I recieved a message this week --a rather unexpected message. "Anyone feeling old enough to call a reunion?" It was sent by a girl, who I went to school with for five years. When she left in seventh grade, she wrote me a lengthy letter letting me know she no longer wanted to be friends with me and not to try to keep in touch with her. Sometime during this past school year, she found me on facebook. We chatted once just after we added each other, and zip nada zilch after that.

This message was sent to some of the few people who comprised our fourth grade class. Why she wants a fourth grade class reunion I will never know. But hers the thing, most of the people who are invited left the school hating my guts. What can I say? I'm a very blunt and honest person --maybe even a tad hot-headed--, so rubbing people the wrong way was inevitable. I haven't talked to anyone who left well . . . since they left.

I have to admit I'm a little intrigued by this: Why not show off what you've got now? You're different. No one's seen you in years. Of course, I have to realize I'm still stuck at the school they've left, and what makes me think any of them have changed what they felt about me?

At first, no one responded to the message, so I thought I was in the clear. *Phew* No one wants to see each other. But now there've been a couple responses, and (what do you know) they're all for it. Except you get the nice little comments such as "I've been doing my best to block it out." The girl saying that means her years at my school.

I didn't want things to get to this point so soon. In the words of my dad, "You're in a funk. What's wrong?" I paste a smile on my face and assure him that I'm just fine. No need to worry. Or is there? I've been really angry lately: Angry at everyone. Mostly at my parents though. It all started with me wanting to wear a pair of shorts; my dad almost had a heart attack when I was about to walk out of the house. This is when I discovered that having long legs are, in fact, a curse. So it looks like I'll be wearing jeans all summer. I'm just waiting for them to finally decide that skinny jeans are no longer appropriate attire as well. I don't see what the issue is; it's not like I'm going out of the house looking like a total slut or something. But my dad's reason is, "I'm doing this to protect you and your reputation." Eventually I'm might accept that. I know he probably means well.

Since then it's been a constant battle with everyone --or just my family. I miss being around everyone: I don't want to sit at home and just hang around the family. At the end of school, I thought it would be great not to have to see anyone until September. Wrong. The first week of summer break I spent everyday with friends from school. Now I'm look ahead thinking this is the only month I have to hang out with everyone. Starting in the middle of July, I'm moving in with my grandparents because of I job I got. I'll maybe come home on weekends. That really depends on whether or not I get a part time job at this kennel my sister works at. It already feels like I have to say good bye to everyone, and summer is ending.

Am I in a funk? Definitely yes.

Why am I angry? I really have no clue. I don't know. Is it possible to just be angry --to be sad for no reason? I think I'm using most of what I said at the beginning of this blog as an excuse, or using it as fuel for a fire that was already there. I've got to get over this somehow because it's now ruining the good start to my summer.


__________________________________

That was me a couple days ago. I've forgotten how bad my mood swings can be; now I'm happy and up beat and loving most everything. One thing I realized after I snapped out of my funk is how overrated 18 year old rebellion is. Do we expect anything to be accomplished by it? If you do, I'm sorry to say nothing ever is accomplished by being rebellious --at any age really.

My dad recently told me a story about this girl, who was angry at her parents because they wouldn't let her go out late at night. She went to her friend's house hoping to stay the night, but her friend's mother told the girl to go back home and, basically, obey her parents. The girl left her friends house with no intention of going home. In the neighborhood, she ran into the wrong guy: The girl ended up dead. Yes, this doesn't happen every time we're rebellious, but this is the exact thing our parents are trying to protect us from. So my not being able to wear shorts is probably one of the best things my parents can do for me.

This epiphany couldn't have come at a better time, but this doesn't mean I'm going to be the perfect kid in the meantime. I still have a long way to go, and I'm ready to work at changing. If I want to be considered and treated like an adult, I'm going to have to act maturely. Rebellion only shows your parents and the people around that you actually immature.

I don't mean after you die, but more after you leave high school. This is the summer of my Senior year, and I have to face all sorts of questions. The biggest one is: How will I be remembered? I have some big shoes to fill thanks to the Class of 2009. I love them to death and wish they weren't leaving, and, yet, I'm eager to take my place as a Senior. Not only am I eager, but I'm also scared. A lot of change has to take place over the summer. I have to abandon my "Loner" status. I can't sit back passively and watch my Senior year go by without leaving my mark.

I now have to get to know everyone in the secondary. This means the annoying sevies and wedgies. I can't stand junior high immaturity, so we'll see how this goes. I have to get outside of my comfort zone and be a leader. It has pissed me off so much that M. (a girl in my class) has gotten all the attention. She's the go-to-girl. To be honest, no one really notices what I notice: Her whole show is somewhat fake. Now I didn't come on here to disrespect a classmate, but to tell you what I'm up against. I'm the scary, silent type. You see me walk down the halls, and I don't have a smile plastered to my face. When my face is relaxed, I look like I'm about to kill people. I can't really help that one. But that's what people assume: That I'm mad at everyone. They don't know me. So this summer is a perfect time to let the secondary get to know the real LonelyHeart. Well --they'll know me to a certain extent. No one really knows me. Not even M., who's known me for the past ten years.

But I don't want this year to be a big rivalry between M. and I. I don't want it to be that way; although, to some extent she's already made it that way. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?
My second concern is the Junior class --my sister's class. I'm not really concerned about her, but more three other girls in that class. They're the ones who will try to take over the Senior position, and that can't happen.

I'm just nervous about so much changing, and so quickly too. I have to do a complete 180 if this next school year is going to be my year. I'm excited and scared. Part of me says, "Bring it on," and part of me says,"Holy crap! What am I getting in to?" It all comes down to how do I want to be remembered. I want to be remembered as someone who was fun to hang out with, but someone you could turn to for anything. I don't want to be that person who people feel was just putting on a show: I don't want to be fake. I want other students to look at me and say that they were glad they knew me; that somehow I changed they're lives a little bit. I want so much from my Senior year.

How do I get it all done?