The pick-me-up movie of the week – High School Musical 3.
It was amusing to note that our once virginal Zac and Vanessa are now grownups – biceps, armpit hair, the works. Disney probably realised they couldn’t cast them in HSM forever, and “Uni Freshman Year” wouldn’t work too well as a musical (coz poor Zac will get typecast as a basketball playing fag and beaten in the locker rooms). So the plot goes that they graduate High School and Fall in love. Whatever.
The post-movie discussion led to a realisation – our lives are a high school. As Meridith from rival tween movie (Bratz, the movie) said, “there are 48 distinct cliques in this school. The jocks, the skaters, the nerds, the pimple jocks. The loners etc”. How true her 16-year-old insight was.
While I’ve always attempted to be a jock, the hot sports guy with fewer braincells than the average potato, with rippling torso, perfect hair, clothes that always look deliberately dishevelled. the guy who always gets the girl. The sad truth is that i’m the nerd prefect. You know, the one who was severely unpopular in Secondary 2, so form teacher makes you a prefect so you’d gain some respect, give some guidance, and take down the bad guys? Yeah… That didn’t happen.
The prefects wear the tie, and have the black book – “Jason was running in the corridor. James was late for school on 16 June” – People hate the prefects. They get outcast at lunches coz no one can talk with them around. So the prefects hang out with other prefects, and talk about prefect things.
Technically, when prefects speak, students should listen. Riiight. Only the head prefect listens. Then he tries to do something, and nothing comes out of it. Because the head prefect is not the principal. So the Cheerleader rebellion, the Skaters vandalizing the retaining walls, the choirboys bonking each other in the toilets are problems that will never be solved. Eventually it will go away right? It’s like when you know you have to take a shit, but you hold it in till you forget that you needed a shit in the first place.
What you don’t realize is that the poop has stayed in your body, and is slowly diffusing to infuse brown toxins into your bloodstream, taking you one step closer to being a toxic dump.
So the prefects gather and voice their concerns to each other. More to get it off their chests, than to solve anything, because they know it’s out of their control.
Our lives are a high school. Mine has its own soundtrack, making it closer to a musical really. Bad lyrics and cheezy lip synching help to add to the “let’s not take it too seriously” factor.
It would be SO much easier being a cheerleader.