That Girl's Stories

My Shoes 2

2007-12-18T07:29:56Z

I ran across multiple problems along way. The first, my Velcro shoes. They were all the rage in my Kindergarten class the year before, but if I was going to be a big First Grader, I had to move up in the world. The second night of our two month vacation, I demanded that my mom take me to the store and purchase me a new pair of tennis shoes. It was a good hour of, “Those are ugly, Mom!” and, “No, I want laces!” but we didn’t leave empty handed. That night, I showed off my shiny, clean white Keds with little beads on the laces to anyone who would look.

Little did I know that those laces that I was so in love with, would soon become my worst enemy.

My Shoes 1

2007-12-18T07:28:54Z

For such a fantastic summer, I was really depressed for a seven year old. My summer had been spent with all 15 of my cousins, for the third summer in a row. I was about 3000 miles from home, but I couldn’t have felt more comfortable. We would play at the beach, something I was definitely not accustomed to, pick blueberries, watch movies late into the night, make forts, and just have fun in the best way any kid knows how.

However, unlike my cousins, I had also dedicated my summer to something other than them. I wanted it to be a summer of great accomplishment. I was going to learn something new, something I had never done before. I was going to tie my shoes.

My Embarrassment; part 2

2007-10-18T06:45:53Z

By the time I reached my house, I was ready to climb into bed and forget about the mountain of homework waiting for me. As I set about my nightly ritual of face-washing, teeth brushing and bathroom-using, I noticed something particularly odd about my work pants, the only pair I’ve had for about 3 months now.

Upon further inspection, I noticed that I had 3 gaping holes on the rear, not noticeable from a distance or even on close inspection. However, with a look down at my current attire, I was positive it was noticeable with the bright green panties I had on.

My Embarrassment; part 1

2007-10-18T06:42:08Z

Another six hours of my life were spent bagging groceries at the local grocery store. It wasn’t my ideal job, harder work than I expected really. I clearly wasn’t getting paid to spend my time reading trashy magazines and sitting around. However, it came with a weekly pay check, flexible hours, and to be honest, even though it can be tiring, I had a great deal of fun on most days.

Today had been more exhausting than most. I had spent hours running around pushing carts in the hot Arizona sun, grabbing forgotten items for more costumers than I could count, cleaning spills, and the tedious task of go-backs. Go-backs, I have come to believe, is closely related to finding a needle in about 10 hay stacks; a job that takes more than an hour.

My Name

2007-10-18T03:55:58Z

I have a name.
It describes me as a person, a friend, a student and a child.
My name comes with my faults and mistakes, my achievements and good habits.
It is every good and bad decision I have ever made.
It’s my proudest moments and my greatest embarrassments all rolled into one.
My name is my joys, my amusements, my delights. It’s my fears, the things I hate, my boredom.
It’s when I laugh and when I cry.
It is me as a baby, a toddler, a child, a teen.
It will be me when I’m grown, when I’m dying.
It’s my legacy, my inspiration, my story.
It’s who I am and what I represent.
My name is just so me.