So, I wiped my whole journal. It wasn't because I didn't want to remember, (actually, the whole reason I am writing a journal is for the sake of remembering later on) but because I wanted to start fresh, especially since I just graduated middle school. The graduation was highly stressful, to say the least: not only did I have to pick out the perfect white dress that was school appropriate (No strapless or spaghetti straps, no dresses under knee-length) , I had to wax my eyebrows, paint my nails, and get the perfect pair of shoes, white of course so that they would go with my dress. Honestly, being a girl is so high-maintenance. I enjoy being a semi tomboy.
I got those things done about a week before my graduation. Me dress was actually not school-appropriate, but my mom sowed in larger straps so that they would be. (Super mom!) I had the perfect, matching shoes- flats that covered my ridiculously sparkled toenails. I wanted to get something out of the ordinary for my nails, but only my toes so that no one actually saw them at the graduation. My fingernails were painted with the uniform white. So, all I had to do was not mess up over the next week, and I would be fine. I could manage that! ...right?
Wrong, per usual, Eve.
But for once in my life, I had no control over my one fatal flaw in my graduation. It was just one thing, plain and simple: I got sick. Yes, folks, here's your classic "perfect scenario" destroyed by a simple conflict that your main heroine has to resolve. The resolution? Well, I went anyways, fever, delirium, pain, and all.Which wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't for the fact that I had to play the violin and sing (I as the only 8th grader who did orchestra and chorus!), which was completely ridiculous. Think about it. I had to preform at my own graduation! How pitiful. We deserved some sort of special recognition or award or something. No rest for the weary, I suppose.
Anyways, I think you can understand why I sat down to play the violin with a giant frown on my face while everyone else (well, everyone except for my musical comrades) were allowed to process to the stage. We, however, played while they processed. Disgraceful. $36,000 per student to go to this school, and we can't afford a band for one or two days? What do they do with all that money, flush it? But whatever. I still got to walk across the stage and get my diploma and one award. The technology award. Yes, there was a technology award.
"Say, Eve's Dad, I saw your daughter got an award! What did she get?"
"Well, Bill, she got the technology award. We're so proud!"
Yeah, right.
Well, at least I got an award. Most of the people in my grade didn't get anything at all. I was disappointed because I did not get the strings award, even though I scored the highest of out whole school (high schoolers included) in trying out for CRO, or Central Regional Orchestra. Oh, no, the strings award went to this boy named Destana. He's the head of the cello section, while I'm the head of the violin section. Well, at least I approve of him getting the award. I would have pleaded insanity if one of our violins got the award.
Me? Insane? No, no I wasn't insane. I was simply cooking myself beside the stage, playing the violin, while the rest of my classmates got to relax on stage, smiling at their many snotty parents. But oh well, I won't have to deal with them for another three months. Middle school is over, and Summer has begun.
