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Sunday, September 12, 2004
HIGH SCHOOL...
G-Had has been re-hashing high school memories - especially posting and musing on report cards. That's pretty brave. I don't have all that many memories of high school. Mostly I remember:
-Not having many friends, or at least not many friends of the type that might call on a Friday night and ask me to do things. I had lots of friends that I fished with, but not many that I hung out with, otherwise.
-Not having much luck with girls. By "not having much luck," I mean "having absolutely no luck whatsoever."
-I was lucky in two ways, regarding grades in high school. 1) I could usually do pretty well without studying a bit, and 2) my real slackerly period didn't really start until the second semester of my senior year. I had good enough grades the first semester that I could sleep through the second semester and still end up with a 'C' or better in all my classes. I remember one awesome time in one of Mr. Bell's classes. It was either Algebra II, Pre-Calculus, or Trigonometry. Me and Andy Moon always got in trouble for being mischievious in the class - we would usually goof off until Mr. Bell got mad at us, then we would take naps. One day, I had my head down, sleeping, and from within my semi-comatose state, I heard Mr. Bell say "Mark?" I looked up, bewildered, and probably with a mark on my forehead from my spiral notebook and spittle all over my chin, saw some stuff on the board, deduced that he was looking for an answer, and said "7?" Mr. Bell said, "Oh, I didn't think you were paying attention."
-I liked French class. I took it for 3 years. This was another Moon-Andersen debauchery. 'Tiska was in our class at least one of those years. Our teacher was named "Madame," or at least that's what we called her, and she talked in one of those falsely-high, nasally French-type voices. She was actually from France. Somehow, she was infinitely patient with Andy and I. Even the time we got up in the middle of class, took her bike outside, and started cruising around the street. I think maybe it was because we were the only ones in the class that could understand and speak a bit of French. Most of the smart kids were in the Spanish class. I had no interest in learning Spanish from a bewildered old man who also taught German and, apparently, often intermingled them during class.
-I also took several years of mechanical drafting. I didn't take architectural drafting. I should have, because it's more intellectually stimulating, I'm sure. The mechanical drafting classes were huge - like 30 kids or something, and they were made up of all the Toughs - the wrestlers, kids who got kicked off the football team for drawing knives on people, the drug-types. I think that it was at this point that I realized I can pretty much get along with anyone. I didn't say anything to offend anyone, I helped the slower kids when they needed help, and I minded my own business, but if someone shoved me, I shoved back. I think it earned me a little respect, but it probably was also just kinda pathetic to see this little 5'1" chubby kid trying to fend off a 20-year old, 250 pound, 6'2" guy, so mostly nobody really gave me any trouble.
-Chemistry was not my strong subject, for two reasons. 1) I had a faulty bunsen burner, and everytime I tried to light it, it would create a huge fireball that almost killed me and everyone in the immediate vicinity. 2) I sat next to Beth in that class, and I pretty much spent the whole time ogling her. It never went anywhere, at all. She was my girlfriend for about 5 days in 5th grade. I think it was a pretty good relationship. I think I might even have kissed her once. But then Mitch, who I wasn't really even friends with, wanted to 'date' her, and for some reason, Dan and Tim were with Mitch on this, and Dan told me he wouldn't invite me to his birthday party unless I dumped her. As I mentioned, I was a miserable failure with girls. I don't think the birthday party was really even all that great. It's only within the last few years that I've gotten over regretting that decision.
It's been close to 10 years now, since I graduated from high school. I like to think I'm not quite as geeky as I was then. I know a little more about a few things. But really, not that much has changed. I'm still in school. Still struggling to give a rat's keister about it.
I think I'm just tired of being in school. Then again, it sure beats work.
-m
G-Had has been re-hashing high school memories - especially posting and musing on report cards. That's pretty brave. I don't have all that many memories of high school. Mostly I remember:
-Not having many friends, or at least not many friends of the type that might call on a Friday night and ask me to do things. I had lots of friends that I fished with, but not many that I hung out with, otherwise.
-Not having much luck with girls. By "not having much luck," I mean "having absolutely no luck whatsoever."
-I was lucky in two ways, regarding grades in high school. 1) I could usually do pretty well without studying a bit, and 2) my real slackerly period didn't really start until the second semester of my senior year. I had good enough grades the first semester that I could sleep through the second semester and still end up with a 'C' or better in all my classes. I remember one awesome time in one of Mr. Bell's classes. It was either Algebra II, Pre-Calculus, or Trigonometry. Me and Andy Moon always got in trouble for being mischievious in the class - we would usually goof off until Mr. Bell got mad at us, then we would take naps. One day, I had my head down, sleeping, and from within my semi-comatose state, I heard Mr. Bell say "Mark?" I looked up, bewildered, and probably with a mark on my forehead from my spiral notebook and spittle all over my chin, saw some stuff on the board, deduced that he was looking for an answer, and said "7?" Mr. Bell said, "Oh, I didn't think you were paying attention."
-I liked French class. I took it for 3 years. This was another Moon-Andersen debauchery. 'Tiska was in our class at least one of those years. Our teacher was named "Madame," or at least that's what we called her, and she talked in one of those falsely-high, nasally French-type voices. She was actually from France. Somehow, she was infinitely patient with Andy and I. Even the time we got up in the middle of class, took her bike outside, and started cruising around the street. I think maybe it was because we were the only ones in the class that could understand and speak a bit of French. Most of the smart kids were in the Spanish class. I had no interest in learning Spanish from a bewildered old man who also taught German and, apparently, often intermingled them during class.
-I also took several years of mechanical drafting. I didn't take architectural drafting. I should have, because it's more intellectually stimulating, I'm sure. The mechanical drafting classes were huge - like 30 kids or something, and they were made up of all the Toughs - the wrestlers, kids who got kicked off the football team for drawing knives on people, the drug-types. I think that it was at this point that I realized I can pretty much get along with anyone. I didn't say anything to offend anyone, I helped the slower kids when they needed help, and I minded my own business, but if someone shoved me, I shoved back. I think it earned me a little respect, but it probably was also just kinda pathetic to see this little 5'1" chubby kid trying to fend off a 20-year old, 250 pound, 6'2" guy, so mostly nobody really gave me any trouble.
-Chemistry was not my strong subject, for two reasons. 1) I had a faulty bunsen burner, and everytime I tried to light it, it would create a huge fireball that almost killed me and everyone in the immediate vicinity. 2) I sat next to Beth in that class, and I pretty much spent the whole time ogling her. It never went anywhere, at all. She was my girlfriend for about 5 days in 5th grade. I think it was a pretty good relationship. I think I might even have kissed her once. But then Mitch, who I wasn't really even friends with, wanted to 'date' her, and for some reason, Dan and Tim were with Mitch on this, and Dan told me he wouldn't invite me to his birthday party unless I dumped her. As I mentioned, I was a miserable failure with girls. I don't think the birthday party was really even all that great. It's only within the last few years that I've gotten over regretting that decision.
It's been close to 10 years now, since I graduated from high school. I like to think I'm not quite as geeky as I was then. I know a little more about a few things. But really, not that much has changed. I'm still in school. Still struggling to give a rat's keister about it.
I think I'm just tired of being in school. Then again, it sure beats work.
-m
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