Sunday Scribblings #149 -- Art

When I was in junior high, my friend, CP and I were inseparable. If she wasn't at my house, I was at hers, it seemed. This led to our plot to cheat the system and end up with the same 6th grade schedule. Since our 6th, 7th, and 8th grades consisted of different teachers for each class, we feared that we might not see each other enough at school because our schedules might differ.

It was CP who came up with the idea of signing up for art class. I didn't want to. Not that I don't like art, I'm just not that good at it. I always took too long, meticulously worrying over whatever mess of construction paper and finger paint/glue/clay/insert other grade school art material here project we were working on at the time. This was during the years of required art class. Now that I was in junior high, art was considered an elective--and one I didn't care to take.

But I acquiesed. I was far more easygoing then than I am now. I had no backbone and didn't have a clue how to say no, and especially to a friend, regardless of how manipulative she was being. So we both signed up for art and hoped for the best. Secretly, I hoped that she'd get it and I'd wind up with a full week of study hall.

That did not happen. No, dear readers, the opposite happened. I was assigned art, and she was given the full week of study hall. So every Monday, I trudged down to the art room, certain that my art grade would bring my GPA down. Of course, CP was just as upset because she actually wanted the class and couldn't have it. I don't know why the school wouldn't just let us switch, but apparently that wasn't an option. CP and I wound up with some, though not all, of the same classes (including study hall that I now only had four times a week), but we made the best of it. In fact, we had a big old time drawing hilariously stupid cartoons and being thoroughly obnoxious (as quietly as possible) while "working together" in that shared study hall.

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