losing focus "porpoise"-fully

I am not going to look for anything anymore, and that is that. It is my new goal-less goal. I think we have the meta-pizza to thank for this one.
I have placas. This signifies a pussing of the throat, and, in my case, of the entire head. My head is a puffer fish, and instead of rising it is sinking. It is a real shame, and I bark like a seal approximately every 5 minutes.
Today was a night of Anglo-isms and tonight was a day of disappointment in the program. I do not belong in Spanish level 200. Unless you feel like reading about my frustrations with the program, please ski(p/m) until the next paragraph. I know people in the level higher than my own, and I know I know at least as much as they do if not more. I knowknowknow it. I don't just thinkthinkthink it. I knoooow it. A multiple choice language test has not ever been comprehensive. When I was in high school, I always did worse on the multiple choice final than I had the entire year. Those in authooority do not sit in on these classes ill-suited for people with a genuine intermediate understanding of the language. They do not hear the effort being put forth by other members of the class, see the varied levels of skill in each class, or recognize that one measly little test is not a sufficient method of assessment for everyone. Maybe I'm not good at multiple choice, and maaaybe just maybe I learned different words than the ones put on the test. I am embittered, and I don't like having others exercise their authority over me. If the first week starts off with a review of the most basic points in the language that I learned at the very beginning of my Spanish studies, I believe that sets a tone for the entire semester. When a review begins where I left off, I find it to be of much greater use. It is also more useful, logically, to continue where one left off rather than return to go.
I feel like I'm perpetually losing the game of Sorry with the program.
I just went to an odd jazz show and heard way too many English speakers and songs. A soul group with 3 Argentine front women that sang like Aretha Franklin but looked like Argentine Stepford Wives began to sing "I'm young, gifted, and black." Sabrina and I were wondering if they knew exactly what the songs they were singing meant because every, every song was entirely in English. Furthermore, apparently jazz in Spanish doesn't exist?
Final note: Claude with a Transient Meatball = Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs
I found "pistacho" helado that tasted more like mint. I think I am going to go there every day this weekend, and especially if I able to have a green weekend.