I'm going to start off by making your wallets very happy at Barnes and Nobel. 

 My mother very recently got a part time job there so she can get out of the house. Okay, pop quiz, why does Wolf's mother do for her full time job? I know I've mentioned it somewhere...

 Anywho, lets talk about the bargain table. You know. That one. This may seem like common sense (for anyone who's worked in a similar job) but...

 When publishers send too many of one book, the extra's are tossed onto the table, and are marked with the same sticker as everything else on the table. So, you know... it's cheaper.

 As someone who is usually careful with money, except when it comes to books, and usually lacking in the common sense department, this was revolutionary.

 Wait a second... FUCK! I sound like a life hack person... God... I fucking hate life hacks...

 Now I'm defiantly going to hell. It wouldn't be my vulgarity, black sense of humor, and love of Cards Against Humanity that sent me there... It'd be this very moment....

 Meh. I'd be away from some particularly annoying people....

 Wait. My Father would probably be down there.

 Christ, I can hear him now. 

 "That Lucifer still won't let me leave to go to heaven. I dunno what I did. I was a good guy. I went to church school, scolded you for taking the Lords name in vain."

 "Babes. The food down here sucks."

 "URGH!!!! It's so hot down here!"

 "Wolf... why are you pointing a gun at me?"

 Heheh... Sorry, I think I'm hilarious.

 Now lets talk about fingers. Lady's Fingers. The cookie.

 Last night we were in our local grocery store getting some treats, and I got myself some decaffeinated tea so the next time I made cake, I could have it late at night with some tea. Lets just say a cup of Darjeeling at 9:30 at night is not a good idea.

 Uhhh.... back to the story. I hate green tea and herbal tea. I just find it disgusting, and I despise hot coco. So I grabbed some decaffeinated black, and decided instead of getting ice cream, I can be the piece of trash that I am, and get some cookies to go with my tea.

 I waddle over to the International section looking for some tea biscuits my dad bought when we were binge watching The Great British Baking Show. I'm ninety percent sure my father is a closeted Anglophile.

 Actually, I have a theory that most Americans are closeted Anglophiles. Anywho.... one track mind... they don't have them, so I just grab the cheapest package of cookies. Lady Fingers.

 So I  have my cookies, I make some tea, and curl up in our papasan chair with a book. These cookies are as hard as a rock, and the thick layer of granulated sugar that's the equivalent of a crystal doesn't help.

 Tasteless. Dipping them in the tea made it manageable.

 Long story short, don't buy cookies just because they're cheap. Being able to read the package probably would have helped.... Also, just buy ice cream instead. Ice Cream never gets old...

 I... am American trash... I love and hate it... But I mostly hate it.

 Like most teens, I'm a master bullshitter in my papers. I love writing, and I've become exceptionally good at taking pieces of information, and pulling shit out of my ass, and bending what I need to, to my will, without changing the context. You know, like everyone else on the internet. 

 I just cover my shit with lovely words, and I consistently get hundreds. and my English (and my Social Studies teacher last year) think highly of me for some reason. 

 Don't get me wrong, I can write without bullshitting, but I'd rather read. Or write something else. Or pet my cat.

 Now, how would you feel if your next English teacher is one of your fathers best friends, and one of the harshest graders in the school, who has said that he wanted me in my class because he knows me and what I can do. I felt honored he said he wanted me in his class, but now with my schedule, I feel rather intimidated.

 He also teaches the collage English class, and is just intimidating to look at. I'd feel guilty just bullshitting him. And let me be honest here, this would be me writing my papers in this class:

 Wolf: Gah! Gray... a.... A. Not... uhhhh....

Wolf: Should I use an Oxford comma... I never use them (okay... I think I used one in the first paragraph of this section). Maybe I should,...

Wolf: Did they say this in article? How much am I pulling out of my ass?

Wolf: Within the text.... no.... stated in the.... how basic.

Wolf: Oh! Who's my sweet little Kitty-Pumpkins! *pets Teddy* Wait... I should be writing.

Wolf's Mother when editing: Okay, lets trim this and this and this. *essay is now three pages shorter and much more effective*

 Am I nervous because one of the most intimidating teachers is expecting a lot from me? Yes.

 Then again, I gotta figure this out if I wanna be an English Major and get a PhD and be a professor at nice collage, and complain about how society is falling a part. Then laugh at my own jokes like a maniac, while my students stare at me, questioning my sanity. 

 Then I'll go home to my sixty cats each night, and question my own sanity while devouring a pint of Ben and Jerry's.

 That's a lot of sanity being questioned. Should I be concerned? Meh. I'm not crazy, the voices say so.

 Very recently Wolf realized how much of a teenager she is yesterday. I was reading through the paperwork the school sent, and sorting it out. I read one of the letters, and lemme give you some background.

 Last year, my school started a High School Phone Committee (we'll call it the HSPC for short). They'd essentially decide what the phone rules would be next year. The HSPC welcomed students on the Committee. I didn't get involved because of the following reasons:

-I didn't think my school would be crazy enough to take phones away from a bunch of hormonal adolescents who live on Snapchat and Instagram. I think selfies are how most of my generation sustains themselves...

-I just assumed enough students would care, and the super vocal group would charge in and save the day.

-I'm way too argumentative.

-I'm also really lazy, and didn't know where the meetings were. (We all know that's the biggest deciding factor in why I and most of the student body didn't get our revenge).

 There were a few, but not enough. The student body can no longer have their phones on them (and based on the letter, I think that includes lunch too).

 The teenager in me died. Then I died realizing how much like my generation I actually am. 

 Now, everyone in my school is going to be jumping on our principals throats. The Super Intendent is untouchable, and all of these decisions were made before he was hired. Maybe that's why he left...

 Nah. Another district was going to pay him more.

 Last year, we were no longer allowed to have food outside the lunchroom, which I understand where they were coming from. However, for some reason, coffee was no longer allowed, which created my issue with this rule. Then you could only bring clear water bottles. It was supposed to insure students didn't bring soda and alcohol.

 Eventually they scrapped the rule about water bottles after enough complaints, but teachers were allowed to sniff and check your drink. I never saw a single teacher do it though.

 Issues about the rule came when students complained about how the teachers could eat food and drink coffee. In the beginning of the year our principal explained it as a hierarchy thing, and how it was supposed to prepare us for the real world. To which one kid responded, "How is this going to prepare us for the real world," then listed some reasons why.

 To which the principal elegantly responded with, "Shut up."

 The only reason the school started cracking down on the rule, was because of a law suite. A girl with severe allergies had a reaction, and her parents were less than pleased.

 Like I said, I under stand where the school comes from. However, there are some people (a teacher for example) who don't complain about their allergy, and one of these people, you just tell him you have peanuts, and he stays away. But this girl, her allergies were so severe, that she had to have a special water bottle in marching band in case anyone had eaten peanuts.

 The phone thing, was a long time coming. I'm surprised we didn't call it. 

 Two years ago, some girls (who fulfill every aspect of the mean girl stereotype beside being rich and popular) took a picture of a girl on a toilet and posted it on Snapchat. This lead to the phone ban in the middle school.

 Last year, toward the end, several kids left school grounds for a fight. I saw them walking away as the bus pulled in. We all thought they were going for a smoke. No. Several kids recorded it and were suspended.

 Then of course, kids taking their phones out in class. As a teacher, you should have taken that phone until the end of the day. 

 However, despite being a small school, the administration will probably be facing the wrath equivalent to the wrath of a city school. Last year, behavior wise was the worst for some students. It'll only get worse.

 I'm surprised I cared. Really. I'm still pissed about the coffee, and the phone thing, I use it as a timer in science, and when I'm finished early with labs, I scroll through Pinterest. 

 But it's in my locker... and you know... school lockers aren't so secure...

 WHY AM I COMPLANING ABOUT HALF THIS SHIT! Because I'm bored... and nothing interesting goes on in my life, so I've turned to this style of internet life. How sad.     

 So... now that'd I'm done feeding my ego and freaking out about nothing (I just need to talk about crap to make myself feel better sometimes, and it's always pointless), how ya guys doing? Good. Good.

 Randomer, how'd re-sits go?

 Benny, do we get to see any more art?

 Lion, how ya doing?

 Dark, what anime are you going to watch next?

 Cam, uh... how's Canada? Uhhh... lemme do better. How's writing?

 Kronis, dost thou still exist?

 Cheker, how are ya?

 I think I'm going curl up and read in a bit. Or maybe just do what I do every night. Stare at my celling and question why I don't sleep. Then mentally bitch the next morning as I drink a lovely cup of coffee. 

 Sorry for my pointless, meaningless rambling. I like to talk about nothing sometimes.