This week...we're wide open to ANY memory you want to revisit and share...so long as it's full of detail and ends with the line: "PS: I don't really think you should do that."
There are many bullets in life that people dodge on a daily basis. Some are small, while others are powerful enough to take a person’s life. On a sunny summer afternoon in mid-July, I potentially dodged the biggest bullet shot towards me.
The experience was in fifth grade when my friend George came knocking on my door. I knew that he was all geared up to go ride our bikes around town. Therefore, I went to my shed and pulled out my old Mongoose. I immediately realized that the tires were low on pressure. Thus, our first stop was the gas station two blocks away. My first mistake, however, was deciding not to put on my helmet because of the unbearable heat.
After filling my tires and aimlessly riding around town for about ten minutes, I recognized that my back brakes on my bike did not work properly. Being ignorant of the potential dangers this may cause, I made the second mistake of the day and kept on pedaling. After cycling down Route 47 for about an hour George and I decided we were hungry. Searching through our pockets for any sort of change, we were able to have a combined total of one dollar and ten cents, just enough for Tony Soprano’s old fashioned garlic knots. While at the pizzeria, George and I faced a dilemma. Our order of garlic knots came with five knots and a side of marinara sauce. Instead of splitting the fifth one in half, we decided to be “idiots” and race for who gets to consume the last garlic knot. Getting a little container to conceal our prize, George puts on his helmet and gets onto his bike safely equipped with properly working brakes.
The race began on George’s street and was planned to last for approximately a quarter mile. After a block of continuously peddling as fast as possible, I took a quick look back. George was right behind me. If I wanted to clinch this race and relieve my hungry stomach, I would have to pedal faster. However, there was a major obstacle. The busy intersection of Delsea Drive was less than a block in front of me and I had no brakes. Worst part of all was that I had to make a sharp left onto Delsea Drive, in order to, get onto the shoulder and not collide with oncoming traffic. As I began to slow down and stop pedaling, I witnessed George pass right by me. At this point of the race I knew I was going to lose, however my worries were about stopping my bike before I went right into oncoming traffic. Regretfully, I was not able to slow down enough and had to make a wide left onto the busy intersection. An oncoming driver began to slam on his horn as I rode right into his lane. I thought the next time I would see anyone was on a hospital bed. Fortunately, that car swerved into the other lane avoiding any impact. At that moment I realized that the driver of the vehicle pulled over and began walking towards me yelling all kinds of profane words. Therefore, I began pedaling as fast as I could to get away and hide. This time I made sure that I would only go straight and not have to make any sharp turns or stops. When I got to a safe location, I decided to go home. When I arrived at my house and checked my Myspace page, I saw that I had a new comment from George. It read, “Yo what happened to you? I thought I’d let you know, that was the best tasting garlic knot I ever had.” At least someone had a pleasant day and was able to relieve their hungry stomach. P.S. I don’t think you should do that.
Every March my family and I go on vacation to Woodloch Pines in Hawley, PA. It is usually towards the end of the winter, but no matter what, there is always snow when we go. Most of the time it is man-made, but one year when we went there was a huge snowstorm. During the winter Woodloch provides a snow tube run with a large banked wall at the end. This particular weekend the snow tube run was shut down because it was too cold and the run was too icy. On the Friday night my brothers, my cousins, and I went out to the snow tube run at night and took out the tubes after one of the employees tipped us off on how to unlock them. My brother was the first one to go down the tube run. As soon as he went down his tube went off the run and headed towards the woods. After hitting multiple trees and rocks he finally came to a halt. Even though my brother had an unfortunate run the rest of my family and I still went down. I don’t really think you should do that.
Every year, for an entire week, my hometown held a carnival in the center of the town to raise money for the township sports programs. The week of the carnival was like a town holiday. Houses were decorated, stores would have sales, and people were happier. The citizens of my hometown were not very close with one another, but during the week of the carnival they treated one another like family. Neighbors would throw parties and invite everyone in the neighborhood, even the people they hated. The carnival always reminded me of the way my dad described Las Vegas. The carnival was full of flashing lights of different colors. Little kids would run through the massive crowd like fish swimming in between rocks at the aquarium. Screams of joy and fear from the children could be heard from all around, along with buzzers and bells from all of the games. Growing up I always looked forward to the week of the carnival, especially when I started to approach the age of thirteen. I was particularly eager for the carnival to come when I was thirteen because I had finally become tall enough to ride some of the more extreme rides. I remember exactly how my day went when I first started riding the intense rides. It was one of my most exciting yet most embarrassing days I had ever experienced. It was a Saturday during the middle of the summer when I decided to go to the carnival. I woke up more excited than ever. I quickly showered, ate breakfast, and got dressed for the day. I texted all of my friends to see who would be courageous enough to accompany me on some of the thrill ride. I was expecting to receive very enthusiastic responses, but I was reluctant to discover that only a daring few would join me. I was disappointed but I was not going to let that ruin my day. The rest of the day went by fairly quickly and then the time finally came to go to the carnival. As my friends and I walked towards the carnival I realized I had not eaten much that day. So the first thing I did upon arriving to the carnival was I ate some funnel cake. I thoroughly enjoyed the warm, powdered pastry, but it did not suffice my raging appetite. I continued to eat curly fries and hotdogs until I was satisfied. It must have been that I was slightly anxious about going on the thrill rides that made me very hungry. After my large snack, my friends and I decided to go on the extreme rides immediately. Our first choice was a spinning ride called The Gravitron. In the Gravitron we would lean against the walls as the ride began to pick up speed and the circular force would become so overwhelming it would pin us against the walls. After the ride was over I was overcame with a feeling of nausea and light-headedness. I wanted to go home at that point, but I could not let my friends think I was making excuses to not go on the most extreme ride at the carnival. So my friends and I proceeded to make our way towards The Zipper. The Zipper is similar to the Ferris wheel except you sit in a caged chair; your chair does front flips and back flips, and the ride spins very rapidly. As I waited in line, my queasiness was becoming much more serious. I recall feeling very dizzy, everywhere I looked I saw spinning lights, and my stomach all the way up to my throat felt like a rock. I began to suck on some mints to ease my biliousness along with my apprehensiveness. The time finally arrived for my friends and I to enter the ride. As the ride began I closed my eyes in a desperate attempt to cease my seasickness, but it was to no avail. As the ride began to flip, the feeling of weightlessness pushed me over the edge and I vomited. Once the ride ended I sprinted home with tears in my eyes and vomit on my shirt. From that day on I have never eaten anything before going on any rides that spin, twist, loop, or flip. P.S. I really don’t think you should do that.
This memory is a rather recent memory. It comes from the first semester of this year. It was a Friday night in early October and my friends and I were getting ready to out for the night. It was around 10:00 pm when we left our dorm. We found a party and it took us around 15 to 20 minutes to get there. When I first walked in the party I saw a few of my other friends there. After I said hi to the other friends I had there I was going to walk down the to the basement to grab a refreshment. As I was walking down the steps a girl stuck her arm out and blocked my path. I then said, "can I get by." The girl didn't say anything she just moved her arm and stared at me. I went down the rest of the steps to the basement and grabbed a drink and then returned upstairs. I found my friends again then started to branch out and talk to other people around the party. After about 10 minutes of doing that I spotted the same girl who blocked my path on the couch. She waved for me to come over to her so I decided to go sit next to her. Once I sat down we started talking and were getting to know each other. We had a good conversation for a little more then 5 minutes so I decided to make a move. As I lean in closer to her some guy walked by and bumped my arm. Of coarse I was holding a drink in that hand and i spilled all over the girl. I was pretty mad when that happened but the girl was a good ten times madder. She got up and stormed upstairs. I just sat there in shock and I thought to myself, did that really just happen. I saw her later that night and i tried to apologize. She simply said, "I won't be talking to you anymore tonight," and she walked away. My friends and I left the party soon after that happened. I could of had a good night but i turned out bad. My advice to all the guys out there is don't spill a drink on a girl at any time. I don't really think you should do that.
It was a cold, winter day. It snowed a couple of days prior to that day and there were small piles of snow around the streets. After a successful day of shopping and catching up with Prakriti, I had to drop her off at her house. I pulled into her driveway as we finished our conversation. She gave me a hug, said bye, and shut the door. Once she finally went inside of her house, I began to back out of her driveway and towards the left. I stopped and then changed the radio channels trying to find a good song and once I did, my phone vibrated. I pressed on the accelerator and I guess I went a little too fast, but I was in control. I looked at my phone and it was Sawan. He told me to stop texting while driving. I went to respond because texting and controlling the wheel wasn't difficult for me; I did it all of the time. I was looking down, typing away, and before I knew it, my car hit a pile of icy snow. I hid the texting part when explaining what happened to my parents. P.S. I don't really think you should do that.
During the summer after my senior year of Highschool my friend, Nick, decide to go out and buy some throwing knives and two swords, a katana and a wakizashi (both are a type of Japanese swords), with the money that he had got for graduation, so the day after he calls me seeing if I want to try them out. Due to my love of blades I said yes. So he came to my house because I had a fairly wood development so not many people would notice us using swords and because I have a fairly open and empty half acre.
We basically made a competition over who was the better by making contest such as who can throw the knives as close to the bulls-eye, who had the fastest and cleanest cut through a piece of wood, who could cut through the thickest piece of wood, and so forth. We were fairly tied and stopped keeping track and more just did it for fun and just practice our skill.
Two of my favorite trials were the last two which were trying to hit an apple from twenty five feet away with the throwing knives and throwing an old soda can weight down with small rocks, and in one smooth move draw the blade from its sheath and cut it. The latter I was better at and got 5/12, and I wound up being to get more accurate and have more control after reusing the cans and practicing. Nick was a lot more accurate when it came to the knives and hitting the apple then I was. He get 6/10 throw and I only got 2/10. Content he stopped, but I wanted to try a few more times, no later than I said that did I throw the knife astray and manage to hit my car tire in the driveway. Looking back we should have done that facing the other way.
Luckily there was a spare and we had another friend who had started mechanics schooling and he came over to change the tire and take the old one away so my parents would not find out. One would think we would stop but we did not. Everything was fine till the very end when we were going to cut a pumpkin. Well a pumpkin is much weaker than wood and I used too much force and the blade went through and toward my foot. Luckily the cut was small and shallow and did not require any stitches, but I did have to get new shoes. I really like those shoes too.
My only encounter with my high school’s administration came in the fall of my junior year. It all started with boredom. Lunch period was loud, obnoxious, and the worst imaginable study environment. And I ate the period before my scheduled lunch in math class, so I didn’t even have a meal to eat. It’s not like I couldn’t socialize with my friends – I did – but the conversations just didn’t entertain me. After only a short time into the year, they actually began to annoy me. So I began looking for something else to do during the period. Although you were technically required to attend your lunch period (not going to class was considered cutting class), they never took role. It was easy, then, for me to start going to the practice room, a quiet study area in the music department, to “practice viola.” In reality, I was hanging out with a close friend of mine in the practice room.
Much like the actual lunch class, our hangouts became routine and somewhat boring. One day, however, the 50 minute period turned out to be very fun. Turns out, the closet where all the drama club’s costumes are kept was unlocked. And we decided to explore it. Inside was a hallway filled with a collection of random costumes from years of performances. At the end of this somewhat creepy hallway, there was a ladder and a small hatch. Like the entrance to the room, the hatch was unlocked. We proceeded. One after another we passed through the hatch, emerging to an unexpected sight. We were above the auditorium, where the lights that shine on the stage are. The floor of this space was made up of a few rickety two by fours. The seats in the auditorium were roughly 30 feet below too. It was actually pretty scary, but really cool. Cool enough to get us wondering what other rooms were unlocked. We were not done exploring the school. Over the next few weeks, we sought out the coolest rooms in the school. Everyone knew there were tunnels underneath the ground floor, but nobody really fully explored them. So during my lunch period, I technically cut class and went into these rooms that were technically forbidden. Among the coolest rooms that my friend and I found were a HUGE backup generator room, electrical room, “room 1,” water room, staircase, and of course the crawlspace. We discovered the door to the crawlspace (the most interesting one, that is) underneath the staircase in the English wing. It was a small, wooden door that was about two feet wide by three feet tall. It had no handle. Somehow, it hadn’t been locked. We had to pry it open, but as far as the administration knows, we found the door ajar. Anyway, the other side of the door was pitch black. There was a light switch… about two feet down the ladder on the other side. The ladder went down a total of roughly five feet. It ended with dirt. There was a huge area down there, at least fifty yards long. We explored the area over a few sessions and had a system to ensure that we didn’t get caught. I easily consider this to be the coolest thing we found in our exploration, so of course I wanted to tell someone about it.
However, when I took another friend to see it, he didn’t quite understand the gravity of the situation. He decided to come out of the tunnel at the worst possible moment – when a teacher was passing by. He ignored the system of not getting caught, and it cost us dearly. She referred us to the principal, who searched our bags. Apparently, kids used to go down there and smoke. We ended up avoiding trouble because we had nothing too suspicious on us. Our parents were called though, as is district policy, which I consider to be worse than detention. We were cutting class and entering a part of the school that we weren’t allowed to be in. We broke two rules at once, doubling risk and consequence. P.S. I don’t really think you should do that.
A few years ago my high school orchestra, band and chorus traveled to Disney World for a brief tour that included a very short performance. The beginning of the trip was the best part. It was a moment I had been waiting for for the longest time. It was the first time I would get to go on a trip to Florida with my friends without parental supervision. I was either a freshman or sophomore in high school when we went on this trip. We got to the airport, waiting of course was the most boring part. When we got onto the plane that was a different story though. There was so much excited chatter going on and we could not wait to take off. And as soon as the plane made its way into the air everyone started clapping and cheering it was so much fun.
The hotel was okay it was the sports hotel how they have different little hotels one sports related and others around the area in Orlando. It was nice they had a large pool out back. The tour was really meant for us to enjoy ourselves we spent all day every day at the parks just running around. The weather was not great it was around this time in February it was cold. We would come back after ten or eleven at night and sit by the pool which would be heated at night so we would all just chill there and hang out together. We held one performance that only lasted like a half hour but it was by the bay so it was beautiful and it was worth it just to perform there.
Two things I would highly not recommend you do, one raise your voice at the adults in charge and second do NOT run around in the parks in the rain and go on rides while it is pouring outside. I learned my lesson from that. The reason I bring up not raising your voice is because there was a situation where one of my friends who was my roommate needed to get back to the room and they told us we had to wait for everyone from our room there were three or four of us. We needed all of us there to check in and get our room keys. And she freaked out and yelled at them not understanding why we had to wait and they were angry with her. And they came by our room and pulled her out and I overheard something about them sending her home if she didn't be respectful. We were warned in advance about being sent home. And second the rain thing is one of the days it was pouring rain at the park and my roommate and I were going up onto a ride and at the time it was not raining. But when we got up there out of the elevator it was pouring outside and there was a family with us in the elevator. I saw them take one look at the rain turn back around and go back down. But my friend Leah dragged me onto the ride and of course we were the only ones. Afterward we were soaked which can be fun except when it is freezing outside. We stopped to get a hot chocolate and a snack and went inside a shop to dry off. Well I wanted to put my sweatshirt back on because it was freezing but that was soaked. The trip was worth it in the end it was a nice class friendly vacation.
The stories of how I broke my arm on two separate occasions are quite intriguing. I was a daring child, but I also followed in the example of others, leading me with two casts on my left arm in about a year a half. The second cast occurred after jumping off of the top bunk of my brother Alex’s bunk bed. It was a Friday night and family friends were over – the mom, dad, and two kids. Dalton, the older of the two, was a year younger than me. He and I were sitting on the top bunk, with all of us kids hanging out in my brother’s room. After some time, everyone started to leave the room and I was the last one to do so. Instead of climbing the later down from the top bunk, Dalton decided to jump off onto the bed below. This was doable since the bunk bed was designed where the lower bunk was perpendicular to the top. Seeing that he did this feat with no effort, I thought I could too. I was older than him, wasn’t I? So I gave it a shot. But behold, I was still a small, six year old girl who was also more fragile than she thought. I landed on my left arm, instantly feeling the pain I once felt months before when I broke the same arm at Chuck E. Cheese. I didn’t going running to my mom, knowing I would just end up at the hospital to get a cast again. Instead I went right to my room, not saying a word to anyone, and no one had actually seen my fall. I thought I could sleep it off and in the morning I would be healed. When I woke up, of course my arm was still throbbing in pain and I was unable to move the lower part of it. Again, I continued to remain silent about the incident and walked around the house all morning, holding my arm like that was totally normal to do. When my mom first saw me that morning, she questioned why I had gone to bed so early and without even telling anyone. I simply replied that I was really tired. She didn’t question that matter any further. But then she noticed that I was continuously holding my arm and finally questioned why. I had the perfect excuse: my arm had fallen asleep. She gave me a skeptical look, but dropped the conversation for a bit. About a half an hour later, she asked me again and with a look of her face, I knew I couldn’t get away with a 30 minute sleeping arm. I fessed up, told her exactly what happened, and soon we were off to the doctor’s office. I made some silly mistakes at this time. I thought my age gave me superiority, I followed someone else’s actions just because, and I tried to hide the truth from my mom. On top of that all, a few days after receiving my cast, I ended up with the chicken pox. And I still have the scars to show. P.S. I don’t really think you should do that.
I was on my way to the greatest two day event of my life, Alpharetta Georgia. In Alpharetta Pretty Lights and Bassnectar (my two favorite producers) were headlining two night in a row back to back with other openers such as Big Gigantic and Beats Antique. I was dying to go, so I asked my grandmother if I could borrow her car. I told her I was going to Delaware, but in reality I was starting an adventure down the entire east coast, all the way to Georgia. The 16 hour drive consisted of my 2 friends and I packed in a Mini Cooper. We were going to drive straight through the night and make a pit stop at the University of South Carolina were we could crash for a few hours before heading to Georgia. We woke up the next morning, didn't waste any time and we were on the road again. When we arrived in Alpharetta our three friends who traveled from Florida met us there, so it was a big reunion for everyone. Our team consisted of 14 people, all of which are my best friends and the 1st night began. The venue was unbelievable, the weather was prime, good vibes all around. Bassnectar opened for Pretty Lights that night were both artist absolutely killed it. That night we went back to our hotel room, met a lot of people and hit the hay for the night. Saturday morning arrived, the last day of the event where Pretty Lights was going to open for Bassnectar. I knew this night was going to be unreal, and I knew this was the night were both artists were going to give it there all. Pretty Lights opened with "Keep Em' Boucin" which got the crowd hyphy, followed by a list of other fire Pretty songs. Bassnectar released new songs, some unbelievable visuals, and mind bending vocals. After the show was over, I kept thinking about how far I was away from home. My parents thought I was in Delaware, but I was 16 hours away and with class coming up on Monday and homework to do I thought it would be best to leave Georgia directly after the show and head home. So we went back to the hotel room, gathered our stuff and were on our way back home. The drive home was intense, the first 7 hours consisted of us driving through the night, cutting into the Appalachian Mountains, but as the sun rose that when the drive started to become unbearable. No sleep and hours of endless roads started to take its effect on me, but I continued to drive. We started to arrive home, we finally got out of Virginia and started making our way through DC, Maryland, and Delaware. As soon as I saw a welcoming sign for PA I was relieved. So relieved that I fell asleep behind the wheel and swerved into another lane. My friends had no reaction besides "Yo dude." and luckily no one was hurt. I thought we were home, but we were stil in PA and we lived in NJ. So the horrible drive continued for another 45 minutes and we were finally home. The lesson I learned is to not drive for 16 hours straight because that is not safe, and highway hypnosis is a real thing. P.S. I don't really think you should do that.
One of my favorite memories that my parents and I have finally started to laugh about occurred after my freshman year of high school. It was one of my biggest mistakes I've made in life but I've learned from it. At age 15, like most young teenagers, I wanted to experience some freedom for once just like the other older kids in my area that I saw having tons of fun. It all started one week when my parents told me my family was going down the shore for the weekend. I really didn't want to go, so I told them I begged them to let me stay home if I stayed at my grandmother's house at night. My parents trusted me enough to be on my own for the weekend as long as I was at my grandmothers house by 10pm on both Friday and Saturday night. During that time, I often just rode bikes with friends and played video games, so they assumed I would do my usual routine and come home on time. I told my friends about the situation and we all agreed that I should do something about it. I made up my mind that I wanted to have a party at my house. I waited until Friday when my parents were gone, and called them and made up that it was my friend's birthday the next night and that he was having some people sleepover to celebrate. It was a complete lie and I felt bad, but it was the only way I was going to get out of having to stay at my grandmother's house. On Friday night, I made some calls and got in contact with a friend who was 17 at the time that was able to purchase alcohol at a run-down store in Camden. My friends and I gathered the cash, and John and I went to the store and purchased way more beer and liquor than we should have at that age. I went back to my grandmother's as planned, woke up early and told her I was going back home to shower. Little did she know, I was clearing out my house so that it wouldn't be destroyed that night. My friends and I went out with our older friend John and purchased the other supplies needed for the party.
8pm came around and people started to show up. We cut the number off at 40, but I soon realized this wasn't what I expected. People were getting out of control because everyone was so young (ages 15-17) and didn't know how to handle their alcohol. A girl threw up on the carpet in the living room and I began freaking out. I than thought to myself that I shouldn't worry and that everything would be fine in the morning. A few hours later and a few drinks later, I got a call from my parents trying to check in with me and make sure that I was at my friends house. I made the mistake of answering the phone in my pocket by accident, which to this day is the reason I was caught. My parents hear the music and proceeded to call my Uncle to ask him to drive by the house. He came to the door and saw what was going on. It was embarrassing, but he cleared everyone out of the house and I was now in Hell. My parents drove back home from the shore. I won't go into detail of what happened to me that night, but I will tell you the next morning was too fun. I learned my lesson that I should never going behind my parent's back. The next few weeks inside during the summer weren't to exciting. At this point in life, its something my family and I have began to laugh about. When I have kids someday, I'll never let them stay home from a vacation for a "friend's birthday."
My best friend Jim and I sat next to each other in our senior year AP United State History class. It was great. Our teacher, Mrs. Danielewski, was this grandmotherly old woman who had literally escaped the holocaust and had lived through a lot of the history that she taught. As we learned about early American History, Jim became very decided on the fact that Aaron Burr was the most evil man in US History. Not Hitler, not Stalin or Mussolini, but Aaron Burr. It started out as hate based on principle; Burr killed Jim’s hero, Alexander Hamilton, in a duel. The story is that when they turned to duel with their shotguns, Alexander Hamilton decided he would not shoot and look for a draw, but then Aaron Burr just shot the founding father. You have to admit, it’s kind of a douchebag move. So Burr fled America and tried to create what Jim refers to as “America II” and declare himself American emperor. He failed, obviously, and was exiled to Europe, where he fathered illegitimate children and died an elderly lunatic, as the story goes.
So Jim really didn’t like Aaron Burr, and because I really liked Jim, I didn’t like Burr either. We would make Burr references throughout the term and compare people we didn’t like to Burr on the metaphorical Douchebag Scale. At some point Jim came up with the idea that he wanted to spit on Aaron Burr’s grave. Months later, I Googled the former vice president’s burial site and found that it was in nearby Princeton, New Jersey. Jim and I frequented Princeton to go to our favorite local place, Hoagie Haven, and so a date was set. When he picked me up for our trip I presented him with a rolled up piece of paper. He excitedly unraveled what turned out to be a map of the Princeton cemetery with Aaron Burr’s grave highlighted in yellow. Once in Princeton, we ate our Phat Ladies excitedly. The Phat Lady is a signature sandwich containing cheesesteak, French fries, mozzarella sticks, and ketchup. It is disgusting and mind-blowingly delicious. Stomachs full, we walked about a half mile to the graveyard and within no time located Burr’s grave. It said nothing about the things we detested him for on his grave marker. And then we did something both liberating and horribly distasteful: we spit on the grave. Not just spit. These were seriously well-placed loogies. I’d be lying if I didn’t confess that we danced a little on it too. It was very funny and was something that I could only ever do with my friend Jim.
A memory I love to revisit is the day I found out that I was able to go to Italy for a month to study art. I applied when I was in 11th grade to go to Tuscany, Italy for a month to study art with the Maryland Institute College of Art (MICA). In order to apply I had to create an art portfolio of 10 to 15 pieces of art that I have done. I also had to write and essay about myself and how going to Italy would benefit me. I started working hard on my portfolio to perfect it with what were my best works of art. I was so excited and thankful for my family who gave up our vacation to St. Thomas Virgin Island to pay for my study abroad, if I would get accepted. Months went by after I applied and then one day I got home from lacrosse practice. There was an envelope on the table with my name on it. I opened the envelope and inside was a letter. The letter said " we have reviewed your application and talked hard about your work. We have had a lot of talented artists like yourself apply, unfortunately you have been put on the waiting list." I was so upset and heart broken because all I have done my whole life was dreamed about going to Italy. I sucked up my emotions though and went on with my life. Another month went by and I was just getting out of school to go to my lacrosse game. I had 6 text messages from my mom and 5 missed calls from her. Needless to say I was freaked out when I saw her, what seemed to be very urgent messages. I called my mom and she didnt answer, I called her again still no answer. I was freaking out. I tried one more time and she finally picked up. She seemed to be very happy and I asked what was wrong. She said I just lost $5000 because you are going to Italy! I became so excited I told everyone on my lacrosse team what was going on and everyone was proud of me. I will never forget that day when my life opened up and has stayed that way allowing me to accomplish and pressure my dreams.
A time in my life I love to reminisce about is the two weeks I spent with some of my close friends as we traveled to France. After taking French for five years, and becoming closer with the classmates and teacher than most others because I saw them everyday for five years, we all had the opportunity to participate in a foreign exchange program. After hosting about twenty French exchange students at our school, we all got together went to the airport on a bus and flew to France. While our host families were spread out a sixty-mile radius from the school the French students went to, many people had at least one American student in their small quaint French town. We spent many days going to iconic French tourist attractions, some with our French students and some with out. For two days out of the two week adventure we stayed in Paris and slept in a hostel close to the center of the city, which allowed us to explore and see the sights and culture anytime we wanted, as long as we were with at least two other people. One of the days we had scheduled events and we went to the Arch de Triumph, the famous Louver with the Mona Lisa and more. As the day came to a close we approached our final tourist attraction in Paris, the Eiffel Tower. We were all very excited and could barley contain our excitement as we waited in line to get in the elevator to the top. After being checked through security a group of us stepped on the elevator and took the long ride to the top. Some people were afraid of heights but either way the view over Paris at night was breathtaking. We spent about half an hour on the top of the world famous tower and a few people bought items from the overly priced gift shop. As some friends slowly tricked in the elevators that were to bring us back down, a few of my friends and I decided to take a less traditional rout. On the count of three we started down the 1700 steps, all the way down the Eiffel Tower. It was exhausting but very fun and I will never forget it. By the time we got ot the bottom the people in the elevator were ready to leave but we didn’t care because were out of breath and just had run down and touched every step acceptable to the public in the famous Eiffel Tower. Once our teacher found out what we had done she said she didn’t think we should have done that because we were exhausted, and when I returned back to my French host family and told them what had happened the couldn’t believe it. Anthony, my exchange student said we would have to go together next time I visited France and run down the stairs again, something I am looking very forward to doing again, no matter how many people say “I don’t really think you should do that”
I came down with mononucleosis (mono) in the latter stages of my junior year. In so many ways, it had reduced me to someone whom I could not recognize. Even on the football field, I could not keep up; I was not myself. When I went back to school not only did I feel out of place, for the first time I had no idea what was going on academically. My teachers reassured me that in due time, I would slowly but surely get back into the swing of things. For each class I was handed a stack of work with no time limit in which, I was to complete and the general consensus that I was to finish what I could, when I could (as long as I kept up with the current material).
Even on the football field, I couldn’t keep up. After a month, I had declined to the point in which I continued to lose more and more playing time. My inability to return to my previous form landed me a spot on the bench and stripped me of my captaincy. In addition, I began to do less and less make up work due to the fact that the disconnect with the material increased daily. My grades began to fall to levels that not only I wasn’t accustomed to but I also was not prepared to deal with. I began to become more and more frustrated because for the first time, I was essentially failing not only academically but also athletically.
I fell behind to a point in which I could not return and nothing was able to get me caught up or keep me on track with the current material. As always I had put on the façade that everything was fine and I had things under control. I continued to hide the fact as best I could; I didn’t want to compromise my ego. I became more and more dormant and complacent with failure. My façade had encompassed me: it had become apart of me. With every decision and failure to achieve, it compensated for my anxiety with the stubborn misconception that putting the work off was the best option so that it could be dealt with at a later time. I never needed to receive help, study for hours on end, or schedule my day around my schoolwork. The truth is, all of the fundamental skills that most people learned in middle school like: studying and time management, I did not because I found it more efficient to do it my way. Luckily, my stubbornness eventually caught up to me and made me a firm believer in not overlooking the little things in life. PS-I really don’t think you should do that.
When i was a sophomore in high school, my girlfriends and i decided we wanted to throw a party. My friend Caitlin rushed into school the next day telling us that her parents were all going to the beach this weekend, and we could throw it at her house, as long as we were smart and could clean everything up before we left. Last minute my friends mom decided she was gonna stay home, and my friend made up that she had a dream that her mom stayed home and got harmed in some way, then her mom felt bad and decided to go to the beach. We invited a bunch of guys, and the party turned out to be crazy. My other friend brought her camera, and we documented the entire night with reckless pictures and videos. To this day when i see the pictures i still laugh. We followed through and everyone helped clean the house, i'm pretty sure the house was cleaner after we left then it was when we got there. Months went by, and her parents never questioned her so we thought we got away with it. After a couple months my other friend uploaded some ridiculous pictures we took to facebook, thinking it was harmless. Turns out one of Caitlin's Aunts had been stalking Caitlin on facebook and saw all these pictures, confused she called Caitlin's mom and she got grounded for a month. Even though she got grounded, to this day we all talk about that party and how insane it was, If only the pictures were never uploaded to facebook.
For some odd reason, every time I decide it's a good idea to go to New York for a weekend or a night it always turns up being a horrible experience. In my senior year of high school a couple of my buddies and I wanted to go to Times Square and hang out. Little did I realize that this would be the first of many more horrible experiences to New York. Getting there was not horrible (besides how expensive it always is) but the real trouble was getting back home. We arrived in New York at around seven at night and we were urging to have a good time already. My one friend said he knew an awesome free place to park, so naturally I blindly listened to him and we went to have a pretty decent night. Returning to the car however was when the tides turned and wouldn’t you guess my car got owed away. The fun part of our journey was well over and now we had the harsh reality of New York to deal with. We ended up having to find the towing place which turned out to be in Brooklyn and we were in Manhattan, get money wired from all of our parents for a hotel and to get the car, and having to stay an extra night. On top of everything else I thought that we would be home by Monday ended up missing my first day of a college class I was taking instead of my last semester of senior year. Needless to say this weekend turned out to be much more of a hassle than a good time. The next time anyone reading this considers going to New York for a night of fun, I don't really think you should do that.
The weekend after New Years my friend and I decided that we wanted to get some of our other friends together and go do something. We had been sitting in his house for a few hours watching TV and playing video games but we got bored of that eventually. We hadn't figured out what we wanted to do yet but we figured we would worry about that later as we usually did. So he called up our friends and only one of them was able to hang out with us and it was this girl we knew from high school. Some people don't feel this way, but me and my friend felt weird with there just being one girl with us, my friend even more so because he had a girlfriend. So he invited his girlfriend too. So we went out to go pick them up. After were all together, we decided to go to the movies. My friends girlfriend and the other girl are both really bad with scary things so naturally me and my friend decided that we were going to see The Devil Inside. There were definitely some scary parts in the movie, but overall me and my friend didn't think it was that bad. But the other too were so scared the whole time. It didn't help that my friend decided to scare them during the movie. I was thoroughly entertained by that. So after the movie was over we drove back to my friends house. During that ride we kept doing things to scare the other two, like saying we thought we saw or heard something, and my friend would start swerving the car acting like he was possessed. So when we got back to the house we decided to stop messing with them because they were getting really freaked out. They wanted to watch something to get the "scary stuff", as they so eloquently put it, out of their heads, so my friend put on an action movie. I'm not really sure how that was supposed to make them not scared though.Anyway, about 30 minutes go by and my friends dog was just walking around the whole time. He decided to bring his rubber toy over to me. Now the problem is that this dog does not know when to calm down or leave you alone, so he just kept bothering me with it. So I eventually tossed it so he would get out of my face. Unfortunately, physics was not on my side when I did that. The toy went to the ground and bounced straight ahead into the big window in the living room. It was dark in the room so I didn't see it go for the window. All I heard was the sound of glass breaking. I was in complete shock as was my friend. Every other time I threw the toy, it bounced off at some angle because of its strange shape. Of course when the window was an option, that was the direction it took. I could not believe what had just happened. My friend said, "this would happen when we're completely sober." I laughed at his comment, but I was pretty quiet for the rest of the night. P.S.- I don't really think you should do that.
I think one of the most, erhm, ‘exciting’ learning experiences of my life came while I was flung through the air from the back of a horse. It was 2007, and I was thirteen. Horseback riding then was my favorite sport, and I had the typical arrogance that came with experienced inexperience.
The horse’s name was Scooby, and he was too tall to be a pony but too small to be a horse. I like to think that he was feeling dejected and hurt at the world for denying him proper equine classification, and that he felt justified in tossing a thirteen year old off his back because of his emo outlook. In hindsight, the reality is that I was just a really overconfident rider. I was in my second year of jumping and my fourth year of riding overall. The stable had become a second home—I loved the smells, the sounds, and the sight of the big beasts. Though I was a regular at the barn, I was always told that I had more to learn. They told me that I couldn’t possibly know everything—but though I nodded my head at the lectures, I was fairly certain that I knew pretty much everything that there was to know about the animals.
Big mistake. Horses are unpredictable animals. They’re big, intelligent herd animals who stick to the pecking order. Despite this, I, a small little shrimp (standing at a full four-foot-six), always figured myself at the top of the pyramid. My self-importance catalyzed my fall. The day I learned my hard lesson, I chalked up Scooby’s anxious behavior to stir-craziness and ignored his warnings that he did not respect me.
Scooby wasn’t a new horse to me. I’d ridden him in the past, but never jumped him. He was a white gelding with streaks of gray coating his muzzle and the feathers of his legs. I hate to admit that I was thrown by such an old geezer, but Scooby wasn’t a green colt by any standards (though he acted like one).
He pranced and threw his head when I groomed him, and when I saddled him and took him for a loop around the ring, he tossed his mane and tried to take the bit between his teeth. When my instructor came out, she sharply criticized my handling of him and made some comments. If I didn’t regain my balance and center, she said, she wouldn’t let me jump.
Jumping, at this time, was a big deal. Everyone wanted to jump. Somehow, (unfortunately), I managed to settle the pony-horse with my instructor’s threat looming over my head. So we started jumping after thirty minutes of simple ring work.
‘Horrific’ is the only word to describe the first few fences. ‘Miserable’ and then ‘disastrous’ soon followed. Scooby kicked up his heels, stopped before fences, or did a jolting maneuver in which he halted and then lurched over the posts with sudden, stomach-dropping acceleration. I nearly fell seven times, and then – I actually fell.
The fence wasn’t even the biggest one! It was a low cross-rail striped white and black – perhaps two feet off the ground. Scooby cantered to the rail, faster and faster and faster – and then, in his fastest stop yet, kicked up clods of dirt and sent me tumbling over the tinny cross-rail. It was a heart-stopping moment. These days I like to describe it as an ‘unscheduled dismount’ – a serious one that dislocated my elbow when I landed.
The experience was humbling. That night, I learned not to let my ego make me ignore other peoples’ advice or warning signs. If I had the chance to go back and change whether or not I jumped Scooby… I probably would do the same thing as I did, despite the pain. The fall helped me mature. My advice to anyone would be, ‘go ahead! Break some bones. It’ll make you better as a person.’
I am pretty sure I was in First grade when this happened. I was always kind of a monkey. I loved climbing on things and had pretty good balance. I was the only kid who could get to the highest bar on our playground, and I loved the monkey bars. But, I was a strange kid. I decided why not walk across the top of the monkey bars. I mean I had seen my older brother do it, and he never got hurt so , why not? well I got to the top of the monkey bars and walked across them. not only was it easy, but it was fun too. Some of my friends started to take notice and thought it was cool too. So I kept doing it sometimes I would try skipping a bar, or jogging or running across. After a while, a bit of a crowd had formed watching me maneuver over the bars, and of course that only tempted me to try more difficult things. I was running across every other bar when I slipped. My body folded in half as I fell through the bars and landed on the playground mulch. Every one thought that I had probably broken a bone or something like that, but when they came over and asked me if I was o.k, I jumped right up and said I was fine with smile on my face. Of course I was actually quite sore, but I was a first grader, I didn't care, I just wanted to get back to playing. I enjoyed walking across the bars and getting to show off to my friends and ended up having a really fun time. P.S I don't really think you should do that.
Future Mini-Ivys: When I was in the third grade, I got my first pair of glasses. They were silver with pink stripes. I forgot to bring them to school weekly and if I did bring them, I probably forgot to wear them once I got there. I never hated wearing them, was never teased or anything, I could simply see well enough without them, so I did not always wear the glasses. Unfortunately, I got my glasses at age eight and as any teacher knows, eight year-olds are the most cautious with their things. I would put them on the floor during circle time or shove them in my desk while reading or set them on the seat next to me during snack time. It was during snack time that Skyler sat on them. He wore glasses too, so he was generally pretty understanding about watching out for them, but that day was different. Mrs. Griscom had just called him up to her desk and scolded him for not finishing his folder that month. He was upset and when he came back he just was not very observant. So they broke. That was not the end of the world though. I brought them to the nurse’s office where she used a miniature screw set to piece them back together. I was back in class within fifteen minutes. I went home and told my mom the entire story and she insisted that I take them to Dr. Kitagawa to be confirmed that they would not break further. Unfortunately, he did not confirm this and instead said to be very, very careful with them as they could break at any time. As previously stated, I was not the most cautious eight year-old, so I definitely did not become super-cautious. Instead, I wore them camping. My entire girl scout troop went. We slept in raised wooden tents and had to use a flashlight to find the bathroom. It was on one such bathroom hunt that it happened. It was the ultimate glasses problem. As I walking, I tripped and my glasses flew off of my face. As they soared, the rammed a tree which meant the weakened frame did not stand a chance. We searched and searched, but after moving all of the dirty leaves in a 10’ radius, my troop leader said that we would have to give up until morning. Needless to say, the missing lens was never recovered. I had to go home and explain to my mother why I could no longer wear my glasses and how they broke. I insisted that I could walk around using only one eye, but she disagreed. My mom was very mad at me and called my irresponsible. I used the fact that we searched for an hour for them to prove my respoinsibility, but 8 year-olds do not argue with their morthers- they always lose. Oh well – I got new glasses. This time I got a case too. P.S. I don’t really think you should do that.
When I was a junior in high school, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part I came out and me and my friend decided to go and see it. So that night we went to the theater and it was packed. I was driving my jeep that night and I went to the bottom of the parking deck, which was a dead end and packed. There was a car that was pulling out and turning around so I was excited that I found a parking space and went to take it. It ended up not being a parking space but I was in a jeep so I started to try to park in it anyway. It was a really tight fit so my friend got out and tried to guide me into it. I was on my way into it and thought I was going to make it in when I bumped the car to the side of me. I immediately tried to back out and the car that I bumped started to shake. I finally back out after much shaking of the other car and get turned around and I look at the other car and it has a huge dent in its rear bumper. I freaked out so much and I sped right out of the row and spiraled around until I was all the way at the top of the parking deck. I parked in a spot and my friend and I went into the movie. The entire time I was still a little freaked out but I started to feel okay. When we came out and pulled out I was still a little nervous because I did not know if anyone saw what I did and was going to approach me, but we pulled out and got on the road fine. On the way to drop my friend off he checked his facebook on his phone and told me about his friend’s status update. His friend’s status said that he had come out of watching Harry Potter and found that his car had a huge dent in it. We did not know if this was the same car that I had bumped or not but we decided that we wouldn’t say anything about it. P.S. I really don’t think you should do that.
It was the night before Thanksgiving and I was driving out to visit my sister near State College. I was having issues with my car-as usual-and the last thing I did before I left was tie the hood down securely because the latch seemed to be broken. Probably should have taken that as a sign that maybe this trip wasn't the best idea. Anyway, it was a snowy night and I headed off on the PA turnpike. I was excited about seeing my family and as I was driving along the snow was making visibility somewhat difficult,but I did have new wipers! I had just had the wiper motor replaced because I had been driving without wipers for about a month and knew that I should have them working for the trip. Did you know that cutting a potato in half and wiping it on the windshield can help repel water when your wipers aren't working (but also carry a squeegee!) The traffic was moving slowly in the heavy snow, and I decided to get over into the other lane and pass some of the slower drivers ahead of me. As I pulled out,I noticed that leading this car parade was a big salt truck spewing salt over the slippery roadway.I was used to driving in the snow and was not bothered by the road conditions. I passed all the cars and the salt truck and cruised along happily singing to a Christmas CD.I then decided to get back over into the right lane.As I did this, I hit an ice patch,lost control of my car,went up an embankment and flipped over and over. I really thought that this might be the end. After a few flips,my car landed upside down on the side of the road. I was strapped into my seat with my hands brased against the roof of the car. There was alot of broken glass and I really had no idea of whether or not I was hurt. Within moments, I heard a voice asking me if I was okay and I could see a couple outside my car. They could not get my door open,but somehow I was able to get myself unbuckled and with all my might I kicked the door open. I was not seriously injured,just incredibly scared. The next thing I saw was the salt truck driver-the one I had just passed-pulling over and walking towards me to see if I was okay. I remember thinking that maybe passing him had not been the best idea. P.S. I really don't think you should do that.
I grew up on a quiet few acres of land that bordered the Delaware river. I loved to look at and try to catch the animals that wandered on the beach and in the woods. One day I was walking in the "golf hole field" with my sister, Veronica, and our older friend Alex. We spotted some canada geese with little goslings over by a marshy pond. We inched closer and closer until we were a few feet from the goslings. Veronica and Alex stopped and watched the babies but I wanted to pet them. So without taking the mother or father into account I approached the goslings and bent over to pet one. The next thing I knew there was a huge goose scratching away at my shoulders and pecking at my head! I shouted for the other two to come help but they were on the ground laughing hysterically. I ran across that field as fast as I could with my hands balled in fists swinging at the goose. It just wouldn't let up. I finally tucked and rolled and it flew off as I began to roll forward and took off back to the rest of the flock it had been with. After a proper assessment from Veronica, we discovered my hair was matted and red where it pecked me and my shoulders were a little raw, which seemed to make it more comical, though overall I was fine. After the attack I held no grudge against geese nor am I afraid of them. I am well aware of what I did wrong, and still feel bad about terrorizing them. P.S. I really don't think you should do that.
I grew up in a small town where there really wasn't much to do. It was sophomore year of high school and there was talk around school of a weekend bonfire in the woods. Literally everyone knew about it. Me and a few of my friends were really excited and decided it would be fun to go. I can remember it like it was yesterday. My two friends and I, had a track meet that day and on the bus the whole way home we were talking about how much fun it was going to be. We went to my house to get ready and then my friend Sarah's dad picked us up. When we finally arrived there were so many people in the woods. We saw the fire but then next to it was a keg of beer. We had never drank before so when we saw the keg we were all in shock. We decided it was a bad idea to drink so we didn't. We were all just talking to everyone and having a good time and before I knew it flashlights were being shined in my eyes by the police. They took everyone to the police station and made everyone call their parents to come and get them. Even though my friends and I were not drinking we still got citations. My parents came to pick me up and I've never seen them so mad in my life. By the next day everything cooled down and they were just happy I wasn't drinking and said that I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. A few months later I finally had my court date and all the charges were dropped because they had no reason to charge us for not drinking. It was a huge relief, and now looking back I realize it probably wasn't the best idea to go there. P.S. I really don't think you should do that.
A month after I got my license I was driving my mom to work, at like 7am in the summer time mind you, so I was really tired. In the summer time there is always construction in my neighborhood so I was pretty pissed that they were blocking my driveway and I had to manuver my car in such a weird way just to get into my driveway and as I was backing up to do that I smacked my moms brand new car into a mailbox and tree.
It was summertime somewhere in between my high school years. I was with my family vacationing in Ocean City New Jersey, the most exciting dry town along the Jersey south central coast. Luckily a bunch of my buddies accompanied me on this vacation to keep things interesting. Days were spent on the beach or playing basketball, while our nights were occupied by strutting the boardwalk looking for female companionship and trouble. We came up with a plan one night which we put into place the next day. We were going boating. Now being high school students with limited income we weren't about to shovel out the necessary money to go on a proper fishing boat or something similar, so we did the next best thing. We bought a raft. You've probably seen these types of rafts on the boardwalk, inflatable and attached to the sides of the shops; a 25 dollar investment and you're officially a boat captain. We bought large beach shovels to use for the paddles since real paddles are expensive and set off for the beach to start our voyage. The boat could only hold two so we had to decide who would go; I got the first spot since it was my idea, and the second space went to Andrew. Andrew was of smaller frame than the rest of use, a trait which was valuable in a cramped boat. He was also the sort of short armed physical freak of nature that could do 30 pull ups and had stamina for days, with paddles as our only form of propulsion these were valuable attributes.
We set off from the beach after the lifeguards had left for the day and hopped into the rafter only after we had battled past the surf. We began to paddle our way out toward the endless ocean horizon. How far we would go or what our actually plan was, well that was never discussed; we only had dreams of floating in the calm ocean current basking in the remainder of the days sun, far away from the sounds of civilization. So we paddled. Now the people on the beach were nothing more than specs as we waved to them, guessing that the group huddled together was our land dwelling friends but unsure. It was at this point, with the sun beating down on us, sweating from our efforts that we realized we probably should have brought some water with us, each salty splash of seawater that landed near my mouth reminded me of this fact. Fortunately we were young and had the mindset that young boys do, we were invincible. No thoughts of turning around we're ever conjured up, much less discussed. At some point we realized there was a commotion of the far away shores we had left behind, as there were flashing lights and emergency vehicles parked on the beach. Suddenly we heard the sound of a motor, and although we didn't' see where it came, there was suddenly a jet ski coming toward us. Apparently by waving to our friends back on the beach, Andrew and I had inadvertently signaled our distress to the other beach goers. We told our jet ski wielding rescuer that we were in no peril, but gladly accepted his offer to tow us in, it was a long way to paddle. After the jet ski made quick work of our return trip we arrived to a beach filled with firetrucks, lifeguards, ambulances and onlookers. We had to give our information to the lifeguards although we were in no trouble, must have been some sort of protocol whenever you waster thousands of dollars worth of rescue services. Andrew and I ate well that night, content in the memories of our voyage out to sea.
Before you read the rest of this story I would just like to tell you that I do not like drama. Drama in this sense is unnecessary bickering between people. My judgment of those situations is that in the end no one wins, and lots of energy is wasted fighting about nothing. It is because of this that I try my hardest to avoid as much drama as I can. It was me expressing this part of my personality that caused me to act out in the way I did last Christmas break. Honestly, I like going to my Aunt and uncles house but I don’t like having to mediate minor conflicts in the house and I don’t really want to know their problems. There are just too many people in the house. My Aunt and uncle don’t have a lot of children but a lot of children of varying age are there all the time usually for one of my three cousins. This does sound selfish but after the amount of time I’ve heard about this or that being wrong, I fake being hyper masculine when I am there to the point that sometimes I act as though I don’t about the next word coming out of the person I’m talking with’s mouth.. It is my way to block their problems because while my relatives are generally happy people, they get involved with way too many people with problems of their own. I can’t stand gossip and I don’t like congestion. Last Christmas break, about a week after Christmas, I went over to my Aunt’s home to get my mine and my mother’s Christmas presents. This wasn’t an “in and out” occasion. My normal plan of visiting when I go there is that I stay there as late as I can so I can see everyone before I left. But when I visit I make sure that I plan how I would leave. Sometimes my plan would change because someone offered me a ride home. This day though went fine until the time came when I had to leave. The plan was for one of my cousins to drive me home instead of me taking a bus. This would allow for me to stay longer so that every person that lived in the house could get a chance to see me. The time came when It was time for me to leave but, the cousin that was supposed to drive me home decided that she was too tired and it was too late for me to be driven home. I can understand that 10 p.m. is late for an hour drive to and from my house but that was the plan we agreed on and that was a the plan I was following. So when my cousin backed out of it I wasn’t having any of that. So I told her to take a half hour nap and then get ready. She took the half hour nap, and when the time came , I went up to tell her to wake up and take me home. Unfortunately, because the house is such a welcoming place, her two friends were there to start trouble by arguing with me saying that I should just stay the night instead of leaving so late. I replied by telling them our agreed upon plan, but they ignored the facts. We went back and forth with each other while my cousin slept peacefully until I reached my limit and decided to take public transportation home. This big problem with my decision was that it was the weekend and public transportation does not come as often as I does on the weekdays. Also since it was late I had to factor in the time I would reach a train station because trains stop running during a certain time interval at night. Despite this I decided to go because my pride wouldn’t let me stay in that house that night. I trudged up to the bus stop and waited hopefully for the bus as if it would decide if I had made the right decision. At 11 p.m. that night a bus appeared in the darkness to take me home. A half hour later, the bus arrived at the train station. Nut instead of taking the train home, by a stroke of luck, a bus that would take me to my neighborhood appeared to wash away any fears of missing the last train that night. When I got home, I felt like the bus’, the time, maybe even the universe was on my side. Despite the time, everything worked out fine. PS. I really don’t think you should do that.
My most recent car that I've owned was a silver, stick-shift 1999 Mitsubishi Eclipse GS. It was a decent car, my dad did a lot of work on it being that he used to be a mechanic, so it ran very nicely. The only things that were wrong with this car were that I kept it completely messy, I slacked on changing my oil for a bit, and most of the tires were almost completely bald of tread. I remember one day last winter being a very bad day to drive; there was snow, ice, and slush covering the roads. I had been driving around with my friend for a bit, just running a few errands around the town. I took a turn off of the main road in Doylestown onto the 611 bypass, this road was completely clear of snow, having been plowed and salted. The only reason I had been surviving that day was because I had learned how to drive stick in the snow and control my car pretty well. Once I got onto 611, I started speeding up because the limit goes up to 55 MPH and I had to merge in. I'm assuming that a plow truck had literally just plowed the highway because there was a straight path of all the snow off of 611 that had been pushed into the merge section. There was about 2 feet of plowed snow just sitting right on the merge area, covering most of the lane as I approached. I didn't notice the mound until I was too close to completely stop. My car was extremely low to the ground, so I knew that this could end terribly if I hit the snow too fast. I downshifted from fifth to fourth and reduced my speed to about 50, because I had been speeding in the first place. I hit the snow at that speed and immediately felt myself jerk into the air, losing control of my car. I gripped the roof of my car as my friend and I screamed at the top of our lungs, sure that we were done for. We were spinning uncontrollably at 50 MPH across 3 lanes of traffic. Luckily we weren't hit before we veered off onto the shoulder and slid to a stop. My car stalled out because I hadn't been operating the manual clutch during the whole dilemma. We were positive we were going to get rammed by another car, flip over and roll across the highway, or hit the guardrail and flip over. It was a terrible experience where my friend and I were lucky to come out of unscratched. The horrifying experience caused me to go buy new tires the next day and always drive with precaution in the snow so that nothing like this would ever happen to me again. So from this experience I learned my lesson for good; P.S. I don't really think you should do that.
While being a freshman in college, I sometimes find it difficult to practice time management skills. I started off the year with a pretty solid schedule. I'd wake up at 8:30AM, shower, attend all my classes, come back to my dorm room and finish my homework assignments, go to the gym with a few friends, eat dinner, finish up the remaining of my homework, and then hangout with friends in the evening. See? It's a pretty solid schedule. Then my social life started to escalate. I was so concerned with making new friends and meeting new people that my academics and routine began to slack. That was when I began to wake up at 11:00AM, miss some of my classes, and slack on homework assignments-definitely not the way I wanted to continue the term. My mood wasn't at the greatest at the time. I became lazy, tired, and unproductive quite often. As you can image, my grades didn't keep up with my expectations. After my first term at Drexel, I promised myself, once again, that I would make a great schedule for myself. Keep my social life a hobby and my academics a priority. I found myself on the track towards success until I reached Math. My worst subject...ever! I wasn't doing as well in the subject so I began to not attend classes. After not doing so great on first exam, I suddenly got a rude awakening. My parents are spending so much money on my education. The least I can do is try my best in my academics. Because of this, I'm doing excellent in all my classes. I don't procrastinate as much. Starting off on a good foot can take you far. However, it's up to you to keep your path free from distractions. So my lesson for today is to procrastinate. P.S. ^ I don't really think you should do that.
I was driving to my high school. To avoid the statistically terrible public schools near my house, I went to a private school about an hour’s drive away. I was running a bit late, and in trying to make it to class on-time, rounded a left-turn as the light turned from yellow to red. Conveniently, this turn took me right around a police car, waiting for the light to change in his direction. As soon as I saw his lights, still unblinking, my heart sank. Would my spotless driving record suddenly have a hundred-dollar tarnish on it? Somewhat terrified, I looked in my rearview mirror to see him pull a U-turn and head after me. His lights were still off, as that was an inconvenient place to pull me over, but I knew what was coming. After we drove a short ways, on the lights went, and off to the side I pulled. As I turned my car off in compliance with state law, it occurred to me that I had planned on going for target practice after school, and had my crossbow in plain sight in the back of my car. As he walked up to my rolled-down window, he paused a moment, as he noticed the crossbow in the back. I cannot forget the ensuing conversation.
“How are you doing, this morning, son?” He asked.
“Honestly, sir, I was doing better five minutes ago,” I responded, unwilling to lie with something ambiguously optimistic like ‘fine’ or ‘alright.’
“That your crossbow?” he questioned, moving on to business.
“Yes, sir,” I responded.
“Where’re you off to?” he prodded.
“Ummm. School,” I stuttered, “then target practice—away from school.”
He nodded his head understandingly and asked where I went to school. It occurs to me now that going to a private school was something of a blessing in this moment. Laws about having weapons in a car on school property are a bit different when state funding isn’t involved. After determining that I was not posing a threat to my peers or teachers, he moved on to the matter at hand. I tried to phrase my responses carefully; never admitting to knowingly running a red, but never denying it either. As the discussion reached its length and I was certainly going to be late, he miraculously, he let me go scot-free. I continued on to school, to target practice, and to not running reds.
P.S. I don’t really think you should take a crossbow to school, or run reds.
During my sophomore year of high school my close group of friends, we called each other The Chiacas, were pretty much inseparable. We had nicknames for each other and our own inside jokes and everything that would make us close friends. My friend Sarah and I had this competition to see who could hug one of my close friends first. We would race over to our friends, running and trying to stop each other by means of pushing, tripping, tricking or any of combinations of the above. Just to see this happen in person was a sight to see. Sarah and I, well we had what you could call an abusive relationship with each other. We were not afraid to playfully become in a sense more physical with each other. With this we would not actually hurt each other just teasingly poke or pretend to hit.
One day when the school was gathering for an assembly, Sarah and I walked together from the first period class. As we walked closer and closer to the gathering area, we spotted our friend group. They were standing in a slightly crowded area of the gathering place waiting and conversing. As soon as we spotted them, Sarah and I looked at each looked back at our friends and knew it was on. We both started walking fast towards our friends trying to get in front of each other. As this progressed we started to get more and more aggressive with our walking. We both tried to push the other out of the way in order to “win”. Our first target to hug was our friend Brittany only because she was the closest one to us. At this point we started to fast walk which turned into a run. We were approaching Brittany faster than we knew and when we reached her we were moving too fast to stop. When we reach Brittany instead of hugging her, our momentum caused us to literally tackle her. We all fell to the ground in a heap on arms, legs, and squeals. Brittany was not enthusiastic at all that we tackled her. Everyone surrounding just stared and watched as we all laid on the ground laughing and giggling.
There are many bullets in life that people dodge on a daily basis. Some are small, while others are powerful enough to take a person’s life. On a sunny summer afternoon in mid-July, I potentially dodged the biggest bullet shot towards me.
ReplyDeleteThe experience was in fifth grade when my friend George came knocking on my door. I knew that he was all geared up to go ride our bikes around town. Therefore, I went to my shed and pulled out my old Mongoose. I immediately realized that the tires were low on pressure. Thus, our first stop was the gas station two blocks away. My first mistake, however, was deciding not to put on my helmet because of the unbearable heat.
After filling my tires and aimlessly riding around town for about ten minutes, I recognized that my back brakes on my bike did not work properly. Being ignorant of the potential dangers this may cause, I made the second mistake of the day and kept on pedaling. After cycling down Route 47 for about an hour George and I decided we were hungry. Searching through our pockets for any sort of change, we were able to have a combined total of one dollar and ten cents, just enough for Tony Soprano’s old fashioned garlic knots. While at the pizzeria, George and I faced a dilemma. Our order of garlic knots came with five knots and a side of marinara sauce. Instead of splitting the fifth one in half, we decided to be “idiots” and race for who gets to consume the last garlic knot. Getting a little container to conceal our prize, George puts on his helmet and gets onto his bike safely equipped with properly working brakes.
The race began on George’s street and was planned to last for approximately a quarter mile. After a block of continuously peddling as fast as possible, I took a quick look back. George was right behind me. If I wanted to clinch this race and relieve my hungry stomach, I would have to pedal faster. However, there was a major obstacle. The busy intersection of Delsea Drive was less than a block in front of me and I had no brakes. Worst part of all was that I had to make a sharp left onto Delsea Drive, in order to, get onto the shoulder and not collide with oncoming traffic. As I began to slow down and stop pedaling, I witnessed George pass right by me. At this point of the race I knew I was going to lose, however my worries were about stopping my bike before I went right into oncoming traffic. Regretfully, I was not able to slow down enough and had to make a wide left onto the busy intersection. An oncoming driver began to slam on his horn as I rode right into his lane. I thought the next time I would see anyone was on a hospital bed. Fortunately, that car swerved into the other lane avoiding any impact. At that moment I realized that the driver of the vehicle pulled over and began walking towards me yelling all kinds of profane words. Therefore, I began pedaling as fast as I could to get away and hide. This time I made sure that I would only go straight and not have to make any sharp turns or stops. When I got to a safe location, I decided to go home. When I arrived at my house and checked my Myspace page, I saw that I had a new comment from George. It read, “Yo what happened to you? I thought I’d let you know, that was the best tasting garlic knot I ever had.” At least someone had a pleasant day and was able to relieve their hungry stomach.
P.S. I don’t think you should do that.
Every March my family and I go on vacation to Woodloch Pines in Hawley, PA. It is usually towards the end of the winter, but no matter what, there is always snow when we go. Most of the time it is man-made, but one year when we went there was a huge snowstorm. During the winter Woodloch provides a snow tube run with a large banked wall at the end. This particular weekend the snow tube run was shut down because it was too cold and the run was too icy. On the Friday night my brothers, my cousins, and I went out to the snow tube run at night and took out the tubes after one of the employees tipped us off on how to unlock them. My brother was the first one to go down the tube run. As soon as he went down his tube went off the run and headed towards the woods. After hitting multiple trees and rocks he finally came to a halt. Even though my brother had an unfortunate run the rest of my family and I still went down. I don’t really think you should do that.
ReplyDeleteEvery year, for an entire week, my hometown held a carnival in the center of the town to raise money for the township sports programs. The week of the carnival was like a town holiday. Houses were decorated, stores would have sales, and people were happier. The citizens of my hometown were not very close with one another, but during the week of the carnival they treated one another like family. Neighbors would throw parties and invite everyone in the neighborhood, even the people they hated. The carnival always reminded me of the way my dad described Las Vegas. The carnival was full of flashing lights of different colors. Little kids would run through the massive crowd like fish swimming in between rocks at the aquarium. Screams of joy and fear from the children could be heard from all around, along with buzzers and bells from all of the games. Growing up I always looked forward to the week of the carnival, especially when I started to approach the age of thirteen. I was particularly eager for the carnival to come when I was thirteen because I had finally become tall enough to ride some of the more extreme rides. I remember exactly how my day went when I first started riding the intense rides. It was one of my most exciting yet most embarrassing days I had ever experienced.
ReplyDeleteIt was a Saturday during the middle of the summer when I decided to go to the carnival. I woke up more excited than ever. I quickly showered, ate breakfast, and got dressed for the day. I texted all of my friends to see who would be courageous enough to accompany me on some of the thrill ride. I was expecting to receive very enthusiastic responses, but I was reluctant to discover that only a daring few would join me. I was disappointed but I was not going to let that ruin my day.
The rest of the day went by fairly quickly and then the time finally came to go to the carnival. As my friends and I walked towards the carnival I realized I had not eaten much that day. So the first thing I did upon arriving to the carnival was I ate some funnel cake. I thoroughly enjoyed the warm, powdered pastry, but it did not suffice my raging appetite. I continued to eat curly fries and hotdogs until I was satisfied. It must have been that I was slightly anxious about going on the thrill rides that made me very hungry. After my large snack, my friends and I decided to go on the extreme rides immediately. Our first choice was a spinning ride called The Gravitron. In the Gravitron we would lean against the walls as the ride began to pick up speed and the circular force would become so overwhelming it would pin us against the walls. After the ride was over I was overcame with a feeling of nausea and light-headedness. I wanted to go home at that point, but I could not let my friends think I was making excuses to not go on the most extreme ride at the carnival. So my friends and I proceeded to make our way towards The Zipper. The Zipper is similar to the Ferris wheel except you sit in a caged chair; your chair does front flips and back flips, and the ride spins very rapidly. As I waited in line, my queasiness was becoming much more serious. I recall feeling very dizzy, everywhere I looked I saw spinning lights, and my stomach all the way up to my throat felt like a rock. I began to suck on some mints to ease my biliousness along with my apprehensiveness. The time finally arrived for my friends and I to enter the ride. As the ride began I closed my eyes in a desperate attempt to cease my seasickness, but it was to no avail. As the ride began to flip, the feeling of weightlessness pushed me over the edge and I vomited. Once the ride ended I sprinted home with tears in my eyes and vomit on my shirt. From that day on I have never eaten anything before going on any rides that spin, twist, loop, or flip. P.S. I really don’t think you should do that.
This memory is a rather recent memory. It comes from the first semester of this year. It was a Friday night in early October and my friends and I were getting ready to out for the night. It was around 10:00 pm when we left our dorm. We found a party and it took us around 15 to 20 minutes to get there. When I first walked in the party I saw a few of my other friends there. After I said hi to the other friends I had there I was going to walk down the to the basement to grab a refreshment. As I was walking down the steps a girl stuck her arm out and blocked my path.
ReplyDeleteI then said, "can I get by." The girl didn't say anything she just moved her arm and stared at me. I went down the rest of the steps to the basement and grabbed a drink and then returned upstairs. I found my friends again then started to branch out and talk to other people around the party. After about 10 minutes of doing that I spotted the same girl who blocked my path on the couch. She waved for me to come over to her so I decided to go sit next to her. Once I sat down we started talking and were getting to know each other. We had a good conversation for a little more then 5 minutes so I decided to make a move. As I lean in closer to her some guy walked by and bumped my arm. Of coarse I was holding a drink in that hand and i spilled all over the girl. I was pretty mad when that happened but the girl was a good ten times madder. She got up and stormed upstairs. I just sat there in shock and I thought to myself, did that really just happen. I saw her later that night and i tried to apologize.
She simply said, "I won't be talking to you anymore tonight," and she walked away. My friends and I left the party soon after that happened. I could of had a good night but i turned out bad. My advice to all the guys out there is don't spill a drink on a girl at any time. I don't really think you should do that.
It was a cold, winter day. It snowed a couple of days prior to that day and there were small piles of snow around the streets. After a successful day of shopping and catching up with Prakriti, I had to drop her off at her house. I pulled into her driveway as we finished our conversation. She gave me a hug, said bye, and shut the door. Once she finally went inside of her house, I began to back out of her driveway and towards the left. I stopped and then changed the radio channels trying to find a good song and once I did, my phone vibrated. I pressed on the accelerator and I guess I went a little too fast, but I was in control. I looked at my phone and it was Sawan. He told me to stop texting while driving. I went to respond because texting and controlling the wheel wasn't difficult for me; I did it all of the time. I was looking down, typing away, and before I knew it, my car hit a pile of icy snow. I hid the texting part when explaining what happened to my parents.
ReplyDeleteP.S. I don't really think you should do that.
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ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteDuring the summer after my senior year of Highschool my friend, Nick, decide to go out and buy some throwing knives and two swords, a katana and a wakizashi (both are a type of Japanese swords), with the money that he had got for graduation, so the day after he calls me seeing if I want to try them out. Due to my love of blades I said yes. So he came to my house because I had a fairly wood development so not many people would notice us using swords and because I have a fairly open and empty half acre.
ReplyDeleteWe basically made a competition over who was the better by making contest such as who can throw the knives as close to the bulls-eye, who had the fastest and cleanest cut through a piece of wood, who could cut through the thickest piece of wood, and so forth. We were fairly tied and stopped keeping track and more just did it for fun and just practice our skill.
Two of my favorite trials were the last two which were trying to hit an apple from twenty five feet away with the throwing knives and throwing an old soda can weight down with small rocks, and in one smooth move draw the blade from its sheath and cut it. The latter I was better at and got 5/12, and I wound up being to get more accurate and have more control after reusing the cans and practicing. Nick was a lot more accurate when it came to the knives and hitting the apple then I was. He get 6/10 throw and I only got 2/10. Content he stopped, but I wanted to try a few more times, no later than I said that did I throw the knife astray and manage to hit my car tire in the driveway. Looking back we should have done that facing the other way.
Luckily there was a spare and we had another friend who had started mechanics schooling and he came over to change the tire and take the old one away so my parents would not find out. One would think we would stop but we did not. Everything was fine till the very end when we were going to cut a pumpkin. Well a pumpkin is much weaker than wood and I used too much force and the blade went through and toward my foot. Luckily the cut was small and shallow and did not require any stitches, but I did have to get new shoes. I really like those shoes too.
P.S. I don't really think you should do that.
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ReplyDeletethis is too funny Ben, especially the ending. hahaha
DeleteMy only encounter with my high school’s administration came in the fall of my junior year. It all started with boredom. Lunch period was loud, obnoxious, and the worst imaginable study environment. And I ate the period before my scheduled lunch in math class, so I didn’t even have a meal to eat. It’s not like I couldn’t socialize with my friends – I did – but the conversations just didn’t entertain me. After only a short time into the year, they actually began to annoy me. So I began looking for something else to do during the period. Although you were technically required to attend your lunch period (not going to class was considered cutting class), they never took role. It was easy, then, for me to start going to the practice room, a quiet study area in the music department, to “practice viola.” In reality, I was hanging out with a close friend of mine in the practice room.
ReplyDeleteMuch like the actual lunch class, our hangouts became routine and somewhat boring. One day, however, the 50 minute period turned out to be very fun. Turns out, the closet where all the drama club’s costumes are kept was unlocked. And we decided to explore it. Inside was a hallway filled with a collection of random costumes from years of performances. At the end of this somewhat creepy hallway, there was a ladder and a small hatch. Like the entrance to the room, the hatch was unlocked. We proceeded. One after another we passed through the hatch, emerging to an unexpected sight. We were above the auditorium, where the lights that shine on the stage are. The floor of this space was made up of a few rickety two by fours. The seats in the auditorium were roughly 30 feet below too. It was actually pretty scary, but really cool. Cool enough to get us wondering what other rooms were unlocked.
We were not done exploring the school. Over the next few weeks, we sought out the coolest rooms in the school. Everyone knew there were tunnels underneath the ground floor, but nobody really fully explored them. So during my lunch period, I technically cut class and went into these rooms that were technically forbidden. Among the coolest rooms that my friend and I found were a HUGE backup generator room, electrical room, “room 1,” water room, staircase, and of course the crawlspace. We discovered the door to the crawlspace (the most interesting one, that is) underneath the staircase in the English wing. It was a small, wooden door that was about two feet wide by three feet tall. It had no handle. Somehow, it hadn’t been locked. We had to pry it open, but as far as the administration knows, we found the door ajar. Anyway, the other side of the door was pitch black. There was a light switch… about two feet down the ladder on the other side. The ladder went down a total of roughly five feet. It ended with dirt. There was a huge area down there, at least fifty yards long. We explored the area over a few sessions and had a system to ensure that we didn’t get caught. I easily consider this to be the coolest thing we found in our exploration, so of course I wanted to tell someone about it.
However, when I took another friend to see it, he didn’t quite understand the gravity of the situation. He decided to come out of the tunnel at the worst possible moment – when a teacher was passing by. He ignored the system of not getting caught, and it cost us dearly. She referred us to the principal, who searched our bags. Apparently, kids used to go down there and smoke. We ended up avoiding trouble because we had nothing too suspicious on us. Our parents were called though, as is district policy, which I consider to be worse than detention. We were cutting class and entering a part of the school that we weren’t allowed to be in. We broke two rules at once, doubling risk and consequence.
P.S. I don’t really think you should do that.
A few years ago my high school orchestra, band and chorus traveled to Disney World for a brief tour that included a very short performance. The beginning of the trip was the best part. It was a moment I had been waiting for for the longest time. It was the first time I would get to go on a trip to Florida with my friends without parental supervision. I was either a freshman or sophomore in high school when we went on this trip. We got to the airport, waiting of course was the most boring part. When we got onto the plane that was a different story though. There was so much excited chatter going on and we could not wait to take off. And as soon as the plane made its way into the air everyone started clapping and cheering it was so much fun.
ReplyDeleteThe hotel was okay it was the sports hotel how they have different little hotels one sports related and others around the area in Orlando. It was nice they had a large pool out back. The tour was really meant for us to enjoy ourselves we spent all day every day at the parks just running around. The weather was not great it was around this time in February it was cold. We would come back after ten or eleven at night and sit by the pool which would be heated at night so we would all just chill there and hang out together. We held one performance that only lasted like a half hour but it was by the bay so it was beautiful and it was worth it just to perform there.
Two things I would highly not recommend you do, one raise your voice at the adults in charge and second do NOT run around in the parks in the rain and go on rides while it is pouring outside. I learned my lesson from that. The reason I bring up not raising your voice is because there was a situation where one of my friends who was my roommate needed to get back to the room and they told us we had to wait for everyone from our room there were three or four of us. We needed all of us there to check in and get our room keys. And she freaked out and yelled at them not understanding why we had to wait and they were angry with her. And they came by our room and pulled her out and I overheard something about them sending her home if she didn't be respectful. We were warned in advance about being sent home. And second the rain thing is one of the days it was pouring rain at the park and my roommate and I were going up onto a ride and at the time it was not raining. But when we got up there out of the elevator it was pouring outside and there was a family with us in the elevator. I saw them take one look at the rain turn back around and go back down. But my friend Leah dragged me onto the ride and of course we were the only ones. Afterward we were soaked which can be fun except when it is freezing outside. We stopped to get a hot chocolate and a snack and went inside a shop to dry off. Well I wanted to put my sweatshirt back on because it was freezing but that was soaked. The trip was worth it in the end it was a nice class friendly vacation.
P.S. I don't really think you should do that.
The stories of how I broke my arm on two separate occasions are quite intriguing. I was a daring child, but I also followed in the example of others, leading me with two casts on my left arm in about a year a half. The second cast occurred after jumping off of the top bunk of my brother Alex’s bunk bed. It was a Friday night and family friends were over – the mom, dad, and two kids. Dalton, the older of the two, was a year younger than me. He and I were sitting on the top bunk, with all of us kids hanging out in my brother’s room. After some time, everyone started to leave the room and I was the last one to do so. Instead of climbing the later down from the top bunk, Dalton decided to jump off onto the bed below. This was doable since the bunk bed was designed where the lower bunk was perpendicular to the top. Seeing that he did this feat with no effort, I thought I could too. I was older than him, wasn’t I? So I gave it a shot. But behold, I was still a small, six year old girl who was also more fragile than she thought. I landed on my left arm, instantly feeling the pain I once felt months before when I broke the same arm at Chuck E. Cheese. I didn’t going running to my mom, knowing I would just end up at the hospital to get a cast again. Instead I went right to my room, not saying a word to anyone, and no one had actually seen my fall. I thought I could sleep it off and in the morning I would be healed. When I woke up, of course my arm was still throbbing in pain and I was unable to move the lower part of it. Again, I continued to remain silent about the incident and walked around the house all morning, holding my arm like that was totally normal to do. When my mom first saw me that morning, she questioned why I had gone to bed so early and without even telling anyone. I simply replied that I was really tired. She didn’t question that matter any further. But then she noticed that I was continuously holding my arm and finally questioned why. I had the perfect excuse: my arm had fallen asleep. She gave me a skeptical look, but dropped the conversation for a bit. About a half an hour later, she asked me again and with a look of her face, I knew I couldn’t get away with a 30 minute sleeping arm. I fessed up, told her exactly what happened, and soon we were off to the doctor’s office.
ReplyDeleteI made some silly mistakes at this time. I thought my age gave me superiority, I followed someone else’s actions just because, and I tried to hide the truth from my mom. On top of that all, a few days after receiving my cast, I ended up with the chicken pox. And I still have the scars to show.
P.S. I don’t really think you should do that.
I was on my way to the greatest two day event of my life, Alpharetta Georgia. In Alpharetta Pretty Lights and Bassnectar (my two favorite producers) were headlining two night in a row back to back with other openers such as Big Gigantic and Beats Antique. I was dying to go, so I asked my grandmother if I could borrow her car. I told her I was going to Delaware, but in reality I was starting an adventure down the entire east coast, all the way to Georgia. The 16 hour drive consisted of my 2 friends and I packed in a Mini Cooper. We were going to drive straight through the night and make a pit stop at the University of South Carolina were we could crash for a few hours before heading to Georgia. We woke up the next morning, didn't waste any time and we were on the road again. When we arrived in Alpharetta our three friends who traveled from Florida met us there, so it was a big reunion for everyone. Our team consisted of 14 people, all of which are my best friends and the 1st night began. The venue was unbelievable, the weather was prime, good vibes all around. Bassnectar opened for Pretty Lights that night were both artist absolutely killed it. That night we went back to our hotel room, met a lot of people and hit the hay for the night. Saturday morning arrived, the last day of the event where Pretty Lights was going to open for Bassnectar. I knew this night was going to be unreal, and I knew this was the night were both artists were going to give it there all. Pretty Lights opened with "Keep Em' Boucin" which got the crowd hyphy, followed by a list of other fire Pretty songs. Bassnectar released new songs, some unbelievable visuals, and mind bending vocals. After the show was over, I kept thinking about how far I was away from home. My parents thought I was in Delaware, but I was 16 hours away and with class coming up on Monday and homework to do I thought it would be best to leave Georgia directly after the show and head home. So we went back to the hotel room, gathered our stuff and were on our way back home. The drive home was intense, the first 7 hours consisted of us driving through the night, cutting into the Appalachian Mountains, but as the sun rose that when the drive started to become unbearable. No sleep and hours of endless roads started to take its effect on me, but I continued to drive. We started to arrive home, we finally got out of Virginia and started making our way through DC, Maryland, and Delaware. As soon as I saw a welcoming sign for PA I was relieved. So relieved that I fell asleep behind the wheel and swerved into another lane. My friends had no reaction besides "Yo dude." and luckily no one was hurt. I thought we were home, but we were stil in PA and we lived in NJ. So the horrible drive continued for another 45 minutes and we were finally home. The lesson I learned is to not drive for 16 hours straight because that is not safe, and highway hypnosis is a real thing.
ReplyDeleteP.S. I don't really think you should do that.
One of my favorite memories that my parents and I have finally started to laugh about occurred after my freshman year of high school. It was one of my biggest mistakes I've made in life but I've learned from it. At age 15, like most young teenagers, I wanted to experience some freedom for once just like the other older kids in my area that I saw having tons of fun. It all started one week when my parents told me my family was going down the shore for the weekend. I really didn't want to go, so I told them I begged them to let me stay home if I stayed at my grandmother's house at night. My parents trusted me enough to be on my own for the weekend as long as I was at my grandmothers house by 10pm on both Friday and Saturday night. During that time, I often just rode bikes with friends and played video games, so they assumed I would do my usual routine and come home on time. I told my friends about the situation and we all agreed that I should do something about it. I made up my mind that I wanted to have a party at my house. I waited until Friday when my parents were gone, and called them and made up that it was my friend's birthday the next night and that he was having some people sleepover to celebrate. It was a complete lie and I felt bad, but it was the only way I was going to get out of having to stay at my grandmother's house. On Friday night, I made some calls and got in contact with a friend who was 17 at the time that was able to purchase alcohol at a run-down store in Camden. My friends and I gathered the cash, and John and I went to the store and purchased way more beer and liquor than we should have at that age. I went back to my grandmother's as planned, woke up early and told her I was going back home to shower. Little did she know, I was clearing out my house so that it wouldn't be destroyed that night. My friends and I went out with our older friend John and purchased the other supplies needed for the party.
ReplyDelete8pm came around and people started to show up. We cut the number off at 40, but I soon realized this wasn't what I expected. People were getting out of control because everyone was so young (ages 15-17) and didn't know how to handle their alcohol. A girl threw up on the carpet in the living room and I began freaking out. I than thought to myself that I shouldn't worry and that everything would be fine in the morning. A few hours later and a few drinks later, I got a call from my parents trying to check in with me and make sure that I was at my friends house. I made the mistake of answering the phone in my pocket by accident, which to this day is the reason I was caught. My parents hear the music and proceeded to call my Uncle to ask him to drive by the house. He came to the door and saw what was going on. It was embarrassing, but he cleared everyone out of the house and I was now in Hell. My parents drove back home from the shore. I won't go into detail of what happened to me that night, but I will tell you the next morning was too fun. I learned my lesson that I should never going behind my parent's back. The next few weeks inside during the summer weren't to exciting. At this point in life, its something my family and I have began to laugh about. When I have kids someday, I'll never let them stay home from a vacation for a "friend's birthday."
P.S- I don't really think you should do that.
My best friend Jim and I sat next to each other in our senior year AP United State History class. It was great. Our teacher, Mrs. Danielewski, was this grandmotherly old woman who had literally escaped the holocaust and had lived through a lot of the history that she taught. As we learned about early American History, Jim became very decided on the fact that Aaron Burr was the most evil man in US History. Not Hitler, not Stalin or Mussolini, but Aaron Burr. It started out as hate based on principle; Burr killed Jim’s hero, Alexander Hamilton, in a duel. The story is that when they turned to duel with their shotguns, Alexander Hamilton decided he would not shoot and look for a draw, but then Aaron Burr just shot the founding father. You have to admit, it’s kind of a douchebag move. So Burr fled America and tried to create what Jim refers to as “America II” and declare himself American emperor. He failed, obviously, and was exiled to Europe, where he fathered illegitimate children and died an elderly lunatic, as the story goes.
ReplyDeleteSo Jim really didn’t like Aaron Burr, and because I really liked Jim, I didn’t like Burr either. We would make Burr references throughout the term and compare people we didn’t like to Burr on the metaphorical Douchebag Scale. At some point Jim came up with the idea that he wanted to spit on Aaron Burr’s grave. Months later, I Googled the former vice president’s burial site and found that it was in nearby Princeton, New Jersey. Jim and I frequented Princeton to go to our favorite local place, Hoagie Haven, and so a date was set. When he picked me up for our trip I presented him with a rolled up piece of paper. He excitedly unraveled what turned out to be a map of the Princeton cemetery with Aaron Burr’s grave highlighted in yellow. Once in Princeton, we ate our Phat Ladies excitedly. The Phat Lady is a signature sandwich containing cheesesteak, French fries, mozzarella sticks, and ketchup. It is disgusting and mind-blowingly delicious. Stomachs full, we walked about a half mile to the graveyard and within no time located Burr’s grave. It said nothing about the things we detested him for on his grave marker. And then we did something both liberating and horribly distasteful: we spit on the grave. Not just spit. These were seriously well-placed loogies. I’d be lying if I didn’t confess that we danced a little on it too. It was very funny and was something that I could only ever do with my friend Jim.
P.S. I don't really think you should do that.
A memory I love to revisit is the day I found out that I was able to go to Italy for a month to study art. I applied when I was in 11th grade to go to Tuscany, Italy for a month to study art with the Maryland Institute College of Art (MICA). In order to apply I had to create an art portfolio of 10 to 15 pieces of art that I have done. I also had to write and essay about myself and how going to Italy would benefit me. I started working hard on my portfolio to perfect it with what were my best works of art. I was so excited and thankful for my family who gave up our vacation to St. Thomas Virgin Island to pay for my study abroad, if I would get accepted. Months went by after I applied and then one day I got home from lacrosse practice. There was an envelope on the table with my name on it. I opened the envelope and inside was a letter. The letter said " we have reviewed your application and talked hard about your work. We have had a lot of talented artists like yourself apply, unfortunately you have been put on the waiting list." I was so upset and heart broken because all I have done my whole life was dreamed about going to Italy. I sucked up my emotions though and went on with my life. Another month went by and I was just getting out of school to go to my lacrosse game. I had 6 text messages from my mom and 5 missed calls from her. Needless to say I was freaked out when I saw her, what seemed to be very urgent messages. I called my mom and she didnt answer, I called her again still no answer. I was freaking out. I tried one more time and she finally picked up. She seemed to be very happy and I asked what was wrong. She said I just lost $5000 because you are going to Italy! I became so excited I told everyone on my lacrosse team what was going on and everyone was proud of me. I will never forget that day when my life opened up and has stayed that way allowing me to accomplish and pressure my dreams.
ReplyDeleteA time in my life I love to reminisce about is the two weeks I spent with some of my close friends as we traveled to France. After taking French for five years, and becoming closer with the classmates and teacher than most others because I saw them everyday for five years, we all had the opportunity to participate in a foreign exchange program. After hosting about twenty French exchange students at our school, we all got together went to the airport on a bus and flew to France. While our host families were spread out a sixty-mile radius from the school the French students went to, many people had at least one American student in their small quaint French town. We spent many days going to iconic French tourist attractions, some with our French students and some with out. For two days out of the two week adventure we stayed in Paris and slept in a hostel close to the center of the city, which allowed us to explore and see the sights and culture anytime we wanted, as long as we were with at least two other people. One of the days we had scheduled events and we went to the Arch de Triumph, the famous Louver with the Mona Lisa and more. As the day came to a close we approached our final tourist attraction in Paris, the Eiffel Tower. We were all very excited and could barley contain our excitement as we waited in line to get in the elevator to the top. After being checked through security a group of us stepped on the elevator and took the long ride to the top. Some people were afraid of heights but either way the view over Paris at night was breathtaking. We spent about half an hour on the top of the world famous tower and a few people bought items from the overly priced gift shop. As some friends slowly tricked in the elevators that were to bring us back down, a few of my friends and I decided to take a less traditional rout. On the count of three we started down the 1700 steps, all the way down the Eiffel Tower. It was exhausting but very fun and I will never forget it. By the time we got ot the bottom the people in the elevator were ready to leave but we didn’t care because were out of breath and just had run down and touched every step acceptable to the public in the famous Eiffel Tower. Once our teacher found out what we had done she said she didn’t think we should have done that because we were exhausted, and when I returned back to my French host family and told them what had happened the couldn’t believe it. Anthony, my exchange student said we would have to go together next time I visited France and run down the stairs again, something I am looking very forward to doing again, no matter how many people say “I don’t really think you should do that”
ReplyDeleteI came down with mononucleosis (mono) in the latter stages of my junior year. In so many ways, it had reduced me to someone whom I could not recognize. Even on the football field, I could not keep up; I was not myself. When I went back to school not only did I feel out of place, for the first time I had no idea what was going on academically. My teachers reassured me that in due time, I would slowly but surely get back into the swing of things. For each class I was handed a stack of work with no time limit in which, I was to complete and the general consensus that I was to finish what I could, when I could (as long as I kept up with the current material).
ReplyDeleteEven on the football field, I couldn’t keep up. After a month, I had declined to the point in which I continued to lose more and more playing time. My inability to return to my previous form landed me a spot on the bench and stripped me of my captaincy. In addition, I began to do less and less make up work due to the fact that the disconnect with the material increased daily. My grades began to fall to levels that not only I wasn’t accustomed to but I also was not prepared to deal with. I began to become more and more frustrated because for the first time, I was essentially failing not only academically but also athletically.
I fell behind to a point in which I could not return and nothing was able to get me caught up or keep me on track with the current material. As always I had put on the façade that everything was fine and I had things under control. I continued to hide the fact as best I could; I didn’t want to compromise my ego. I became more and more dormant and complacent with failure. My façade had encompassed me: it had become apart of me. With every decision and failure to achieve, it compensated for my anxiety with the stubborn misconception that putting the work off was the best option so that it could be dealt with at a later time. I never needed to receive help, study for hours on end, or schedule my day around my schoolwork. The truth is, all of the fundamental skills that most people learned in middle school like: studying and time management, I did not because I found it more efficient to do it my way. Luckily, my stubbornness eventually caught up to me and made me a firm believer in not overlooking the little things in life. PS-I really don’t think you should do that.
When i was a sophomore in high school, my girlfriends and i decided we wanted to throw a party. My friend Caitlin rushed into school the next day telling us that her parents were all going to the beach this weekend, and we could throw it at her house, as long as we were smart and could clean everything up before we left. Last minute my friends mom decided she was gonna stay home, and my friend made up that she had a dream that her mom stayed home and got harmed in some way, then her mom felt bad and decided to go to the beach. We invited a bunch of guys, and the party turned out to be crazy. My other friend brought her camera, and we documented the entire night with reckless pictures and videos. To this day when i see the pictures i still laugh. We followed through and everyone helped clean the house, i'm pretty sure the house was cleaner after we left then it was when we got there. Months went by, and her parents never questioned her so we thought we got away with it. After a couple months my other friend uploaded some ridiculous pictures we took to facebook, thinking it was harmless. Turns out one of Caitlin's Aunts had been stalking Caitlin on facebook and saw all these pictures, confused she called Caitlin's mom and she got grounded for a month. Even though she got grounded, to this day we all talk about that party and how insane it was, If only the pictures were never uploaded to facebook.
ReplyDeletePS- I really don't think you should do that
For some odd reason, every time I decide it's a good idea to go to New York for a weekend or a night it always turns up being a horrible experience. In my senior year of high school a couple of my buddies and I wanted to go to Times Square and hang out. Little did I realize that this would be the first of many more horrible experiences to New York. Getting there was not horrible (besides how expensive it always is) but the real trouble was getting back home. We arrived in New York at around seven at night and we were urging to have a good time already. My one friend said he knew an awesome free place to park, so naturally I blindly listened to him and we went to have a pretty decent night. Returning to the car however was when the tides turned and wouldn’t you guess my car got owed away. The fun part of our journey was well over and now we had the harsh reality of New York to deal with. We ended up having to find the towing place which turned out to be in Brooklyn and we were in Manhattan, get money wired from all of our parents for a hotel and to get the car, and having to stay an extra night. On top of everything else I thought that we would be home by Monday ended up missing my first day of a college class I was taking instead of my last semester of senior year. Needless to say this weekend turned out to be much more of a hassle than a good time. The next time anyone reading this considers going to New York for a night of fun, I don't really think you should do that.
ReplyDeleteThe weekend after New Years my friend and I decided that we wanted to get some of our other friends together and go do something. We had been sitting in his house for a few hours watching TV and playing video games but we got bored of that eventually. We hadn't figured out what we wanted to do yet but we figured we would worry about that later as we usually did. So he called up our friends and only one of them was able to hang out with us and it was this girl we knew from high school. Some people don't feel this way, but me and my friend felt weird with there just being one girl with us, my friend even more so because he had a girlfriend. So he invited his girlfriend too. So we went out to go pick them up. After were all together, we decided to go to the movies. My friends girlfriend and the other girl are both really bad with scary things so naturally me and my friend decided that we were going to see The Devil Inside. There were definitely some scary parts in the movie, but overall me and my friend didn't think it was that bad. But the other too were so scared the whole time. It didn't help that my friend decided to scare them during the movie. I was thoroughly entertained by that. So after the movie was over we drove back to my friends house. During that ride we kept doing things to scare the other two, like saying we thought we saw or heard something, and my friend would start swerving the car acting like he was possessed. So when we got back to the house we decided to stop messing with them because they were getting really freaked out. They wanted to watch something to get the "scary stuff", as they so eloquently put it, out of their heads, so my friend put on an action movie. I'm not really sure how that was supposed to make them not scared though.Anyway, about 30 minutes go by and my friends dog was just walking around the whole time. He decided to bring his rubber toy over to me. Now the problem is that this dog does not know when to calm down or leave you alone, so he just kept bothering me with it. So I eventually tossed it so he would get out of my face. Unfortunately, physics was not on my side when I did that. The toy went to the ground and bounced straight ahead into the big window in the living room. It was dark in the room so I didn't see it go for the window. All I heard was the sound of glass breaking. I was in complete shock as was my friend. Every other time I threw the toy, it bounced off at some angle because of its strange shape. Of course when the window was an option, that was the direction it took. I could not believe what had just happened. My friend said, "this would happen when we're completely sober." I laughed at his comment, but I was pretty quiet for the rest of the night.
ReplyDeleteP.S.- I don't really think you should do that.
I think one of the most, erhm, ‘exciting’ learning experiences of my life came while I was flung through the air from the back of a horse. It was 2007, and I was thirteen. Horseback riding then was my favorite sport, and I had the typical arrogance that came with experienced inexperience.
ReplyDeleteThe horse’s name was Scooby, and he was too tall to be a pony but too small to be a horse. I like to think that he was feeling dejected and hurt at the world for denying him proper equine classification, and that he felt justified in tossing a thirteen year old off his back because of his emo outlook. In hindsight, the reality is that I was just a really overconfident rider. I was in my second year of jumping and my fourth year of riding overall. The stable had become a second home—I loved the smells, the sounds, and the sight of the big beasts. Though I was a regular at the barn, I was always told that I had more to learn. They told me that I couldn’t possibly know everything—but though I nodded my head at the lectures, I was fairly certain that I knew pretty much everything that there was to know about the animals.
Big mistake. Horses are unpredictable animals. They’re big, intelligent herd animals who stick to the pecking order. Despite this, I, a small little shrimp (standing at a full four-foot-six), always figured myself at the top of the pyramid. My self-importance catalyzed my fall. The day I learned my hard lesson, I chalked up Scooby’s anxious behavior to stir-craziness and ignored his warnings that he did not respect me.
Scooby wasn’t a new horse to me. I’d ridden him in the past, but never jumped him. He was a white gelding with streaks of gray coating his muzzle and the feathers of his legs. I hate to admit that I was thrown by such an old geezer, but Scooby wasn’t a green colt by any standards (though he acted like one).
He pranced and threw his head when I groomed him, and when I saddled him and took him for a loop around the ring, he tossed his mane and tried to take the bit between his teeth. When my instructor came out, she sharply criticized my handling of him and made some comments. If I didn’t regain my balance and center, she said, she wouldn’t let me jump.
Jumping, at this time, was a big deal. Everyone wanted to jump. Somehow, (unfortunately), I managed to settle the pony-horse with my instructor’s threat looming over my head. So we started jumping after thirty minutes of simple ring work.
‘Horrific’ is the only word to describe the first few fences. ‘Miserable’ and then ‘disastrous’ soon followed. Scooby kicked up his heels, stopped before fences, or did a jolting maneuver in which he halted and then lurched over the posts with sudden, stomach-dropping acceleration. I nearly fell seven times, and then – I actually fell.
The fence wasn’t even the biggest one! It was a low cross-rail striped white and black – perhaps two feet off the ground. Scooby cantered to the rail, faster and faster and faster – and then, in his fastest stop yet, kicked up clods of dirt and sent me tumbling over the tinny cross-rail. It was a heart-stopping moment. These days I like to describe it as an ‘unscheduled dismount’ – a serious one that dislocated my elbow when I landed.
The experience was humbling. That night, I learned not to let my ego make me ignore other peoples’ advice or warning signs. If I had the chance to go back and change whether or not I jumped Scooby… I probably would do the same thing as I did, despite the pain. The fall helped me mature. My advice to anyone would be, ‘go ahead! Break some bones. It’ll make you better as a person.’
(…P.S. I don’t really think you should do that.)
I am pretty sure I was in First grade when this happened. I was always kind of a monkey. I loved climbing on things and had pretty good balance. I was the only kid who could get to the highest bar on our playground, and I loved the monkey bars. But, I was a strange kid. I decided why not walk across the top of the monkey bars. I mean I had seen my older brother do it, and he never got hurt so , why not? well I got to the top of the monkey bars and walked across them. not only was it easy, but it was fun too. Some of my friends started to take notice and thought it was cool too. So I kept doing it sometimes I would try skipping a bar, or jogging or running across. After a while, a bit of a crowd had formed watching me maneuver over the bars, and of course that only tempted me to try more difficult things. I was running across every other bar when I slipped. My body folded in half as I fell through the bars and landed on the playground mulch. Every one thought that I had probably broken a bone or something like that, but when they came over and asked me if I was o.k, I jumped right up and said I was fine with smile on my face. Of course I was actually quite sore, but I was a first grader, I didn't care, I just wanted to get back to playing. I enjoyed walking across the bars and getting to show off to my friends and ended up having a really fun time. P.S I don't really think you should do that.
ReplyDeleteFuture Mini-Ivys:
ReplyDeleteWhen I was in the third grade, I got my first pair of glasses. They were silver with pink stripes. I forgot to bring them to school weekly and if I did bring them, I probably forgot to wear them once I got there. I never hated wearing them, was never teased or anything, I could simply see well enough without them, so I did not always wear the glasses.
Unfortunately, I got my glasses at age eight and as any teacher knows, eight year-olds are the most cautious with their things. I would put them on the floor during circle time or shove them in my desk while reading or set them on the seat next to me during snack time. It was during snack time that Skyler sat on them. He wore glasses too, so he was generally pretty understanding about watching out for them, but that day was different. Mrs. Griscom had just called him up to her desk and scolded him for not finishing his folder that month. He was upset and when he came back he just was not very observant.
So they broke. That was not the end of the world though. I brought them to the nurse’s office where she used a miniature screw set to piece them back together. I was back in class within fifteen minutes. I went home and told my mom the entire story and she insisted that I take them to Dr. Kitagawa to be confirmed that they would not break further. Unfortunately, he did not confirm this and instead said to be very, very careful with them as they could break at any time.
As previously stated, I was not the most cautious eight year-old, so I definitely did not become super-cautious. Instead, I wore them camping. My entire girl scout troop went. We slept in raised wooden tents and had to use a flashlight to find the bathroom. It was on one such bathroom hunt that it happened. It was the ultimate glasses problem. As I walking, I tripped and my glasses flew off of my face. As they soared, the rammed a tree which meant the weakened frame did not stand a chance. We searched and searched, but after moving all of the dirty leaves in a 10’ radius, my troop leader said that we would have to give up until morning.
Needless to say, the missing lens was never recovered. I had to go home and explain to my mother why I could no longer wear my glasses and how they broke. I insisted that I could walk around using only one eye, but she disagreed. My mom was very mad at me and called my irresponsible. I used the fact that we searched for an hour for them to prove my respoinsibility, but 8 year-olds do not argue with their morthers- they always lose. Oh well – I got new glasses. This time I got a case too.
P.S. I don’t really think you should do that.
When I was a junior in high school, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part I came out and me and my friend decided to go and see it. So that night we went to the theater and it was packed. I was driving my jeep that night and I went to the bottom of the parking deck, which was a dead end and packed. There was a car that was pulling out and turning around so I was excited that I found a parking space and went to take it. It ended up not being a parking space but I was in a jeep so I started to try to park in it anyway. It was a really tight fit so my friend got out and tried to guide me into it. I was on my way into it and thought I was going to make it in when I bumped the car to the side of me. I immediately tried to back out and the car that I bumped started to shake. I finally back out after much shaking of the other car and get turned around and I look at the other car and it has a huge dent in its rear bumper. I freaked out so much and I sped right out of the row and spiraled around until I was all the way at the top of the parking deck. I parked in a spot and my friend and I went into the movie. The entire time I was still a little freaked out but I started to feel okay. When we came out and pulled out I was still a little nervous because I did not know if anyone saw what I did and was going to approach me, but we pulled out and got on the road fine. On the way to drop my friend off he checked his facebook on his phone and told me about his friend’s status update. His friend’s status said that he had come out of watching Harry Potter and found that his car had a huge dent in it. We did not know if this was the same car that I had bumped or not but we decided that we wouldn’t say anything about it. P.S. I really don’t think you should do that.
ReplyDeleteIt was the night before Thanksgiving and I was driving out to visit my sister near State College. I was having issues with my car-as usual-and the last thing I did before I left was tie the hood down securely because the latch seemed to be broken. Probably should have taken that as a sign that maybe this trip wasn't the best idea. Anyway, it was a snowy night and I headed off on the PA turnpike. I was excited about seeing my family and as I was driving along the snow was making visibility somewhat difficult,but I did have new wipers! I had just had the wiper motor replaced because I had been driving without wipers for about a month and knew that I should have them working for the trip. Did you know that cutting a potato in half and wiping it on the windshield can help repel water when your wipers aren't working (but also carry a squeegee!) The traffic was moving slowly in the heavy snow, and I decided to get over into the other lane and pass some of the slower drivers ahead of me. As I pulled out,I noticed that leading this car parade was a big salt truck spewing salt over the slippery roadway.I was used to driving in the snow and was not bothered by the road conditions. I passed all the cars and the salt truck and cruised along happily singing to a Christmas CD.I then decided to get back over into the right lane.As I did this, I hit an ice patch,lost control of my car,went up an embankment and flipped over and over. I really thought that this might be the end. After a few flips,my car landed upside down on the side of the road. I was strapped into my seat with my hands brased against the roof of the car. There was alot of broken glass and I really had no idea of whether or not I was hurt. Within moments, I heard a voice asking me if I was okay and I could see a couple outside my car. They could not get my door open,but somehow I was able to get myself unbuckled and with all my might I kicked the door open. I was not seriously injured,just incredibly scared. The next thing I saw was the salt truck driver-the one I had just passed-pulling over and walking towards me to see if I was okay. I remember thinking that maybe passing him had not been the best idea. P.S. I really don't think you should do that.
ReplyDeleteI'd never heard of the "potato on the windshield" trick! (Glad you made it through all that OK.)
DeleteThe potato thing-maybe something else you really shouldn't do!:)
DeleteI grew up on a quiet few acres of land that bordered the Delaware river. I loved to look at and try to catch the animals that wandered on the beach and in the woods. One day I was walking in the "golf hole field" with my sister, Veronica, and our older friend Alex. We spotted some canada geese with little goslings over by a marshy pond. We inched closer and closer until we were a few feet from the goslings. Veronica and Alex stopped and watched the babies but I wanted to pet them. So without taking the mother or father into account I approached the goslings and bent over to pet one. The next thing I knew there was a huge goose scratching away at my shoulders and pecking at my head! I shouted for the other two to come help but they were on the ground laughing hysterically. I ran across that field as fast as I could with my hands balled in fists swinging at the goose. It just wouldn't let up. I finally tucked and rolled and it flew off as I began to roll forward and took off back to the rest of the flock it had been with. After a proper assessment from Veronica, we discovered my hair was matted and red where it pecked me and my shoulders were a little raw, which seemed to make it more comical, though overall I was fine. After the attack I held no grudge against geese nor am I afraid of them. I am well aware of what I did wrong, and still feel bad about terrorizing them. P.S. I really don't think you should do that.
ReplyDeleteI grew up in a small town where there really wasn't much to do. It was sophomore year of high school and there was talk around school of a weekend bonfire in the woods. Literally everyone knew about it. Me and a few of my friends were really excited and decided it would be fun to go. I can remember it like it was yesterday. My two friends and I, had a track meet that day and on the bus the whole way home we were talking about how much fun it was going to be. We went to my house to get ready and then my friend Sarah's dad picked us up. When we finally arrived there were so many people in the woods. We saw the fire but then next to it was a keg of beer. We had never drank before so when we saw the keg we were all in shock. We decided it was a bad idea to drink so we didn't. We were all just talking to everyone and having a good time and before I knew it flashlights were being shined in my eyes by the police. They took everyone to the police station and made everyone call their parents to come and get them. Even though my friends and I were not drinking we still got citations. My parents came to pick me up and I've never seen them so mad in my life. By the next day everything cooled down and they were just happy I wasn't drinking and said that I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. A few months later I finally had my court date and all the charges were dropped because they had no reason to charge us for not drinking. It was a huge relief, and now looking back I realize it probably wasn't the best idea to go there. P.S. I really don't think you should do that.
ReplyDeleteA month after I got my license I was driving my mom to work, at like 7am in the summer time mind you, so I was really tired. In the summer time there is always construction in my neighborhood so I was pretty pissed that they were blocking my driveway and I had to manuver my car in such a weird way just to get into my driveway and as I was backing up to do that I smacked my moms brand new car into a mailbox and tree.
ReplyDeleteP.S I really don't think you should do that
It was summertime somewhere in between my high school years. I was with my family vacationing in Ocean City New Jersey, the most exciting dry town along the Jersey south central coast. Luckily a bunch of my buddies accompanied me on this vacation to keep things interesting. Days were spent on the beach or playing basketball, while our nights were occupied by strutting the boardwalk looking for female companionship and trouble. We came up with a plan one night which we put into place the next day. We were going boating. Now being high school students with limited income we weren't about to shovel out the necessary money to go on a proper fishing boat or something similar, so we did the next best thing. We bought a raft. You've probably seen these types of rafts on the boardwalk, inflatable and attached to the sides of the shops; a 25 dollar investment and you're officially a boat captain. We bought large beach shovels to use for the paddles since real paddles are expensive and set off for the beach to start our voyage. The boat could only hold two so we had to decide who would go; I got the first spot since it was my idea, and the second space went to Andrew. Andrew was of smaller frame than the rest of use, a trait which was valuable in a cramped boat. He was also the sort of short armed physical freak of nature that could do 30 pull ups and had stamina for days, with paddles as our only form of propulsion these were valuable attributes.
ReplyDeleteWe set off from the beach after the lifeguards had left for the day and hopped into the rafter only after we had battled past the surf. We began to paddle our way out toward the endless ocean horizon. How far we would go or what our actually plan was, well that was never discussed; we only had dreams of floating in the calm ocean current basking in the remainder of the days sun, far away from the sounds of civilization. So we paddled. Now the people on the beach were nothing more than specs as we waved to them, guessing that the group huddled together was our land dwelling friends but unsure. It was at this point, with the sun beating down on us, sweating from our efforts that we realized we probably should have brought some water with us, each salty splash of seawater that landed near my mouth reminded me of this fact. Fortunately we were young and had the mindset that young boys do, we were invincible. No thoughts of turning around we're ever conjured up, much less discussed. At some point we realized there was a commotion of the far away shores we had left behind, as there were flashing lights and emergency vehicles parked on the beach. Suddenly we heard the sound of a motor, and although we didn't' see where it came, there was suddenly a jet ski coming toward us. Apparently by waving to our friends back on the beach, Andrew and I had inadvertently signaled our distress to the other beach goers. We told our jet ski wielding rescuer that we were in no peril, but gladly accepted his offer to tow us in, it was a long way to paddle. After the jet ski made quick work of our return trip we arrived to a beach filled with firetrucks, lifeguards, ambulances and onlookers. We had to give our information to the lifeguards although we were in no trouble, must have been some sort of protocol whenever you waster thousands of dollars worth of rescue services. Andrew and I ate well that night, content in the memories of our voyage out to sea.
P.S. I don't really think you should do that.
Before you read the rest of this story I would just like to tell you that I do not like drama. Drama in this sense is unnecessary bickering between people. My judgment of those situations is that in the end no one wins, and lots of energy is wasted fighting about nothing. It is because of this that I try my hardest to avoid as much drama as I can. It was me expressing this part of my personality that caused me to act out in the way I did last Christmas break.
ReplyDeleteHonestly, I like going to my Aunt and uncles house but I don’t like having to mediate minor conflicts in the house and I don’t really want to know their problems. There are just too many people in the house. My Aunt and uncle don’t have a lot of children but a lot of children of varying age are there all the time usually for one of my three cousins. This does sound selfish but after the amount of time I’ve heard about this or that being wrong, I fake being hyper masculine when I am there to the point that sometimes I act as though I don’t about the next word coming out of the person I’m talking with’s mouth.. It is my way to block their problems because while my relatives are generally happy people, they get involved with way too many people with problems of their own. I can’t stand gossip and I don’t like congestion.
Last Christmas break, about a week after Christmas, I went over to my Aunt’s home to get my mine and my mother’s Christmas presents. This wasn’t an “in and out” occasion. My normal plan of visiting when I go there is that I stay there as late as I can so I can see everyone before I left. But when I visit I make sure that I plan how I would leave. Sometimes my plan would change because someone offered me a ride home.
This day though went fine until the time came when I had to leave. The plan was for one of my cousins to drive me home instead of me taking a bus. This would allow for me to stay longer so that every person that lived in the house could get a chance to see me. The time came when It was time for me to leave but, the cousin that was supposed to drive me home decided that she was too tired and it was too late for me to be driven home. I can understand that 10 p.m. is late for an hour drive to and from my house but that was the plan we agreed on and that was a the plan I was following. So when my cousin backed out of it I wasn’t having any of that. So I told her to take a half hour nap and then get ready. She took the half hour nap, and when the time came , I went up to tell her to wake up and take me home. Unfortunately, because the house is such a welcoming place, her two friends were there to start trouble by arguing with me saying that I should just stay the night instead of leaving so late. I replied by telling them our agreed upon plan, but they ignored the facts. We went back and forth with each other while my cousin slept peacefully until I reached my limit and decided to take public transportation home.
This big problem with my decision was that it was the weekend and public transportation does not come as often as I does on the weekdays. Also since it was late I had to factor in the time I would reach a train station because trains stop running during a certain time interval at night. Despite this I decided to go because my pride wouldn’t let me stay in that house that night. I trudged up to the bus stop and waited hopefully for the bus as if it would decide if I had made the right decision. At 11 p.m. that night a bus appeared in the darkness to take me home. A half hour later, the bus arrived at the train station. Nut instead of taking the train home, by a stroke of luck, a bus that would take me to my neighborhood appeared to wash away any fears of missing the last train that night. When I got home, I felt like the bus’, the time, maybe even the universe was on my side. Despite the time, everything worked out fine.
PS. I really don’t think you should do that.
My most recent car that I've owned was a silver, stick-shift 1999 Mitsubishi Eclipse GS. It was a decent car, my dad did a lot of work on it being that he used to be a mechanic, so it ran very nicely. The only things that were wrong with this car were that I kept it completely messy, I slacked on changing my oil for a bit, and most of the tires were almost completely bald of tread. I remember one day last winter being a very bad day to drive; there was snow, ice, and slush covering the roads. I had been driving around with my friend for a bit, just running a few errands around the town. I took a turn off of the main road in Doylestown onto the 611 bypass, this road was completely clear of snow, having been plowed and salted. The only reason I had been surviving that day was because I had learned how to drive stick in the snow and control my car pretty well. Once I got onto 611, I started speeding up because the limit goes up to 55 MPH and I had to merge in. I'm assuming that a plow truck had literally just plowed the highway because there was a straight path of all the snow off of 611 that had been pushed into the merge section. There was about 2 feet of plowed snow just sitting right on the merge area, covering most of the lane as I approached. I didn't notice the mound until I was too close to completely stop. My car was extremely low to the ground, so I knew that this could end terribly if I hit the snow too fast. I downshifted from fifth to fourth and reduced my speed to about 50, because I had been speeding in the first place. I hit the snow at that speed and immediately felt myself jerk into the air, losing control of my car. I gripped the roof of my car as my friend and I screamed at the top of our lungs, sure that we were done for. We were spinning uncontrollably at 50 MPH across 3 lanes of traffic. Luckily we weren't hit before we veered off onto the shoulder and slid to a stop. My car stalled out because I hadn't been operating the manual clutch during the whole dilemma. We were positive we were going to get rammed by another car, flip over and roll across the highway, or hit the guardrail and flip over. It was a terrible experience where my friend and I were lucky to come out of unscratched. The horrifying experience caused me to go buy new tires the next day and always drive with precaution in the snow so that nothing like this would ever happen to me again. So from this experience I learned my lesson for good; P.S. I don't really think you should do that.
ReplyDeleteWhile being a freshman in college, I sometimes find it difficult to practice time management skills. I started off the year with a pretty solid schedule. I'd wake up at 8:30AM, shower, attend all my classes, come back to my dorm room and finish my homework assignments, go to the gym with a few friends, eat dinner, finish up the remaining of my homework, and then hangout with friends in the evening. See? It's a pretty solid schedule. Then my social life started to escalate. I was so concerned with making new friends and meeting new people that my academics and routine began to slack. That was when I began to wake up at 11:00AM, miss some of my classes, and slack on homework assignments-definitely not the way I wanted to continue the term. My mood wasn't at the greatest at the time. I became lazy, tired, and unproductive quite often. As you can image, my grades didn't keep up with my expectations. After my first term at Drexel, I promised myself, once again, that I would make a great schedule for myself. Keep my social life a hobby and my academics a priority. I found myself on the track towards success until I reached Math. My worst subject...ever! I wasn't doing as well in the subject so I began to not attend classes. After not doing so great on first exam, I suddenly got a rude awakening. My parents are spending so much money on my education. The least I can do is try my best in my academics. Because of this, I'm doing excellent in all my classes. I don't procrastinate as much. Starting off on a good foot can take you far. However, it's up to you to keep your path free from distractions.
ReplyDeleteSo my lesson for today is to procrastinate.
P.S. ^ I don't really think you should do that.
I was driving to my high school. To avoid the statistically terrible public schools near my house, I went to a private school about an hour’s drive away. I was running a bit late, and in trying to make it to class on-time, rounded a left-turn as the light turned from yellow to red. Conveniently, this turn took me right around a police car, waiting for the light to change in his direction. As soon as I saw his lights, still unblinking, my heart sank. Would my spotless driving record suddenly have a hundred-dollar tarnish on it? Somewhat terrified, I looked in my rearview mirror to see him pull a U-turn and head after me. His lights were still off, as that was an inconvenient place to pull me over, but I knew what was coming. After we drove a short ways, on the lights went, and off to the side I pulled.
ReplyDeleteAs I turned my car off in compliance with state law, it occurred to me that I had planned on going for target practice after school, and had my crossbow in plain sight in the back of my car. As he walked up to my rolled-down window, he paused a moment, as he noticed the crossbow in the back. I cannot forget the ensuing conversation.
“How are you doing, this morning, son?” He asked.
“Honestly, sir, I was doing better five minutes ago,” I responded, unwilling to lie with something ambiguously optimistic like ‘fine’ or ‘alright.’
“That your crossbow?” he questioned, moving on to business.
“Yes, sir,” I responded.
“Where’re you off to?” he prodded.
“Ummm. School,” I stuttered, “then target practice—away from school.”
He nodded his head understandingly and asked where I went to school. It occurs to me now that going to a private school was something of a blessing in this moment. Laws about having weapons in a car on school property are a bit different when state funding isn’t involved. After determining that I was not posing a threat to my peers or teachers, he moved on to the matter at hand. I tried to phrase my responses carefully; never admitting to knowingly running a red, but never denying it either. As the discussion reached its length and I was certainly going to be late, he miraculously, he let me go scot-free. I continued on to school, to target practice, and to not running reds.
P.S. I don’t really think you should take a crossbow to school, or run reds.
During my sophomore year of high school my close group of friends, we called each other The Chiacas, were pretty much inseparable. We had nicknames for each other and our own inside jokes and everything that would make us close friends. My friend Sarah and I had this competition to see who could hug one of my close friends first. We would race over to our friends, running and trying to stop each other by means of pushing, tripping, tricking or any of combinations of the above. Just to see this happen in person was a sight to see. Sarah and I, well we had what you could call an abusive relationship with each other. We were not afraid to playfully become in a sense more physical with each other. With this we would not actually hurt each other just teasingly poke or pretend to hit.
ReplyDeleteOne day when the school was gathering for an assembly, Sarah and I walked together from the first period class. As we walked closer and closer to the gathering area, we spotted our friend group. They were standing in a slightly crowded area of the gathering place waiting and conversing. As soon as we spotted them, Sarah and I looked at each looked back at our friends and knew it was on. We both started walking fast towards our friends trying to get in front of each other. As this progressed we started to get more and more aggressive with our walking. We both tried to push the other out of the way in order to “win”. Our first target to hug was our friend Brittany only because she was the closest one to us. At this point we started to fast walk which turned into a run. We were approaching Brittany faster than we knew and when we reached her we were moving too fast to stop. When we reach Brittany instead of hugging her, our momentum caused us to literally tackle her. We all fell to the ground in a heap on arms, legs, and squeals. Brittany was not enthusiastic at all that we tackled her. Everyone surrounding just stared and watched as we all laid on the ground laughing and giggling.
P.S. I don't really think you should do that.