High School

High School....

Lets see...9th grade I was hit hard and made some mistakes. My GPA took a nose dive with 5 D's. in Algebra, Science, History, Spanish and American Lit. I didn't read. I didn't study. I was too busy with drama and scouting and of course, I had my first car. I just didn't have time for school after school. Mrs. O tried so hard to get me to a C and I ended up getting one in the end, even though I don't think I deserved it. She knew I had really tried my best. I had the process right...I just never go the right answer. 9th grade was the one year though that I took the 1 class that I actually use. Keyboarding. I learned to type 60 wpm that year and that skill is something I use every day and is invaluable to me now as an adult. I tell my students that often to show how important it is. I think I've convinced quite a few skeptical elementary students. I had my 1st real boyfriend this year. Robbie was a year younger than I was. We wrote long stupid notes to each other and passed them to each other as we passed in the hall. Things were going well until Heather's brother Brad let me know that Robbie was spreading rumors about thing we had done...The relationship ended pretty quickly from there. Another good friend of mine ended up dating him and kept it a secret for awhile. She thought I'd be mad if I found out, and when I did, I could have cared less.

10th grade I got my act together and did much much better. A's and B's and only a C in Spanish. I took Geometry with out Proofs with Mr. R. It was suggested that since I didn't do well in Algebra, I should take the easier Geometry. Well, that ended up not being the right choice. I was a 10th grader in a class with a lot of seniors that had to pass the class to graduate. I was the smartest person in the class and ended up tutoring most of them. Mr. R. came to depend on me. He was a pro at wait time. He would ask a question and wouldn't go on until it was answered. Well, I usually knew the answer, but eventually I got tired of being the smartest and I wouldn't raise my hand all the time. Sometimes though the wait time drug on...I'd be staring at my paper or book, but couldn't stand it any longer. I had to look up at Mr. R. As soon as I made eye contact, he knew I knew the answer. Sometimes he couldn't wait any longer either so he'd call on me anyway, or I'd give up and raise my hand. I think I might have been the only reason Mr. R. survived that year. Mr. R died a few years ago and I wish I would have had the chance to thank him for making me feel smart again and encouraging me to continue my math.

11th grade was the year I lost Heather. She didn't die. She didn't move. I just lost her. I tried so hard to hold on to our friendship. We just were heading in two different directions. No longer on the same path. For the next two years I didn't have a best friend. No one to really confide in. In many ways I was lost. I had a bunch of girl friends. Amy, Misty, Amber, Carrie, Breah, Dawn, Shari, Erin, Francine. They were never the same as the friendship Heather and I had though.

My senior was pretty uneventful. I went to homecoming dressed in my dad's suit with a friend who the day before had been dumped. I went to prom with my girl friends. I was that girl hoping to have a guy ask me, but of course, no one did.

High school was a time for crushes on Scott and Jira that I was too chicken to act on. It was also the time when Todd asked me out and after 2 days I was too embarrassed by the harassment my brother was giving me about getting a phone call from a boy, that I dumped him.

I joined speech and loved it. Went to speech contests. Got 4th at state. I wrote/recorded a speech for a local contest and my teacher Mrs. N. was 100% sure I had won. She even told my mom that she was sure I had won. When the results came back, I hadn't even placed. The whole class was amazed and Mrs. Nielsen pulled me aside sometime later and explained that she didn't understand why I hadn't won an apologized. I really wasn't all that crushed. Surprised, but not crushed.

High school was the time when my Spanish teacher accidentally had my poster for a poster that I had worked a gazillion hour on thrown away. The 2nd year after another gazillion hours, she forgot it at school and didn't remember until we were an hour away. I knew I shouldn't have trusted her, but she refused to let me take it myself.

High school was volunteering at the homeless shelter every Thursday night. High school was spending summers as a camp counsellor. Living in a tent. I wasn't around much for parties. Cruised a little. Just wasn't much to do in that small town. The movie theatre and skating rink had gone out of business. The bowling alley had burnt down.

For 4 years I was involved in every play that was produced. Practice or set work every night of the week till 10 and every Saturday that I wasn't busy with a scouting thing. My senior year I stared in our One Act. When I went to check the wall to see who was casted for what part I was obviously excited to get the part. Mr. A. was standing there. He quietly said to me, "You know why you got the part?" I said no. He said, "You were the only one bitch...I mean witchy enough for the part." The sad part is I took it as a compliment. After 4 years of many hours together, I was pretty close to Mr. A. We performed the one act locally and at a few contest. We performed at the state thespian conference and were even invited to perform at the National conference in Indiana, but the other co-star was leaving for the military right after graduation, so we had to decline the invite.

I'll never forget one night the only people working on the set was Mr. A, myself and one other person. Mr. A asked me what I was going to do after high school and I said go to college. He asked me what I was going to be. I gave him my normal reply of "I don't know". You see, I had decided to become a chef, but very few people knew about it. I just don't think any of my classmates/teachers would understand my love for cooking, so I just thought it would be best if I just didn't tell anyone. He then asked me if I was just going to college to get my M.R.S. degree. I had no clue what he was talking about. He repeated himself again and when I still didn't understand he asked me if I was going to college to find a husband. I denied it. I told him the true reason I was leaving. Told him I had to get out of this town. Apparently he thought this was good enough reason, because he didn't say anymore. And that was probably my main reason for college. I had to get out of that small town.

But before I left, there was Tony. Tony was a Junior in College and wanted more than I was prepared to give him. When Tony couldn't wait, I decided I couldn't stand the town any longer so I packed my belongings and moved away.