1988

I turned 12 in 88 and that meant I started Young Women's as a beehive. I remembered that my two leaders came to my house to welcome me into Young Womens and they brought me a red journal. I actually wrote in my journal fairly often for years, and around 18 began writing in it daily until my mission then sometime during my mission I stopped and have had a hard time getting in the habit of writing in it frequently since that time but figure this blog is something like a journal.

That summer while camping with my family we met another family from Jerome, Idaho. My sister and I became friends with their kids, Wendy and Kirk. Kirk was just a little younger than me and we became penpals for several years.

Julie moved back to Texas and Amoretta was going to locker with her cousin for Junior High and Lisa moved away so I had no one to be a locker partner with in Junior High (we got to pick.) Maria, my friend from first grade, needed a locker partner so we agreed to locker together.

I attended East Minico High school. I took band as my elective and played the flute. I didn't have many classes with my friends and I was very shy. I did get my first real crush in 7th grade on a boy that played the saxaphone. That crush lasted through out junior and high school. He, of course, was too popular to like me.

Seventh grade was the worst year of my life. I liked all my teachers but I soon caught the notice of another girl. She began to bully me. She was in two of my classes, 6th and 7th period, the last two classes. It started with her just saying mean things about me and getting the other kids to laugh. But then one day in 6th period English we had a project and we had to go to the back to get magazines. I felt someone hit me hard in the back. At first I thought it was an accident since we were all jostling for position to get the magazines but when I looked back and saw her directly behind me I knew it wasn't. She hit me again and I quickly grabbed some magazines and retreated to my seat. I was taught not to hit back but sometimes I wished I had even if I had gotten beat up because maybe it would have stopped the torment that followed the whole rest of the year.