Note : To understand this entry properly, I recommend that you read the entry prior to this one, by selecting "Previous" at the bottom of this page.

Recently my life has become very turbulent after a period of relative peace. After the month of hell from the earlier part of October to the middle of November, my revellation was :

I am not safe in my own home.

I was not in solution mode at this point. I was depressed. Everything was being taxed - heavily, and even my escape route to college seemed precarious. I had painted myself into a corner and could not begin to move out of it in any direction.

Then, one clear and vibrant fall morning, at the god forsaken hour of 7:00 a.m. (remember my current addiction to sleep), I was greeted by a friendly little dump of a local law enforcement officer. Awfully proud of his duty this morning, he furrowed his eyebrows and served me with a court summons. He then summed up the charges grandiloquently :

"Ye aint been goin' te school like ye supposed te."

First, that is a direct quote. People do say "aint" here. We do say "y'all". But this man... well, he pronounced school as "shoool." The parents of people who speak this way in our region (the Texas panhandle) do not neccisarily have the accent themselves. Texans as a whole do not have thick accents. We have obvious, identifiable ones, but the "drawl" is mostly contrived in this day and age.

My guess was that our plump official developed his in a peer group. When I knew the ranching boys in grade school, they were indestinguishable from other students spare the adorable little Wrangler jeans and boots that were actually worn in. The real ranch boys had to work. However, when these boys advanced into high school, identity became central. The drawl becomes a more serious condition the longer that they are exposed to it.

A pretty foolproof way to tell a Freshman rancher (or farmer) from a Senior is by the intensity of drawl. You can also distinguish between a fist-year senior and a third-year senior in this manner in most cases.

My, what a cultural tangent to be wandering off on... back to my summons.

Case number 2001-381467 State of Texas vs. Krause, Caitlin Veronica.

According to the summons, I, "intentionally and knowingly, and with criminal negligence, failed to attend school as required by law."

They call this one Section 25.095(a) of the Education Code. This code and I have become close aquiantences in the past two years. A part that stays hidden until it matters is that the state will not only fine you, but deny you credit in all classes where your attendance is delinquent. It only makes sense to do so, I suppose. So now I was looking at becoming a second year senior.

Well, this was exactly what it took to get me into solution mode. I had two objectives:

1. To get the hell out of high school and

2. To do so as soon as possible.

So I slipped out of my classes and enrolled in an "alternative school." The credits are the same, but the classes are offered in a narrower range of subjects. All of my course work is completed on a computer, and at my own pace.

As of today, I have one full credit down, four to go. And three and a half weeks to do it. I've been enrolled for two weeks.

This arrangement is more than I had even hoped for in my bleakest days of sleepy languidity. Not only do I get a diploma, get all of my scholarships, and get away from certain professors directly opposed to my success, but I also graduate a semester earlier. Not in June, but in December.

As for court... I was only fined court costs, a whopping $108.00. Joshua is covering me for the time bieng until I join him in Soccorro.

The judge said that he only hoped to see me again as a doctor, giving his grandchildren tongue depressors and cold stethoscope faces. The principle who filed charges against me even went so far as to brag about my achievements. And I think I thank her for filing, in a strange way.

Things aren't quite settled yet, but they look to be getting closer to being that way every day.