Alphabetical Order

Another Catholic school regulation that can have a rather unfortunate outcome. Alphabetical order. For those of you who are too young to even understand the meaning of the term, alphabetical order is anything regulated by the alphabet. For those of you who are not familiar with the term alphabet, those are the actual letters which make up the words that you see in this post. This is not intended to be a derogatory remark. It's just that lately, like (like is unfortunately a word that has entered the American dialect and will never leave) for the past 10 - 20 years, I have noticed a severe lack of understanding of the English language along with all of its parts etc., etc.. For instance, is that second period after the abbreviation etc. necessary? I think so as the abbreviation is the end of the sentence and the sentence requires a period. However, I am willing to stand corrected if I am entirely in the wrong.

I digress, sorry. Back to alphabetical order. 

For twelve long, long, long years in the oh so catholic catholic school system, student seating arrangements relied on the alphabet - either from Z to A or from A to Z.  This meant that for all of those years one sat next to and across from the same set of students, year and year, after year. This means that one becomes very familiar with those fellow students and those students really get to know you back!

All of your and their bad habits, including hygiene, little quirks, and general afflictions like stuttering, were there to be noted as belonging to your specific persona. These are the things that your fellow classmates could use against you. And, being children, children being not necessarily or naturally nice, you can be sure that this would happen.

As a young girl I had an affliction. I giggled. I giggled at everything. I giggled when I was happy. I giggled when I was scared. I giggled when I screwed up, when I was embarrassed, when I was in trouble (except for the bathroom episodes - when those took place I was scared giggleless), I was simply a giggler. 

Unfortunately, I was always seated next to the boys who liked to make me giggle. They would devise methods to get me giggling without themselves being indicated as the incentives for my giggles. They were devious. They were cute but they were devious. Because they were cute I let them get away with a lot - as far as the giggling goes that is - they endeared themselves to me for some odd reason. There were two boys in particular who sat one in front and one behind and I actually think that I was impressed by their ingeniousness in making me giggle and that's why I put up with them. And of course - they were cute!

Usually when  they were successful (and that was always) I was reprimanded by the teacher and sent to the cloak room where I would continue to giggle so fiercely that I had to bury my face in the coats and try not to pee. (Giggling had many unfortunate outcomes.) Even giggling made me giggle. It was a never ending cycle of insanity. I often found myself practically comatose after one of these sessions and therefore could not think at all when I was allowed back into the classroom and so acquired a 'she's not very smart' label. That's the nice way of putting it. They just thought I was stupid. Another unfortunate outcome...

The boys would compete to see who could make me giggle first. They would poke me with their pencils, sliding them across my back or my arm to make it tickle,  or make farting sounds with their hands and then turn around accusingly while making 'something is stinky' faces, or make animal noises ever so quietly but always some weird  animal, prehistoric or simply unheard of but quite ingenious. They had made a science out of making me giggle and loved to see who could do the worst. 

Yet another affliction over which I had no control was medical in nature and still afflicts me today. (I have since brought giggling under control - for the most part...). My sinuses would give me trouble all the time. I was forever stuffed up and my voice always sounded like I was holding my nose which in all respects is basically what happens when one has sinus problems. There is no breathing through one's nose. And since I refuse to breathe through my mouth ( I was taught that that behavior was abhorrent to the entire world should I indulge in it), I had to constantly carry hankies (yes hankies) and do my best to alleviate enough of the snot in my head so that I would not pass out from lack of oxygen.

One particular giggling episode which I can recall so vividly that I even now will have an attack of the giggles just thinking about it happened when I was so snot packed that my very brain was useless. (There was no such thing as an antihistamine or decongestant as far as my mother knew). And by the way, I inherited this affliction from my father who also went around with a snot induced headache but never had the opportunity for a cure. So I blame my parents of course.

Anyway, this particular day, as I said, was an extremely snot stuffed day. (Yes, I like saying snot!) And this time the cute ingenious boy behind me decided on a new tactic. It began with a very quiet 'herrow' in a DONALD DUCK VOICE!!! I heard this very almost silent 'herrow' and immediately knew I was doomed. Then, 'how ow yow today?' (you will have to imagine this in the Donald Duck voice in order to fully enjoy the torment), then 'did yow do yow homework?'. At this point I was helpless. I was already on high alert, giggle, pee, laugh out loud, or fall right out of my desk in hilarious agony, something had to give  - and it did. I tried to hold it in. I tried not to let the giggle factor take over and render me helpless but it was to no avail. I exploded. More specifically my sinuses exploded...there was snot everywhere and all I could do was laugh like a psychotic maniac trying to keep a hand over my face and hold in the pee while behind me the cute boy said matter of factly in his Donald Duck voice 'I made hew bwow hew nowse'! I thought I would die!

At that point my friend across the aisle, a girl, started handing me wads of Kleenex ( she had Kleenex! I had only the one snotty hanky), and the teacher who hated me in the first place was already revving up to kick me into the cloakroom, which she did, whereupon I divulged into an entirely maniacal fit of laughter which only made the teacher more angry to the point that she entered the cloakroom and proceeded to violently shake me,  which did nothing to stop me but only made me giggle ever more to the point that I was emotionally disturbed to an uncontrollable degree. ...it was my giggle affliction... all mine!

Yes, and all of this was due to the catholic school alphabetical system of regulation.

BTW - I still love those two boys! They gave me memories that, to this day, at the least make me smile and at the most make me giggle hilariously and probably pee....