January 19, 2002 | 6:58 PM

I was at Outdoor Ed., a two day long fieldtrip for the sixt graders which took place every May. The point was to teach us about learning to fend for yourself in the wild. It was a rinkydink version of Outward Bound. We slept in log cabins and learned archery and roasted marshmallows. Mr. Bobbin the math teacher attempted teaching us to use a compass which didn't work out particularly well.

All in all I was having fun. I was asked to "go out" by the boy I'd had a mad crush on all year-- a sweet Star Trek Geek named Whitney. I had my first kiss. The popular girls were being nice to me which wasn't the norm. I was feeling good about the world and good about myself.

On the second day my cousin who happened to be the school psychologist told me he needed to speak to me alone regarding a matter of great importance. I figured it had to do with these overdue library books I'd had for the past six months. My palms were sweating. I was so nervous.

But that wasn't it.

The reason he needed to speak to me was my father died.

Out of nowhere he just died.

He fell asleep on the couch and didn't wake up. My Mom and my brother and sister found him the next morning. They thought he had overslept as he would have normally been at work already. They tried to wake him up but he was gone.

I loved him so much.

That's when everything really began sucking.