I May Not Play Soccer, But I Sure Love Kicking Balls.

Ah.....the much-awaited February Break has arrived. Finally. Let's take a quick recap of this past week, shall we?

Monday-2/14/11

Oh that was Valentine's Day, wasn't it? Well, you've already heard about that. And if you haven't, then take a looksy at how fantastic my Valentine's Day was here.

Tuesday-2/15/11

Hmm. Tuesday was pretty boring, as far as I can remember...

Wednesday-2/16/11

My ice skating trip. I fell about 4-5 times. I wish I had been braver. The first time my friends and I made it out to the ice, we literally went around the entire Olympic-sized ice skating rink clinging for our dear lives against the railings. Not a fun time, I can assure you.

The second time we went out, my friend Cindy and I decided to be braver. We decided that since we had already fallen a few times and realized we were still alive, then we were just going to let go of the railings and try to skate by ourselves, no matter if we fall.

Welp. We tried. And we fell. And we went back to the railings.

The third time I went, I went with my friend Diane. By this time, my feet were hurting like hell (those skates are painful), my back hurt from bending, and my knees stung from getting back up to my feet from the ice (The proper way to get up from the ice if you fall is to get on your knees). My point is, I really did not want to go back out to that Rink of Doom.

What can I say? I'm despicably nice, and I suffered the above for the sake of my friend.

Screw you, Diane!

But at least the day ended well. My friends and I were sitting on the bleachers eating lunch, and these young guys (ranging from sixteen to twenty) started skating expertly. And they were going fast.

And let me tell you. There is nothing better than watching a bunch of hot, young guys ice skating. It's soothing for the eyes.

I would've liked to gone home and sleep that day, but I had an Open House - Orientation thing-a-ma-jig at that amazing school that I got accepted into. Ugh. Two hours to and from the place on subway. Tiring...

At least when I got home I found out that I had won a writing competition that I had entered. Yay me!

Thursday-2/17/11

It was a half-day due to Parent-Teacher Conferences. We have one every marking period, not sure why. So, classes were dismissed at 11:30. Unlike the other kids who ran out of school yesterday, I was stuck there.

WHY, you ask? There are two sessions for Parent-Teacher Conferences. There's an Afternoon Session, which starts at 12:30. And then there's an evening session, which starts at 6:30. Usually, my parents attend the evening session. I totally support their decision, because it's so much more crowded in the evening, and a lot more fun. There's always a few hotheaded parents yelling at hotheaded teachers. And let me make this clear: Watching two hotheaded adults argue and scream it out is better than a UFC wrestling match. I'm dead serious.


Unfortunately, my parents decided to attend the afternoon session this time. Which was a letdown, since the evening session is like a big party. But what was more of a letdown was the fact that my dad told me to stay in school until 12:30, the time they would be coming.

"Um, Dad? You do realize that my school ends at 11:30? And conferences start at 12:30?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Er...that's a whole hour's difference. Where would I go for an hour after school?"

"I don't know. Find someplace. It's a school."

Originally, I had been planning to go to the nearby deli until my parents came, a place where a lot of people hung out after school. However, I found a place to stay later.

My Yearbook teacher -- Mrs. Reda's -- room!

I was excited about this, because I was Mrs. Reda's absolute favorite student, and she could talk to me for hours, and everything I said or did wooed her. I was ready to make her fall in love with me even more. (In a teacher-student way. Get that, perverts?)

It was a nice time. I cleaned her room in preparation for the parents by washing the boards, straightening the desks, brooming the floor, and a bunch of other stuff. And all the while, Mrs. Reda would talk about me to anyone that passed by, even if it wasn't someone I knew. This got be embarassing, because she would say, "Oh, Eeshie got into one of the best schools in New York City" or "Eeshie won a very prestigious writing award" or "Eeshie got a 100% average this marking period" or "Eeshie saved my life by slaying a dragon that was about to eat me when we went back to medieval times last week. And, she cooked me some brownies!"

At first I blushed, then it got annoying, and then I would leave the room "for an errand" every time I saw someone walking up the hall towards Mrs. Reda's classroom.

But we talked a lot. We talked about pretty much everything, ranging from our futures, our pasts, Obama's presidency, the jobs and lives of her children, and everything else in between. She's Republican. Blah.

Eventually, my parents came and I got my report card.

Yearbook: 95%
Math: 95%
English: 95%
Social Studies: 90%, later changed to a 95%
Physical Education: 95%
Spanish: 99%
Science: 100%


I was pretty happy with it, but I did not like that 90% for Social Studies. Especially when I had gotten 100% on every one of her quizzes. And, might I mention, my darn teacher gives us absolutely no work to do. She doesn't even teach. We just go in and sit down and start talking to our friends. There's really nothing to do. Some days, she doesn't even talk to us!

So, I was rather surprised (and angry) about the 90%.

When we got into her classroom, my parents and her were just kind of staring at each other. Then, she broke the silence.

"How is her report card?"

My dad handed her the grades. She barely glanced at it before answering, "Well she made it into Honor Roll."

My dad bit his lip. "Yes, she made it into Honor Roll.....but we wondering why she got a 90%. She's never gotten anything like that before. How are her test grades?"

I answered for the teacher. "I've gotten a 100% on every one."

My dad looked at the teacher once again.

"Well, she talks a lot."

?!?

My dad turned to me. "You talk too much?" I couldn't even answer.

"Yes, she's more focused on socializing with friends than focusing on her studies."

Ummm....WHAT STUDIES?

"But Ms. Mandies, isn't ten points off a lot for just talking?" I asked.

"You want me to change it? I'll change it. I don't care," she said defiantly, as if we were challenging her or something. "What do you want me to change it to?"

My dad was just looking at her, a bit taken aback. "Well, I want you to give her what you think she deserves."

"I thought she deserved a 90%, and that's what I gave her. But now you're telling me you want something different, so what do you want? I'll change it. I really don't care."

My dad was just staring at her. Then, he turned to me. "Well, what grade would you like?"

"Um...can I have a 95%?" I asked.

"Fine," she said, taking out her red pen and changing my grade to a 95%. "You better not talk in class."

"All right."

And that was that.

Grr. She just makes my blood boil!

Friday-2/18/11

Everyone was pretty hyper for break. ( I kept my mouth shut tight in social studies, just in case you were wondering...)

It was a pretty relaxing day. Periods 5 and 6, those who got accepted into one of the top eight schools of NYC were given a little party, pizza provided. There were about 24 people. I felt special.

XD

The rest of my Friday was not as relaxing. Around 6:30, we left the house to attend some religious sermon that my dad had heard about. None of us had ever heard of it, but he insisted that we attend the sermon.

As soon as we pulled out of the driveway, I was snoozin'. Maybe it was because of lack of sleep, or maybe it was because I'm like a baby where if you put me on wheels I fall fast asleep. But I was snoozin'.

I woke up to my mom calling my name, telling me to get out of the car. I blindly opened my door and stepped out, and saw that we were in the middle of the city.

"Where's the sermon?" I asked, my voice slurred.

Apparently, a nearby man wearing a too-small suit with a Bluetooth attached to his ear heard us. He was standing in front of an Indian Foods restaurant.

"The sermon is in here! The sermon is in here!"

We walked inside and saw your typical Indian Food restaurant. Loud, boisterous men laughing and chatting, young waitresses quietly serving food. We were all wondering the same thing: Where was the sermon?

The man seemed to read our minds. "Go down the stairs and just walk straight."

Stairs? Then I saw stairs leading down, hidden behind a table. It seemed suspicious, but we went down.

Downstairs, the restuarant continued, with more tables and chairs and people eating. If we were to go straight, we would come across a door. Were we supposed to go inside?

Yns, my brother, opened the door and led us inside. All I saw was white. A long, thin corredor stretched in front of us with white walls, white floorings, white ceilings, and white doors leading to other places.

Where the hell are we going?

We walked straight, and the corredor eventually spilled out to a big room, where the sermon was being held. Phew. I was beginning to think we were just going to some guy's basement, but whatever.

I'm not really sure what the point of this little recap was. All I know is that I shall be going to college for four days during this break! Don't know what I'm talking about? WELL. Remember this post?

What are your plans for break? (If you're having any)