Monday, March 20, 2017

Please Stop

This may come as a shock to you, Reader, but not everything I post on this clearly labeled satire blog is completely true. I promise it’s all inspired by true events, but I do happen to have a relentless flair for the dramatic that I just can’t kick. My tendency to exaggerate however, I think is forgivable in exchange for your entertainment. What I am about to tell you now, however, is a true story. No exaggeration. No extra details. Just unsightly, nauseating high school reality.  
Not too long ago while dragging my feet down the LHS halls on my way to AP Statistics, I was suddenly frozen in my tracks. There, not more than a few feet from where I was standing, were two of my fellow students, a guy and a girl. And he was attacking her. Upon observing their frantic movement and breathless struggle, I obviously rushed over to save the day.
And then I stopped and ran in the other direction.
What I had mistaken for aggression had turned out to be... affection?
There was no attack. They were making out.
Now why did I share this with you, if not perhaps to make you throw up in your mouth a little bit? This blog post is a request. A plea.
I call to you, couples of LHS. I implore you romantic entanglements, you “friends with benefits,” you “it’s complicated-s,” and you freshman boys who aren’t mature enough to call what you have with that girl in your math class a relationship yet (you text her every night and you’ve met her whole family but yeah sure, it’s not serious).
I beg you.
PLEASE STOP.
Oh, I must not realize how panel after panel of beige lockers set the mood. I must not be aware of how romantic the hallway music can be. I must not know how irresistible your significant other looks under fluorescent lighting. I must not understand what an incomparable aphrodisiac the smell of the LHS halls is. But still, I find it very very hard to believe that it just can’t wait.
So please. Stop. Please stop. Please. Please. Stop. Please. Please stop.

Signed, with the amount of affection appropriate for a public setting,

Anna DeNoia

Friday, February 24, 2017

BREAKING NEWS

Although February 22nd may have just been an average day for the rest of the community, on this day, Libertyville High School Sophomore Stu Dent’s world was shaken. Since August, Dent has passed hour after hour staring at the dark spot just between the light switch and the “You Can Count on Math!” poster on his Algebra classroom wall. When asked why in a highly emotional interview, Dent replied that the spot was “something to look at, I guess.”
After developing such sentimentality for this wall spot over the past semester, Dent was obviously shocked when he sat down at his desk and realized something was different. “I guess I’d say the spot used to be kind of a green-brown” Dent shared, clearly disturbed. “But now it’s got a kind of reddish tint to it? I don’t know… can I go back to lunch now?”
When other students of the 7th period Algebra class were questioned about their reactions to this dramatic change, answers varied from “What spot?” to “I don’t know I never really noticed it” to even “Do you really not have anything more exciting to report about?”, making it obvious how deeply disturbed they have been by this radical change to the classroom environment.
Libertyville High School administration has been contacted. They promised to follow up on the issue if it was really causing students such distress, but noted that it was “..really not the type of thing we care too much about. Please stop emailing us.”
More details on this story as it develops.

Wednesday, December 28, 2016

The Five Stages of Taking a Final

AT THE START OF THE PERIOD-- DENIAL:  Alright, I’ve got this. Maybe I didn’t study quite as much as I should have, but I know this stuff! This class is a breeze, bring it on.


FIVE MINUTES IN-- ANGER: OH NO OH NO I DON'T KNOW ANY OF THIS I DON'T REMEMBER ONE SINGLE THING FROM THIS ENTIRE SEMESTER I HATE THIS TEST I HATE THIS CLASS I HATE THE KID NEXT TO ME WHO WON’T STOP UNDERLINING THINGS KEVIN I SWEAR I WILL GO OVER THERE AND STICK YOUR TICONDEROGA SO FAR UP YOUR NOSE IT’LL JUST READ “-OGA” TRY ME.


30 MINUTES IN-- BARGAINING: Please God send me a sign. Show me the way. I will do anything. I’ll actually start studying for this stuff! I’ll be nice to Kevin! What is the price of deliverance from this hell? Send me a sign! Well, my tear just fell nearest to the “C” answer… is that a sign? IS IT???


ONE HOUR IN-- DEPRESSION: This is it. My last moments as a member of respected society. I can feel it. When my family sees these grades they’ll disown me. I’ll be on the street. I’ll crawl down the road, too lowly to walk while the passers-by laugh at me. “Look!” they’ll say. “There she goes! The kid who completely failed her finals! What a hilarious disappointment.” Mothers will point me out to their children as a precautionary tale. I have no future beyond this scantron. This final is my sad, broken legacy. Infamy. A warning to kids who will proceed me. “Listen” they’ll whisper to each other. “On the day of your finals it is said you can hear her voice on the wind, in hushed tones imploring-- ‘study’”.

TURNING IT IN-- ACCEPTANCE: You know, this really isn’t that bad. When I’m living on the street, I’ll never have to take another final again!

Tuesday, November 22, 2016

'Tis the Season to be Tardy: The Difficulties of Getting to LHS in the Wintertime

It’s the most wonderful time of the year. Just ask that kid who’s been humming Christmas carols under his breathe for the past few months (No Kevin from 7th period, it’s NOT beginning to look a lot like Christmas, it’s September and you’re annoying). However, with the holiday season comes something a little less wonderful, and I’m not talking about that 20th cover album of Christmas songs no one asked for. I’m talking about the weather. And no matter the ice, snow, and wind, you still have to get to school-- the question is, how? And since I doubt the administration would grant you a parking sticker for your one-horse open sleigh, here is a list, from best to worst, of ways to get to LHS in the winter.

  1. Being Dropped Off: If you have a parent or sibling or mother's friend or weird uncle or anyone at all who is willing to pull up to the school doors and drop you off in the morning, make it happen. The smug satisfaction off sliding of the heated seats of your mom’s minivan just outside the school doors while student icicles shiver around you is akin to divinity.
  2. The Parking Pass: Next to the lucky little sons-of-wishes who get dropped off, the best commuting option in the wintertime is parking on the school lot. Unfortunately, the blessing of proximity when it comes to parking at LHS is very limited. Provided you secure a spot at all, the snowy sprint from car to doors can be harrowing. And if soaking your shoes in the wet grey slush and playing frogger in the dark of the early winter morning wasn’t bad enough, watching Kevin from 7th period complain about the heat not being on high enough as he steps out of his dad’s Sedan 5 feet from the school entrance is enough to make your frozen blood boil.
  3. The Trudge from Brainard: There are two types of LHS students-- those who have walked from Brainard in the winter and those who have not. The distinction is obvious-- veterans of the Trudge smile a little less. Their eyes are not quite as bright, and the reason why is clear. As you push slowly against the unforgiving winter wind something breaks within you. You have no past, no future. No friends no family. No goals or ambitions besides the will to move one foot in front of the other. Nothing exists but you, the pavement, and Mother Nature, who quite clearly hates you.
  4. The School Bus: I have long been fascinated by the unique ecosystem that develops on a highschool bus. From the peaceful, inexplicable coexistence of the kid screaming in the back while his seatmate slumbers beside him, to the fact that someone always seems to be spilling something, it is a setup not found anywhere else in nature. However, in the winter it is not the inside of the bus that’s the problem, it’s waiting for the bus to arrive. I have vivid memories literally frozen in my mind of standing out in in the cold and snow waiting, praying for the big yellow mercenary to carry me to salvation.
  5. Walking: Oh you dear poor soul. I’m praying for you

However it is you’re planning on dragging yourself through the doors of LHS this winter, the important thing is to stay safe. Bundle up, look both ways, keep your head up in the parking lot, and have yourself a happy, healthy holiday season. Except for you, Kevin from 7th period. You’re the worst.

Monday, November 21, 2016

Dear Reader...

Hello, Reader! Thanks for checking out my blog! My name is Anna: I really love soft pretzels, I believe erasable pen is an evil, misleading oxymoron, and as you'll soon realize, I'm far too sarcastic. To stop all that sarcasm from bubbling over into what should be pleasant personal interactions in my day-to-day life, as well as of course for your reading pleasure, I've begun this humor blog. But that's not the only reason.

Shortly after I pitched my idea for this blog, I found myself feeling guilty. This style of writing is what I love to do, however as I watched my fellow Drops of Ink staff members tackling hard-hitting stories like racism and sexual assault (and doing a fantastic job, I'll add -- check out the December Issue), I began to wonder, is this style of writing really what I should be doing?

In today's world, with tensions growing higher and higher and tempers growing shorter and shorter, it is impossible to deny the important role journalism has to play. It is the responsibility of journalists like me and the others on the Drops of Ink staff to expose the truth as well as identify those who are perpetuating lies.

However, it is easy to lose ourselves in all the mud and dirt that comes with digging for truth, and it's so easy to forget that there is anything else. It's easy to lose our ability to laugh. Our world is flawed, our world is tumultuous, but our world is also funny. That is true and that is something we cannot forget. Our social consciousness does not have to come at the expense of our sense of humor.

So take a break! Read my stupid blog. Because, sure, it's stupid. I know it's stupid. But it is funny. Well, at least I think it's funny. And I hope you do to. Because I might not be able to change your mind. I might not be able to convince you of what's wrong or right.  But you know what I can do?

I can make you laugh.