High School

It's almost the end of my daughter's first year in high school. She mentioned that she's read my blog on occasion, since I mention her by name and it comes up when she googles herself. So, Ms. Alta Alonzi, this blog's for you.

I'm proud of Alta's first year in high school. She took honors classes -- some of which were very tough -- but she also challenged herself in other areas. Alta is NOT an out-going kid, but she took a class on public speaking and got an A-.

It seems like it was just yesterday when she was struggling to prepare a book report to present orally in grade school. Oh, how far she's come.

I'm of the mindset that high school is a chance to develop new skills and learn more about who you are -- not a mere stepping stone on the path to the "right" college. In other words, you can choose your classes based on how high they'll raise your GPA and/or how they look on your resume, or you can experiment and have fun. You'll only be in high school once, so roll the dice, baby!

The class Alta took this year that made me the most uncomfortable was her creative writing class. One of her first stories was about two kids engaged in a war, trying to beat each other to asking their mom for the last piece of cake for dessert, while simultaneously sucking up so as to gain a positive response. At the very end, the mom says she ate the last piece for lunch.

I'm pretty sure my daughter based this short story on a real-life incident. Another of her stories was based on something I'd done in high school. She has to have a rough draft of her next story done by Thursday, and I get the feeling she's watching me...

I don't mind being someone's muse but when that person favors writing comedies, then providing their inspiration is a tad more awkward. My game plan is to introduce her to old SNL skits and The Muppet Show on You Tube. Plan B is to sic her on her Dad.