Inner Child, and School's Out

So, school was done on Tuesday.  I actually ended up being quite happy with my grades, and that was because I made sure I got an A in Gym.  In the end it ended up being surprisingly easy.  It wasn't about trying harder, showing effort, talking to him about my grade and how to improve it, or being on time for class.  In the end it was all about going into his office on the last day of school and NOT LEAVING until he said he'd change it.  He sent teachers and students that wanted to talk to him away because I was just standing there, waiting for him to actually listen to me.  I had to keep telling myself over and over again, "This is the last time he'll ever be my teacher; it's ok if I annoy him-- I won't have to talk to him ever again."  With this thought in mind, I stayed in his office while he took phone calls, did email, for over five minutes.  Finally, he just looked up and said, "Alright, I'll fix your grade and give you an A."  If I'd known that the A would only require five minutes of bitchiness, I would have tried it months earlier.  But it all ended up good-- I got a 93 (instead of a 88) in Gym for quarter four.  And, to date, I still have never gotten a B on a report card.  Yay!  I was so happy like dancing and giggling and such when I checked my grades on my computer.  And yah, I deserved that A.  I have a job at a creative arts camp.  Today was set-up for the camp, which was really hard work.  It involved carrying many tables and chairs from building to building (not fun).  After that, I went with two my friends to a cafe downtown and met with an acquaintance from 8th grades little brother, and his friend, to work on script writing and filming.  It was only an hour-long meeting, but in that period the boy was so condescending and authoritative that I found myself asking this 11 year old if I had permission to speak.  My friends were laughing their asses off at me, it was mildly embarrassing.  But, as they put he, "He totally owned you."  He really did.  He managed to make me feel like a five year old seeking approval to do a project from a student at a fancy art college, instead of a 9th grader including a 6th grader in a project.  And he actually had the nerve to tell me to shut up, explaining, "You can speak, but you can't gab.  You are gabbing.  Stop."  I mean, I generally think that I'm a person with decent intellect, but I have to be totally with it to even attempt to keep up with this boy.  It's terrifying.  Perhaps I am a glutton for public humiliation, but I agreed to another meeting, this coming Wednesday...