June 8th, 2004

this is me

every letter started out broken-hearted

Italian final: 150 really fucking easy questions. I might have gotten one wrong. Yes, one.

French final: 150 really fucking painful questions. It went from easy (Trésor vocab and history) to medium (Le Petit Prince vocab and quotes) to literally impossible (grammar). Wow, I should have studied more during the year. Memorized a few things. Used flashcards. Too late now!

I am now studying furiously for my Trig final tomorrow. I have three review packets for the class, I am going to go in early tomorrow for more help, and I am going to fucking get a C in this class. I swear to God, I can't get a D. I can't.

It's going to be so weird to not have everyone from my French class in my class next year. The seniors graduated - so no more Margaret and Eric to entertain us all (not to mention Amy, Malissa and Diane to answer all of the questions!); Katie wouldn't be in the class even if she was going to take French 5 AP; Edith, Wing, and Joe are all shitty at the subject and won't go on; Kevin will be off with his independent study. It will be me and Alma and a bunch of random French 3 people. Bah this will suck.

Italian will be better next year, I hope. Manny won't be taking the class - and while he's a perfectly fine person, he's fucking irritating as hell. Mike won't be taking it, either, since the teacher hates him ("Chicken." "Pesto!" HAHA best quote of the year). Rosset hates the teacher, Kristy sucks, etc. Wow, next year is going to be weird.

Good luck on the rest of your finals, everyone.

...

Three more finals and I will be a senior.

Holy shit.
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