What a bizarre afternoon.

I got on the bus after school today, late enough that only a few seats were open. The one I chose was behind this fourth-grade brat who all of the other riders hate but I am usually able to control fairly well.

(On the buses at our school, high school students apply to be bus monitors, a paid position to keep kids well behaved and, consequently, to become their slave.)

This brat, Kellie, decided to take advantage of the monitors and produced an oreo wrapper, screaming "Bus monitor! Trash!!" This was normal, but soon after the monitor had sat down, she produced an empty bag of chips, again yelling for the monitor to come. After two or three times, she pulled out a dirty zip-lock bag and I decided to try to teach her a thing or two.

"Kellie, it's not very hard to keep trash to yourself. Let me see that zip-lock bag."

So she gave it to me and the next time she flailed her trash-wielding hand in the air, I took it and put it into the ziplock bag. "There. Now you don't have to deal with trash sitting around and you can just throw the bag away when you get off." I gave her the trash bag and, after a moment of silence, she threw it back into my seat. So, in order to prove my point, I took any trash that she came up with and put it into the bag without a word. When she threw back another ziplock bag, I slipped it back into her seat so she might be able to follow my example and went to sleep.

I woke up to trash landing on my lap.

Not only the bag I had slipped to her (which was expected), but the contents of the bag I had kept in my seat. That's right; she took the bag from my seat, took the trash out of it, and threw it on me. Although I was raging inside, I stayed "asleep". (The one thing she was trying to get out of this was attention and that was the one thing I wasn't going to give her.) The other high schoolers sitting around yelled at her and the bus monitor came around and said "If you cause any more trouble, I'm gonna give you a bus report!" and took her trash to the bucket in the back of the bus. I took the trash that was thrown on me and put it into my little baggy. After that, she stuck her head out from the side of the side of the seat with a rat-like face (no change from before) and I physically threatened to kick her in the face. (I was sitting sideways in the two person seat, my feet conveniently near where her head came around.)

What brats there are at this school. The parents have no idea what little devils their children are and figure that, as long as they make them happy with material things, the important part of parenting is over. Fuck people with money! I'm determined to have children of my own and raise them up right, frugal, considerate, and polite. Watch me as I destroy your non-existant parenting skills, parents of Kellie. You are a disgrace to the school population. No! To the human race!

God damn it.

I was then lightened up as I walked from my bus stop towards the apartment to find my health teacher obviously struggling to figure out a map. (She lives out by the school, an hour away, so this was a big surprise.) I told her that the bank on the map had since been demolished and tried to decipher the impossibly crappy drawing with her. She had forty-five minutes until her appointment, so we walked together until I had to leave the main road. I gave her my good lucks and she said she'd wander around, try to find it the hard way.

She was going to the pediatrist, who had told her that "it's right next to the plastic surgeon." "Right, because people who have bad feet are regular visitors to the plastic surgeon."

Tee hee! What a wonderful Brit!

Yes well, I'm off to bed. Gots ta get ready for another busy day of hormone imbalance, child discipline, and schooling.