Remember that first day of high school? How you were so nervous and perhaps even frightened? If you weren’t go sit in the corner, no one really likes people like you anyway, and I am talking to the rest of us. By us I mean the ones that were legitimately apprehensive about entering a new phase of life. The cool Juniors and Seniors pulling up in their cool cars, while you were staring out the windows of your mom’s car in silent agony wondering why the hell she had insisted that a Snoopy backpack was still cool.
The reason for this long winded introduction is this: WordPress feels like the same thing. It’s new, it’s exciting, but it is also at times terrifying. You aren’t in a clique immediately. You kind of wander the halls aimlessly wondering if the architect might’ve been distantly related to Daedalus, trying to noodle your way to your first period algebra class whilst surrounded by people who’ve obviously already arrived at the tail end of their growth spurt and you’re still grooming the single hair on your chest like Kevin Costner with the last remaining potted plant in Waterworld.
You don’t really know anyone, and like any social situation, knowing and meeting others is the key. However, you’re the clumsy freshman. While the Senior Blogger Dude’s main grooming tool is mousse and a comb, yours is Clearasil and deodorant, not because you perspire, but because it enhances the farting sounds you can make with your hand and armpit. And make videos of it.
But a few months in and I am getting the feel of the place. I don’t feel like such a stranger anymore, and yes, I’m finding my way around much easier. That makes a lot of difference. Like anything else in life it gets familiar. And more comfortable. It gets easier. And you start figuring out your way to the top. Graduating from class to class until finally you’re one of the Seniors. Those bloggers that can write a spiel about an unfortunate toenail clipping accident and somehow get 10,000 hits in one day, just because they’re cool.
You’ve got jocks and nerds and geeks and bookworms and techies and all sort of other labels that give away my age. Then you’ve got the Teacher’s Pets. Those Freshly Pressed ones that everyone loves to read, but secretly envies for all the attention they get. (If this post seems like a rather thinly veiled attempt at getting myself in the group, well then, I will simply say I wouldn’t mind it at all).
No, I am not an upperclassman yet, but everyday I see a new class arrive with their welcome posts and I get the satisfaction of being comfortable with the place and no longer being the new kid in class. One day I’ll graduate from here and go to someplace where I am new again, like many before me. But then, that’s another post. Some day.