While school was typically bland today, I was relieved to discover that my next year of it wouldn't have to be quite so difficult. If I take govt/econ in summer school, all I need next year to graduate is English IV, Speech, and, um, some other class that I forgot about. With the seven period day, that leaves me room for choir, and my new interest in the internship at the Marriot. If I make that, I'll be messing around with various cooking jobs for three periods a day instead of doing algebra or physics or world history. Dishwashing and watching peopld do stuff seems like a much better occupation than getting unfriendly looks from Mrs.Jenkins or listening to Mr.Turks lecture.

Although, I must admit, Mr.Turks is okay. I think he's a bit smarter than he'll let us know, after listening to opinions and lectures and learning that he actually knows what quantum physics is. He seemed interested in my book. I imagine he doesn't truly speak his mind a lot, for fear of rejection. Probably wants what anybody does-for people to understand him. Being intellectual makes that challenging, and in his community of football coach buddies, I estimate that he dumbs his vocabulary down a bit. He often uses some multisyllabic words and acts like he doesn't know the meaning. You know, either all that, or he's a dumbass who likes my papers. So I'll leave him off my hit list, and keep his droning assignments on there instead.

The most positive happening today occured after school, surprisingly enough, with Larkin. After the massive amounts of cooking I did during Thanksgiving, I'd come up with a sound idea earlier this week to cook for Larkin. So we went over to that labyrinth of a new HEB, I bought cans of artichoke hearts and whole pimentos, and a couple of portabella mushrooms, and then glided safely to a stop at my house, avoiding the large number of cops that've been lurking through my neighborhood recently.

After a bout of impressive-looking chopping moves, I sauteed the mixture of diced vegetables and fungi in a cast iron skillet with olive oil, saving the garlic for last. It's a damned innovative combination of stuff if I do say so myself-I got the idea for doing it with some rice when I realized, when I cooked the veggies the same way for the stuffing at Thanksgiving, that I would've rather eaten them by themselves. My dad came up with a sauce when he strolled by by simply watering down the remnants of the vegetables and oil in the skillet, and adding some chili garlic sauce and, intriguingly enough, honey. I think I outdid myself. In fact, I miss it now, as I pick at one of those microwavable pizzas (my father bought a hojillion of them when they were on sale at food town) that I'm eating because, well, I'm a skinny little bastard and I'm hungry, and I think I'm still trying to gain back the weight I lost when I was sick.

Probably will not type up anything in here tomorrow. I've got a chamber choir runout. I do Saturday, too. And Sunday. And next fucking Tuesday. And next Wednesday. And next Friday. God, the Christmas carols! It's like my mind is a legal document, the Christmas carols are the industrial-strength paper shredder, and in the trashcan my sanity's confetti is released into is a vat of chamber choir runouts, which are like a gallon of boric acid.