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Posts Tagged ‘high school’

I was in Beta Club in high school, and yes, I was one of the dorky valedictorians keeping you from the cookouts after graduation ceremonies because I liked to write and give long-winded speeches about growing up, change and moving on. You’re welcome.

While I was in Beta Club, though, my now boyfriend (who wrote this story for the school’s website) talked me into running for secretary for the state’s Beta Club. I did, and I did pretty good and all until the second round of elections: question and answer.

Before the question and answer session, before standing on stage once more in front of thousands of people (we’re talking ALL Beta Clubs from the state of Tennessee here), those in charge let us look at each question to gather our thoughts and come up with an answer for each one. I had great answers for all of them… but one…

And that’s the one I drew out of the hat.
The question? “If you could ask the POTUS one question, what would it be?”

Naturally, plenty of controversial questions popped into my head. Questions like “Why are we in Iraq?” and “Why not help people in Africa instead?” or “Why don’t you do something about global warming?” immediately came to my mind, but of course I’m running for a state office and want votes, so I figured none of the above would be a safe option.

I opted for a safe, harmless question that ultimately cost me the election in an uncontroversial way: “What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?” My defense? I like knowing stupid stuff like that about people, because I like to connect with others. I’m a fun person.

I was (and still am) blonde. And a former cheerleader on top of that.
And my campaign was, “Red, White and Blonde/Expect more, elect Moore” with “Not just another dumb blonde,” printed on the front of each shirt. Fitting, no?

Whatever. I didn’t want the office anyway. Too much responsibility and stuffy-ness for my taste.

If I could go back and do it over again, I’d have better answers. Questions like, “How many lives will it take for you to pull out of Iraq completely?” “How do you plan on *helping to lower gas prices?” and “Do you realize how bad America looks in the global eye?” would be great choices, and by now most may agree with me on that.

So, I ask you, what would you ask the President of the United States? And why?

**Note:  Re-worded after reader comment.  Thanks!

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Fitting into a place sucks. Let’s just be honest. No matter where you end up in life, you’re bound to be different and absolutely HAVE to find a way to fit in somehow, someway, without changing who you are.

Lately I’ve been reading Prep, a New York Times Bestseller that Lance had to read last year for English. When he passed it on to me, I wanted to read it, but naturally would rather be on the Internet.

A picture of what I see everydayAnyways, about a year later I’ve opened the cover to discover (like the rhyme?) that it’s hard to put down…
…and stop thinking about how I feel just like the main character. Or at least I can relate.

We’ve all been in that position…

…new town, new school, new people

It’s intimidating, especially if you’re from a small mid-western town moving to the East Coast to attend a boarding school the last four years before college. To make matters worse, let’s throw in the money aspect, you know, the hierarchy where whoever is the prettiest with the most money gets it all.

That’s how I felt when I came to college, minus the high school part (I’ve already been through heck and back in high school, and I’d like to not go through it again). Small-town girl goes to a big university, middle-class and trying to keep up with everybody while maintaining a 4.0 that waved goodbye with my first astronomy exam. Sound familiar? Join the club. I can be president.

It’s hard trying to fit in these days. Like I said before, you have to have money, smarts and looks. Not all of us have that, but I know most of us have a great personality that shines through the dirt and grime…
…while others’ dirt and grime covers the glossiness of their hierarchal status. You know?

Bah, anyways kids, the moral of the story is to be true to yourself. Only God’s judgment counts, not everyone else’s. And if you’re cool with God, then everything else falls into place.

Like perhaps choosing the right major for you. Bah. Let’s not go there…

My how time flies. 1 a.m. and I have a 9:40 class….

Writing is addictive in the same way alcohol is. Tastes bad at first, but it’s an acquired taste.
Hmm… maybe that’s not the best analogy in the world… but it’ll do.

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