"I wish you wouldn't use that vulgar expression," said Janine, sniffing. "I'm not 'crunching' anything. I'm performing quantitative data analysis."

Yikes. "Whatever," I said. "Have a blast." I waved good-bye to her, and then ran upstairs for a final outfit-check.

Most people just wear cut-offs and T-shirts to summer school. Not me. I consider getting dressed to be as much of a creative act as painting on a canvas or sculpting with day. I plan my outfits with care, and I make a point of never wearing exactly the same thing twice. Not that I have closets and closets full of clothes, or anything. It’s just that I like to combine what I do have in new and interesting ways.

I stood in front of my full-length mirror and looked. Staring back at me was a medium-height Japanese-American girl with almond-shaped eyes and long, black hair held back by a pink, star-shaped barrette. She wore a silky pink tank top with a man's white shirt tied casually over it, white jeans, and flip-flops decorated with more pink stars.

I gave my reflection the thumbs-up sign. "Okay, Kishi, I think you're ready," I said to

myself. "Except for one thing." I turned and checked beneath the pillow on my bed. "Provisions!" I cried, when I'd found what I was looking for. I stuck the Milky Way bar into my knapsack.

I have something to confess. I'm a junk food fiend.

Yes, It’s true. You might not be able to tell by looking at me, but I practically live on foods that contain long lists of ingredients I can't pronounce. Tortilla chips, potato chips, corn chips, pretzels. Milky Ways, M & M's, Pay-Days, and Twizzlers. I love them, I love them, I love them. But my parents seem to have this bizarre idea that all that stuff is bad for me and that I should be eating carrots and beets, instead. Right.