Drama... this stupid school is filled with drama! I wash my hands of it completely ((or will attempt to)).
In other news, I went to the cross country meet and realized how much I honestly missed it. I miss the camaraderie, the feeling of pure exhaustion after a race, the feeling of completion. I talked to the one ref and, evidently, he had worked at East for a while as a Driver's Ed teacher, before the infamous Mr. Dugan. He was really sweet because he let me ramble on about my grandfather, the school play, and marching band. What was even nicer was that the old guy actually seemed interested in what I talked about. It's a nice feeling when you know people don't dismiss you.
Lavelle's class was profound, once again. Well, I lied -- the beginning was hilarious. Dumbface Owen was speaking after the bell rang; but he did this in front of Lavelle. Lavelle raises his giant foot and kicks Owen's desk and says, "Shut up." That's the weird part; Lavelle doesn't yell. He has a very husky, dry voice that he can raise in volume, but he doesn't do what I would consider yelling. His voice manages to cut through all the noise and strike a note of fear into the hearts of students, but he doesn't shout.
I wish I had my very own flag
