I�ll pick up where we left off. I returned to the hotel room with my new Friends Again CD and listened to it as I fell asleep. The next morning, we left the Quad Cities.

We spent the night in Indianapolis (I think) so my dad could watch football. I had grand delusions about life in Alabama being wonderful and spectacular, seeing as I�d be at the head of the class.

The next day, January 1, 2001, we arrived in Huntsville at the Guest House Suites. The first thing I did, of course, was turn on the TV. We had arrived in the middle of the �biggest snowstorm in recent history,� according to the WAAY 31 weather loser, with a whole inch of snow on the ground. After I stopped laughing, we went out to get dinner.

However, between the holiday and this �severe weather,� most of the town was shut down. We ended up eating at Denny�s. In my stupidity, I asked if they were hiring, because I guess I thought it would be a good start. It is fortunate that I didn�t get the job, because it�s in town and we live kind of in the boonies, so it would have been a long drive. Plus, it�s Denny�s, so, you know, gross.

We had arrived during the winter break, so we had a few school-free days to tie up such loose ends as visits to the health department (in the running for worst six hours of my life ever) and school registration.

Ah, yes, school registration. I was fortunate to meet the right person from the very beginning. The woman who counseled me, it turns out, is the woman who is still my overworked, underappreciated counselor today. She explained to me that they had stupid rules for a reason.

I explained to her that having to tuck in my shirt and being required to carry a see-through mesh backpack were stupid beyond reason. She smiled apologetically and I conceded defeat, remembering that this was, after all, Alabama.

I went on to stare suspension in the eye more than a few times for forgetting to tuck in my shirt. My mom ended up making signs: �Patrick � Remember to tuck in your shirt,� and putting them all over the house in the mornings. Whatever works.

We lived at the good ol� Guest House Suites for the entire month of January. Then we moved into our new house, located in subdivision close to the school.

Sparkman is on a block scheduled, four-period day. We have four classes during the first semester and four different classes the second semester. The courses that first semester were Chemistry, U.S. History (Beginnings to 1900), Geometry, and General English 10. Chemistry was fairly easy, probably because I�d had half of it in the fall. And yes, General English, which was partly the school�s fault for not recognizing World Studies for what it was and partly my insistence that I not be forced to read Lord of the Flies again.

I ended up with three A�s and a B (in Chemistry), but my ability to use big words to confuse, frustrate and annoy others had resulted in a glaring lack of friends.

That was sort of the preemptive goal, though. Don�t get too attached. You�re leaving in two years. Whatever I had to tell myself.

I did find refuge at the local library, a book emporium housed in a trailer. I got a good friend out of it, anyway, in the Branch Manager.

The library provided me with the references I needed to find a job that summer at the local pizza franchise. This summer, I split my time between the pizza place and the library, as both are paying me well and taking good care of me.

Also that first year, after much searching around, we found a church home, which the good people at Beckman, Beckman, Clark & Powell International Law have advised me should remain nameless. I can tell you that we are still at that church, but that the youth group is less than impressive. I got tired of showing up and leading the Tuesday night discussions with one or two other people. A waste of precious gasoline, if you ask me.

Toward the end of the summer, I met a guy I had been corresponding with on the Internet. His name is Kevin, and he is the nephew of the counselor I mentioned earlier. He has a website, which you can check out here. Are you happy now, Kevin?

That July, I got a taste of home when I hung out with the group from my church in Illinois at the National LCMS Youth Gathering in New Orleans, LA. It was a pretty good time and I met some interesting people who helped me discover some things about myself.

In the fall, I took AP US History (1900 to the Present) with the Eggman, Mr. Reynolds. He tried to teach us how to �chill out, baby� and regaled us with tales of his many adventures at Dream Girls and in Montreal.

Also last fall, I had Chemistry II with the divine, overqualified Mrs. Dalton, and Driver�s Ed., which turned into study hall after the October break.

That�s something else I probably should explain. Last August, we began a modified year-round schedule. We go for nine weeks in the fall and have a two-week break in October. Then we go nine more weeks until the Christmas break. In the spring, we go nine weeks and have a two-week Spring Break. And then it�s just nine more weeks until the two months of summer that await us.

The other class on my schedule in the fall was Newspaper, and I am seriously proud to have been a part of such a talented staff at The Crimson Crier. I spent the year as the paper�s entertainment editor, and at the February Alabama Scholastic Press Association convention in Tuscaloosa, we were named All-Alabama for the third consecutive year.

Anyhoo, the fall was pretty much uneventful, save for Skidball 2001, America�s new favorite pastime, held on Thanksgiving Eve.

I became the president of the Sparkman chapter of SADD when the former president resigned. I also joined the Science Club this year, because you get to go to Six Flags Over Georgia instead of school on an idle April Friday. I continued in my role as president of my youth group at the Nameless For Legal Reasons Church, my job at Pizza Franchise Inc. and my volunteer stint at the library.

In the spring, my classes included the aforementioned Newspaper and the fledgling Sparkman Broadcasting class, which, by the end of March, finally produced a daily broadcast of the announcements. I also tried my hand (and my brain) at Mrs. Willis�s College Prep English 11...from hell. It is rumored to be the toughest class at Sparkman. It reminded me a lot of World Studies, what with Willis�s reckless disregard for the personal and social lives of her students, at least as far as homework was concerned. But we love Ms. Willis, because we're better people because of her. She taught me how to read poetry, anyway.

The nightmare that is mathematics continued in Algebra II/Trig., which involved very little Trig and an excess of Tomato Nation printouts. The beloved Coach Willoughby packed it up after another losing season for the basketball team, and Mr. Borque, known to many as the Math Nazi, took over, managing to get me an A in the end.

I officially became an employee of the library in May. I am summer help...at least that�s what they tell me. I�m trying my best to devote equal attentions to both jobs, especially since without one, I wouldn�t have the other, and the customers and patrons are going to make it an interesting summer in spite of me.

Anyway, that�s a quick history of the last seventeen months. I have missed everyone like crazy, and I am grateful for the opportunity to see old friends...and make new ones. I can�t think of a better birthday present than spending some quality time...with my friends.