Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Moronic Inferno

The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz

Keeping with the theme from Monday, I give you the last of my quotes from Oscar Wao. He used this phrase to describe junior high. I have NO idea what he means, really. Junior high was an especially bucolic and productive point in my life. Dropping your bright pink gym shorts on the guy who had the locker under you who just HAPPENED to be the guy you had a secret crush on? Never happened to me. Wearing a pink sundress with my COOL brand new zip-on kangaroo tennies (the ones that are SO cool, I can't even find a picture of them on Google)? Dunno what you're talking about. Being quizzed by the queen bitch on why I was wearing blue eye shadow and a green shirt (um, there's more than one color of eye shadow??)? Nope, not me. Spending the night at a friend's house and stealing the world's ugliest plant because we couldn't figure out how to steal a street sign? *shrug*

Pryor Junior High School wasn't all bad. At least I was a band fag instead of a football player. Record while I was in band (and thus required to attend all football games)? 1-7 in 8th grade, 0-8 in 9th. Come to think of it, they might have been better off if I'd played football instead. I got to be in gifted Biology with the ever-talented Mr. Williams. The man could deliver an entire lecture without ever dislodging the ball of spit that sat in the corner of his mouth. And me? Advanced placement me who actually took my 9th grade math class at the high school? I got a GREAT award at the end of the year. Turns out I made not only the highest grade of the year, but one of the highest grades EVER. In Home Economics. I bet my name is STILL on a plaque in the library.

Moronic inferno indeed.


Anonymous said...

Girl! WTF?

Home economics was the only time in my entire school life that I got a "D". My father tried to have one of "those talks" with me, and I remember saying "I don't plan to be a housewife, Dad!" in that petulant tone that is reserved for children between the ages of 11 and 21.

We started the year making an apron. I used to sew much more complex stuff with my mother at home so I really wasn't concentrating. When test time came, the question was on how to make an apron - as in, make the square bit, then the straps, then gather the skirt bit, etc. But I didn't remember so I wrote about how you choose your fabric, buy it, fold it in half, put the pattern pieces that say "fold" on the fold and the others on the other bits and then cut around them, leaving 1.5cm for a hem and then - and I remember this part precisely - wrote "then listen to you teacher to learn how to stitch it together."

My answer was read out to the whole class, the teacher punctuating it with guffaws, and I got a D.

In Home Economics we had a rotating roster and you had to come in on a Saturday and cook a hot meal to serve the First Cricket team and their visiting opponents. I thought this was disgusting sexism and I wanted to do woodwork. The cricket team wasn't even the hot boys - they played rugby - so the whole thing was a complete waste of my saturday.

And those are my memories of the hell that was Home Economics.

I'm jus' sayin'.

dlm said...

It's wasn't an ugly plant!
Granted, it didn't flower but it was green.

Debineezer said...

That plant was so ugly you tried to kill it with sodas until you moved out to Mary Esther. it's probably STILL sitting on that same patio.