Ah Taria, you indeed have won. Then again, do any of us *really* win? Speaking of not winning...

Should it really be surprising how quickly the bitterness returns once one returns to summer school? It comes on so fast, I would almost need time lapse photography to capture the exact second I realize I am voluntarily driving to, and to add insult to injury, have PAID to return to this flourescent hell. Weight training has been nothing but a learning experience. As Lindsey so well puts it, "Take all your rage, and turn it into happiness. There. Now you're the happiest person in the world, and you may explode." For the first half of class, we're all required to (this one was a hard one to figure out...) weight train. There are two groups - actual, labeled, official groups - in this class. "Fitness" kids are just taking gym for the credits, and as an added bonus, recieve the blessing of becoming more fit in the process. "Activity" kids are training for some sport, and recieve the blessing of a harder workout. It's almost nice to see even the Activity kids get bitter when they are forced to lift things at 8 in the morning.

The second half of Weight Training is the "random games" half. Yesterday, we tried to play mat ball using only half of the gym (there was a basketball camp practicing on the other side... our gym teachers forgot they were going to be there). The game was mat ball... only most of the rules had been removed. Here is what was left:

1. When it is pitched to you, kick the ball in a direction - any direction. Even backward toward the line of your waiting teammates. There are no fouls, unless you kick the ball into baskball camp, in which case all action ceases until it is retrieved.

2. Once you have contacted the ball (physically - no thinking toward the ball) in some way, run to first base. Normal rules of mat ball apply when running the bases. Second base is the best camping area, because your slacker counterparts on the opposing team are standing in front of it, blocking it from the teacher's view.

And this was the complicated one. It took awhile for everyone to catch on to it, probably because it was hard to word it correctly... and it was a pretty dumb rule.

3. There are no traditional "outs." In this game, a player is out if they are not touching a base when the ball is returned to the center circle in which the pitcher is standing. In other words, if you tried to tag me with the ball, I could (in theory) take the ball into my possession and run the bases with it, scoring repeatedly until I tire or it is violently wrested from me.

Ah, sweet gym. I'm not sure how to describe Civics yet, only because Mr. Drummond's teaching style has changed dramatically from seventh grade and I can't tell if his neverending sarcasm means that he sympathizes with or is sickened by Lindsey and I. I can, however, say this: Lauren Banghart and Jen Cooper are in my class. May I present the future of America:

Jen: Something smells like feet!
Lauren: Yuck!
Jen: Feet smell so bad. They're gross. I just gave myself a pedicure yesterday.
Lauren: Oh no! I think it's me! I knew I shouldn't have worn these sandals!
Jen: Ooh! They're cute!
Lauren: My feet?
Jen: No, your sandals. Your feet smell.
Lauren: I got them from Bebe.
Jen: Your feet?
Lauren: My sandals! My feet are so gross.

And with this, I depart, to wash the dye from my hair. It has been three weeks since the salon job, and the color has faded so badly I did almost look blonde. I'm so glad I still have Hot Topic brand Blood Red to fall back on, even if washing it out does stain the tub. Good night, kids. See you all on the other side.