Being the only boy in a class of twelve girls, not only do they forget that I’m here, but they also tend to stray from a topic to add their own personal stories. Many different personalities are jumbled into this class, which I have found are exactly like every girl stereotype I’ve ever seen.

We have a blonde that repeatedly blesses our class with her presence by giving us some comical relief. A few weeks ago she taught us that if our computers aren’t working, that we can just blow on them like it’s a classic nintendo game. While this in fact was not true, she was confident in her knowledge on this subject.

Our class is also blessed with a loud, sassy cheerleader, who loves to share with us every detail of her day. I learned that not only is she always “pissed off” or “not in the mood today”, but also that when we attend journalism conference, that we should never forget a clean bra, because it really sucks. She always talks up about herself on how she always “kills it” while cheering.

Journalism class also has a stereotypical band nerd, who loves to read and crack jokes about her missing arm. She can be very quiet at times, but also loves to be snarky when the time is right. By the way, the amount of sass in this room makes me question every statement before I speak it. While this particular girl doesn’t talk often, she repeatedly comments on my so called “dumb comments”.

We have a small, very energetic girl that loves to eat food. Every day she either asks people for food or pulls out snacks from her bag. We were given the opportunity to eat a cookie from Mrs. Digmann’s stash, and after a few minutes no one could find her. Soon, she popped up from the back room, where she was scarfing down cookies as fast as possible. I’m jealous of her insane metabolism.

A less noticeable group of girls stay in the back corner of the classroom and I always feel as if they’re judging me and everyone else in the room. They’re all very quiet and rarely talk to anyone outside their group. It is our second month of school and I only know one of their names…

I have learned many things in this journalism class, but when things tend to get girly, this class becomes very awkward for me. Last week, I learned that baby wipes are useful for cleaning almost anything, even when you don’t have a child. But when one of the girls put their two cents in, I learned that baby wipes are also useful for cleaning up “blended strawberries” from clothing, as one girl said she told her parents, it was after her first monthly event.

Being in a class of girls also tends to come with random bursts of useless information. Our blonde randomly shouted “What the heck is a macromolecule anyways” and then returned to quietly typing on her computer. One girl in class decided to say “The smell of chinese is bleh,” to which Mrs. Digmann replied in less than a second with “You’re bleh”.

Girls are random. Certain days, they can be fine and quiet, but then randomly all start singing High School Musical or Hannah Montana songs. Other days, usually a certain week of the month, they all tend to be the most hostile beings on the planet, but I  remember that being the only guy in a class full of girls means that most, if not all of them will always have my back if I ever need someone to lean on. It’s almost as if I have twelve new sisters, and I kind of like it.