I decided that I have just too many good funny stories about me growing up and being a grown up that if I don't record them somewhere they may be lost all together. The topic of this, my first recant-a-rant (that's a new word I just made up), is the story of how I learned that I am indeed NOT CUTE! No. Not.
It was grade 6, I was 10 and we were working on gluing hundreds of popsicle sticks together to make a lamp see?
This is what we aspired for our lamps to appear like after all the messy gluing was through.....Apparently I never even completed this art project, too busy talking!
Yeah....like I say, I was talking in Art class if you can believe it and I guess I was the only one too because I am the only one that got sent out to the hall. A first for young flibirdijibit.
Yes, there is young flibirdijibit, sitting out in the hall wondering what would become of her next? What happens in the hall? What does the teacher do? What will the teacher say? Will my mother be phoned?
After quite a while, in my 10 year old mind 5 minutes would be a very very long time (in my 27 year old mind 5 minutes would be a very very long time) my teacher who we shall call........ hmmmm..... Mr. Ztruk? yes! Mr. Ztruk emerges from the classroom looking very displeased indeed and here is what he proceeds to explain in the hopes of chastising my 10 year old self for talking while gluing popsicle sticks together during art class:
'you're not cute, nobody thinks your cute (as though they had held a meeting to discuss how disgustingly un-cute I am) so stop trying to be cute because you're NOT!'
then he left me alone in the hallway again to mull over what we had discussed; me and my not cuteness. Needless to say, at the time it crushed me a little bit and I wasn't quick enough to make any smart remarks like....
'so, what you're saying is....you think I'm cute?'
No, I am sure I just sat there with my mouth hanging open (mouth breather for a long time, which also is not cute) wondering what I did to invoke such anti-flibirdijibitism.
And that my friends, is why I am not cute. No. Not.
7 comments:
It's gotta be Fuzzy Shorts. I don't think that story will EVER get old!!! Do the Fuzzy Shorts...well don't DO the Fuzzy Shorts...you know what I was getting at!!!
Alright, that's one for fuzzy shorts....
oh pardon me, it seems as though I was actually 11 when this took place...my apologies.
I'm SO glad you brought this up, cuz I was really meaning to tell you that you're not cute. Nope. Not at all.
I also vote for Mr. Fuzzy Shorts.
I really don't know why you would think you ARE cute? I mean really, check out that picture beside your bloggie-name...
Oh no...all thought's of me being cute definitley vanished with the whole 'sitting in the hall not cute lecture'. I've been one SO NOT CUTE person ever since and lucky for me I've known it too!
Whew. Thank GOODNESS for grade 6 teachers. Who was my grade 6 teacher anyway?????? Joanne three years, Cornish two years, Klassen/Basseran? I dunno. Gonna have to talk to Glo-Tox...she'll remember.
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