You win this round, Amanda. Amanda Wright. I bet you're the third Wright brother, except you're a sister. I'm sorry that came off as a botched lesbian joke but you have no idea the extent of my fury right now. It runs so deep that I ran to the library to blog about it and I'm literally looking over my back as I type to make sure nobody comes over to see the abominate sequences of words I will now construct regarding what you did.

Yeah, fifteen minutes ago you were leaving the CIS classroom and the teacher stopped you to commend you on your final project. You said "thanks", shrugged, and left. You ... YOU BITCH.

I stay up at night fantasizing about the kind of praise you idly discarded today, Amanda. I can't believe what you've done. You were given a gift higher than any other, and it meant nothing to you. How many times must you get commended on final projects, I wonder, to be so desensitized to something you should be endlessly proud of?

It's not only your ignorance I must question, but that of the professor's as well. What he's done today is the analogical equivalent of giving an alcoholic hobo (YOU) a crisp $100 bill and completely disregarding the famished orphan (ME). I would have assumed they have entire classes warning against people like you in teacher school.

You're in trouble now, Amanda. I'm starting my final project soon, and it's sure gonna kick the benjamins out of YOUR silly project. You will know my pain when the professor, a happily married man with 3 children, stops the class to spontaneously propose marriage ... to my brain. I hope you find this post, and I hope you cry.


This also has absolutely nothing to do with my newfound paranoia regarding failing my classes because of those nightmares I've been having lately. Not a goddamn thing.