SHAZZAM
Friday, October 28, 2005
Winter clothes and open toes
We all love when it turns cold. At least I do. Some days it’s just too hot and I don’t like my clothes all sticking to me and the sweat that drips from my forehead, causing temporary blindness. So the chill is a welcomed change. I have about seven thousand pairs of jeans and I brought nearly all of them to school so I’ve been wanting to wear them. The first cool day it was about 73 or so, so I thought I’d look fly (read fratty) and I wear my flip-flops with them. The thing is that it was all still weather-appropriate because the temperature was still in the 70s.
So now, the cold weather has been here for a second. It’s cold, like 50-degrees cold. It’s no artic-ass chill, but worthy of a sweatshirt or something. I’ve continued to wear my jeans, as have other folks. But the thing is, is that other people have continued to wear flip-flops. I’ve seen girls with straight-up scarves on with flip-flops. Is it cold or is it hot? You look confused! And it’s not just girls, it’s dudes, too. Fool, why are the bottom five inches of your thigh showing when it’s 46 degrees outside? That mess is not cool even in warm weather, but especially not now. My parents always made sure my sister and I wore weather-appropriate clothes. If it was cold outside, we could not play unless we had on a jacket and for real shoes. So maybe everyone else’s parents missed the message of normal-ass health, or maybe this is like a weak-ass version of some kind of rebellion.
It’s like folks are doing what they always wanted to do: to wear flip-flops and shorts when it’s cold outside. Yes, I am guilty of wearing shorts when it’s cold. But I’m in PE, so that mess does not count the same. And my PE is inside in a heated gym, so shorts are necessary. But for all you other fools, what goes on in your head? “Oh, weather.com says it’s gonna be 58 degrees today, that means I need mittens and sandals.” Does that make sense to anyone else out there?
Anyway, I heard this girl singing the “My Humps” song today. And she was into it. Really into it. Shit is catchy, but come on, “my lovely lady lumps”?
So Jay-Z and Nas have squashed their beef. That’s cool, but shouldn’t it have come like three years ago when it was relevant? Jay doesn’t make records anymore and Nas doesn’t sell records anymore, so other than to give people something mildly interesting to talk about, what was the point? They’re not recording music together, they’re not doing a movie or clothing line. They just did one song at Jay’s random concert Thursday night. Ok, kind of big deal in hip-hop history. But does it really matter in the here-and-now?
Speaking of hip-hop, I will no longer be Young Jeezy for Halloween. Instead, I’m kind of adopting a LL Cool J/Run DMC style, with the track suit and the obnoxious dookie chains (I got as close to these as I could find, and shit ended up being the most expensive part of the costume…for fake-ass gold). I wish I could hunt down a Kangol or something, but no used clothing place around here sells shit like that. I found a hat that looked kind of similar, but it was too expensive for one night and it kind of reminded me of a hat a bag lady would wear. And I don’t have enough money to get the hat and I make too much money to be a bag person. Speaking of used clothing stores and bag people, the jacket I bought kind of stinks. I want to wash it, but I don’t know if I should. I think my insane fear of getting lice is prompting me to clean it. I tried on some hats at this used clothes place and I already started to itch. Mess is so psychological. I just hope I don’t need to take back the jacket to get money to buy some Nix. ¶ 6:32 PM 0 comments
So now, the cold weather has been here for a second. It’s cold, like 50-degrees cold. It’s no artic-ass chill, but worthy of a sweatshirt or something. I’ve continued to wear my jeans, as have other folks. But the thing is, is that other people have continued to wear flip-flops. I’ve seen girls with straight-up scarves on with flip-flops. Is it cold or is it hot? You look confused! And it’s not just girls, it’s dudes, too. Fool, why are the bottom five inches of your thigh showing when it’s 46 degrees outside? That mess is not cool even in warm weather, but especially not now. My parents always made sure my sister and I wore weather-appropriate clothes. If it was cold outside, we could not play unless we had on a jacket and for real shoes. So maybe everyone else’s parents missed the message of normal-ass health, or maybe this is like a weak-ass version of some kind of rebellion.
It’s like folks are doing what they always wanted to do: to wear flip-flops and shorts when it’s cold outside. Yes, I am guilty of wearing shorts when it’s cold. But I’m in PE, so that mess does not count the same. And my PE is inside in a heated gym, so shorts are necessary. But for all you other fools, what goes on in your head? “Oh, weather.com says it’s gonna be 58 degrees today, that means I need mittens and sandals.” Does that make sense to anyone else out there?
Anyway, I heard this girl singing the “My Humps” song today. And she was into it. Really into it. Shit is catchy, but come on, “my lovely lady lumps”?
So Jay-Z and Nas have squashed their beef. That’s cool, but shouldn’t it have come like three years ago when it was relevant? Jay doesn’t make records anymore and Nas doesn’t sell records anymore, so other than to give people something mildly interesting to talk about, what was the point? They’re not recording music together, they’re not doing a movie or clothing line. They just did one song at Jay’s random concert Thursday night. Ok, kind of big deal in hip-hop history. But does it really matter in the here-and-now?
Speaking of hip-hop, I will no longer be Young Jeezy for Halloween. Instead, I’m kind of adopting a LL Cool J/Run DMC style, with the track suit and the obnoxious dookie chains (I got as close to these as I could find, and shit ended up being the most expensive part of the costume…for fake-ass gold). I wish I could hunt down a Kangol or something, but no used clothing place around here sells shit like that. I found a hat that looked kind of similar, but it was too expensive for one night and it kind of reminded me of a hat a bag lady would wear. And I don’t have enough money to get the hat and I make too much money to be a bag person. Speaking of used clothing stores and bag people, the jacket I bought kind of stinks. I want to wash it, but I don’t know if I should. I think my insane fear of getting lice is prompting me to clean it. I tried on some hats at this used clothes place and I already started to itch. Mess is so psychological. I just hope I don’t need to take back the jacket to get money to buy some Nix. ¶ 6:32 PM 0 comments
Saturday, October 22, 2005
Trap or die
I should be working on some things right now, but I’m mad distracted.
I love how when you search for the Black Eyed Peas “My Humps” that it directs people to my blog. That cracks me up.
So I’ve decided to be Young Jeezy for Halloween. I wonder where they sell cheap gold fronts. The shirt I got says, “Trap or die” on the back. I’m not quite sure what that means. Maybe like vote or die? Or eat or die? Not sure. Hopefully it won’t get me shot. I wanted to be Mike Jones, but they do not have Mike Jones shirts at the mall. Apparently they only carry clothing line items, and Mike Jones doesn’t have a clothing line. Give that fool six months. One dude told me to go to the flea market (!). I actually considered it. Thinking about it, I don’t know if I’ll be crunk enough to be Young Jeezy or any kind of rapper. I don’t know if I can deal with having to talk to tons of people all night. But then again, my friend told me that there would be other people who look like me, but are dressed for real, so that makes me feel better. Here comes the snowman!
Which, by the way, not one of the hardest nicknames one could pick. The snowman? It just conjures up images of dandruff to me. Dandruff or like showtunes.
My weekend has been the bomb. And I’ve actually gotten work done. I didn’t think I had that much to do until I was rolling up the exit ramp home. That sucked. I was so excited to not do anything for four days and then it hit me that I had a paper due Monday. But it’s done, so it’s all good. And if you don’t know, now you know.
I love how when you search for the Black Eyed Peas “My Humps” that it directs people to my blog. That cracks me up.
So I’ve decided to be Young Jeezy for Halloween. I wonder where they sell cheap gold fronts. The shirt I got says, “Trap or die” on the back. I’m not quite sure what that means. Maybe like vote or die? Or eat or die? Not sure. Hopefully it won’t get me shot. I wanted to be Mike Jones, but they do not have Mike Jones shirts at the mall. Apparently they only carry clothing line items, and Mike Jones doesn’t have a clothing line. Give that fool six months. One dude told me to go to the flea market (!). I actually considered it. Thinking about it, I don’t know if I’ll be crunk enough to be Young Jeezy or any kind of rapper. I don’t know if I can deal with having to talk to tons of people all night. But then again, my friend told me that there would be other people who look like me, but are dressed for real, so that makes me feel better. Here comes the snowman!
Which, by the way, not one of the hardest nicknames one could pick. The snowman? It just conjures up images of dandruff to me. Dandruff or like showtunes.
My weekend has been the bomb. And I’ve actually gotten work done. I didn’t think I had that much to do until I was rolling up the exit ramp home. That sucked. I was so excited to not do anything for four days and then it hit me that I had a paper due Monday. But it’s done, so it’s all good. And if you don’t know, now you know.
Labels: music
¶ 9:03 PM 0 comments
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Remix
I feel bad for fooling folks into thinking I updated yesterday. I did, but I decided the post sucked, so I deleted it. Folks don't want to hear shit like that. So, I've decided to bring back an old post. Enjoy.
Soap cups are the bomb [10/05/03 10:56 PM]
I do not understand things sometimes. Why does all my stuff end up falling into toilets? Okay, I'll give you a couple buttons off some pants or something. But this past weekend, things have sunk to a new low. I was using the bathroom, you know how folks do. I put my soap and shirt on top of the toilet paper dispenser. And wouldn't you know, my soap dish thing fell into the toilet. Talk about disgusting. For some reason, I felt compelled to reach in and pull it out. Then, I decided that that was really gross, so I took care of business and proceeded to the trash can where I threw that soap thing away. I don't have any clue what was in that toilet or what kind of germs were on the soap thing, so I thought it would be best to trash it. Why does my shit decide to end its life by falling into toilets? It seems everything in my life recently revolves around toilets and toilet paper. Is there something to this that nobody else has told me?
Ok, I'll admit it. I watched the Trading Spaces where they got $50,000 to re-do a room. That's nuts, first off. They normally only get $1,000 and on this one, they get $50,000! And wouldn't you know it, Sony decides they're gonna throw in brand new TVs, stereos, computers, etc. Where can I sign up for this thing at? I don't want no slip-covers and shit, I want some nice-ass stereo equipment man!
Let me speak on one thing for a minute. Why do some people have to be loud as hell in the morning? I know I've talked about this before, but dang, it is still an issue. Went up to see a good buddy of mine and stayed in his room, with his roommate. Well this dude thinks it's a cool idea to walk around holding keys by one key and letting the rest of them dangle and make noise and shit. That is not cool, no matter how old. Okay, maybe when you're like two, but not 19. We're trying to sleep, and this fool is walking around like Super Key Dude or something. You're already in the room, why still carry keys around? Come on dude. And you know, once I'm awake, I'm awake, so there was no falling back asleep after that mess.
This is something else that's bothering me. Have you ever been accused of caring too much? Maybe of caring too little, but not too much. Who says "Will you please not care about me?" That's crackheaded to say, which I guess makes sense in terms of what and who I'm talking about! But for real, who can care too much? Like there are some people that I care less about, but like my best friends, I care a whole lot and if you are going to be doing stupid shit, I'm going to say something. My bad because I care. I can't believe this is even an issue.
I was totally bummed out because I had to go to the volleyball match this afternoon. I have no clue what goes on in those things or what any of it means. I do not understand anything related to volleyball, other than what you learn in high school PE volleyball. Well, turns out, it was the bomb idea for me to go to this match. They called out my ticket number and I won a prize. Talk about cool man. The prize I won at first, something regarding time in a tanning bed or something, did not cut it. So the guy gave me a $10 gift certificate to this sporting goods store. I was like "Yeeeah man". So, now I just have to figure out what to buy with it. I may need to buy a weight belt. That would make most sense. Anyway.
My music thing on the computer has now played three straight Coldplay songs, I'm feeling kind of down now. Ok, not really, but I'm getting there. Time to switch it on up before I end up cutting some things. Ok, not really to that either. And whoever thought "Liberian Girl" was a cool song, I hate you. That shit has been in my head for like three days. Go back to Liberia, you're not welcome here.
Ok, this is not necessarily the hotness either. But I felt like writing some stuff. Look for the fire Thursday after I've had some time to see stupid folks. Holla.
Mood: It's whatever
Music: Aerosmith - "Jaded"
Not a damn thing has changed! My life is still all about the bathroom, things going down there, people being up in it. I think I'm going to study bathrooms and bathroom behaviors. But then I would totally be one of those people I hate, you know the ones, who always are commenting and shit about folks not washing their hands, putting down the toilet seat, etc. Stupid shit. Pun intended. ¶ 4:18 PM 0 comments
Soap cups are the bomb [10/05/03 10:56 PM]
I do not understand things sometimes. Why does all my stuff end up falling into toilets? Okay, I'll give you a couple buttons off some pants or something. But this past weekend, things have sunk to a new low. I was using the bathroom, you know how folks do. I put my soap and shirt on top of the toilet paper dispenser. And wouldn't you know, my soap dish thing fell into the toilet. Talk about disgusting. For some reason, I felt compelled to reach in and pull it out. Then, I decided that that was really gross, so I took care of business and proceeded to the trash can where I threw that soap thing away. I don't have any clue what was in that toilet or what kind of germs were on the soap thing, so I thought it would be best to trash it. Why does my shit decide to end its life by falling into toilets? It seems everything in my life recently revolves around toilets and toilet paper. Is there something to this that nobody else has told me?
Ok, I'll admit it. I watched the Trading Spaces where they got $50,000 to re-do a room. That's nuts, first off. They normally only get $1,000 and on this one, they get $50,000! And wouldn't you know it, Sony decides they're gonna throw in brand new TVs, stereos, computers, etc. Where can I sign up for this thing at? I don't want no slip-covers and shit, I want some nice-ass stereo equipment man!
Let me speak on one thing for a minute. Why do some people have to be loud as hell in the morning? I know I've talked about this before, but dang, it is still an issue. Went up to see a good buddy of mine and stayed in his room, with his roommate. Well this dude thinks it's a cool idea to walk around holding keys by one key and letting the rest of them dangle and make noise and shit. That is not cool, no matter how old. Okay, maybe when you're like two, but not 19. We're trying to sleep, and this fool is walking around like Super Key Dude or something. You're already in the room, why still carry keys around? Come on dude. And you know, once I'm awake, I'm awake, so there was no falling back asleep after that mess.
This is something else that's bothering me. Have you ever been accused of caring too much? Maybe of caring too little, but not too much. Who says "Will you please not care about me?" That's crackheaded to say, which I guess makes sense in terms of what and who I'm talking about! But for real, who can care too much? Like there are some people that I care less about, but like my best friends, I care a whole lot and if you are going to be doing stupid shit, I'm going to say something. My bad because I care. I can't believe this is even an issue.
I was totally bummed out because I had to go to the volleyball match this afternoon. I have no clue what goes on in those things or what any of it means. I do not understand anything related to volleyball, other than what you learn in high school PE volleyball. Well, turns out, it was the bomb idea for me to go to this match. They called out my ticket number and I won a prize. Talk about cool man. The prize I won at first, something regarding time in a tanning bed or something, did not cut it. So the guy gave me a $10 gift certificate to this sporting goods store. I was like "Yeeeah man". So, now I just have to figure out what to buy with it. I may need to buy a weight belt. That would make most sense. Anyway.
My music thing on the computer has now played three straight Coldplay songs, I'm feeling kind of down now. Ok, not really, but I'm getting there. Time to switch it on up before I end up cutting some things. Ok, not really to that either. And whoever thought "Liberian Girl" was a cool song, I hate you. That shit has been in my head for like three days. Go back to Liberia, you're not welcome here.
Ok, this is not necessarily the hotness either. But I felt like writing some stuff. Look for the fire Thursday after I've had some time to see stupid folks. Holla.
Mood: It's whatever
Music: Aerosmith - "Jaded"
Not a damn thing has changed! My life is still all about the bathroom, things going down there, people being up in it. I think I'm going to study bathrooms and bathroom behaviors. But then I would totally be one of those people I hate, you know the ones, who always are commenting and shit about folks not washing their hands, putting down the toilet seat, etc. Stupid shit. Pun intended. ¶ 4:18 PM 0 comments
Thursday, October 06, 2005
The light at the bottom of the pool
I am not afraid of water. I like pools, beaches and showers. Sometimes, I even put my head under (only with the necessary equipment, however, like nose clips). I do not put my face in if I don’t have to or don’t want to. I like to keep my shit in the three-foot section. I like to bob around. No diving, being all up in the deep end. I prefer my swimming low key. In fact, you may not even call it swimming. I guess you could say I wade in the water. That is where I stand when it comes to me and pools. I like to feel the bottom of the pool under my feet. I like the wall within grasping distance. So when it came time for me to take the swim test, I had some trepidation. But I was confident I would pass.
So they corral us like beef, picking random people to go. I was in a group of three. With the other two folks in one lane, it left me alone in lane two. That was cool. I didn’t really want to attempt any fake-ass conversation with folks I had never talked to before. Prior to the starting line, I had mad urination to attend to. Twice. Also, after time number two, I was going back to the pit of hell water and was accosted by a naked old man. Ok, not necessarily accosted, but as soon as he turned around, it was all hanging there. Grandpa, I don’t want to see that any more than Pearl does. Go into a shower stall or something! Anyway, I go back out to the pool.
I’m standing there, watching these fools. They make it look so easy. It’s only five minutes, I can do this! Next thing I know, it’s time for me to do this. I’m standing on the edge of the pool. I’m talking to the guy next to me. I don’t really remember much of the conversation other than that he offered to also hold his nose when he jumped in. That was nice of him. After this jumping in, I kind of lose awareness of everything else going on around me. It all started out so well.
I jump in, hand firmly holding both nostrils tight. It was kind of hard to get a good hold on my nose because I’ve been using mad lotion and shit to not have my face be so dry, but it worked. I make it back up to the surface, avoiding touching the bottom because that would result in failure. I wasn’t about to fail this bullshit. I may not swim like, you know, a swimmer, but I can hang in the water for five minutes. I’m doing my version of the freestyle stroke. I make it to one end. By the way, this pool is originally an Olympic size pool, but they made it half. So I make it half way, touch the wall. Everything’s going good. I make it back to the other end. I ask the two folks next to me if we’re supposed to touch the wall when we come back. They said yes, so I gave that wall a nice rub. Three minutes the guy said. Three minutes and this bad boy would be over. I knew it would be easy.
So, for the next three minutes, I decide to tread water. Probably the worse mistake of my life. Every muscle in my body was struggling to keep my head above water. Man, how was that girl talking to other people and doing flips and shit? I’m floating, or something, here about to pass out. Two minutes. I wanted to count the seconds down, but all I could think about was how my lungs were collapsing and I would be the first person to die taking the swim test. I know, I know. They have lifeguards, I wouldn’t have died. But there were so many people standing around, watching me flounder all up in the water. I think I would’ve been better off dead than as the guy who survived looking a damn fool during the swim test. Down to a minute. I know it doesn’t seem like that long, but this shit was straight eternity. All I could think about was that I must survive this. There has got to be some way I can make it. I was also thinking how fucking absurd it is that this is required for graduation and that my ass came to learn and not to die in a fucking pool for a test that no other school requires. If bitches drown, it’s their fault! You forcing me to take this test does not equate me having knowledge of proper swim technique or survival skills. I can’t float on my back, so I would’ve been a goner, but it would’ve been my own fault! This is why I hang out in sections of water where I can touch the bottom. It’s not cheating motherfuckers; it’s keeping it very real!
Down to thirty seconds. Everything is tensed up at this point. Still can’t breathe and I keep getting water in my mouth, because inch by inch my head is being overtaken by the chlorinated hell. Strange breathing noises come out of me. I didn’t know I was capable of such weird noises. I was thinking this is what it sounds like when swimmers die (sing to “When doves cry” and it’s funny). I start making my way over to the wall. If they need to pull me out, at least this way there won’t be that far for them to drag my drowned ass. Ten seconds. One of the official folks on the side tells me to make bigger motions with my arms. That’s cool. I do it. Then I go under. Nose full of chlorine. Normally that shit burns like hell, but my body made no reaction because it was so tensed up in response to my impending death that it had more important shit to be doing. I grab the wall. No clue how many seconds left. I know I failed. It was over. I still can’t breathe. Get out of the pool they yell to us. Fool, don’t you see I’m on the verge of death!? Give me a fucking second. I thought this one guy was coming over to see, you know, if I was alive. Nope, he was just lining up for his execution, er, turn at the swim test. I hold on the wall nearly all the way to the ladder. Nope, still can’t breathe. Must get out of pool. Make sure you avoid all eye contact with potential people who might say something. I have no clue what my face was saying but it was probably, “Good lord…” I made it to the wall where my stuff was. Fuck drying off, I’m trying to breathe man! The breathes are coming short and quick. Not enough to do anything. The girl who saw me grab the wall goes and talks to my teacher. Yep, I failed. I will have to put my body through this torture again. And for what!? He starts filling out the you-pass-cards. Nope, I won’t be getting one. Then he walks over. I’m looking at him, expecting him to be like, “We’re offering this again in November. You can come back then.” He hands me a card. Holy shit. I’m alive and I passed.
In all the agony I survived, I passed. I did not think it would be this hard. Now, my head was splitting like something insane. And I’m shaking. And I still can’t breathe. I go up to my room and sit. If I hadn’t died in the pool, death was certainly imminent now. This was too much. After some consulting, I end up at the health center. What’s your symptoms? Uh, I have a headache and I’m shaky. She looks at me like, “Okay-kay-kay.” I go see the doctor. My heart was still kind of racing, but she says I’m ok. Runs a neurological test on me. I felt like one of those drunken folks on the side of the road. Had to walk in a straight line and touch my finger to my nose. It was kind of funny. The med student was cute, too. Tell your friends to get with my friends and we could be friends. So that’s how the story goes. I don’t see me going to a pool for a while now. Unless it involves three feet of water and my feet on the bottom.
So they corral us like beef, picking random people to go. I was in a group of three. With the other two folks in one lane, it left me alone in lane two. That was cool. I didn’t really want to attempt any fake-ass conversation with folks I had never talked to before. Prior to the starting line, I had mad urination to attend to. Twice. Also, after time number two, I was going back to the pit of hell water and was accosted by a naked old man. Ok, not necessarily accosted, but as soon as he turned around, it was all hanging there. Grandpa, I don’t want to see that any more than Pearl does. Go into a shower stall or something! Anyway, I go back out to the pool.
I’m standing there, watching these fools. They make it look so easy. It’s only five minutes, I can do this! Next thing I know, it’s time for me to do this. I’m standing on the edge of the pool. I’m talking to the guy next to me. I don’t really remember much of the conversation other than that he offered to also hold his nose when he jumped in. That was nice of him. After this jumping in, I kind of lose awareness of everything else going on around me. It all started out so well.
I jump in, hand firmly holding both nostrils tight. It was kind of hard to get a good hold on my nose because I’ve been using mad lotion and shit to not have my face be so dry, but it worked. I make it back up to the surface, avoiding touching the bottom because that would result in failure. I wasn’t about to fail this bullshit. I may not swim like, you know, a swimmer, but I can hang in the water for five minutes. I’m doing my version of the freestyle stroke. I make it to one end. By the way, this pool is originally an Olympic size pool, but they made it half. So I make it half way, touch the wall. Everything’s going good. I make it back to the other end. I ask the two folks next to me if we’re supposed to touch the wall when we come back. They said yes, so I gave that wall a nice rub. Three minutes the guy said. Three minutes and this bad boy would be over. I knew it would be easy.
So, for the next three minutes, I decide to tread water. Probably the worse mistake of my life. Every muscle in my body was struggling to keep my head above water. Man, how was that girl talking to other people and doing flips and shit? I’m floating, or something, here about to pass out. Two minutes. I wanted to count the seconds down, but all I could think about was how my lungs were collapsing and I would be the first person to die taking the swim test. I know, I know. They have lifeguards, I wouldn’t have died. But there were so many people standing around, watching me flounder all up in the water. I think I would’ve been better off dead than as the guy who survived looking a damn fool during the swim test. Down to a minute. I know it doesn’t seem like that long, but this shit was straight eternity. All I could think about was that I must survive this. There has got to be some way I can make it. I was also thinking how fucking absurd it is that this is required for graduation and that my ass came to learn and not to die in a fucking pool for a test that no other school requires. If bitches drown, it’s their fault! You forcing me to take this test does not equate me having knowledge of proper swim technique or survival skills. I can’t float on my back, so I would’ve been a goner, but it would’ve been my own fault! This is why I hang out in sections of water where I can touch the bottom. It’s not cheating motherfuckers; it’s keeping it very real!
Down to thirty seconds. Everything is tensed up at this point. Still can’t breathe and I keep getting water in my mouth, because inch by inch my head is being overtaken by the chlorinated hell. Strange breathing noises come out of me. I didn’t know I was capable of such weird noises. I was thinking this is what it sounds like when swimmers die (sing to “When doves cry” and it’s funny). I start making my way over to the wall. If they need to pull me out, at least this way there won’t be that far for them to drag my drowned ass. Ten seconds. One of the official folks on the side tells me to make bigger motions with my arms. That’s cool. I do it. Then I go under. Nose full of chlorine. Normally that shit burns like hell, but my body made no reaction because it was so tensed up in response to my impending death that it had more important shit to be doing. I grab the wall. No clue how many seconds left. I know I failed. It was over. I still can’t breathe. Get out of the pool they yell to us. Fool, don’t you see I’m on the verge of death!? Give me a fucking second. I thought this one guy was coming over to see, you know, if I was alive. Nope, he was just lining up for his execution, er, turn at the swim test. I hold on the wall nearly all the way to the ladder. Nope, still can’t breathe. Must get out of pool. Make sure you avoid all eye contact with potential people who might say something. I have no clue what my face was saying but it was probably, “Good lord…” I made it to the wall where my stuff was. Fuck drying off, I’m trying to breathe man! The breathes are coming short and quick. Not enough to do anything. The girl who saw me grab the wall goes and talks to my teacher. Yep, I failed. I will have to put my body through this torture again. And for what!? He starts filling out the you-pass-cards. Nope, I won’t be getting one. Then he walks over. I’m looking at him, expecting him to be like, “We’re offering this again in November. You can come back then.” He hands me a card. Holy shit. I’m alive and I passed.
In all the agony I survived, I passed. I did not think it would be this hard. Now, my head was splitting like something insane. And I’m shaking. And I still can’t breathe. I go up to my room and sit. If I hadn’t died in the pool, death was certainly imminent now. This was too much. After some consulting, I end up at the health center. What’s your symptoms? Uh, I have a headache and I’m shaky. She looks at me like, “Okay-kay-kay.” I go see the doctor. My heart was still kind of racing, but she says I’m ok. Runs a neurological test on me. I felt like one of those drunken folks on the side of the road. Had to walk in a straight line and touch my finger to my nose. It was kind of funny. The med student was cute, too. Tell your friends to get with my friends and we could be friends. So that’s how the story goes. I don’t see me going to a pool for a while now. Unless it involves three feet of water and my feet on the bottom.
Labels: School
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