Q

Talking to Celine triggered off memories of my childhood. I realize I’ve been strange and somewhat of a genius from a young age.

So now Math is over (taking my life away with it) as is International History, for stress/exhuastion relieving purposes, I’ll indulge a little by giving you a Bildungsroman you’re probably are not interested in anyway. Too late you’re trapped my words are holding a strange power over you. Read on.

Alright to begin you need a little context. I attended Rosyth Childcare in my earlier years – a relatively advanced nursery, slightly old in a posh way. What hasn’t changed is that I was cute back then. What has is that I was a lot, a lot less scary.

In fact I was the most harmless little creature you would ever come across. Pigtails and bangs and a stubborn habit of tip-toeing. Oh right, and I was VERY. VERY QUIET. Most teachers loved me because I was a silent but obedient little spazz, and also I was perpetually scared of everything which they probably found sadistically adorable.

Although it might also have been after that time my mom forced me into a BRIGHT PINK, HALF POLKA-DOTTED HALF STRIPED STRING BIKINI for swim class. It amused my teacher so much she made me parade around to show EVERY. SINGLE. CLASS. Like, literally we went outside each class and she’s laughs maniacally and says LOOK LOOK AT MY SKANKY LITTLE CHILD. This fully explains my exhibitionist tendencies now. DO NOT MAKE YOUR FIVE YEAR OLD WALK AROUND IN A STRING BIKINI. IT IS A GIVEN THAT SHE WOULD BE SCARRED, OR AT LEAST CATCH A COLD. That aside.

I was so harmless, in fact, that I became the target of bullying by this girl – whom forever I will not forget (and I mean seriously, I told myself explicitly always to remember her so when I’m grown-up and awesome I can laugh at her hundred pound weight gain and degeneration). So anyway, this girl’s name was – is – CASSANDRA. For a visual stimulant, picture an exceptionally nasty looking bulldog with a bob haircut. Yeah, you got it. That’s Cassandra.

When behind her in the morning assembly line doing the daily Macarena routine, she turned around and said in a bitchy way as a little bitch like her would: (THIS WAS MY FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH A BITCHY TONE K) Can you STOP blowing on my hair? I wasn’t. I was breathing.

SHE WANTED ME TO STOP BREATHING.

I have no idea why that one incident stuck with me, but she bullied me for the longest time possible (which I think meant about a couple of months). My mom had to come to school and point an umbrella menacingly at her to make her quit it. She didn’t.

Alright so you have to remember that I was a child with an extremely, extremely fertile imagination. It was also incredibly easy to reconcile fantasy with reality back then. The thing was I had TEN imaginary siblings (oh yeah I was sisterless back then), each having unique personalities and with whom I have vivid interaction with – ok in my fantasy but still. Whenever I got bullied by Bulldog Cassandra, I’ll be in the toilet after that telling my imaginary friends about it and pretending they can somehow right things or at least exact revenge.

YEAH OK? I WAS WEIRD.

Then my mom decided to transfer me to PAP for kindergarten, because it was convenient and Rosyth was out of the way (or maybe they heard me talking to self in the toilet one too many times and booted me out on grounds of insanity). I’m not sure how lucid five year old thoughts actually are, but mine were pretty damn articulate. I had lengthy internal monologues about how I’m to make sure I never, EVER get bullied again (and that I’d be the bully if I had to), and how I’ll entrench my dominance first straight and RULE THE ENTIRE PLACE. I know right.

Funny thing was, it worked. Partly it was because Rosyth prepared me well academically. But mainly because I was precocious and even as a kid my genius bits couldn’t help but surface. That was probably what I’d call the volta of my life, the social awakening, the maturation, my emergence from the crysalis. It was as if I suddenly understood the mechanisms of human relation and hierarchy, and also slowly recognized that I was different and special and intelligent and probably ten times better than most of the other dumb kids and a million of Dogface Cassandra.

It was pretty scary, but it was like I knew all the tricks to manipulating all the kids around me. I knew what to say or act to make them feel guilty or give in to what I wanted – and I mean I did all these consciously. Like, I KNEW doing that would make her worry or scared and I’d exploit all these nuances I gleaned to achieve my own ends. I know, I know. So through all my arm-twisting I broke the rules and allowed myself to be Lala in the Teletubbies Game even though the Club rules explicitly stated that I couldn’t be the Oldest Sister in Family Game if I were Lala.

Oh and also I used homework answers (mine were always right) as bribes for favors. Such as exchanging lunch break duty days so I get extra curry puffs (they were great) and skipped green bean soup (they were not).

Basically, throughout kindergarten I was a tyrant. Except no one knew because I did it in such subtle and implicit ways they just thought it was an obligation to make me happy.

Besides being adept at social manipulation I was also revolutionary. Currently I’m pretty intolerant of feminists because they’re usually PMSing, bra-burning, unreasonable women with shriek-y voices and un-shaved armpits, but back then I went through a phase where I was like WHY SHOULD I WEAR SKIRTS? WHY MUST I? I WANT TO WEAR PANTS LIKE BOYS ALL THE TIME. So I straight out refused to wear skirts. For about three years actually. Except for school. But I’m digressing.

After the first year, everyone pretty much got used to the idea that I’m their intellectual and emotional superior (I was), so I could relax all my scary child tac-tics. It was throughout that year that in addition to my discovery of how freaking easy it is to manipulate people, I decided that my X-Men powers of mind control can be used to serve different purposes – to be a total boss and work magic on everyone shamelessly so you’ll always have your way, or to use it for the good and only for the good of people you love.

The path I chose is obvious. RIGHT? I mean I’m totally peace-loving and benign right now.

Yeah. Mostly it was because of friends. I found friends I didn’t need to manipulate to be happy around, both in primary and secondary school. It was borne out of the need for protection and defense (from Dogface Cassandra), but I quickly found out I didn’t need it because a large majority of my circle are of people who are just NICE. I haven’t exercised my powers to gain personal benefits since, and I don’t think I can/know how. Also, right now I have no idea what point I’ve been trying to make all along.

I started because I thought some bits here and there were bound to make you think I’m freakier than I already am, which made for an excellent update post. But now I’m just revealing how much of a genius/altruistic person I am – which most people already know anyway.

Hm.