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As many of you have already admitted, I WAS the crazy kid. I apparently had some incredible anger management issues, which--put on top of my social anxieties and need for constant creativity--awesomely exploded various times. I was well-known as a violent kid; one day I was sent to the office for hitting Lindsay, and when I came back, I hit her again. Upon returning from THAT trip to the office, I sat down, turned to her, and hit her again. I was sent home.Now, my memory is a shady one, so my incidents are sort of low in detail and high in speculation and feeling. During my elementary school years, my friend Geoff and I were popular for making comics and designing games, and passing them around the room. Apparently, despite the crappiness of the drawings, they were looked at in reverence and awe. One time, in a class in third grade, I was working furiously at one of these comics. My teacher, a woman I hated incredibly because anyone in our class was smarter than her, told me to stop. Repeatedly.I got upset when she took my paper, told me I could get it back AT THE END OF THE WEEK, then--this was the final straw--FOLDED the paper. She folded my artwork, upon which I had laboured with pen and ink for a whole two days. So, I loudly protested. She told me to sit quietly. At this point, hot tears stung my eyes because I was crazy emotional. I could feel the pit of my stomach knot up, then punch my brain a few times, until I thought it would make sense to screech loudly and push the desk over.When she threatened me with sending me to the office, I came out with one of the oddest things I've ever done or said, in my opinion: In a high falsetto, I said "Well then," choking back tears, "why don't I act like a little angel and fly all around?" And I crossed my arms, and flapped my hands, and pranced in little circles like a diminutive cherub.She dropped the hammer with one of the oddest punishments to which I have ever been subjected. She handed me a half a set of junior encyclopędię, and made me stand in the coat closet, holding them, until the day was over. Two hours of standing there with heavy books in my arms.That was the ODDEST of my anger management issues. I have a history, though. I chipped a kid's tooth in preschool with a giant block. I tied a girl to a tree in second grade. I planned and carried out a full-scale military campaign over several years on the playground. And my crowning achievement, kicking a senior in the nuts when I was a sixth grader, warranting a severe choking. In response to the choking, I hocked a loogie into his face, and ran away.Ahhh, school.
