The Skeletons In My Closet.

So I was reminiscing today for the hell of it. I don't know why, so don't ask. No, I don't have a cool and outlandish event that occurred that triggered the sudden recall of this memory. After all, memory is first encoded then stored in long term memory and can be recalled at any moment, regardless of trigger. Anyway, I was thinking about life in sheep school...

Sheep school? WTF? Is Aditee on crack? Yes. But we'll address that issue later. For those of you that don't know me, (which is actually no one reading this blog, but for old times sake I'll give a refresher) I attended a small charter school in Flagstaff, Arizona 3rd-6th grade. Instead of learning, oh, I don't know, math and history and science and all of that jazz, I learned about Norse Mythology, the movement of the stars and how to make hand-dipped beeswax candles. No math. No history. No science. If you had said to me, "Explain what the outcome of the American Civil War was," I would have looked at you blankly and wordlessly handed you a hand-knitted muffler made from the wool of the sheep we looked after at school. Yes. You read that right. We had to raise sheep, reap and flax the wool, and spin it on a Sleeping Beauty style spinning needle. Hence the name "sheep school." I wouldn't have won the Scripps National Spelling Bee at that point in time or anything, but if you needed someone with mad Medieval-housewife skills I was your homegirl.

So back to the memory. Each year in sheep school we took a field trip. In 6th grade we went to God knows where but for those of you visually-oriented folks picture this: A bleak forest setting with tall trees and gray skies. And in the middle of that forest was a dull gray clearing where we made camp. For that whole week, we had to attend dueling lessons in the clearing complete with authentically-proportional-to-our-height wooden swords. The one thing that stands out from that event was that my groups' swords were gold, and everyone else's were silver, and that's because we were bitchin'. Anyway, at the end of the week my whole fucking tent was woken up at sunrise and handed white shroud-like outfits. We threw them on ourselves and followed our teacher out to wherever the fuck we were heading.....because we sure as hell didn't have a clue. Oh did I mention I was fucking blind during the whole thing? Due to the fact that we were woken up so early, I didn't have time to put in my contacts, so it was a bit like trudging through a Blair-Witch-Project-like movie scene. After winding our way through the damn forest behind our teacher, we ended up at a stream, where, one by one, we were lead up to the edge and "anointed" by our teacher. Really this meant she pored fucking ice cold water on us while we were bent over at the edge of the stream.

Yes, this really all did happen, and yes, it sounds like something out of a bad Vatican City sex scandal movie. But this is what it is. Does that explain why I'm so creepy today?

Ciao sexies.