Grammar

I am a person who is half disppointed and half relieved when it comes time to get back to school. Disappointed because, in that dreamy month of June, I have lots of plans to do something amazing, perhaps several amazing things over the course of those three months. And I do nothing. Basically, I read a lot. I write a lot. And guess what? That's nothing special, in case you hadn't noticed.
And relieved because I am utterly paranoid. (Almost Foaly-like paranoid.) During the summer, I get the strange feeling that everything I know is slowly but surely leaking out through my ears. I imagine the stuff as color coded: silvery-grey for math, bright red for social studies, etc. "Look, there's the Egyptian unit! Oh, remember that five-paragraph essay I wrote? And the poems!" It's awful. I feel really stupid.
This year, I'm relieved, mostly, to return to school, even if this year I'm entering an evil, evil grade, because of my grammar. It's suffering, and so is my spelling. I am a teenager, for Pete's sake, I should know how to spell 'know'. And I cannot stand spending much more time with my brother. (No offense.) I can't wait for the slightly less mature antics of my fellow classmates. (I can hear my mother scoffing. It's impossible to count how many times last year I said I hated going to school.) (At least there I can glower and scowl to my heart's content.)

Quote for Thursday, August 6, 2009:

"No matter how long you teach a fool, he still knows everything."

-Leonid S. Sukhorukov, All About Everything (2005)

(http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/School)