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 started my oh so exciting senior year of high school. It was oh so exciting.
Hey, remember in my last post how I said I took Drawing II and Painting as extra electives senior year? You probably don’t, but that’s okay. That’s why I put the link in the first paragraph. Anyway, I sort of lied. I took those two classes during my junior year. I told you that high school was just a blur, get off my back about it!
So I’m gonna have to flashback to those junior year electives. Not that Drawing II and Painting were so interesting that they deserve an entire blog post about them. Maybe they were, I just can’t remember much about them. But I’m gonna give this a shot.
I had taken Drawing I during my freshman year. It was one of those early morning classes that you get to school for while it’s still dark outside. Maybe that just means they made us come to school way too early. It would explain why my memory of that particular class is so fuzzy. Doesn’t explain why the rest of high school is fuzzy.
Sidebar: it occurs to me that all my mentions of high school being a blur may make readers believe that I was into alcohol or drugs during those years. Let me assure you, I wasn’t. I never have been. I really did just try to block a lot of high school out of my mind.
Anyway, I did enjoy the art classes I took. And I’m pretty sure Drawing II in that first semester was just a means to an end. It was a prerequisite for the Painting class in the next semester. Not that I wanted to be this profound painter or anything. I just wanted to give it a shot. After all, I had done drawing, sculpting, and photography, why not try to paint something as well?
Painting was an interesting class. So much to learn about the way colors mix together. And I’m not just talking about the primary and secondary colors. Turns out there are tertiary colors, too. Did I just blow your mind? Dude, go check out a color wheel. It’ll change your world.
Mrs. Wood had a student teacher that semester. I wish I could remember her name, but again, blur. The only thing I remember for sure about her was that she was gorgeous. In all my years of being a student in Roanoke City Public Schools, she was the only teacher I ever had a crush on. And I know she was just a student teacher, but she was a teacher nonetheless.
I didn’t just like her because she was hot. I mean, I was 16, so the fact that she was hot was a big part of it. But she pretended to be interested in the stuff I was doing in class. Once, she complimented my haircut. I don’t think that’s a requirement for teacher licensure. If it is, she did a good job with the flirting.
Okay, really, I could have just been assuming she was flirting because I wanted her to flirt with me. She probably had six years on me, so asking her to the prom would have been out of the question. But I will say that Painting was a lot more interesting when she was giving the lesson.