I am a teacher's pet. It has its advantages and many many many many many many many many many many disadvantages, but like a i said it has it's advantages.
I did not choose to be a teacher's pet. I did not and still do not suck up to the teacher of whom is apparently my owner (if I so be a pet). I simply am good at speaking French, writing in French, am interested in the French and France, and I'm not a complete tosser (unlike my teacher). So if you haven't gathered by now, I am the teacher's pet of my French class. And it. is. bad.
Don't get me wrong, although I clearly do boast my Frenchish abilities, I am certainly not the only one in my class that's good at French and blah blah blah. Although, IT SEEMS that it really is only those on the same table as me that have some sort of intellect when it comes to language. Unfortunately only one of those 5 other girls on my table is scapegoated as said pet, and she get's off lucky. Also, that girl is Iz.
When I say Iz gets off lucky with her 'pet-status', I mean that when our psychotic, sick-in-the-head, utter toss-pot of a teacher is away, this happens: (This, btw, is an email our whole class received yesterday about todays lesson which I am currently in, pretending to be doing French work instead of writing a blog post)
I was not aware of this email until during Health in period 2, because a girl in my Health class who is also in my French class asked me something along the lines of "Hey Tiff, how come you're teaching us for French?" to which my reply was something of "What? Why isn't the nazi teaching us?" (I do actually refer to her as that) then she said something like "I dunno, cos she's away I suppose. It said on the email that you were taking us." By this stage, I had not checked my emails so I did not know of this. When we got back into our Health classroom (we were outside the gym whilst this conversation took place because we were giving CPR to incredibly un-realistic hollow dummies. Also we had to put our partner in the recovery position. I think I hypothetically killed Winnie with that. Tehe.) Anyway, so when we got back into the classroom, I checked my emails and sure enough I was not lied to.
Before today, I could easily tell I was a teacher's pet in French because at the start of almost every lesson, Mme. Teacher lady (Mme. is the abbreviation for Madame as in Mrs.) will blabber to 'random' people in the class in French and ask them things like what did you do on the weekend, what did you do last night (My god that sounds creepy.) and such. Unfortunately, she is simply awful at making these 'random' people different every time. The generic order of these 'random' victims of bland French conversation are: Me (for an extended period of time do that I feel incredibly like I'm showing off), Iz, Shannon or Winnie, then maybe one of the dumbshits. What? Who said dumbshits? Shut up table. Other than this, what I thought was the usual extend of my teacher's-petism was being called on to answer any somewhat difficult question, to read out my work or getting far too much public praise from my teacher. It's ANNOYING!!!!! Especially because it makes me seem like a suck-up, which I'm not. I'm simply just not disobedient (well when I'm not caught playing QWOP or Pole-riders [Pole riders is not what you may think it be if you're as seedy as I am, it's a pole-vaulting game made by the guy that made QWOP], or when I'm seen writing a blog post).
This is the way (I think) I became a teacher pet for my French class:
It all started in term 1 this year.....
(Pardon that fairy-taleish start)
Mme. Evil Teacher lady was my French teacher (from now on, I refer to my current French teacher who is the one that made me teacher's pet as Mme. Evil teacher lady, simply because I don't like her. Mme. Awesome teacher lady is my favourite French teacher who i had in term 2 this year and all of last year) in term one this year, and I was rather happy about that at the start because in all honesty, I reeeeeeally didn't like Mme. Awesome teacher lady last year. The only slight anticipation I had for having Mme. Evil teacher lady at the start of the year this year was that she was a new teacher. That means no-one knew what she was like and didn't know that she was the biggest mental trainwreck I have come across yet. My proof of her lack of sanity comes from a French lesson a month or so ago when a few girl in the class had come from Textiles and had the dresses they had made with them. Mme Evil teacher lady picked up one girls dress and started waltzing with it, providing her own sung music. I know I sound incredibly harsh saying that she's a tad uffed in the head just because of the dress thing and making me a teacher's pet, but it gets weirder. To my friend's French class (of which is taught by Mme Evil teacher lady), Mme. Evil teacher lady brought a creepy-ass doll and made it jump around on people and held it out the window (on the second story of the building) making it scream and say in an incredibly high pitched voice "Bonjour! Bonjour! Çava? Moi, je suis tres bien!" (Translation: Hello! Hello! How are you? Me, I am very good!) She's done many more odd things like sending a girl down to the admin corridor (that means to the super-strict [on sluts] principal for a metaphoric ass-whooping) simply because the girl SHUT HER PENCIL CASE!!!! I'm not kidding.
On with the main point of that paragraph:
So I think the teacher's pettiness (get it, cos its petty that I'm upset about being a teacher's pet) began in term one when I first had Mme. Evil teacher lady.
Frankly, I loved having her as a teacher. At the time I thought she was quite funny, with her seeming imitation of a nutcase. Turns out she wasn't imitating anyone.
Just for the let know, I take a bit of pride in my schoolwork and really don't like getting an IB grade of less than 5 on my report. For those of you who don't know, my school is an IB school, so I'm doing the IBMYP (international baccalaureate middle years program) In the IB on one's report, the following grades meant he following things: 7 = Outstanding, 6 = Excellent, 5 = Very Good, 4 = Good, 3 = Acceptable 2 = Needs attention 1 = Unacceptable 0 = Oh heeeeeeell no!
Alright, so I might of bullshat you for what grades 2, 1 and 0 are because I've forgotten, but you get my point.
On with the following! At the end of term 1, we got our school reports and not to toot my own horn (troll) I am quite good at French so I was expecting around a 5, maybe pushing it for a 6 on my report for French so I was pretty pissed off when I saw I got a very low 4 (as in I barely scraped it for a 4) and one of my friends got a 3!!! We weren't happy, and I don't care if I sound like a brat, I wasn't happy with that grade, especially because I thought I did quite well in my assessments. So like the little bitch I am, I got Dad to call Mme. Evil teacher lady up and ask about what happened. By the end of this, my grade did indeed get changed to a decent 5 because it got cross-marked by both Mme. Evil teacher lady and Mme. Awesome teacher lady. Anyways, on that call that father dearest made, he told Mme. Evil teacher lady about my interest in French and blah blah blah.
That's when the teacher's petness started. It got worse. So yeah, now I am a teacher's pet.
I'm so sorry about the blandness of this angsty teen post, the severe lack of picture and the incredible amount of words. I astounded even myslef with that. I bid ye farewell!
DFTBA
Scrounged my house for hawaiianish stuffs. Wore hawaiianish stuffs. Went to Izzy's. Played COD. Inflated balloons in the most sexual way possible. Wore a tablecloth. Claimed I was Mother Mary's lesbian sister. Hid in a kitchen with 5 other people. Jumped out at Billie and yelled "SURPRISE!!!!" after the phrase "So do you want a drink?" was uttered.
Partied like a hawaiian at a surprise party. Limbo-ed like a boss. Ate lots of food. Failed hitting a pinata.
