look, I don't know what kind of school you go to but where I come from we would have stuck some chalk in the erasers, cheated off Rachel on our Zap Mamma papers, yelled out something in french that Mr. Fournier would have definitely found obscene and then gotten the fuck out of there. As a group! As a group!

F. W. Robie: I would have been one of the ones booing you as you stood at the front of the class: "Sit down you agitator! Let us do our French homework and eat our cheese!'"

�

<-- Back to the Salt Mines! - Onward, to the Bee-Mobile! -->

�