Yeah, not really.
I ran for student council as president, and won. Which was surprising, because I didn’t put any posters up around the school, didn’t like…shout from the rooftops that I was running, and pretty much freeballed (yes, I am using this word incorrectly. But it fits. again, not really) my speech. It was a word-of-mouth campaign, to put it nicely.
My first campaign promise was to make a suggestion box. Hahahahaha, HOW THE FUCK DO YOU MAKE A SUGGESTION BOX. I am already failing at this, so hard. Okay, so what I was thinking is that I could hang the box from my locker door, like so:
There are a few problems with this.
- Seriously how do I make a box with hooks on it
- That shit is GONNA fall down and make me look like a trick-ass fool, guaranteed
- Wait, I’m already a trick-ass fool, because who the fuck puts a box on her locker
- This will probably somehow hit the face of the person whose locker is next to mine. (Except this isn’t a problem because I don’t like that person)
The alternative is this:
And people put pieces of paper into the…gills (what are they and why do lockers have them??) and I collect the pieces of paper. Maybe I’d put a tray…box inside (like, the opposite of the first suggestion box! FUN!!!) to collect the suggestions so that they don’t fall out of the locker and shit. But there are issues with this, too, of course.
- TRICK-ASS FOOL WITH AN ARROW ON YO’ LOCKER, WHAT THE FUCK IS YOU DOIN’.
- The inside box is going to fall even more than the outside box. Locker gravity and all that.
- People are probably going to struggle with inserting–uh, sticking…no, shoving? God they’re all disgusting–putting their suggestions in the gills (WHAT ARE THEY?!). Because locker gravity. (and, also, the gills face downward)
- I don’t lock my locker (I don’t know how to use combination locks, and even when I did, it just takes too fucking long), so people could just, like, fuck around with the stuff inside (the president is a big target, yo). I guess this applies to the first box, too…so. there.
Maybe people should just tell them to me.
Besides completely overthinking fucking suggestion boxes, I had a four-day weekend because of Judaism, and I took the SAT on Saturday.
THE LINE WAS SO LONG.
I am really bad with distance and geography and all that spatial bullshit (keep that in mind, always), but the line must’ve been at least 16 yards long. This wasn’t single-file either, no, this is teenagers forming little grouplets of those who know each other. SIXTEEN YARDS and at least thirty minutes of no one to talk to because I don’t know anyone there and who is up at 8 am on a Saturday? No one I’d like to text, that’s who.
The SAT itself was mostly fine, though. Which I’m not sure I’m legally able to tell anyone, since I had to write in cursive saying that I wouldn’t say what was in the SAT. (Did you know that you will use up all of the available room to write in cursive and not be able to finish writing the contract-agreement-thing if you haven’t written in cursive since elementary school, because nobody fucking writes in cursive anymore?) All I’ll say is that there’s a penis in the math section and waiting for the next section to start when you can’t draw or write or do anything but look around and be hungry is horrible.
I won’t have my scores for a while, but I think I probably did okay. I mean, I didn’t get 2,400, because…I think you’re supposed to study for the SAT, and take classes and read SAT prep books. And I did none of that. (No studying. At all. Someone in front of me in line mentioned flash cards, and I thought, Man, when was the last time I used flash cards, 7th grade?) But it wasn’t as hard as I thought it was gonna be. FUCK YEAH BITCHES I’M GOING TO COLLEGE if we can find the money