Well, you might remember a post from RB a while back on TotalRB, titled something along the lines of "The Awesome Yet Insignificant Life of an 8th Grader."
I found that title to be shockingly profound and accurate, in light of my own life at least. So, this is sorta a continuation of that I guess, but a bit different. You see, me 'n' RB go to a little something we call CC- short for "Classical Consortium". Essentially- we're home schooled. But here's the catch. Every Monday, we all pile into our vans and conversions and have a full-fledged school day. We've got great teachers and a good program- but some of the most interesting things happen in the halls. Insane and crazy things. Things that shouldn’t make any sense. But they do. This is a chronicle of what could end up being the best days of our lives.
So here's the plan. Every week (not sure what day) me or RB will post a post (that's worded right, right? =D), switching off between the two of us every week. One week, I'll weigh in. The next week, RB will enlighten us. Then the pattern continues. Get it? Got it? Good.
So anyway, each of these posts will give you a little insight on what its like to walk the (untied) shoes of an 8th Grader.
(They're known as L2's at CC, by the way)
(The 8th's, not the shoes)
But I think this series needs a bit more introduction: on a little thing I like to call profiling. Unfamiliar with the idea? Well, it’s essentially introducing the main "characters" in mine and RB's recounts, so you'll have a better idea of what's to come. I’m new to this too, so bear with me. ;)
Long intro, wasn't that? (No I'm not stalling. The word is rambling, sonny.) Well, without further ado, I present Role Call.
Last you left me, I believe I was half-asleep in a Buick with the sun in my eyes. Well, as deeply touching and strangely satisfying as that ending was (learn to recognize sarcasm my friends. If you can't, don't read the writings of an 8th grader.), the story is only beginning.
So me and my loving pater are making the long voyage to CC. In a way, this time on the road is a sort of twilight zone in my day. Neither fully dark, nor fully light, and pretty much detached from everything else. And it’s always over before I know it. So I just have enough time to remind myself to start narrating this day in the first person before I'm thrown into the halls. Then all else is forgotten as I struggle through masses of loitering kids (Oh, I could say so much about that hall...).
Gasping for breath, I'm thrown from the great mass of humanity, and into the relative quiet of the gym. It also subs as a place for lockers and a lunchroom. Considering the fact that I'm still recovering from motion sickness, kind courtesy of the hall, I'm here for the lockers. Throwing my backpack down (My shoulder was just starting to heal, too =/), I turn in my homework, grab my oxygen tank, and brave the hall once more. I'm hoping I'll end up in the Chapel Room.
Several long seconds later, I find myself standing in that very room. Huh. Guess I got lucky. Anyway, the Chapel Room, is well, the room where we start the day with a chapel service (shocker)- including devotionals, worship, and a pep talk- and is generally the preferred place to catch up with friends. Trying not to look too beat up, I walk over to the seats, and collapse next to RB. You guessed it, profiling time.
Really, his name is Ryan Burns. But that just sounds too formal. I call em RB. Come to think of it, he's called many things including Root Beer, Rooty (long story on that one), and of course RB- anything but Ryan. His skin is pale, his eyes blue (turquoise maybe), and he generally looks nothing like a chilled mug of Barque's. But his hair is by far his most distinctive feature. It’s as if somewhere along the way to CC, his scalp had some serious mishap with an electric fence, car battery, or generally anything else containing dangerous amounts of electricity. Combine this with his blond hair color, and you have a guy that's pretty easy to spot. Other than a victim of voltage, RB is also an aspiring writer, has a fetish for quotes, and will likely one day be President of the United States. He's smart for sure, if not a bit random, and essentially my right hand man. He's gonna protest that by the way. Maybe I'm at his left hand instead.
He's currently humming "Over My Head" by The Fray- one of his favorite songs (Yet another topic to revisit). He’s a keyboardist, guitarist, and generally a wannabe rock star. What can I say; the boy’s a Renaissance man. He pauses briefly, giving me one of his signature "Hey Ben"s, then resumes singing. Before long, I'm singing too. Hey, it’s contagious. Together, we produce something that vaguely resembles harmony. Music is a wonderful thing. =)
Before we completely finish our melodious croaking, someone else enters the chapel. Profile Numero Dos. He's wearing khakis around four sizes too big for his anemic legs, a clip-on tie, and a suit coat. Brown hair, tan skin, hands in pockets. Whipping a lime green yo-yo out of his pocket, he proceeds to stroll toward us, throwing out a casual greeting of "Hello froobizoids." Classy? Maybe. Insane? Of course. Meet Jacob Selvig. My left hand man, I guess. And you've probably got him to thank for the existence of this series of stories. It wouldn't be CC without him. He’s also good on a guitar, deadly with pressure points, and sure to have some gadget (the yo-yo being the example of the day) up his sleeve. Also, feeding him anything that contains higher than 2% sugar content is flat out dangerous (again, a topic for another time). Just be warned.
During worship, Jacob yodels, I try to figure out just what octave I should be singing in with my cracking voice, and Ryan out does us both. By the way people, the amazing thing is that God heard all three of us out. =)
After chapel, chaos ensues. This chaos is supposedly folding chair cleanup- but it feels a smidge like trial by claustrophobia. It’s through these crowds I see Christopher.
At least, I hear him. It’s hard not to- he and I have an unspoken law. Practically a sacred rite. Every time he sees me, he cries, (and I quote) “Beeeeeen!!” And of course, I yell back, “Chriiiissssss!!” A high-five, or something along those lines follows. This brings me to my third profile: Christopher Gearhart. He, like Ryan, has very blond hair. But unlike Ryan, its not standing up on end, his skin isn’t as pale, and his eyes are most definitely blue. Anyway, imagine the most random and light-hearted guy you know. Okay, triple those attributes, and you have something close to an unimaginative stoic compared to Chris. Its hard to bring him down- that’s what I like about him. Like me, he’s a Lego fanatic, but he’s also good with stop motion videos. The results are pretty amazing. He’s actually in the grade above me, but hey, who cares? In short, if you need to lighten up, he’s the guy for you.
So Chris and I have actually managed to get close enough to high-five when I get caught in a riptide of backpack bearing kids and thrown back into the hall. So much for that.
Muttering darkly about traffic control, I’m halfway down the hall when I realize my first class is in the other direction. Let’s just say I step into Critical Thinking a bit battered.
Alright, this isn’t the end, people. I’m still working on the rest. I’m just putting this out here now so you can read what I have so far, and not have to wait decades for me to finish bumbling around on my keyboard. Please please please tell me what you think so far, and what you think of these shady characters, especially if you are NOT RB. ;) If you ARE RB, give me some suggestions on who else I should profile. (Heck, you can do that too, PH) I already have some ideas, but input is always welcome.
Adios mates.
