Sunday, November 13, 2005

Probably The Reason I'm In Therapy, con't

That post was taking up the whole page.
Lunch changed again, now it was 11-11:45. You know we all raised a holy hell. How dare you shave fifteen whole minutes off our lunch hour? We were getting out of school later than we ever had (9th grade, 1:52; 10th grade, 2:05; 11th grade, 2:20!!!) and this was the only time we had to unwind (and do all the homework for the classes we had after lunch) and you were knocking off fifteen whole minutes? The cruelty of it all.
I started smoking around this time. It is a pretty good stress reliever, just a bad habit. I had to wash my hair everyday and shower twice to get the smell out. And it still lingered in my clothes. I was going like two packs a week. But I was relaxed as I don't know what.
Anyway, I also went to summer school in eleventh grade for surprise sursprise! Math. And chemistry. Math I aced. The guy we had was from London and he was pretty cool. He spent most of the summer teaching us 'proper' English. Bathroom = Loo. Hood (on a car) = Bonnet. WTF? And they talk about us? He was a very good teacher and even thought it took eleven years, I finally learned how to do the fraction thing.
is/of x %/100 = answer
Why couldn't someone tell me that in the first goddamn place? This was one of the reasons I hated school so much. Everybody tried to make everything so f*cking complicated when all they had to do was say this is this and that is that. Now I will never, ever, as long as I live like math but he actually made that summer liveable.
Chemistry is another one of those classes I find I had no use for. In my base school, we barely had enough supplies for the bathroom, much less the "chem lab." Notice the quotes. It was a classroom that doubled as a chem lab. Half of the experiments we did I refused to participate. Do you really think I'm going to touch hydrochloric acid with no goggles, no apron and no gloves? What did you smoke this morning? You know the shower you're supposed to have in the back in case some of those chemicals spill on you? Ah, that would have been a dream. The only hope was that you could run to the bathroom fast enough to wash the posion off your skin. There actually was an explosion once, that was fun.
So I went to summer school, and discovered a new world. A world of fresh latex gloves, clean goggles, aprons, acid showers, chemicals with labels on them, an emergency phone, and plenty of First Aid kits. I had to say, when taught to do the experiments proerply with the correct equipment and guidance, I was somewhat interested. I took both regents at the end of tht summer and passed. Yay. Onto senior year.
Senior year I started off gung ho as a muthaf*cka. The highlight of that year was breaking up with my boyfriend a few days after my birthday. Boy was that a load off. Not for him, for me. Gym came back with a vengeance. Old boy had us running fifteen laps a day. Our gym is about 3,698 square feet around. (Yes, we sat there and did the math.) Now I was out of shape at that point and didn't really understand the beauty of exercise like I do now.
Let me also add that I was taking extra gyms to make up for the ones I failed earlier. So I was running fifteen laps a day three times. Forty-five laps. One more thing, we had no shower/lockeroom, so your sweaty ass was walking around all day funking it up like who shot John. I made it a point to bring three different shirts a day, deodorant, soap and wipes. If you weren't into draggin sh*t back and forth everyday, you were classed at like a ten on the funk meter. I was also going to gym at lunch (we only ran five laps then) and in night school.
Laps nearly killed me. I was up to like three packs a week so my breath was gone trying to run and keep up. If you fell too far behind and the person in the front passed the person in the back, you had to start all over from one.
Though I was near death at the end of the day because my knees were already no good, I must say my figure never looked better. I was lookin damn good. I've only gained a few punds from then until now but that was because of a mitigating circumstance that spring which I will not discuss.
We finally got into the lounge and boy let me tell you it was not all it was cracked up to be. The radio no longer played our favorite tunes because the main office was just down the hall and the one chick in there swore we played it too loud. The couches were now ragged and replaced with tables we had to jack from the eigth graders.
Remeber how I said me and Tera spent most of our time chillin in the bathroom? Well that was because that was just about the only thing the bathroom was used for. There was never tissue, soap and paper towels at once. It was like gambling. You got one, never all three. If we were lucky, we got two. We all knew when the Superintendant came to visit because the bathroom would be spotless and stocked with all the supplies we needed. Sneaky bastards. Mind you, this was before they locked the doors because some ditzy tenth grader and her teenybopper friends decided to light up some good old Mary J in the stall. Grow the f*ck up and smoke on lunch hour like everyone else. So if you had to pee, you best hold it. Or do like me and alternate between the boys room and the teacher's bathroom. (They hated it when I went in there.)
February hit and I came down with the hardest case of senioritis ever recorded. I was late almost everyday (school now began at 8:45 and ended at 2:25) and when I was there, I was asleep. I was worn out from night school which began at four and ended at five after nine, and just plain stressed out. It wasn't like school was helping.
Morale was low because there was no senior trip. (Not enough people wanted to go and there weren't enough chaperones besides.) I refused to go to the prom and fake like I was cool with people for four hours. Drop two for a party from eight to midnight? Yeah right. I would spend just that on shoes. There was little or no motivation to be in school and when walking out of class to avoid punching a grown man in the face is the talk of the day, its really time to get out of there. I don't know how I survived, but I did. And I would rather be dead than ever go back to that place.
On a lighter note, Mo, I'll be posting Ain't Gold after Desperate Hosuewives.


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Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take and may this song play all the way, through. And if it skip a beat, hit repeat, this the realest shit I ever wrote, this is me. If it skip a beat, hit repeat, This the realest shit I ever wrote, this is me. -Juelz Sanatana, This Is Me, What The Game's Been Missing