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September 15, 2005, 9:12 PM
Here is a current ranking of my classes from "best" to worst, with a still-single-digit-number of days under my belt.
1. AP Calc AB — It's incredibly fucking sad that I feel the need to place this class into the "best class" slot, jeez.
2. Morality — I guess it's tough to complain about a class in which we mostly just have discussions and do very little work. So maybe this shouldn't be in the ranking at all? Mr. Clark seems cool though.
3. Band — Also not really a class, but I'm ranking it because, honestly, there's irony in the fact that this is the only class I actually want to learn something in and I'm finding it impossible to do so thus far, due to overcrowding of drummers way better than me.
4. Spanish — Right smack in the middle because the teacher seems real nice and helpful and it's a well-organized class and all that, but man, learning a foreign language is so fucking difficult to me for some reason. I find myself dreading it every day.
5. Honors Physics — Teacher seems cool, but his absentmindedness is already a little grating. He'll pretty often look at his own work and be like, "hmmm, now how did I get that?" And he keeps mixing us up with the AP Physics class, which doesn't bode well. Still, I don't know, maybe this is salvageable eventually. Just not yet. It's bad so far.
6. History — The subject matter if fucking brutally boring, and the teacher has, as I'd feared, revealed himself to be a jock first and an academic distantly second. Could just be me being a snob; doesn't make this shit any more bearable.
7. AP English — I have a really weird feeling that the teacher doesn't like me. It's a gut reaction, with barely any evidence, but it's a dark feeling I know to be true. I'm sensitive to that kind of shit. I'm good at picking it up. The fucked up part is that, whenever an authority figure acts this way toward me, I have a perverse reaction of trying to impress them more. I'm getting negged by my goddamn English teacher. Everyone in the class is so much smarter than me, so that's not helping. I should've known this by the end of the summer, but I don't think I'm gonna be able to bullshit my way through this class, and that is frightening.
I should acknowledge here that school is not supposed to be "fun" or "enjoyable." I get that. I hate the idea of complaining so much that I miss the good stuff. I think this is all just whiplash from a summer suddenly killed. I'm adjusting. I'm grieving. Give me my space.
1. AP Calc AB — It's incredibly fucking sad that I feel the need to place this class into the "best class" slot, jeez.
2. Morality — I guess it's tough to complain about a class in which we mostly just have discussions and do very little work. So maybe this shouldn't be in the ranking at all? Mr. Clark seems cool though.
3. Band — Also not really a class, but I'm ranking it because, honestly, there's irony in the fact that this is the only class I actually want to learn something in and I'm finding it impossible to do so thus far, due to overcrowding of drummers way better than me.
4. Spanish — Right smack in the middle because the teacher seems real nice and helpful and it's a well-organized class and all that, but man, learning a foreign language is so fucking difficult to me for some reason. I find myself dreading it every day.
5. Honors Physics — Teacher seems cool, but his absentmindedness is already a little grating. He'll pretty often look at his own work and be like, "hmmm, now how did I get that?" And he keeps mixing us up with the AP Physics class, which doesn't bode well. Still, I don't know, maybe this is salvageable eventually. Just not yet. It's bad so far.
6. History — The subject matter if fucking brutally boring, and the teacher has, as I'd feared, revealed himself to be a jock first and an academic distantly second. Could just be me being a snob; doesn't make this shit any more bearable.
7. AP English — I have a really weird feeling that the teacher doesn't like me. It's a gut reaction, with barely any evidence, but it's a dark feeling I know to be true. I'm sensitive to that kind of shit. I'm good at picking it up. The fucked up part is that, whenever an authority figure acts this way toward me, I have a perverse reaction of trying to impress them more. I'm getting negged by my goddamn English teacher. Everyone in the class is so much smarter than me, so that's not helping. I should've known this by the end of the summer, but I don't think I'm gonna be able to bullshit my way through this class, and that is frightening.
I should acknowledge here that school is not supposed to be "fun" or "enjoyable." I get that. I hate the idea of complaining so much that I miss the good stuff. I think this is all just whiplash from a summer suddenly killed. I'm adjusting. I'm grieving. Give me my space.
Something interesting happened in band today though, that I think is worth mentioning. Mr. C., out band leader, gave a sort of speech today about some of my peers taking too many tough classes. It's true, some of my pals have like double the amount of AP classes that I do. And even where I'm at now, with two honors and two APs, I'm feeling like maybe I bit off too much. So that's why it was refreshing to hear Mr. C. call this out, and pull the camera back a little bit—GPAs don't really matter that much, grades don't really matter that much, focus on growing as a person, focusing on learning something cool, focus on enjoying this moment as a teenager, since, as the septuagenarian teaching us music can attest, it ain't ever coming back.
I stepped off the bus today and threw up on the front lawn of the school. There's figurative language, and then there's being on the nose, so I won't read too much into the incident. But you should know that I'm not feeling that good.
As my throat gets worse by the hour, an intense sickness coming on that I can feel like a windchill through my heart, I thank the gods that I don't need a functioning windpipe to listen to some good music. Those CDs that I mentioned last time? They have arrived (that was quick, can't imagine any reason to be pessimistic about Amazon prioritizing quick service!). Here they are: Music from the Unrealized Film Script: Dusk at Cubist Castle by Olivia Tremor Control, In the Aeroplane over the Sea by Neutral Milk Hotel, and Trout Mask Replica by Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band.
Preliminary thoughts on two of them. Aeroplane is stunning. It's catchy throughout, but has a weird, out-of-this-world quality that I'm having trouble explaining currently without a few more listens. Trout Mask Replica, on the other hand, is probably the strangest album I have ever laid ears on. That's me being optimistic about it. After one full listen, I sincerely do not know if I will ever understand this thing.
Captain Beefheart, please save me from sickness and disease. Let me socialize this weekend. Please.
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September 16, 2005, 8:00 PM
I've been laying in bed for hours now and my mind is racing like only a sick man's can. Here is my attempted documentation of those thoughts in semi-real time.
First, I was thinking about George W. Bush, our current U.S. President. What I know about politics right now could be inscribed on the tip of a fucking needle, so that's not what I was thinking about. This is more, like, sociological, or emotional or something. Just how the dude's whole shtick is like "gee willikers, I'm a man of the people cause I can't speak no good." And how that is probably just an act. Right?
The dude went to Yale and then Harvard. I'm not saying you're automatically a genius if you attend either or even both of those schools, but at a certain point, the morons are going to be weeded out. No, I think at a certain age, Bush realized that there was a benefit to acting like a good ol' boy yokel sort. That maybe this would make him "more endearing" to the "regular folk." That no matter his complicity in warmongering, he could still be the "guy you'd grab a beer with."
I'm not even saying that the put-on is malicious. He might have learned this personality affect well before he grew political ambitions. To a certain degree, it really does pay off to have this type of personality. At the same time, let's not all just pretend that this is all there is to him. He's also a fucking war criminal.
First, I was thinking about George W. Bush, our current U.S. President. What I know about politics right now could be inscribed on the tip of a fucking needle, so that's not what I was thinking about. This is more, like, sociological, or emotional or something. Just how the dude's whole shtick is like "gee willikers, I'm a man of the people cause I can't speak no good." And how that is probably just an act. Right?
The dude went to Yale and then Harvard. I'm not saying you're automatically a genius if you attend either or even both of those schools, but at a certain point, the morons are going to be weeded out. No, I think at a certain age, Bush realized that there was a benefit to acting like a good ol' boy yokel sort. That maybe this would make him "more endearing" to the "regular folk." That no matter his complicity in warmongering, he could still be the "guy you'd grab a beer with."
I'm not even saying that the put-on is malicious. He might have learned this personality affect well before he grew political ambitions. To a certain degree, it really does pay off to have this type of personality. At the same time, let's not all just pretend that this is all there is to him. He's also a fucking war criminal.
I thought about that shit so hard (for some reason?) that I passed out. When I awoke, I reflected on what, exactly, has made me so sick this month. Generally, I think it's something like malnourishment and exhaustion. I don't sit down with the family for dinner anymore because I'm at work, and breakfast is usually some sort of sugary breakfast cereal that doesn't provide for me a single vitamin.
My dad, for some reason, seems to think that I'm doing drugs or something. Just this morning, he says, "Joe, you've been really sick lately, why is that?" His tone lacked compassion. It was more like... accusatory. I didn't have an answer for him and I still don't. What, it's my fault that I'm sick? It sound preposterous. But then he spends one too many breakfasts peering over the sport page to accuse me of getting sick on purpose and I can't help but start to wonder if he doesn't have a point.
My dad, for some reason, seems to think that I'm doing drugs or something. Just this morning, he says, "Joe, you've been really sick lately, why is that?" His tone lacked compassion. It was more like... accusatory. I didn't have an answer for him and I still don't. What, it's my fault that I'm sick? It sound preposterous. But then he spends one too many breakfasts peering over the sport page to accuse me of getting sick on purpose and I can't help but start to wonder if he doesn't have a point.
I think about the bubble on my foot, the big one, and not to mention all the tiny little ones all over my body, some sort of poisonous infection or something. I was skinny dipping right before that happened. Could that have had anything to do with it?
I think about the chills, headache, diarrhea, etc., that occurred after a party I attended. I chugged a beer and also an Amp at that party, in quick succession. Terrible combination under any circumstance. Could that have had anything to do with it?
I think about the lung issues, exhaustion, vomiting, sore throat after a recent birthday bash. I thought it would be a funny gag to spit water on the birthday girl, a sort of juvenile joke. In righteous retribution, I got a lung full of silly-string gas, which caused me to puke on the lawn, and I've been feeling out of it since. Could that have had anything to do with it?
I think about the chills, headache, diarrhea, etc., that occurred after a party I attended. I chugged a beer and also an Amp at that party, in quick succession. Terrible combination under any circumstance. Could that have had anything to do with it?
I think about the lung issues, exhaustion, vomiting, sore throat after a recent birthday bash. I thought it would be a funny gag to spit water on the birthday girl, a sort of juvenile joke. In righteous retribution, I got a lung full of silly-string gas, which caused me to puke on the lawn, and I've been feeling out of it since. Could that have had anything to do with it?
I'm not a medical expert. It could be that all of these are connected, and it could be that I'm just being obtuse. But for some reason, I'm taking my dad's baseless accusations to heart. Am I at fault here? This what I'm thinking about as I lie in the dark of my bedroom, unable to move, unable to feel, regretful of everything.
My thoughts were interrupted by a ten-minute track by Olivia Tremor Control that comes on the CD player suddenly, a song consisting of what sounds to be noises you'd hear in a sewer. I don't know what to make of this. I didn't have the energy to make it back to the psychedelic sunshine pop that covers the rest of the album.
And then I fell asleep again.
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Comments:
one_orange_sock: OH MY GOD i'm soooo sorry.i was just kidding&i didnt actually think you…inhaled any of it.feel better!
Joe_Mac89: Cheer up and get well soon. We need you.
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