hateful things
I've about had it up to here (picture me with my hand about neck-level...) with Bloomington High School South and Southern Indiana in general. I have yet to see such stupidity contained within a single place. Unfortunately, as of right now I have no way out. The day can't come soon enough when I walk up, get my diploma, and mentally flip off all the people that inhibited my growth as a human being (interesting that I talk about rude hand gestures and growing as a human being in the same sentence...). Let me break down my day:
1st Period: It's fucking spirit week. Yeah-haw. Today was pajama day, and the sad thing is that I didn't notice much of a difference between the people wearing pajamas and the way they normally dress. Here's the intriguing thing: even I have the self-respect to dress myself moderately well. I can honestly say that the times are few and far between when I have worn the same clothes as the night before...
2nd Period: If I hear another superficial, empty-headed comment I think I will scream. I am in a class with all the sophmores that play football and the "cool" jackasses that don't even have the intellegence to (again) dress themselves in the morning.It is a rather brutal assault on the senses, and I almost kicked the shit out of one of the little morons today.
3rd Period: An individual whom I will refer to as "bob" still hasn't learned that certain things have a time and a place, whereas others should be left unsaid. I won't name names since if the shoe were on the other foot I would not like meself to be exposed in such a public way. Suffice it to say, this individual gives the people of his demographic a bad name.
C Lunch: Well, the goddamn pep rally is coming back at the end of the week. As usual, The Powers that Be will try to get all 2000 students into that tiny gym and try to impress upon a mostly willing public how great the panthers are. Unfortunately, the thing that they fail to realize is that if they would back off a little it might actually work in their favor...
Still in C lunch, I went to see a dear friend of mine who happens to be higher up in The Powers that Be. I never thought I would see the day when this previously helpful lady would become one of the MCCSC Corporate Drones. She basically said to me that if I wanted any information to talk to so-and-so and that she couldn't help me. She also told me that I would be written up if certain things happened.
For the last fifteen minutes, against my better judgement, I went to the library, hoping that Mrs. R. (abbreviated) would help me out. After all, she and I seemed to be on civil terms despite previous friction. No avail, though. Here's what I said:
Patrick: Mrs. R., is the library open during the pep rally this friday. To be honest, I really don't want to go...
R.: Well, it is, but it's not an option for you.
So, I retreated to the back of the library, pulling out my laptop and trying to quell my anger with a very dear passion of mine: writing. For about five minutes I sat there and typed, avoiding angry stares from staff. During the last five minutes I had had enough of the environment and decided to remove myself from the situation, as I was told by certain people, and began advancing towards the back door. Nobody, and I mean nobody, was watching me as far as I could tell. Then, some bitch with an axe to grind poked her head out of one of the offices off to the side and just stared at me.
I backed down.
It amazes me to no end all the times that I've seen my peers go out the back door and yet the one time I do it I get caught. It pisses me off, to say the least. And so I walked off, muttering, and waited for the bell to ring...
Fourth Period: My anger at boiling point, I went to Mrs. HH's room to see if there were some way I could get out of the pep session. No avail, though, because she was busy on Friday. Rightly so, but still...
She suggested that I write a letter, which I did, and I sent it to her to look over. When I get it back, I will post it here and everywhere I can.
The rest of fourth period went ok, as did the rest of the day, except...
Bus Ride Home: This little annoying seventh grader on the bus was screaming and pitching a tantrum over a little tiny bug on the window. She's so fucking abrasive, and I have had quite enough of her "antics". Suffice it to say, I gave her hell...
1st Period: It's fucking spirit week. Yeah-haw. Today was pajama day, and the sad thing is that I didn't notice much of a difference between the people wearing pajamas and the way they normally dress. Here's the intriguing thing: even I have the self-respect to dress myself moderately well. I can honestly say that the times are few and far between when I have worn the same clothes as the night before...
2nd Period: If I hear another superficial, empty-headed comment I think I will scream. I am in a class with all the sophmores that play football and the "cool" jackasses that don't even have the intellegence to (again) dress themselves in the morning.It is a rather brutal assault on the senses, and I almost kicked the shit out of one of the little morons today.
3rd Period: An individual whom I will refer to as "bob" still hasn't learned that certain things have a time and a place, whereas others should be left unsaid. I won't name names since if the shoe were on the other foot I would not like meself to be exposed in such a public way. Suffice it to say, this individual gives the people of his demographic a bad name.
C Lunch: Well, the goddamn pep rally is coming back at the end of the week. As usual, The Powers that Be will try to get all 2000 students into that tiny gym and try to impress upon a mostly willing public how great the panthers are. Unfortunately, the thing that they fail to realize is that if they would back off a little it might actually work in their favor...
Still in C lunch, I went to see a dear friend of mine who happens to be higher up in The Powers that Be. I never thought I would see the day when this previously helpful lady would become one of the MCCSC Corporate Drones. She basically said to me that if I wanted any information to talk to so-and-so and that she couldn't help me. She also told me that I would be written up if certain things happened.
For the last fifteen minutes, against my better judgement, I went to the library, hoping that Mrs. R. (abbreviated) would help me out. After all, she and I seemed to be on civil terms despite previous friction. No avail, though. Here's what I said:
Patrick: Mrs. R., is the library open during the pep rally this friday. To be honest, I really don't want to go...
R.: Well, it is, but it's not an option for you.
So, I retreated to the back of the library, pulling out my laptop and trying to quell my anger with a very dear passion of mine: writing. For about five minutes I sat there and typed, avoiding angry stares from staff. During the last five minutes I had had enough of the environment and decided to remove myself from the situation, as I was told by certain people, and began advancing towards the back door. Nobody, and I mean nobody, was watching me as far as I could tell. Then, some bitch with an axe to grind poked her head out of one of the offices off to the side and just stared at me.
I backed down.
It amazes me to no end all the times that I've seen my peers go out the back door and yet the one time I do it I get caught. It pisses me off, to say the least. And so I walked off, muttering, and waited for the bell to ring...
Fourth Period: My anger at boiling point, I went to Mrs. HH's room to see if there were some way I could get out of the pep session. No avail, though, because she was busy on Friday. Rightly so, but still...
She suggested that I write a letter, which I did, and I sent it to her to look over. When I get it back, I will post it here and everywhere I can.
The rest of fourth period went ok, as did the rest of the day, except...
Bus Ride Home: This little annoying seventh grader on the bus was screaming and pitching a tantrum over a little tiny bug on the window. She's so fucking abrasive, and I have had quite enough of her "antics". Suffice it to say, I gave her hell...