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Story Telling Project #3 of more.
Title - The Birthday FeastI told Josh that I wasn’t going to cook him a meal for his birthday. He was very annoyed that I refused to do it. Little did he know, I had actually decided I would do it and surprise him. I surprised him in a way he would never forget.
When I was 19, I dated a guy named Josh. I loved him and I told him that for his birthday I would get him whatever he wanted. He told me that what he wanted most was a meal cooked by me.
Some people love cooking. I have many friends and family members that love cooking and are really great at it. Some of them would say cooking is an artform. I hate cooking. I see it as work, I am too impatient for the process, I don’t know my way around the kitchen, I have a fear of knives from catching a knife with my arm as a kid, but most of all I suck at cooking.
I told Josh that I wasn’t going to cook him a meal for his birthday. He was very annoyed that I refused to do it. Little did he know, that I had actually decided I would do it and surprise him. I surprised him in a way he would never forgot.
The day of his birthday, I made him leave the house and told him he was going to come home to a big surprise. I was so excited. I was going to cook a huge feast. And. I. Cooked. So. Much. Food; everything I knew how to cook! I made 12 hard boiled eggs, 8 slices of French toast, a big bowl containing 4 cans of Cambell’s chicken soup, 2 boxes worth of spaghetti with unfrozen broccoli, ketchup and an unopened jar of sauce in case he didn’t like ketchup as his spaghetti sauce.
At 6pm Josh came through the door and I yelled, “Surprise! Happy birthday!” Josh was happily surprised, then confused, then he was underwhelmed but had a smile. He sat at the table and I gave him a little bit of everything I had cooked, saying, “I don’t usually eat these foods together.” He chuckled as he ate and muttered over and over “This is awful.” To my surprise, he used the sauce for his spaghetti, opting not to use the ketchup. The more he ate the more he could no longer hold back the disgust of eating these foods together. Somehow he managed through and ate everything on his plate.
I was disappointed because I actually thought he would be excited that I cooked. But I was also so proud of myself. I cooked a meal. I cooked a whole meal and because of this meal I would never be asked to cook again! I had never felt so accomplished.
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Challenge for next week’s story: Have a better ending.
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Story Telling Project #2 of more.Title - Hello. My Name is Stephanie Streisand and I am Running“Ashley promised Ice Cream parties everyday. Jeremy promised that he’d get us Fridays off. Brittany twirled around her straight, perfect blonde hair and said instead of teachers, we would be paid for going to school. Then it was my turn to give a speech.”
One day, when I was in fourth grade, my teacher Mrs. Capurro asked the class, “Who would like to run for class representatives for student council?” It would be decided through a voting process. Everyone in the class had to vote for two people. The top two votes would be the representatives and the person that came in third place would become the alternate.
Only the most popular people were nominated (Mike, Adam, Ashley, Jeremy and Brittany). Winning meant that you were the most popular, but I don’t think anyone else in my class realized that. I wanted to be popular. I raised my hand to throw my name into the race. Each one of us had to give a speech. It was my first look at politics.
Mike promised everyday would be pizza day. Adam promised that the water fountains would become soda fountains. Ashley promised Ice Cream parties everyday. Jeremy promised that he’d get us Fridays off. Brittany twirled around her straight, perfect blonde hair and said instead of teachers, we would be paid for going to school. Then it was my turn to give a speech. I came up with a sure winning speech.
“Hello. My name is Stephanie Streisand. I can’t promise to do any of the things my opponents have promised because I am not popular so I wouldn’t know how to go about making those things happen. Most of you don’t like me, but remember this is NOT a popularity contest. You are supposed to vote for who would do the best job. We all know Adam would do the best job, but you have to vote for two people. So remember, vote for Adam and then with your second vote, vote for me. Stephanie Streisand. Thank you.”
I walked back to my seat knowing I nailed it! My friend Aisha turned to me and whispered, “I’m voting for you!”
Some one had once told me that it was bad form/bad luck to vote for yourself. So I voted for Adam and Brittany, because Brittany was the prettiest.
Once the ballots were in, Mrs. Capurro started counting the ballots. All the nominees running were written on the board. For every vote, Mrs. Capurro put a tally next to their name as she said their name, “Vote for Adam. Vote for Mike. Vote for Brittany” etc. In the end, the results were Ashley - 3, Jeremy - 6, Mike - 8, Brittany 11, Adam - 12 and Stephanie Streisand - 0.
ZERO? Zero votes??? I was legitimately shocked. I turned to Aisha. She shrugged and said, “I’m sorry. Brittany’s just so pretty.”
The next year, in fifth grade, when voting for class representatives came up I was prepared. During recess, I sought out any girls in my class that were thinking of running and I told them that class representatives get extra homework. So when the teacher asked, later that day, “who would like to run?” I was the only girl who raised my hand.
My speech went, “Hello. My name is Stephanie Streisand and I am the only girl running. So vote for me because girls rule!!!” I got in third place. Alternate!
At the first student council meeting, I quickly realized that my lie was true; being a class representative DID actually mean more homework. I quit a week later, but I’ll never forget the lesson I learned. If you are the only girl, you are the most popular girl.
______________________________________________________________Challenge for next week’s story: Write a story that has nothing to do with elementary school or being popular. -
Story Telling Project #1 of more. Title - Clueless
“I remember looking at myself in the mirror in this toddler dress and jeans, with my orangey-brownish skin and thinking to myself, ‘Stephanie, today is the day it’s all going to change!’”
I wasn’t that popular growing up. I was a big loser. I tried soooo hard to fit in, but I never could because I always had a huge knot in the back of my hair, my lips were bigger than my face and during the morning announcements everyday I sang out “The Star Spangled Banner” louder and with more passion than anyone in history.
I remember when Clueless came out in theaters. My mom and I saw it together. I was too young to realize it was making fun of these types of people. I took it at total face value. I left the theater glorifying these characters like some people do after seeing Star Wars for the first time, except the movie was Clueless. I wanted to be them! I wanted to be popular!
The next morning I looked for the perfect outfit that would make me totally popular. I found a dress I wore when I was three-years-old and somehow got into it. It looked like an extremely short baby-tee with ruffles coming out the bottom. But all that was going through my head was, “It was yellow and black, just like Cher’s outfit at the beginning of the movie!”
Then it was time to put on some make up. All I had was one of those cover-up sticks. It was many shades darker than my skin. I drew it on all over my face. And so it wouldn’t be obvious that it was just make-up I also put it all over my neck and hands.
I remember looking at myself in the mirror in this toddler dress and jeans, with my orangey-brownish skin and thinking to myself, “Stephanie, today is the day it’s all going to change!”
When I got on the bus everyone stared at me. I was so confident. I thought to myself, “It’s working! I’m popular!”
When I got into class, my teacher asked me why I was dressed the way I was. I told him, “This is the way I always dress. You just never noticed before.”
At lunch, Joshua Braunstein, the guy I had a crush on, asked me, “Why do you look so different?” I said in a soap opera-like style, “Because I’m popular now!” And he responded, “Oh. Okay.”
It wasn’t until halfway through the day that one of the mean girls that I so wanted to be my friend, broke my false reality and told me that everyone was making fun of me because my skin looked like I put orangey-grease all over it and that they knew my shirt was a tiny dress. I looked around the room. Aside from seeing every kid looking at me with a smirk on their face, I also noticed orangey marks all over the classroom that must have rubbed off my “make-upped” hands throughout the day! It was everywhere; on the big map, text books, desks, papers, doors, walls, Joshua Braunstein’s shirt… I ran to the bathroom and tried to wash the orange off my face, but at that point it wouldn’t come off. It had dried!
I spent the rest of the day hanging out in the bathroom, but I have still never felt more popular than I did the first half of that day at school. I was totally clueless.
Has No Tact
