9/26/13-"How many of you have seen your own bones?"

Thursday.  Let's see.  What's a Thursday?

In choir...no poltergeists today.  Not a whole lot happened, actually.  Two seniors who are partnering up to create a symphony for their senior project (J and G, in fact, whom I helped with some chords the other day and mentioned in this diary-thing) came intending to recruit some choir members for it.  There were some technical difficulties, though, so we didn't end up being able to hear the electronic recording of the piece they had arranged.

We went through our songs, then had a music theory pretest, which was easy for me since I've taken piano lessons for over nine years now.

In Econ, we did a trading game.  I ended up with a ten dollar profit.  The greatest profit in our class was $24, so I didn't do too badly, I guess.

At lunch, E. and I thought there would be another Thursday jam session, but there wasn't, so we ended up eating lunch with the Nordic team in the art room.  I played my ukelele on request.  E. had an adventure concerning the biochem homework she had left in her locker, but I cannot recount satisfactorily.

In Spanish, we discussed what constitutes friendship and talked about our friends and so forth.  We also danced the hula again, but this time, Sra. R. turned off the projector so we had to follow the commands by ear rather than watching what we were supposed to be doing.  Somehow, I ended up in front.  Luckily, I didn't forget the choreography or the verbal cues.

In Anatomy, we took a quiz over the video we had watched last class.  We were allowed to use notes if we had taken them. 

I had taken notes.

I'd just forgotten them at home.

Luckily, most of the questions were broad enough that if you just wrote a lot about the subject, you would probably happen across the correct answer.  I couldn't, however, remember what a CT scan stood for, so I wrote "something topography".

When it was time to trade-and-grade, I traded with N.  He got them all right except for the CT scan one, too, which he had left blank.  The real answer was "computerized tomography", but Mr. M. said there was half-credit for topography instead of tomography.

During the course of correcting quizzes, we discussed a question regarding the significance of seeing one's own bones in the early days of the x-ray.

"How many of you have seen your own bones?" Mr. M. asked.  "Not in an x-ray."

The boy in front of me had seen one of the bones in his leg--the fibula, I think--as the result of a skateboarding accident.  Beside me, N. winced at the thought of it.

"Makes me queasy."

Someone else had scraped their ankle to the bone once, which I found actually more disturbing than the broken leg.  I don't know why.  It's making my skin crawl as I write this.

"But you know what," Mr. M. remarked.  "You see some of your bones every day."  He pointed to his mouth.  "Yes, your teeth are bones.  In fact, I missed last class because I had a dentist appointment.  Still cavity-free--never had one."

N.'s expression was of disbelief.  "What, do you have enamel of rock?"

"Well, my dad was a dentist and my mom was a dental hygienist, so..."

N. looked at me, his face easy to read but difficult to describe.  "I've had about five and a half thousand cavities," he told me, which I shall assume was exaggeration.

After school, I walked to the public library to meet with my senior project mentor.  I'd forgotten the paperwork she needed to sign, so we'll be meeting again on Monday.  Same time, same place.

Walked the rest of the way home and arrived before the bus would have dropped me off had I ridden it.

The End

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