Our miss Murdo Girl told me her Mother Loretta lied about her age so much, she finally became younger than her kids. I feel like I’ve aged a hundred years since we began this project, but Murdo Girl just might pass me up.
The boy’s basketball season is in full swing. We have a lot of guys in the sophomore class who are really good at all the sports. The problem is, they get a little full of themselves. Some members of the team have started to wear their hair a little longer. (Not just the sophomores.) Yesterday, Coach Applebee said if any of them showed up with hair below their eyebrows, he wasn’t going to let them practice. I saw them leave school and head toward the auditorium. At least 6 of them still had long hair. They must have decided to call Coach Applebee’s bluff. I can’t wait to see who wins this round.
Well, I saw six basketball players this morning, and if I didn’t know better, I would think someone had attacked them with a machete. Not one of them had hair below their eyebrows. I think some of them didn’t even have eyebrows. Looks like they did some fast hair cutting in the locker room last night…probably with a pocket knife.
SOME OF MY CLASSES
I have Mr. Thune in Algebra, which is my second favorite subject. I think he feels kind of sorry for me because I can’t play basketball like my Dad and Billy. I try to be a hard worker in his class anyway, because he was nice enough to give me the Frosty job last summer.
My science teacher is Mr. Diedrich. He calls us people. He’ll say something like, “People, if I want you to talk, I’ll pull your chains.” I never have liked science, but he’s a good teacher, and I do pay attention.
My English/speech teacher is Mrs. Peters. She was a little mad at us today. We had a substitute yesterday and things didn’t go well. Mrs. Peters said we acted like a bunch of jackasses, and she was right. She really laid down the law.
In speech class, we all had to draw a topic out of a hat and give an impromptu speech about it. This is what I drew. “What is an educated woman?” What would you say? Of course, I thought this would be easy. I went on and on for the whole 3 minutes about going to college and becoming a teacher or a rocket scientist. Of course I added that if you aren’t educated the best you can hope for is a job as a dishwasher. When I finished, I went back to my desk. I could see that A coming. I might be held up as an example to the rest of the class.
Mrs. Peters said something like this. “An educated woman is someone who knows enough about a wide range of topics to have an opinion, and can speak about it intelligently.” I could have sat there for a hundred years planning what to say in my speech, and I never would have come up with that. It will be something I’ll remember for about 46 years.
There is a boy in band that I sort of like. I think he likes me too, because one day I told him I liked the shirt he had on. Now he wears it practically every day.
The school got a big trampoline. They also got the mini tramp. I’m scared of the big one. We always have spotters, but that only helps keep you from falling off onto the floor, which would probably kill you. My cousin Andrea was doing a flip and she landed wrong. She scraped her face all up, and I know that had to hurt. I prefer the mini tramp. You run up to it, jump and flip. You land on thick plastic mats, so you’re less likely to get hurt.
There is a Noname girl who has different chants for each of the calisthenics we do. “We must, we must, we must improve our bust. The bigger the better, the tighter the sweater. We must improve our bust.”She’s funny, but she likes to push the envelope..a lot!
I have been in PE for almost 13 months now, (including last year), and I have never taken a shower or washed my ugly gym suit. I’m not the only one either. We just get a handful of water and douse our head so it looks like we showered. We also spray deodorant all over so it doesn’t start smelling rank in the locker room. It’s my hope that I can graduate from Murdo High School without ever stepping foot in that shower.
Dad gave up trying to teach me to hunt. After I passed my gun safety course, he took me pheasant hunting. It wasn’t long before he saw a pheasant, so we got out of the car and he quietly helped me get lined up, and I shot. We got back in the car and drove a little further to see if we could find more birds. When we turned around, he said we had to go back and pick up the pheasant. I said, “What pheasant?” He said, “The one you just shot.” I didn’t see anything fall from the sky. That kind of bothers me. It won’t do me any good to hunt if I can’t tell if I got one. It’s sort of like being able to shoot baskets, but not being able to dribble.
Now Dad is teaching me how to drive. Mom lets me drive the short distance from the house to the Motel. I park the car over there when we first open so it will look like we already have a tourist. Anyway, Dad saw some black tar on the car and a spot on the basement roof that was scraped up. He put two and two together, and decided I needed a couple of lessons.
We started driving toward White River. Dad pulled off to the side of the road and told me to walk around and get behind the wheel. I started driving, and it was actually much easier than I thought it would be…until he told me to turn onto a dirt road. I said, “I don’t think so Dad.” He said to slow down some and turn. I drove us right into the ditch. It was a pretty steep ditch, so it took him awhile to get us out of there. I noticed he didn’t say anything about me driving part way home.
After awhile he said, “Don’t they have drivers education at the high school?”
I said, “Yes, but I will be 16 before I can take it, and I want to get my license right when I turn 16.”
Then he said, “Even if you manage to get your license, I want you to take that class.” Dad just wants me to be able to shoot and drive.
Next year, Karen, Marlene, and I will all be in Mr. Applebee’s Driver’s Ed class, but we won’t be cutting our bangs!