Received: from nobody by stodi.digitalkingdom.org with local (Exim 4.87) (envelope-from ) id 1c9bLf-000163-FJ for lojban-newreal@lojban.org; Wed, 23 Nov 2016 09:28:43 -0800 Received: from [38.102.226.119] (port=56438 helo=thecofeepath.com) by stodi.digitalkingdom.org with esmtp (Exim 4.87) (envelope-from ) id 1c9bLa-000156-T6 for lojban@lojban.org; Wed, 23 Nov 2016 09:28:42 -0800 Date: Wed, 23 Nov 2016 10:51:12 -0700 From: "Randall Goodman" Mime-Version: 1 Content-Type: text/html; charset=us-ascii Message-ID: <71c2c7e55fbfda4353ca10c7b6e541eeedpc2c7e55fbfda4353ca10c7b6e541eeed-3993770-lojban@lojban.org.03> Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Subject: Get your $100-Starbucks card: vouch #3993770 To: X-Spam-Score: -0.4 (/) X-Spam_score: -0.4 X-Spam_score_int: -3 X-Spam_bar: / get the new cofee
Starbucks
The literature had a lot of information on that. per my direction, would accompany me inside. I had reviewed the floor plan of the actual buildings, memorized everything from the ceiling heights to emergency exits to electrical outlet locations. I was preenrolled in English, math, Spanish, physical education, social studies, and science. With the exception of P.E., I knew a lot about the subjects. I had calculated the amount of time I needed to walk the halls, as well as the cubic feet of the storage closets. I could recite the entire Sequoia student handbook. As we pulled out of the driveway, I was anxious, but I knew for certain one thing: I was ready for middle school. I was wrong. The place was so loud. The girls were shrieking and the boys were physically attacking each other. At least thats how it appeared. I hated to remove my red panama hat. It was my signature color, but the hat was designed, after all, for sun protection. I had only taken four steps into the mob when a girl approached. She came right up to me and said: The toilet in the second stall is broken. Its totally gross. She waved her arm in the direction of more meateaters and then she was gone. I took a moment to process her statement. Was she giving me some kind of informational headsup
Get Your-$100-Card
Starbucks-eReward

Upon completion of a few questions-you will be on your way to drinking delicious coffee drinks all Winter long.

StarbucksVouch: 3993770

I could see her talking to two girls next to a row of lockers and she didnt have the same intensity. I looked through the swarm and I saw a slight, dark haired man pulling a wheeled cart. It was loaded with cleaning supplies. Two mops were attached to the back. I stared at him and realized that he and I were dressed alike. But he was pulling a cleaning trolley, not luggage with wheels that have a 360degree rotating option. And then I had a distressing thought: It was possible that the girl believed I was some kind of maintenance worker. I lasted less than three hours. The place made me severely nauseated. For health and safety reasons, I went to the office and insisted on calling home. I waited outside at the curb and just the sight of my moms car in the distance made it easier to breathe. When I climbed inside, my mother instantly said: First days are always hard. If I were the kind of person who cried, Im sure that I would have, but thats not in my character. I almost never cry. Instead, I just nodded and stared out the dow. I can disappear like that into myself. Once we were home, I spent the rest of the afternoon in my garden. I didnt till the soil or weed the flowerbeds or try to graft a tree limb; I sat in the shade and listened to my Japanese language instruction. That night, I found myself staring out the dow at the sky and counting by 7s for what ended up being a new record. I tried to roll with it. But what I learned and what was being taught had no intersection. While my teachers labored over the rigors of their chosen subject, I sat in the back, pretty much bored out of my mind. I knew the stuff, so instead I studied the other students. I came to a few conclusions about the middle school experience: Clothing was very important. In my opinion, if the world were perfect, everyone would wear lab coats in educational settings, but that obviously was not happening. The average teenager was willing to wear very uncomfortable attire. From my observation, the older you get, the more you like the word cozy. Thats why most of the elderly wear pants with elastic waistbands. If they wear pants at all. This may explain why grandparents are in love with buying grandkids pajamas and bathrobes. The outfits worn by my fellow students were, in my opinion, either way too tight or way too loose. Apparently having something that actually fits was not acceptable. Haircuts and accessories were defining. The color black was very popular. Some of the students worked very hard to stand out. Others put as much effort into blending in. Music was some kind of religion. It seemed to bring people together, and tear them apart. It identified a group, and apparently it prescribed ways to behave and react. Interaction between the male species and the female species was varied and intense and highly unpredictable. There was more touching than I thought there would be. Some students had no inhibitions whatsoever. No attention was paid to nutrition. The word deodorant was not yet understood by over half of the boys. And the word awesome was overused. I was only 7 days into my latest educational misadventure when I walked into English class to find Mrs. Kleinsasser making an announcement: This morning everyone will be taking a standardized test administered to all students in the state of California. On your desk you have a booklet and a number two pencil. Do not open the booklets until I give you instructions to do so. Mrs. Kleinsasser signaled that she was ready and she started a clock. And suddenly I decided to pay attention. I took the pencil and began filling in the ovals with the answers. In 17 minutes and 47 seconds I got up from my seat and walked to the front of the room, where I handed the answer form and the booklet to the teacher. I slipped out the door and I thought it was possible that I heard the whole classroom whispering. I received a perfect score. I headed into Mrs. Kleinsassers class a week later and she was waiting for me. She said: Willow Chance. Principal Rudin needs to see you. My fellow middle schoolers buzzed at this news like pollensoaked worker bees. I went for the door, but at the last minute, I turned back. It must have been obvious that I wanted to say something, because the room went quiet as I faced my classmates. I found my voice and said: The human corpse flower has blossomed. Im almost certain no one got it. I took a seat in Principal Rudins office, which was much less impressive than I had hoped. The anxious woman leaned on her desk, and her brow knitted into a strange pattern of angled, intersecting lines. I felt certain that if I stared long enough, I would find a math theory in the womans forehead. But the lines rearranged themselves before I could work out the dynamic, and the principal said: Willow, do you know why youre here I made the decision not to answer, hoping that might cause the skin above her eyes to again knit up. The administrator didnt blink as she stared right at me. You cheated. I found myself answering: I didnt cheat at anything. Principal Rudin exhaled. Your file shows that you were identified several years ago as having high aptitude. Your teachers report no evidence of that. No one in the state got a perfect test score. I could feel my face grow warm. I said: Really But what I wanted to do was shout out: Your left elbow displays the fifth form of psoriasisan erythrodermic condition characterized by intense redness in large patches. A course of 2.5% cortisone cream application combined with regulated exposure to sunlightwithout sunburn, of coursewould be my recommendation for relief. But I didnt. I had very little experience with authority. And zero experience as a practicing physician. So I didnt defend myself. I just clammed up. What followed was a onesided 47minutelong interrogation. The principal, unable to prove the deception, but certain that it had happened, finally let me go. But not before she put in a formal request for me to see a behavioral counselor at the district main offices. Thats where the real problem kids were sent. My counselors name was Dell Duke. Chapter 5 dell duke An ignoramus shoots at the wrong thing, and hits it. Dell Duke could not believe that he had ended up in the sprawling agricultural community. He had daydreamed bigger than this. Delwood was his mothers last name and hed been saddled with it as a first name at birth. But thankfully, no one had ever called him Delwood. He was Dell from the start. While Dell hated his first name, he took some measure of pride in Duke.






No more incoming messages will be delivered. Just tell us and within a few days this will update
Frances Nieland | 10910 W Arabian Way Boise Id 83709-5009

Take action and no longer recieve these messages anymore - thanks
P.O. Box 4668 #85919 New York, NY 10163-4668