I'm getting so frustrated with my Computer Graphics class. I love it, I really do. My 50's diner is turning out be really authentic and unique. I just don't see how B. got to be the teacher. She can't seem to keep track of anything and she doesn't act or show that she knows anything about computers. Dah! I hate having teachers that I don't feel compitent with. There should be a rule that says that all teachers need to know their subject, so that when a student asks a question they can actually have the skills to answer the question. *sigh* If Erik and Brock weren't in that class it would be absolutley miserable and not nearly as much fun. We have some awesome conversations, and Erik has got to be one of funniest guys that I know. We always get in trouble for laughing, but I mean, if she made the class interesting maybe we wouldn't get bored and start making our own entertainment. And they blame kids for everything. [Woah. I never thought about this till' now, but I can think of many other situations going on right now where kids are getting blamed for lame things] Whatever. My life is way too cool to allow uncool stuff like that bother me. The swim meet was alright. I definitley wasn't motivated at first but as the meet proceeded I got really into it. Girls kicked trash. Same with the Guys. Our team is really good this year, it's wierd to hear Coach say that we could actually take Region because, well, it's never been like that any other year I've swam highschool. We were always lucky if we took people to State. It rocks, because it's my Senior year and, I don't know what that has to do with it, but I'm sure I'll think of something later. We went to Subway after. We are so effing cool! We got talking about old childhood games we played when we were little and something that I vividly remember, was Pogs! Do you guys remember when Pogs were so freaking sweet ,and you were only "cool" if you played them? Well, our conversation continued. I still own the ones that I played with and we decided that tomorrow, we're going to play pogs at lunch. We'll be so old school that everyone will want to be like us, and all of a sudden, we'll be gods and goddesses. Well, we thought it was a good plan anyways. Ha. ha. I told Bradey that his eyes sparkled like newly flushed toilet water. And Sara told him that he was a love machine. We are so effing hip.