Announcements, Short Stories


Ah, the week has finally come. I have worked twelve long years to reach this week. Graduation! How sweet the word sounds when I say it, except for when I think about the ceremony I have to attend to get it over with. My graduating class is made up of about 420 other nervous, motivationless teenagers like myself. I think the part I dread most about the whole thing is that, because my last name starts with a “V”, I have to sit in a chair, my heart racing for eternity, while I wait to be called. I know I’m getting a medal at graduation. Will I trip on the stage? Will I look a complete dork when I walk across it? Will I be able to stand my principal long enough to let him hand me my diploma? Will I cry? I can see all of the worst-scenario events happening.

Granted, I’m probably making way too big a deal out of this, but it is probably the biggest event I’ve ever been a part of, and I want it to go quickly and according to plan, whatever the plan may be. Also, my school colors are purple and yellow, and my gown is a giant purple blob. It is not a dull purple either: more like a neon purple, if there is such a thing. I feel like a giant eggplant going to sing in a choir when I wear it, minus the green and the choir book. Oh well, no one said I had to look pretty. Who came up with the acceptable graduation attire anyway? You’ve got to admit, graduation caps look pretty silly if you think about it. Who just decided that wearing a giant, cardboard square on the top of your head was attractive, or that it marked scholarly achievement? I just don’t understand it.

Well, I imagine I’ll be able to tell you all about how it went in a couple of days, if you’re interested, so stay tuned. There’s sure to be wonderful tails of embarrassment coming! :p

Short Stories

The Grape Juice Incident

Before I begin, I would just like to say that this is a true story, although this rendition may be just a tad bit on the exaggerated side.  

It was Friday, and everyone in the high school was ready for the weekend and was sick of being around people. As lunch break began on that never-ending day, all of my classmates stayed inside to eat, so naturally, I decided to step outside because I was feeling like an introvert. It was a frigid day, but I chose to brave the elements and sit with my best friend, who was the only one I felt like being in the company of.

My lunch consisted of the home-packed, rushed-morning type, nothing spectacular. The one thing that I took immense pride in was my water bottle filled with grape juice. To some, that may not seem very exciting, but one must consider that grape juice was a rare find in my home and still is today. My friend and I chatted while eating, and soon I proceeded to wash down my food with that delicious delicacy.

I’m not exactly sure what happened next, but I presume that it was my overwhelming desire to drink the juice and the small opening on the bottle that caused me to spill it all over my person. This wasn’t the bad part. What happened next was totally inconceivable. My friend, who was gleefully laughing at me, exclaimed, “Do you have a hole in your lip or something?”. While she was saying this I had taken another gulp, successful this time in getting it into my mouth. However, I began to laugh at her words, which were far from funny, but as most know, it is nearly impossible to resist laughter induced by a close friend. I laughed. The juice, which was still in my mouth, was forced through none of my doing, but my body’s, up the back of my throat and out my nose. She stared at me with a face not so stunned as mine and, laughing, made her way inside to retrieve the much needed napkins to clean up my mess. While she was fetching the cleaning supplies, I was standing hunched over, laughing, snorting, and watching purple fluid drip off my nose.

Meanwhile, one of my upperclassman had made his way outside and was watching and listening to, with a bewildered look, my interesting movements and snorts as I tried to rid myself of the fluid. I quickly explained that there was nothing to see here; I had simply had some technical difficulties with my grape juice. He walked away afterwards displaying a disgusted face that I cannot describe with words; it was beyond hilarious.

So ends the tale of my grape juice incident. Nothing quite so strange has happened to me at the lunch hour since. I hope the reader has enjoyed my brief and exaggerated account of the daily mishaps that a teenage girl faces.