Welcome to a series of stories that basically make up my autobiography. It’s not entirely thorough, but I’ll do the best I can with the memories locked away inside my head. Could be therapeutic for me. Could be humorous for you. Either way, enjoy…
Previously on Life Story… I was evicted from St. Alban’s Psychiatric Hospital. The doctors and counselors thought that I was still very sick and believed that there was nothing more they could do for me. They pretty much sent me home to die.
It was fun going back there a year later and letting them know that I didn’t die. It’s always fun letting someone know that they were wrong, especially when their ego refuses to let them believe that they could ever be wrong about anything.
So I was back at home, living the dream. I was slowly readjusting to life as a normal freshman in high school. Due to my unfortunate incarceration, I was given a free pass on all my first semester exams. I didn’t have to retake any classes, I was just allowed to continue on as if I hadn’t missed anything. Of course, I had been keeping up with a lot of my classwork while in the hospital, but there was definitely a lot that I had missed. Apparently, that didn’t matter. I think everyone was just glad I survived my ordeal.
The rest of the school year was kind of a blur. As I’ve said before, I never got too involved in things in high school. The most activity I ever saw probably came from my involvement with the Center for Humanities. I’m pretty sure that’s what it was called. I’m probably leaving something out. But, you know, I don’t care. It was 20 years ago. You’re probably lucky I remember freshman year at all.
With my Center classes, which I’ve explained involved only English and World Geography, I got to go on a couple fairly awesome field trips that spring. One was to Lexington to visit the Lime Kiln Theater. Honestly, I can’t remember the point of this trip. It may have been something that carried over from our fall trip to the Storytelling Festival in Jonesborough, TN. Most of my memories of that day involve hanging out with the other kids in downtown Lexington, eating ice cream, and petting a random cat that I’m pretty sure lived inside a bookstore.
Another trip, that was a little more epic, was the one that took us to Washington, D.C. I love going to D.C. I love the history. I love the architecture. I’ve never been sure that it’s the kind of place I’d want to live or work, but it’s always a great place to visit. That particular visit was so we could take part in something called the JASON Project, which still exists today. Again, I don’t remember much about that part of the trip, but it was still a lot of fun.
And I look back on what I’ve just written and realize that trying to remember my 9th grade year is a lot harder than I thought it would be. I thought that looking through my yearbook from that year would help jog my memory, but it really doesn’t. I know there are a few people I went to high school with that read this blog every now and then. Anyone care to share their thoughts and memories of the 9th grade at good ol’ PHHS?
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