We are fighting students

Oy.
I present to you a video of my class de-stressing.
The video was edited by a friend of mine, Nancy. Nancy is nice.
I recorded it, which is why the image sucks. Next time I'll weasel the good camera away from my sister.
EDIT: Mauricio pointed out that I forgot to say that this whole thing is really thanks to him. You see, sections of our class have been divided into barrios (neighbourhoods). Each barrio has a sign with their name on it (for example, I am in the "Barrio Sta. Chuéder"). Then we try to rip eachother's signs down. This is what is taking place in the video.

The song is GO!!! by Flow.

Welcome to the guided tour of my school...

...please keep head, arms, legs and all other limbs you might have safely inside, and do not stick them out the window, because a kid tried that once and got stuck. Yes, he did. He's called Julio. And then the vice principal came out of her office, but luckily she didn't look up.

I've been meaning for ages to take some photos of my school and post them, so as to reveal to the world the cruel fate that we, as students, must endure every day.
No, I'm not kidding (Hehehe).

Anyway, here are a few. Click for full size.

Let's kick off with this one. It was taken from the hall, which I guess isn't really a hall. It's a sort of a balcony - corridor thing. Anyway, this is the schoolyard a few minutes after recess, which is when we get a few moments to laze around, while the teachers prepare for their next class, which should have started already (although I'm sure they're actually lazing around, too). The people you see strolling around are theoretically not supposed to be there. They're just sneaky little minxes looking for prey.

Next! Ok, see, if you're facing the blackboard in the classroom, the previous photo is on the right side. On the left side, our view consists of this. On the top, the railing is from the first years' classrooms. Underneath that is the pricipal's office, teacher's lounge, etc. On the ground, you can see lots of little black dots. That's gum, left by our predecessors. This photo was taken from the window in our classroom that has no glass, which is good on hot days, but on chilly days it sucks.

Okay. Here we can see one of the many guys who refuses to look at the camera (Emmanuel). He was playing that game where you put your hand on a flat surface and stab at the spaces between your fingers. The hand belongs to another guy (Mikey, although everybody misspells it as Mickey). I don't know why they do it, but luckily they haven't stabbed themselves. Yet. On the board behind them is some stuff from Math class, which some people still haven't gotten yet. Just a few minutes after this, someone who shall not be named (coughGodoycough) couldn't figure out how to square 1/5 b. Also, in this photo you can see a clear, though rather lacking, example of the decoration on our chairs. We work hard to make the school a better and more beautiful place. Although everybody here is very humble, and I'm sure nobody would voluntarily take credit for these works of art.

Last photo for now: people fleeing at the end of the day. I could tell you that the photo is blurry because I have no photographic skills, but it's really on purpouse. Yes. Because... it transmits the message better. And... er, everybody was running. Exactly.

Test thingy

You Are 60% Boyish and 40% Girlish

You are pretty evenly split down the middle - a total eunuch. Okay, kidding about the eunuch part. But you do get along with both sexes. You reject traditional gender roles. However, you don't actively fight them. You're just you. You don't try to be what people expect you to be.

How Boyish or Girlish Are You?

Pretty accurate, methinks.
Test from Blogthings.

The world is happy after all

Today I went to the orthodontist, so naturally I was not in good spirits. You see, one is never really very happy when--- oh, stuff it.

I GOT MY BRACES OFF!!! I'M EFFING FREE NOW, YAY!!!!!

There. You must understand that I needed to get that out of my system.

I feel so happy right now, I could... um, do something that shows I'm happy. Oh, I could kiss you. Yes, that would do (unless you're Michael Jackson. That would definitely not do. P.S., Mike, if you're reading this, please do not touch your nose anymore. Nobody wants to see that. No, really. Nobody.)
So there I was, at the orthodontist, and she was poking around in my mouth as usual, when she suddenly whipped out some menacing pliers (pliers, you say? Yes, I also thought there must be something less primitive she could use. Oh, well) and, chomp! Half of my top braces were gone. Then she stops and tells me to wait a moment, walks over to her desk, and puts on some music.
Let me seize this chance to mention that my orthodontist has a very peculiar -albeit good- taste for music. Last time I visited, it was tribal music. This time it was popular music from the 1940s.
Then comes the bad news. Two years of retainers.

Nuts.

But still, until Friday, I don't have to think about that. Teehee.