Ahh. Summer. I’m unexcited about the prospect of not having school, possibly because school, sans the enjoyable social interaction it tends to bring, has taken itself home in the form of AP work. Maybe volunteering will be fun.
My last day of the first half of high school or the first five sixths of public education or the first two thirds of secondary school was dreary, or maybe just sleepy.
Trying to fall asleep bored me last night, so I read The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers. [It’s one of those AP books.] Though its speech was simple and sentences un-victorianly-convulted, the simple words described the characters’ emotions so deeply that by the 13th page, I could definitely hear the hollow heart of the deaf-mute Singer, latiendo con dolor para el salir de su compadre, el Greco del nombre muy muy largo.
Pedi a mis profesores a firmar mi anuario (yearbook). Magistra Narden lingua latina scripsit; Sra. Glunt firmo en espanol (pero, no lo entiendo completamente). Haec meam orationem probationis finis anni laudavit, sed Ms. Hill seemed to be annoyed by the haphazard stapling of the essay I wrote for her final. Magister physicae [Romans didn’t have chemistry, only “physical/natural sciences” Lali apellatur signed in a penmanship amazingly similar to Rebecca Gelerenter’s. Statua ludi linguae anglicae domus traxi, as well as two books that the school library was about to discard. I’ve been wanting to read those books too–Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead and Douglas Adam’s The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Too bad the font in the former is miniscule.
And OMG. This is so annoying. [I didn’t bomb the chem final like I expected.] It’s like that equivocal banana (green with spots) issue. Now I’m confused about calculating molarity of a weak acid. *mews*