I’m back. It has been a while, and I read some of my posts again. They were really stupid. I should feel ashamed, but I don’t. Maybe that’s part of going through puberty. You don’t regret anything you do anymore.
Speaking of puberty and growing up, I’m eleven now. Funny how time goes by quickly.
Today, Khang slept through my wake up call, and caused me to be nearly late. When I got to my locker, a red-headed girl was there and said, “You’re LATE.” What a jerk.
I got to class and the teacher handed out eraser brains. I mock a kid named Andrew. He is very egotistical, and easy to make fun of. He would be very pale if his face was not so red. Today I decide to sing and mock him.
“Andrew is all alone.
Got no friends to call his own.
So skinny that he got no bones.”
I fell a little bad about that now.
I spend the rest of my time throwing throwing my brain and catching it.
Then Nicole, the insecure girl, starts talking very loud and obnoxiously. Nicole used to wear cat ears to school because she is very insecure. She always draws anime and tapes it on her locker. One time I saw her get busted by some teachers. The made her open up her locker, and took some pictures because they were “offensive”.
We took our math test, and I’m pretty sure I did well. If I try to tell you what questions were asked, the State of Ohio will probably bust in and arrest me.
I should not of wrote that. I sound like a criminal.
In school, I’m pretty popular.
“But Nam,” you are saying. “You don’t have any friends. How are you popular?”
Well, it does not matter how many friends you have, but if people like you. Everybody is cool with me. Except girls. They hate me. You can never understand the stuff girls do. So I ask Nicole why.
She says that I am “shortish” and “weird”.
You cannot understand what a girl says, either.
Then my teacher made me read this incredibly dull book. I won’t name the name of the book, because that would be offensive.
Then we went to recess. Wait no, the teachers will arrest me if I say that. They call it “activity time.”
I run-wait no, I will be arrested for saying that too. I walked down the hall to the gym. My school cannot afford bad publicity.
In the gym, I meet Kevin, a fellow Asian. Kevin always wears the shirts and pants that the school sells, even though he hates school. Kevin says he thinks he looks like and average dude. I say he looks like a Muppet.
We go to the upper gym to play basketball. Not much to say about that.
Then we go to lunch. Now there is a popular table. I sit at the popular table. I sit on one side. The popular people sit on the other. Why don’t I sit with them? Because they are unbelievably stupid and annoying. Today, their topic was, “My crap is worth more than our life!” See what I mean?
I buy a basic lunch: bacon cheese burger, chocolate milk, and what I hope is processed fruit. If it is not, I will not be happy. I would hire a lawyer and sue the school.
After lunch, I go back to homeroom. We have to read that horrid book again. Halfway through, I feel something on my neck. The last time this happened, I flicked it off and the bee stung me. Me, not learning anything, flicked it off my neck. It landed on my desk, and I learned it was an ant. I wonder how many other ants were on me. I flick the ant off the table, and continued reading.
The period ended, and I went to science class. Our teacher made us get out our bones that we dissected from our owl pellets yesterday. We arranged them into skeletons, and left.
I think my math teacher is a feminist. She is always talking about girls taking less time to use the bathroom, boys getting fatter as the years pass, and boys always wanting to show off. We go to South Dakota’s practice site and do some math.
Next is art class. There I find Kevin and Luca. Luca is my neighbor. He thinks he look exactly like a kid name George. This is a lie. I would show you a picture of them if I could. George has blond hair; Luca has brown hair. George is taller than Luca.
For some unknown reason, the art teacher wants us to spend two weeks on drawing a cake. Women are weird.
Then comes gym class. We had to play a game called Spud. Search it up if you don’t know what that is. I’m not explaining. It involves throwing balls, yelling numbers, and running around like idiots. I wonder how this game was made.
We go home after gym, and now I’m here. I’m going to try to write daily now, but no promises.
Goodbye,
Nam