Just imagine.

I haven't had much to say lately, I guess, but I feel like I should write just to keep up the tradition.
Tradition. Ha.

I'm changing my classes around at term. I'm incredibly excited.
I'll have AP World History now, and I'll be able to drop Sports Medicine.
OH, JOY AND RAPTURE.
Seriously.
My Sports Medicine class consists of the most annoying, inane drivel I've had the ever-so-concentrated patience to sit through without being taken away in a straightjacket.

For a taste of the torture, try not only forcibly removing your brain, but then pushing it through a fat, pink sieve where all the holes are filled with sharp little rocks. Next, douse the lacerated pieces in oil and set them on fire, preferably using an acetylene torch. When operating the torch, do not use protective gear. When satisfied (in other words, when your flesh has been thoroughly melted off), toss the burning, bleeding, oiled brain pieces with some mayonnaise to make what may vaguely remind you of a salad. Then, eat it, or (better) force someone else to. When you/they throw up, use whatever's left as face cream and go on an important date. Hide the car keys so your date has no way to get home. He will scream that you're out of your mind. You are then allowed to take this quite literally, because what is left of your mind is now cooling on what is left of your face.

Don't get me wrong-- it isn't the subject matter that's so terrible. Sports medicine could really be an interesting topic to study if we had a teacher who could string a halfway coherent sentence together and didn't misdefine medical terms, poorly manage his time, read straight from a lesson plan he obviously didn't write (because he can't pronounce/spell/use/define half the words) or otherwise demonstrate every single symptom of a severe concussion: vacant stare, spasmodic body movements, emotional state out of proportion to a situation, incoherent speech, stumped expression when asked to answer an obvious question...
Let me give you an example.

GIRL (ME) IN SPORTS MEDICINE
Day 1
Mr. XXXX: "Can anyone think of any uses for athletic tape?"
Girl: "Prophylaxis?"
Mr. XXXX (characteristic vacant stare): "Well, at least we know someone can read out of the book. What about 'prevention?'"
*Girl looks down. First of all, she does not have a book. She becomes very frustrated, partly because her pet peeve is gross incompetency, but mostly because prophylaxis happens to MEAN prevention.

Now, imagine variations on this same scenario (or the one described in detail above) occurring every other day for two full months.

Do you understand why I'm euphoric to transfer out of this class?!?
I'm also excited to join World History.
I love history.
I find it totally hilarious.
I'm finished blogging.