A senior memoir. Webster tells me that a memoir is a biography or historical account. Okay, I can do that.

A historical account of my time at De Soto High School would look like a blur of lost and new friends, disappointment and discovery, pain and growth and a lot of immature boys.

It would start with a freshmen girl entering DHS, scared out of her wits. At the time, there were teachers getting caught having affairs with each other, and one with a student. Yeah, I was prepared to walk into a 90210 episode upon my first day of high school.

But it didn’t turn out to be that bad. I was just forced to put Joey Kuhn’s snare drum away after every band practice and got Jerry Springer-ed by Katie Modereger and Danielle Jennings when I unknowingly sat at the senior table. It was good for me though, it built character.

The worst part of my time at DHS was seeing my friends fall into the path leading to Loserville.

High school is a social challenge. Every person is dumped into an atmosphere filled with sex, drugs and unmotivated dorks that think they’re funny. It’s up to each individual how they decide to handle the pressure.

Enough parent talk, it was not all bad. I had some of the greatest experiences during high school.

I strengthened my relationship with Christ, discovered great friends, gained self-confidence, learned to humble myself, taught myself to stand up for what’s right, and I’m now ready to start unfolding my future.

If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn’t. One time through high school was incredible enough for me. Plus, there’s no way I’m taking Trig again. Sorry not sorry, Mr. Thaemart.