Three Foot Nothing 201: Idiot Savant – Part One

This blog post was initially drafted to cover my tragic experience throughout junior high, however given the intensity of my superior idiocy, I’ve focused only on grade seven.

Firstly, I need to lay some groundwork on just how much of a loser I was at this period of time. Given the recent death of Kurt Cobain and the apparent “grunge” movement in fashion, I was inadequately prepared to attend an alternative arts school full of angsty teenagers. The summer prior, I had utilized my creative genius to pen and illustrate a short story dedicated to my parents. The storyline followed a young girl entering junior high and it addressed her concerns on fitting in. There was even a chapter tackling the need for appropriate women’s panties to ensure changing during gym class wouldn’t become another tragic event. Obviously, appropriate by my standards, meant fullback, high-wasted cotton panties by Hans Her Way in brilliant colours of purple and teal.

On my first day of school, my outfit consisted of the following: Black Patent Leather Mary Jane Flats, White Knee High Socks, Red Pleated Plaid Skirt, Long Sleeve White Buttoned Up Dress Shirt, Black Knit Vest and Matching Red Plaid Scrunchie to pull my school girl bun into place. In truth, I had the saucy schoolgirl look figured two years before Britney Spears bastardized it at the request of Jive Records.

Fuck you Britney.

I actually feel sick to my stomach telling you this. Actually no, I’m pissed at my parents for allowing me attend school dressed like this. I mean, seriously, what the fuck were they thinking? Did they drop me off to get shot at this alternative school in the inner city?  Major Assholes if you ask me.

Anti-Smoking Campaign.

Imagine me, wearing my kilt and bottle cap glasses, attempting to pioneer change in our school. I was beyond disgusted that I had to walk through a cloud of smoke and future lung cancer patients to enter our schools hallowed halls. As such, I drafted an impressive petition on loose-leaf paper and started pounding the pavement in pursuit of any idiot stupid enough to pen their name on this document that would inevitably lead to their social obliteration.

This is the exact opposite of what you should do to try and fit in. Obviously my fellow students completely misunderstood my deep respect for their health as a threat to their social standing. I immediately had every raspy-throated grade eight and grade nine emo breathing down my neck. Apparently, this little stunt raised quite a commotion as these same students were dumb enough to think anyone was as foolish as I was to sign the petition. For the record, I think I did eventually get five signatures, one of which was mine and other four were fictitious names like “Ivana Beatya” and “Yura Fucynloser.” Needless to say, the petition was dropped and I had to endure the remainder of my school year having smoke intentionally blown in my face every time I went through the school doors.

Earth Day.

I showed up at school on Earth Day wearing a garbage bag frock with trashed stapled all over it. For whatever reason, I only vaguely remember this story. In fact, I believe it may have been so traumatic that I locked it a vault only to be reminded of the event when I caught up with classmates* years later.

Again, I must have been raised by parenting neophytes. What kind of guardian allows their child to leave the house, take public transit and enter class wearing a fucking Earth Day Costume? I’ll tell you who – parents who want their child to end up mistaken for trash at the bottom of the North Saskatchewan River.

The Garbage Can Incident.

As a result of my bizarre behaviour and lack of respect for the norms of social order, the last incident I’m going to share is referred to as the “Garbage Can Incident.”

A recall this rather large androgynous beast of a thing, who had tormented me the entire year, suddenly become my super duper best friend on the last day of school. I was cleaning out my pitifully disastrous locker and gathering miscellaneous belongings, when she offered to help me with my shit. Naïve little fucker that I was, I thought “Wow. She’s finally come around to realizing just how awesome I am.” As she gathered half of my belongings, she made small talk of how well her mustache was growing in and her plans to join the men’s lacrosse team the following semester. As we neared the front doors, I decided to use the ladies room quickly while the Beast waited in the hallway.

To say I was beaming is an understatement. I had the glow of a newly pregnant teenage mom. Even my pimples took on new life. As I washed my hands, I looked into my reflection and reminisced on the year past. The world really was full of compassion and forgiveness – People  are capable of incredible change and are good hearted. Just as I was about to break out into Andrew Gold’s Golden Girls rendition of “Thank You for Being a Friend,” I opened the washroom door to the hallway and saw a very large, very full garbage can sitting in front of me.

The Beast said, “Get in.” I obviously said, “Go fuck yourself you disgusting androgynous man-eating piece of shit.”

Okay, so what actually happened was that my lip quivered a bit but I was able to squeak out an audible “No.” For what felt like an eternity, a heated standoff ensued with her barking orders at me until she was suddenly distracted by what must have been her belly growling. She dropped all of my stuff into the garbage can and walked away in a hurry. I immediately hurried home and withdrew from the school for the following year.

Moral of this Blog.

Never trust someone that a.) has unidentifiable sexual orientation b.) is a smoker and c.) wears garbage to school – which includes me.

*Note: I know that it is hard to believe that I actually made friends. Despite my antics, I was able to fulfill the role of the loser friend and act as the community scapegoat. Lets be honest, ANYONE looks cool in comparison to me. It’s irrefutably equivalent to a horse face surrounding herself with trolls, as she will undoubtedly look like the pretty one. This isn’t rocket science people.

xx TFN