Wednesday, April 14, 2010

junior high: hell on earth

7:30 this morning. I'd just logged into my work PC, haven't even grabbed my first coffee, and my cell phone rings. I know who it is and I know what it's about ....

Me: sigh sigh sighhhhhh Hello ....

Sydnerella: uuummm, Muu-um? .....

Me: (under my breath, teeth showing) ... What!

Sydnerella: Um, I'm, like, not feeling good
(Like I said, I knew this call was coming, she was dropping hints last night that she might not be feeling well today)

Me: What's wrong?! (short and without pity)

Sydnerella: I'm just not feeling good, but I'm not, like, sick

(pause ....)

Sydnerella: I'm like, sad and stuff
(Ok, this is a brand new one, but I'm curious ....)

Me: wtf do you mean?

My 12 year old hormonal normally wonderful, but sometimes straight fucking evil daughter Sydnerella then goes into the speech. All I really hear is "my bff", "fight", "like", "I didn't say it", "so & so's lying", "like", "my bff", "don't feel good", "like", "I didn't say it" and then ... there it is ... 

"I'm, like, taking a personal day!"

Wtf? Did I miss something? A personal day? Damn my life would have been a hell of a lot different if I'd known about personal days back when I was in junior high, I would have been saved from my personal hell. I'd be a completely different person.

Grade 7 and 8 were the worst years of my life. Even if I had been a crackwhore for a few years, or locked up in mexican jail for some shit, I'd have been happier than the years I spent in junior high. I had food thrown at me, was teased because I was "flat as a board', and was even surrounded by a big group of girls who were pumping their fists ready to kick my ass and an even bigger group waiting for the show. The girl whose lies caused me almost shit my pants in the hallway that day by the gym was shot & killed before she made it to grade 10. I went to her funeral and cried for her though, I wish she would have apologized after we became "friends". I also wish she didn't sleep with my boyfriend. But that was 16 years ago, and she's dead, so .... Anyway .... I remember all the names of all the bastards to this day and will have no issue breaking their knee caps with the front bumper of my car of I ever saw them on the street.

Even when the sun came out a little ... (as Steve Reeves was getting ready to throw his sandwich at me, my grade 9 savior took the sandwich, tackled the ugly boy with the ugly jeans, squished the sandwich up in the baggy and stuffed it in Steve Reeves mouth while holding his face to the ground.) ... even after that day that put a stop to that mean group of boys, I was still faced with The Drama. The stupid little bitches. Like the one who got her boyfriend to ask me out only to laugh with all her friends when I said YES because it was a fucking joke ..... They say 'that which doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger'. Which is very true now as an adult. But not when you're a shy, under-developed, poor little girl from the broken home who is longing for sunny days. Those years broke me. When I started dating my baby-daddy in grade 9 and all the bitches were jealous because he was making out with me at the smoking doors and not them, I had already turned. Bad choice after bad choice for the next few years until I gave birth to my very own little daughter who would one day be caught up in some form of the same goddam farkin junior high school hell on earth. Sydnerella and I are as different as night and day. She is strong, and beautiful, and outgoing. And the boys look at her because they like her, not because they want to throw food at her. The girls wouldn't say much against her because she is bigger than all of them, and solid. I imagine not too many would take her on, even if surrounded by a bigger group. I've seen her dad take down about four grown boys before an ever bigger group jumped him. And he still got up and walked away ... with the shoe print on his face and bloody nose. Sydnerella has more of her dad in her than me and I'd wish any girl luck that tried to take her down. But her problem today isn't about fist fighting, or bitch slapping. It sounds as if she's been caught talkin shit. She was offended when I apparently sounded as if I believed the other girl, but to hear this twice in one week? .... if the shoe fits, dammit. So Sydnerella is at home. While whatever junior high school drama waits for her in the halls.


  1. are right Mexican prison would have been better than junior high and my sweet little one will be entering it next year...let the personal days begin :)

  2. I hated school...period. I moved so much and I never had any real friends and I know y'all think I'm friendly and outgoing and all that, I was just a self-conscious, nerdy, new girl...AWFUL! My girlkid has no tolerance for that type of drama and is friends with mostly boys because of the girly shit and she's tall and strong like your baby girl and I'd dare any of those bitches to try and take on one of OUR girls...they'd never EVER win! I hope she enjoys her personal day and I hope like hell the drama has died down tomorrow when she goes back!

  3. My mom let me take personal days in HS. Oh wait, maybe that was called skipping. Humpfh, whatever, it's all semantics.

  4. blah...junior high. I don't want to remember those days!

  5. Ugh, junior high.... I can totally identify here... I try to show sympathy to both of my boys when they're having a hard time. Especially since they're smaller than the average kid and I know they get picked on. Eventually they have to face it though and that's exactly what I tell them.

  6. Thank you for your extremely insightful and painfully honest blog entry. For me junior high school was pure, unadulterated psychological torture. I can't believe these "educational" institutions are still in existence! The paltry educational benefits I obtained in junior high were NOT worth the humiliation, degradation, and mental trauma I endured. Why don't they abolish these places?