Okay, some time passed since that day, but ... it was still awesome.
It was ... 1 March. Yes.
This is going to be a post about how awesome I am and how much my teachers love – at least the ones how 'teach' me stuff (uhum ...) on Thursdays.
First lesson: English.
This teacher is a wacko. She's crazy. And doesn't know English.
I didn't have my homework with me – I left my folder at home on purpose. The double lesson English on Tuesday was off because ... she wasn't there and I thought she wouldn't be there on Thursday, too.
But she was.
And I came through that lesson without having my homework with me (I did it. Just ... left it at home). And when my coursemates with their horrible English accents read out the stuff they wrote (the homework was to do some grammatical exercises), the teacher asked me if they were right.
Aw, yeah.
I'm her favourite kid.
Second lesson: German.
German is actually always awesome due to our awesome teacher.
He was awesome enough to make me go to him after a lesson's end and ask him if he wanted to read
a short story I wrote (and my friend would also give him one of hers). He said Yes.
That day, my certain friend wasn't there – she had band practise for the school's play ('The Threepenny Opera') and when the lesson started, he said: "Leonie, you come to me after we finish the lesson" and I nodded.
And I was nervous.
I put my hand up quite often in this lesson and after German class was over, I went to him and ...
He said my story was 'cool'. Of course, he misinterpreted some stuff, but I didn't correct him – I liked the stuff he thought I installed in it (the hidden agenda was ... in one German lesson, I thought: 'Leo! You'll write a short story, with some characteristics of one!' (we discussed short storys in that lesson)) and he said the quotes I build in it were 'great'.
Third and fourth lesson: French.
I like French more now. It's not about grammar anymore, it's more about contents and so on.
We used to discuss
les BD in class – COMIX.
But that day, we had a new topic – drama.
Our teacher had written two words on the whiteboard – "Le misantrophe".
I thought: Awesome. A play about me ...?
When she asked ... something, I don't remember it anymore, I think it was: "What do you think about a play with such a title?", but it can't really be, I put my hand put.
She said: "Do you know what it means?" (in French, of course) and I said: "
Oui. Un misantrophe ... c'est une personne qui déteste les gens."
The teacher stared at me and said: "
... Tu es geniale."
Oui.
Je sais. Fifth and sixth lesson: Gym class.
I dislike gym class. Who doesn't (okay, there are enough ... Weirdos)?
At the turn of the half-year, we got a new gym teacher – freshly from university, I think.
And it seems like we have to do the German Sports Badge. I don't want to.
Anyway, we're doing high jumping right now. I don't like it, but our teacher is great. He teaches us the technioques, practises with us ... in contrary to my gym teacher from 9th grade.
That day, we build up a parcous and had to pair up. Then, my friend Jacuqeline and I had to go to the stall with the bar.
AWZUM.
Not.
I knocked off the bar the two times I jumped, but I was praised.
I was good.
And that was good.
And art in the seventh, eighth lesson is always great.
I don't remember what we did.
But it was cool.
tl;dr.
Check this out.