Questions

Questions

I remember when I was little, always asking questions. it's actually one of the few things I remember from before the age of five. I could never take a simple 'no' for an answer, I needed to know <I>why</I>. <I>Why</I> was I not allowed to stomp in the puddles, <I>why</I> wasn't it shorts weather yet, <I>why<I> can't I watch that. I was so persistent and often times, downright annoying, that my Grandmother actually started calling me 'Bugsy'.

I think the most annoying answers that a two year old can hear sound something like 'Because I said so.' and 'What part of No, didn't you understand?'. Both of which, I remember, sent me into a hairy fit, and the latter of which I actually did try and explain. Unfortunately, having my parents laugh at me while I was trying my damnedest to explain exactly what part of No I didn't understand (the part between the N and the O), sent me even further into conniptions. I was two, and have since forgiven them; it was pretty funny.

From kindergarten all the way through to grade ten I was the kid in class everyone hated. the annoying one who wouldn't shut up, and had to keep pestering the teacher to know more. <I>why</I> do the lenses in eyes detach? <I>why</I>was Germany so interested in world domination? <I>why do we have to double seam things?</I>. I’m sure it annoyed my teachers almost as much as it did my peers, but really I was just curious. I mean, who wouldn't want to know the answer to why someone once tried to print out all the numbers of Pi onto paper? Seriously, what motivates someone to do something like that?

there were classes, however, where I was too shy to speak up. Classes like Spanish ten, for instance.

I'd never taken Spanish nine, which was the precursor to ten, but who or what ever was in charge of course selection, decided I was going to be in ten. I talked it over with my councilor a few days later, to see what she recommended, and she said as long as I was comfortable with it, it didn't matter if I stayed in ten. I thought about it for the rest of the day. Staying meant I could be with my friends, and be with people in the same grade, it also meant I wouldn't have to shuffle my course load around. I returned later that day to tell her I would stay.

Spanish ten wasn't as hard as I’d thought, and I studied hard. The questions I had, I directed to my friends who'd been in Spanish nine and they helped me immensely; I would have failed without them I’m sure.

then there was the day I found out.

I had just finished copying my homework from Shawna when I heard some of the jocks start talking in their overly loud, booming voices. it took me a moment to realize they were talking about me.

(before I continue, I should mention that jocks, in my high school and grade, were actually not indecent scum of the earth. they weren't particularly nice, but they were nice to look at, and somehow or other they'd missed the memo on caring only for themselves.)

they said something and started to laugh. that in itself was not uncommon, I was not particularly popular and I knew it, but I had thought that at least I was no longer loathed.

they started talking again. 'God, she's so fucking annoying. all she ever does is ask retarded questions... in every class... everyone hates it. she never shuts up!'

hurt as I was, and as prone to crying as I was, I remember standing up with a twisted grin and saying in a projected voice across the room. 'Yeah, funny thing about talking about people behind their back. Generally you wait until they're out of the room.' and sat back down, shaking mad. I'd seen the color drain from his face when he saw me stand up, and I’d like to think he felt guilty for saying what he did.

either way, the damage was done. Questions don't seem as important to me now, I seldom ask them anymore. it's effected my grades horribly, but I’ve stopped asking. I’ve discovered a line between polite inquiry and downright annoying that I did not know existed.

I’ve stopped asking questions, and started looking for the answers myself.