This Week in Normality — Back to School

If my life pans out in the way that I hope, September will forever mean “back to school.”

Brief aside…I’m available for any tenure track, English faculty positions anyone has available and I am willing to move…anywhere.

But, of course, I’m not the only one around the ol’ NR that has to deal with the beginning of the school year as a specific time to dread and/or anticipate, so why not dedicate an entire week to this wondrous time of year?

I couldn’t come up with an answer to that question so, here we are.

And even for those who have left school, never to have another run in with that fine institution known as education, early September no doubt always reminds one of those formative years. Who doesn’t remember that first day back after a long summer? Seeing those kids for the first time in months, meeting your new teacher, hoping your new school clothes (which your mother picked out) wouldn’t earn the collective scorn of the schoolyard.

If I can be allowed to reminisce for a moment, I will share with you the most important of my back to school memories. During my junior year in high school I had taken Algebra 2 Honors; sixth period, Mrs. Yates. I spent a majority of the class annoying poor Mrs. Yates. When the year began I was sitting in the back of the class. About five weeks into the course Mrs. Yates moved me to the desk nearest hers in an attempt to keep me from talking during class. She moved me back a week later. I would start conversations with everyone who sat near me, basically, because I was bored out of mind every second I sat in that class.

Actually, there was one person with whom I wouldn’t engage in conversation.

Have you ever met someone who, literally, took your breath away?

Or, more specifically, have you ever been sitting in the first day of of Algebra 2 Honors and, as the teacher is making everyone in the class “introduce” themselves, a certain female says her name and you stop breathing for several seconds?

See, that’s what happened to me.

Early in the year this particular female spoke to me once or twice, and each time I nearly dropped unconscious. As the year went on, it slowly became easier to actually have her attention focused on me, due in no small part to the fact that a friend of mine would often act as a sort of intermediary. I wasn’t really calm in such situations, but I could at least manage to utter words that were more than unintelligible grunting. There were a few times, in fact, where she gave me a ride home from school. At the end of each 12 minute car ride I was doing my best to hide the massive amount of sweat that had formed on my body.

During the summer between my Junior and Senior years I unexpectedly ran into this female while at the mall. My friend and I had a conversation with her that lasted all of two minutes. As we were walking away my friend commented that my hands had been shaking.

As my senior year approached my life was at a low point. I had moved into a friend’s house where I was renting a room. I worked, six nights a week, a really shit job that routinely had me getting off around 1 in the morning. I couldn’t afford a car and I was so excited to find out that the bus would be picking me up at 6 in the morning, meaning that once school started I would be lucky to get 4 hours of sleep. My pay was $4.15 an hour and since I was no longer living under my parent’s roof, I was often short of money for little things like food.

I was still planning on going to college, so I had two AP classes (Government and Physics) along with senior English, Spanish 3, Advanced Photography and a period where I was, essentially, the TA for Photo 1. Given my need to work, and the fact that I didn’t have the means to find another job (no car, remember) I wasn’t sure when I would be able to actually do, you know, homework. Needless to say, I wasn’t exactly excited about the first day of my senior year.

But I got my ass out of bed at 5:30 am nonetheless, sat on the bus for an hour, and groggily made my way to first period (English). Second period was Spanish 3 and as I made it to Mr. Hathaway’s class I duly sat in the back (best place to sleep, of course). Just before the bell rang, that particular female stepped into the class room and sat down at the front of the class.

Given my love of sleep, I had been seriously considering dropping Spanish 3 and signing up for late arrival. I could always switch to a later period for English and I figured that if I didn’t have to be at school until 9 I could always wake up in enough time to walk. Of course, as soon as she walked into that class I threw out any thought of changing my schedule.

Long story short…she’s sitting next to me as I type this in bed.

For the rest of this edition…

Mustardseed considers a novel approach to keep the stress of academia from overwhelming the enterprising student.

Tengu reviews the MSI Wind U120 netbook for all you students looking for something with which to write papers.

Jezmon presents a list of documentaries for your consideration.

D. Composition helps us all in our attempts to find internet music.

Stoker considers what the future will hold now that Disney has purchased Marvel…not exactly “on topic” but important nonetheless.