school is rated NC-17

Yesterday I went out to coffee with my mom. A man sifting through The New York Times asked my mom and I who won the game on Saturday. I didn't know there had been a game, or even what kind of sport was played. It reminded me of a problem on a math quiz I took in eighth grade -- it wandered through the proverbial corn field of terminology like "innings" and "pitchers," and I never found my way out. I was also reminded of this on Wednesday of last week. Half of my health class was gone that day. The biology classes went on a field trip to the zoo, something that last year's biology students were not able to take part in, which makes me bitter. I told Di that the science department should compensate by letting last year's biology students take two trips to the zoo and/or a trip the zoo and a day off.

"You mean 'or," she said. "'Two trips the zoo or a trip the zoo and a day off.' Otherwise you'd have three trips to the zoo and a day off."

"Exactly," I hissed through a toothy grin.

But I digress. Last Wednesday when I was in health class, we put in the movie "Sandlot" given the low attendance that day. A girl sitting a few rows over whose pretend pill-induced rack sags down to her stomach declared in a harsh whine, "I'm sorry, but a fifth-grader who hasn't played baseball before? That's pathetic." I said nothing of my childhood devoid of playing catch, or the one time when I played sports outside of school an ended up slipping on a patch of muddy grass on my way to third base and slicing my lips open with my teeth. My gym teacher in seventh grade snared at me to stifle my sarcasm when I asked her how to play keep-away -- I still don't know how to play, although the name gives me a vague idea.

As I was returning from coffee yesterday, I wondered why some diaries have disclaimers warning minors against their content. If they think a rating is necessary for their diary, they might as well rate the public school system.