please close curtains, we don't want to see your face.

Fatale, I, have (I swear by it) the nuttiest teachers that ever did teach. And that, mis amigos, is NOT a good thing.

Names have been changed.

Mrs. Night: Oh, now here's a good one. This lady is a creeper, if ever one. She's short and pudgy with squinty, searching eyes and claims she has a husband down in Florida (why he's down there and not here, I don't know, but do I blame him? Not one bit.) and has countless stories of 'Darkstar', her herioc horse and all their adventures. She teaches business management (the most pointless class in history). Oh man, but when she creeps, she creeps. She has the windows by the class doors covered with construction paper for some odd reason, so when someone knocks, she scuttles over and pulls back a piece with a paper handle she stuck to the back of it and peeks out.
Let me tell you, when you're the one doing the knocking, having the face of Mrs. Night peering back at you out of nowhere scares the bejeezers out of you.
Creepin'!

Mr. Finks: This man is my geometry teacher. When not teaching unhumane torture methods, he's a sports coach. How someone can do both of those, I have no idea. He's not creepin', but, wow, can he get strange. Especially when he has his two cups of coffee in the morning. And I, unfortunately, share his first hour. I get the first aim of fire.
"WHOO!" He jumps into the class at 7:30 am (not a good time of day for me, mind you). And he isn't exactly slender, so I feel the wave of vibration go under my feet on the other side of the classroom.
"MATH IS FUN! ISN'T IT FUN?"
Even from where I sit, I can tell his pupils are dialated. I groan.
Although, I'm not really complaining about Finks. He found out that I'm an 'artist', and showed me the amazing works of Escher and even gave me his book on Tessalations. How cool!

Mr. Callin: Because we have a new student teacher, Mr. Running, I don't have Callin as my normal world history teacher. Thanks be to God. It is not rumor, but fact, that Callin's coffee (which he constantly has) is spiked. Particularly with Jack Daniels and such. I don't know how he pulls it off or why he hasn't been caught over it, but he's obviously master at it. He once left a cup sitting behind Dani, and overrun by curiousity, I sidled over and sniffed at it tentatively. The man is obviously over seventy with a permanent purple nose (which is rather distracting) and a mouth that looks like it was made by slitting a line into his face. It's rather confusing.

Miss Party: Profesora de espanol. Probably one of my most annoying teachers I've ever had. She's as thin (maybe thinner?) than me and she has to be over thirty. Huge lips with huge eyes and a tiny nose. Her proportions just don't match and you know what? It's frustrating.
What's really irritating is how she rambles. About EVERYTHING. She quite literally will go on for ten minutes saying how we are just about to take our test. And then once we have our test, she goes over the instructions (which are the same ever time). At that point, I'm all ready a quarter into it.
One of her other habits that really rubs my nerves raw is her extensive use of 'um'. My close friend, Stacie, once actually kept record of how many times she said that blasted word in one class period (77 minutes): 42 times. How ridiculous. I tried and gave up at mere siete. The more I paid attention, the more I began to see red.

How ridiculous can school get? Not much more than this. I would go on about Mrs. Webbie, but that'd take a whole post on its own.
Be grateful I won't get into that subject.

xoxo