Ideas

So I finally wrote down thoughts I had that I would like to blog about. Here is the first on the list:

This is a story. It is a sad and true story about my grade school experience. First, let's get something straight: I am ridiculously hypocritical here and I do not resent these people. Though I will say mean adjectives, do not be biased. Only I can do that. Anyway, when I was beginning 3rd grade, I was pretty psyched, to say the least. The first day, well, it was the first day of school. My teacher was showing us a puzzle and saying that we were all pieces and all that crap, when my mother and father checked me out.


We went to lunch at my favorite restaurant and my parents asked me about school. I told them it was fun. My mom asked me if I wanted to go to a different school. Somehow, I was convinced that playing the violin, learning French, and restaurant lunches outweighed wearing uniforms everyday and about 20 kids per grade.


So there I was, a student of John Hancock Charter School. This school had just started the year before, so all the kids in my grade were already friends. I, on the other hand, was friendless. Except one. Jared Larsen was my friend. He was everyone's friend. I loved being his friend. There were twenty-two other kids in my class. I did not fit in. I was nervous, so I tried to fit in. 3rd grade was the best of my four years at John Hancock. I had a good teacher, my peers weren't as critical, and the lunches were awesome. 


Fourth grade is where it really turned for the worst; Jared left. His departure made me cry for weeks. I had a few more classmates, but the were fitting in just fine. My peers were not good to me. If one person was mad at me, the whole group was mad. I couldn't find a niche, so I got angry. If you know me, you know I am not an inherently person, so I want you to understand my full meaning when I say that I got beyond angry. I fought every month and got detention oftener. I was never happy. I dreaded going to school knowing that those kids would be there. That is how it went in fifth grade, too. Also, the school food was worse.


Sixth grade was not fun. There were many jerks in my class that I could not understand. They seemed to hate me just because I am me. The girl I thought was cute put a "restraining order" on me, with the jerk kids on the jury. I ripped it up. That year the fights were more common. I cannot remember a day I did not go to the bathroom to cry. The food sucked. I wanted to leave. No one enjoys going to a place everyday full of people who hate you. I wanted, nay, needed, to leave. So the next year, I became a Viking. My life is now awesome.


LESSON: If you aren't a Viking, everyone will hate you.


So I have Spring Break in 17 hours and 25 minutes. I am hating every second of delay.

Here is some fun stuff: