i haven’t slept since school started

I shared a big plate of carne aside fries from Cotijas  with a boy.

I raced today, didn’t get a medal, but it didn’t matter.

I haven’t been sleeping, even though I’m really tired.


The boy we can call Bear. I don’t know what Bear see’s in me. He was into this completely gorgeous, blonde (now blue haired), big blue eyes, perfect skin, girl who moved away a while ago, but is coming home at the end of senior year. I look nothing like her. He’s so perfect. This isn’t going to work.  I’m not Hannah.


Running sucked and it didn’t. I tried for the first mile, then the last mile I just set my own slow pace. Recovery is a long process. I don’t know if I’ll ever be where I once was.


I wish I could sleep. I’d feel better. My head would be clearer. I’d look a lot better.


I’m so tired during the day, but at night I’m completely restless.


I haven’t been writing much. There’s so much more to say.



stop drinking coffee at 4 in the afternoon

my eyes are incredibly heavy and my body is impossibly awake. It’s only 1034 pm on a Tuesday, but externally I’m crashing. I killed it at practice today. I ran my heart out. I was right up there with the Varsity pack as we ran through sprinklers while our coach timed us for our 800s. My sports bra was inside out. I’m on my period. But I made it a point to intentionally pass Ryan and Ethan. I felt vengeful. Z and I once spontaneously showed up at Ethan’s house bearing jello just so we could say hi to his dog.

Z’s fantasy:

We show up at Ethan’s house. We get to pet his dog. We all play cards. We make jello. We all hang out.

What actually happened:

Ethan is on his phone giving us one word answers to questions we ask him like: “Yes.” “No.” “Fun.” “Yeah.” Z and I sit on the floor patting his dog and talking to it. We sit there for about 15 minutes in an uncomfortable silence; I give up trying to break the ice. Ethan says he has to go to a robotics meeting, so we leave. Ethan hops in his car and we watch him drive away. Z checks her phone a couple minutes later and SnapChat tells her he’s back at his house. Must have been a quick robotics meeting. 

  I haven’t run in four days; legs are the painfully good kind of sore.

There is this one song I’ve been listening to on repeat: Sea Creatures by SOAK. I’m in love. It’s been filling my summer mornings and nights. I listen to it when I walk the two pups down the street. They’re really dumb. Sammy always ends up peeing on Oscar because Oscar likes to smush himself right up beside him.

In six days I’ll be in San Francisco.

A couple days ago I went to the mall with a friend I haven’t hung out with in three years. So much has changed with the both of us, I don’t think we’ll ever be as close as we used to be. Too much time has passed.

I got home at midnight from a party. We were playing UNO. It was brilliant.

I want to sleep.

I want chocolate.

Tomorrow is my permit test.


Reasons to never go outside: ever

Thursday I went to the movies with an odd number of people. Seven people. My friend Z hates odd numbers. I honestly didn’t think that she’d show.

I have another friend who I can always count on to be brutally honest. We were in my pool, resting our elbows on the blue tiles while our bodies dangled in the water, when I turned to her and said: “Hey, can I tell you something?”

“You’re bisexual.”



After lots of deep thinking and self analysis I realized:

She’s right.


But back to the point of this whole thing: it’s safer to stay inside on the computer than face the outside world with actual people.

I suck at hanging around large groups of people. ESPECIALLY if I am NOT close to you. If I’m not close to you, I’m just going to assume you hate me.

(what a whiny pessimistic teenager ^^^^^^^)

((you’re right))

Z, K, and I met up at Smashburger with two couples, and me being the quiet one-mostly stayed quiet. In situations like these I either feel really awkward and uncomfortable or I say something and get talked over because my voice is so soft. When I do talk: everything that comes out feels dumb and/or pointless or I start thinking lovely thoughts like:


Yay anxiety and depression!

The movie was Spiderman. The highlight of the movie was Z and I having a popcorn war in the theater.

When everyone was leaving, I saw N look over at me a bit strangely. A sort of: what are ya doing here look or maybe it was more of a: I cannot figure this weird quiet girl out who only talks to people she knows really well and sort of blows off other people.

I’m not trying to be rude, mean, or exclusive-just when I reach out-I feel like there’s already a wall up there. Like the other person already assumes I’m a waste of time. I know so many people who do, so what’s one more?

I have some issues.

But let’s talk about tonight. Tonight I went to a concert. I went to go see my friend’s ban play. K and I were laying out on the grass on top of this big purple blanket I brought, taking little sips of a cappuccino even though it was 5 pm. Bear had been texting me earlier that day. I have to admit, I was kinda excited to see him. We aren’t really close, but I’ves always wanted to be close to him. He’s a really sweet empathetic guy.

Bear and SeSe showed up, but by that time our blanket was crowded with Meg and her brothers friends. SeSe and I are not really friends. He’s the funniest. Life of the party. That kind of guy, but every time I look at him I remember how in the 7th grade he turned to me one day and said:

“No one is going to remember you. You’re so quiet.”

Thanks, I know.

So it was kind of awkward. We couldn’t really talk to the much. The music was really loud ( we were sitting closet to the stage) plus our backs were to them since there wasn’t enough room for them to sit by us.

SeSe only talks to me really when there is no one else better around. See I know this, because I know him. He wants to talk and flirt with the pretty girls. And I’m not a pretty girl.

I always feel like the outsider in groups. I just never feel like I fully belong there, and secretly I know that other people are wondering what the heck I’m doing there. I ask myself the same thing a lot.

Dancing was fun, even if you are a white girl with zero rhythm.

I just wish I didn’t feel so alien in my own body.

A boy from my school was staring at me at the dance floor, but I don’t think it was meant in an attractive way. Like I said: no rhythm. Like I also said: not pretty. I was sunburned today on my face too.

Bear and I hardly talked too. When everyone was splitting up after the last song was played at 9:30 I just turned to him with a smile and said: “Bye.”

That was about it.

We talked a bit at Subway, but mostly K and I just talked to each other. Or Z. Or we kinda just listened in silence.

We’re both socially awkward.










11:42 pm


I’m laying on the couch, downstairs.

I can’t sleep.

It’s 11:45 now.

I just snuck upstairs and made myself a cutie and peanut butter snack. I was extra quiet, and I did it all in the dark. I accidentally grabbed Dad’s peanut butter, Jiff, instead of my regular one. I knew it was Jiff by the smell. Sweet, sweet, chemically, plastic. I stealthily crept back in the cupboard in search of my all natural one.

We have a large glass window upstairs that pretty much covers our entire wall. I could see the slough from my house, my old middle school, tons of apartments all lit up like it was Christmas, Seaworld, the moon, I could see flashing colors of cars driving by; the world at night is a lot more colorful than it is during the day, or at least I think so. I felt oddly safe eating my cuties and peanut butter with a fork in the secret cover of complete darkness. It felt like I was the only person awake in the world right now. A lovely thought.

Hello friend

It’s me

Do you remember me?


It’s 12:06 am.


From rapunzel to alice in wonderland


Higher self: Who do u think u r?
High self: U can’t post twice in a day!

HS: U annoyed the world enough today, my friend. Just go back to alternating between watching “Reign”, reading “Eat, Pray Love”, and wearing your pajamas.

Me: No I really want to blog. Because my life is just so incredibly interesting and this helps me feel less lonely. Plus isn’t everybody interested in the life of a seventeen year old girl who mostly just goes to school, procrastinates too much, does homework until midnight, freaks out about the future, can’t afford college, & worries about everything?

HS: Lol guuurl

HS: U got some problems


The other day my friends’ and I were discussing what disney princesses we would be. S would be Jasmine, for obvious reasons. A would be Ana from Frozen, E would be Mulan because she does jiu jitsu and is badass, J would be Belle, and I am Alice in wonderland.

Who isn’t a princess, but that’s kind of the whole point.

Flashback to when I was thirteen discussing disney princesses with a “supposedly” friend. We walked every morning to school together, along with our old friend Scout. This girl, let’s call her Em, said that she was Sleeping Beauty ( I remember feeling disappointment because I’d secretly wanted to be Sleeping Beauty), Scout was Pocahontas, and I was Rapunzel-because I was “locked up in my own life”. I remember letting this sink in and then-

“Wait-what? What do you mean by ‘locked up in my own life’?”

She gave me an incredibly vague answer, but I could see it on her face. Oh sweetie. You’re just so naive, not so subtle, always rambling about unimportant things, you don’t know what you’re doing honey; You just don’t get it like I do. You’re not really “here”. 

And no, this is not me assuming anything. She used to say things like this to me. That’s why she was a “supposedly” friend. Back hand compliments. Snide to point out that she was in a few higher classes than me. I didn’t know as many things as she did. I was just annoying and in the way. I know all of this, and I can’t help but say I was a tiny bit relieved when she moved away. She didn’t like me that much.

Now I’m Alice in Wonderland. Alice was also off in her own fantasy world, curious about everything, small, like a little girl, & a dreamer. I’d rather be her than Rapunzel.

It’s true, I have to admit. One foot on Earth, the other in space. I often mix my fantasies with reality-and I prefer it that way. Call me a dreamer, call me a fool, but I’d rather be ‘up there’ then ‘down here’.

What the hell does it mean to look like a jennifer ?

The school nurse keeps on thinking my name is Jennifer.

I asked my friends: “Do I look life a Jennifer?”

S: Yes

K: I can see it

M: Totally

N: Yeah

J: Nope

Hopefully we’re talking about Jennifer Lawerence right?

I saw the school  nurse later at Pure Thai. My Dad picked me up at lunch to take me home. I’ve got a stuffy nose and sore throat. No fever, but I felt oddly warm. I asked him if we could grab some Thai food on the way home, and the nurse was there waiting to pick up some fried rice. I’d seen her just about fifteen minutes before hand so it was a little awkward to say the least. We all stood together and made small talk. She’d told me she’d seen some students on her way over here, but she pretended not to see them for peace of mind. I wonder if she thought I was lying about being sick just so I could eat some Pad Thai at my house.

And today I’m home listening to Bored by Billie Eilish. Except I’m not bored. I’m enjoying Netflixing episode after episode of Gossip Girl, and laying curled up in my bed.

My teacher slipped me on a note on Monday telling me to “Find my voice” during our class discussion about “East of Eden”. I didn’t say anything during the discussion. Public speaking really freaks me out. I know that I could speak up, if I really had to, but I choose not to. I feel like I’ve disappointed her. Today was supposed to be another class discussion on it, but here I am.

Also there’s a race today. J would have actually been there since her sister’s running. It would have been fun to hang out with her and A. I can’t see myself sniffing and coughing through the two mile though.

Monday night A texted me that she was coming over. It was 8:30. I sent back: Ok! You ok? Immediately she called me. She was crying onto the phone that she was with her boyfriend and they were stopping by my house. Several scenarios flew through my mind: parents getting a divorce, cat died, her boyfriend and her are splitting, something happened to her brother….

I sat outside of my house and waited. I vaguely saw them walking down the hill in the dark; I ran over to meet them. A smiled, but she had tears in her eyes. I gave her a hug and she brokenly exclaimed that Chika had died. Chika is the cat. Her first and only pet. I held her and told her I was sorry. Me, T, and A started to walk. T was holding her hand, my arm was around her shoulder. We went to the park and talked. I don’t think anything I said was really making her feel better. She kept apologizing for her eyes welling up and for pulling me out of my house. That’s my best friend for you; always apologizing for things she doesn’t need to be sorry for. It was a sad night.


This Saturday I’m going over Steve’s house for the first time. I don’t know what to expect. Apparently Saturday Steve and my Mom are dining with my doctor (her boss) and husband. So my sister and I will stay alone at his house. It’s kinda weird that it’s only going to be the second time I’ll be seeing him and I’m already “moving in” to his house. I don’t know. We’re going to some country club on Sunday for lunch? My Mom kept reminding me on the phone to

“Make sure you’re back at your Dad’s house by 12:30 because I have a very very important and expensive hair appointment at 2.” 

She keeps calling me and warning me about it. Yes Mom I get it. I will hopefully be back at 12:30 from the refugee center, but no offense, it’s a lot more important than the grey hairs you’re getting highlighted. Okay?


I’m feeling kinda lonely right now. I wish I had someone to cuddle with. That’s so cheesy oh my goodness. I’m watching too many rom coms. Help me.

Procrastination at it’s finest, The city of San Fran, & 2 am phone calls

I have math homework to do, half a book of East of Eden to read, two chapters of APUSH to read, essay questions,; to make it short: a whole lotta stuff. And I have all of tonight, and all of tomorrow. Except all of today all I’ve accomplished to do that’s even close to school related is look at my math homework. (Read: LOOK AT IT), and read 30 pages of E & E.

I hung out with M for a bit.

Last night, I swear to you, I planned on doing some actual work. Some family drama went down, I got a little dramatic, I admit, so I went over to Z’s house to vent. How many friends do you have that you can just call, and they come home to listen to you, then go back to a bonfire?

I love her.

Kahlil called me last night at 9. I was in bed, reading E of E, getting ready and cozy for an early night of bed. This entire week I’ve been waking up at 6am on A’s brothers couch, going out and exploring San Fran and colleges, and returning late at 10:45 or 11. So I was ready for a nice night of purple flannel pajamas. I looked at my phone, (the reason of my procrastination….problems, along with the computer ((the computer that I type on as we speak & Netflix on too)), and answered. We do this thing where we call each other out of the blue and catch up, not talk for many months, then do that whole thing again.

Everything we talk about is just a big soup of weird, funny, life things. I can’t say anything specific, because nothing ever was.

Weird thing: but Friday at the store I was buying some weird organic dairy free juice (wow girl, so ironic. You bought this after you had cheese and crackers, but now you’re dairy free?) and as I was walking down the aisle with my earbuds in some man saw me and said: “Clear the runway! Little girl coming through!”

Little girl? How old do you think I am dude?

According to a lot of people: young. I’ve got a baby face, and I’m short. Everybody exclaims from time to time: “You’re so cute!!!!” when I don’t even know why ? Or how?

I thought I was going to write more about San Fran and such, but I’m getting a bit tired. I will finish this episode, then I swear to God I will almost finish E of E. And maybe call Kahlil back, because he called me again.

Olive Oil in my hair/Kansas City in my earbuds

Wednesday 3/22/17 11:41 am 

I’m sitting on the bathroom floor right now with a shower cap on my head and some thick sticky olive oil smothered all over my hair…

A bitch gave me lice.

I hug too many people. It’s a problem. I hug my friends, I hug my English teacher, I hug my family (sometimes). I shudder to think about how many people I’ve infected. Or how many people infected me. The ultimate question of WHO DONE IT !!?!? is impossible to answer.

Thursday 3/23/17 

I contemplated skipping school today. I know it’s paranoia and all the lice are gone (I washed my hair with QuitNit 3 times, used dishwasher soap, olive oil, an evil small comb, blow dried and straightened my hair), but my head feels itchy still. Even though there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, there. I can feel the ghosts of the dead parasites crawling on my head.

I admit. The track meet may have had a tiny, really really small, slice of a reason on the pizza of Don’t Go To School Today That’s A Good Idea.

But I did.

And I’m proud. 6:21 on the mile? Not bad for someone who’s still trying to recover from sophomore year. Freshman year I was one of the best on the team with a 6:01 mile, Sophomore year was just, well, embarrassing. This year? I’m getting there. I died a little inside on the two mile though.

My sweet friend ,Z, came to the meet. I love her. She came to my last XC race and brought me some pasta she had cooked because she knew I’d be hungry. IF THAT’S NOT TRUE FRIENDSHIP I DON’T KNOW WHAT IS.

I walked home, got frustrated at my Dad for only saying this when I came in the door (tired, sweaty, unbelievably tired):

“Go do the dishes.”

It’s never: “How’d it go?”
It’s never: “How are you?”

“How was your day?’

“Wish I could have been there!”

“Good job!”

“How was school?”

It’s either:

A) Do the dishes

B) I noticed a sock on your bedroom floor this morning

C) Get your laundry out of the dryer

He doesn’t care, and he doesn’t bother to pretend to be interesting in anything I do anyway. It’s okay. I’m over it.

Friday 3/24

I met a cat named Knives. No lie. I can imagine all sorts of fun that could be had with a cat named Knives.

(Holding Knives) “You guy’s I’ve got Knives!”

“Would you like to meet Knives?”

“I like Knives.”

“I love Knives.”

Ariel and I buried our feet in the wet sand and watched the ocean water after we had our fun with Knives. I was happy our coach sent us on a beach run. Nobody else actually went in the water but me. And when I say in I mean completely under. Everyone was worried about getting their hair wet, but I just dunked under that freezing cold water and came up for air. I feel alive in the cold. I love it as much as I love Knives.

I went to the beach a second time that day with K, J, and A. We had to cross many cliffs to get down to the water. I was wrapped up in my fuzzy red heart blanket because the wind was pretty brutal. I looked like a weird burrito type thing, but I was warm. The waves down there were a lot harder and a lot more dangerous than the ones at the other beach. We’d kneel on the sand and wait to see who’d get knocked down first by the biggest waves. We found sand crabs in the dirt. I went under the water a few times, but I was extremely cautious. The tide was high and I couldn’t see the rocks, but I knew they were around where we were.

After we got tired of this we walked 0.9 miles to StreetCar Merchants of Fried Chicken, Doughnuts & Coffee. It took us half an hour to walk 0.9 miles. That’s just sad. A and I belted out songs the whole way: “Wrecking ball”, “Don’t Stop Believing”, “Hello”, “We’re All In This Together”; J didn’t sing but K joined in. The pedestrians were highly amused, which just made us turn it up a notch.

I got a Cafe Au Lait, the only coffee I get besides a Hazelnut Latte, along with J & K. A felt like some hot chocolate (though to be honest, that girl already runs off sugar).

Saturday 3/25

I was supposed to drive up to San Francisco today with a friend, but it’s been changed to tomorrow. Gives me more time to pack though. Today at this outdoor hiking clothing store my Dad goes to to get this special grey shirt with “special buttons” (???) (even though he doesn’t even hike) the cashier man made an interesting comment. He asked us if we wanted bags, we said no (they cost 10 cents a bag, usually) and he said: “Are you sure? We have….paper bags….” (pulls out a paper bag, with flourish, and a deep voice). I blinked. He said:
“I was channeling my inner James Bond…”

Me: “This paper bag, should you choose to accept it…”

Nobody laughed.

I got another Cafe Au Lait today. I drank it at 3pm at the mall. Which explains why I’m writing all this at 1:24 am on Sunday 3/26. At 7am sharp I’m being picked up to begin the drive down to San Fran. I’m bringing my notepad to document more interesting stuff.

As of now caffeine runs in my veins, Kansas city in my ears- listen to it please. I beg of you.

Juicy Thoughts


I’m too tired right now to do anything except sip some Green Easy Cold Pressed Juice in a coffee shop (how very Californian of me), stare out the window, or pick up where I left off in “Eat, Pray, Love” . I’m the master at letting all the “important” shit wait until the very last possible minute. Tonight I’ll pack it all in: AP English, Honors Chem, Math, and I’ll watch a video on the APUSH chapter I didn’t read so I can do all the essay questions.

Productive, no?

Too many things have happened this weekend, so I have to write about it before it all slips down into the forgotten memories vortex. Then I can go back to staring out the window listening to Staligia- Heaven + Mimosas and quietly observing people in their cars.

Let’s start with Friday. I was pulled out of Track early so I could get my butt home, shower, and get ready to go on a boat with my Mom, her boyfriend, the boyfriend’s granddaughter, and the boyfriend’s daughter’s friend. My Mom advised us to dress warmly, and gave us these fluffy down jackets Steve had bought for us. Mine was red. The captain of the boat was named Brock. He looked just like my best friends older brother. Those same “italian liquid brown eyes”, the crooked nose, the tan. I almost called him Noah. Their boat looked just like Ava’s too. The deck of it was white, they had a bean bag up at the bow (is that what you call it? The front?), they had a little caved in area that had seats and cup holders and steps that led to a small little cabin inside complete with a kitchen, bathroom, and little sitting area. Steve brought fancy champagne from France for Mom and him, and sparkling apple cider for all of us other apple cider addicts. There was also little cheese, cracker, and salami plates for all of us with Italian goat cheese, Italian gouda cheese, and a bunch of Italian salami. I feel as if it was a sign that for sure Brock was an Italian-just like Ava, and Noah. (Okay so Ava isn’t really Italian. But she grew up there. And she’s got the dark eyes, dark hair, and a sense of style). My Mom was embarrassing to be around on that boat. She was really playing up the whole Australian thing. She was trying to impress Emily (the granddaughter) and Maddy (the roommate), except she just came off as arrogant and self absorbed. Steve said something along the lines of: “Australians are the kindest people”. And she went from zero to a hundred (real quick):

Yes it’s true! Us Australians are so nice. I’m so nice and kind. All my patients love me. (insert really wide smile here) In fact, after meeting me, some of my patients have actually gone to Australia just because of me! Everybody loves me! I’m so kind! I’m so nice! I’m so sweet! I was captain of the tennis team in high school! 

Yeah, okay.

Her eyelashes were extremely long that day. Steve told me he had Mom go get them done. They were practically were grazing her eyebrows. Her nails and toenails were cherry red too. Steve said he needed to “spoil her” (oh sweet pickles, is it possible for her to get any more spoiled than she already is?) Her laugh was so loud too. And she kept smiling. Really fakely at everyone. With her ultra white bleached teeth. And she called everyone: “sweetie”, “dearie”, “darling” in a really obnoxious whine. I can only take so much of my Mom in small doses.

My Mom is so thin. She looks like a stick. At the restaurant afterwards she split some Ahi stack with Steve, and that’s it. She didn’t eat any of her platter on the boat because she “had a big lunch”.  I know my Mom. A “big lunch” for her would be a grapefruit or something small and silly like that.

I know, I know. I’m ranting about my Mom. How could I do this to the women who gave birth to me? Well the woman who gave birth to me is also the women who almost killed me because she was too vain to gain weight and continued starving herself during pregnancy.

Don’t get me wrong. She’s not all bad. She has her kind moments, where she’s actually “real”, but lately I have only been seeing the fake version of her.

It was a little hard to relate to Emily and Maddy. They were both kind, southern Texas girls, and Emily had interesting stories about when she went to France, but a little of the awkwardness was there. The age difference between all of us was pretty great.

Side note: There’s a old man across the street right now with headphones on dancing at a street corner. I usually see him with the track team when we are sent on a beach run. He sings too.

I liked sitting on the bean bag though. I could look at the water all day. It may have been cold out there, but it was so beautiful too. It was a cloudy day, but my kind of day.


Mom said she couldn’t go to my end of the year Leukemia and Lymphoma Society banquet because she was too busy with Steve, Emily, and Maddy. Honestly, I was a little hurt, but I shrugged it off and told myself it didn’t matter. My Dad didn’t go either. He and my sister hit the road early in the morning to drive up to the desert and see the flowers in full bloom. It’s been the first time in twenty years that we’ve had enough rain to see them open up. He said that there was pollen everywhere-all over the bright desert flowers, in the air, and the smell. Someday I’ll see it, but I spent most of that day doing laundry, cleaning the dishes, and getting ready. I wore a dress that was grey on the top, and a cute lil black pencil skirt on the bottom. It gave me some curves. I also pulled out my high heeled shoes that lace up. Dad and Lizzy got back in time to give me a ride to the restaurant where the gala was being held.

It started at 4:30 but we couldn’t actually go inside till 6. So the team and I strolled around and looked at all the auction items. There were servers who had little trays of meatball and spring rolls. Ava loved the meatballs so much, it was cute. She wore the most adorable flower dress that was (3 dollars!!). Kiara wore her black homecoming dress and looked bomb. Stephanie wore a cute blue dress. There was a little tension in the group. Stephanie was leaving at 6:30, and for some reason thought Kiara was upset with her leaving. Kiara actually wasn’t and told  her so, but Stephanie pulled me aside and said: “Hey so Kiara’s giving me attitude and I don’t know what to do….”

Basically it was a big misunderstanding. I assured her that no, nobody was mad at her. Kiara showed me some texts that Stephanie had sent her that were a little sassy, but I just told both of them to just not let it get to them. Just enjoy the gala. We took pictures, Brian filmed us for Megan and I’s Create Something 2.0 project. He was the only dude on our team. I tried to make sure he felt welcome by trying to talk to him as much as possible. Anna and Natalie were there too. Amanda also was there, although to be honest she didn’t do that much for our campaign but it’s okay. After dinner all the candidates had to stand outside then we were announced one by one by an enthusiastic woman, and we’d walk back to our table. When my name was called I walked up and the woman commented: “Oh, look at that strut! Yes girl! You go!”

I didn’t realize I was strutting, but everybody was commenting about it when I got back to the table. Oops. I think it was the heels. Ava would have been proud if she had seen it. She’s trying to improve my “sassy”walk. There was one embarrassing moment when they pulled all the candidates up and we each would draw a question from a hat and answer it. The first few girls were really nervous and the woman whisper an answer to them. I drew question 10 and it was: What did you learn from this campaign?”

I kept it simple and short because I was freaked out. “It wasn’t easy.” The announcer followed up with: “Oh yeah! Like you call your grandma up asking for help with the campaign and all of a sudden you can’t get ahold of grandma anymore.” (Something along those lines ??) I just laughed and agreed.

We went into this knowing that we weren’t going to win, or get any scholarship money. But you know what? It’s okay. Our team still raised $2,500 dollars. That’s pretty good for a bunch of high schoolers. The winner was a girl in a gorgeous blue dress who raised $15,000. That’s pretty incredible. Her name was Zoe.

I went home with Kiara and Ana . We danced like a bunch of white girls with no rhythm, made some mac n cheese, and watched Split. We fell asleep on Kiara’s bed at about 1 or 2 am.