..And nothing more."
I am pleased to report that I have successfully memorized all 18 stanzas of EAP's "THE RAVEN" in honor of the quickly approaching Halloween season. Not to come across as the Antichrist, but In all honesty, I could REALLY care less about Christmas as long as Halloween is still on the calendar. There is absolutely no holiday that gets me more excited.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
To the Idiot who Invented "STUDY HALL"
For years I've struggled with the concept of Public School, but having parents have neither the patience to home-school me nor the resources to have me receive a formal education elsewhere, I wound up in High School like everybody else. Every other "normal" kid. Personally, not being a fan of "normal", it has been a battle since day one. Call it dramatization, call it angst, call it what you will. I'm not a big fan of the whole I-hate-my-birthday-I-hate-my-family-I-hate-sunshine-and-I-do-drugs attitude, either, but in all seriousness, the moron (I'm told his name was Charlemagne) who came up with the bright idea of the public school system really ought to eat shit and die. Pardon my French.
And it's bad enough that we as students have to deal with REGULAR classes. *I* have to deal with "STUDY HALL". (Cue the chainsaw violins from a popular horror movie of your choice.)
You'd think the point of a study hall would be to...(wait for it) STUDY. Ooooooh no. No, no no no. No. Absolutely not. That would translate into rationality and actually make my existence in the literal hell that is THS somewhat bearable. Ha! As if. No, where I'M from, the point of study hall is to "Unify Students in the Learning Process". Whatever the hell that's supposed to mean. And hear you me, that place has got to be the reason I feel stupider AFTER I leave the building. Being required to "preview" each others' creative projects and presentations, I get to sit through a physically agonizing ordeal as my peers, one at a time, display their ever-so-crafty posters and exquisitely constructed shoebox dioramas. Somehow, this crap passes for creativity. As classmates, we are encouraged to give each other feedback, and I'm beginning to wonder if I ought to chew my tongue off or cement my jaw shut, because FAR too often, I find myself about to disclose my less-than-appreciative opinion of a fellow student's play-dough abomination. I sound harsh, but hear me out. There's no way that these people should driving a car, much less graduating high school to pursue a career in medicine. These half-wits are going to get everyone killed.
Let me give you an example. This boy Nick. Good-looking kid. Baseball jersey. Stupid shoes. He's giving his "mock presentation" of a poster he made after reading The Grapes of Wrath for his A.P. Reading project.
First of all, the project is in crayon, and second of all, it's essentially a large piece of oblong cardstock, poorly drawn upon which are
THIS.
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/6b/Grapes.jpg
and THIS.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7PToYlcWqM1c0_JDAg7xqChdYTRf-vhtAS-3ZvArUfuua6kK-toI7RF2OVtnN4JIvUhzwhpNmddSCVBcoHUjVpZ9NfH4Z2d5CAEoPLAHhebrckWFG2adco2qDm1UZdEPDa3PetxIfqQ/s400/boxwood_wreath.jpg
Nick: I drew some grapes...and a wrath.
Fellow Baseball Player: That's a wreath, dude.
Nick: Right.
Me: *Facepalm*.
Do you understand the level of intelligence I'm dealing with here? Crap like this happens all the time. I would be a little more tolerant if it were only a few dumb kids, but the truth is, I have a very difficult time having a conversation with ANY of them for longer than five minutes, with very few exceptions.
Tomorrow is Monday. Wish me luck.
And it's bad enough that we as students have to deal with REGULAR classes. *I* have to deal with "STUDY HALL". (Cue the chainsaw violins from a popular horror movie of your choice.)
You'd think the point of a study hall would be to...(wait for it) STUDY. Ooooooh no. No, no no no. No. Absolutely not. That would translate into rationality and actually make my existence in the literal hell that is THS somewhat bearable. Ha! As if. No, where I'M from, the point of study hall is to "Unify Students in the Learning Process". Whatever the hell that's supposed to mean. And hear you me, that place has got to be the reason I feel stupider AFTER I leave the building. Being required to "preview" each others' creative projects and presentations, I get to sit through a physically agonizing ordeal as my peers, one at a time, display their ever-so-crafty posters and exquisitely constructed shoebox dioramas. Somehow, this crap passes for creativity. As classmates, we are encouraged to give each other feedback, and I'm beginning to wonder if I ought to chew my tongue off or cement my jaw shut, because FAR too often, I find myself about to disclose my less-than-appreciative opinion of a fellow student's play-dough abomination. I sound harsh, but hear me out. There's no way that these people should driving a car, much less graduating high school to pursue a career in medicine. These half-wits are going to get everyone killed.
Let me give you an example. This boy Nick. Good-looking kid. Baseball jersey. Stupid shoes. He's giving his "mock presentation" of a poster he made after reading The Grapes of Wrath for his A.P. Reading project.
First of all, the project is in crayon, and second of all, it's essentially a large piece of oblong cardstock, poorly drawn upon which are
THIS.
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/6b/Grapes.jpg
and THIS.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7PToYlcWqM1c0_JDAg7xqChdYTRf-vhtAS-3ZvArUfuua6kK-toI7RF2OVtnN4JIvUhzwhpNmddSCVBcoHUjVpZ9NfH4Z2d5CAEoPLAHhebrckWFG2adco2qDm1UZdEPDa3PetxIfqQ/s400/boxwood_wreath.jpg
Nick: I drew some grapes...and a wrath.
Fellow Baseball Player: That's a wreath, dude.
Nick: Right.
Me: *Facepalm*.
Do you understand the level of intelligence I'm dealing with here? Crap like this happens all the time. I would be a little more tolerant if it were only a few dumb kids, but the truth is, I have a very difficult time having a conversation with ANY of them for longer than five minutes, with very few exceptions.
Tomorrow is Monday. Wish me luck.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
A Whim
In all honesty, I'm a bit disappointed to find myself publishing excerpts from my personal life on the internet for all to read, partly because I have little respect for people that do, and partly because I am all too aware of the fact that I am so scathingly opinionated that anyone with enough willingness to actually hear me out is going to find me so unpleasantly disagreeable that they will regret that decision. However, I will put forth an honest effort to make this a worthwhile experience for us both. My name is Alexx. I'm a senior in high school. This is how I vent.
Things I Don't Believe In:
Cheerleaders
Barbies
Competitive Sports
*Prom*
The Twilight Series
Disney
Zoos
HIGH SCHOOL.
Barbies
Competitive Sports
*Prom*
The Twilight Series
Disney
Zoos
HIGH SCHOOL.
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