Post by carscrashxx on Nov 3, 2006 23:23:11 GMT -6
Written in First person. //Out Of Character.
"'What is this class?" I asked out of nowhere to a complete stranger. He answered with a low tone I couldn't make out what it was, really. It sound as if it was French Class.. but than again, it could've been something else. As the teacher got up from her desk and started to write the homework, I darted in the classroom to find that there was an empty seat next to another one. I chose the one closet to the door... the one left of the high school jock that made everyone's life a living hell. I didn't bother to write down the homework; because I didn't need too. As I read aloud, it said: "None." Placing my head in my left palm, I let my arm's elbow hold my head up as the plump lady brushed her skirt and sat down once more, allowing us to read or do what else. Certainly, I grew bored by the second and wasn't really concerned that we were not going to begin untill about 10 minutes into the class.
I headed squinted my eyes to read the teacher's name which said: "Mrs. Janelle" or something. I really couldn't tell. Her handwriting was dreadful and really messy. I didn't really care. Luckily, this was a substitute and it wasn't long for people to toil with her mind and cause stress to her job. Of course, I thought that was really childish -- but actually very fun to participate in. As I jotted down a few scribbles in my notebook, I turned to have a veiw of the class. Since I was on the way left of the room, I could find that the majority of girls was greater than the boys. France must be somewhere girls want to go, most favorably. The slovenly bun of the teacher began to move again and she spoke with a clear French accent, "Bonjour." She seemed really sweet, conceivably... she could have a malicious mind with an relentless attitude. If we got too deafening, than that would bring out the thunderous matter in her and she would begin to act vociferous with a complete dote on her ambition of rambling on and on about how we acted like childish third graders eating paste. As I got bored, I murmured what seemed like a 'Bonjour' back. I waited for the first person to pull an antic on Mrs... whatever.
My conclusion: she was boring. I got through five minutes of the class already and I couldn't think anything up in French... not even English. Okay, that was sarcastic; but I really didn;t like her method of teaching. The erudition she gave us wasn't even at a High School Level... I think I learned those phrases in Middle School. Sorry to sound mean and to scorn her, but I just don't think this class was very... cerebral. waht to associate me in this errand I have to get through my life? Her voice was about a high-pitch tone that spoke really soft... but it was described as a cat nail dragging on the blackboard. As if I cared what she had to say. But I had to care, dear. No, I don't think I'm hardcore for saying this in my mind. But I really think that she should shut her tap... as I recommend all teachers to do. But I'm severely bored, dear. Just as much as I want to scream, I'll retain it for now.
I feel rather retarded. Sitting in this classroom with a plump lady.
"'What is this class?" I asked out of nowhere to a complete stranger. He answered with a low tone I couldn't make out what it was, really. It sound as if it was French Class.. but than again, it could've been something else. As the teacher got up from her desk and started to write the homework, I darted in the classroom to find that there was an empty seat next to another one. I chose the one closet to the door... the one left of the high school jock that made everyone's life a living hell. I didn't bother to write down the homework; because I didn't need too. As I read aloud, it said: "None." Placing my head in my left palm, I let my arm's elbow hold my head up as the plump lady brushed her skirt and sat down once more, allowing us to read or do what else. Certainly, I grew bored by the second and wasn't really concerned that we were not going to begin untill about 10 minutes into the class.
I headed squinted my eyes to read the teacher's name which said: "Mrs. Janelle" or something. I really couldn't tell. Her handwriting was dreadful and really messy. I didn't really care. Luckily, this was a substitute and it wasn't long for people to toil with her mind and cause stress to her job. Of course, I thought that was really childish -- but actually very fun to participate in. As I jotted down a few scribbles in my notebook, I turned to have a veiw of the class. Since I was on the way left of the room, I could find that the majority of girls was greater than the boys. France must be somewhere girls want to go, most favorably. The slovenly bun of the teacher began to move again and she spoke with a clear French accent, "Bonjour." She seemed really sweet, conceivably... she could have a malicious mind with an relentless attitude. If we got too deafening, than that would bring out the thunderous matter in her and she would begin to act vociferous with a complete dote on her ambition of rambling on and on about how we acted like childish third graders eating paste. As I got bored, I murmured what seemed like a 'Bonjour' back. I waited for the first person to pull an antic on Mrs... whatever.
My conclusion: she was boring. I got through five minutes of the class already and I couldn't think anything up in French... not even English. Okay, that was sarcastic; but I really didn;t like her method of teaching. The erudition she gave us wasn't even at a High School Level... I think I learned those phrases in Middle School. Sorry to sound mean and to scorn her, but I just don't think this class was very... cerebral. waht to associate me in this errand I have to get through my life? Her voice was about a high-pitch tone that spoke really soft... but it was described as a cat nail dragging on the blackboard. As if I cared what she had to say. But I had to care, dear. No, I don't think I'm hardcore for saying this in my mind. But I really think that she should shut her tap... as I recommend all teachers to do. But I'm severely bored, dear. Just as much as I want to scream, I'll retain it for now.
I feel rather retarded. Sitting in this classroom with a plump lady.