Maybe it’s me but I don’t get people anymore. I don’t understand why the librarians didn’t think my last article was funny. First, I don’t get why they didn’t read it on their own. All librarians fit into two stereotypes: bookwormy, studious old ladies, or mild-mannered, intriguingly mysterious, young models. Unfortunately with all the budget cuts we could only afford the former. But if the librarians fit into the first category then they will read anything and everything. But why not our own student-run paper?
Someone explain why they didn’t read my article. Why did I have to be like “so… did you read that kids article? Oh, it’s just a funny little tidbit PAGE 25 LION’S ROAR, ARTS COLUMN, LIFE OF SKY.” Until one glorious day I sent a kid over to ask them if they had read it and one snapped sharply, “Yes,” and stared coldly (unlike the other type of librarian who, in the same situation, would take off her glasses, let down her hair and say, “Yeaaah. Oh. Yeaaah.”) Long story short: I took them down. Who’s next?
Seniors. I love my class but this “senior superlative” shenanigans has blown up too big. Maybe I’m just bitter that none of the categories apply to me (ex. best hair, best dancer, etc.) BUT AT LEAST I ADMIT IT. Some people have gone so far out their way to secure their superlative they the actually go against everything they’re pushing for.
Example: “Hey sky! Sup my man? Don’t forget to vote me best personality.”
I can’t lie, this whole thing really messed me up. At first I was unphased, but then I realized my traits and qualities are meaningless if they aren’t validated in the year book. I don’t care what it is, I just want to be remembered. I might just camp out in the senior lot for a week with a sign that says “Vote me most likely to be seen in the lot.”
Life would be easier if there was one that I would undoubtedly take. Like “Best senior columnist on Lion’s Roar” (Cam I hope you’re reading this- if you want column war, I’ll give you column war. Don’t push me. Jk ily. No, but I’m dead serious).
Speaking of the yearbook, I got a look alike for Michael Cera. Yea, I have heard here and there that I look like him, but I didn’t know so many people thought that. Whenever I say that, a girl will say, “Nooo, don’t be mad! Michael Cera is so cute!” But I ask you today- what kind of you cute? Want-to-date-and-introduce-to-my-parents cute? No. Best friend cute. The yearbook staff might as well put a giant picture of me with the caption: ATTENTION GIRLS- THIS KID SHOULD STRICTLY BE IN FRIEND ZONE AND SHOULD NOT TRANSCEND THAT ROLE IN ANY CIRCUMSTANCE.
On a totally different note: 2010 presents the masquerade ball; you can’t drink, but it’s okay- everyone will have a mask on anyway. Personally, I’d rather look like Michael Cera than socialize with a mask on. But just a heads up, your going to do the exact same thing in the spring but without a mask, so I guess you can see this as an impersonal practice run. Good luck and God bless.