I Went to Public School and Survived: An Anthropological Anomaly

The building was like a blank ice box prison, much like a gigantic igloo. Wary and prepared, Hannah the Anthropologist stepped into the holding and training facility. The walls had been pasted with motivational posters and other cheerful propaganda that was put in place for a positive impact on the species.Oh, the humanoids were everywhere! Hannah found it fascinating to observe these sub-species of the homo sapiens, other wise known as "public schoolers". They gathered like clots in the main throughfare: the hallway. Moving and socializing, performing everything on the range of social relations: Communication, sharing media such as art (comic books) and music (earbuds), several of the humans seemed to be openly engaged in the mating ritual of kissing. Or perhaps they were simply exchanging saliva samples in an act of sharing? It was hard to tell.One thing was clear to Hannah, however: A sub-species whose females wore sparkly booty shorts in 60 degree weather would be fascinating to observe...

Yeah...pretty much looked like that.

So i'm not actually a student of anthropology, but that doesn't mean I didn't feel like an alien in a foreign land when my friend Steph and I went to a local high school to take the PSAT. As a life-long homeschooler, I've never actually been enrolled in public school/spent more than 3 hours in one on a school day. So for me and my friend, it was slightly like being in a foreign country. A very small, strange, diverse, and narcotic country which we only spent about 4 hours in before high-tailing it out of there. 

Let me begin by saying that walking around the school trying to find someone, ANYONE, who knew where the PSAT was being held was like was worse than riding a London subway during the evening commute. Worse than an awkward elevator ride with 30 strangers in Tokyo. Unimaginable as it may be, the hallways of a public high school were more turbulent and discombobulating than any form of commute I've ever been on. (Well, almost. There was the train ride with The "It". But thats another story...) Its like trying to fight your way up a down escalator crammed with surly, loud, and hormonal teenagers who haven't been fed yet.

Ok, ok. Maybe Japan was worse. But still, the hallway was pretty bad.

Really, it was like Homelink (the "homeschool high-school"/Co-op we attend) except multiplied and sleep deprived. How the various clicks and social circles were treated and accepted was obvious to see, though. For Example:

Geeks/Nerds:

-At Homelink: Fun, if slightly bizarre, people who often come to class in cosplay or wearing t-shirts from their favorite TV shows/Anime. Usually pretty intelligent and are the kind of people who fully embrace their nerdom and aren't afraid if its cool or not to wear a fez to school. (Because everyone knows you can't go wrong with a fez. Duh.)

-At Public School: Sad little people with capes and action figures stuffed in their pockets. They hug the lockers and avoid people as they walk down the halls. Messy, unkempt hair and black layer upon black layer of clothing. They travel under the radar one by one and meet to play D 'n' D near the water fountain between classes.

Quick question. How is it possible to be high before breakfast? I mean really, some of the people we met must have been eating some pretty potent poppy-seed muffins on the way to school.

Can I get a witness?

The test itself went fine. We sat in silence, the sound of scribbling filling the chilly lunch room. The lunch ladies were cooking dehydrated food on the far side of the caff. and teachers paced about and looked over our shoulders, like silent sharks with monotonous blonde hilights and comfortable shoes. Whenever they walked by me I felt like i'd been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. This was ridiculous because I don't know how in the world someone could cheat on a standardized test. Where was I going to hide my answers, anyway? The soggy tissue in my pocket from catching a cold?

To sum up the experience, i'd like to share this little blurb:

(After test)

Girl next to me: "So, um, my friend wants to know if you're home-schooled?" (All the homeschoolers had a Hall Pass)

Me: "Yeah, my friend and I are just here for the test."

Girl: "Right. So, after the test, do you like go home or stay here for lunch?"

Me: "...go home. I'm not enrolled here."

Girl: "Ohhhh, ok."

Sigh. I know several public schoolers and most of them are nice, funny, and intelligent. I guess they were all home sick that day. If you are a public schooler, a home schooler, or any other type of schooler I may not know about, please don't be offended. I'm writing commentary on the not-too-fabulous side of public school that I experienced, but its not like I attend or can say I know everything. Plus, its the person that comes out and not the place they come from that counts. I love you all. Except you, the one with "I Heart Math" t-shirt. You need help.

Bottom line, you aren't missing out on anything by not going to public school and it isn't the hellish place that some people make it out to be. Light purgatory, maybe. But they do give you your own cubby-hole.

Go Lions,

~Hannah

The Exploits and Aliases of Emma: Streaker Extraordinaire

Emma is an enigma. Part 4 year old sister, part adorable blonde midget, part fruit loop, part hidden evil mastermind. In my mother's own words, "She is the most bizarre child." (Obviously she has forgotten my
childhood...)

Usually a jolly little elf, Emma ran to me this morning and clutched my leg, weeping. It was sudden, becaause i'd seen her only a moment earlier passionately kissing a door. She claims she was prodded with a garden tool by Glory (Most Wanted Sisiter #2). Who knows if it really did happen or what Emma did to provoke Glory, but in the end her fashion choices saved her hide. Nothing could pierce the multiple layers of leotards, frilly blouses, sweaters with embroidered Eskimos, and corduroy jumpers she wears. Jumpers, plural. Oh, and a tutu.

From the moment she was born she has been...unusual. I still remember playing with her when she was a freshly-baked little bun of a baby with crystal blue eyes and a a blonde, Vulcan-like hairstyle. Truly, she looked like a her mother was an angel and her father Spock. Anyway, so there we are. I, waving my arms around and contorting my face like a fool to entertain her. Emma, sitting in her car seat and laughing at this strange creature before her. In a, what I thought, show of sisterly affection she reached up and grabbed my hand. Smiling sweetly, she bit. For a toothless toddler her bite was worse than her bark. I can truthfully say that while she was growing out of her baby-hood I was nearly gummed to death several times.

I love her to cupcakes, but there have been trying circumstances. Most teenagers will invent a plethora of excuses why their homework is late:

"I accidentally put it in the offering at Church!"


"The school bully stole it from me at lunch!"


"Well, you see, I have this medical condition..."


"I was speeding and the cop took my essay to hold against me in court."


"I was abducted by aliens and they are currently using my homework to learn about the human mind."


"My/A (animal) ate it."


"It was pick-pocketed!"


"Oh, the book publisher has it to review for becoming their next novel."

You get the jist. Well, I have a honest-to-goodness excuses why my homework is missing, thanks to my lovely sister:

"Sorry, my sister found my homework and chewed it up."


"Oh, that paper! My sister Emma colored on it."


"The math problems were all done but my sister buried it in the garden for "treasure hunt"."


and, my favorite,


"I'm sorry, I had it completed but my little sister Emma peed on it."

Yes, peed. All over the literature assignment that I had hand-written. The potty-training years were hard on us all.

I no longer have to say, "What child? The one kissing that stranger's car? Nope, don't know her." Emma has started to give out aliases and completely re-writing her life story. At the doctor's office, for example:

Disco Doctor (thats a whole other story): "So, whats your name little girl?"

Emma: "Christina Georgey."

Me: "No, its not. It's Emma."

Emma (completely serious): "No. I'm Alice Georgy."

Me: "You said Christina."

Emma (Patting my knee pityingly): "You are wroooooong, Hannah.It's my new names."

When my Dad went to go pick-up Emma from the sunday school of a church we were visiting, the teacher looked shocked to see him. Emma quickly cleared up the confusion for everyone. "Oh, Daddddy! You are my other Daddy. My first Daddy died in the war. But then I married you!" Really, how long will it take these big-people to understand the simplest things?

Despite years of experience with the mysterious midget, she still manages to surprise me. Who wouldn't do a double-take when they glanced out the window to see their little sister, buck-naked, streaking with wild abandon through the yard for everyone to see?

This is exactly what she looked like. Only, more secretive and less frosting.

So thats it for now, its been awhile since I checked on my sisters and they've been scarily quiet. Past times when this has happened i've found them doing such delightful childhood activities such as, oh you know, having a tea party with creek water and a tea-time snack of rocks and dirt (which Emma tried to eat). Oh, or hunting down one of my friends and pantsing them. Yes, this really has happened. Or hosting stuffed-animal cage fighting in the garage. But, come what may, life is never dull with Emma around. Hilariously humiliating, maybe.But never dull.

I love you, Emma.

My sisters are the darndest things,
-Hannah

Things I Don't Know About (aka Sports)

Google Images. Like Every other picture unless I specify.

I looked over my blog this week and realized that I write about a lot of the same stuff over and over. I write a lot about food (its just that good), dancing, math, trips I promise to write about eventually (but never do because I'd never stop), sleep (or lack there-of), and everything is splattered in lolcatz and gifs. I think I might have a slight fascination...

Anyway, things are gonna change around here. Today i'm going to write only about things I don't know about, breaking one of the time-tested rules of literature. Well, literary rules can go hide under the sofa and read Wooster and Jeeves until i'm done.

So...things I don't know about. This could take awhile.

-Football
Albert Pujols plays football, right? Or-wait. Nevermind.
Football is one of the more interesting sports. People being tackled, dog piled, and occasionally breaking a femur. What I want to know is who's idea it was to dress the players in skin-tight spandex and padded shirts? They have one a sadistic stylist.
See http://hannah-hoo.blogspot.com/2011/02/wheres-etrade-baby.html

-Baseball

I do have experience with baseball! Well, if dancing on the field during Global Day of Prayer counts. Baseball has got to be the slowest game known to man besides snail racing and competitive paint drying. However, the last baseball game I went to was not a complete bust. I got ice-cold coke, a hot dog, and finishe Fantastic Spiderman, Volume 1. Besides that I vaguely remember that the cardinals were playing a blue team. You can guess who won. (Sorry, Matt and all people who love that all-american past time. Go here for a buddy:http://hometowndiscount.blogspot.com/)

-Golf
WHY? What makes people want to watch as people hit a little white ball with a little silver stick into a little green hole. Golf does, however, make excellent TV to watch when you need a good nap.

Honestly, the only reason i'd watch golf is this guy.

-Tennis
David Tate is the only person who has ever made tennis sound interesting, I have to say. So that elevates it to being more interesting than baseball, less interesting than football. At least people occasionally get pelted with a furry green ball. Now that's entertaining.

(Ok, lets just assume for the moment i'm virtually clueless about everything sports-related. But I do like soccer.)

-Being enrolled in real, honest-to-badness public school. Sure, i've seen the movies and read the books about the pop facade of High School, but i've never actually experienced it for myself. The few times I have stepped into a public school (for testing, contests, etc.) everyone seems to be sleepwalking.And texting.

-Having Short Hair
Correction, I did have short hair when I was about 6. Then I watched the Disney princess movies and had the idea that princesses have long hair firmly stuck into my little cranium. Now its waist-length and I don't know if I could ever just snip-snap  it all off. Plus it really would come in handy as a scarf, an aid for tower-climbing princes, and for strangling attackers. Or anyone who tries to cut it.

-Being in a romantic relationship
The closest thing i've had to a boyfriend is Peter Pan when I was 10. Like every relationship, we had our problems. Him being fictional was the tie-breaker. Honestly, i'd like to wait for romance until college. I don't want to give away little pieces of my heart to short-term boyfriends to only meet my future husband and bestow him with swiss-cheese affection. Not to say that dating in high school isn't right for everyone, its just what I choose. I know i'm not ready, at least at this moment in time, to deal with someone else's emotions as well as my own. Someday, some lucky guy.

-The Simpsons
Yup, i'm in that 10% minority that hasn't seen an episode of the Simpsons. Just a clip or commercial here or there.

-Twilight (Books and Movies)
...and i'm also the minority that hasn't seen/read Twilight. Unattractive, undead, pale, sparkly vampire dudes just aren't my cup of tea. Nor guys who can't keep their shirt on and have excessive hair issues, though shapeshifters are much more pulchy than bloodsuckers. Probably the real reason I haven't read/watched the series is i'm too easily hooked on "doomed romance" cliff-hanger series.

(I'm really in a lot of minorities, huh? But, still human. Probably. ;)

-Politics
This is like the floor of a movie theater: a sticky subject and something I don't usually stay on for too long if I can help it. I know the basics: Total government control: bad.This guy is the good guy, you want him to win the election. This guy is the bad guy, you don't want him to win. They will challenge each other to a traditional duel with swords to become president of the united states. See? I know everything I need to about our government.

-Being an only child
Oh, that fabled childhood of the chosen few. Still, I wouldn't trade my siblings for the world (unless it comes with chocolate rivers and cotton candy clouds). My years of being a older sister/default mother have trained me well. I can change a diaper in my sleep, repair stuffed animals with super glue and paper clips, and carry multiple children at once. Being a mister (fake mother/sister) has given me a love of children, the skills to care for my own children in the future, and the resolve to put off having said children for a long time. Oh, the day when I can open a pack of gum- no, anything, and a chorus of voices don't call out: "CAN I HAVE ONE, TOOOOOO?"

Those are just a few of the things I don't know about. Looking back at the list, I sound far too stereo-typical homeschooler. If I had a nobel prize and constantly wore floor-length jean skirts it would complete the picture. Honestly, people, i'm not that strange! Now, where did I put my new gene-splicing make-your-own clone kit?

Jellyfish is the new black,
-Hannah