Terrible Tornadoes

I am happy to report that I have survived the field trip. Although I was just getting by on the skin of my teeth. We had to have "buddies" and I of course got stuck with the kid who doesn't seem to have any concept for personal hygiene, he smells like wet dog and I saw him picking his nose before we got on the bus. Repulsive, absolutely repulsive. I had a terrible headache the whole bus ride because my classmates seemed to forget that we were 10 and not 6 and felt compelled to sing the whole hour. I thought I could have vertigo but once we got off the bus I was feeling much better.

I took this picture on the field trip. It is the Portsmith lighthouse that we visited. Kind of cool, I guess

Anyhow, trouble started the day after my field trip. Mom forced me to join a soccer team. She thinks it will help me socialize and make new friends. I am not a team playing sport kind of kid. Actually, I am not a sport playing kid at all. I just don't enjoy it- is that such a crime? My mom played sports her whole life. Back home in California she would always try to get me to throw a football or frisbee with her at the beach but I would rather just sit under my umbrella and read a book. She was practically glowing when she said she had signed me up so I didn't have a chance to say no. Our team is called the Tornadoes and we practice twice a week. My body hurts so much, I'm thinking I could have Fibormyalgia. I'll give it another week and if I'm not feeling better its off to the hospital and off the team for me. Anyhow tonights practice was a disater. I was sitting on the bench getting a drink of water when a girl on my team said "Lil thanks for sharing your water with me". IS SHE MENTAL?? I was mid sip when she told me this so I of course spat up what was currently in my mouth. This was followed by a scream. My coach ran over and asked what the problem was and Betsy (the water stealer) claimed I nodded when she asked to have a sip. I told her I did no such thing (our mouths have hundreds of bacteria including fungi AND viruses) so why the heck would I willingly accept hers? My coach kept trying to tell me it was a simple misunderstanding but I just couldn't handle it and no one would listen to me speak. I could feel the tears forming in my eyes and the lump rising in the back of my throat. My fists were clenched and sweaty, and the only option was to run out of the gym. On the way out I heard someone call me a freak under their breathe, great, just great.  Coach Peter called my mom later to explain what happend and she was not thrilled. She at least let me tell her MY side of the story. She told me that we could label my water bottle, as if that would make the girls on my team think im normal. What am I even talking about, I don't care what they think anyhow.