For everyone who was picked last for kickball, for anyone who really, really hated middle school and went on to think that high school was NOT the best four years of your life, for anyone whose prom was not romantic and wonderful and full of mutual feelings of love, for those who sat in a diner on Friday nights because they had nothing better to do, I salute you.

Yes kids, this is the last entry I am going to write before I take off for college tomorrow. I don't know what I'm feeling; rather, there is this absence of feeling, like my body can't make up its mind. I keep flipping through all these memories in my head, all the tests I did poorly on and convinced myself I was too stupid to go to college, to the petty fights and lame school dances and summer vacations. I remember middle school and how much I wanted to shoot myself. I was frizzy, short, and pimply, and no one liked me. I wasn't even worthy of a second glance from members of the opposite sex. Perhaps the worst was gym class, when the teacher said, "Pick your own teams!" Everyone looked at each other and smiled and immediately started organizing themselves, but I just stood there, knowing no one wanted me on their team. Then at last when everyone had been squared away they would all turn to me and silently try to decide which team would have the misfortune of being stuck with someone who couldn't kick, couldn't catch, and would stand all the way in the outfield to avoid making contact with the ball or any human life. After an eternity some brave soul who was trying to spare my feelings would walk forward a bit and say, "You can come with us." I was saved.

I experienced many a day like that in the dreaded middle school, and when it was finally over, I couldn't believe how I survived it all. High school will be so much better, I thought.

Now it's all over, and even though high school wasn't too horrible, I'm glad to be out of it. I used to come home and bitch to my parents about how much I hated my life and they would always tell me that in ten years it wouldn't matter, but this was never any good because I felt like crap now, and who wants to wait ten years? But they were right, just like parents always are, and as I sit here I know I am glad to have done everything the way I did it. And all those times people talked about me and made fun of me and didn't want me on their kickball team, it doesn't matter now, because I'M GOING TO COLLEGE!


Woot.