Homework, Liars and Little Brothers

You know what I really don't like at all? The whole title for this post. Especially if the homework has to be writing a speech about someone I don't know or math that I don't understand, if said liars are former friends that I used to know like the back of my hand, and if my little brother is rude to my parents, and is absolutely completely conceited and won't take in any consideration for anything or anyone else no matter what the situation. 

Razor Burn = No Bueno

Oi Vey, razor burn hurts quite a bit. So do people burns. Those aren't fun either. At the moment, I'm sitting in the library as per usual, waiting for my boyfriend to get off work so we can go to our choir rehearsal tonight, which I am not so stoked about.. I already know the material and just want to go home where I can hear the rain on the roof while eating a fabulous dinner, do the studying I need to accomplish in order to pass this freaking math class and then pass the hell out when I'm done... just to wake up tomorrow morning to go to a freaking swim class that only lasts about 45 minutes and then take a bus home and then I can have the pleasure of going to a Giants game in honor of my mother's birthday. Ugh, I don't like the cold. Especially with razor burn on my thighs. It's prickly and hurts all at the same time. I go to scratch it and that makes it hurt even more. Oh joyous effing day for effing sure. I also don't like my math class. I mean, I'm glad I got into the same level of math that I left off on in high school even though I took two years off, but I really don't like how overly complicated my math teacher makes it all seem. And that just adds to the never ending headache of college GED and transfer requirements.  It makes things so much more complicated in life due to the fact that I have a strong feeling I am going to flunk this math exam I have next Tuesday and it's really not fun knowing that. Fack you logarithms and natural logs and inverses and other crap that is going to be in the test on Tuesday. It's not fair that I don't understand it. It's also not fair that my teacher goes over every section just one time and expects us to know it. I don't learn like that Mr. Utter! (Yes, that is my math teacher's name) Although you rock and are amusing in class with your wise-cracks and interesting way of phrasing things, I can't just learn by seeing you do it on the board once and then the homework.. I need it to happen over and over and over again in order for me to get it. I hate my brain sometimes. I wish I had a photographic memory, that would solve so many problems, you have no idea. *tear* ... add that to all of my life's problems and most would just dissolve. But life isn't that easy. Ever. For anyone. And I know death wouldn't solve anything.. it'd just make me feel worse wherever the heck I floated off too after my heart stopped beating becuase I'd feel ultra guilty for not outliving the family I've got and I'd want to kill myself all over again in the afterlife for making so many people miserable. I'm too much of a pansy to even come close to physically hurting myself on purpose anyways so it's not like that's going to happen in the first place. *sigh* I just really wish something in my head would just click and I'd hit some sort of enlightenment for math because I just don't understand it. Yeah sure I get the basics and can do most of beginning algebra and geometry, but beyond that I'm royally screwed to the wall, blindfolded with on ever-lasting powerful stream of ice water and gagged with a dirty sock that's been sitting in a dumpster for three years when it comes to understanding math.... I should be getting a text here in a minute saying that my boyfriend is done working for tonight and that means I need to get off this blog thingy and go to the music building portion of this campus. yay. -_-, Not stoked about the majority of life at the moment.. including my two minute trek from the library to the music department in the mist which will just make me colder than I am now and that means I'm going to have to sit and pseudo practice for a couple hours until my music director is satisfied in the music we're going to be singing. Eff-yeah baby. Totally NOT stoked. I yearn for home, not vocal sessions.

-Halo (insert irritated face here)