First Day of Classes :/

I discovered something funny about two of my classes today. I have English and Humanities on Monday and Wednesday. My English teacher is a funny-looking, sort of youngish woman with a pale, pale face and red hair. She talks VERY VERY fast. I hardly could keep up with the whole discussion. There was no time to THINK, which I think is important in literature.
On the other hand, my Humanities teacher is SO SLOW that I end up losing track of what I am learning. I think he may forget what he's saying himself halfway through the sentence. He's a lot older, too. And he has a lot of "soapbox" moments, too. I worry I may fall asleep in his class.

So yeah. First day of classes. :/ Hopefully these two teachers will cancel each other out.

Fight

"Well, Jacob, some things are just important to me!" she screamed, running into the bathroom to try and erase the blemishes that appeared under her eyes, made up of mascara, sweat, and tears.
"I already told you I'm sorry!" he answered from the other side of the bedroom. His hands were at his sides, as if surrendering.
"But you're NOT!" she screamed, stomping back out of the bathroom again without even completely reaching up to run her finger across her eyelids before another cascade of tears left their prints across her cheeks. "You wanna know what your problem is? You. Don't. CARE!" The last word ended in a choke, a wretched sob, and then another and another. She's buckling over now, as if the weeping were possessing her. "About anybody!" her mouth moved but nothing came out. She looked up at him with searching eyes, but all she found was a gape. A worthless gape that proved even further that he understood nothing.
All he could do was stare. Suddenly his wife had become someone else; a monster about to swallow her with her gaping mouth and roaring sobs. What could he do? He dare not run. She would always out-run him, out-scream him, out-push him. Where had this started? The tube of lip stick? The phone call? The bill notice lying on the table? He could not remember. All that took his mind was this thing that was crouching over the bed, shaking, wailing.
Finally one word escaped his lips. "Honey..."
"Don't 'honey' me!" She screamed, suddenly losing the sobs that had so overcome her just seconds ago. "I hate it when you call me honey! I hate it when anybody calls me honey! I want honey to go to HELL!"
"Okay! Hannah. Please. Look at yourself! Just look at yourself for at least a minute! One MINUTE!?" Suddenly the words poured from his lips. It was not like him to talk so much without thinking. He was always the one in control; patient, forgiving, almost all-knowing at times. But suddenly feelings began to rush to his head like vomit and there was only one way out. "I don't care? I don't care about the fact that my child is in your womb now, waiting to come out into... this?? You think I don't care about you? Geez, I only let you walk all over me because it feels good?? You think I take your... your baggage around because I feel like it, huh? Am I a bad husband? Do you regret marrying me? Are you better off without --"
"SHUT UP!" She screamed.
"SHUT UP!" He replied
She lunged from her place beside the bed across the white covers. He flinched out of reflex, but there was little need. Her fist swung at his face, but there was so little control it hardly hit his shoulder. She crashed onto the bed, sprawled out like an oozing ball of tears and snot. And there she stayed, completely miserable. He stood above her, completely lost. There they stayed for eight seconds... three sniffles from her, six deep heaves of breath from him. Finally, out of the corner of her wet, stinging eyes, she could see his shadow on the carpet sink away toward its founding source of the downstairs lights.
"No," she moaned. "No, no, n-n-no, no wait. Wait! WAIT!" She sat up, her eyes fixed upon his retreating shadow. "Don't go!"
The figure stopped and turned. She finally snapped her head towards his own.
"Don't go! Please, no!" She was now a child, clambering on her hands and knees as quickly as she could across the mattress, nearly tumbling head first over the edge of the bed, forgetting how to walk as she dove at his form. "I-I don't want you to go! No-no I didn't mean it! I didn't mean it!"
She clutched at his chest with her groping hands and dove her face into his neck, drowning it in tears.
"I didn't mean it! I want you to stay! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it! I didn't mean it! I really love you!" More tears.
He put his arms across her back, buried his face in her wild brown hair and rocked side to side, cradling his beloved monster-child of a wife, chanting, "I know, I know. Me too, me too. I know I know."
There they stood, rocking and weeping and chanting, until finally her words came out, "I hate this fight and I never wanna fight again. Never, never, never!"

First Apartment Dreams

I had some funny dreams last night. I was in my new apartment, sleeping in this bed for the first time. It got very hot, so I woke up once or twice, so I had a few completely separate dreams.
First off... I dreamt I was traveling across a green landscape on a train with a bunch of my friends from church and from high school. We stopped at this big hotel and Mike Sanderson was giving piggy-back rides there. I got one. But then I saw Jordan Beal and suddenly we started this teenage romance thing. He asked me if I was his friend or his enemy. I said friend and then he let me wear his big lumberjack sweater. It wasn't long til we were both under the sweater, keeping warm together.
Then Sister Mason came in and told us she was pregnant. The Deavens were worried about whether or not that meant they could still have their voice recitals.

Then I dreamt that I was flying kites out on a dock next to the wild ocean. It was night time, and I was in my underwear. It began to rain. Then, out of nowhere, I was up on the kite ... still almost naked. Eminem was down there, "flying" me into the rain. Then a giant red and black fish came out of the water and snapped at me. Eminem said that he wouldn't let me die; he'd save me. So he flew me higher so that the fish could never reach me.

Yes, interesting dreams.
The one with Jordan felt very real. Suddenly I like him again.

How to Train Your Dragon

I finally saw the movie How to Train your Dragon, although I was hesitant. If it wasn't at the dollar theater, I wouldn't have gone with my cousin and her friend Spencer to see it. When I first saw previews for it, I thought it would be just another animated Dreamworks knock-off. I didn't like Shrek all that much, and Madagascar was only funny once (and don't get me started on the sequels!).
But when these two people were over at my house, they told me OVER and OVER again that it was one of the best movies of the year. Spencer had seen it TEN TIMES already. Who sees a movie ten times? That's like fifty bucks! So I figured it must be good so I went.
It was a good movie. Of course it wasn't the greatest movie ever, but there were definitely some moments that had me completely awestruck. The 3D animation was so real!! I didn't even see the actual "3D" version (I am avoiding that at all costs), but the beards, the scales, the water, the grass... it looked almost too real for comfort. And of course I liked the movie a lot better when I found out GERARD BUTLER played the voice of Hiccup's father. Hiccup himself was a very believable teenager. I haven't quite seen one with such dry humor and awkward behavior yet in an animated movie. He sort of reminded me of my cousin Taggart, which was really cool.
What I didn't like about the movie sort of makes me sound like a killjoy. Vikings never fought dragons. Dragons don't exist. They never did exist. Maybe I'm missing some mythological background, but why Vikings and Dragons? Perhaps I need to do some research before I go straight to this judgement.

Helena's Movie Rating: 3/4

Good for: families, goofy friend movies, a pick-me-up

PS Doesn't Toothless look like a cat??