Registratrion? YES PLZ.

One of the most ridiculous and useless things that school has created is the registration process. Every year, THOUSANDS of students around the country - and perhaps the WORLD - flock to their local educational institutions to stand in line after useless line, talk to ASB students that they may not necessarily like, and walk about looking confused/frustrated/constipated for an inordinate amount of time.

Friends, I had to suffer through the registration process today, strangely enough, for the first time ever. The last two years I've been gone for the registration days and thusly had to take my ass to the mini-gym every single first day of school to turn in my crap. It was always fun, because I got to miss like the 1st four periods of the day since people were soooo fricken disorganized.

BUT NOT TODAY.

Instead, I walked confusedly into the gym, became #108, sat with a few friends/family, waved at some other friends, and waited for my person to be called into DA STATIONS. Which I did. I was feeling awkward the whole time, cause I looked like crap and knew for a fact that my ID photo would look like crap too, but looking like crap has never stopped me from attending school functions (lol), so it sorta didn't matter.

When I turned in my donation to the PTO, I answered a question I wasn't even asked. GREAT. Way to look retarded, Rahlia.

When I bought my yearbook, I was actually quite smooth. Corrected a girl on her spelling of my name and EV-ER-EE-THANG. Photo time went sorta smooth, though I suffered much like another friend of mine and ended up standing awkwardly while waiting for my ID because I had no idea what the policy for standing was.

DUN EVEN GET ME STARTED ON SCHEDULE PICK UP.

I stood in a line. Listened to some chick who told me I had to go INDOORS to get my paper. Meandered around the counselor's office, noticed nobody was approaching their counselors for schedules, and cursed the polite but ultimately incorrect young lady who had directed me here for my paperwork.

Do not fear! I quickly exited that evil, evil place and picked up my schedule which was, luckily, quite the BREEZE, seeing as how the girl in charge of schedules was sort of my neighbor in math class freshman year. GO ACQUAINTANCES. (I mean, she remembered my name and EV-ER-EE-THANG.)

Media center's never my favorite thing, because it always hurts to see other kids picking up like two or three books of classes I've already taken while I have to go pick up 5 books for all the retardedly-advanced classes that I've committed myself to. I mean, I got TWO books solely for math, and I recently discovered that I may need a $50 calculator (that's the price for a used calculator) that I won't even need for future high school math classes. And there's no way I'm being anything math related for my career, whatever it will be, so I don't even need that stupid calculator for college.

WHAT THE HELL?!

And it's not like I can steal a calculator from my older cousins because, oh joy, none of my cousins have ever GOTTEN THIS FAR. I have a lot of cousins, so it's extremely disappointing that NONE of them could have this calculator.

Oh yeah. And if I lose the disc of my biology book I have to pay the full price of the book - $130. Good thing I ain't gonna lose the disc, eh?

All in all, book pick-up was discouraging because a) it's not fair that I will need two math books b) other kids got lucky and were carrying three books and were STILL whining over the weight and c) I have no valid third reason, but the sole fact that it's TEXTBOOKS sucks enough for 20 more reasons plus 2.

Poor Anette tried to wave at me while carrying her books. It was disaster, and she had to force her knee to do its part and help with the weight.

On the way back to the car, after whining to my mom about my TWO math books, my mother found a copy of The Pit and the Pendulum by Edgar Allen Poe on the sidewalk or pavement if you're British, which you're most likely not. The find cheered me up substantially. Free books that don't cost $130 (notice the redundancy of the previous? I hope you do) or weigh enough to curve my spine into unnatural shapes? Count me in.

And if you were wondering: my ID card came out fine. I tend not to whine about my ID pictures too much because I'm sorta stuck with it/I can go change it any time I want by pretending I lost my ID card, though I'll never do that because it's such a waste of time. Only problem? Flash created a shiny white bright spot on my forehead so it looks like I wiped cream cheese/whipped cream/cream bleach/ice cream/bird feces/mayonnaise on my brow, creating the illusion of a Count Olafesque unibrow or some weird tribal make-up that I've donned before taking my required photograph.

GWAR.