I second that demotion

Good morning, gentle readers. It's Thursday, and do you know what that means? Me neither, but it was worth asking. Whenever possible, I like to extend an unintentional theme throughout the majority of a week. This week is no exception, and after two days talking about Yearbook Camp, I'm going to delve into some stuff that happened in that world after returning from the getaway. It's a tale of tough choices, backstabbery, vengeance via procrastination, and ultimately the dawn of a new creative age. (That makes it sound a hell of a lot more intriguing, no?)

Chapter 1: Tough Choices
As I mentioned earlier this week, I spent my junior year of Yearbook Staff working on the underclassmen pages and setting myself up to be one of the Co-Editors in Chief the following year. When the time came for the teacher to name the two new Editors, I fully expected to be one of them because of the work I had done. There was a difficult wrinkle in there though: the main Yearbook class period was the same time that the only Advanced Placement Spanish course was offered. I knew this would be a sticking point in the mind of the teacher, but I had come a long with my language courses and did not want to give up something that I could potentially continue scholastically in college in exchange for an extracurricular activity. I talked to him about it and hoped he would appreciate my tough decision. I played up the internal struggle a little more than it actually existed, and I left the conversation feeling like my chances were as good as ever to still get one of the positions.

A couple of days later, the teacher announced that due to some scheduling complications, we would have three Co-Editors for the first time in Yearbook Staff history. Two would be in the main period and one would be in another one. We each had other large sections we'd be in charge of to offset the fact that we were dividing the Editor duties in thirds instead of halves (I would have the magazine section in the middle of the book). I felt like that decision was a little slap in the face, and sensing this, the teacher told me that I had made my priorities known and this was a consequence. I had put him in a tough position as well, and I didn't harbor resentment for long at all.

Chapter 2: Backstabbery
The resentment came back though, let me assure you. I set my schedule and put Yearbook in an open space. I told the teacher where it would be (he had told me that it didn't matter), and he asked why I couldn't do it in fourth period instead. "I have Play Production then," I told him. He made a dismayed face, clearly unhappy that I had chosen something else "more important" than his class. It didn't take long after that. About two weeks into the new school year, he pulled me aside. "Let's just agree that this isn't working out," he started. I had no intention of agreeing, but I allowed him to continue. "You obviously have a lot of other commitments with Spanish, the drama stuff, and your improv group, so let's call it what it is and just let you be the Magazine Editor while the other two take over the larger duties." I was about to be completely fine with that decision, fully acknowledging that it had been difficult to oversee projects when I wasn't physically with a lot of the staff. But then he added, "Don't worry, you can still put Editor on your college applications if you want," as if that was my motive from the beginning.

Chapter 3: Vengence Via Procrastination
I'll be the first to admit that my actions from that point on were of the passive aggressive nature. I knew that the teacher (who really was a nice man whom I respected) got very antsy when projects weren't completed well in advance. Therefore, I took my sweet time. The magazine section was my baby, and I told him it would all be done in time and done well.

Chapter 4: The Dawn of a New Creative Age
While most people formed ideas with the teacher, wrote articles, and then went out with a photographer to get appropriate shots for that feature, I took a different approach. I came up with an idea, looked through the box of discarded photos that no one was using, and found a way to make those fit something in the piece. If they didn't fit, I'd change things around so that they did. This afforded me an amazing amount of creative freedom with the smaller time commitment necessary, and I had a lot of fun with it. Since the teacher was so fed up with my process, I don't think he proofed my projects well enough and a few things slipped in there that were questionable. Allow me to illustrate both the part about the pictures and the questionable content:

I created a list of "The Most Requested New Classes" on one of the pages. After coming up with 15 funny titles, I went to the box of photos and flipped through. There was a picture of two guys in a class, and one has his eyes closed from blinking at the flash. Most would discard that photo, but I manage to tie it in. The caption reads, "As Larry Cox reads his Hypnotism homework aloud, he accidentally causes William Gutierrez to slip into a deep, semi-conscious trance." Ta dah! As for "questionable content," I still can't believe that I was allowed to print such course titles as "Hands-On Sex Ed," "Body Piercing 101," "Self Mutilation," "Weapon Shop," and "Self Gratification 101."

Other "articles" included a list of bad jokes, made-up band names for the future, random facts ("Loss of life is the leading cause of death for people ages 25-40"), pick-up lines, and little articles about the year in music, movies, and fashion. It was all very well received, and that magazine section was hands-down a precursor to UOPTA. Lack of preparation? Check. Very loosely tying things together? Check. Writing about things that I find interesting without considering if others might? You know it, sista.

So that's my story. Judging by the word count, I think it's fair to say that I successfully stretched the theme out for another day. Yay me. Have a good rest of the day, friends, and I'll be back tomorrow with another Follow Up Friday.