Well, I've been out for a while. A new grade on school. A new step forward. I've been doing homework, attending classes,doing chores, eating at the cafeteria, reading books, studying, writing essays. I was really optimistic.

Sometimes things are not as we want them to be.

Some weeks ago, it rained a lot, I watched the awful Rebuild of Evangelion 2.O and more. Those are little problems yet.

Well, some time ago I noticed I failed both Literature and and Latin. I couldn't believe I failed Literature. I read the two whole books, I participated on class... well, teacher is really mean, but she's a brilliant orator, and a terryfic teacher. The test are about the books we read, and she wants us to have a perfect redaction, of course. A really few people had a passing note on this quarter, using the extra point the teacher gave for the assistance of a non-obligatory conference. I wasn't so angry, but I thought I should make another efforts.

Thinking about the gold the extra points are on this so, ubject, I helped with money and some handwork with a poster we made for Dia de Muertos. Next day, the project coordinators just took in all their friends for the final work, no mattering about how much have they done before, and cut off the last part of the handwork colaborators list. I was out. I really didn't mind, but all people that participated the last day was passed this quarter, and have ensured a 10 for the next one.

I could live with this. In fact, I can.

The thing about Latin is worst. The teacher is awful, a bitch that is always arriving late. I passed the first two tests. One day, we were waiting for her outside from the classrooms asiles, as we normally do. Strangely, she was already in classroom that day, but we didn't noticed that. We only watched her walking out quickly, muttering a "The class exercises are written on blackboard"

So, next class she told us that day started a new rule: There's no test without exercises on hand. C'mon! That was a test day, we didn't bring the notebook! In fact, she never checked exercises. She just talks one day and give us a test next day. In fact, she is too lazy to write and copy her own tests: we have to write the questions on a sheet. I didn't the last test and I failed the subject.

At the end of quarter, she told us how dissapointed she was on an humilliating way. She started to act as a queen, as we didn't deserved her lessons. At that time I didn't understood why she was that so despot and why she wears really nice clothes XD.

The answer is the reason 'cause I'm here, defeated.

With my face exploding for the blush, I wrote my mom a message where I told her the truth. My mom heard really, really sad when she talked back to my cell phone. It really hurted, but I was happy to hear some encouraging words from her.

So then I started to work to start again.

I looked for a way my friends and me could change to another Optative Subject different from Latin. My Culture History tecaher accepted us at Mexican Revolution, and he told us the steps and details to be accepeted there officially. He signed in a petition letter with our whole names and account numbers and he told us we must deliver that to the Academic Secretary.

When we arrived with this man, we gave him the paper and he muttered an "Wow, but this is the Leading Lady..." What? We didn't understood. He told us we should gave this to the school's principal, Antonio Meza, to sign in it before authorizing the change.

Meza is my Philosophy teacher. This is his only regular class. Today we asked him about the letter we sent him some days before. He told us that the change was IMPOSSIBLE.

What the hell was he talking about?!! He continued talking and said he feel pity for us, because we were wasting the chance of learning from the best Latin and Greek teacher ever, winner of blah, blah, and that she traveled to blah, blah. He didn't hear us. He was really obstinated. Still wearing my Kuro lolita dress, I say we really wanted the change 'cause that teacher misses classes regularly and Meza exploded. The stupid and well-dressed bitch turned out to be his wife, who buys her frilly blouses and fancy silk ties for her husband with school's money.(A really known school's-gossip)

Again: an excellent teacher, and that full-of-lie trash. "She can't be missing at classes, 'cause we arrive at 7:00 AM everyday. Hot Verbal diahorrea. When it really made me want to plunge my umbrella's tip in his shitty head, was when he said: "You girls, don't really know what are you talking about. You want to exchange the best Latin teacher for -caustic joke tone- Lisjuan. C'mon!(...)"

Lisjuan is that kind teacher that accepted me at his class. He has a doctorate on History, and is passionately specialized on La Nueva España. His only fail is to have an extremely quiet voice tone, but he could be an excellent teacher if you can hear him. I went to a school trip to Puebla some days ago, and when he explained us the meanings of artistic symbols on all different churchs I was really fascinated. He is about to ask for a year's sabbatical to make an investigation on Canary Islands... he have traveled too by all the Mediterranean along, so he wouldn't be that so surprised about the Latin's bitch couple of travels.

Meza continued bitching many minutes. He scrubbed on our faces too,as his beloved sweetie did before, the fact that a girl passed Latin with a 10. When we tried to tell him that she was the only one to pass on the whole group, he continued talking childishly, ignoring us. He made a fool of himself in front of the whole class. When we could sit down at least, I made a great effort to don't cry in front of that pile of shit. Just a pair of tears. A really hold rage after. Meza asked me, mockingly, what a Frontispiece was. I knew the answer, but I answered with a caustic "I dunno". He laughed and turned back, saying there was the reason 'cause I needed a little more classes of latin. Behind of his back, I smiled heavy of sarcasm and muttered "Pendejo" (a heavy way to say "Deeply Stupid" in Spanish). Later, I wanted to look for Academic Secretary trying to get another exit way, and I walked right front to Meza to say I was going to the bathroom. He seemed scared and moved back about a meter and a half far from me XD I don't know what did he think I was going to do him, but I'm happy to have made him feel like this. I didn't find that man, and I walked back to classroom hopeless.

At Math, teacher Manuel noticed me and my friends were really sad. We explained him all it and he took us with a friend of him that works on the Scholar Services Windows. That kind woman told us that we should go straight with her before. We didn't because most of women on Services Windows provide a bad service, and we don't trust on them. Julia is different. As data bases things are the work of this women and not really of Meza,(I think now that stupid Academic Secretary is a damn bootlicker) she asked us for our names and account numbers.... and in fact, we had copies of the petition letter signed by Lisjuan! "That's even better-she said- that's all" We all hugged gratefully Math teacher crying of happiness, 'cause we had leave Latin class a lot of days ago with no right to turn back, and without another class, we should have an extra test by the end of scholar year; an extra obstacle right before the College .

Life was beautiful again. I prayed God grateful, 'cause I thought life was awful and unfair against dictators as Meza, but now I remembered there are yet kind people too, as Math teacher, Lisjuan, or Julia, the woman on the Services Window.

Back to home, my rage against Meza increased. I'm deeply angry with him yet. I hate him. (This is not the only thing from he have washed his filthy hands out)My dad asked me how my day went. I couldn't refrain myself to call about this incident, of course, being careful of not say anything about my Latin's leaving.

I hoped maybe not a hug, but some comfort words, those "Damn teacher" that only parents can give us. Instead of this, I got a sharp scolding. My father was at Meza's side... maybe. I'm sure he wasn't on mine. He said that there's a big difference between being demanding and ask for things politely. What was that shit?! I was polite! Meza started with the childish obstination. He understimated my final goal, telling me that Meza could blow me out whenever he wants. Shortly, he told me that was a big stupidity,a really lack of respect and that I should keep staying on Latin. He thinks I'm only having a non-important tantrum with more losses than wins.

I went straight to my room.

Inside there, the doll finally broke down.

I cryed, I cryed a lot right before writing this. My father never hears me. The same with my career. When I want some comfort, he hurts me more that anybody else. He doesn't believe on my decisions. He have made world seem terrible, without any hope. That's maybe the reason because I decided to turn into a Lolita. I believe yet about world's and dreams beauty, but my father is painting my world dark while I'm growing. He's not a bit interested about what I like or what I think. I hear his sharp commentaries about my love for art and I fall into pieces. Gosh, I'm crying again. Luckily, there's nobody watching me now.

I took out my frilly dress and put in my pajamas. So then, I started to write this know. I don't want to feel defeated anymore by anything or anybody.

Some hours ago, I told my boyfriend I was angry 'cause Meza's tantrum made me lose elegancy by kicking walls or hitting doors with my umbrella with rage. After I explained him the thing with my father, he send me a message that said that Lolitas were adorable, but they were proud ladies yet.

Steel Magnolias: Soft petals outside, hard metal inside. So then, some things don't deserve our tears. I'm hurt, but I feel diferently optimistic now, I think.