Tuesday, June 3, 2008

rEbEl sPiRiT!!!!

In order to best clarify what I'm about to say, I need to give some sort of description of my former high school. We'll call it Poncalli because I've heard that my diploma can be taken away for 90 more days. Poncalli High School is all white, all Catholic, and all about itself. And no, we did not have cute uniforms.

Student Favorites:

-Kenny Chesney
-Dave Matthews Band
-Larry the Cable Guy
-trucks. not the kind for skateboards.
-American Eagle
-basketball shorts
-synchronized dancing/clapping/cheering

Administration Favorites:
-busting student parties
-pretending to be your friend but really just ratting you out and suspending you
-mimes at Good Friday services
-khaki Old Navy cargo pants

I think that my previous description gives a pretty accurate representation of what it's like to walk to Poncalli halls. After four years in the Poncalli halls, I can present some valuable high school lessons.

1) Freshman girls will have terrible self esteem.
I've done this and I've seen so many other freshman girls do the same thing. You're in an unfamiliar place surrounded by people who have already passed their "awkward stage," making you all the more uncomfortable. You got a new hair cut just for high school but it's really hard to maintain during the day. Really, you're just trying to fit in. Miraculously, this low self esteem brings about a sort of blurred vision regarding potential mates. People that date freshman girls are either:
-very lucky 8th graders
-25+ years old
-creepy upperclassmen that cannot get a date otherwise
And somehow, these freshman girls are charmed by the wit and finesse of their aforementioned suitors. Now, the same girls will hopefully go a little farther into puberty and realize that their new boyfriends are lame or will just continue to date their boyfriends until their boyfriends go to college, jail, or become underclassmen and the whole romantic notion just fizzles out.
2) You will have to sit by what could be the stupidest person on Earth.
In Poncalli High School and probably every other high school, there is a cornucopia of people that, in this stage of life, are stupid. While the exoskeletons of these creatures vary, most of whom I speak of at Poncalli have fade haircuts, two cubic zirconia earrings, and "dress up" in an Abercrombie polo. This classmate will sit next to you in a class that demands some sort of participation, be that a class about literature or trigonometry (Eliminate the possibilty of calculus. He's not in that class and neither are you.) When such a person does participate in class, he contribues something along the lines of being able to identify a noun or is talking about how much he got laid last weekend (don't believe him). In the everyday world, you may call this person a "bro." I recommend looking up BRORAPE on youtube.
3) Unless you're a bro (see above) or an amazon woman, gym class is terrible.
I'll admit it in the beginning, I am not and never will be athletic. I am the spawn of a triathelete and a runner, but somehow missed out on their genes. For people like me, NORMAL PEOPLE, gym class is torture (especially if your school is poor and you have no air conditioning). The male teacher of your class will be a sexual harassment suit waiting to happen and the female teacher will be better at every sport than you will ever be. The teachers know this. You know this. Tough shit. By the end of the year, I still could not run three laps around the circle in front of the school without walking a little. The male gym teacher asked me if I tried to throw the shotput wrong (because believe me, I did). However I formed tight bonds with my fellow nonatheletes. We long jumped very short distances together. We hopped our high jumps. We struggled through the biannual mile. We watched a bro fart while trying to do more pull ups. Though gym class will make you feel like a total outsider, you'll find a little home amoungst the other outsiders.

4)As much as you might want to burn down your high school at some points, just finish it so that you can look back and laugh.
I would describe my entire high school experience has love/hate. I made some great friends and hated some people. I packed some great lunches and hated the school's mozzerella sticks. I slept in a lot of classes and disrupted others with excess enthusiasm. For as many times as I've wanted to poop in the hallway, I've gone out on the weekend and laughed until I had to scream that I was going to throw up. I doubt that any 8th grader will ever read this, but if one does, just grit your teeth through the hard parts and enjoy the fun that you do have.

Is this when Green Day should play?
No, just Peaches. Loud and in front of the principal.

1 comment:

Costello said...

that photo has inspired me to get a fade.