So yeah, I was never any good at introductions. Either I was too shy, or I just didn't care about them all that much. Once again I've failed at one here. And yes, if you have read The Catcher in the Rye I will sound a bit like the main character, Holden Caulfield. If you haven't read the book, read it soon. It's quite good. Contrary to his relative hypocrisy however, I'm not going to leave myself open to as much criticism as he did. But make my words, there shall be some holes left for you to prod into. Might as well get it out of the way now, eh? The big ole' disclaimer that I'm probably nothing like any of you that are reading this, that I think differently, and hold myself to things differently than others at times. So if you get offended, I am truly sorry, it's just the way I am. If you think I'm a complete moron for what I do, and how I act, I agree, I probably am a moron. If you have read the story, you'll also see the parallel between me calling myself a moron and Holden calling himself a madman. Either way, we're both idiots.
But I suppose you'd like to know a little bit about me before I actually tell my story, eh? So I might as well start at the beginning. It is a good place to start, I suppose. If you haven't guessed just a tiny bit, I am partially Canadian. Grandma was born in Toronto way back in '25. Eventually she had my mother in '56 here in Rochester, New York, and then I came along in '86 on that wonderfully blizzard-filled day of December 8th. Mom named me Matthew, funny in a sense that it's straight out the Bible, something I can't quite believe in anymore. But that's quite a whole 'nother story. I'll give ya a quick overview for the hell of it, since I've got the time I guess. Basically I'm a literal bastard child who has never met his biological father. He lives like two towns over supposedly in Fairport. Whatever. I don't care. I have a "step" father that's really just what I like to call my true father, since he's everything a real father would be, and more. I love the guy, he's awesome, and he's probably better than that scummy biological father could have ever been, so I'm happy with it. Oh yeah, for the record, my last name's LeRoy. Mom never got married before she had me, so I still have her true last name. She took dad's (Step-dad's, whatever, I'm calling him dad from now on, get used to it.) last name when they got married when I was ten. Oh, and one more thing. It's pronounced "La-Roy" not "Lee-Roy" I hate when people get it wrong, I swear it's gonna plague me for life. Again, people, I'm Canadian and a very tiny bit Dutch.
Oh yeah, might as well mention the fact that this is a true story as well. I mean, for those of you who don't know me, I actually am the person that's writing this, not just a made up character like Holden is. I hope the real people as characters can be as good as made up ones. At least there's no plagiarism involved here, right?
Anyways, that's my mini-autobiography in one paragraph, happy? Good. Now, onto the real story, which I hope is at least better than afore mentioned autobiography. So yeah, a week ago today, May 13th, if you're not reading this the day I post it, a majority of my AP Environmental Science classmates, as well as a few kids from AP Biology, and two that aren't in either, went on a trip to the big city of Boston, MA. 'Twas quite a trip, I'd say. There were 45 of us, including five chaperones (Teachers and Parents included). I'm not sure what exactly it was about the trip, but for some reason, it's changed me a bit, or my thinking, or both. Like I said, I'm a moron, I might not have changed at all, and just felt compelled to write something. Hell if I know now, but you can analyze it however you'd like. But something just clicked in my head on the long 10-hour ride home from Boston back to Rochester (Which is an hour east of Buffalo for those who don't know where the hell I'm talking about.), while I was listening to a song on a Treble Charger CD, if I remember correct. I'm sure 95% haven't heard of the guys, but that's the beauty of music, right? There are always diamonds in the rough, although this diamond shattered when the band broke up recently. That, and they're a Canadian punk/rock band. But they were quality while they lasted. Anyways, enough tangents already, let's get back on topic.
There's not a whole lot more to say, I guess. I hope you enjoy this story I'm going to tell, because I enjoyed it while it occurred, or else I wouldn't be typing on this computer right now. But, whenever the heck I get back to the computer, since my time is running out, I shall type up the next chapter, and the true beginning to my trip in Boston. Feel free to leave reviews, both good and bad, about the story (most importantly), trip (always nice to hear opinions on stuff like that), and I, myself (can't a guy hear what others think about him?).