Don’t give her the first book you found, she’s twelve!

“Brother~~” I knock on his door. “Brother~~~”
“What?” He doesn’t even bother opening the door.
“Do you have any books I can read?” I say in my best I’m-a-cute-12-year-old voice. My brother’s bookshelf had the cool books: Books by J.R.R. Tolkien, Ray Bradbury, Roald Dahl…It was the treasure trove.
There was just this little problem that I was forbidden from entering his room. Ever.

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And that is how you were nicknamed Ketchup

In the precious free time at Nerd Camp*, I was watching Youtube. Or rather, trying. (250 other people had the exact idea, on the same WiFi.)

As the circle of loading spun around, one of my roommate’s  friends started knocking down the door.

“Do you guys have a stain remover or something?” She said.

She clutched a long-sleeved white shirt. Something red splotched a sleeve, from wrist to shoulder.

“No,” I said. “Is that Ketchup?”

“Yes, and I can’t get it off!” She had eaten fries for dinner, and hadn’t noticed the stain until Stella (my roommate) had pointed it out.

I take the shirt, and start rummaging through my luggage.

“Do you have any shaving cream?” I asked. She ran down to her room and came back with those lotion shaving creams. I shook my head.

“No, the foamy kind-” I grab the can. “Ah ha!”

I squirted a mountain of foamy pink cream on the sleeve over the sink.

“The cream has to set in.” I said. In truth, I had no clue.

I had read it on the internet one night.

We waited. Continue reading

Interesting: A short annoyance.

Interesting is what you say about an ugly baby.

Circumstances where it’s okay:

When you meet an ugly baby. Or something catches your attention.

Circumstances where it’s not okay:

In writing workshop, or any workshops. (That piece was interesting.)

Suggested replacement words:

unusual, fascinating, engaging, striking, intriguing

 

However, I do appreciate this word’s Trojan horse-ness.

 

If you’re happy and you know it…

“I could have DANCED ALL NIGHT~~” I slide into the kitchen, singing at the top of my lungs.

My mom’s making dinner.

“What happened?”

“Nothing. I just feel really happy.” I start spinning like a top and almost crash into the kitchen chairs. I get up and get back to dancing and singing. Well, I say dancing. More like a tornado of destruction. My mom’s use to this.
I start sliding around the kitchen. Bless my mother, she doesn’t kick me out of the kitchen.

“Set the table.” I start dancing the way to the dishwasher.

“Careful!” My mom says. I’m holding a fork when I get to the “Spread my wings, and done a thousand things” part of the song. I almost knock over the water pitcher. Continue reading

The sonic screwdriver is not a screwdriver

My 13th birthday! was last month.

Warning: If you do not have basic knowledge of the T.V. show Doctor Who, sorry!

I scream at the top of my lungs. (Typical fan girl behavior, do not be alarmed.)

Two sonic screwdrivers lay among the torn wrapping paper. A blue and green one. 10 and 11. From Mom and my brother.

Dad looks up from his computer.

“Mattie, you alright?”

“I got a sonic screwdriver!!!” I do a happy dance on the dining room table.

My dad turns back to his computer. (Typical geek dad behavior, do not be alarmed.)

5 minutes later…

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Final’s over! The last seconds of school

The perfectionists (hi, me) are still hunched over the science test. Everyone else is done and staring at the clock. 1 minute left till 3 months of freedom.

I’m carefully writing, trying to finish an essay in the minute. Perfection is overrated, I just needed to finish the test.

And I so did that.

Kids start stuffing their pencils and books into their backpacks. Nobody wants to be late for summer. My hands are cramping. 14 page science Final with 4 essay questions, for 6th grade. Are 6th graders even suppose to have finals? Another kid rushes to turn it in.

The science tests are famous for being notoriously long. Why did I choose this test to doodle on?

The essay’s almost done, just a few more sentences. Our science teacher stops typing on his laptop and looks up.

“30 seconds.” He goes back to typing. His expression never changes.

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Dear Stephan Colbert: For English

Back story: So in English class a class project was, “Send a letter to your favorite celebrity asking for their autograph.” I sent this letter to him.
Dear Mr. Stephan Colbert:

Stephen Colbert as the fictional Stephen Colbert

Stephen Colbert as the fictional Stephen Colbert (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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