I was walking today in the high-school highways, making my way to the buses, when I overheard this conversation:
Boy 1: I saw a girl today who had on blue pants, but on the butt it said ‘pink’. I think that was the best part of my day.
Boy 2: Contradictory pants were the best part of your day?
Boy 1: Yup.
Your story was the best part of my day, Boy 1.
I admit it, I’m an eavesdropper. I justify myself by say that if you don’t know the people it’s okay. I can’t help myself! While sometimes you hear really mundane things like ‘I forgot my homework.’ or ’Did you get my text?’ there are other times when conversations are unusual. I’ve heard a guy talking about how he bought out all the whoopee cushions in a store. People have such interesting stories, call me nosy, but I love hearing them.
That’s the basis for the speech class I’m in, telling stories. That soundsreally nice, but I’m the only freshman in there and all the upperclassmen’s stories make me feel uncomfortable. The conversations usually end up going this way:
Me: So, what did you do this weekend?
Senior: Illegal stuff. I can’t tell you with the teacher right there.
They’re not kidding either. It makes me feel like a kindergartner, I mean, this weekend my friend invited me over to come eat some (yummy) handmade cake she made. Hardly a drunken party.
I wouldn’t want to change by any means. I’ll take frosting over hangovers, contradictory pants over illegal tales, any day of the week, and everyday when I escape to my lunch table I’m infinitely glad that I have the kind of friends I have.
Anywho, I’m sorry that I don’t update regularly; days seem to fly by without my noticing, so I’ll work on that. Pinky promise!
