Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Escaping my hiding place - Chapter ten


“The first step to improving your life - is the decision to change!

Nothing great ever just happens”

My first step in putting this criminally insane master plan into action was to look up every night school, every day school, every college and University in my accessible area and order subject catalogues. There was no way I was going to make the same mistake I made the first time I went and do horribly boring subjects. I was going to choose this purely on what interested me, and which classes I thought would have the highest ratio of girls to boys.

I ruled out all the business school courses straight away, too boring. All the science courses went next, too technical. I threw out things like drama (don’t think I need to explain why on that one). The IT industry went next, I didn’t even know how to turn on a computer.

So I continued to sort though them, and continued to rule out course after course which I was either way too stupid, well not stupid, just unqualified for, and class after class that I was just too scared to do for various self conscience reasons, until finally I found myself holding a booklet from my old university in the school of visual arts. Art! I had never really thought of art as a career before. Art to me at school was mostly doing doodles to stop myself from falling asleep in math’s class.

I actually really enjoyed doing doodles while I was at school, and was actually not bad at them. I could do some very close copies of numerous cartoon characters like transformers and smurfs. But I drew all sorts of things houses, people, penises, still life.

I was reminded of a time in school when I got in huge trouble one day for my approach to a particular assignment we had been set for the day. I am not sure what the assignment was on, but I remember that we were supposed to put a big heading at the top of the page about what we were writing about. Unfortunately by the time the teacher said “pencils down everyone, and pass your work to the front!” I was still working on my heading. Not because I was so stupid that I couldn’t write a heading, as some of you may be thinking, but because I had been doing it over and over again in all sorts of different ways, with letters slanting, with patterns, with other symbols which represented the letters. I just got lost in it.

However when the teacher saw it she wasn’t as impressed with my artistry as I was. Instead she yelled “JASON PAULINE DOMEY (have I told you yet I had a girls middle name – my parents thought I was going to be a girl and couldn’t give up the name - see people have been screwing me since birth) ARE YOU SERIOUSLY GOING TO TELL ME YOU HAVE SAT THERE FOR THREE HOURS AND NOT EVEN STARTED AND NOT ASKED ONE QUESTION!”

“Sor” I nearly got out


“Well ummmm”


“No miss”


“Yes miss”

With that I plodded my way to the principles office and reluctantly went in and explained myself. The principle responded much the same way as my teacher. I copped a long lecture about wasting my time, and the teacher’s time, and the other student’s time, and my parent’s time, and his time and about forty other useless tid bits of crap.

Don’t teachers realize that they need to nurture and encourage student’s interests, even if it affects their other work occasionally? That’s how to make kids to not hate school! I just made a mental note to look up that teacher and throw a brick through her window! “IS THAT A GOOD ENOUGH EXPLANATION BITCH?”

So the school of visual arts it was going to be. I felt really comfortable with that decision from the start. Not only was it an area that I actually had some interest in, but surely the art world would be filled with cute young girls. I might have still been way, way too shy to talk to them but I could definitely perve. Maybe that would inspire me. The female body is gods greatest ever art work after all!

Unfortunately this decision posed one massive problem. Out of about a hundred course booklets sprawled out across my floor, the single one I had decided upon was possibly impossible. I had flunked out of that university. They weren’t going to let me back after my half hearted completely fucked effort the first time around.

However going by my new rule that I had to decide what I wanted and do it no matter how hard it was; I decided that I must still make an attempt. I decided the most likely way they would let me back in would be to write them a letter explaining how the first time I was there without wanting to be, but this time I was there because I wanted to make something of myself. And hope that I could convey enough passion to woo their hearts into granting me restitution in their institution.

So I sat down and wrote my most passionate letter ever. Then I rewrote it. Then I rewrote it. Then I rewrote it. Then I rewrote it. Then I was basically happy with it. So I rewrote it two more times, and then was finally ready to send it.

Unfortunately I had no idea who to send it to. So I went down to my local Kinko’s and made a hundred copies of it. Then I went over to the university and stuck it under every single office door I could find on the campus. I didn’t care what the door said, chancellor, chief financial officer, or school nurse. Then I sat by the letter box waiting for a reply.

Day one - nothing, day two - nothing, day three - nothing, day four - nothing (although I did eat an excellent pepperoni pizza that day), day five - nothing, day six - nothing, day seven - nothing (I’m still not sure why I checked the box on Sunday), day eight - one letter with the university letter head!

I opened it up and read inside.

Dear Mr Domey,

I am writing in response to your many letters, posted to numerous staff members, in relation to your desire to re-enroll in our University. I regret to inform you that unfortunately at the point a student fails out of this institution he or she is no longer able to participate in any further classes to be held by our professors.

However, should you ever choose to read the forms which were supplied to you at the time of your initial enrolment, you may be interested to note on page two, appendix III, it states “a student shall be deemed to have failed out of his or her chosen course at such time that he or she receives a failing grade in a total of eight subjects over any three year period’. Having reviewed your academic record from your first semester with us, I have noticed that you only enrolled in four subjects, four of which you failed. Thus you still have four more subjects with which to fail before you have indeed failed out of this university.

Therefore I am able to inform you that you are most welcome to enroll in any of your desired classes from the school of visual arts for the next semester starting on February 27.

I am not quite sure what to make of you Mr Domey. On one hand I admire your tenacity in sending your many, many letters. Although I question your intelligence having not bothered to even check whether you had flunked out, and having sent one of your letters to the janitor!

I do hope your commitment to your studies is far greater on your second journey into higher learning, and will watch your results with great interest.


Norman Johnston

Head of admissions

BACK TO UNIVERITY! Oh my fucking god. Didn’t I remember how god damn happy I was to be gone from that place. The introducing yourself! The speeches! Class participation! Group assignments! Bullies! Teasing! Social situations! Study! Lectures! Tutorials! Professors! Had I gone completely insane! How did I come up with this fucking life plan! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

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