You could call me the queen of tête-en-l'air (head in the clouds) and you would be perfectly right. Maybe it's because I just got a haircut and my head feels like a helium balloon, it's so light.

For those who didn't know, this is my first year of High School, and I absolutely love it: my schedule is ten times lighter, we can leave the school whenever we want, as long as we're there in time for class, it's right next to a huge mall, restaurants, library, and lovely park. The only downfall is that I now have school on saturdays. Every day, I take two metros, walk down a street and cut through the park to arrive right in front of my school. This morning, today being a saturday, I went the same way I always do, except that when I got to the end of the park, the gate was closed. I stood there, dumbstruck, staring at the gate that was blocking me from my school that was straight across the street in front of me. The thought of climbing it never even crossed my mind. I felt this awful sense of doom welling up in my stomach. Five minutes until my class would start. Five minutes until I would be late. I quickly turned around, heading at a fast pace back towards the entrance. Horror hit me as I found it locked. I had forgot that the park was closed on saturdays. I was trapped inside a park. A girl behind the entrance gate waved at me and said:

"Hey, how did you get in?"

"I don't know."

Now would be a good time to tell you that in this park had recently been put up a poney ring, where toddlers could come and ride them. The poneys would stay in their stalls at the park overnight. And early in the morning, someone would have to come take care of them. The girl asked:

"Did you see someone at the poney stalls?"

"Yes."

"Was he tall and skinny?"

"Uh, maybe, I don't remember."

"Well, anyways, I need to get in and he has the key. Could you go get him?"

"Sure."

Hope glimmered in my mind. A key!= To open the gate!= Freedom! I ran back to the poney ring. There, out of breath, I announced:

"Hello, um, there's someone at the gate who wants to get in and she said you have the key."

A little black boy came out with the key in his hand and walked with me back to the front gate.

"How did you get in?"

"I don't know."

"Did you climb?"

"No. The gate was open and a car was coming out."

"Ah. That's the gardian."

I looked at my watch.

"Rats."

"What?"

"I'm supposed to be in class right now."

"And you have to go the whole way around the park?"

"Yep."

"I could open the gate at the other end."

"Don't bother. I'm already late, I don't need to hurry anymore."

Strange logic, I know, but it makes sense to me. When we got to the front gate, the girl, still locked outside, exclaimed:

"Ah! Have you got the key?"

"No." the small boy answered.

"How did you get in, then?"

"I climbed."

"You didn't."

He grinned and pulled the key out of his pocket. Five seconds later, the gate was open and I had swapped places with the girl. She noticed:

"Oh, I get it! You were locked in!"

"Yep." I wrinkled my nose and smiled guiltily. "Bye."

I turned around and made my way around the park to my school. It was deserted. Without much difficulty, I reached my classroom on the second floor, fifteen minutes after class had started, knocked and appologized for being late.

"Sorry, I had a, uh, problem."

The teacher sent me down to the CPE (american equivalent: ???) to get a tardiness ticket. The CPE sent me back up to my classroom because they didn't do tardiness tickets. It was either I was accepted in class or I wasn't, in which case I had to justify my absence by a note from my parents. The teacher didn't accept me. So I sat in the deserted hallway for an hour, smiling at the weird situation I was in. When I explained what had happened to my friends, the general reaction was:

"Really? How did you do that? How do you do it, Claire? Getting into a mess like that?"

To which my answer was:

"Honestly, I have absolutely no clue."

The weather in Colorado Springs is gorgeous, even if it's rainy and overcast. Overcast was precisely the weather when we went to the pool yesterday and had a blast, but little did we know that rays of the sun were sneaking from behind the clouds and burning our skin to flames. That, sadly enough, is the state in which my shoulders are at this moment, stubbornly hot through the vinegar and soothing aloe gel. This morning, being a sunday, my parents being missionaries (for those who did not know), we went to church so that they could explain their work. When church was over, us being the 'guests', we had to stand at the exit and shake everybody's hand.

This is where the story really begins. Because in that line of people I had to shake hands with, there was an enthousiastic woman with long hair who gave me a hug. But, as many americans, before embracing me, she had to pat me hard (or so it seemed) on... where? you guessed it, the shoulder.

I'm quite proud to announce that nobody noticed my teeth clenching a bit more than usual and I managed to stay smiling.