You go on a journey.
For me, I never go much farther then Bar Harbor. For one, travelling it too expensive, and for two, Maine is so pretty why go anywhere else. Typically, a trip to Bar Harbor also features my boyfriend's father. He is jovial man who dabbles in photography and always has a camera slung around his neck. Our trips usually consist of short one line commands,
"STOP!"
Then Randy will get out of the car and start taking pictures of whatever his keen eye spotted. When he is in "camera mode" he usually starts muttering to himself
"O look at that! That's gonna be great, now I just need it from another angle....annnnd OK, I got it!"
I don't mind. It's nice to have an excuse to get out of the house and be given the tour by the Master Mainer. The hour trip home is usually pretty eventful as Randy reviews all his shots and has to show us each one. While we don't mind, I just wish he wouldn't stick the camera in the driver's face, while he is driving :)
Monday, September 30, 2013
Week 5: Prompt 1
You’ve done something terrible and know you will go to Hell.
The other day, my boyfriend found a little mouse that had accidentally found its way into a gigantic vat of waste motor oil. Since my boyfriend is a kind man, he quickly scooped it up and attempted to wipe it off. The poor thing was so exhausted that it didn't even try to run away. I sat in the corner, nose in my book, but I heard him say,
"it's ok little mouse, I gotcha"
as he attempted to soothe the frightened, oil covered rodent. I looked up and laughed at him. He quickly spun around,
"Look, it's all sad and limp, what should I do?"
"I dunno, go give it a bath or something, like they do for all those oil spill ducks"
He stood for a moment and figuratively scratched his head, trying to decide what to do. Eventually, he turned around and walked to the far end of the garage. He stooped low for a while, and I assumed he was letting it outside. I went back to my book, not really paying attention. When he was done, he went back to working on his car. After a while, my eyes hurt and I looked up,
"What'd you end up doing with that mouse?"
"I gave it a water dish and put it in there so it could clean off...why?"
But I was already rushing to where he had gestured to the mouse. Sure enough, it was it the shallow dish that he had made so it could "clean off". It wasn't moving. I whipped around,
"You drowned it!"
"What?! you're kidding!?"
"No Evan, mice can't swim!!" I said, and i picked up the water dish to prove it. He looked at it sadly and stood there with his mouth agape.
"Damn it! I killed it" He whispered.
The other day, my boyfriend found a little mouse that had accidentally found its way into a gigantic vat of waste motor oil. Since my boyfriend is a kind man, he quickly scooped it up and attempted to wipe it off. The poor thing was so exhausted that it didn't even try to run away. I sat in the corner, nose in my book, but I heard him say,
"it's ok little mouse, I gotcha"
as he attempted to soothe the frightened, oil covered rodent. I looked up and laughed at him. He quickly spun around,
"Look, it's all sad and limp, what should I do?"
"I dunno, go give it a bath or something, like they do for all those oil spill ducks"
He stood for a moment and figuratively scratched his head, trying to decide what to do. Eventually, he turned around and walked to the far end of the garage. He stooped low for a while, and I assumed he was letting it outside. I went back to my book, not really paying attention. When he was done, he went back to working on his car. After a while, my eyes hurt and I looked up,
"What'd you end up doing with that mouse?"
"I gave it a water dish and put it in there so it could clean off...why?"
But I was already rushing to where he had gestured to the mouse. Sure enough, it was it the shallow dish that he had made so it could "clean off". It wasn't moving. I whipped around,
"You drowned it!"
"What?! you're kidding!?"
"No Evan, mice can't swim!!" I said, and i picked up the water dish to prove it. He looked at it sadly and stood there with his mouth agape.
"Damn it! I killed it" He whispered.
Week 5: My own narrative
Every girl likes to get a little attention from men, even when she is in a relationship. Usually it is harmless enough, a little flirting here or there, and the girl comes out of it with a higher self esteem. For me, I suck at reading between the lines. I am a sarcastic person by nature, and I usually rub people the wrong way. Sarcasm is also my go-to when I have no idea what to say. Like if some guy says,
"Hey baby you look nice tonight!" and he gives me the bottom to top look over, as disgusted and repulsed as I am, I usually say "O thaaaaaanks...I'm suuuure I look good",making it obvious that I do not agree and I quickly run away.
The real problem I have with flirting is when it is someone that you know and you see on a daily basis. I may initiate the conversation with some sarcasm, not trying to flirt, and before I know it the guy is hitting on me. I usually run away as fast as I can.For the simple reason that I am in a relationship and don't need to lead anyone on or give them the wrong idea.
The other day at work I was having a conversation with some co-workers and the football game was on behind them. I began to act out the football game just to garnish some laughs. Since I was wearing the Tom Brady jersey, I felt like it was apropos. This prompted my coworker to say,
"You make that jersey look good" with a seductive smile.
Even though I could not see my face, I am sure it turned red and a flicker of panic went through my eyes. I quickly recovered and went to my go-to.
"O I'm sure I look goood.."
I half turned to walk away before the conversation got more awkward, only to hear
"No i'm serious it looks really good, and that skirt looks good on you too"
I threw him a smile and red faced, I practically ran to the service bar to hide. Looking back, I have come up with many witty things I could have said and I keep rehashing the conversation in my head. Why? I don't know. I like the attention, and like to be told I am good looking, but now I am not really sure what to say when I see this person again. Since I am so bad at taking a compliment I probably make people think that I think I am dowdy and plain by acting like I never believe them. Perhaps my go-to should just be a simple "thanks" and a smile, and I will cross my fingers behind my back that the conversation ends there.
"Hey baby you look nice tonight!" and he gives me the bottom to top look over, as disgusted and repulsed as I am, I usually say "O thaaaaaanks...I'm suuuure I look good",making it obvious that I do not agree and I quickly run away.
The real problem I have with flirting is when it is someone that you know and you see on a daily basis. I may initiate the conversation with some sarcasm, not trying to flirt, and before I know it the guy is hitting on me. I usually run away as fast as I can.For the simple reason that I am in a relationship and don't need to lead anyone on or give them the wrong idea.
The other day at work I was having a conversation with some co-workers and the football game was on behind them. I began to act out the football game just to garnish some laughs. Since I was wearing the Tom Brady jersey, I felt like it was apropos. This prompted my coworker to say,
"You make that jersey look good" with a seductive smile.
Even though I could not see my face, I am sure it turned red and a flicker of panic went through my eyes. I quickly recovered and went to my go-to.
"O I'm sure I look goood.."
I half turned to walk away before the conversation got more awkward, only to hear
"No i'm serious it looks really good, and that skirt looks good on you too"
I threw him a smile and red faced, I practically ran to the service bar to hide. Looking back, I have come up with many witty things I could have said and I keep rehashing the conversation in my head. Why? I don't know. I like the attention, and like to be told I am good looking, but now I am not really sure what to say when I see this person again. Since I am so bad at taking a compliment I probably make people think that I think I am dowdy and plain by acting like I never believe them. Perhaps my go-to should just be a simple "thanks" and a smile, and I will cross my fingers behind my back that the conversation ends there.
Friday, September 20, 2013
Week 4: Prompt 3
Wishing? Lying? Dreaming? Dancing? Boxing? Cooking? What is writing like for you?
For me, writing is like a amateur artist trying to paint. The artist has no goal or idea in mind, he simply puts brush to canvas and begins. Slowly, the painting turns in to something, as he becomes inspired by his own strokes and ideas, and a picture begins to form. When the large portion of the painting is done, the artist will go back through and begin the detail work of painting the doorways, windows, wisps of hair, freckles...When the artist is finished, he will look at his work and be pleased/proud with the canvas, even though he knows it will never been seen. I feel like a write backwards, I write the bulk of what I am trying to say, and then fill in the fine details. Usually, I am impressed with the work that I produce. I have never had an issue with putting words to paper, and I tease people who are unable. Mean as I may be, they seek revenge by usually laughing at me when I am stuck in remedial math classes.
For me, writing is like a amateur artist trying to paint. The artist has no goal or idea in mind, he simply puts brush to canvas and begins. Slowly, the painting turns in to something, as he becomes inspired by his own strokes and ideas, and a picture begins to form. When the large portion of the painting is done, the artist will go back through and begin the detail work of painting the doorways, windows, wisps of hair, freckles...When the artist is finished, he will look at his work and be pleased/proud with the canvas, even though he knows it will never been seen. I feel like a write backwards, I write the bulk of what I am trying to say, and then fill in the fine details. Usually, I am impressed with the work that I produce. I have never had an issue with putting words to paper, and I tease people who are unable. Mean as I may be, they seek revenge by usually laughing at me when I am stuck in remedial math classes.
Week 4: Prompt 2
If my dog could talk...
With all her many expressions, I would be afraid to hear the words that might come out of her mouth. She is a Bulloxer (Boxer+Bulldog) and usually has a goofy "grin" and bright, excited eyes. If she could talk, I am sure that she would tease me incessantly. She would probably say things like:
Hey ma, you got something on your chest!
I would (of course) look down and she would bop me in the face. Or she might be like a love struck little girl.
Ma, I really like this boy cat named Ruger, but he always picks on me and is never nice, every time we play together he bats at me and runs up high!
Then I could give the age old response of "well, when he is mean, that just means he likes you!"
She already likes to pick on my boyfriend and I by tapping us with her foot and running away quickly. She has the mentality of a 2 year old that just wants to play. If she suddenly started talking I don't think I could handle it. She would be like the dog from "UP", talking about nonsense then getting distracted mid-sentence to shout "SQUIRREL!!". Don't get me wrong, she is the best little pup and loves to sleep and snuggle but those hour long bouts of her being underfoot and talking my ear off would be to much. So, I do not wish that my dog could talk; however, I would be curious (for 5 min) on what she would have to say.
With all her many expressions, I would be afraid to hear the words that might come out of her mouth. She is a Bulloxer (Boxer+Bulldog) and usually has a goofy "grin" and bright, excited eyes. If she could talk, I am sure that she would tease me incessantly. She would probably say things like:
Hey ma, you got something on your chest!
I would (of course) look down and she would bop me in the face. Or she might be like a love struck little girl.
Ma, I really like this boy cat named Ruger, but he always picks on me and is never nice, every time we play together he bats at me and runs up high!
Then I could give the age old response of "well, when he is mean, that just means he likes you!"
She already likes to pick on my boyfriend and I by tapping us with her foot and running away quickly. She has the mentality of a 2 year old that just wants to play. If she suddenly started talking I don't think I could handle it. She would be like the dog from "UP", talking about nonsense then getting distracted mid-sentence to shout "SQUIRREL!!". Don't get me wrong, she is the best little pup and loves to sleep and snuggle but those hour long bouts of her being underfoot and talking my ear off would be to much. So, I do not wish that my dog could talk; however, I would be curious (for 5 min) on what she would have to say.
Week 4: Prompt 1
You have a friend, lover, s.o., parent, whomever--and you have a magic potion. Once they take it they will tell you the absolute truth for one minute. Who do you give it to and what do they say?
There has always been one person that when I look back upon, I realize that our whole relationship was one big lie. If I had a truth serum, I would give it to him. Unfortunately, I did not realize he was a cad early on, and I gave this person everything I could offer, I suffered dearly for my naivety Chris didn't start off a bad guy, he and I had a great friendship-nothing more.
Eventually, I learned that he and his girlfriend were having problems and were no longer together. The relationship between Chris and I blossomed. I became the love-struck girl and gave him everything he asked. Then one day, I showed up at his house. He was not home, but the door was unlocked. No matter what a girl days, they always take an opportunity to snoop. I entered his bedroom. A girly comforter was on the nicely made bed, pictures scattered throughout of Chris and his "ex", women's hygiene products all over the bathroom sink. My heart sank, and my lunch of turkey and cheese leapt up into my throat. I quickly left the room and ran to my car, tears streaming down my face. Once I had calmed down, I called him. I learned that she had never moved out and they had been together the whole time; and what I thought was a promising future, had merely been a "booty call" for him.
I am proud to say that I healed from that heartbreak, but I do regret that I was never able to ask why he would do such a thing. I speculate that he thought it would be fun and adventurous, and I was some mindless entertainment to help get him through the rough patch of his other relationship. Thanks to Facebook, all people have the power to "check up on" most anyone. My recent findings show that he cheated on the girl he chose over me, and he had a baby with his new booty call. Once a cheater, always a cheater.
There has always been one person that when I look back upon, I realize that our whole relationship was one big lie. If I had a truth serum, I would give it to him. Unfortunately, I did not realize he was a cad early on, and I gave this person everything I could offer, I suffered dearly for my naivety Chris didn't start off a bad guy, he and I had a great friendship-nothing more.
Eventually, I learned that he and his girlfriend were having problems and were no longer together. The relationship between Chris and I blossomed. I became the love-struck girl and gave him everything he asked. Then one day, I showed up at his house. He was not home, but the door was unlocked. No matter what a girl days, they always take an opportunity to snoop. I entered his bedroom. A girly comforter was on the nicely made bed, pictures scattered throughout of Chris and his "ex", women's hygiene products all over the bathroom sink. My heart sank, and my lunch of turkey and cheese leapt up into my throat. I quickly left the room and ran to my car, tears streaming down my face. Once I had calmed down, I called him. I learned that she had never moved out and they had been together the whole time; and what I thought was a promising future, had merely been a "booty call" for him.
I am proud to say that I healed from that heartbreak, but I do regret that I was never able to ask why he would do such a thing. I speculate that he thought it would be fun and adventurous, and I was some mindless entertainment to help get him through the rough patch of his other relationship. Thanks to Facebook, all people have the power to "check up on" most anyone. My recent findings show that he cheated on the girl he chose over me, and he had a baby with his new booty call. Once a cheater, always a cheater.
Week 4: Playing with the truth
B+W Version:
I am at work. I am wearing my assigned uniform: a skirt, bustier, and black patent shoes. Currently, I am surrounded by other girls in the same uniform. There are alcohols and soda being poured all around me. I step out of the doorway and hear the slot machines. Some people are yelling at screaming, others are sad looking. Slowly, I walk around the floor.
Spiced up version:
As I stand in the service bar, I discreetly try to re-adjust my bustier top. My ribs feel like an elephant is sitting on them, and I swear I can't breathe. Around me, my co-workers scramble around to pour drinks and add the finishing touches to their drinks. One drink is bright blue with skewers of pineapple floating on top, I lick my lips and wish that I could just sip it a couple times. I glance at the clock, and realize that I have been wasting too much time in the service bar. I grab my tray, and head out the archway towards the sounds of the clanging and dinging of slot machines. In the distance, someone is screaming, I recognize the yells, and I laugh to myself. There is one "screamer" that gets excited for every won nickel. As I swish by the chairs full of people, I see one person, arms covering the slot machine. His long scraggly beard nearly touching his chest as he bowed his head, almost afraid to look at the monitor. He looks sad and depressed, I slowly keep walking.
Super Spiced Up Version:
I stand in the middle of the service bar at work, adjusting my uniform because I can't breathe and my ribs are slowly being crushed. My co-workers prepare drinks around me and quickly run out the door. I grab my tray and follow them out. Once outside on the floor I enter a vast 3 story casino, with a Cirque De Soleil performance at the far end. Everyone in the casino is dressed in a long dark velvet robe, as they sip their free beverages. I begin to make my way through the casino, dodging fire-eaters and sword swallowers as I try to get to my assigned work section. In the distance people are screaming for joy. In this casino, no one is sad as they take in the sights, sounds, and smells.
I am at work. I am wearing my assigned uniform: a skirt, bustier, and black patent shoes. Currently, I am surrounded by other girls in the same uniform. There are alcohols and soda being poured all around me. I step out of the doorway and hear the slot machines. Some people are yelling at screaming, others are sad looking. Slowly, I walk around the floor.
Spiced up version:
As I stand in the service bar, I discreetly try to re-adjust my bustier top. My ribs feel like an elephant is sitting on them, and I swear I can't breathe. Around me, my co-workers scramble around to pour drinks and add the finishing touches to their drinks. One drink is bright blue with skewers of pineapple floating on top, I lick my lips and wish that I could just sip it a couple times. I glance at the clock, and realize that I have been wasting too much time in the service bar. I grab my tray, and head out the archway towards the sounds of the clanging and dinging of slot machines. In the distance, someone is screaming, I recognize the yells, and I laugh to myself. There is one "screamer" that gets excited for every won nickel. As I swish by the chairs full of people, I see one person, arms covering the slot machine. His long scraggly beard nearly touching his chest as he bowed his head, almost afraid to look at the monitor. He looks sad and depressed, I slowly keep walking.
Super Spiced Up Version:
I stand in the middle of the service bar at work, adjusting my uniform because I can't breathe and my ribs are slowly being crushed. My co-workers prepare drinks around me and quickly run out the door. I grab my tray and follow them out. Once outside on the floor I enter a vast 3 story casino, with a Cirque De Soleil performance at the far end. Everyone in the casino is dressed in a long dark velvet robe, as they sip their free beverages. I begin to make my way through the casino, dodging fire-eaters and sword swallowers as I try to get to my assigned work section. In the distance people are screaming for joy. In this casino, no one is sad as they take in the sights, sounds, and smells.
Friday, September 13, 2013
Prompt 3: Setting the Scene
I sat in a Starbuck's cafe' sipping my Frappachino. I sat on the couch in front of the warm, crackling, fake fire. To my right, a few mid-20 somethings sat with their laptops working on homework. One girl was not properly dressed, you would have thought that it was mid-December. She wore a puffy jacket with a scarf wrapped tightly around her neck, a hot cup between her hands as she blew into it to cool it. I smirked at her and figured she must be a tourist. I hate tourists. To my left, was a business man slouched in a over-sized leather chair. He had 2 steaming cups next to him as he scrolled though his phone. In my past time, I like to speculate on people. I guessed that this man was waiting for his girlfriend/wife, the way he was practically giggling into his phone was a dead give away to me. I squinted to see if I could notice a ring. Yep, there was one. He was waiting for his girlfriend. dirty bastard, I thought. My double chocolate chip frappachino with a shot of peppermint and long ago run out, I sighed and debated buying another one. I glanced at the calorie count of the frappachino, I winced and decided that another one was not needed. As I walked to my car, a pretty, youngish woman whisked by me. I bet that's the girlfriend I thought, and laughed out loud.
Prompt 2: Dialogue between two people
Two people sit at a table, across from each other. The woman is in her early 20's with long brown hair, and very slight frame-like she hasn't eaten properly in months. The man is in his early 20's as well, blonde, fat, and has the beginnings of a red round nose and red cheeks from his apparent drinking. The two appear to be fighting.
"Look Burt, I just want out, I am so over this relationship and over you drinking and playing video games every night"
"Talia, you can't just leave, you made vows and promises to me!"
"Yea I may have made promises but you aren't being a proper husband, so as far as I am concerned this marriage has been doomed from the beginning. You drink, smoke, and stay up to 2 am playing video games! You don't work, you don't clean the house, you don't do anything!!"
"I can't live without you, you can't leave me..PLEASE!?"
"I warned you along time ago that it was going to come to this, and you apparently did not care, 'cuz you kept doing the same shit that I told you upset me. THEN you had the nerve to invite your lazy, good for nothing best friend to live with us. So now I have two of you! You both drink and smoke and drive me insane! I need to leave now"
The girl stood up and grabbed the bag that was next to her leg. She stood there for awhile staring at Burt as he bowed his head onto the table, looking sad and dejected.
"Look, this is not what I want to do, I still love you a lot, But I think that we were waaaay to young when we got married, and I think that we just need to start over and go back to being kids in our 20's."
She whispered this softly and put her hand on the man's head, caressing it as she talked. A few tears fell out of her eyes and rolled down her cheek. She quickly wiped them away, and turned to the door. She paused at the door as Burt raised his head to say one last thing,
"If you walk out that door, don't plan on coming back."
Talia paused and bent her head to her chest, took a deep breath and put her hand to the door handle.
"OK Burt, I love you"
She whisked the door open and was gone.
"Look Burt, I just want out, I am so over this relationship and over you drinking and playing video games every night"
"Talia, you can't just leave, you made vows and promises to me!"
"Yea I may have made promises but you aren't being a proper husband, so as far as I am concerned this marriage has been doomed from the beginning. You drink, smoke, and stay up to 2 am playing video games! You don't work, you don't clean the house, you don't do anything!!"
"I can't live without you, you can't leave me..PLEASE!?"
"I warned you along time ago that it was going to come to this, and you apparently did not care, 'cuz you kept doing the same shit that I told you upset me. THEN you had the nerve to invite your lazy, good for nothing best friend to live with us. So now I have two of you! You both drink and smoke and drive me insane! I need to leave now"
The girl stood up and grabbed the bag that was next to her leg. She stood there for awhile staring at Burt as he bowed his head onto the table, looking sad and dejected.
"Look, this is not what I want to do, I still love you a lot, But I think that we were waaaay to young when we got married, and I think that we just need to start over and go back to being kids in our 20's."
She whispered this softly and put her hand on the man's head, caressing it as she talked. A few tears fell out of her eyes and rolled down her cheek. She quickly wiped them away, and turned to the door. She paused at the door as Burt raised his head to say one last thing,
"If you walk out that door, don't plan on coming back."
Talia paused and bent her head to her chest, took a deep breath and put her hand to the door handle.
"OK Burt, I love you"
She whisked the door open and was gone.
Prompt 1: Go to a crowded public place and be a fly on the wall
As I sat in the Eagle's Nest Cafe', I happened to overhear the following conversation:
"So, I heard that she passed out at the party and Greg had to carry her home." She said this sentence so violently that her pony tail whipped all around her head.
"O-M-G! No way?! She is such a lightweight..."
The two girls took a few bites of the sandwiches in front of them, and I took a moment to study them. Both girls were probably 19 and cared way too much about their appearance, they had heavy make-up, perfect hair, and expensive clothes. I surmised that they were probably daddy's girls and had never worked a day in their life. Suddenly, the first girl with the pony tail set her sandwich down and began to talk again,
"Yea, so she was totally wasted and after Greg carried her home he said that he tucked her in and left. BUT, when I was coming home, I saw Katie outside with some guy, and he was way too tall to be Greg."
The other girl's eyes widened and she stifled a giggle
"So wait, your telling me that Katie might be cheating on Greg? Did you see who he was??"
"No, It was like 2 AM and I couldn't get a good look"
"So not only is she a lightweight, she is a whore too" She laughed and shook her head in disbelief.
Week 3 Theme: scene-setting and dialogue
Dialogue of my morning:
I opened my eyes and slowly stretched my arms and inhaled deeply. I noticed that I was in bed alone, except for my puppy, who laid at the foot of the bed looking sad and melancholy. I sat up and began to pet her.
"Hi baby girl.." I said.
She looked up at me with her big brown eyes and received the petting, when I stopped she looked disappointed in my effort. I walked into my kitchen and saw that my boyfriend was already making his lunch for work.
"Good Morning.." I said between yawns.
"Well, look who finally decided to get up?"
I gave him, what I hoped, was a scathing glare and turned on my heel towards the fridge. He laughed and continued to make his sandwich. I grabbed the milk, a bowl, and my good ol' cap'n crunch and sat at the table quietly eating my cereal. By now my boyfriend had joined me at the table, and while he ate he thumbed through the news on his phone.
"Hey, did you know that they are making a Saul Goodman spin-off show?"
(For those of you that do not watch the AWESOME tv shows, that is a reference to Breaking Bad)
"Ya", my voice dripping with sarcasm "That's been in the workings for a while, like 2 or 3 months..."
"Oh, I didn't realize"
"Yea, all the skeptics think that since it is a pre-quel show, that means Saul is gonna get killed off in the end of this season of Breaking Bad. So they would HAVE to go back to the beginning since continuing the show wouldn't be an option."
By now I had finished my cereal and I got up to put the dish in the sink, then clean up my boyfriends lunch making stuff that had been left on the counter. He went to go start his car, then he came back inside. The puppy met him at the door, wiggling her tail and doing her "Jelly Bean/Kidney Bean dance". He petted her briefly and met me in the kitchen to grab his lunch and say good-bye.
"Am I gonna see you on my lunch?"
"Yea, I should be able to meet you, I gotta knock out all my English homework this morning though"
"OK, well let me know what you decide to do"
"Oh, don't worry, I will meet you on your lunch", I handed him his lunch box and gave him a kiss, and said,
"Have a good day, babe...I love you!"
"I love you too"
I opened my eyes and slowly stretched my arms and inhaled deeply. I noticed that I was in bed alone, except for my puppy, who laid at the foot of the bed looking sad and melancholy. I sat up and began to pet her.
"Hi baby girl.." I said.
She looked up at me with her big brown eyes and received the petting, when I stopped she looked disappointed in my effort. I walked into my kitchen and saw that my boyfriend was already making his lunch for work.
"Good Morning.." I said between yawns.
"Well, look who finally decided to get up?"
I gave him, what I hoped, was a scathing glare and turned on my heel towards the fridge. He laughed and continued to make his sandwich. I grabbed the milk, a bowl, and my good ol' cap'n crunch and sat at the table quietly eating my cereal. By now my boyfriend had joined me at the table, and while he ate he thumbed through the news on his phone.
"Hey, did you know that they are making a Saul Goodman spin-off show?"
(For those of you that do not watch the AWESOME tv shows, that is a reference to Breaking Bad)
"Ya", my voice dripping with sarcasm "That's been in the workings for a while, like 2 or 3 months..."
"Oh, I didn't realize"
"Yea, all the skeptics think that since it is a pre-quel show, that means Saul is gonna get killed off in the end of this season of Breaking Bad. So they would HAVE to go back to the beginning since continuing the show wouldn't be an option."
By now I had finished my cereal and I got up to put the dish in the sink, then clean up my boyfriends lunch making stuff that had been left on the counter. He went to go start his car, then he came back inside. The puppy met him at the door, wiggling her tail and doing her "Jelly Bean/Kidney Bean dance". He petted her briefly and met me in the kitchen to grab his lunch and say good-bye.
"Am I gonna see you on my lunch?"
"Yea, I should be able to meet you, I gotta knock out all my English homework this morning though"
"OK, well let me know what you decide to do"
"Oh, don't worry, I will meet you on your lunch", I handed him his lunch box and gave him a kiss, and said,
"Have a good day, babe...I love you!"
"I love you too"
Friday, September 6, 2013
Week 2: Myself in History
The day that is now known as 9/11, holds such a different memory for me. I was 10 or 11 at the time, and that day started off as any other. I was in English class and was not paying attention, as I scribbled pictures of eyeballs with long, flowy eyelashes. Finally, the bell rang and I jumped out of my desk and I was out the door like a shot. I breezed to my locker, and grabbed my flute. For today, all my practicing and long lessons were going to finally be worth it; since, I was trying out for band. I hurried to the band room and began to prepare my flute.
First, I had to put it together, then played a few notes to warm and expand the metal. I waited patiently for the other band members to arrive and prepare their instruments. I barely remember my audition, but I must have done well. Not only had I made band, but I remember happily skipping to my classroom for next period. I skipped all the way into the classroom, a huge smile on my face. I was met with faces of gloom. Everyone chastised me for my smile, and asked me questions like "How could you be happy? The twin towers fell, why are you such a jerk?". I gave them the "I-don't-give-a-crap" look and continued to my desk. It wasn't until parents began to burst into our small christian school, grab their children and go home, that I realized something bad had happened.
I was excited to be out of school early and tried to tell my mom about my exciting news on the drive home. She barely paid attention as her eyes scanned the sky and sped home. My mother speeding was most unusual, even at age 10 I teased her about driving like a grandma. Finally, we arrived home. My father already had the tv on and we swarmed around it. I will never forget those images that flickered across the screen. My mouth was agape with horror and I instantly felt bad for smiling all day. I lived in a sheltered home, I had never seen or heard of the twin towers. However, that day, the images of those two buildings collapsing will always be ingrained in my brain.
First, I had to put it together, then played a few notes to warm and expand the metal. I waited patiently for the other band members to arrive and prepare their instruments. I barely remember my audition, but I must have done well. Not only had I made band, but I remember happily skipping to my classroom for next period. I skipped all the way into the classroom, a huge smile on my face. I was met with faces of gloom. Everyone chastised me for my smile, and asked me questions like "How could you be happy? The twin towers fell, why are you such a jerk?". I gave them the "I-don't-give-a-crap" look and continued to my desk. It wasn't until parents began to burst into our small christian school, grab their children and go home, that I realized something bad had happened.
I was excited to be out of school early and tried to tell my mom about my exciting news on the drive home. She barely paid attention as her eyes scanned the sky and sped home. My mother speeding was most unusual, even at age 10 I teased her about driving like a grandma. Finally, we arrived home. My father already had the tv on and we swarmed around it. I will never forget those images that flickered across the screen. My mouth was agape with horror and I instantly felt bad for smiling all day. I lived in a sheltered home, I had never seen or heard of the twin towers. However, that day, the images of those two buildings collapsing will always be ingrained in my brain.
Week 2: Prompt 3
It was the first, but not the best--or was it?
My first day of college was an intimidating thing. I had no clue that you were supposed to buy your books; silly me, I thought they handed them out like in high school. I also was unable to even find the hall or the classroom number that I was supposed to go to. By time I showed up to the classroom, everyone had already left. Apparently, the teacher had just handed out the syllabus, explained a little about the class, and then dismissed everyone-and they had all left. Humiliated, I shuffled back to my car, not really sure what I was supposed to do next. As I sat in the driver's side seat, I happened to glance at the time, joyfully I realized that my class didn't start for another 30 minutes. In my haste, I had read the clock wrong. I skipped to the classroom and happily noticed that I was the first to arrive. Sadly, I think that was the ONLY time that I was on-time for that class.
My first day of college was an intimidating thing. I had no clue that you were supposed to buy your books; silly me, I thought they handed them out like in high school. I also was unable to even find the hall or the classroom number that I was supposed to go to. By time I showed up to the classroom, everyone had already left. Apparently, the teacher had just handed out the syllabus, explained a little about the class, and then dismissed everyone-and they had all left. Humiliated, I shuffled back to my car, not really sure what I was supposed to do next. As I sat in the driver's side seat, I happened to glance at the time, joyfully I realized that my class didn't start for another 30 minutes. In my haste, I had read the clock wrong. I skipped to the classroom and happily noticed that I was the first to arrive. Sadly, I think that was the ONLY time that I was on-time for that class.
Week 2: Prompt 2
Looking in that photo album, I see--
A very skinny, gangly kid, with a mop of dirty, un-combed hair. I was definitely the ugly duckling of my class, but luckily I grew into the buck teeth, ran a comb through my hair, and got contacts. Thinking back, I don't remember feeling dowdy or ugly-I was accepted for who I was, flaws and all. I think I made up for my appearance in personality. I have always been a jokester and a comic and people gravitated towards my energy. Sure, I could have never done stand-up comedy as a living, but my close group of friends got me and thought I was hilarious.
As I flip through the photo albums more, I see a girl who is desperately trying to fit in with the boys. I remember having a falling out with my girl friends and I decided that boys were less catty anyways. So, I bought some Adidas sneakers with the 3 stripes on the side, and wore baggy t-shirts/pants. I played basketball, softball, soccer, cross-country and track; I enjoyed every single minute.
As I flip further through the photo albums, my pictures start to fade and I am barely in the albums, except maybe at holidays or birthdays. I figure the reason for this is once you move out, you start missing out on family life and all the events that families attend together. When I was 18, I didn't care that I was gonna miss out on these outings, I was ready to explore the world, move out, and become rich and famous. While I have successfully moved out, my other aspirations are merely a dream, which I hope to one day fulfill.
A very skinny, gangly kid, with a mop of dirty, un-combed hair. I was definitely the ugly duckling of my class, but luckily I grew into the buck teeth, ran a comb through my hair, and got contacts. Thinking back, I don't remember feeling dowdy or ugly-I was accepted for who I was, flaws and all. I think I made up for my appearance in personality. I have always been a jokester and a comic and people gravitated towards my energy. Sure, I could have never done stand-up comedy as a living, but my close group of friends got me and thought I was hilarious.
As I flip through the photo albums more, I see a girl who is desperately trying to fit in with the boys. I remember having a falling out with my girl friends and I decided that boys were less catty anyways. So, I bought some Adidas sneakers with the 3 stripes on the side, and wore baggy t-shirts/pants. I played basketball, softball, soccer, cross-country and track; I enjoyed every single minute.
As I flip further through the photo albums, my pictures start to fade and I am barely in the albums, except maybe at holidays or birthdays. I figure the reason for this is once you move out, you start missing out on family life and all the events that families attend together. When I was 18, I didn't care that I was gonna miss out on these outings, I was ready to explore the world, move out, and become rich and famous. While I have successfully moved out, my other aspirations are merely a dream, which I hope to one day fulfill.
Week 2: Prompt 1
The stuff I've collected over the years in my little box/bureau drawer/keepsake chest marks every step of my way.
I have never really traveled much, but I always wanted too. I think that the farthest that I have gone (in the US) is to Chicago, IL, and Prince Edward Island (Canada). This is a fairly small radius compared to the size of the earth. However, since I could talk/walk, I have always collected something from my travels, a smushed penny. Each place that my family and I went always had one of those crank machines. I would slways hurry over, pay $0.51 and out would pop a flattened penny, with a imprint of the chosen design. My keepsake box is overfilling with the buggers. It's become an addiction actually, I see one of those machines and I just NEED to insert a penny, and crank the handle. Sometimes, it is fun to reminisce over these pennies and remember all the places that I have gone and seen. Other times, it just makes me gloomy that I am still stuck in Bangor, and I have yet to see the world.
I have never really traveled much, but I always wanted too. I think that the farthest that I have gone (in the US) is to Chicago, IL, and Prince Edward Island (Canada). This is a fairly small radius compared to the size of the earth. However, since I could talk/walk, I have always collected something from my travels, a smushed penny. Each place that my family and I went always had one of those crank machines. I would slways hurry over, pay $0.51 and out would pop a flattened penny, with a imprint of the chosen design. My keepsake box is overfilling with the buggers. It's become an addiction actually, I see one of those machines and I just NEED to insert a penny, and crank the handle. Sometimes, it is fun to reminisce over these pennies and remember all the places that I have gone and seen. Other times, it just makes me gloomy that I am still stuck in Bangor, and I have yet to see the world.
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