Weird Shit Part 3 + Hot Teachers

Okay, so Jade and I decided to do a double post about the same topic (to compare writing styles and shit). We discussed how she's a far better blogger than I could ever be, simply because I suck at description. I am very literal in my writing, so I can't write analogies for shit. It's probably because of my math/physics background. And also because, although I read a lot, I don't write that much, and description is just fucking difficult. I mean, how many times can one describe how green the fucking grass is?

Anyway, Last night, we were doing our usual thing, staying out late at a restaurant and just talking (cause we're I'm not legally old enough to go clubbing yet). But I love our late-night talks, that are usually about everything and nothing. None of us can wake up early enough to actually *gasp* meet at a respectable time, like, say around 4 in the afternoon, so, instead we wake up at that time, and meet around 9 or 10. Thank God Pizza Pizza's open until 2am.
Anyway, so while we were snarfing down our halves of the X-large pizza (we're teenagers—we get hungry) and talking about life in general, these guys walk in. Queen of the oblivious that I am, I don't even notice one of the guys talking to us until Jade starts clearing her throat and pointing behind me, repeatedly saying my name.
So I turn around and here is this guy giving us this full-on leer. Like seriously? Don't you have somewhere else to be? And then he starts talking. I can't really remember what he said (I have a horrible memory, especially about things I don't like or find interesting—it's as if my brain deliberately tries to block it out), but I think it was something like, "Yo, beautiful girls, nigga. What you doin' here, just chill?" And I was just thinking, what the fuck was he saying?
One other guy tried to talk to us as well, while the other two (who looked a little more sober) just turned red with embarrassment for their friend. But he gave up eventually as well.
But the initial guy just wouldn't let go. He kept asking us where we were from, what university we were going to, and just kept talking about how he was studying Mechanical Engineering at York. Engineering? This idiot? Well, I can believe he got in, but I won't believe that he's actually passing, or even showing up to class. I asked him about how he was going to pay off the tuition if he failed. And he said he didn't have to, because it was a loan. Uh, correct my understanding, but doesn't having a loan mean you have to pay it off? And he also kept talking about his bling. Yes, his bling. "Dis is my bling, nigga!" He would say, pointing to this really tacky and ostentatious gold ring and necklace that he was wearing.
And it went on like that for the entire night (there was this pause though, when they went out to smoke more weed). The cashier at the Pizza Pizza was really annoyed by their noisiness, and looked at us with pity for having to talk to the loser. I was honestly so annoyed that I eventually gave monosyllabic answers and Jade was left having to deal with him. He had this really heavy african accent, crooked yellow teeth, hair covering his eyes, and just overall looked like a hobo. And he was hitting on us.
Why me? Why can't some hot, articulate, intelligent guy actually hit on us? Why does it have to be these losers? Now I understand why the pretty girls in some movies are bitches. It really gets annoying when you have to deal with this type of shit all the time.
And, literally, it happens all the time. Maybe it's because of the time we go out? Like, another time at another Pizza Pizza, we were sitting there, talking and laughing, and this guy came up to us and said, "I don't mean to sound creepy, but I just wanted to let you know that my friend thinks you're very beautiful." He was pretty nice, but it was still creepy, since it was around 2am, so when they offered us a ride home when we were freezing our asses off at the bus stop, we (well, Jade, really, since I've never minded car rides with strangers—even though my friends do, for some reason) had to refuse. Now, thinking about last night, I would definitely prefer those guys to the drunk pothead that interrupted our conversation and just wouldn't leave. And then, another time, when we were walking randomly and talking, these guys felt the need to pull over, and ask where we were from. I'm sorry, but what gives you the right to talk to me? Especially when you look like you're friggin' forty years old?
I think I come off a little cold, because they always end up talking to Jade in the end, who has to politely give them the brush off.
I mean, I wouldn't mind guys hitting on me, if they were actually hot, and possessed some sort of intelligent personality. But nooo, it has to either be hobos, or guys who look like they're old enough to be my father.

Okay, rant over. I'm done with that shit, and I don't want to have to think about it again.

Anyway, night school started for me, so now I'm incredibly busy four days a week. I have to wake up at the ungodly hour of 6am to get to work (since it takes two hours to get there), finish at 2pm, and go straight to the area where my nightschool is, so I have two hours to spare in which I do my homework (well, really, I just waste time, but I'll get into the habit of doing it... eventually), and then go straight to class, which starts at 6:30, and ends at 9:30. So I come home around ten, play around on the computer for like thirty minutes, take off my makeup, and then drop dead on my bed. And that's my schedule from Monday to Thursday.
I really fucking hate Mondays now.
But I just have to survive until June, then I'm done with nightschool, and I'm quitting that job, and working for ♪ Wonderland ♪. Oh yeah, it's going to be awesome.
But, yeah, I just started nightschool, and, let me tell you, my Calculus and Vectors teacher is grade-A hot. I think he's a university student, because he looks really young, but ohmygawd, I just couldn't stop staring at him. And I seriously don't know what's wrong with me, because this infatuation feeling is really getting annoying. I'm definitely going to ace all my tests and do my homework—just so he notices me. LOL, and if that's not creepy, I don't know what is. I feel so bipolar whenever I'm in that class. I think the combination of teenage hormones and still being a fricking virgin (lemme tell you, we have slim pickings) is finally getting to me. The saying that no one is hornier than a virgin is proving to be true.
And on another note, all my nightschool teachers are actually competent. They're not math teachers who have to teach physics (I've had a teacher like that before, and he just copied the textbook for everything—because no matter what anyone says, physics is a lot harder and different than math), or Phys-Ed teachers that have to teach bio (easiest marks evaar).
That means I'm either going to fail miserably, or, God forbid, actually learn something, and have to do my homework. Man, I wish June would just come already.