90 Minutes or As I Sat Watching: A Novel

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Tyrone

Tyrone is my interpretation of of someone who's first name is Justin. I do not recall his last name, but I always thought he appeared punkish, and "Tyrone" fits my stereotype of a punk.
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Christobel

Caroline Caspar is Christobel. I chose the name Christobel for Caroline because I think that Christobel is pretty name and Caroline is a pretty girl, so it is only fitting that one should have the other. Also, they both start with "C."
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American Lit...sigh...the Final is tomorrow...I better pay attention in class today more than anything else...pay attention pay attention no slipping off pay attention....
      Levi: "Mrs. Sardoné, can we play a game?"
  A game...what an interesting notion maybe we could do an interpretive dance of The Scarlet Letter and make it all real an everything of course we'd have to find an old man to play Chillingworth, Dan could play that role, and Dennis could be Dimmesdale 'cause he's tall, Mrs. Sardoné could be the Governor's sister, Sibyl could play Hester since she's got that "Woe is me" thing down, and I'd play Pearl since I'm such a jewel but maybe Felicity ought to play Hester instead--she'd do a better job of acting than Sibyl would. I wonder if Felicity has finished studying for her Drama Final yet or not...
      Sardoné: "Sure, Levi. We can do a little bit of interacting. I'll ask questions and go around the room so that y'all can review for the Final tomorrow." pay attention...must pay attention pay attention to the review.
      Sardoné: "What literary movement began in New England and stressed one's ability to transcend beyond this life?"
  Hmmm...transcendentalism it seems...I wonder what it would be like to transcend life floating about the clouds and looking down at your body through that giant eye Emerson talked about. That'd be so weird looking through a giant eye--no depth perception. Wouldn't you fall over? I wonder if a giant eye can fall over, after all it is round...
      Sardoné: "Christobel, what do you remember about Mary Rowlandson?"
  pay attention pay attention... "A Narrative of the Captivity was BO-ring!" uh-oh, she got a look on her face, I better take some furious notes writewritewrite I wonder why they're called furious...it's not as if the paper is just going to leap up and bite me...pay attention pay attention.
      Sardoné: "I'm beginning to run out of steam. Spend the rest of the class studying; I'm tired."
  Goody goody, now I can talk to Felicity for a while and I don't have to pay attention anymore. Felicity is looking at books on the shelf and talking to Claude...I wonder what they're talking about...now he's writing in that orange book of his...there's got to be some great things in there like embarrassing moments, romantic situations, funny witticisms, a whole world of grandiose intentions where the characters live and breathe and act out their wildest fantasies on one another...or it could just be general observations, I'll go over there and ask. I walk through the milling mass of people pointedly not studying for their Final over to Claude. "Hello, Claude. What exactly is that orange book?"
      Claude: "Just an observation book; I write down things I observe."
      "Am I in it?"
      Felicity: "Am I?"
      Claude: "Not yet, but I can put you in it if you'd like."
  He writes for a moment, "Thanks, Claude." I go back to my desk with a feeling of satisfaction and spend time with Felicity and move back to my belongings...Sibyl packed up hers about ten minutes ago: we should be leaving soon.
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Those bells always ring four times like a square and squares always have four sides...if they only had three sides all the buildings might fall over or the tops would be squished unless the bottom squished instead...of course the buildings could have been made of triangles then they wouldn't be affected... ...woah! I almost walked into that guy! I better pay attention pay attention....

Satisia

Satisia originally pertained to Megan O'Grady, but when I decided to write this chapter, I came to the conclusion that she does not refer to anyone in particular. Satisia come from the Latin word satis meaning "enough," because Megan was always quiet and reserved in that class. The idea of writing a non-existant chapter came from Megan herself.
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Barot

Barot is, in conception, Owen Reich. The name comes from a Latin word baro, baronis which means something along the lines of "stupid one" because Owen--though he has since reformed--had at the time acted in a manner which was not beyond reproach.
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listen to the pretty bells pretty pretty bells ringing...bells bring class class brings fun...what fun! oooh, a desk to sit in and its in the same place it was yesterday! the same room the same teacher the same people and everything...wow! look at all the pretty colors on the wall! like a psycha...psychadel...insane rainbow! whys Levis mouth moving when theres no sound? oh, there it is...
Levi: "Mrs. Sardoné, can we play a game?"
what a great idea! a game would be fun cause games are fun...maybe we could invent the wheel...or count all the little fairies flying about the room...what fun!
Sardoné: "Sure, Levi. We can do a little bit of interacting. I'll ask some questions and go around the room so y'all can review for your Final tomorrow."
wish she would speak english and slower too are we gonna do it are we gonna do it?
yeah! a game a game NOOOOO!!!!! THE COLORS ARE FADING! NOOOOO!!!!! at least ive still got all the nice fairies to keep me company if only theyd stop pouring butter on me and poking me with those lobster forks... oh! look! the game stopped and its recess now boy-oh-boy...im so smart...ill go sit over there with Claude and Huck and Kara and Dennis so everyone will know im so smart...im so smart...whyd Kara just leave maybe i should follow and ask but the fairies say no i wonder what Claude is writing in that neon green book or is it black its hard to say ill ask casually..."Am I in the orange book? What have you written about me? Is it bad? Is it a lot or only a little? Can I read it? Please?" whys it called orange book when its so obviously vermilion? whys he getting up and leaving? the fairies dont like Claude...oooh grades! Mrs. Sardoné has posted grades the fairies tell me i should look at my grade so ill do well on the final tomorrow...i stand in line...NOOOO!!!!! THE COMPUTER ATE A FAIRY!! OH POOR FAIRY!!!! oooh look...theres the fairy now coming back up from fairy heaven i wonder why its on fire and has a little pointy tail...if only itd stop poking me with that pitchfork...and how colorful are the walls again they pulse with that insane rainbow...ooh, ah...
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the class is over? i had no idea...what will i do now...the fairies say go to the next class...all except that red one who wants me to go with it somewhere ill always be warm and the colors will never fade OH NO!!!!! I STEPPED ON THE LITTLE RED FAIRY!!!!! ITS ALL SQUISHED!!!!! fairy guts are purple...i guess i have to go to the next class now sigh...at least ive got the little red fairy to keep me company...

Claude

Claude is me, Tyler Travillian. It originally pertained to my Latin name which I mistakenly took for Tiberius Claudius Nero. Upon learning more about the second Roman emperor, I have ammended my Latin name to Tiberius Gracchus--a more suitable role model.
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      This is my last day in American literature before the Final. Sigh. I'll miss Mrs. Sardoné. No one's as satirical as she can be. the rest of the class begins to trickle in bit by bit now that the bell has rung. #@$! Peregrin is here. I had hoped for at least one day without his annoyance, but I suppose that won't happen now. What's this! Levi is sitting next to Peregrin! No! That's the worst combination possible--now I must listen to them both.
      Levi: "Mrs. Sardoné, can we play a game?" He wants to play a game. Finals are tomorrow and I'd like to study, but he wants to play a game. What's worse, most of the class concurs. They have learned absolutely nothing all semester--what numbskulls. And, to my horror, Sardoné answers, "Sure, Levi. We can do a little bit of interacting. I'll ask questions and go around the room so y'all can review for your Final tomorrow. I'll do this review for as long as I can stand it: 30-40 minutes." What a perfect opportunity for me to get out my orange observation book and observe the foibles of this class. If I had ever doubted my own personal maxim that people are idiots, the observations contained in this book have proven to me otherwise. Sardoné starts by asking obviously simple questions to boost our confidences. "What literary movement began in New England and stressed one's ability to transcend beyond this life?" That's easy; it's transcendentalism. Obviously. She even stressed the word "transcend." Look at that! Two people missed it in a row! Have they been sleeping the last eighteen weeks? Obvious questions and incorrect answers go on and on and on what torture this is! I can barely write fast enough to get it all down in my orange book. writewritewrite Levi and Peregrin begin bickering behind me over who is more intelligent though they should really be fighting over who is the most intellectually inept. On and on I listen to their bickering until it becomes more torturous even than the mock review game. Finally, I insult them both without turning around and both are quiet as they try to work out the insult with their pea-brains. Peace, of a sort, at last. Half an hour passes in this manner and Sardoné tires of asking questions to which most do not know the answer so she frees us to study though most take to speaking socially with only vague pretenses at study making it impossible for any others to seriously apply themselves. Since I cannot study as I would wish, I instead take more observations in the orange book and cross the room to join a group of revelers comprised of the few intelligent people in the room and a few onlookers. I sit near Dennis and Huck that I might converse more freely with them. While Barot hangs on pretending to be one of the smart ones. As I bring my orange book, more and more gather around attempting to read what has been observed therein. The crowd drives Dennis off thus giving Barot the chance to come in close.
      "Am I in the orange book? What have you written about me? Is it bad? Is it a lot or only a little? Can I read it? Please?" At the deluge of questions from Barot I too vacate the area and observe as the crowd, without my orange book for a focus, disperses. They're all going to fail the Final. Having returned to my seat, both Levi and Peregrin have moved elsewhere making it much more tolerable but I am quickly approached by Felicity and Christobel.
      Christobel: "Hello, Claude. What exactly is that book?"
      "Just an observation book; I write down things I observe."
      Christobel: "Am I in it?"
      Felicity: "Am I?"
      "Not yet, but I can put you in it if you'd like." They wish to be observed in my orange book. As they are both quite easy on the eyes I listen to their entreaties with good humor and obligingly add them to the book.
      Christobel: "Thanks, Claude." They too, having used me for what I was worth, depart. Looking at the clock to see how much more of this inane torture I must endure, I see that there are only fifteen minutes remaining and I am glad. In the last few minutes, the class resolves into open socializing and a great line appears at Mrs. Sardoné's computer with the intention of viewing their grades as though knowing the grades ahead of time will aid them in any manner on the Final tomorrow. What fools. There must be ten minutes left in class now as I see Sibyl packing up her books--that girl is better than a clock in telling when it is time to leave. I take frantic notes in the orange book not wanting to miss a detail of what has occurred in the class today. Someday I have to use this material to write a novel. What a novel idea! Hahahahehehehahaha. I crack myself up.
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The class, in a state of flux, rushes for the door as though speed somehow matters and will bring about the end of the day quicker if they can just get to that next class rushrushrushrush. They're all going to fail the Final, and I will laugh. I will miss Mrs. Sardoné, though. Time to trade one class for another; they all think that they are free but really the cycle is eternal.

Fin




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