I am considering filtering out some old entries from this journal. I mean, apparently people read it. Like, real people. Besides Marissa.
People like Nick and C, who I spent the entire weekend with in San Francisco and I want to go baaaack.
Highlights: Alcatraz. There is a long and highly detailed story about our getting to Alcatraz, and I will but hint at it here, by telling you that should YOU want to go to Alcatraz, the only way to get there is from Pier 33. As in, not the Blue and Gold people. Their Web site does not actually say this. The island itself is quite beautiful -- today there would never be a prison there, because the real estate profits would be unbelievable -- and the prison is creepy and fantastic, a great corroding Gearworld of dizzyingly vast proportions. I have pictures of Nick being Prisoner Number 114 and an awesome shot of the overgrown-with-moss morgue that ended up being not-so-awesome after all because the glass turned it into a picture of me with a cell phone camera. We bought handcuff keychains. And Nick got a book of the Rules and Regulations that used to be provided to every prisoner and read it out loud to us, which was amusing.
Castro. Oh my god. Castro. I expected sleazy, and there was a little sleaze, but it was the kind that's fun and open and safe and friendly and total strangers pat your arm and trill "HEY SEXY!" People talk and laugh with complete strangers in little stores that sell obscene cookies. Everyone smiles. Even the waiters are friendly and happy.
Stormy Leather. I am embarrassed by my fascination with this store, and will limit my comments for the sake of my readers with roommates who would be Shocked and Horrified by my Sin. Nick thinks that the guy at the counter thought we were a threesome. I'm not sure we did much to disabuse him of the notion. I saw a corset that I really wanted, but it was not terribly difficult to talk myself out of it. There was a T-shirt that said "woof." Those who are familiar with the depredations of which we are capable will have an idea of why this made us snicker.
I heart San Francisco. It is beautiful. It is exactly what the Journey song led me to hope for. It also can go from nice-place-to-live to omg-we're-gonna-die in less than a block ...
Now I have to write the sociology paper that is due in three hours. And wish that I was back in San Francisco.
Note to the world:
When you talk on your cell phone until the conversation ends with, "Okay, I'm falling asleep." -- "Me too." -- "Talk to you tomorrow then." -- "Okay, see you" -- followed immediately by drooling collapse,
it is entirely likely that you will be wakened by the sound of the corner of your pillow finding the # key and holding it.
*does a stupid little dance* Pirates. Pirates. Pirates!
Since I'm pompous and like to get out my lighted pen and pretend to be a film reviewer, I have reviewed it ... I'll post in the morning ... but first, there's a story behind the way we saw it.
Every year since Pearl Harbor came out, my journalism/economics/US government/US history teacher has taken his classes to see a film after the end of AP exams. The idea being, that since we have difficult college-level work and research papers over the summer, we deserve to take a tiny portion of that time back once we've taken all of our exams. Last year we went to see "The Da Vinci Code," and certain members of our math, science and foreign language departments threw an absolute shit fit. Further trips were nixed, because our principal is easily swayed by the vociferous minority of teachers.
So this year, myself and certain other members of the senior class put together a trip for the AP classes to go see Pirates of the Carribean. (Our rationale is that since Article I, Section 8 of the United States Constitution grants Congress the power to punish piracy on the high seas, this relates to AP Government). About two hundred people ended up coming ... I think that the nice ladies who I made the reservation for the private screening with still have no idea that it wasn't a sanctioned trip. And frankly, how fantastic is it that we did this? That we organized that well? That word of mouth took us all the way up to the day before?
Then this idiot girl decided to tell the High Queen Pwner of Field Trips, a.k.a. the Spanish III teacher, exactly what was going on. I don't know her, but I'm told she does the whole sabotage-everything-for-attention thing fairly often, which would cause me to pity her in other circumstances. Now half the staff is screaming for my suspension. *shrugs* I'm not exactly untouchable here, but given that my dad's the assistant principal AND I'm a top student AND I've been offered a job at the school next year, I think the staff members who adore me can stall, stall, stall for the two weeks until graduation.
I suppose technically it's my fault that certain teachers caused a whole lot of grades to plummet, but ... I told my fellows how to fix that (dropping already-earned scores because of an absence is so illegal it's not even funny), and if everyone's too lazy to make a well-placed phone call then it's their problem.
What irks me is that the football team does this all the time, and band and choir miss classes all year long, but if AP students take three periods off to see a damn movie it's grounds for educational execution. After some consideration, though, it's even more satisfying, in a way.
We scared those teachers who patronize their students and think we're incapable of making decisions. They saw that their perfect, 4.0 GPA little AP robots had minds for something beyond their oh-so-helpful homework assignments and their condescending little life lessons. We gave them a bit of a fright, because this was in the works for three weeks before a whisper of it reached their pricked ears. It scares these teachers that something involving two hundred students, over a thousand dollars, deals with a corporate office, weeks of planning, could go on without their signed-and-sealed approval. It scares these teachers that we can organize without their guidance.
And deep inside me, in the part of my independent heart that would sign on to be a pirate in seconds flat, that makes it all worth it.