High School. It's not such a bad thing. But when you have cramps, it can suck ass.

College French Class. Not so awful, usually. But it's a bitch when you have cramps.

Work. Definitly worse than school no matter how you're feeling. Boring. Painful. Cramps.

My day sucked. I'm thinking about making a doctor's appointment to see if I can start taking some sort of birth control to escape this constant cramp cycle that leaves me to be an invalid for days at a time. Being female can't get any worse.

Other than that, I suppose some good stuff happened today. In my A.P. Stats class, we were going over the standard normal distribution curve and the calculator functions used to find the Z value without all the busy work. Not particularly exciting. But then Matt, a usually hung over kid who sits in the back, jumped up and yelled "Shit! I got pen on my shirt!" This turned into a huge deal. The teacher told him to put hairspray on it, and so he had to find some. Thankfully one girl had a huge pink bottle of it in her bag. Matt stuck it in his back pocket and ran to the bathroom. He came back twenty minutes later saying his shirt was sticky. Well, you'd think it would be after putting hairspray on it, right? So he had to let everyone in the class touch his shirt and exclaim over the stickiness. Then he and the teacher had a conversation about "Zout," the best stain remover on the market. Better than doing math, I guess.

I only went to work for about two hours before the previously mentioned cramps drove me home to bed. But while I was at work, rearranging the Snowbabies display on a new shelf, I heard this little old woman talking to a pig wearing a dress. Well, a stuffed animal pig. But still. Who talks to stuffed animals in a store when anyone can hear you? Crazy.

I am in the process of reading Cyrano de Bergerac en Fran├žais. It's a tedious process. The original text translated into an english version isn't much better, so I'll do my best with the french one. Goodnight.