Monday, July 11, 2005

In the End...

Well, this is the end, fellows. This will be the last ever post on the Tales of 2005. I can't say I have much left as I put all of the old stories on Old Fun on past posts, so I've ran out of ammo (check the blue in most entries... those are perhaps the best moments of the Class of 2005). But I do have one left, and since we are finished with school and I will probably not see anyone again, then well, I'm going to make fun of myself. And no, it's not Maracaibo, that's already been accounted for in Old Fun.

Okay, so this was in junior year. I stayed over Tiny's place with Rodrigo, Eduardo and Calabria, I believe. I'm not sure who was there, but Eduardo was for sure (no kidding...). So we had a few Soleras in the fridge and a couple of movies lying around, so we started drinking while watching the movies. We made a mistake, though. We were all drinking at Calabria's pace, and I know that I wasn't tolerant enough to do that... so I had 5 soleras (verdes) almost back to back to back to back to back... and it really hit me hard. I think that was my first borrachera (hey, my tolerance was low then) and I got a bit dizzy and very sleepy. So well, I fall asleep and wake up the next day early because I had to go to community service. So I manage to wake up with my first ever hangover and I see that everyone else is asleep and I have to get to school. So well, it isn't that bad, Tiny lives relatively close to school. So I get changed (I think... I might not have...) and start walking towards the school. So I'm walking on a street that has no sidewalks, so I'm walking to the side of the road, not knowing what's gonna happen to me. And no, I didn't get raped. Well, I hear this car honk at me, but unlike the others it actually slows down until it comes to a rest right next to me. Then it comes "Hey, James, hop on, I'll give you a ride." Now who do you think it was? Yep, it was my Health teacher, Mr. Briggs. What are the odds? So I hop on, smelling all like alcohol and endure the two minute trip. I tried to speak the least I could so he wouldn't smell my breath, and I think I got away with it. That's what I think, anyway... he might've known and didn't say anything (like that Maracaibo incident...).

Well, so we go to the park with the little kids and I just sit around, trying to ignore them all and trying not to yell at them for bothering me (hangover + kids is not a good mix). So that was perhaps the most unproductive community service ever... not to mention the longest.


Well that was the last story to be told on this blog. Thank you for reading. The 14 years of CIC have been a great experience, as you can see. Lots of weird shit going on. I'd like to thank all the people that have made this possible (most notably Tiny and Rodrigo) and all my friends for their support all these years.


Take care everyone,


James
The Insider

Sunday, July 10, 2005

A Tribute to: Damasio

Well, I'm done with the teachers, but I thought I'd dedicate a whole entry to Mr. Damasio just because of making us laugh so much. Although there have been other teachers that we will remember, Mr. Damasio will always be remembered for his peculiar way of speaking. He's a good man, don't get me wrong, but he's funny as hell.

Most of the things he's said, I haven't been around to listen to them personally as most of them have occured in soccer practice or in soccer games (and although I kick ass at soccer, I don't play in the team to give the other kids a chance... ).

I was going to write a paragraph with each saying to explain them, but I tried and it just takes the humour out of the things he said, so I'm just going to list them with a brief explanation.


-"Don't fart in your rooms" (presumably trying to say "don't party in your rooms")

-"There is no heroe in this team, you're all heroes" (talking to the VANAS boy's All-Star team)

-"one-zero is the same as one hundred-zero" (just the same as skipping is the same as running, right?)

-"you know, you guys, if you're winning, you have to act... like actors. take time, don't run..." (so South American...)

-"Marcella Heemsen: ten goals. Swimming pool: one goal" (no clue)

-"Jorge is very skilly" (I bet he is)

-"grass is tall" (yeah, it's going through puberty)

-"the goalie is triple scared than you are"


And that's the only saying I have to say.

Saturday, July 09, 2005

Teaching Memories

Well, my faithful reader , as you know we've graduated now (all of us, actually... against all odds) therefore there will be no more tales of 2005 (see, we're not together anymore... YAY!). However, there are loads of untold tales, so there's enough material for a couple of more entries... and I gave in to pressure of friends (and the idea that I might actually use my free time (ie. all my vacation time) for something useful) so well, here goes. This post is dedicated to things our teachers have said and done, which means this will perhaps the funniest entry ever (for the exception of Tiny's...).

I've got to start somewhere, so I'll start with my favorite teacher... Mme Sedek. She made my life a living hell during French. I'm not being paranoid, ask any of my classmates, she would skip me, pick on me, down grade me... the list goes on. This is why I'm going to enjoy making fun of her. What are the nicknames for Marie France Sedek?
Isn't it just odd that this French woman's middle name is France? What if we went around naming kids after the country they're born in? Now there's a way to brutally slaughter your kid's sanity. Anyway, one of our favorite nicknames is the Pink Panther, because of the way she walks into the classroom, all quiet and... uhm, how do you explain this... Pink Pantherish. She should stop dressing like Ozzy Osbourne and start dressing more in pink like Ercole to fulfill her destiny. Another nickname for this adorable lady, closer to her wardrope and character, is Pepe Le Pew. Just for the simple reason that he's French. However, instead of prancing around France looking for love she sits at her desk here in Valencia looking for ways of screwing James over. My favorite French class (well, second to the time that she didn't show up at all): that day in June 2002 when Senegal beat France in the World Cup. We had finished watching the game during computer class with Mr. Ferrell (that's how productive we were) and we were all shocked to see that France had lost to such a... uhm... small team (to put it that way). Nonetheless we were delighted. We practically ran to the French classroom (where we ironically had class next) and started writing on the board things like "la-bas la France!" or just simply "France sucks!". Mme Sedek took it pretty well, very gracefully, but I bet deep inside her French heart was suffering, which is good enough for me.

Moving on to the famous Mr. Demonte (or Demente?). He was our sixth grade science teacher, and he was whack. He was also old. And it was during his class the only time in my life that I've cheated (and got caught, stupid me...), but that's not something I'd like to discuss... I'd rather make fun of the old guy. Anyway, he's known for these types of cars we were building towards the end of the year (or beginning? no clue). When he was going to tell us the essential component of the car, he practically closed all the windows, pulled the curtains down, locked the door, looked under the desks to check that there were no umpa lumpas overhearing, adjusted his glasses, combed his hair with his hands, fiddled with is moustache, shook the collar of his shirt back and fourth, looked around for one last time for the MLB people, and then finally revealed the component to us by placing his hand vertically next to his opposite cheek and whispering: "shoebox." I sort of exaggerated, but it was hilarious! To be fair, from the middle to the end, it's all pretty much true, although the first part could be true aswell, I don't remember very well... thankfully. BUT, he's also known for something else. We were working on this big model airplane, made of wood or something. We worked for an entire semester on this airplane that was supposed to teach us about...erm...something and well, we finally completed it. Got the engine off some catalogue (see, Ebay wasn't famous yet) and well, it was ready to go. So we went out to the upper field to try it out. Now, Mr. Demonte had to fly it first, because you know, a pro should do it first so that it's not crashed in the first attempt, and that way more people in the class will get to fly it. So the plane's there on the ground, it takes off under Mr. Demonte's guidence, travels around fifteen centimentres, and hits the ground, totally wrecking the model. So much for professionalism, eh? I wonder what he's doing now... wrecking some other kids' dreams? Or perhaps starting his own rat-trap powered cars competition (shoebox car)...

Liebertz... well, aside from the fact that he dressed the same every day for two years, there's not much to say about Liebertz... he's a good guy. That's why we taped all his stuff to the roof and the fan one morning before US History last year.

Now we move on to one of my favorite teachers... Mr. Behrsing! I don't think I'll be able to write about everything he did because we were young, and perhaps we didn't understand everything he said... it's a shame we couldn't have him for senior English... we didn't do anything anyway. Mr. Behrsing is best known for being cruel... to anyone. Once he asked this woman who had just had plastic surgery "does you face hurt?". He was also mean to the class, of course, asking the same question to the class and then yelling out "well, it's hurting me!!!". He also once threw a paper ball up in the air for Alejandra to catch. When she was looking up to catch it he threw another paper ball straight to her, hitting her on the face. but that's not all, he was also a bit nutty... once during class the alarm of some car went off in the parking lot. Mr. Behrsing frustrated from trying to teach us ignorant people about English, just went outside to the balcony and yelled off the top of his lungs "SHUT UP!!!". He had no clue who's car it was, but I can assure you that it didn't auto-start again. So craziness overrules saneness. Mr. Behrsing is also known for messing with Mr. Marcum. You see, Mr. Marcum was this short math teacher who was very enthusiastic about the subject... VERY enthusiastic. Oh, for those of you who don't know, he's back for next year to teach Calculus... lucky Calculus bastards. Anyhow, Mr. Marcum's classroom was directly below Mr. Behrsing's, so once in a while (that would be once in a while every day) Mr. Berhsing would grab one of the golf balls that he kept in his desk and just bounce it. When we asked him if that didn't bother Mr. Marcum downstairs, he'd say "well, what's he gonna do? is he gonna come up here and punch my kneecap?". It's a good thing he's living in a house now... could you imagine having someone like that living above you? But I remember Mr. Berhsing for something else. It was this very inspirational speech he gave us once. He was teaching us about spontaneous speaches, and we asked him to make one. He picked out a slip of paper from the hat, and got "pets." So well, he starts out, and then this was his incredible finish: "so as you see, people should have pets that fit their personalities. For example, people with strong personalities, like Marcella, should have a pet like a lion or a tiger. On the otherhand, people like Tiny should have dead ducks" and the class just burst out in laughter. I'm laughing now as I type this. That is perhaps the best speech I've heard--albeit the cruelest--and definitely one of the few that I'll remember when I'm 88 years old (that's my life expectancy). We were really sad when he left, we thought we were never going to have worthy entertainment again. Although this turned out to be partially true, there was one person who didn't miss Mr. Berhsing at all. Daniel points out that he should've gotten a refund for that year because he spent the majority of English class outside or witnessing his papers being ripped. (Now that I come to think of it, there were two people that didn't miss him at all. Eddie was the other one... he couldn't get an A with Berhsing, but with his future teachers he would). So, while we all cried "Shane... don't go!!" those two were throwing a Nintendo party (well, it WAS 8th grade...).

There's so much I could write about Briggs... I'll try to keep it short, though. But he was definitely one of the teachers that stood out the most. Not because of his moustache (that he's had for over 30 years) but because of the things he said. He wasn't very politically correct, asking people (not really asking, more like telling them) "what'r'u ret'a'dd!?" (what are you retarded). When I pointed out once that that was politically incorrect, he responded with "what'r'u ret'a'dd!?". Everyone in school has heard that at least once in their lifetime... so does that mean we used to go to a special school? He's also insulted our intelligence with "you're as bright as a one watt lightbulb" and he's asked Tiny "what'd ye go to a gay gym?" (what, do you go to a gay gym) when Tiny told him that he did his pushups on his knees at gym. Maybe Briggs was right for once... and he's also questioned Tiny's experience of the world: once when Tiny said something stupid (what a stupid thing to say...) by saying "what'd you live in a barn?". There's always his characteristic "JEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZZZZZZZUUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZZ!!!" whenever he got pissed off while coaching sports. Briggs is also known for things he's done, not only said. For example, there's the classic example of not knowing much Spanish even though he'd been in Venezuela for over 20 years. Once while we were doing something at the gym he turns around and yells to an obrero "mira, co-mo esta el chi-chi-chi?" referring to the water sprinkler. We'd bother him forever with that. He also used to punch us, knuckle us, or do something to us whenever he was pissed off... but once coming back from a Maracaibo softball trip (this was a long time ago... say 5 years ago?) he sat on Sebastian's head (he was this kid with a big mellon head) because... I don't know, probably for no reason at all. Also at Maracaibo, but more recently (two years ago) he broke down when Omar was caught out at third (him being the tieing run and therefore the chance to avoid a sweep) with two outs to end the game whilst gracefully skipping from second. He just exploded with his "JEEEZZZEEEZZZ!" and almost broke his board... if he didn't. Then he claimed he wasn't mad. He's also known for being a Tony Robbins enthusiast... listening to the guy all the time. He tried to influence us, but well, he quite couldn't. He said he listened to the guy (on tape, of course) while driving to school, from school... he probably listened to him on his walkman while climbing the mountain! In the shower, too... Moving on. To quote Jerry Seinfeld, there are two types of favours, the small one and the big one. You can tell which one it is depending on the pause after first asking for the favour. But there's no telling with Briggs. He'd come to me and say "can I ask you for a small favour? could you run down to my office and get...?" and let me tell you, that's not a small favour. His office was practically on the other side of the campus. There's also this anecdote (I swear it's true) during PE when we were playing softball. I was the catcher, and the ball was thrown to me from the outfield to get this guy out... but the throw was too late (or bad...) and I just went forward to get the ball and try to throw another guy out at second... so I throw the ball, pretty much as fast as I can, but it doesn't quite get to second... because it found Mr. Briggs' head in the way! So he goes down with a murdurous "bang" and Eddie approches him to make sure he's alright... so he snaps and tells him "you never abandon a game of softball! you finish the play and then you check!! Give me a lap!!!" and Eddie had to run for being nice... I told you Briggs was one of those teachers that stood out...

Mr. Leonard's pre-calculus class was something else. You'll never have a class like that. What was the class all about? It was about finding as many different ways as you could to try and kill Leonard. Going from medieval to futuristic, we found billions of ways to kill him, but there was no better way than the good old gun. In Leonard's class we also mocked Rasmuson, especially Eddie and Guillermo C. with Mr. Rasmuson's radio show. It would open with some classical music (I forget the name of that piece!!) and then the listeners would be greeted with a characteristic "Good morning, Ethiopia!!" and then he would carry on discussing books and all... then people would phone in with comments like "you suck!". I don't remember all the details, but they were hilarious. I can't believe I actually passed that class... I can't believe I passed that class with a B! If you'd like to know more about Good Morning Ethiopia, visit the official website or contact Eddie. Website: www.goodmorningethiopia.com

I should probably mention that Daniel made Ms. Stigelmayer cry in class by making fun of her and her gas station anecdotes. She stormed out of the room with tears in here eyes, and I'll tell you, they weren't from laughing. Nice, Danny!

Mr. Zink is known for tons of things, most of them good. From the fishing sound he always made at Annie for trying to fish answers out of him (and every teacher, if we get to that) to the whining song... I don't remember how it went, unfortunately, but it was quite a song.

There was a missunderstanding in Economics class last semester. We were talking about something totally not relevant (as usual) and then Mr. Rugg says "the music teacher was walking with her baby and..." and we ALL interrupted "what!? baby!?" and he's like "yeah... baby..." and we're all puzzled, naturally, since the music teacher we know, Ms. de Vries, is like 94 years old. You can't imagine a woman that old with a BABY... and you definitely can't understand how a woman that old could get some. But well, after some turmoil, it was revealed that there's another music teacher, younger than de Vries (well, everyone in school is younger than her) who has a baby... lucky for that baby and for society. Also staying with de Vries, one of my favourite moments last year (senior year... I don't know how I should referr to that as I'm already done... is it "this year" or "last year"?) was during a peprally when the girls were playing softball against the teacher in the secondary basketball court. First Mme Sedek came up to bat and stood right on the plate... had to be French. 70 years in Venezuela, in an American school and she still doesn't know how to stand. I was surprised she hit the ball, to be honest. Then up next comes de Vries, hits the ball and then starts running to first (not to third like Jorge) and then midway she dives! Oh, wait, she fell! LOLOLOL!!! Just like a sack of potatoes (I know, cliche, but it's true.. I didn't know why they said that until that incident). She practically bounced onto her back... it was hilarious. So you're probably wondering why I'm so mean, well, I have my reason... she wrecked one of my... uhm... escapades. But well, that teaches you a couple of things... French people can't play softball (or anything) and old people shouldn't dive... and if they're going to they should at least do it close to the base, not midway.

How could we all forget Carlos, Rodrigo and Daniel mambo-dancing for Ms. White during study hall during the first semester? Ms. White turned away, but I'm sure she liked it... for reasons I can't say on a public blog. But well, they're legal now, Ms. White, go and get them! Oh, and there was the time when we all sang Beautiful Day and Elevation to Ms. Ostermiller during study hall... she was RED! I think I've said that before in the blog... look it up for more details.

And I'm going to close with Olivas. He had this small turkey that he named "pavita"... and was later renamed by the Environmental Science class (that's us) to "Nipple." Why? No clue... just Nipple. So we'd go around asking him "hey, how's Nipple?" and people would just stare. Had to be us... oh, and just a little correction for Mr. Olivas (I'm not making fun of you... Rod is): it's clipboard, not "clitboard."