I Wish I Was Allergic to Gluten

I'm gonna say this at the beginning, because a lot of the time people just skim my post.
I KNOW WHO YOU ARE.
Haha, no I don't care. When I'm tired I skim.
But anyway, if you want me to follow you, just ask. I don't want anyone to feel like I'm not being fair.
I can't go through every person that comments me and add them, because half the time it's someone that never comes back to my blog. So they're getting my comment love, but I'm not getting any.

Tiffany didn't behave last night. She freaked out by the door and everything.
But I tricked her by giving her treats. I grabbed her and forced her under the blankets and held her in my arms so that she couldn't move.
The end result?

I call it zzzzz.
She stayed there the rest of the night, curled up in my arms purring. She woke up a couple times, looked at me, licked my arm, and then curled up even tighter and went back to sleep.
Because of this, she lives another day.

But anyway, went to school today. Learned me some books.
Math is actually cake for me right now. It's sort of surprising. I even answered a question right that no one else in the class did.
"Where does the line intercept?"
Everyone: "FOOOOOOOUR."
Me staring blankly at the teacher after everyone stopped saying four: "Zero, four."

He smirked at me and then said I was right. I was like booya biznatches. That'll teach you for giving me dirty looks when you think I'm not looking.
My history teacher's mean, though.
I hadn't eaten breakfast yet. I was STARVING. So I got a small bag of gardettos from the vending machine and brought them in to class. I opened them quietly, set them on my desk, they crinkled a teeeeny tiiiiiny bit and he turned around and said "Could we refrain from bringing breakfast into class? It's distracting."
So I had to sit there STARING AT MY OPEN GARDETTOS for an hour and a half, but I couldn't touch them.
Torture much?
So I took them to my sociology class and she couldn't give a crap about it. It helps that I'm good about particpating in class and staring her down.
Yeah, I stare all my teachers down. It's my way of showing them I'm listening.
Or pretending to listen and I'm just reeeeeally good at staring.

But now onto the title of this post.
There's a guy in my history class that sits in front of me named Mark.
He's nice, kind of the same gamer-type I usually hang out with.
But after history he walked me to my sociology class and then we made plans to go to lunch.
So we go to lunch with my other friend KC, and then he tells us he's allergic to gluten.
I'm happy we went to Denny's. At least Denny's has eggs and hashbrowns and stuff, so he could eat.
But he said it's so hard for him to put on weight because he's allergic to gluten.
Damn, I wish I had that problem.
It would also keep me from eating a lot of unhealthy processed crap.
It's like god's way of saying "You're a chosen one... I will protect you from the deadly over-processed food by causing you to have stomach cysts if you eat iiiiiiiiit!"

Then we left and KC and I went to spanish.
That class is so... I don't have a word for it. It's actually not boring. It's just extremely long.
I like that she always has us split into groups. I work a lot better with my peers that have the same troubles as me. We can work through it together as opposed to feeling stupid for asking a question.
Plus my teacher likes me. Probably because I volunteer a lot.
Let's look back on this blog post and determine something: Lee is a brown-noser.
But I could care less. If it helps me pass through school I will take my title with pride.
I volunteered to answer a question that I didn't even know.
"I'll do it! ... oh crap."
She spoon-fed me the answer and still congratulated me when I got it. Oh well, you win some you lose some.

I also found a bruise on the back of my head. No idea where I got it, but I did learn something from it. It hurts to poke bruises. *poke* Ow. *poke* OW. *poke* WHY DO I KEEP POKING IT?

Keeping up to pace with yesterday's post, here's the picture of my hair and my outfit. Sadly, I deleted the one of the back of the shirt. The top of the back is opened up and it has two strips of criss-cross fabric. Woo open-backed shirts!

As is customary now thanks to Yaya:


And of course, my Wordle:
If I haven't commented your blog yet, don't worry. I'm doing it all tonight before bed. I just have to rush off. Got a message from my Left 4 Dead buddy Jessie: "GET ON!"