so... C's running some kind of international manhunt now so this forum she's been in for a couple years can track her down. this blog is the solution, and the prize is her flickr account. yay! go team! this post serves to do absolutely nothing except say "hey forum, THE ANSWER IS RIGHT HERE!!! JESUS!" I guess the weird thing is none of them have found it yet and she surmises that someone actually skimmed right by here.
well, good luck.
7.7.10
dial tone, dial tone, dial tone
I've not been forgotten by the Gay Table, it would seem, even though no contact has been made with any of them all summer thus far.
yesterday the only non-gay member of the table (besides C and I, but I don't think we count) called me. I've known her since second grade, when she latched onto me because I was The New Kid. and she has not stopped. let's put it this way, she thinks taylor swift is punk. [edit: I was raised to know the clash et al. before I was exposed to radio disney. the term punk should not be used lightly around me until I know you actually give a shit.]
so she calls me and like any good person I mute the phone. then my good samaritan brother of course has to answer it and I am forced to talk to this girl whose only redeeming quality is a pool. I only slightly exaggerate--she can find fault with ANYTHING. or anyone. I just looked up some generic names and I think we'll call her emma.
me: "hello?"
her: "I AM SO BORED."
I detest people who do this.
me: "really. well, it's summer..."
her: "what are you doing today?"
oh jesus. "working at the library."
indignantly: "you still do that?"
"I just started three weeks ago."
"oh." FAIL.
the rest of our one-sided conversation revealed not much, except that the gayest of the gays (we'll call her shane after that l word character she babbles on about so much) still might be leaving the school next year. this has been an ongoing threat for two years or so, because not only does the family not have enough money, shane doesn't give a fuck and her grades are terrible. so it's not a surprise.
eventually she said she had to go because her neighbor, who she hates "SO MUCH!!!", was coming over to take advantage of the pool. it was pretty fucking hot yesterday.
two of The Table down, two to go. I'll talk about them when they come up.
also, justin bieber + north korea = I love the internet.
yesterday the only non-gay member of the table (besides C and I, but I don't think we count) called me. I've known her since second grade, when she latched onto me because I was The New Kid. and she has not stopped. let's put it this way, she thinks taylor swift is punk. [edit: I was raised to know the clash et al. before I was exposed to radio disney. the term punk should not be used lightly around me until I know you actually give a shit.]
so she calls me and like any good person I mute the phone. then my good samaritan brother of course has to answer it and I am forced to talk to this girl whose only redeeming quality is a pool. I only slightly exaggerate--she can find fault with ANYTHING. or anyone. I just looked up some generic names and I think we'll call her emma.
me: "hello?"
her: "I AM SO BORED."
I detest people who do this.
me: "really. well, it's summer..."
her: "what are you doing today?"
oh jesus. "working at the library."
indignantly: "you still do that?"
"I just started three weeks ago."
"oh." FAIL.
the rest of our one-sided conversation revealed not much, except that the gayest of the gays (we'll call her shane after that l word character she babbles on about so much) still might be leaving the school next year. this has been an ongoing threat for two years or so, because not only does the family not have enough money, shane doesn't give a fuck and her grades are terrible. so it's not a surprise.
eventually she said she had to go because her neighbor, who she hates "SO MUCH!!!", was coming over to take advantage of the pool. it was pretty fucking hot yesterday.
two of The Table down, two to go. I'll talk about them when they come up.
also, justin bieber + north korea = I love the internet.
2.7.10
mission statement & assorted fun things
the introduction to the subject[s] of this blog:
this will be an account of a certain all-girls catholic high school. it was, like most catholic schools, formerly run by nuns; with the nuns now waning. only four still in commission. [the guitar-playing one, the one that is hitler reincarnated, the senile one, and the other senile one.]
the reason I want to do this writeup? no one has. all 50 members of each preceding class have done nothing but go on about how the classes are all so together and they LOVE the school and all this happy bullshit. don't get me wrong, I love the school and 80% of the teachers. it's the freaking student body that's the problem. I know... anyone with half a brain could figure out by now that all this teenage frickin' angst is because I'm not one of the pooooooopular kids. or because the pooooooopular kids push me down stairs or some other crap.
bullshit. let me introduce you to the three archetypes of students at this school:
1. COHH
these are the nice students. the ones who have fucktons of school spirit and volunteer six days a week [but not on sunday, since jesus disapproveth]. they are the theology teachers' favorites. and, as C [pay attention to this girl; she will show up very often] has said, they're gonna grow up and be the next generation of pure wives and godly mothers. we call them the cohh: crop of happy housewives. they make up about 75% of the student body, if only because not all of them are overtly jesus-worshipping. but they do all worship jesus in some way. [it is a catholic school, so I shouldn't be shocked at the amount of jesus. it's just that the cohh has no motives other than jesus.]
2. PVG
pvg stands for pretty vacant girl, in accordance with the sex pistols' take on the blank generation. there's no point in asking them anything worthwhile; you'll get no reply. they don't take up a lot of the population; maybe 20%. these are the dim girls whose sole focus in life is HOT GUYS WITH ABS. preferably in chick flicks. they are scarily concerned with how much shit they can fit into a fucking tiny purse. they follow trends, which makes them exciting!!!! riiiight. now this is the part where a stereotypical angst-filled teenager would be like "THEY ARE BITCHES AND I HATE THEM." but that isn't the case. since the school is so small, you really have to get along with at least some people. or they will seek you out, and try to be pretend-friends with you, and if you refuse 99% of the students will commit to making your life hell and eventually you transfer. I have avoided that: these girls honestly think I am hilarious. it baffles me too, but I figure it's better than picking baby names for fun and helping out in a youth group or something. there's one pvg who wants to pay me to follow her around and make sarcastic comments about her life. I worry about the space where her brain should be.
3. RRPOF
keep your friends close and your enemies closer. this is the lunch table I sit at: THE GAY TABLE. holy shit I hate it, but C and I are stuck there. rrpof is the wonderful typo/acronym for rainbow rainbow pants on fire, meaning those frickin' assholes who think that being gay means you're automatically hot shit and that you should rule the world. don't get me wrong, I have nothing against being gay. it's when it gets to this scary-as-hell point where it's ALL you are; say, "hi, my name's _____, and I'm a lesbian!" by way of an introduction, then you are rrpof. [it's pronounced "rrripoff!", by the way, with heavy emphasis on the r.] the fact that it's an all-girls school attracts a lot of these creepy fucks. they are a very small portion of the population, but they are there. and they're so loud that they don't let any of us forget it.
and then there's C and I. we don't even factor in on the population graph--or if you asked anyone then they'd say we'd be absorbed into the rrpof. when we clearly are not. oh well... in short, we're the geeky dorky weirdos, and the only people in the school who know what monty python was in addition to refusing lady gaga's reign of brainwashing terror.
this blog will serve as documentation of my junior year, as well as venting. I mean, it's high school. if anyone [besides C] is reading this, watch some drama unfold. by the end of the year, I hope to god I don't have one of those fucking "and then I realized they were ALL my true friends!" complexes, when I believe we've already determined otherwise. I'll try and make this shit at least slightly worth your time.
oh by the way, neither of us is gay. sorry.
this will be an account of a certain all-girls catholic high school. it was, like most catholic schools, formerly run by nuns; with the nuns now waning. only four still in commission. [the guitar-playing one, the one that is hitler reincarnated, the senile one, and the other senile one.]
the reason I want to do this writeup? no one has. all 50 members of each preceding class have done nothing but go on about how the classes are all so together and they LOVE the school and all this happy bullshit. don't get me wrong, I love the school and 80% of the teachers. it's the freaking student body that's the problem. I know... anyone with half a brain could figure out by now that all this teenage frickin' angst is because I'm not one of the pooooooopular kids. or because the pooooooopular kids push me down stairs or some other crap.
bullshit. let me introduce you to the three archetypes of students at this school:
1. COHH
these are the nice students. the ones who have fucktons of school spirit and volunteer six days a week [but not on sunday, since jesus disapproveth]. they are the theology teachers' favorites. and, as C [pay attention to this girl; she will show up very often] has said, they're gonna grow up and be the next generation of pure wives and godly mothers. we call them the cohh: crop of happy housewives. they make up about 75% of the student body, if only because not all of them are overtly jesus-worshipping. but they do all worship jesus in some way. [it is a catholic school, so I shouldn't be shocked at the amount of jesus. it's just that the cohh has no motives other than jesus.]
2. PVG
pvg stands for pretty vacant girl, in accordance with the sex pistols' take on the blank generation. there's no point in asking them anything worthwhile; you'll get no reply. they don't take up a lot of the population; maybe 20%. these are the dim girls whose sole focus in life is HOT GUYS WITH ABS. preferably in chick flicks. they are scarily concerned with how much shit they can fit into a fucking tiny purse. they follow trends, which makes them exciting!!!! riiiight. now this is the part where a stereotypical angst-filled teenager would be like "THEY ARE BITCHES AND I HATE THEM." but that isn't the case. since the school is so small, you really have to get along with at least some people. or they will seek you out, and try to be pretend-friends with you, and if you refuse 99% of the students will commit to making your life hell and eventually you transfer. I have avoided that: these girls honestly think I am hilarious. it baffles me too, but I figure it's better than picking baby names for fun and helping out in a youth group or something. there's one pvg who wants to pay me to follow her around and make sarcastic comments about her life. I worry about the space where her brain should be.
3. RRPOF
keep your friends close and your enemies closer. this is the lunch table I sit at: THE GAY TABLE. holy shit I hate it, but C and I are stuck there. rrpof is the wonderful typo/acronym for rainbow rainbow pants on fire, meaning those frickin' assholes who think that being gay means you're automatically hot shit and that you should rule the world. don't get me wrong, I have nothing against being gay. it's when it gets to this scary-as-hell point where it's ALL you are; say, "hi, my name's _____, and I'm a lesbian!" by way of an introduction, then you are rrpof. [it's pronounced "rrripoff!", by the way, with heavy emphasis on the r.] the fact that it's an all-girls school attracts a lot of these creepy fucks. they are a very small portion of the population, but they are there. and they're so loud that they don't let any of us forget it.
and then there's C and I. we don't even factor in on the population graph--or if you asked anyone then they'd say we'd be absorbed into the rrpof. when we clearly are not. oh well... in short, we're the geeky dorky weirdos, and the only people in the school who know what monty python was in addition to refusing lady gaga's reign of brainwashing terror.
this blog will serve as documentation of my junior year, as well as venting. I mean, it's high school. if anyone [besides C] is reading this, watch some drama unfold. by the end of the year, I hope to god I don't have one of those fucking "and then I realized they were ALL my true friends!" complexes, when I believe we've already determined otherwise. I'll try and make this shit at least slightly worth your time.
oh by the way, neither of us is gay. sorry.
1.7.10
joining the ranks
I just got this working a couple months early. ah... more sarcasm to follow. later.
edit:
I'm going to just put these explanations here.
themes of heartbreak and shame permeate is from this disaster of a wikipedia article and the title of the blog is from this song, which fits our school very well. have fun.
edit:
I'm going to just put these explanations here.
themes of heartbreak and shame permeate is from this disaster of a wikipedia article and the title of the blog is from this song, which fits our school very well. have fun.
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