Kamehameha High School - Ka Nai Aupuni Yearbook (Honolulu, HI)

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Pepsis and a Classic Coke are waiting patiently in the fridge. No Cosby show for me tonight. No radio. So much for the High-Low instant cash flow every hour. What I need is some instant brain flow. I've got to draw up these crazy layouts for tomorrow's deadline. Three double page spreads. I'm going to die. Jainnie's at home trying to do her layouts, too. But does she have a major Spanish test to study for? Nope. And even if she did, she wouldn't let herself get into this situation. I know nothing about chapter 30! Zilch! Oh why did I have to catch all those z's in Spanish? Now I'm going to catch the I:'s. Speaking of catching z's, I could use a little nap right now. No! Wake up! You're too young to die, do you hear yourself? Good grief, you know it's all your fault for not keeping up with your workbook, and for copying all those answers out of the back. Shame on you, you little monster. You cheat. Next time, do your homework. Read! Read! Read! Oh my God, I forgot topread my American Lit. stories. By tomorrow?! Oh, no! That's right, my journal is due too! Four pages? I've got homework coming out of my ears! What else can I possibly have to do? Lessee, bust out the 'ol calendar. Hmmm, oh, here it is, journals due Qwell, how was I supposed to know? I wrote that two weeks agoj, Spanish test, and what? Birthdays? Denise's is tomorrow? And Arlyn's and Sam's, too? Oh no. I've got to bake three cakes. And make birthday cards! What time does Foodland close? I gotta get some balloons. I didn't even get them presents. Help! I'm in even bigger trouble and deeper kimchee than I thought possible. Make that six Pepsis and a cup of coffee. Ugh, I hate coffee. Stop. Let's be rational. Get organized and clean up your junk. Good. Now check the clock, go ahead, it can't be past nine. See, it's only 8:33. There's still time. Now write down your schedule. Journal: 2 hours max. Birthday stuff: hmmm, we'll have to edit the big plans and send 'em flowers. Short story readings: 2 hours, easy. Layouts: I gotta call Kihei for that. Better do it now. I-Iere's the number. Please, no busy signals. There, now it's ringing. Augh! The answer phone. Bleep. Kihei, I just called to let you know that I'm coming over to mangle your answering machine. I also don't know what do about these layouts. Please call me back. Click. , I wish I were at the football game. This is the last one of my senior year and I'm at home leaving maniac messages on answering machines. Oh, back to my schedule. That's 2+2+2, plus maybe three more for the layouts. Lessee, that's nine hours: 8:30, 9:30, 10:30, oh, no problem. I'll be done by 6 in the morning. What was I so worried about? Chop time. What can I get out of doing? Shirk some responsibility like a duck sheds water. I need some sleep. I could get two hours nap-time if I go to Hale Ola during Spanish, but on second thought, that won't work. The fourth absence on consecutive tests wouldn't look too good. What else? I could skip the layouts. No way, I'm not crazy, Karen'll murder me. OK, I can skip the American Lit. Yah, that's good. Then I'll just nod my head and take lots of notes during class discussion. How did I get into this mess? Oh why didn't I read my stories yesterday instead of watching Risky Business? Why don't I write in my journal everyday like I'm supposed to? Why didn't I go to sleep early on nights when I didn't have homework? Why me? Why life? Why does the clock say it's 9 already? Oh how I'd love to sleep right now. This is the last time I do this. Now I know I've said this before, but this time I mean it. I'll be a good girl, God, and I'll do my homework everyday, and I'll never fool around in class again, or forget my journal, or watch T.V., or listen to the radio, or talk on the phone, or think about going to football games. Never again. If you'll just let me stay awake this one last time. Thank you. Bless you. Amen. Zzzzz . . . !

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lease read this: Anyone found a watch lately? About three Fridays ago, I forgot my bag up here and I couldn't come back up to get it after school, so I asked somebody to leave it on the bottom shelf and I'd just hope that nothing would be taken. Well I was wrong, and someone still took all my money. That stuff was supposed to be for the prom, and I was going to put it in the bank after school. Believe me, I don't get money like that very often. But screw that. The bad thing is that after that incident I couldn't find my watch. It was one of those Swatch thingies, the kind you can hardly read. Well anyway I sure wish I knew where it is. I don't know if I just lost it or if someone took it out of my bag that day. Okay, so I'm the idiot of the year for not putting the watch on my wrist so I wouldn't lose it, but I mean, gimme a break. Everyone knows how it is to lose something, especially when your granny gives it to you for Christmas, and your mom keeps asking, Oh, where's the nice watch tutu gave you? Please, anyone, if you find or have found a black plastic Swatch watch, one that is hardly readable because it's got blue and yellow or blue and red clock hands, please, stick it in my KNA drawer. I'd really appreciate it. I feel bad about losing it, and I don't want my mom to find out. There's a reward, I promise, if you stick it in my drawer. I'll leave something for you. Thank you. If I complained, the matter would turn worse than She asked me how I was doing I had to say okay There was no choice Mom called, asked me if I was okay I told her no I told her how miserable I was, how I would lock myself in my room to get away from the mad world beyond the door I told her how I was treated like a six year old and how I was responsible for every mishappening in and out of the household. I She told me to hang in therep the same thing my dad says Who'll tell my dad what I told her but he can't do anything about it fneither can shej I-Ie'll just write to me and say how much he misses me I've got to get out They won't let me out. I have to hang in there There are times when I look at my fortress on the hill and wonder- is it worth it to live in my fortress? To be surrounded by gold instead of friends? Why must I choose between the things I love most- or is it my friends making me choose? Well if they're as low as that, then it's worth living in my fortress. Sometimes I really don't feel like me I try hard to think on how i really am but I can't locate it. Mom tells me I act different. I probably do but trying to change it doesn't work. Oh how hard I try to feel the way I . was, and be the way I was - nothing happens Until I finally resolve into not thinking about this problem at all. Then I feel me again. It's so odd, the feeling I feel once in a while. There must be a purpose I won't ask why. it was and is