writing the title first is a bad habit

Between the ages of three and six, I attended a Montessori school. If you don't know what that is, then look it up on Wikipedia. I'm not going to bend over backwards for you people just to provide a link, okay? Especially when I kind of don't like you. No offense, I just kind of don't.

The best way to get people's attention is to insult them, as my Greatgrandpa Todd always says. I'm just kidding. His name's not Todd. Also, even it was, he'd be dead by now, so that verb tense back there should be in the past. Zing! (I dare you to go toe-to-toe with me today.)

Quick sidenote, two of my associates (read:lovers) explained to me the other day that one of them could name all of the meats. Further, he could name all eight meats. Well, it kind of went like this..(again with the double period)

M: Hey, man, is it true you can name all the meats?
C: What?
M: Can't you name all the meats? Hey, everybody, watch this. He can name all 8 meats.
C: Let's see, there's eight, right? Okay, you keep count. There's pork shoulder, pork butt, flank pork, pork steak, shoulder steak, flank steak, shoulder butt, butt steak, and pork butt.
M: Yeah, you got all of them!
C: Did I say pork butt twice?
M: Yeah.
C: Good, so I got all nine of them.

I can't tell you how serious I am about this. Sometimes I wonder about my life. Other times, my death. C'est l'guerre!

Anyway, after further investigation (back to the Montesorri thing), I don't think it was the best environ for me. You see, I'm a free-spirit of sorts, freely spiriting around the globe like it was going out of style. This type of institution allowed me to do four things that I remember VERY clearly, though many moons have passed.

1) Using magic markers to color my fingernails, as my parents would not allow me to paint them. I did this covertly, under the table.

2) Smacking this one kid in the buttocks really hard and really often. I had a crush on him (I was 4) and he was a couple years older than me. He never told on me, though my teacher caught me doing this repeatedly. While harassing him, I would shout with glee, "Huggies spanking!" and giggle maniacally. Heh. It still makes me giggle maniacally. I think I said that because he was still, in fact, wearing diapers and I liked the sound that the spank made.

3) Huffing an empty bottle of Old Spice. There were long, larger shelves that formed a type of maze and I'd hid the bottle in one of the corners. A few times a day, I'd secretly go smell it, then return to whatever else I was doing.

4) Burning my mouth on peanut butter balls, and then getting yelled at by my mom for eating them because she didn't like how they smelled. I don't know if I'm remember this correctly, as I don't know if peanut butter balls (seriously just balls of peanut butter or something) are hot, but I knew that I'd get into the car and my mom could smell them all over me.

That's what I derived from my education at Montesorri. Apparently, some kids go to these kinds of schools throughout high school. Imagine what I'd be like if I would have. More of a genius? That's not for me to say. I looked at the class picture (tongue-sticking-out, mom-pissed) and I kind of think we all looked symptomatically Downs'.