It’s Good to be Back


It’s been a rough few months. School is driving me to the brink of insanity, my home life has been a little rocky, and – to top it all off – I got played by some arrogant, smooth-talking, French  foreign exchange student.

But that’s a whole different story (which I will probably end up ranting about at some point…so let me apologize in advance for that).

My life has been a mess – a hot mess for the sake of description.

It’s my junior year of high school and, for some ungodly reason, my school loves to shove every piece of college information down your throat until you’re past choking and near suffocation. Unfortunately, I don’t handle stress too well and I blacked out way back in October but somehow, everyone else around me is still completely alert.

College application processes, college representative visits, college campus tours, college planning programs.


I used to love hearing that word but now I can’t stand it. College is an extended 4-letter word to me. Sure, I’m excited to actually experience going to school and living on my own, but the process leading up to it shall forever drive me mad. It haunts me in my sleep and during class, hangs over my head like a guillotine.

It’s a graphic smilie, but fairly accurate, isn’t it?

And on the 27th, I get my first ACT score back, which is basically the test that determines what college I get in to…so that oughtta be interesting. People at my school aim for perfect scores and curse themselves when it comes back as a 30…I seriously have to restrain myself from choking them out since my hopes are set on a high of 24.

It lowers my self esteem and at the end of the day, I go home feeling like a complete doofus who can’t do anything with her life and will live in a cardboard box, even though I know that’s not true.

I’ve learned to just take it one day at a time and not compare myself to other people…I’ve even taken up yoga to relax myself in the evenings before I sleep so the next day, I awake with an open mind and a fresh start. All I need now are some candles or incense (which I doubt my parents would ever let me burn considering I have the memory and attention span of a squirrel).

But now I have some new stress…I have to write this stupid article for my stupid journalism class on this stupid (yet rather attractive) foreign exchange student and it’s just really stupid. The whole situation I got into is stupid. And I’m stupid for believing his lies.

…Stupid, stupid, stupid me.

I found out our school is currently hosting 4 foreign exchange students and – being my weird, curious self – I decided to profile all of them for my school’s newspaper. I wanted to write about all of their interesting background stories, where they came from, why they’re here, and stuff like that so I decided to start out with the French guy.

Big mistake.

Reason #1: He’s very – and, good grief, do I mean VERY – attractive. In fact, he’s so attractive that my interview notes are only 5 measly bullet points when they should’ve been a full page…yeah, my teacher will NOT be very pleased when he sees that.

On to Reason #2: We were flirting and I completely failed to keep it professional. I blame myself for this part because I should’ve just kept my own feelings out of it but he was interested in me. For once in my entire life, a guy – AN ACTUAL GUY- was interested in ME. Not talking about himself, the 1,000 people he talks to a day, or his workout routine, but asking questions about who I am and where I came from. That’s never happened to me before (sadly). I don’t get asked out and I’ve never have a boyfriend so this was a huge milestone of my short, loser-ish, high school career! So I went along with it.

Ready for the kicker? Reason #3: HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND. Now, before you jump to conclusions and call me a home-wrecker, he referred to her as a “friend”. I would’ve given him the benefit of the doubt that he didn’t know the correct English term for “girlfriend”, however, when you call the 10 other people you’ve talked about your “friend”, my mind isn’t going to hear her name and immediately make that distinction between her and the rest of them.

How did I find out? Facebook. Hah-hah, funny story: they made it “Facebook Official” literally a week before my interview with him so it was right there at the top of his page.

DO NOT send me flirtatious text messages, DO NOT flirt with me during a professional interview, DO NOT ask me if we “could do this again sometime”, and certainly DO NOT, DO NOT, DO NOT call your girlfriend your “friend”.

Moral of the story: I hate writing this article and this stupid French kid. I can’t wait to turn this assignment in after winter break and have him outta my life for good.

But this marks the end of my valley and my life is ready to start progressing upwards and it begins today with this blog post. I’m finally gonna get back into writing and purge my life of the constant negativity that’s been in it through blogging and Word Documents.

Come on life…hit me with your best shot.




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