conuly

A reply to something

leora said, actually.

1. I never knew what I was doing. Sure, they'd take the time to show us one or two things we were allowed to do with the equipment - though they never gave us enough time to practice - and they'd kinda give us the objective of the game... but they never explained the rules, or anything like that. And everyone else always seemed to know what positions there were, or... stuff. Annoying, annoying, annoying.

2. I strongly dislike objects flying towards my face. I literally cower in fear. Fun!

3. Occasionally, people would get it into their heads that I should participate. (I was perfectly happy on those days when we went outside and I could just walk quickly around the track several times, but no, solo movement just isn't good enough!) Usually, those people were teachers. They'd see that I was rotating out of volleyball just as fast as my little feet could carry me, and assume I was being excluded by the other people. Occasionally, a few other students would decide that they should be nice, and not exclude me. Grr. I wanted to be excluded from as many sports as possible! Daily, I thought "gee, I hope everybody ignores me and lets me NOT PLAY ANOTHER STUPID GAME with them!"

Ah, they meant well. They were just FUCKING UP MY LIFE with their good intentions.

4. I hate noise. I really do. Gymnasiums magnify sound. And people scream. Urg.

5. Despite the fact that I hate noise, I rely on my sense of hearing a lot for such things as "navigation", "avoiding traffic", and "knowing when I'm about to be attacked by a vicious spherical object". Not sure why, my eyesight isn't that bad.

Try doing this in a room with a lot of LOUD noises, a lot of very chaotic activity, and the echo effect. It was like being in hell. It was hell! I had no way of knowing if I was about to die! And yes, that is what it felt like. (And people wondered why I didn't mind going outside in gymshorts in 40 degree weather.)

6. I'm far too lazy to shave my legs. Apparently, this has caused people to faint from the shock and scandal. Oh, the horror!

7. I have truly abysmal coordination. Can't jump rope, can't always catch a ball, can't always throw a ball where I want it to go - either I missaim, or I overshoot, or I undershoot. Why the hell are people preoccupied with the notion that activity == sports? Why can't we, say, have had a dance class, or martial arts (fencing, yay!), or lifted weights or something? That would certainly have involved less standing around than kickball. And less competitive is good, really. The goal of gym isn't to indoctrinate children into the competitive American culture, it's to teach them to lead active, healthy lives.

8. Oh, and the people. If, by some strange chance, I did something right in gym class, one of the self-proclaimed nice people (I think they all had guilty consciences or something) would go up to me and try to give me a high five. WHY? This always ended with failure as I stared at them in complete noncomprehension for several seconds. And, really, I didn't want to touch them anyway. I was in this room of torture, with LOUDLOUDLOUD, and they were responsible for that godawful noise, the last thing I wanted to do was to deal with any people.

Yes, I know, they meant well. I just really wish they could've meant well somewhere else. Or possibly when I actually would have liked a little bit of meaning well. Like when I was reading, and people came up to... wait, no, those people meant well too. They couldn't know that asking me if I liked to read was going to make the blood boil up in my eyes as I contemplated telling them what I thought of that asinine question....

Um...

I've grown up a lot since then. Really. Honest!