Not the Best Moments in Life

Hello, all. Welcome back to another weekly blog post. This post is a straight one-shot. There's no backstory because, well, it's not really needed. So we're just going to jump right into this tomfoolery that happened back when I was, like, eleven years old. To set this story up, I'm going to start off by stating two relevant facts: 1) When I was younger, my mother was the type to tell me very often how beautiful she thought I was (as many other parents did with their children, I'm sure). 2) Like (hopefully) many other kids did, I went through a legitimate phase where I wanted to be famous. "The Perfect Role Model" It turns out I kind of hate attention. You know how malls have those salespeople who flag you down and try to get you to give them your time through some form of sorcerous, psychological manipulation? Yeah, my family and I tended to run into those often. We usually did what most people do: avoid eye contact, keep walking, hop

Hey, guys. Welcome back to another blog post :D This is another experience I'll have to provide a backstory for; however, since said backstory isn't embarrassing, this post is not necessarily a two-in-one (in terms of being embarrassing) like Week Three. Without further ado... "The Beginning of a New Hobby" [I love the East Coast.] As someone who grew up in the South, I had never really become accustomed to having celebrity encounters (except for that one time I saw Forest Whitaker at the airport...in New Jersey and not the South). Because of this, when my family and I moved to New Jersey, I felt like I was living in a new world filled with excitement and opportunities. I had visited almost every summer before then to see family, but being able to actually stay there for an indefinite amount of time ignited a new kind of happiness within me.  Fast forward to winter break: My family and I decided to go to New York City for the 78th time, you know, so the

Hey, guys, welcome back to another blog post! The story for this week actually happened recently (during the second half of my freshman year), but , before I hop into it, I'll have to provide a slightly more embarrassing backstory. So you'll get two stories in one post (one of which I'd refused to think about for roughly a year, resulting in a little fogginess upon recovery, but I'll share what I remember)! 😄 Flashback (Senior Year in High School): I always wanted to impress the difficult ones.  My Human Relations teacher, Ms. "Halsey", was notorious for being strict with her students, so, naturally, I was always on my best behavior in her class. I'd be the perfect student and I'd get her to like me. After all, that is the way of the good noodle. And I was successful. Still, it costs to heighten teachers' expectations, or anyone's expectations in general, especially in high school. You end up becoming the role model.  You're ex