Monday, January 03, 2005
What a day.
As I sit here to write, I am perplexed. Most people have trouble coming up with anything to write, but here I am ready to rant, rave and diss. But I've no idea where to start. Today was the third day of a new year, and the first day of school. As such I'd have expected such a day to be serious and enjoyable, one of which wouldn't require me to input into this blog and spew up jokes every two sentences. Like the past few sentences, for instance. You may not notice the jokes, but they're there, you unsophisticated mind you.
So, to kick things off, I know. Lets play a little game. You know, the one where I say something, and you say something back? You can go.
"So Jeremy. Was your first day in school a good one?"
"SHUT THE HELL UP. I'LL CUT YOU."
The morning starts smoothly enough, with me probably spending 4 hours sleeping and the remaining 2 convincing myself to actually open my eyes. I wake up at 6, relatively early and ready to go all Gung-Ho and Carpe Diem. My mother drives me to school, and its a very jolly drive.
Jolly of course, until the car behind us decides to smash its front into the rear of my mom's car.
The car ahead of us slowed, and so did we. Of course, we didn't expect a trend to form anytime soon. A bleep, a bang, and a whole lot of screaming, and the next thing we knew the car behind us lacked an integral part of its front: Its front.
It had taken a deep dive into the edge of the rear. Of course, we all know that with a smaller surface area comes a larger pressure. Car pieces were practically flying everywhere as I felt the car rise from the earth and hit it again. There were a dozen things I could have been worried about. My mom, I, being late for school or the person behind me. I could have been worried that more people would decide to join in the road rash. But no, in my head I could only hear one sound, that large "HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!" cheer I heard on the radio.
Never before did it seem so ominous. It was but a tiny feeling at first, but when I finally reached Catholic junior College my suspicions were confirmed: Something was terribly wrong. And it wasn't just the smell.
And so we come to the building itself. Now, many things come to mind when one sees the building, most of which are vile profanities. But to me, I thought of the place as old. Old and haunted.
Allow me to explain. I am NOT exaggerating when i say the damned place looks older than Stonehenge. The walls of the place in general are a shade of dirty yellow, not unlike the many urinals we have in the toilets. Except they don't have aromatic soaps at the bottom to keep it from stinking. The corners are filled with more moss per unit area than Orlando Bloom has fans, and that number is only rivaled by the large cracks that span across the walls and ceilings (Some of which end up creating constellations) the students are proud of. I wouldn't blame them. If I had stayed there a year my sense of judgment would have been off tangent as well.
But the architect was smart enough to include a bus stop in his design for some semblance of shelter. Comparing the school to said bus stop would be like comparing a garbage lid to a bomb shelter. Using the school to hide from any sort of disaster would be like putting up an umbrella against a volcanic eruption, in that you'd not only fail horribly, you'll also look really stupid in the process. There are a hundred things that could be said about the compound, most of which would circulate around the fact the school's weaker than the coffin you'd find yourself in thereafter.
I still give te junior college a chance. I feel it can redeem itself and impress me in the process.
Which brings us to the people, and the principle of course. The principle is much unlike many others in that he is a Holy man. A brother. A rotund man who moves around in a large white blouse. But the principle is ALSO much unlike many holy men in that he is very sarcastic, and very vicious. During his speeches he has called people pests, idiots, morons, and my favorite- bloody fools. He's a winner, definitely, but one must wonder if he calls his congregation jackasses or something. It also makes me very wary when receiving the body of Christ from the man. He definitely isn't hard to spot, though. Look for the fat friar in a straight jacket.
As for the overly jolly and overenthusiastic orientation group leaders... Well. I'm sure they would have seemed tons cooler if they hadn't treated us as five year olds, or sixteen year old retards. They were friendly, of course. But the things the tried to teach us, dear God. There was Indian techno dancing. Now, I'm not being racist here, but the entire killer dance of doom was horrendous. It is a mass dance we're supposed to learn by Friday, where every dude/dette and his/her partner will show it off on the dance floor. Now, to be fair it IS getting easier and more fun to perform and learn. However, it has remained just as dumb. And that's not the end of it. There was a single song where your hand was supposed to mimic a shark biting, and while doing so sing "doo doo doo doo doo du dooo..."
I swear, I felt what was left of my sanity disappear with each bite. In the song's final verse, instead of being a shark, you're supposed to jump off the 'stage'. That sequence was called, if I heard right, "mad a lot". I definitely agree.
You have no idea how reluctant I am to have this... Environment affect me, to transform and change me into the sugar-induced bunch these people are. Should that happen to me, may this very blog entry have the power to kick me in the gut and turn me in the direction I am now. Every day the damn thing takes more out of me. Everyday I find it getting harder to right write.
But I am not alone. Without reluctance I present to you BONUS MATERIAL- The first day of JC for my friend Shawn.
"Dude, this sucks"
"The canteen has a pro, in that it sells coke. It's con is that I've seen third world country toilets that were cleaner than this place. In fact, I take back the pro. It's coke tastes old. You know, I went to get some food at the snacks store. After looking through the menu, I decided to place my order. The store owner told me they had sold out. The rest of the conversation went stupidly like this:
'Alright, i'll have a scrambled egg with sausage'
'We're all out of scrambled egg with sausage as well'
'... Ok. Then what DO you have'
'Omelette with sausage'
Now, the last time i checked both were made out of the same thing. To make things worse they actually cooked the damned omelette in front of me."
"As for the class, all the girls in my class either look funny, or are Malay. But that's a moot point right now since i think they all hate me."
"In hell right now, wish you were here"
How strange. Many a time, when i write such an article, i feel relaxed. I feel soothed. I have an "aaahh..." feeling. But now i've more of an "AAAAGGGGHHHH!!!!" feeling. Well, at least when i exit this place after the course of two years, i can be sure of what i have.
A reasonable education. And most probably brain damage.