High School Memories #1
When I was in grade 9, I was fascinated with a certain group of students who were way-into The Cure and Bauhaus. They would hang posters of Morrisey or lyrics of Joy Division songs in their lockers, dress in black and spike their hair like Edward Scissorhands. Come to think of it – they generally looked like Edward Scissorhands without the, um... scissors for hands.
They would hang out by their lockers because if they didn’t, the jocks would beat the shit out of them presumably.
I would pass by them on my way to social studies, casually observing but never looking directly into their mascara-lined eyes as I would with the gorillas at the zoo. It makes them angry, gorillas that is, and you never want to make them angry. I’m talking about gorillas.
Me, on the other hand, I lived an entirely distinct life. I was way-into the Northern Pikes. I dressed in whatever the popular kids wore, only usually a brand-name knock off a la Beebok or Abibas. I never hung out at my locker, but I did hang out in the foyer with the supposedly popular crowd. We would just sit there and look at each other. I don’t recall talking about anything of importance. Although one time, I remember reaching behind a large trophy case and pulling out a disgusting baggy containing a very mouldy sandwich. A photo of it made it into the yearbook so I guess that was an important moment.
Boy, I kind of wish I was more into the Cure.
They would hang out by their lockers because if they didn’t, the jocks would beat the shit out of them presumably.
I would pass by them on my way to social studies, casually observing but never looking directly into their mascara-lined eyes as I would with the gorillas at the zoo. It makes them angry, gorillas that is, and you never want to make them angry. I’m talking about gorillas.
Me, on the other hand, I lived an entirely distinct life. I was way-into the Northern Pikes. I dressed in whatever the popular kids wore, only usually a brand-name knock off a la Beebok or Abibas. I never hung out at my locker, but I did hang out in the foyer with the supposedly popular crowd. We would just sit there and look at each other. I don’t recall talking about anything of importance. Although one time, I remember reaching behind a large trophy case and pulling out a disgusting baggy containing a very mouldy sandwich. A photo of it made it into the yearbook so I guess that was an important moment.
Boy, I kind of wish I was more into the Cure.
posted by Saucy Monk at 9:42 AM
2 Comments:
What has made you delve into this memory at the ripe age of 33? Do you need less significance in your life and need time in the foyer saying nothing? I guess I've just found more comfort in avoiding saying nothing with lots of people; I'd rather do that by myself...
hmm, that's a lot to think about. I was just re-hashing some bad memories from being a high school loser. Are you suggesting there's something more repressed there? Are you a registered psychiatrist? Am i in serious need of help? Wait, don't answer that.
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