Mono and Gym - 9/17/2006 in 2005 - 2007: High School

I have definately settled into a routine. This means that I am significantly less unhappy. It also means that nothing all that exciting has happened.

Molly officially has mono. In response to the news, Dave opened up a betting pool. We all put five honor dollars* on a certain week, and as soon as Dave gets mono, someone wins forty honor dollars. I bet that he wouldn't get it at all, trying to be optimistic. We really can't afford to have missing band members at this point, especially band members who carry the melody for an entire song. The betting pool is obviously one of those "I'm genuinely nervous and bummed out, so I'm trying to defend myself with a sense of humor" situations. He's obviously already stressed out, and he knows that mono will make him fall behind in school. He also knows that it's extremely painful, from talking to Molly now and from talking to me when I had it. (Recall that I ended up in the hospital, uncomfortably close to death.) Molly has continued to be mostly out of school, but came for few half days this week. She says she is feeling better, and was able to hang out with us at my house Friday night.

In other news, I have remembered how much I hate gym class. Last year I didn't take a gym class. Sophomore year all I had to do was work out on machines and walk around the building, and freshman year I did a team building ropes course type thing which was actually a lot of fun. So I really haven't taken an old school, play-kickball-and-capture-the-flag type gym class since eighth grade. This year, to meet the graduation requirement, I am taking two of them - one every day all semester. So far we have played: kickball, and capture the flag.

Kickball has been terrible. Kickball makes me want to go curl up into a ball in the corner. Kickball makes me realize that I have almost no motor skills - I have to consciously tell my muscles what to do based on what I figure out they need to do. Some things are a little bit automatic. Like walking. But when there is a big red ball coming towards me, this is pretty much all I have time for:

"Oh fuck, there's a big red ball coming towards me. Um... move left."

If I try to catch it, I'll probably just end up hurting myself. The same thing goes for kicking the ball. I know I'm supposed to keep it low and I know I'm supposed to aim it in a certain direction, but I'm lucky if my foot makes contact with the thing. That's what I have to focus on. The way the ball actually goes after that is a matter of pure chance. Usually, the way the ball actually goes when I kick it is up into the air in a nice slow arc, and into the arms of someone fielding.

God, I just feel uncomfortable as soon as I step into the gym. I feel uncomfotable in my gym clothes, which usually consist of chuck taylors, ill-fitting sleep shorts and a t-shirt with the name of a band on it. (So that, you know, you don't actually have to see me play to know that I am not good at gym.) I feel uncomfortable being in an area where big red balls could hit me at any moment. I feel uncomfortable in a class with obnoxious female jocks who yell "what the hell?" when you get out of the way of a ball instead of catching it. I feel uncomfortable being one of the worst kids in a class. I realized at one point that there were only two people doing worse than I was: the goth girl who didn't change and came to class in bondage pants and stilettos, and the balding kid with the limp. I wish I were joking.

I felt pretty much the same way when we played capture the flag, so instead of playing capture the flag, I decided to leave the field and go for a walk in the woods. The woods were actually within the boudaries of the game, but not many people were in them. So I was able to wander around for a while and almost forget that I was in gym class. Besides that, the woods are pretty.

Without trying to, I ended up on the other team's side, and while I was walking I came across their flag.

I did a double take. Then I looked around, looked back down at the flag, shrugged, and picked it up. I started walking back around to the other side. No one was anywhere around as far as I could tell. I couldn't really believe what was happening. I started running when I got close to our team's side of the field, and I made it across without anyone seeing me. Then I came out of the woods onto the field. No one noticed me at first. I kind of said "Uh-" and timidly held up the flag. No one noticed me. Finally I called out the gym teacher's name, and one of the female jocks on the other team yelled, "Jesus, not again!" and pointed at me, in response to which the gym teacher came over and congradulated me. He gave me a literal high five. Then he gave me two fingers toward a symbolic high five, which allows you to go on a field trip at the end of the year with other people who are good at gym.

"What, seriously?"

"Yeah seriously!"

"Oh. I've never... gotten a finger before."

We played a few more games and I went back to wandering around in the woods.

I think that this incident is pretty hillarious. It does not make me feel like I am any better at gym.

There is more to write about, but I will write about it later. I have wasted almost the entire day, and I have to do my AP French homework.