I’d have to say the most interesting class was my American Government class in the afternoons. I think a month after school began, a girl who soon became my friend, joined the class. She was very soft spoken at first, but she loved to talk.

It took me about a week to fully understand what she’d said because of her Asian accent. But, everyday in that class, we’ve always talked. We’d pick each other for partner and group projects. She had become my best friend in that class.

When she met my other friend, accepting her to hang out with us, went pretty smooth. I didn’t realize they were friends until my friend introduced me to her back in ninth grade. So, the two friend group quickly became the three of us. We’d sit together during lunch and during the assemblies the school had.

The only thing that shocked me about my Asian friend, was when she told us, she likes to be right. My friend and I tried telling her, it’s impossible and everyone’s wrong at some point. She just ignored us.

Between she and I, there were a few moments where I did get angry. But, I held my words in to prevent myself from possibly hurting her feelings. These moments were outrageous, but I did try to keep my calm.

I can recall we had learned about the cosine, sine, and tangent of degrees and radians in our Trigonometry class. We both had different teachers, and I took that class, one class before she did.

Passing through the hallway to get to our third class, we’d meet up and talk. I told her I had a quiz on learning that concept in class and she had to take her quiz that day too. As a good friend, I told her not to worry.

So before going to class, I told her to keep studying. After she took the quiz, she seemed upset because the problems were “out of order.” I kept telling her to do the ones she knew first, but she walked off and ignored me.

My favorite time was talking about Poptarts. Her Physics teacher had a drawer full of Poptarts and other snacks. There was a time, where I had almost filled my school week by eating Poptarts. And my friend was worried about how much sugar I was eating daily with those Poptarts.

Well, I still bought a package of two. The next day, I brought them with me, since I didn’t finish eating them. We’d always sit in the classroom and wait until lunch was over to head to our Government class. It was so quiet in that room because a few students were working on a project.

All of a sudden, I hear “That’s what I’m talking about.” I noticed the voice was hers, but was confused on what she meant. We weren’t talking in the first place! But, she was upset that I had seemed to “disobey” her about not eating anymore Poptarts.

The last straw came toward our “Seniors Last Assembly.” Of course before going to the Government class, the three of us would hang together. I know I had upset the Asian friend earlier, so I felt that after the assembly, she’d forget about it.

I met the two friends walking outside from the library, which I thought was odd because we’d always sit in a classroom. My friend tried to ignore me then the other spoke up and talked about something to bring us all in.

Our Asian friend soon spoke up about a situation with two other friends of hers. She told us that one of the girls, had a boyfriend and a certain hairstyle. The other friend tried to copy her with this hairstyle and found herself a boyfriend.

Althought they might have fought, they still remained close friends. After telling us the story, she asked for our opinion on how’d we take that. She said she’d be pissed and start a fight with someone who did that.

The other friend said something similar but then said she wouldn’t care. When it came to my turn, I had the same view – I wouldn’t care about how my friend looked similar to me. That seemed to have set off an alarm.

You wouldn’t have to guess who said “You don’t understand…” to me. Of course, “Ms. Right” wanted me to see the situation through her viewpoint, but I simply raised my voice a little, cut her off in midsentence, and said something like, I have my own opinion and no one will always agree with you.

That shut her up for a while. In class, she pretty much ignored me. Although she did bother me with her stares a few times, she never said much.

I never told his friend how she made me feel when we’d have our little disagreements. But, over MySpace I let her know. Now, we’re okay friends. I’m just glad she didn’t fight with me over not putting her as the number one top friend on MySpace. If that were to be the case… I don’t know what’d I do.

But, wow, Part Four coming soon.
Thanks for reading.

Well, I remember, two nights ago, my mom and I had talked about this for a while as we were laughing about other things. I guess it was true that that accident with my friend, growing up, did happen before going to kindergarten.

My mom said that it happened while I was going to daycare. At the daycare center, there were older kids who “took” me in and helped me become more outgoing. Maybe because of this action, I was a pretty good student in kindergarten.

But, I guess I still hated it when the surroundings would get quiet and my voice is the only one heard. I can recall a time in second grade, where the teacher would show us these “Problem Solver” cards. They were pretty large cards which showed a situation that had happened and the class would discuss it.

We sat around the teacher and talked about how the students were getting upset, I guess about not sharing certain objects with each other. The teacher called on me to say how they might have felt. I simply said, “frustrated.” My voice was quiet and I was a little scared.

Third grade was rather okay. Well, I still never liked sharing anything with the class – well, standing in front of them. I spoke more around with the people I knew. But, others, I just kept quiet. I can remember doing book reports as homework.

I never liked reading back then, so sometimes, I’d make up book names and author names. I had wrote that John McCain wrote some book on kittens. When the teacher saw that, she had asked me if that was true. I simply nodded. But, later, I had no clue that John McCain was a real person!

Surviving third grade without my best friend was unbearable. She didn’t move away, we just had to get separate classes. We had got in trouble as little kids sneaking from the patio into the window just to go to the bathroom. I still can’t remember who was the ringleader.

Fourth, fifth, sixth, and so on. Those years were nice. I became one who never stopped talking with that best friend of mine. Teachers would try to quiet us, but we knew we could get away with a whisper.

Ninth grade came. Which meant, no more best friend. We finally separated. We both went to other high schools. But we promised we’d stay in touch. Well, as long as she wouldn’t talk as much over the phone.

I was late to my first class, but during lunch, I met an old friend from the sixth grade. We ate together for a while, then she met other friends. Those friends took me in to their little circle of friends. I really liked how easy making friends was, that way. Not much work on my part.

I do remember when I had first spoke to one girl. I noticed her standing by my classroom door each morning. She came to the school in January and we became friends in March. We had a Physical Education class together.

Ever since, March of 2005, I think, we’re still friends today. She was pretty easy to talk to, and outgoing, like I once used to be. The only thing that surprised her, was a Hawk Nelson concert. I will never forget that day.

Hawk Nelson is a Christian pop/rock band from Ontario, Canada. On August 31, 2007, my uncle, my friend, and I went to see them after a baseball game. If you saw me there, you probably wouldn’t have recognized me by my screaming, singing, and jumping.

I think the thing that scared me was how I felt in all my classes. Not just the mixed up class in Algebra, where it was pretty much for the juniors, and there were two sophomores in it, including myself.

But, in every class I had, I felt that all eyes were on me. Whether I was sitting, or standing, or walking around. I felt that every action I did, the other students were looking, right at me. Even when I spoke. Well, sometimes they’d look, or look back at me; I’d still get nervous.

I can laugh at how that fear even made my grades drop. Just to be so afraid of turning in a paper into a basket. The getting up and the walking and the moving of my arm to place a paper in the basket. Sometimes, I do okay. But, I’d try to avoid it, and turn it in later. Perhaps after class? Yes, that’s what I did sometimes.

But, in the tenth grade, that bothered me, but not as much. I guess because the teacher wasn’t all that good and she lost respect with the rowdy class. I can recall writing about taking the final in my journal, and how I always wanted to speak my mind, but said, “I can’t.”

Which felt true to me, because I thought every word I’d said in that class – which was very little – would come out wrong and I’d be a laughingstock. But, then there came the senior year. That’s where I met another girl in my American Government class. One who looked so quiet and was very nice. But later, that had changed.

You’ll found out later in the Part Three blog. Thanks for reading!

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Let’s see… Almost all of my life I’ve lived in apartments. I remember, I think, back in elementary to 5th grade, I’ve lived closer to my school. For sometime in middle school, I’ve lived farther away from that same school in another apartment complex. I have a memory of living there – the first time it snowed in Tucson on a Easter Sunday! That and how I almost started a fire.

Then I believe for three years from sometime in 6th grade to a few weeks of my freshman year in high school, I’ve lived in my first house! We had pretty nice neighbors. The neighbors on the left of us went to the same church as us. On the other side was a nice family with a little boy. My mom’s old friend of hers lived next to them. He was married and had a son and a daughter.

Directly across from us, lived our neighbor on the left’s friend or some kind of relative. He was famous for his big parties, late night celebrations, yelling at night, and even attracting the police. Living on the west side, wasn’t bad, I thought. It was something I’d have to get used to. But for my mom it bugged her. I think the last straw was when a little girl wanted to play with me. My mother had said no on my behalf of doing homework. Later my mom was surprised to see all of her plants pulled up from the ground of our little rock yard!

The second house my mom and I moved into was near a bus stop I took to get to high school. I remember being nervous to sit on the bus. Especially near the window. I’ve always thought that the slightest touch near the window seat of my body would cause me to just fall out from the bus! But I’ve gotten over that within a few weeks.

Our new neighborhood was clean and pretty and small as well. It was on the east side of town, which my mom enjoyed. Peaceful. Quiet. Too quiet. When people would turn into the town homes, to get to our house, you’d have to turn immediately to the right. And the house on the corner to the right, would be the nosiest, sometimes.

Walking home from the bus stop one day, I’ve heard loud rock music coming from inside that house. Later in the week or within a few days, I saw two guys walking toward the neighborhood. They wore all black, with piercings, skinny jeans, and had that punk, kind of rock style wardrobe. I was shocked because I’ve never seen anything like that before in my life!

I can also remember when my mom and I were leaving for church one Sunday and we found an elderly woman in her driveway. She was laying conscious on the ground with blood trickling from her forehead. We got help and she told us what had happened. She was reaching down to grab the newspaper. She was walking with her “roller” walker and used both hands to try to pick it up. The woman was disappointed to have missed singing in the choir that day.

Well the last house, which is the third, I’m currently living in now. It’s rented from my pastor. And we’re 3 minutes away from church, which is pretty neat. It’s not perfect though. I’d say about once a week I’ll hear a siren from a ambulance/fire truck. And then almost everyday (with the change in climate) the ice cream lady’s VAN with it’s annoying music.

Another two bedroom house, with a few downfalls: one bathroom, no grass, and a large, horrible, rocky front yard. Prior to us living here, were an evangelist and her husband. They are my godparents who both go to the same church as us. The wife was going to preach a sermon on Sunday evening. Before getting into the message, most preachers usually have something to say.

I can recall how grateful she was that she and her husband have finally moved from the place we live in now. They’ve lived there for a little over 20 years. She said she didn’t have to worry anymore about cockroaches, spiders, and scorpions. When I heard the last creature, I sort of squirmed in my seat. I absolutely hate insects and any other dangerous creature.

But I haven’t seen any scorpions yet! That’s a good thing. But I did see something else though. My ferret named Nelson. He would jump side to side and bump into anything when he’d be in play mode. He left us one day. About a month ago. He slipped outside when our screen door was open. We know he wasn’t with us because not only did we not meet him in the bathroom for his daily drink of water, but because his waste was outside.

Today I think about my first pet, sometimes. I’ll have to get another one! Ferrets are cute, yes they can be stinky, but I felt he was a great pet for me.

Wow, what an amazing blog entry. I do think this was interesting to type about. Another writer’s block could be on the way!