Smarty pants...

Many moons ago, when I was in high school, I had two thoughts –

1. What am I doing here?

2. Fuck, I don’t know the answer.  

I never saw the point of high school. I never knew anything and most of my time there was trying to bunk off sport and go work at McDonalds so I could get  money to travel to the UK - or keeping a low profile so no one could ask me things like math or science questions. Religious education?  Ah no, Mum agreed I could be removed from that because I considered it a load of bollocks and there was that incidence where I may have expressed an opinion to a religious type who took it badly. Phys Ed? How is running around a school sports oval going to do anything but piss me off? Actually, I was only thinking on my morning run, this morning, that when I was 12, and playing netball at school, we had this Nazi as a coach. She was an uncaring jockette who made us run and run and frigging run. I enjoyed being last on each of her runs because I’d already worked out a shortcut and never, ever, did that bitch work out I never ran the full way. But I digress…the main point of this ramble is today someone asked me a general knowledge question about the kings and queens of the UK and I rattled them off one after the other in succession. They were amazed. How did I know this stuff? By reading books – and not history books – Jean Plaidy. Really? Yes. Remember her? By reading her stories based on the lives of the Tudors and Plantagenets etc, I learned to love history and accept textbooks.   

My point? Wanna be a smarty pants? Sometimes the road less travelled when it comes to education is the best.