I think the one of my main goals of high school has been to be part of the “in crowd.” And by writing “in crowd,” I don’t mean the jock football players, I just mean the people who have fun, hang out, and just live life. I believe that has been one of the major reasons why I have done so many activities in high school, so I could live the “perfect” high school life. For this past year I have stayed at my friend’s Ryan’s house every Monday this whole year for student council meetings. It’s been very interesting being apart of his family and getting to know them and picking up their habits and traits. I would say that Ryan is farley popular at our school, we both are. But there are several key facts that separate us. One of these facts became very apparent to me this afternoon. When we got home from school he informed that we were going to play ultimate Frisbee, in the rain, with some of his friends. I was a little hesitant at first, but then I aggressed to go. The people who were there were all the people that you talk about in high school. The jocks, the brains, and all sorts of high cliques. As we got into our game of ultimate Frisbee, it became very apparent to me that even though everyone knows who I am, they don’t consider me one there own. When we were playing, everyone was joking and laughing with each other, tossing the Frisbee to each other, but not to me. Now don’t get me wrong, they were being assholes about it, I just think that since I’m not one of “them” they don’t really know how to interact with me. (I think that’s the right word?) Another point that I’m not one of them. Ryan has gotten several graduation party invites from seniors at school. Want to know how many I have received? One … from Ryan. Well now my whole little pissed off mood has kind of been changed. As I was writing this Ryan’s mom walked into the computer room and just told me that I was miracle and that I am very well respected at school and that I show very high signs of maturity. She’s referring to the whole thing about my mom, about how she was raped and how I was conceived from that. I sometimes wonder why I was put here on earth. Why do I have this thought process, why do I look the way I do, why do I talk the way I do, why do I feel the way I do, why do I believe the way I do? I don’t know the answers to any of these questions, I may never know. All I can do is just hope that one day I will truly, truly be happy with the person I am and live life to the fullest.