Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.
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| Like The Queen Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content. |
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5 Comments:
Words to live by: Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans.
By See, what I do is translate "high school" for my current corporate workplace - because Corporate America is high stakes high school. Though I find I really haven't changed since high school, I'm just more skilled at playing the necessary games. Oh, btw, I graduated at 16 and my son dropped out so he could graduate at 16 from "adult high school" and go straight into college - neither of us were worker bees, nor did we see this as conveying bragging rights. Certainly my career history is evidence that it makes no damn difference later, it's just a matter of saving sanity at the time. College at 17 was weird - the guys who wanted to date me were 24 and didn't want to go to prison. My son had similar experiences, though being younger than the girls doesn't create the same risks. It makes no difference in the long run, and at the time it has its good points and bad points.
Lawsee - I didn't mean to criticize the folks who hustled through high school. Certainly, at the time I didn't have much of an opinion one way or another about them. I was far too interested in myself and the long quest for self definition. But just as certainly I had opinions about what their parents were really saying. Nope, I didn't take it as a criticism - I know what you mean about parental bragging rights, though around here that's all about sports - parents live for their kids' sports activities. Grade-skipping has fallen out of favor these days and I think that's a shame, sometimes it's just the right thing to do, but I guess parents pushing the school to skip their kid for ego reasons caused the schools to not want to skip anybody. Right now Boss's 7 year old really needs to be skipped a grade, it is totally the right thing to do - he's an "older" first grader and way too advanced in reading, math, social skills, etc. for the curriculum, we'll see if the school agrees. Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom] Sunday, November 21, 2004 Once again I find myself lined up with Catherine.  YOU ARE CATNIP Now, these little quizzes are often cute but I wonder about the answer choices to the questions they ask. They usually seem to be - not much of a choice. Now and then, though, they make me really think about the answer. The hardest questions begin with: “When you were in high school...”, which leads me to think most of them are written by people with fewer miles on them who are, thus, able to remember what high school was like. It’s hard to remember what I thought and felt in high school, beyond a few key decisions I made about things. I started out in a large public high school, switched early on to a minuscule catholic girls school, and ended up, my last year, at a different large public high school. No, we weren’t army brats. I just got in with a bad crowd at 13, was rescued by my parents (kicking and screaming) and released back into the world of boys and dating when my folks realized they were going to have to shell out for 2 more daughters’ private tuition checks plus college checks as soon as I graduated. Funny about the ambitions my parents had for me. They were always so impressed with children who graduated at 16 - kids who started going to summer school before they even entered high school and smashed their way through the required subjects in 3 years. It wasn’t that these kids were brilliant, though the bragging rights to a child who graduated at 16 allowed you to puff that off, thereby implying that you were a parent of a genius. Mostly these kids were just hard worker bees. My sisters and I went to summer school a lot and so our school careers were patchy mixes of being freshmen, sophomores and juniors all in the same school year. That made fitting into the little catholic school particularly difficult. St. G's was very quaint and old fashioned in its thrust for school spirit and class spirit and class identity. The class of 1970, we were. I belonged to it based upon the English class I took. In most other aspects I was the class of 1969 - you know, those of you who remember, the joke number. In reality, I was not part of anything at all. My plan, once I no longer hated everything and everyone in sight, was that when 1970 finally got here I would be gone. I was, too. Not because anybody was mean to me, worthy of my hate, or was in any way - well, durn, come to think of it - anything at all to me. The girls were nice enough. They were already grouped into friends, usually based on their feeder elementary schools, and opened up to let in new folk fairly easily. I don’t know if they opened up to me or not. I was so deep in the blue funk of teenage depression those first few months in that school, I wouldn’t have noticed either warmth or snubs. I know they were none of them deliberately unkind to anybody, though they did avoid one girl with ringworms who smelled pretty strong. So the interesting thing is - I don’t remember what I was in high school. Here are quizilla's choices: Had a few extremely close friends who you stuck by through thick and thin. Nope. I had a few friends. sort of. I can remember 2 and haven’t heard of or spoken to either of them since I left school. Were a loner and happy to be one. Well, I checked this one, because it was the closest, but I bet I didn't look like a loner. I suspect I looked like a typical happy teenage girl with friends. Were high school valedictorian, prom king, queen etc. nope Enjoyed turbulent relationships with both teachers and friends. What? Queen of non-conflict? Besides, I had a couple of outstanding teachers. I am never turbulent. No one understood you. Well, sort of. Certainly no one knew me. Were the one people ran from when they saw you coming down the hallway. Nope Were friends with everybody and could fit in everywhere Not that I felt so, but I wonder if other people thought that about me. I sure had to bridge a bunch of social gaps and don’t remember being ostracized for it. I don’t know. It might be fun to have someone fill out one of those quizilla quizzes for me. Then I’d really learn if I were catnip or molly. And there you have it - a fritter away post prompted by blog reading. This is because all I did yesterday was go to work, buy Thanksgiving food, take a bath when I got home and hit the sac at 8 p.m. I finally got in my obligatory 8 hours of sleep and feel decidedly better for it. I shan’t write about my plans for the day because my batting average is ZER0 on fulfilling plans these days. I hope I can do what I want to do. I’ll know tomorrow. posted by Bess | 8:01 AM |
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