Friday, February 4, 2011

Day 8 - A Moment

Day 8 was supposed to be "A Moment", but I'm tired and I am trying to burn through all these Cake songs. Seriously, I now own 3.2 hours worth Cake songs, thanks to a good Music Pirate buddy of mine, and I decided that I'm going to listen to every single one today, even if it kills me. I'm about halfway through.


Anyways, because my mind is buzzing with Cake, I can't really think straight. So I'm not going to do a special moment, like the moment I got a puppy for my birthday, or my favorite Christmas.



The Moment I Realized That My Limbs Were Freakishly Long

by Sarah Shill


Many moons ago, when my family was into making home videos, there was a video made of me. I was laughing hysterically on the ground. I can't remember why I was on the ground. The next day, when I watched the video, it came to my attention that my legs were rather long. And my arms. I was like Spongebob or something. It was weird. And I thought to myself "Wow. I am kind freaky. I thought I had a generally normal body, but now I see that I am not normal. I wonder if as a child, my arms dragged around on the ground when I walked."

It's not like I was particularly tall, it's just that my legs took up like 50% of my body.

Anyways, yeah. 3 years later, here I am. I think my legs are really cool. Probably my best feature.


That was incredibly stupid. Ah well.












In my opinion, this is lame. Not specific enough. A moment? Trying to think of just one will probably take me hours, because I am the most indecisive person ever known.




Ah, my brain just thought of one moment.


It wasn't a good one.




The Day I was Late for Class


By Mallory Dixon




One day, it was my fifteenth birthday and I was giddy and excited, carrying around the purse I had gotten for last Christmas. It was black and shiny. I had Algebra 2 honors first class in the morning, and I thought "Hey, why not take my purse to class. Heck, it's my birthday."
I happily skipped to class through the boring and yellow halls of high school, sneakily carried my purse to class.
But wait, my teacher saw my purse.


Of course, the bell had already rung.
She told me in her caramel-y voice, coated in too much sugar
and a sprinkle of (maybe more than a sprinkly)
SARCASM:


"Mallory, you can't have purses in class, you need to go put it back in your locker."


I groaned and tipped my head back,
eyes rolling.


I then proceeded to mumble and groan,
"There are only a few more seconds till the bell rings!"


She replied with even more coats of sugar:


"Yes, you need to hurry uhhhhup!"


AGH!


So I proceeded to walk back down the ugly hall, down the stairs that were blurred by the tears building up in my eyes.


I was in tears, sobbing by the time I got to my locker around the corner.
I passed a substitute lady who asked what was wrong.


I told her that it was my birthday and my teacher made me be late.


She was sympathetic, and I was grateful for her.


I went to the commons to fill out a slip on "why I was late."
I wrote:


"I was late to class because I had my purse and my teacher made me go back to my locker just as the bell was going to ring."


Then, to top it all off, I went to class with a red, splotchy face and had NO idea how to do the concept quiz.


I hated that class.


And that was the amazing start to my fifteenth birthday.


-Mallory


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