Announcements, Short Stories

Graduation

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

Advice

Post, post, post some more

When faced with the decision to blog or not, I often opt to not, simply because I whine myself out of it. I tell myself, no one will read your posts anyway, and they kinda suck, and… etc. etc. Then, I have to remind myself that Rome wasn’t built in a day, and if I don’t post, people won’t find or follow. So maybe I should post more often… just a thought.

Short Stories

Children

Children are certainly one of life’s most interesting wonders. They are all very different, but somehow manage to also be very much alike.

For example, almost all of them have disgustingly repulsive habits, are remarkably rebellious between the ages of two and four, and have very strong opinions about which food should be considered untouchable, and toxic to the human body. Their differences are much more profound. Some children I’ve met are undoubtedly more intelligent than I, and are happiest when left alone to observe the world around them. Others, well… sometimes I wonder if they were born without a brain. Usually they grow one, but sometimes kids are just space cadets.

Here are two real-life examples of kids that I have known, kids who I would venture to say are polar opposites. The first, a girl, was around eight years old when I made her acquaintance. She attended the same K-12 school as I, and, since there were only about ninety students, I saw her often. She had frizzy, dark brown hair, some sort of skin condition that caused her to contract acne-like bumps around her mouth, and a princess-like demeanor about her that suggested that she thought the world revolved around her. So far, she sounds about normal right? Just you wait.

Every Friday before school began, our entire student body would gather in a half-court gym and listen to a bible study that our principal would deliver. It was specially tailored for the attention span of adolescents and small children, and our principal did his best to allow time for interaction with the audience. He might ask a first grader to answer a question, then move on to a high school student for some deeper insight.  Now that you have a better understanding of the circumstances, enter stage right the little girl I told you about just a moment ago. My principal loved to ask her thought provoking questions, because she was what one might call a mind-wanderer. It was as if her thoughts were not linked to the information being presented to her, and she would answer the questions with answers that were as random as they could possibly be. For example, my principal may have once asked if being asked by God to stand in front of a giant like David was would have been scary, she might have replied,  “We got a new cat, and she likes to purr!”

There is one other such instance which I can remember quite clearly concerning the little girl. She was on her way to the restroom, which wasn’t very much of a way to go, considering that our entire school consisted of one hallway with two branches. However, on her way there, she turned and began to study the wall and talk to herself, then began looking up at the ceiling. One of my teachers asked her what she was doing, and she promptly replied that she had gotten lost. In short, this little girl most definitely fits into the category I label as “space-cadet”.

The other child I would like to tell you about is a boy. He is seven years old. I was in charge of babysitting him one evening, as I am so often assigned to do, so I decided to make the best out of it and get to know him. Upon having only a brief conversation with him, I realized that he was brilliant. His vocabulary well exceeded his years, and he used the words with perfect understanding of what they meant and where they were to be placed in conversation. I was, to say the least, impressed. At some point in the evening, I told him how old I was. He looked at me as I told him, and nodded his head. Later, I put on a movie that I had a great fondness for, as it was one that I watched several times when I was little. I told him that it had been the first movie I ever went to see in theaters and gave him a year to go along with it. He averted his gaze from the movie and, within thirty seconds, had done the math in his head to be able to tell me how many years ago it had been since I first went to the movie theater. He is only seven! Needless to say, this kid is practically a genius; hence, he falls into the smart-kid category.

That is all I have to share with you today, but I do hope you enjoyed my insight on children, and hope that you’ll let me know if you did. Also, please, if you have any ideas for blog posts that you’d like to read, let me know. Have a great Sunday!

Poems

Flip-Flop Phantom

It is silent, all is quiet in the dark

I can hear him coming down the hall; there is his trademark

Flip, flop, scurt, squeak

Flip-flop phantom

 

I am frightened, all is still

I can feel his presence in the room; bring shudders down my spine he will

Flip, flop, scurt, squeak

Flip-flop phantom

 

The sound stops, I feel a stare on me

I am chilled to the bone; whoever’s there my eyes cannot see

Flip, flop, scurt, squeak

Flip-flop phantom

 

Worried for my own security, wondering who I will find

I switch on the light; upon him will brightness finally shine

Flip, flop, scurt, squeak

Flip flop phantom

 

No longer is there fear, silence is calm

I am embarrassed; sweat is wiped from my palms

Flip, flop, scurt, squeak

Flip-flop phantom

 

 

 

 

Short Stories

If Only I Had Known

Yesterday, when I went out for lunch, I met the love of my life. I was hardly anticipating her arrival, but then again, a beauty like this one didn’t come around often enough to be expected. She was unmistakably attractive, although her behavior suggested a rough exterior. I thought I knew better. If I could only get close to her, I knew I’d come to find a soft and gentle interior, capable of melting the heart of even the strongest man. Even the way she smelled attracted me. It was when she floated by my table that I caught the faintest hint of her seductive aroma and felt myself drooling over her. Trying to resist, to compose myself, I stayed in my chair. Only with time would she be ready for me. I attempted to keep my eyes off of her, to act nonchalant. Before long, however, I gave up; I just couldn’t look away. Every sound she made, every adornment that she wore, all of it was perfect. I even felt myself becoming jealous when I noticed another man looking at her. In a burst of emotion and without a second thought, I rushed to her side and grabbed her. I carried her to my table, speaking softly to her of all the plans I had in mind for us. As she stared up at me, drinking in every word, she beckoned me closer, eagerly displaying her sharp cheddar cheese, her juicy tomatoes, and her well-seasoned salami. Longing in my eyes, I stared back at her, reluctant to destroy the beauty in front of me. She began serenading me with her sizzling, a song filled with emotion and loneliness. She cried to me, pleaded with me to save her from the savages around us, to embrace her and savor her. I looked around. Was it possible that she belonged to another? No one came to steal her from my grasp. I slowly lifted her to my lips, pausing for just one moment more to drink in the lovely perfume that she was wearing. I knew then and there that I would not cease to protect her with my life until she was safely tucked away. No one else would touch her; but oh, if only I had known that the love of my life would leave so soon, maybe I would not have rushed things so. Yes, my lovely Grilled Cheese, if only I had known.