The Worldly Classification of Popularity. AKA: Why You Suck and What You Need to Change.

     Where am I? I think it's more than obvious that I'm not at the top of the social food chain. Google tries to be nice and create a pyramid, but we all know it's a food chain. Let's face it, whoever is on the top feeds off of the bribes, desperation, and special favors of everyone at the bottom who doesn't want their social status cremated. In a traditional high school, the 'Preps' win over the teachers, the entire student body, and any mindless clones who happen to make eye contact with them. The 'Druggies' are typically only admired because they have direct access to the drugs that everyone wants to become at least slightly popular. The 'Skaters' can balance on wood with wheels and hide their greasy hair with ugly beanies. They're obviously only liked for their center of gravity. The 'Rockstars'...ha! What? Why are they up there? What does that even mean? Uhm...people like electric guitars I guess. Anyway...the 'Nerds and Geeks' wear button up, plaid shirts, pants that are too small, and talk nonstop about dragons, video games, and all two experiences they've had communicating with the opposite sex. The 'Artists' speak in riddles and never, under any circumstances, take out their ear buds. The 'Goths' dress in black, purposely paint on a pasty face, and enjoy scaring kids as a weekend hobby. The "Emo, Scene, Outcasts, etc" don't talk to anyone, write profanity on the bathroom stalls, and frequently get knocked over by passing kids.

     Surely I'm not the only one who is ready to bomb Hollywood.

     Cliques and the "in-crowd" have been ever so slightly pushing my buttons of late. And it's not for the reason that most people think. Most people try to brush off my agitation with the same old, "You're just jealous you're not hanging out with them." And yes, the few people I do play with say 'them' as if they were discussing infectious tumors seeping puss out of clogging pores.

     Sorry, that was a bit graphic.

     But, here's the thing: I'm really not. Their existence in general just irks me.
     I'm tired of listening to dumb people talk.
     I'm tired of listening to cheerleaders gossip.
     I'm tired of hearing annoying sounds in the middle of a lecture.
     I'm tired of finding garbage in my locker.

     I'm tired of knowing that the traditional high school popularity food chain is slowly closing in on me.

     Maeser was once a place of unity and equality. The few cliques that popped up died out fast and each person was unique. Why else do you think it received an instant success? Students outside of Maeser claim that the only reason it's a good school is because they only let freakishly smart kids in. Really? Where'd you escape from?! It's a good school because they teach us to be individuals, to be independent, to question the status quo, and to discover truth for ourselves. Lately though, it's been falling back a little bit. Not incredulously, but enough to irritate me some. In two weeks there were three drug busts. Suspensions and expulsions are being handed out like China hands out babies. The bobble-head girls walk shoulder to shoulder in our four-foot wide halls making getting past them about as difficult as squeezing toothpaste back into the tube. And, to top it all off, lice has been reported. Nice guys. Heaven forbid, you could wash your hair.

     I get annoyed over small, asinine things.
     Perhaps it's my arrogance becoming a little more receptive.
     Maybe I'm tired.
     Maybe I'm hungry.

     Whatever the cause, I'm protesting certain people's existence. I have a list of all the people who send me into anxiety attacks. I'll stand in the hall, every day, for 36 days with my harmonica and poster board of whoever I choose on my list.
     
     I'm mad.
     I'm ranting.

     I think I'm all done now.
     Whit Happens