April 04, 2003 - 5:31 pm
I�m in a sour mood. A nasty, evil, sour mood. I�ve been in this mood since the moment my eyes cracked open. I blame the Nyquil. Sometimes, when I take the Nyquil I wake up the next morning feeling all weird and groggy and unnatural. Somehow I managed to get myself out of bed and off to class. I�m actually quite proud of myself for that. 70 percent of me wanted to stay in bed. Another 15 percent knew that I should get my ass in the shower. The last 15 percent really wanted to break into �Sun and Moon� from Miss Saigon but thankfully, that never happened.
School didn�t ameliorate the situation. You remember Nikki, don�t you? Things have gotten worse. She no longer just annoys me. Now, when I look at her, the flames of Hell rage up inside of me and I�m forced to break my stare before I�m tempted to jump up out of my seat and rip her ugly little face off. I�ve composed a bulleted list of things that I don�t like about her that I plan on reciting to her come graduation day. I present to you now an excerpt from aforementioned list:
- You�re ugly
- You smell like shit
- You have greasy hair that most likely hasn�t been washed properly in months.
- You�re stupid
- You�ll never amount to anything
- You�re a terrible mother
The list goes on and I�m sure I will be adding to it in the months to come. For now, just writing the list makes me feel good. The mere thought of telling it to her almost brings a tear of joy to my little eye.
Hello, I�m still the projected valedictorian of my class. Eight months and running, six months to go.
I got a 95 on the last project I turned in. The highest grade he awarded was a 95. Nikki also got a 95. The only difference between my 95 and her 95 is that I did all of the work for my 95 all by myself. She, on the other hand, cons poor, unsuspecting lab instructors into doing the work for her. She�s a whore like that. I want her dead.
My blood is boiling again. Do you see what she does to me?
Once, in one of my earlier classes, we had to design an interface for a website. She opted to do a website for an artist friend of hers. It would be an �Online Gallery�. It looked like this. Each of the black squares represents one of her artist friend�s works. When questioned by the teacher why she opted to place all of the thumbnails onto the page in such a haphazard manner she responded with, �Because when you walk into an art gallery you see everything at once.� Honestly, I can�t even comment on that. I can�t. Wait, I can. YOU STUPID FUCKING IDIOT WHAT TYPE OF ART GALLERIES DO YOU FREQUENT WHERE THEY THROW EVERY SINGLE PIECE OF ART UP ON ONE GIANT UGLY GRADIENT WALL???
I�m too worked up. I can�t go on. Wait! I can! I can go on and I will!
She once cried to one of my fellow classmates in lab. She was blubbering something about how she couldn�t understand why her work isn�t better received. She said, �I don�t get it! I think I�m putting out some of the best work in the class! I don�t understand why I�m not being recognized!� Oh, you�re being recognized all right! You�re recognized school-wide as the crazy motherfucking ugly-ass bitch who drags her unfortunate little seven-year-old son to class with her because she refuses to pay for daycare or for a baby sitter because she�s opted to pay thirty thousand dollars that she doesn�t have to go to a school for something that she knows nothing about! How�s that for recognition?
Honestly, if I don�t stop know I never will.
Ta da
