My big confession.

So, I really don't have many secrets, as I keep saying on yall's comments. I don't lie; I'm over that hurdle in my life where I need to impress people or hide the awful truth. You ask me a question and you better be ready for the answer, cuz ima tell you. I don't steal; I believe karma (the Lord) will repay me for my theft by taking away the things I really need, to teach me the lesson. I was a klepto as a child, but I think that had something to do with having a struggling parent and not wanting to bug her with the little things I wanted, like candy. Also, when I worked at cvs I would take chips and beverages as I was working on the floor... I still kinda do that at my current job, but I don't see that as stealing, kind of as job perks? Lol and the mgt does it. Lead by example. Do you know how much a frapp costs? I also think karma catches me on that one by giving me gas. I am not a cheater. I cheated on one boyfriend, but he was almost literally pushing me into the arms of another, lol. Long story. Anyways, karma got me on that one too, and with the honesty I had with the next dude I dated, it was actually a deal breaker for him. Not that I cheated, but the person I cheated with (James, from the begining of this blog) and he were enemies from way back. Funny that he ended up marrying James's ex (Barbie). I told you she and I shared a few exes... Meanwhile I have been with the same man for 6 wonderful years and have never cheated on him, though one of my (ex)friends tried to get me to by using some of the info I have just shared with you all against me, to make it seem as though a person can never change. And I shared that with Kesi after enough time passed that he couldn't readily punch the guy out. I'm so open with this blog that if you really did some investigations, you could figure out where I live, where I and Kesi work, and some other things about my life.

But this story aint about none of that. This is a story about how I almost didn't graduate. Yeah.

Back in 2002, Joy was quite the kid. I was skipping school, smoking weed, and still managing to have good grades and keep a job at the cvs down the street from my house. I had already passed my biology retake (the teacher failed me on purpose because I didn't do a science project. I'm sorry, I haven't done one since 5th grade and no one else failed me!) and only needed English to graduate. I was actually TRYING to catch senioritis.

So here's my class load: English, dance, anatomy, drama. English was mad easy. But I was in there with my "connect," and a few other friends, and we clowned a lot. Honestly, there was not a person in that class I was not cool with, now that I think about it. Dance... I wanted the cool teacher La wrote about in her post about the big buildings, but I got the wack "I was in a 2live crew vid" choreographer that didn't get that everyone in the class was not trained. And also he wanted to have deep emotional pow wows with a bunch of teen girls. Boo. Anatomy was bomb. The first science class I mastered to the point where I still remember that stuff. Hands down the funnest class. Except the pig dissection, which I protested on the grounds of my love for pigs. And drama was drama. I think that was the year we made the movie (oh my, remember the scene we did in your house la?). Also the year a lot of people discovered what I already knew: the theater is a great place to fool around with your boo. *canon this was the story I was gonna tell but I was told it had to be a serious story so I changed my mind. I'll tell the story of the catwalk later, I promise*

So after Kesi and I started dating I stopped going to dance class. Those two things have nothing to do with each other except that they occurred at the same time. This was Feb 2002. More time to do the homework from my English class and ace it out the box, right? I surfed the net in my favorite teacher's class. Purchased cute outfits from alloy on her credit card (we were that close and I paid her back in cash) and emailed Kesi in his class.

Spring came and with it prom and our trip to the swamp. I had a MAJOR assignment in English which I forgot to take with me to the okefenoke... After I returned Ms H had some choice words for those of us who didn't turn in the assignment: we were now failing. What?!?! Shit. Well I can just do the make up work, a little bonus assignment she gave us, where we get to write our autobiographies. Right up my alley. "and don't bother doing the bonus assignment cuz I'm not gonna grade it. That's for people who tried." damn it! So now I have to ace every assignment she gives for the next 2 weeks (all that was left of the school year at this point) just to not have this fucking 65 she gave me. Or rather, I managed to give myself. And did I mention that she didnt give that many assignments? That's why the assignment I didn't do weighed so much on my grade.

I worked my ass off on everything from then on, even reading and reporting on the slightly confusing "beloved" and doing a bomb oral report on "passing," which involved a clip from the movie "imitation of life" and pictures of my grandma and her sister Alison, who passed for white. I mean, the memories of this class are so vivid because I spent moment in that class the last two weeks of school praying and trying to look really concentrated on what was happening.

The day before graduation, we were all in the gym practicing, when my former math teacher called a series of names and mentioned that they needed to see their guidance counselor about some contrived thing. My name was on that list. When we met with our counselors, turned out we needed to find out our final grades to see if we had passed and would be able to legitimately graduate and not just "walk." there are a few people I know of from my class who got to walk and grab that empty diploma case (everyone's was empty, it just made things easier) who still aren't high school graduates to this day. So we walked down to ms H's class, all the way I was praying that I would be an actually be done with school. I had family come down, some that had NEVER been to Georgia. Cousins, uncles, aunts, oh my goodness. And I'd have to go home and tell them to take that caravan back to CT without news of my glorious graduation. Not to mention the money I'd already spent on my cap and gown, which they did not allow you to buy second hand or rent or borrow from previous graduates.

So I get to the class and tell Ms H why I'm there. She says, "find your initials on the desk and your grade is on there too." I look over and there's a table full of pink post its with letter/number combinations on them. I searched the table for mine and literally fell on the floor crying. JJ. And under that? 76. I passed. I lifted my grade a full 11 points with my awesome writing and oratory skills. She showed me the grades for both the major assignments I mentioned, and I aced them, one with a 110. And I was graduating the next day. Oh my lord never before and never since have I praised Jesus so vehemently.

After all that excitement, I fell asleep during the rest of rehearsal. And I still have that post it note. I keep it in my high school photo album. Its there to remind me that if I don't stay focused, it IS possible to fuck up the easiest of tasks.

The reason why I never tell anyone that is, well, why would I? Yeah. I'll admit that I almost screwed up 13 years of work cuz I was unfocused. I mean, I am currently wearing my 12th grade honor roll tee in bed. I made honor roll and then almost didn't graduate!? That's bad math. And I was actually VERY good at math.
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