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A third attempt at this blogging business. |
30DBC PROMPT: "Today, talk about someone who gave you a hard time in school or college. It can be a teacher, a fellow student, anyone at all." Good evening blog fam! I'm happy to announce that I'm in a much better mood today than I've been in the last couple of days...I kinda called it; I just had to get it out of my system and let the anger run its course. I don't think I'll be demanding to kiss babies anytime soon, but at least I laughed a little in my weird "I know it doesn't sound like a laugh and it's more like I'm opening my mouth to say 'haaaa' at a pitch slightly higher than my speaking voice, but I really did find you/it/that funny" sort of way. I find being able to do that at least a couple times a day makes me less likely to want to thunder-punch someone and attempt to justify it in neanderthal terms. And hey, we've got a celebrity guest judge this week in the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" ![]() ![]() ![]() So anyway...this prompt, right? I think everyone, no matter what kind of student or person you are, goes through this with at least one teacher or fellow classmate. Some teachers/professors just don't want to be bothered with anyone and are clearly doing their job not because they're interested in your grasp of the subject material, but for the paycheck and the summers off. And there are always gonna be those jerks who can't stand the nicest people, because "they're too nice" or some other weak-ass, shitty excuse they can use to project their own inadequacies on the otherwise unsuspecting. I think these are like laws of nature or something, but I'm not sure because I was never really good at science, and I think they're related somehow. And why wasn't I good at science? Could be many reasons, but I like to blame my 8th grade science teacher, Mr. Pearce, the most (forget for a moment that I've always found science to be somewhat boring, probably because at least in English class certain things are open to interpretation, and math had numbers most of the time, while science is...science, which is patently indisputable). Pearce was, for lack of a better term, a prick. He was primarily a physics teacher, which meant he typically taught seniors in my school. I think he felt slumming a few classes with the junior high kids was beneath him. Like a majority of my classes, I sat in the first seat of the first row because my last name starts with "A". In most classes, that's about the only guarantee...in Pearce's class though, it meant more chances for me to earn his ire. That, coupled with my occasionally smart mouth and my unsmart scientific mind, led to a few head-to-head battles I don't recall undergoing in any sort throughout the next four years of my high school career. There were a few occasions where I would slouch in my chair and stretch my legs...and as Pearce would pace in front of the class lecturing us, he would forget to watch where he was going and trip over my feet. If you ever want to make people like you, trip the bastard that rules over you like the old man who's constantly yelling at you to stay off his lawn, even when you're nowhere near it. Another time, he asked a question to the class while he was erasing the chalkboard. Nobody answered him, and I don't remember exactly what I said but I snapped off a smart remark, thinking he wouldn't hear me...oh but he did. He didn't like it, and he threw his eraser at me. I was stunned that he'd actually show so much emotion, so I reacted in the only way I knew how: I threw it right back at him. I think he was even more surprised than I was. But the classic Don Pearce story is this: on the day before Christmas break, he gave us a test. Yup...while all the other teachers were basically letting us blow off the day, he was making us work. And his policy was such that once you finished the test, you brought it up and placed it on his desk, and sat down at your desk to start studying the next chapter. I don't know what came over him, but on this occasion when you handed in your paper, he presented you with a candy cane and pleasantly said "Merry Christmas!" So very unlike him...until it was my turn. "Mr. Aikin, I've got a special candy cane just for you!" He reached into the box, pulled one out, and proceeded to smash it twenty or thirty times against his desktop...and then looked at me as if to say "You may sit down now." I scooped up the pieces of my pepperminty confection and trudged back to my desk; my face looked like I'd just seen my puppy get hit by a car. And after that, he was sweet ol' Christmas Cheer Pearce, doling out his candy canes like he was trying to, for one day at least, get back into God's good graces. BCF PROMPT: "Head to your favorite fellow blogger's blog. Take the third sentence in their post, and work it into a new post of your own. This could go in many directions depending on whose blog you ventured into." This is awkward, because I had a couple more notifications than usual when I opened up WDC this evening, and I'm assuming some are related to this prompt (which kinda makes yesterday's entry all the more funnier in retrospect)...I'd feel bad picking one of the blogs I read regularly as a favorite because I like a lot of what I come across and it doesn't seem fair to pick one over another. I think what I'm gonna do is pick a random entry from yesterday's "Blogging Circle of Friends " ![]() Lavender ![]() ![]() Princess Megan Rose ![]() ![]() Cobe ![]() ![]() ![]() Charlie ~ ![]() ![]() ![]() So it sounds like Charlie had a rough night Saturday with a couple of friends of friends. That's always an awkward situation, even when you've known the FOF's for awhile, because usually you've got that buffer of the common person that knows the other parties better than they might know each other. I find that to be helpful in situations where the conversation stalls, or if something is brought up unknowingly that might be offensive or upsetting. Could you imagine- I'm sure I reference this every so often, especially during official 30DBC months- if a group of us bloggin' folks lived in a reality show-style situation for a month or so, and had to all get along and adapt to the others? Here we are, a week into June, fairly familiar by now with each other...as we're sitting around a table having an informal breakfast, down the stairs trudges Charlie. We knew he was out late the night before, but we weren't gonna judge him 'cuz he's a likable kid...only he looks like shit and he's moving gingerly, like he spent half the night gettin' his ass beat by two dudes. We'd all be exchangin' sideways looks at each other, summa y'all would be rollin' eyes, and Charlie would slam the cupboard door like the world was imploding because one of y'all ate the last of his cereal. I'd be concerned, so I'd hafta get up and be like "Hey bro, you ok?" and he'd give me this cheesy, whiny bullshit about how someone ate all his Fruity Pebbles, but deep down you know somethin's up and he doesn't wanna get into it. Then he'd brush past me and go back to bed for six more hours, while everyone else is too busy staring at what just happened to continue eating the most important meal of the day. Later on Charlie would come back down and act like nothing happened, everyone would be kinda weird about the whole thing, and eventually he'd end up confiding in one of us that he was forced to throw down with these fellas last night, and he's not sure what to do about it because he thinks it might affect his friendship with the go-between buffer friend. Being the amazing group of people that we are, it would get brought up in a community setting and we'd offer advice on how to handle the whole thing. On the next episode, we'll find out what happens when Charlie talks to his homie about everything, and ponder the mysterious disappearance of Brother Nature ![]() ![]() MUSICAL BREAK!! There's an excellent lesson to be learned in this song; however, since it has "Science" in the title I'm immediately half asleep and not paying attention after the first minute. THE DAILY BOX SCORE: ![]() Man, I really hope I answered the right prompt...how great was it that Mitchopolis ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() The answer to this question posed by one of the two fine gentlemen of "Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" ![]() I always used to think I could get away with doing things how I interpreted them, rather than paying attention to how the other, more successful people did them. This was most evident when I was the assistant manager of a chain drugstore <that's no longer in operation so they don't merit the promotion>...I wanted to stand out and be good at my job, but I'd find myself getting hung up from time to time on certain tasks mainly because I didn't like doing them and was convinced there were easier and/or less mundane ways of achieving task completion (a fancy, official-sounding term I just made up). Turns out though I was dead wrong, and in order for everything in the big picture to run smoothly, sometimes you've gotta suck it up and follow certain protocols because that's the way things have always been done, and that's because whatever that system is, it's worked for a long time. In reality though, the very first step in anything I did for that company should've been to realize I was not cut out to be an assistant manager in pharmacy retail. ![]() ![]() And with that I think it's time to post up, edit this, and see what the rest of y'all are up to this evening before I decide on how to proceed with the attempt of sleep since I don't have to wake up at any certain time tomorrow. Peace, I'll sing along, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |