After I got shooed out of the library today, I waited for my ride in my school's main office. The office keeps copies of old yearbooks in its shelves, and I tried to see if I could find my jazz teacher's picture (he is around 25 years old). Indeed, I found his senior portrait, in which he smiled a very goofy smile (although he makes the funniest faces during class anyway). Then I flipped a page or two and happened upon the senior portrait of the really-mean-sarcastic-and-yet-hothothot! drum instructor that used to work with our school band. I was dumbstruck! To anyone else in the office who happened to glance at me in that moment, I would have looked like a DAMN GOOGLY-EYED FOOL. But still! It was great. He had a crooked smile and longer hair and everything.

See, I would *hate* it if people looked me up in the yearbook. This generally timeless notion is compounded this year, because my senior pictures are greater than or equal to ASSLIKE. I hate the idea that if I were ever to become famous or something, people would look at my senior pictures and judge me on the basis of my pained expression and/or my maniacal laughing expression and/or my dead expression (I have no frickin' idea which picture is going in the yearbook). It's cringe-inducing. However, I love looking at other people's yearbook pictures, and it does not change my perspective of them. That last part, of course, was a lie; but not a conscious lie. Usually, a derfy picture of someone else will not harm my opinion of him/her. I am a lot less judgmental toward others than I sometimes think people are toward me -- "think" being the key word, because I know most people don't really care about others anyway.

One weird thing is that somehow, I was nominated in the senior superlative category as "Most Laid Back." ??? I am more in tune with a superlative like "Least Deserving of any 'Best/Worst/Most' Superlative Recognition, Except For This One Right Here." I didn't get to vote on this because the forms were handed out during social studies classes, and I take government class online. Erin told me that I was nominated, but when I asked my friends about it they said things like, "You're not laid back!" and "Oh, you were NOMinated? I only read the first two names in each category." So, in summation, superlatives = one big ass party.

The same thing happened when I was nominated for "Best Writer" in 8th grade -- people were like, "Oh, you were NOMinated? I just automatically pick the first of each category's three names because I'm somewhat of a moron." Dayum.