My Mediocracy On Love Life And High School Term paper
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I was sitting laughing. This was my graduation, but I was not giggling for any reason like the friends I would miss or the remembrance of good times past, I was just laughing my ass off. People had been telling their children about this occasion for years, they described it as a huge thing, “the turning of a page”, they said or “the birth of your adult life.” Bullshit, I thought. Those people had forgotten that for their class and every class since theirs it was just another reason to get drunk. I was about halfway from the back, in the middle of my row. At this time in my life, a time of supposed celebration, I felt, overwhelmingly, like a mediocrity. A feeling I was not accustomed to. This is what was so funny. What a sarcastically wonderful time to realize I was normal.
A girl in my honors history class was making her speech. She had sat two seats behind me for two years and always seemed to smell like bananas. Although I had never talked to her, I always wondered if she just liked bananas a lot or if she worked in the produce department at our local farmers market. I wouldn’t know if she worked there, because I didn’t shop for groceries. I only noticed this because in 8th grade our Biology teacher taught us how to put on a condom on using a banana. I still can’t eat a bananas without the feeling that I was giving head to every person in the room. She kept speaking and I kept trying, unsuccessfully, to concentrate on her naive advice. Campaign reform. Exiled Tibetans. Illegeracy. Aliteracy. And Ramon. My mind kept slipping away to more important subjects. Banana girl had no idea what problems she would face in her life. None of us did.
I could see my friend Ramon from my seat; he was a couple rows up. Smiling his huge smile, he was so happy to finally be there. He had been through a lot. Even with his injury, he moved like liquid, a natural athlete. I had met him my freshman year. Like all good friends, he noticed right away what was special about me, not only did he love my flaws but he created some also. He told me one day “I don’t buy designer socks, I buy white socks at K-Mart and have my mom sew Polo into all of them,” I have loved him ever since that Banana girl had finally finished her speech and was back in her seat.
Yes, a mediocrity. The funny thing about me thinking this about myself was the timing of it. I had walked around campus for the last four years with a chip on my shoulder. I was okay with that; I had good friends, good times and good stories. A chip doesn’t mean anything.
A couple years back Ramon and I had been at Jack Off’s drinking 40’s of Mickey’s and talking shit with a our friend Paco. Jack Off’s was the preferred choice for a hang out spot. It was by the river, it was the only place that was accessible from back roads. All the other popular spots had openings onto the main road. In a small town the identity of the driver was known to all by what car they were driving. Everyone in town knew that Ramon drove a red Mustang with a bumper sticker of Darwin’s name in the Christian fish. Everyone knew when we turned off the main road onto the ditchbank we were going to get drunk. So for that reason we always went to Jack Off’s, to save our asses. The road to Jack Off’s was also the road to my house. That day was especially fun because Ramon and I were both in good spirits and we had dared Paco to swim across the river for a joint. He was about halfway across and the current had carried him about 20 yards down the river from where he started. Ramon and I laughed and joked about how nice it would be if the river just carried him all the way to Mexico. He kissed me. I have to tell it this way, suddenly and blunt, because that is exactly how I remember it. All was friendship and beer and then, his warm lips were against mine. Enjoying for only a moment and then pulling away and laughing at this boozy action, I smiled and told him, “I love you.” Then after realizing what I said added, “well, not love, but, you know I mean.” He did know what I meant because he felt the same way, which is why he kissed me. On that note, Paco reached the other side of the river and we continued laughing about smoking the joint that was now supposed to be Pacos’.
Madison Bennetti. Madison Bennetti. Realizing that my name was being called I walked up to the podium and got my diploma, I was slightly annoyed by the timing. I was in good thought back at my seat and the actual action of getting the diploma was a bit surreal. Remembering suddenly of my mediocrity I was again disturbed. I was class president for 5 years; I had played sports, dated football players and god dammit if that didn’t make me special I didn’t know what did!
Ramon had only the chance to kiss me a couple times after the day at the river. All the kisses we shared ended with me pulling away but still wanting more, there was something about the taste of the gum in his mouth and the touch of his lips. One day after a soccer game he had kissed me unexpectedly, his kisses were always unexpected. He had just lost a game. He was all sweaty, dirty and most of all needy. I waited for him outside the locker rooms for quite a while. When he finally came out I walked over to him and brushed some hair out of his face. He kissed me, in front of all our friends, his entire team and most of all, my boyfriend. He didn’t seem to realize anything that day, other then the fact that he wanted to feel good. He kissed me harshly but I could feel his passion through every nerve in my body. Still in the midst of the kiss I saw my boyfriend drop his head and walk away. It was odd, liberating and painful all at the same time. Painful, partly...
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