Stickers

Tags

childhood, family, humor, life, memories, school

I began Catholic school in kindergarten; plaid-plain-boringness, carbon copies of one another and it wasn’t until I nearly failed second grade my parents decided to pull me out of hell. 

My kindergarten teacher was fantastically awesome, kindhearted, understanding, knowledgeable, and though she smelled a little like cigarettes masked by a faint perfume she was one of my favorite people in the world.  Her assistant however was the complete opposite of her, if someone told me she was Medusa I would have believed it no question… don’t look at her you will turn to stone. 

I remember constantly being sent to the middle of the room to sit on a booster seat positioned in front of a pillar, often when we were about to do something really fun like recess or P.E.  It broke little five year old me, but that is what Medusa wanted. 

Nap time was a horrible concept to me.  I never napped even when I was sick and my Mom told me the only way I was allowed to stay home was if I took a nap “OK” then I would just lay in my room with the lights off wishing she would come and save me from the awful state of not napping, not tired, no fun. 

Students who had a successful day were given shiny star stickers that were placed on a chart next to their name, under the appropriate day.  By the middle of the semester the chart glittered like a disco ball except for one line

Sonya____/____/____/____/____/____/____/____/____/____/____/____/____/____/____/____/

This fact disappointed me, but not enough to actually nap.  Medusa called my parents on numerous occasions to inform them I was misbehaving and being defiant.  It was suggested that I lay down with all the other kids during nap time and not talk (Sure sure I’m five… full of energy, I can definitely not talk).  So I did just that, I would lay down with all the other kids and attempt to stay silent for what felt like days, but I still didn’t get any stickers. 

So one starless day I was placed next to my crush, a cute little kid with blonde hair named Cody.  Apparently (according to my Mom) he had cerebral palsy, but all I saw was cute.  I told Cody that I was fearless, and he didn’t believe me.  I tried to talk him into believing me, but as we all know actions speak louder than words.

 I said “If I wasn’t fearless would I do this?”   I grabbed my pillow and proceeded to slam my face into it, or at least the plan was to do that, I over shot considerably.  Rather than slamming my face into a soft giving pillow my face met with the rough-hard carpet.  My nose started bleeding instantaneously and everything in the dark room got a hazy red look.  I cried.  Mrs. Kindhearted held a tissue up to my nose until the bleeding stopped, which took all of nap time. 

 That day I got my first and only shiny sticker, and I got to look like a badass for my crush.

Then it All Went to Hell….

Tags

acting, bratty kids, cars, diary, entertainment, humor, journal, kids, lies, life, memories, new school, play, plays, power wheels, school, toys, transportation, truck

Part 2

My cast of many didn’t like the idea of being on stage in front of not only the entire school, but the school’s parents too. One by one people bailed out until there were only four actors left. Myself (sister number one), Cory (sister number two and my best friend thank you very much), Blythe (Mother), and Megan (customer number 1, 2, 3, 4, ………).

Megan is kind of her own story; she was morbidly obese before we had a term for it. During P.E. students were weighed at the beginning of the year and at the end of the year, all of our weights were read out loud, except Megan’s. Had her number just been called out I think most of us wouldn’t have taken a second thought to it, but the fact that it was hidden from us made us all lean in real close, then look sadly at her as we were all aware of her weight, but acknowledging it wasn’t entirely her fault. Her Mom was our bus driver, and she looked just like her Mom.

***
My parents let me borrow tons of stuff to use as props; the only thing missing was a car. I desperately wanted a power wheels car and to my amazement Megan had one, well Megan’s brother, but we were allowed to use it.

What I imagined the boy’s power wheels to look like.

***
The day of the show Megan and I rode together with all of the props, her Mom drove a truck with the power wheels truck in the back. “Hey can I see it before we go in?” I asked Megan.
“Oh, won’t you have to set up everything else?” She asked.
“I suppose so; I will just see it on stage. Man it’s really nice of your brother to let us use it!”
“He had no choice.” Megan’s Mom said, winking at me.

***
The second I got out of the car the music teacher aka coordinator of the entire event ran up to me with horrible – awful – terrible news. “Blythe is in the emergency room, something about her brother and her teeth.”
I was devastated for a multitude of reasons.

“Do you want to go on, or should I pull your play from the set?” She was a bit frantic like we fit into some crazy time slot and if our play wasn’t there, everything would come to a sketching halt.

“We will go on.” I said; as long as my parents were in the audience, my play was going on.

***
Megan was now playing the part of the girl’s Mother and every single customer. It already had disaster written all over it, I was just terribly optimistic.

When Megan established herself as our Mother and then returned as customer number one to buy a dress, people stirred uncomfortably in their chairs. Moments that were meant to be funny went by without laughs because people weren’t sure what was intentional and what wasn’t. We pressed on.

***
A little while later Cory and I began yelling “Car wash, car wash.” Megan’s cue to come on stage; Cory and I were pacing back and forth while we ‘waited for a customer’ and I turned around just in time to see Megan squatting, knees to her face, scooting a toy van that could fit only barbies. I tried so hard but I couldn’t stop myself I laughed quite loudly into the microphone.

Then Cory started laughing, so hard in fact her shoulders bounced up and down. Then everyone in the audience started laughing. Megan seemed oblivious to the situation, and acted just as she was supposed to. Finally we had the audience and when our play was over we got a standing ovation. I honestly think it had nothing to do with the play itself, the dialogue, nor our acting skills, we provided what no other act would or probably will again, a large child sitting on top of a Barbie car, pretending it is a power wheels.

Let’s go for a ride.

A New School and You Little Missy… are a douche.

Tags

Bloody Mary, bratty kids, diary, entertainment, humor, journal, kids, life, memories, new school, plays, school

Part 1 (won’t seem connected until part 3).

In 1993 I transferred from Catholic school to public school, the transition wasn’t too difficult since I hated Catholic school with a burning fire and knew nothing of public school at all; though it was establish rather quickly that I was not going to be welcomed with open arms.

“Kristy will you please be Sonya’s buddy and show her around campus for the day?” My teacher Mrs. Rutherford asked a pretty little girl with long blonde hair sitting in the front row.

Actually she looked a lot like the girl from Poltergeist

Kristy agreed and once we were released for recess she walked me straight to the girl’s bathroom. “Come with me.” She said, leading me into the grey colored restroom with six empty stalls, a large mirror hung above two sinks, a drain lay in the middle of the room and a fan screamed loudly as she told me to stand in the center of the room, directly over the drain.

“Don’t move.” She said as a toilet flushed itself.

“What was that?” I asked terrified. I knew we were alone in that room, but I knew nothing of old piping.

“The ghosts.” She replied as she walked over to the door and flicked off the light. The fan stopped screaming though it continued spinning casting shadows on one stall as the sunlight peaked past the blades. “If you step off that drain, the fan will start moving again then conduct enough electricity to kill you; a lightning bolt will come from it and hit you where you stand.” Then she shut the door behind her.

I stared at my reflection suddenly convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt Bloody Mary was going to come through and get me; I jumped off the drain and ran for the door. I was not struck by lightning.

***
About half way through the school year, for no reason at all an overachiever-popular girl named Jessica wrote a play. It was the most God awful, nonsensical bull crap ever. She asked for volunteers to be a part of her play, then assigned people parts. At the time I wanted to become two things when I grew up, a singer and an actress. I was the first to raise my hand and I hadn’t even seen the script. She assigned me the part of card holder. I had no lines. I was given four large cards that read different times of the day and told to stand in front of the class with the cards before each scene.

I am not too sure when it sunk in that while I had a very demeaning pointless part, there were even more children in the audience that had been overlooked for any part in this craptaculous play at all. I was a fair child, I believed the world was just and kind, and couldn’t understand why anyone should be left out. That night I went home and worked on my own play entitled Lose It or Earn It.

***
The concept behind my play was rather simple, two sisters decided to get their Mother a gift for her birthday, but not just any gift THE GIFT; a gold, diamond studded pony broach they had seen her eyeing many times before. The girls go to the mall where the clerk informs them of the cost which was somewhere around two hundred dollars. Throughout the rest of the play the girls do odd jobs to earn the money to pay for the gift they believe their Mother so desperately wants. No job was easy, from washing cars, to selling prized positions, convincing those that came they really wanted whatever goods or services they provided. In the end the girls save up enough money to get the broach, they run to the store only to discover the broach had been sold. Dejected the girls head home, heads hung low, they enter the house to find their Mom beaming from ear to ear in the kitchen. “Look what I just bought!” Their Mom says revealing the pony broach, both girls faint….. and scene.

***
The script was flexible, there could be a multitude of actors or there could be as few as four or five. A group of us presented my play to the class about a week later. Mrs. Rutherford called me back when we all got up to go to recess. “Sonya, that play was really good!”

“Thank you.” I said. I honestly hadn’t written it for any other reason than to show that no one should be left out.

“I strongly urge you to enter it into the talent show.”

I had never even heard of a talent show before, we didn’t have them in Catholic school. I was blown away, not that my works would be displayed for all to critic but because I was going to be able to perform on stage, and without hesitation agreed. Then it all went to hell….

 

Apparently I was a Slut

Tags

broken hearts, community, crushes, drama, girls, high school, humor, life, memories, rumors, school, slut, teenager

In fifth grade I was madly in love with a blonde hair blue eyed guy named Danny Smith, I actually thought he was related to John Smith and at the time I didn’t know the real story of Pocahontas so he was that much more attractive to me.  I never even talked to the boy; he was on another level… the bad boy, the kind you look at but your parents would never approve so you stay away.

One day my friend Sara found out about my crush, told him about it then dragged me from one end of the playground to the other.  It must have been a sight because I was fighting like my hair was on fire and she was dragging me down to the pits of hell.  She pulled me up to Danny and said “Tell her what you told me!”  He looked at me with wild blue eyes and simply said “Yes.”  It didn’t matter what he was saying yes to though; I didn’t believe for a moment that he was saying ‘yes I like you’ since he didn’t say that and she didn’t ask him with those words in front of my face, so I ran.  Danny got kicked out of school the same day; apparently he was more of a bad boy than even I thought.

***

A year or so later a boy named Ben asked me to be his girlfriend.  I wasn’t allowed to date and no matter what I was sure my parents would find out.  I preferred to fly under the radar, I really hate to disappoint people especially my parents.  I thanked him and told him no, maybe when I was sixteen if we still knew one another.  A month or so later I heard a rumor that I was dating Ben, but that we were keeping it a secret.  I confronted him about it and he admitted to telling the entire school, needless to say I was less than pleased and immediately stopped talking to him.  —-I wonder if he went to my high school. ——

 

***

Nick B was one of six major assholes in high school, he loved to play jokes on people and treated everyone like they were shit on his shoe; the funny thing was he wasn’t even remotely attractive so people just bent to him for no real reason.

One day Nick informed me that his friend Ralph liked me, Ralph stood next to him looking at the floor.  I didn’t believe Nick at all.  Ralph was quite, short, with olive skin, and his body was shapes… just shapes.  Maybe he hadn’t come into his skin, but he was someone I had never noticed before and have no idea when he stopped going to our school.  I didn’t react at all.  Ralph didn’t move.  After a little while Nick began laughing like a hyena and punched Ralph in the arm, “Dude you suck!” He said and walked away.

***

Finally there was Scott No Chance.

***

In college I shared a dorm with a girl named Wally, she and I had gone to high school together though we hadn’t known one another well since she was a year older than I and on the basketball team, while I was on the dance and soccer teams.  It wasn’t like there was a divide just no common interest, but we were cordial.

As time went on we hung out pretty often and I would drive her back home for major holidays.  One day we went to Applebees for lunch and she blurted out “I cannot believe I refused to talk to you in high school!”

I looked at her a little surprised; no one had ever admitted they actively avoided talking to me before.

“I don’t really understand why people would say what they said about you!”  She continued like I had any clue what the hell she was talking about.

I stared at her blankly, almost afraid to say anything for fear she would stop talking altogether and I would never know what they were saying about me.  I didn’t even know who they were.

“More people should have given you a chance and not listened to that drivel, since it is clearly untrue.”

“What’s untrue?”

“Wait, you don’t know?”

My face must have been devoid of color, I felt literally see-through… invisible… or exposed I wasn’t sure.  I said nothing.

“Everyone knew… or at least they thought they knew; you were the biggest slut in school!”

I was so shocked I wanted to laugh and then cry.  How many people believed this nonsense?  I had actually run away from guys that liked me, made them feel small, not purposefully just out of fear and lack of experience.  Every guy I had ever hurt flash in my mind.  I couldn’t believe that one of them could have started this rumor, how far back had it gone?  It seemed to me a better tactic to keep guys away would be to accuse me of being a prude, which I was so it wouldn’t have been an accusation it would have been the truth.  A truth I wasn’t proud of, I wasn’t ashamed of it either, just saddened by it.  When the only boy you have ever kissed at the age of 18 was one that forced you to kiss him at the age of four on the playground then lifted up your skirt for everyone to see your underoos you don’t really feel too special.

***

  (I was a kid)

Sometime later it was confirmed that most of the student body, (a bunch of my friends included) knew of the rumor and no one set it straight.

The source of the rumor was not in fact a boy I hurt, but a girl that was my best friend for over two years in high school.  I thought we had just grown apart, and I was fine with it.  I genuinely liked her as a person but then she became a drama geek.  I love acting, I loved drama, but the drama kids were…. DRAMA.  Having sex with one another, doing drugs, being assholes, just the type of people I didn’t want to be associated with and for that Chrissy started a rumor.  So here’s to Chrissy for pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes, may you get everything that’s coming to you.

Procrastination

Tags

cheating, ex, humor, life, mental-health, procrastination, school, sex, studies

Most annoying quote I have ever read on facebook was written by the girl my ex cheated on me with…..

“Procrastination is like masturbation, in the end you are just fu**ing yourself.”

 

I am sure it rubbed me the wrong way for countless reasons, but besides the fact that she clearly didn’t know how to satisfy her own self therefore had to jump on other girls men, I am a horrible procrastinator.  I am pretty sure I learned this in grade school, when the material wasn’t challenging enough for me, so I had to make it interesting. 

 

In high school that burned me multiple times, because the material was not too easy, I was in honors and AP classes, but I still operated like I could get everything done at the last minute and get good grades.  Unfortunately for my college self for the most part I did.

 

So college the second time around I have been really good about staying on top of things, then I get a class that is so lax we were able to do 13 tests WHENEVER WE WANTED!  If we did them in the time frame she mapped out, then one was able to get 2 extra questions worth extra points. 

The left side is when it should have been done, the right side is when I did it.

 

This was the end result.  There were 36 extra credit points possible and if I would have just done three of those I would have gotten a B in the class.  So I guess I really did fu** myself.

Random Act of Kindness (gone horribly awry)

Tags

cell phone, crazy, diary, fear, funny, kind, life, people, school, sort of, stalker, tracking

Last night while seething over the fact that it took twenty minutes to find a parking spot for my six o’clock class, a guy down the path from me walked up saying “This is strange, but I left my phone in my classroom, could I possibly borrow your phone… ARE YOU A TEACHER HERE?” His brown eyes pleading for help.

I informed him I was not a teacher and we stood in silence for a little while.  I figured he was going to use my phone to call a friend to come get him, or cancel a date.  I handed it to him not really thinking twice about it; though I hoped he would hurry so I wouldn’t be late to class.

“I am going to text my phone if that is ok?”  He said shuffling his black backpack back and forth.

“That’s fine.”  I said, wondering what that had to do with tracking his phone at all.

He text his phone, gave me a really half-assed thank you and then went on his merry way; I ran to class.

When I got to the classroom door I took out my phone to look at the time, with five minutes to spare I decided to see what he text himself.

 

Not Pray like Pray to God for this day which honestly would have been creepy enough.

Prey like he is the Predator and I am the Prey.

Be careful who you lend your phone to, people are CRAZY!

 

 

 

Random fact

Tags

blog, diary, humor, life, me, nerd, people, personal, school, thoughts

I am in college for the second time now, I gave up on it for about ten years and now I am about two semesters away from graduating…

Sadly I have to take a Chemistry course (I have already taken, but for some reason it didn’t transfer, which is fine I actually like Chemistry it’s just sad because it’s costing me about 9 million dollars to take this class) I cracked open the book today as it is the third day into my summer school class and I don’t need my GPA to suffer from a class I could do really well in if I apply myself.

The first sentence explained Global Warming… fine that was kind of interesting, but then it got more in depth and explained that +and- mean positive and negative (ok we learned that in 3^rd grade, maybe 4^th).  The boring beat you over the head information keep pouring from the pages, but then page three Scientific Notation was explained…

the example given was:

10^2 = 1 x 10 x 10 x 10= 1000

Holy shit, that is never ever ever the correct answer… no (10^2=100, 10^3=1000).  Can I just get an A for recognizing that was completely incorrect, and I not have to go back into the cobwebbed parts of my mind to remember that HCl is hydrogen chloride?  Or H2O2 is hydrogen peroxide?  Let me just curl up with a nice psychology book and call me when the class gets interesting, thanks.

basically I’m a nerd