I am now in a higher level French class, with a lovely teacher who is a Whovian, Sherlockian, and a fan of British everything. So we get along grandly. She loves gingerbread cookies, I love making gingerbread. I want to be her when I grow up.
I still have a lot of free time in her class, though.
So here we are.
The following information is now obsolete.It was what was first on this page.
It all started last semester, when I found out my counselor had put me in French 2.
"But Ms. C, I should be in French 4 AP! I already took this class! I already know French!" I said.
"La-dee-dah," she said, "I am a busy, busy woman! I have no time for your childish tantrums! Sweetie, you should be grateful! At least you'll get an A."
That last sentence was a direct quote. The rest was just to emphasize how she completely ignored me and didn't even try to solve my problem.
So what to do during those two and a half hours of boredom... hm... anything but learn, of course.
No paying attention, that would bore me to death. (yet I get a higher grade than most...)
So, I do a lot of thinking, praying, writing... blocking out the voice of my neurotic teacher who only brags about her trips to PAH-ree and mispronounces every word in the beautiful language she is trying so hard to teach us.
Anyway, when I have nothing to do, my mind goes on creative rampages...
These are the results.
