Originally Posted by The_Chief
You & I have a lot in common, Lucky. High School was the absolute worst four years of my life. I would NEVER go back to that.
I was very fat in high school. Had big hair. I was picked on incessantly. I ended up being the biggest "geek" in the school: when the geeks got tired of being picked on, they came and picked on me. I was what they would refer to as the school loser.
They're planning some sort of whole school reunion thing (since the school was closed shortly after I graduated), and I am delicately trying to balance my disdain for all things high school with the idea of going back to those idiots - many of whom have probably never left Georgia - and showing them how well I turned out... despite their best attempts to utterly destroy my psyche.
It sounds like we do. *takes a deep breath as he prepares to open a painful past*
I went to a very small private school when my family moved from NJ to NC. It was full of snotty rich kids that labeled me as different right from the get-go. A few months after moving to NC, I had a tragic accident... my sister's horse bucked up and kicked me in the head. It shattered a small area of my skull on the left side. I was taken to the local hospital in Wilson (where we lived at the time) and they couldn't do anything for me so they transferred me to Greenville, about 45 minutes away. I was told I died twice on the way. I spent about 8 hours in surgery as doctors were picking bone fragments out of the side of my head. The brilliant - but very arrogant surgeon - told my family that I probably won't be able to walk and talk. Boy was he wrong - you can't shut me up now!
But seriously, I have very little recollection of the whole event. I lost about two weeks, if I understand the timeline as it was explained to me. Call it a miracle, divine intervention, luck, or simply not my time, depending on your beliefs.
That explanation was relevant to my story, believe it or not. The doctor had told my parents and I that I was not to engage in physical activities, such as organized sporting events. Anything around the size of a broomhandle had the potential to seriously injure or kill, due to the now-vulnerable left side of my head. That incuded elbows, fists, etc., which meant I couldn't play soccer, basketball, or any other sport the school was famous for. The doctor had also theorized that I would be prone to seizures if I over-exerted myself (which thankfully never materialized). I already had trouble fitting in because I was from the north and was different, and then that happened to me. So that meant the kids, who were already cruel and nasty to me, were relentless. And since most of the kids had been there for years and would end up finishing at that school (since it was K-12), I didn't get a break. Anything that they could find wrong with me, they would tease. I didn't wear designer clothes. I didn't get a new car when I was 16. I couldn't play sports. I listened to different kinds of music. My grades were bad. I didn't like UNC/NC State/Duke/Wake Forest or gave a flying poop about college sports. My shoelaces were tied too tight. I rode a skateboard. My girlfriend was ugly. You name it, they found reason to pick on me. And since they never let up, the younger kids would see this behavior and they would pick on me too. I mean 4th and 5th graders would rag on me and here I am a junior in high school. Those little snots saw everyone else do it, so they thought it was okay.
Now I can take a joke just like the next guy but it just never stopped. Day in and day out for 6 years, because I started in 6th grade and finished high school there. It was absolutely miserable. I had no motivation for anything school-related, including homework. I wasn't an idiot but I just didn't care. I counted the days until graduation and after that night, I never saw or talked to a single one of them since. And that's fine with me. Sure, kids can be cruel but once we started getting into high school, they became old enough to know better.
So there you have it: My younger years in a nutshell and the reason why I could care less about a high school reunion. I have absolutely no desire to have any contact with any of them.
Originally Posted by The_Chief
"Hey, where's the nearest Starbucks?"
"It is 7.3 miles northeast of your location... and 37,400 feet down."
"Dangit... adjust heading northeast 12 degrees. Where's my parachute?"
"Behind the jumpseat. Enjoy your latte, Captain."
"Well co-pilot, you know what buttons to push, right? Flaps, gear, cut engine, land. (opens door) "I'll have a double cappo-mocha waiting for you: see ya!"
I LOLed at this.