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I hope this is as painful to read as it was to write. Until about fourth grade, I was too consumed with Pokemon and Harry Potter and Nintendo 64 to be much of a problem. Aside from Cub Scouts, where I was one of those "needs attention so bad he will take the bad kind" type of kids. In my defense, I didn't want to be there, but it took four years too long to get kicked out. Looking back, I wish I had held out a bit longer so I could get kicked out for something entertaining, but I'm convinced that I could have been a gay Muslim crossdressing atheist, and my dad would have pulled strings to keep me in there. From fourth to eighth grade, I was aggressively useless in gym class because I assumed that if I was bad enough, I'd just get quietly pulled out and no one would notice that my fine motor skills haven't improved since I stopped making GBS threads myself. Then I went to high school and opted for the weight room every semester, and no one called me out on not being able to move more than fifty pounds of anything. In eighth grade, I turned down dates (or the middle school equivalent) with two very nice and actually well-liked girls because I assumed they were making fun of me. After this, I severely creeped out another girl in the kind of way that is seemingly only done by people with developmental disabilities because I didn't know it wasn't okay to bring up whether or not you'd have sex with a girl to her face when you're all thirteen. In ninth grade, I did the school play. There were about twenty of us between the cast and crew, and I was definitively the youngest. When the play finished, I got invited to the cast party, where I said all of three sentences, two of which were awkward non-jokes, and played my DS while all the socialized kids hosed in the other room. Even when I got invited to the other room. Twice. (Drama geeks are a notoriously depraved and incestuous bunch.) In tenth grade, I decided I wanted to smoke some weed. A friend offered to practically deliver it to my house, along with an improvised smoking device. This was practically a rite of passage; I was going to break a heavily ingrained rule, rebelling against the law, the educational establishment that lied to me, and my parents who trusted me, as well as bond with people my own age over something other than "no one likes us". He was a block away when I called him, chickening out because my folks got home early because my cousin's grandfather died. Kept me off weed until this year. In eleventh grade, I went out for my last school play ever, an incidentally all-white production of The Wiz. Because of my unfamiliarity with the source material and how the director planned on interpreting it, I showed up to the audition doing the most hideous minstrel show accent the world has ever known. I got Uncle Henry, who has all of three lines. This would be my last foray into theater. That's not even the most shameful part to me though, I'm most ashamed of myself for thinking that I was entitled to a bigger part just because I was in it for longer (although I definitely could have gotten a lead if I applied myself, there were some dire kids in there). In twelfth grade, at the annual pep rally, I sang the National Anthem wearing the rival high school's colors just to be an anticonformist dick. It's the first time I've heard people boo the National Anthem. When prom came around, I decided I wasn't going because I had no friends, until the last minute when someone offered me a free ticket that their date wasn't going to use because she got cold feet. Since I still wasn't about to take it seriously, I opted out of a traditional tuxedo and went with a white cravat and purple everything else. I looked like white Prince, but it was technically formalwear so I couldn't get kicked out. Unsurprisingly, I didn't do any dancing, nor was I invited to any afterparties. The summer after twelfth grade, I went to an anime convention not because I enjoy the fine art of Japanese cartoons, but because a friend told me that they were practically handing out free sex there. It was painfully awkward, but I had a "there but for the grace of God go I" moment which set me on the path to actually being able to function in groups without interjecting with violence or sex. I still went back the next year though. I even got my free sex, which makes for a great "worst thing you've ever done" story. Also, I wore a not-fedora (trilby?) on-and-off for the last two years of high school, but I don't count that because I never wore it with cargo shorts and band shirts, but with stuff that you're supposed to wear a nice hat with. Besides, after all that, a fedora would practically make me cooler.
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Nov 13, 2012 21:11
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| # ¿ Apr 25, 2024 11:45 |
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