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We dissected frogs today, as I'm sure you can see from the subject. It actually was fun, though some of my classmates went overboard (*cough*Mark*cough* although none of you know who Mark is), and most frogs were missing some appendage by the end of class. Ours was missing a foot. Erin's group found the frog's brain, which is smaller than yours. (Oops. I meant the frog's toes.) Mark's frog was no more than a bag of guts after he was done with it. I did not dissect; I took notes. Everyone in the class went to get a breath of fresh air now and then, but some people even needed to leave the room. I suppose it was gross. Now that I think about what I was actually doing, I feel disgusting.
I go to a private school, so we have uniforms. I wear mine all the time and hardly bother with out of uniform days. Why? It's because I'm me, I suppose. Anyway, we were out of uniform today because we were dissecting frogs. I didn't remember until I was supposed to be in the car and going to school. So I took the clothes that were intended for soccer practice and changed into those in about ten seconds. Well, maybe it was slower, but I was late anyway. At school I remembered that I had forgotten my gym clothes, so I carried a pair of shorts in and just took off my sweatshirt for gym. We were only playing pickleball, so it really didn't matter if I had worn some great big poofy gown.
I also used the clothes for soccer. We needed to do killers (which, obviously, kill), and then we played "Cabeza Manos", a Spanish variant of Head Catch. I'm not sure about the punctuation, but at least I'm using capital letters. It's a game, in case none of you ghosties or demons have played it, in which a group of people (such as a soccer team) stands in a circle, with one person (a soccer coach) in the middle. The person in the middle throws the ball to the people on the outside, saying either "Head" or "Catch". To make life interesting, the people do the exact opposite, and if you don't, you're out. We play by effort sometimes (that is, if someone doesn't quite get it but obviously tried, they stay in). One of our coaches, who is from Guatemala, came up with "Cabeza Manos" ("Head Hands") and promised chiclets for the winners (Erin, and two other people).
Then I got a Subway sandwich (or my mom got me one), six inches of which is going to be tomorrow's lunch. I love Subway, but my sister hates it.
A side note: in the previous entry, I wrote what one could call an essay on the annoyingness (?) of my sister. Please do not take this as everyday behavior, as my sister is currently in one of her nice moods, and she is soon to be bothering me by looking over my shoulder. I could always pretend to be doing homework, though.
I shall (what a silly word) write more later, not that anyone except my faithful ghosties and demons will read it.
I go to a private school, so we have uniforms. I wear mine all the time and hardly bother with out of uniform days. Why? It's because I'm me, I suppose. Anyway, we were out of uniform today because we were dissecting frogs. I didn't remember until I was supposed to be in the car and going to school. So I took the clothes that were intended for soccer practice and changed into those in about ten seconds. Well, maybe it was slower, but I was late anyway. At school I remembered that I had forgotten my gym clothes, so I carried a pair of shorts in and just took off my sweatshirt for gym. We were only playing pickleball, so it really didn't matter if I had worn some great big poofy gown.
I also used the clothes for soccer. We needed to do killers (which, obviously, kill), and then we played "Cabeza Manos", a Spanish variant of Head Catch. I'm not sure about the punctuation, but at least I'm using capital letters. It's a game, in case none of you ghosties or demons have played it, in which a group of people (such as a soccer team) stands in a circle, with one person (a soccer coach) in the middle. The person in the middle throws the ball to the people on the outside, saying either "Head" or "Catch". To make life interesting, the people do the exact opposite, and if you don't, you're out. We play by effort sometimes (that is, if someone doesn't quite get it but obviously tried, they stay in). One of our coaches, who is from Guatemala, came up with "Cabeza Manos" ("Head Hands") and promised chiclets for the winners (Erin, and two other people).
Then I got a Subway sandwich (or my mom got me one), six inches of which is going to be tomorrow's lunch. I love Subway, but my sister hates it.
A side note: in the previous entry, I wrote what one could call an essay on the annoyingness (?) of my sister. Please do not take this as everyday behavior, as my sister is currently in one of her nice moods, and she is soon to be bothering me by looking over my shoulder. I could always pretend to be doing homework, though.
I shall (what a silly word) write more later, not that anyone except my faithful ghosties and demons will read it.
