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Description
It is freezing. I am a tiny stick off in the distance, my skin even paler than usual, a feat I once thought impossible. A thin jacket attempts to protect me, but it is not sufficient to sustain the cold air, carried by bits of fog. The fog refracts bits of grayscale light, and causes the color hitting my eyes to appear vague and surreal, carrying only a mere hint of reality. All other shapes around me are reduced to ghost shadows, outlines. It is strange, how fog does this. It seems intent on stealing our identities. One minute someone’s there and the next they are a dark outline against a veil of mist. Or even worse, one minute no one is there, and the next you are attacked by a shadowy ghost figure which only vaguely resembles your friend. Vaguely.
I only brought a thin jacket because I’m lazy, not because I didn’t realize it wouldn’t be cold and foggy in the morning. You see, after this, the sun will come out and scream at us, just like the cold did, only much louder. It will burn our skin and make us sweat. It will wear us down. Because this is Lompoc, California, where the weather is freakishly indecisive. Yes, that’s right, our weather has ADHD. He (she?) wanders easily from freezing to burning in a matter of seconds.
The first day of school was a while ago, and I remember it as I remember any past memory, vague and reminiscent, despite the fact that it was only but a few months ago. There was lots of bustling. Lots of finding classes. Lots of first-glance assessments of teachers and students. Bitch, bitch, asshole, nice guy, bitch, asshole, great guy, et cetera. Lots of evil ones; Lots of people who do not like me. Many of these people I have not even met or seen before, and so I contemplate their reason-of-hating-me. But I am a freshman. In my spare time, I enjoy reading, writing, and computers.
And thus, it is.
And so, now armed with a more detailed assessment of my teachers and the rest of the general populous (or is it populi?) of my school, I continue my year, just barely slipping away with my sanity, and breaking many things along the way (lots of expensive things, too. But mostly space heaters and cheap “Polish Chinaware”). I have Visual Communications (Graphic Design) first. The teacher is a nice guy and looks like Jim Belushi. Kind of. Maybe. That’s what I think. Isn’t that what you think? Of course it is. Anyways, He is nice, and funny, and many people like him. But it is awkward, for he has a death stare that burns like a match. He possesses the same exact stare for sarcasm, seriousness, happiness, sadness, regret, joy, death, life, hatred, love, caring, lack of caring, odium and adoration, having to pee, being constipated or unable to pee, lack of interest, extreme interest, medium interest, medium-rare interest (as related to steak or other meat products), hello-how-are-you, get-the-the-fuck-away-from-me-now, and a variety of other emotions. Yes, the same stare. With subtle differences. Mostly in the flesh underneath his eyes.
My biology teacher is a bitch. She is monotone, and boring, and bitchy. I think she is a bitch. I am rather sure, in fact. Yes – she is a bitch. Yeah. I’m fairly sure. She resembles a female dog rather closely, minus the ears, tail, drool, panting, et cetera. I do not like her very much. Perhaps this is ill-guided malice. But oh well. After biology comes many things. Drivers Education, Spanish, Lunch. Nothing of due mention.
And then, 5th period, comes Gym. You know the formula there. P.E. + guy like me = …yeah. And so I usually just stand in the corner awkwardly. That period usually passes quickly and in a rather transparent manner.
6th period – English. My teacher is a rather eccentric woman, and the typical English teacher, always smiling, and an ardent advocate of ‘the classics’, And overly attentive to trivial details. Obsessive compulsive could be the word. 7th period – Algebra. Boring, and too easy. Yawn.
In digression from my academic life, I do have friends. We, collectively, are known as ‘those weird people over there’, or any other number of vague general terms. We are rather sporadic, and rarely do we all congeal in one central location. And we are the known unknowns, the nameless inhabitants of an intellectual habitat. We are the things which everyone else knows they do not know. We are also the unknown knowns. That is to say we are the ones others do not know they do not know.

Description
It is freezing. I am a tiny stick off in the distance, my skin even paler than usual, a feat I once thought impossible. A thin jacket attempts to protect me, but it is not sufficient to sustain the cold air, carried by bits of fog. The fog refracts bits of grayscale light, and causes the color hitting my eyes to appear vague and surreal, carrying only a mere hint of reality. All other shapes around me are reduced to ghost shadows, outlines. It is strange, how fog does this. It seems intent on stealing our identities. One minute someone’s there and the next they are a dark outline against a veil of mist. Or even worse, one minute no one is there, and the next you are attacked by a shadowy ghost figure which only vaguely resembles your friend. Vaguely.
I only brought a thin jacket because I’m lazy, not because I didn’t realize it wouldn’t be cold and foggy in the morning. You see, after this, the sun will come out and scream at us, just like the cold did, only much louder. It will burn our skin and make us sweat. It will wear us down. Because this is Lompoc, California, where the weather is freakishly indecisive. Yes, that’s right, our weather has ADHD. He (she?) wanders easily from freezing to burning in a matter of seconds.
The first day of school was a while ago, and I remember it as I remember any past memory, vague and reminiscent, despite the fact that it was only but a few months ago. There was lots of bustling. Lots of finding classes. Lots of first-glance assessments of teachers and students. Bitch, bitch, asshole, nice guy, bitch, asshole, great guy, et cetera. Lots of evil ones; Lots of people who do not like me. Many of these people I have not even met or seen before, and so I contemplate their reason-of-hating-me. But I am a freshman. In my spare time, I enjoy reading, writing, and computers.
And thus, it is.
And so, now armed with a more detailed assessment of my teachers and the rest of the general populous (or is it populi?) of my school, I continue my year, just barely slipping away with my sanity, and breaking many things along the way (lots of expensive things, too. But mostly space heaters and cheap “Polish Chinaware”). I have Visual Communications (Graphic Design) first. The teacher is a nice guy and looks like Jim Belushi. Kind of. Maybe. That’s what I think. Isn’t that what you think? Of course it is. Anyways, He is nice, and funny, and many people like him. But it is awkward, for he has a death stare that burns like a match. He possesses the same exact stare for sarcasm, seriousness, happiness, sadness, regret, joy, death, life, hatred, love, caring, lack of caring, odium and adoration, having to pee, being constipated or unable to pee, lack of interest, extreme interest, medium interest, medium-rare interest (as related to steak or other meat products), hello-how-are-you, get-the-the-fuck-away-from-me-now, and a variety of other emotions. Yes, the same stare. With subtle differences. Mostly in the flesh underneath his eyes.
My biology teacher is a bitch. She is monotone, and boring, and bitchy. I think she is a bitch. I am rather sure, in fact. Yes – she is a bitch. Yeah. I’m fairly sure. She resembles a female dog rather closely, minus the ears, tail, drool, panting, et cetera. I do not like her very much. Perhaps this is ill-guided malice. But oh well. After biology comes many things. Drivers Education, Spanish, Lunch. Nothing of due mention.
And then, 5th period, comes Gym. You know the formula there. P.E. + guy like me = …yeah. And so I usually just stand in the corner awkwardly. That period usually passes quickly and in a rather transparent manner.
6th period – English. My teacher is a rather eccentric woman, and the typical English teacher, always smiling, and an ardent advocate of ‘the classics’, And overly attentive to trivial details. Obsessive compulsive could be the word. 7th period – Algebra. Boring, and too easy. Yawn.
In digression from my academic life, I do have friends. We, collectively, are known as ‘those weird people over there’, or any other number of vague general terms. We are rather sporadic, and rarely do we all congeal in one central location. And we are the known unknowns, the nameless inhabitants of an intellectual habitat. We are the things which everyone else knows they do not know. We are also the unknown knowns. That is to say we are the ones others do not know they do not know.