Note: This is a revised version of “Dressing Perfect”.
Our school has a strange policy: all the players from our football team must “dress out” every time there is a game in suits and ties. It’s monstrous people who normally dress in purposely tattered shirts and pants that look like they’ve been through a paintball game that are most interesting. People on these days suddenly dress up in suits and a nice organized tie as well as long pants, and it looks very different. Continue reading
Being perfect, in a metaphorical sense, is impossible. It is impossible to be perfect. But one can try. I think one of my friends have reached this level: he has perfectly dressed.
People have many definitions of dressing perfectly. Someone in my school may define dressing perfectly as having crazy hair, a messy shirt (but a perfect messy shirt). But his definition: a buttoned shirt, jacket, and clean and orderly hair.
So every day, my friend would come dressed up in a perfect t-shirt underneath, button up whatever he happens to wear that has buttons, make his collar perfect, and go to class.
People are quite particular actually about what they wear. For example, another interesting topic would be the ID cards. Continue reading
I was hunched over a diving block, bending my head back. I could see the blue water and the blue sky. Everything seemed to be blue.
“Take your mark,” a voice somewhere said. I knew precisely it was from the right side of the swimming pool, but now, it seemed like it had been from right behind me.
I hunched even more, and got my foot ready for a kick.
A beep.
A launch.
And then I was in the air. Continue reading
I really do love my bed. It’s something I retire into every night, when I am tired. It’s a place where I dream, where I think, where I pray, and most importantly, where I sleep. I spend a huge portion of my life in my bed.
So every night, after I tuck myself in, and turn off all the lights, I just stare at the ceiling, thinking about random things, eventually falling into a stupor. I really like it when it rains outside, because the pitter-patter on the sidewalk is one of my favorite sounds.
What I really like doing though, and one I usually won’t admit to my parents, is something maybe a little bit bad, depending on your definition of “rest”.
When all the lights downstairs turn off, I grab one of my larger pillows and put it on top of my desk. My desk is mashed against the wall underneath my window. Continue reading
Every night, it is one of our long-held family traditions to go for a walk. It wasn’t written in some sort of coat of arms, it wasn’t a requirement, but my dad just liked going for a walk after dinner. As a result, because of his constant vigilance, we feel weird if we don’t go on the walk.
Even better than the walk would be a bike ride. My mom sometimes can’t stay at home very long, so when that happens, and it is just my dad and me, we like going for a nice bike ride. We usually take a ride around my school, then circle around back home the long way, and ride through a gorgeous park.
So today, I was riding down the street towards a trail behind our neighborhood when a dog suddenly started chasing my dad and I. To be more precise, that dog was chasing my dog Peanut, and he was scared into hysterics. Continue reading
Middle school is big. Not “big” as in I-don’t-know-where-things-are big, but big in comparison with elementary school. Elementary school is small. Middle school is big. Elementary has one bike rack. Middle school has ten.
Every morning when I get to school, it’s always near-empty or full. If it was empty, I would find an empty spot. If it were full (which isn’t to-the-top kind of full) then I would squeeze I in somewhere and head into the school.
And now, every time I go into the school, I hope something doesn’t happen to me, my friends, or my stuff. Particularly my bike, since it’s in the open. Everything else is worried about until it’s safe in my locker, where the only thing I have to worry about is my water bottle attacking my homework.
There are many reasons why I’m worried now, not that worrying will do me any good, what-so-ever. But it does give you something to think about when you’re sitting in class, bored.
But let’s get on topic. The other day I walked out from school and I noticed that my friend’s bike was on top of mine.