Monday, February 22, 2010

Music Video Story- Hey Soul Sister by Train

Hey Soul Sister…

I was sitting in the café, and waiting. I’m early, but I don’t care. I’ve been thinking about this day all week. I was staring at the wall drinking hot chocolate with a pile of whipped cream on top. It always reminds me of her. We would always go to the corner café about a way from the old high school. We’d share a hot coco. She always ate the whipped cream, and she’s get angry at me if I ate it first. She has away of doing this to me. All the little things remind me of her, and when I starting thinking about her I start remembering all the good times that we had. They start flooding into my brain, and I can’t stop it no matter how much I want it to stop.

I started thinking about that time in my kitchen. We were eating my world famous grilled cheese, and listening to the radio. An upbeat song came on, and she stood up, almost in a trance, with a huge smile on her face, and started to dance. I wasn’t sure of what I should do. I laughed at her at first, like she was telling a joke, but she wasn’t. She was just dancing. I told her that if she keeps dancing like that she would break all the china in my kitchen, but I don’t even think she heard me. She was so concentrated on the music. The beat was all around her. She was the beat. She was the rhythm. I did the only other thing I could do. I got up and started dancing with her, but not on her, if you know what I mean. If we were in a night club, we would have gotten kicked out for being too dorky. But we we’re in a night club, we were in my kitchen, dancing like maniacs. We jumped up and down, disco moves, crazy dancing from the 80’s, and our strange version of the jitterbug. I know it sounds awkward, but it strangely wasn’t. If I was in my world, I would have been crazy, and weird, but I wasn’t in my world. I was in her world, a world were dancing like go-go dancers was perfectly normal and a world that I was only allowed in every ounce in awhile, but it didn’t matter because I loved her.

I looked around the café, and the person who invade me dreams too much still wasn’t here. I looked down at my watch, and I remembered all the times that she used to grab my arm, before we were together, just to check the time. She did that the first time I have ever worn watch, and I’ve worn a watch every single day since that day all those years ago. I used to wear it because I wanted to grab my arm again and check the time, and she always did. I haven’t seen or heard from her in over five years, so I don’t know no why I still wear a watch. Maybe because of habit or maybe because everyday I still wish she would come up behind me and touch my arm to check the time.

As I came out of my trance, I heard the bell over the door to the café ring. It wasn’t her.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Introduction

My name is Kristen Bianco, and I like to think that I'm outgoing, but I'm really not, and an interesting thing about me is that I can say the alphabet backwards really really fast. I wonder if there is a job that you need to be qualified in saying the alphabet backwards. Maybe like someone who makes dictionaries, or something like that, but that would be a boring job. I think a job were you don't really have to do anything sounds like a good job. There is this job and all you have to do is grade icecream favors on their greatness. The thing that sucks about this job is that you are not allowed to swallow it. You have you swirl it around your mouth, and then spit it out. That is just evil. Anyways, I signed up for this course because I really like writing, and in English we don't do enough fun writing, and want to do more of it. Reading is fine, but I'd rather not read the really boring books that we are forced to read for english. The kind of writing that I like the most is poetry because there are really no rules. It can be anything you want it to be. There isn't really a structur that needs to be followed. The one that I don't really like memoirs because they are really boring to write because we have to tell you truth, and can't make up stuff to make it more interesting. I like to read the back of cereal boxes, and novels, I guess. Right now, I'm reading Dear John by Nicholas Sparks. It's about the saddest book I've ever read. Don't read it unless you feel like crying a river. The End.... or is it (insert dramatic music here).