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= F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. =
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Movies: My High School Yearbook
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I didn't finish high school. While my contemporaries drove
around in their parents' cars, smoking weed and waxing
mailboxes with baseball bats, I was heading up the hill at
an ungodly hour to make it to my pre-calc class in my navy
Honda. Sometimes I'd go to Denny's with them, but mostly
I hung out by myself and wondered how to fit my square self
into a round society. At the time I did not mourn the loss of the
catastrophic shopping trip with my mom to buy a prom dress.
Nor did I feel left out when my friends donned their blue
caps and gowns and switched their tassels from one side of
their drug-smogged heads to the other. Whoopie, I thought,
with even less enthusiasm than is apparent here. I didn't
even care that much when I realized I would never be invited
to a high school reunion to relive the anorexic years and
be surrounded by the so-called "popular girls", who would
likely be dejected housewives skulking around the
auditorium, bellies heavy with pregnancy #2.
I am in another square phase, so I spend a lot of time with
media. Computers, TV, video games, books, but mostly movies.
I have been reliving my high school years vicariously
through film. I figure, since i don't have any memories of
my own, why not bask in the ideals of screenwriters?
So I watched Dazed and Confused, Heathers, Wild Things,
some nameless Gen X flick about confused little boys unsure
of What To Be When They Grew Up, some other retro chick
flick featuring Rosie O'Donnell and Demi Moore called
Now & Again, and a few late night USA offerings about
The Ubiquitous Troubled Teen.
So what did I learn? Well, Dazed and Confused made me
somewhat nostalgic for the time period right around the year
of my birth. I got over that pretty quickly when I remembered
a guy in high school named Tom who was so perpetually
high that he misspelled his first name when he signed my
9th grade yearbook. Heathers is always a nice thing to
eyeball, but my experience of it has become somewhat
jaded since I discovered that Mr. Slater was jailed for
beating his girlfriend while under the influence of cocaine.
The nameless Gen X flick about the boys did nothing but
reinforce my memories of the little dorks with dicks I
went to school with. The girls were curling their hair
and doing their best Madonna imitations, making eyes
at the boys, who were running around with paper airplanes
and kicking each other. Worst of all, none of them could
get through a sentence without squeaking and popping a
zit without the aid of a mirror. Now & Again was cutesy
coming of age, so I pretended that I never saw it.
The late night USA offerings were usually right on.
Most of them even had vampires or some other creature of
the night to fuck with. That sounds about how I would
like to remember high school.
But Wild Things has to take the cake. Sex, scandal, hot
chicks like Neve Campbell floating around wearing henna
and black nail polish, crotch shots of police officers
and high school teens alike. That at least would have
been fun. It had drugs and booze, too. Best yet, the
heroine had an IQ of 200, so not only was she cute, but
she was smart, too. You gotta admire a screenwriter with
the guts to make a movie like Wild Things. Made me want
to go back to high school with bigger guts than I had
then. The downside? Even the music made me horny, so I
was in a funk for the rest of the day. I must have been
wishing I was still in high school, where all the guys
who have earned the right to be called a Guy are hot,
and the only thing I had to do all day was figure out
how I could buy smokes and booze without getting
ID'd.
Pretty far from pink prom dresses and blue caps and gowns,
but hey, we all design our own realities.
demonika
demonika@dimensional.com
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