You know the feeling you get the day right before you start a new school and don't know anybody? I have that feeling right now. Except ten times worse. This is how my day went….

"Miss Desjardins! Miss Desjardins!" I was awakened by somebody shaking my shoulder and yelling in my face. What? I'm a deep sleeper. Can't blame me. "What?" I groaned. I wishing people had snooze buttons just like alarm clocks. It was my maid Mary who was yelling in my face. "It's time for breakfast Miss. Your family awaits." I sat up in bed and stretched leisurely. I pushed my straight brown hair out of my face and rubbed my eyes.

"What would you like to wear today Miss Desjardins?" Mary asked, opening the door to my walk-in closet. "I can choose my own clothes, Mary. You may go." Mary nodded and left the room, quietly closing the door behind her. I sighed and stood up. I shuffled to my huge closet across my lavish bedroom. My closet was filled with fancy dresses, everyday dresses, jewelry, high heeled shoes and a stereotypical girly girl's dream. I ran my hand along the rows of dresses. Each of them easily worth thousand dollars. I passed them all. I stopped at the drawers at the end of the closet and pulled out my clothes for the day. A white t-shirt, jeans and sneakers. Perfect. I grabbed my iTouch and ran downstairs to the dining room.

When I arrived in the dining room, my entire family was already eating. I took a seat next to my sister Claire. She looked at me and raised her eyebrows at my clothing choices. Let's just say that Claire is the exact opposite of me. She was wearing a blue everyday dress and high heels. Her hair was in a "delicate knot" on her head. Her "delicate knot" looked like a birds nest to me. I don't get why she spends so much time on her hair. I thought as I tied my hair back in a simple ponytail.

"Alexandra Desjardins!" my mother scolded. Here we go again. "I cannot imagine why you would wear those clothes that make you look like a boy and a … commoner." She spat.

Rule of the Rich#1: Always call people who are less wealthy than you "commoners"

I shrugged. I preferred my simple clothing to my mother's dark blue dress. Her dress was for normal people, fancy enough to meet the Queen of France. And this was my mother's "everyday" dress. "I am sorry Mother." I said, not really sorry at all.

Rule of the Rich #2: Always be formal, even during a family meal

I had to learn my manners early in my life and hating them since. As long as you talk politely nobody notices you but if you do one tiny thing like burp or something they stare at you like you are an alien or something. Around my mom I have to be polite, tidy and look impeccable every second of every day of every month of every year. And probably the rest of my life.

"Alexandra, Alexandra, Alexandra." My mother tutted in flawless French. "Have I not told you that first impressions always count. Always." She looked me in the eye and I nodded and continued to eat my eggs in silence. "Why can't you be like your sister?" My mother asked looking at my sister daintily eating her eggs. I rolled my eyes.

After breakfast, I headed up to my room. I turned on my laptop and looked up more information about Japan. My family had recently moved to Japan to expand the company my father owned. Desjardins Technology manufactured laptops, video games, computers, TVs and all that. We have stores all around France and all of Europe. Now my father has decided to expand to Japan too. That means learning an entirely new language, new customs, new lifestyle and new cities. I knew a enough Japanese to survive like, Where's the bathroom and I'm hungry so I think I'll be fine.

After 30 minutes, there was a knock on the door. "Come in!" I called. Mary stood at the door. "Miss Desjardins. There is a gentleman here to measure you for your new uniforms." I was less than thrilled. At my old school in France we had to wear plaid shirts and a polo shirt. I hoped the uniform for Ouran Academy would be better than skirts. I hoped that there were pants or something. But I knew that the chances were slim.

Mary led me to the fitting room and there stood an old man in a suit with the crest of Ouran Academy on his breast pocket. He spoke to Mary in Japanese. I picked out bits and pieces but asked Mary just in case for the translation. "Miss Desjardins, please stand on the stool and put your arms out." Mary translated. I silently obeyed and the old man measured me for the uniform. "Mary, can you ask him what the uniform looks like?" Mary nodded and I could understand the entire question. Mary squealed. "It would seem like the best uniform for you Miss."

30 minutes later

I stood in front of my mirror with an annoyed expression. I was wearing what seemed to be a giant, yellow, poofy yellow dress that would put the ball gown from Beauty and the Beast to SHAME. "Is there any other uniform?" I asked the tailor in my (really bad) Japanese. "I am sorry Miss. That is the only girls uniform available at Ouran Academy." Seriously? I sighed. My mother opened the doors and waltzed her way in. "Oh dear!" She said when she saw my dress/torture device. "You finally look the part! Not wearing those commoner clothes."

Rule of the Rich #3: Anything thing that 'commoners' use is unusable for the rich. (Even if they are genius)

"What's wrong with 'commoner clothes?" I asked, wishing for my jeans and t-shirt back instead of the yellow monstrosity. Mother snunched her nose like somebody put trash under it. "Those cheap fabrics tear all the time. They are for those people living in apartments." She spat the last word. I rolled my eyes and turned back to the mirror. I'll wear the yellow mushroom because I heard that the Ouran Academy is the best school in Japan. "Don't forget these Miss Desjardins." Mary handed me white stockings and a pair of black dress shoes.

The next morning…

"Miss Desjardins! Miss Desjardins!" I was awakened by somebody shaking my shoulder and yelling in my face. Same routine every day. Mary had to wake me up every day. It's not easy, I'll tell you that. After 10 minutes I finally got up. Mary put the yellow monstrosity on a hanger in front of my closet. "Thanks Mary." And she left the room. I put on the thing and looked at my reflection. I got the man to lengthen the dress to the floor (and of course Mom thought I wanted to feel like a princess) so I could wear my tennis shoes. I threw the high heels under the bed where they belong. I looked in the mirror again. This time more satisfied, I headed downstairs for breakfast. Since I refused to get up this morning, I was running late. I grabbed a sub sandwich with lots of expensive meats and cheeses etc. and headed out the door. I jumped in the limo and headed off.