Eww=8 times 4 divided by pie subtract 2

I was so excited for 8th grade last year. I think 8th grade might actually be worse than last year.
I can tell I shouldn't be in algebra 1. Mr. Power, my math teacher assigned us to seats alphabetically, which means I sit next to this mega-pop guy who really doesn't like me. Mr. Power really seems to know what he's doing. I started to think maybe I'll pass this class, get a good grade in math this year. Than he put a problem up on the board for us to solve, and every ones pencils flew across the page, except for mine. I didn't get it. Than Mr. Power came over to me, and just looked over at my nearly empty page through his deep set eyes, than he looked up at me. My cheeks got hot and I started to scribble random things on my paper to look like I was somewhat successful.
Math was not the only suckish part of the day,
French was horrifying. I didn't comprehend a bit of what Mrs. New was saying. And Frenchie is in my class, which makes people like me, barely skimming through English, look even worse in french.
I don't have anything to complain about in Language A, but I think its that we get to blog later on in the year, yes it may be about books, but still.
The only sort of okay part of the day, was science with Mr. Brooklyn. The first thing you notice about him is that his glasses bust be a few centimeters thick. He was really nervous, I kind of felt sorry for him. Especially when he started talking about power rangers and GI Joe, I wished my ears had an off switch so I wouldn't have to hear the kids around me laugh at him. I know that he wont put me on the spot in his class, and that I wont have to do much work to pass, which is good. So like Mr. Brooklyn. Flaws and all.

Happy birthday mother dear.