The High school Song
By Maureen (with help from Melanie Chan)

Song by Audra and the Antidote. Characters are Disney's. Story is mine. Money is not in my wallet. Grass is green. Eating yellow snow is bad.


Cliques who never picked up a book
were telling you how to act
and how to look
I used to call them...
the "Cookie Cutter Crowd"

I've never been one of 'them', one of the 'in crowd', and I never will be. What's more is that I'm not sure I want to be. Who am I? I am too cool to be a 'nerd', too geeky to be popular. My parents and few friends call me Melanie Chan. The popular people, with the exception of a certain few, call me Melanoma. I prefer to be called Super Chan, journalist extraordinaire.

I want to be an editor when I grow up, decide who is cutting edge in fashion and who should be on the A-list and who was last years fad. I want to work for Vanity Fair. It's probably a pipedream, like my childhood fantasy of being a princess and whisked away to some faraway land away from the teasing and tormenting. With my luck, I'll probably end up working for my father and eventually taking over his business. Toilets, what a stinky mess.

You weren't cool
if you got good grades
or didn't drink, or smoke,
or get laid - but if you did
you could go to their
parties at the landfill!

That's my biggest problem I think. I actually like to learn. I'm not all wacko over science or math, in fact, beyond balancing my checkbook and figuring my taxes, I don't see why I need it. I love English. Philosophy. Sociology. History. I love the soft sciences, the ones that don't require a precise answer to the hundredth decimal place. I can argue for hours on nearly any given subject if I can find a worthy adversary. That's another problem, there are none in Kingsport, Virginia.

Now, the major cliques
were the "skaters" and the "rebels"
who were all the same
except the rebels wore leather
and the skaters had the
"skate boarding's not a crime" bumper stickers
But they all went to all the same parties...
And I'm sure now they all work at Hardees
still arguing over whether or not Ozzy is cool

Let's look at our cast of characters here at Kingsport High School. After we get past the usual boring assortment of perfect looking jocks and preps we have the 'Super Squad'. This subset is comprised of two football players and a cheerleader, all destined for greatness. Even I can admit it. They're honor roll students, they're EMTs, they're perfect looking, and to make everything worse, they are nice to everyone. Even me. I somehow managed to ask Hank, one of the football players, to homecoming last year. I couldn't believe he said 'yes'. I nearly peed my pants I was so happy! Thank goodness I didn't, I can just see that rumor! The night was nearly a page out of 'dates from hell', but in the end, Hank and I had a pretty decent time and we're still friends. He's my closest 'prep' friend, and backup date sometimes.

Then there are the Bleacher Junkies. As their name implies, they are the outcasts of the school. I'm not really a junkie, my life isn't nearly screwed up enough, but I do find solace with them sometimes when I absolutely can't stand life. They help to put things into perspective; that yes, there is someone out there with bigger problems than me. I am somewhat close to two of the BJ's (no jokes please). Catie and Jamie. Catie is a Goth, and she is always crusading for something. I would love to interview her for an in-depth article, but the editor of the school paper says she wouldn't make good copy. I think he's full of crap. When I'm editor, I'm getting her story.

Then there is Jamie, Catie's usual partner in crime. Surprisingly enough, he's an EMT too and works with the 'Super Squad'. Jamie has a cynical outlook on life but a heart of at least bronze. I did get to do an article on him after he ran into a burning building to save a child. I admit, I went a little star crazy, but it thankfully passed.

This was my High school - yeah yeah
This was my High school - yeah, yeah

Enough about the decent people at school though.

Eighty dollars was taken from my purse
during gym class one day,
and to make matters worse
the exact same thing happened
the day before

I was furious! I had worked hard for the money! I had finally saved enough money to buy this new jacket I had been swooning over for nearly a month and all for nothing! The bitch took over $115 of my hard-earned money! I said something about it to the gym coach, but she just said I should have locked my purse up. I informed her that I had locked my purse up and that the money was stolen while my back was turned when I was dressing. She said it was my problem and that there was nothing she could do.

Shyeah right. More like she didn't want to be bothered.

I had a feeling I knew who to blame
I never confronted her though,
and it's such a shame
after all, she was soon to be
somebody's mommy

I could just imagine the confrontation. I did for weeks after I lost the money, and subsequently, the jacket as well.

Super Chan: Hey bitch, you took my money!
Girl: so?
SC: So? So I want it back!
Girl: bite me.
And then I dispense with the super ninja fighting skills all of us Asian people are supposed to have and drop kick her ass. Unfortunately, Asian though I may be, I never received the super-ninja gene. Damn my DNA.

A friend of mine had his leather jacket stolen
right out of his locker one Monday morning...
And he too thought he knew who'd done it
later that week his suspicions were confirmed
when to him the alleged thief turned and said,
"Hey man, do you wanna buy a leather jacket?"

That happened to Jamie. His leather jacket was one of his two most prized possessions, the other one being his motorcycle. He looked so pissed when he realized it was gone, he punched his locker so hard he got detention for two days. Not that this was anything new; Jamie pretty much lived in detention. Mr. Carlson, our principal, I don't think he sees me as a short, annoying pest that will go away once I have had my fill of blood just like any other parasite. I want to be a journalist; I'm a parasite by nature. I just wish he wasn't so obvious about it. Anyways, Carlson hates Jamie, along with the other Bleacher Junkies with a passion. Nearly half are in detention on any given day.

When Jamie found out who had taken it, he beat him up right there in the hallway. I wasn't there at the time, but I heard that Jamie trashed the guy really good, wrecked his face without sending him to the hospital. I guess that's what he learned as an EMT.

This was my High school - yeah yeah
This was my High school - yeah, yeah
I hated High school...

The Spanish teacher would hit on me
and try to teach me "biology"
between classes she always smelled
like pot. (Regarding the come on...
" thanks," I said,
"but, the gym coach might be interested
she's always trying to get me on her 'team'"

Being a reporter, I have a certain nose for news. As much as we are supposed to avoid cliché's like the plague ('natch!) and there was something just not quite kosher about the Spanish teacher. More than the pot I mean. Or the lesbianism. One day she told me to go get some papers for her out of a desk drawer and I saw these two videos, both were obviously porn and one had a sheep on the front. When I brought her the papers she was as white as a ghost, most likely having realized what I had seen. I never said a word, but I spotted her out on the other side of town one day several months later dressed in black latex and spike heels. I'm not sure what she was doing and I don't want to know, that is one story I am not interested in!

Now, a certain teacher of geometry
and social studies periodically
would be sighted partying
with last year's grads.

Last I heard on him, he had knocked up one of them too, after she had turned 18. He had somehow managed to keep his hands to himself until after he graduated, but not after that. He won't lose his job this way, only everyone's respect. I think it would have been nicer to have fired him, at least then he wouldn't have had to deal with the pitying looks. I know all about those looks, I get them whenever I am forced to drive one of my dad's plumbing trucks to do my errands. I'm sure you've seen them; they have a giant toilet on the roof. Yeah, that's me driving them, and yeah, it sucks. Big time.

But the English teacher was a proper man
who later changed - so I understand -
and shacked up with the principal's son.

This was my High school - yeah yeah
This was my High school - yeah, yeah

I think this, more than anything else at my high school hurts me the most. Mr. DeFalco was the coolest English teacher I had ever had and he really encouraged my writing and convinced me to apply to the school newspaper. He helped my writing mature so much and then he told me last Thanksgiving that he wouldn't be coming back this semester. I asked 'why?' and he explained he was having surgery that would take several months to recuperate from. I was shocked; he was a healthy virile young man! I could hardly believe it when I got a letter during Christmas break from him explaining what had happened.

John DeFalco had become Joan DeFalco...and had been fired for it! I was ready to find Catie and launch a crusade for equal rights, but...she? urged me not to. She said she didn't want her job back since she had met a wonderful man and they were going to get married and have a family. Talk about scandalise!

The Vice-principal approached me
one day and said,
"Get rid of that headband, OK?!
We don't allow any fashion statements here!"
I was like, what do you mean?
Isn't everything you wear a fashion
statement and not just your hair?
I told him I thought it was a
really silly rule

I love to wear bright colors, especially reds, blues and purples. It makes me feel so bright and cheery when I see myself in such happy colors unlike the muted blues and grays that the preps are so fond of. I've been in detention a couple times for my choice in attire, although I have never really worn anything truly risqué. I'm too modest.

I have also found out about several rather nasty rumors about my clothing, that I only shop at thrift stores or that I am color blind and that explains it all. There was one once that said I dressed in bright colors to contrast Catie. Why can't people just accept that I (and Catie) choose to dress with a bit of originality and be done with it? What do they gain from hurting us?

But I remember later that year
wearing a dress to class on day that was sheer
with nothing underneath but a string bikini
It's funny then he didn't seem to care
and at every turn, guess who was there!
Apparently he liked what he saw.

If Jamie and Catie hated Carlson, then I hated Mr. Addams. He was the perv king, bigger than even Happosai. And unlike Ranma ½, I could not hit him with a sledgehammer and be rid of him for a while. I don't know why he despised me so much, perhaps it was because I was neither here nor there in the grand scheme of things at KHS. Or perhaps it was because I knew everything interesting. In Yiddish I would be referred to as a 'yenta' but that isn't wholly accurate. I mean, a yenta is a gossipmonger and I suppose I am in a way, but I don't do anything with the things I know usually. I'm an ethical reporter I protect my sources. It's kinda like doctor-patient confidentiality.

This was my High school - yeah yeah
This was my High school - yeah, yeah
I hated High school...

Why my sudden urge to bare my soul? To unleash my inner demons, my driving force? Because I just matter what has happened or what will happen, I am and will always be Melanie Chan and nobody can ever take that away from me. No one can bully me into betraying myself or those I hold dear. And perhaps, perhaps parts of high school weren't all bad. Homecoming with Hank was certainly one of the better evenings.

And it's all true
except that part about the string bikini - it was a one piece. And that part about Hardee''s a Pizza Hut...Hardee's rhymed.