Does anyone even read this anymore? I have no comments, so I can’t tell. I think Dad reads it, but it’s pretty sad if the only person who reads your posts are your parents.
I also think my title needs work. I don’t think anyone needs to know the date of which I wrote this.
Also, note to TL. Can you stop typing in bright colors? It really hurts my EYES.
Today, I ate breakfast. I got in a car. I got to a school. Today, I put on my beach hat since it was beach day, and they give out free tickets to whoever wears a beach outfit.
I had taped on a little sign on my hat. It said,” RAD BEACH DUDE.” Now, I realize, this was not a good idea.
I walk to my locker, and Nicole and Andrew are talking to each other. This was a typical sight. I’m pretty sure they like each other. Everyone knows that, and they pester Andrew and Nicole for it. Andrew’s face is the color of a sunburned pickle. (Editor’s Note: Nam is assuming that a sunburned pickle is red. He does not sunburn pickles in his front yard. He is not a lunatic. Sometimes.)
In ELA, the teacher rounds up the gifted kids and sends them to the gifted teacher. Actually, they didn’t really send us anywhere. They gifted place is our back table. Our school is too cheap to get a gifted room. Logan, a kid in my class, steals my super rad sunglasses. I thought Logan was a cool guy, so I think he should be arrested for this treason.
The gifted teacher takes my sunglasses AS IF IT’S MY FAULT. She doesn’t give it back until she leaves. Good riddance.
Yesterday, the teacher made us write post-it notes and put them on at least one person’s locker. She said it had to be a person who had a locker next to ours. The person right of my locker is a new girl named Olivia, but I don’t know her well, so I ruled her out. The person on my left is Nick. I don’t know Nick well, but I think he likes rock n’ roll, judging by the pictures in his locker. So I wrote this:
If you believe it, you can be it.
Just like that guy you have taped in your locker.
-Nam
We go to science class next. I look at my plant terrariums, and the grass is still growing rapidly. I think my beans died, though. Or maybe they died because they were competing with my grass for water. My beans are suckers if they were beaten by the grass. Then our teacher makes us write some notes about our assigned country. Our country was America. My team had me research clothing and home styles. Sounds easy right?
Nope. The internet is useless. Sure, if you want to figure out two plus one, they will give you a good answer. But if you want something specific? You are going to have to go through tons of research. After three hours, I still only had about a solid page. It was about the history, development, and origins of clothing. Here is an excerpt from my writing. Not sure if it’s exactly what I wrote.
As years passed, people started to question social standards and conformity. Women started refusing makeup and walked barefoot. Men wore long hair and had buttons bearing the peace sign. These people were called “hippies”.
I wonder if that’s insulting. Well, the science teacher liked it, so I don’t care.
During activity, this jerk named Jack steals my hat. I beat him up (Editor’s Note: Nam is too weak to actually beat someone up.) and took back the hat. The paper saying “RAD BEACH DUDE” fell off, so I threw it away.
After lunch, I go to math class. There, the teacher hands out talent show sheets. I wondered if I had and good talents. I would ask Khang, but he’d just say no.
During art class, I drew a cake. Then I sat and did nothing for half an hour because I didn’t know we were supposed to be customizing our cakes.
In gym, we have to play that Spud game again, but outside. I walk upstairs after gym. It should be criminal to make a child walk upstairs after gym. I walk to the sidewalk and wait for my car. But then the monitor is like, “Back up.”
So I back up.
She spreads out her arms and starts moving forward. “Back up,” she says.
I back up some more and trip over a girl. I guess that’s why girls hate me. Oh well.