The Day I Learned to Cross the Street

Crossing the street is a tricky business. There are so many aspects that go into the process. I could easily make this a metaphor for hard decisions in life or changes that everyone has to deal with, but I am not going to. This is legitimately about the day I learned to cross the street.

When I was younger I lived in a blue house on the corner of the street. The street dead ended at another street. I guess you could call it ending at a “T”. Yes, yes, that is what you call it.

One day, my mother and I were walking to the park. There were so many streets that had to be crossed. Not the one with the “T”, though. My mom taught me to look both ways. You look right then left, or was it left then right then left again? Oh my goodness. Well, perhaps this is why I constantly get run over by cars and bicycles. Never buses, no matter how much (on days I had exams) I hoped they would so I wouldn’t have to deal with whatever it was that I thought was going to ruin my life at that time. The buses never hit me, but then again, my life has yet to be ruined. *Knock on Wood*

So on this wonderful day, the day I learned to cross the street, my mother held my hand and we looked both ways, one of the ways twice, and walked out, one foot in front of the other. When crossing the street, holding hands is important. Mostly this is done when you’re young, the holding hands part. I personally feel that holding hands is important at any age. I have yet to find the person who wants to hold my hand while I’m crossing the street. And the many people who I’ve tried to hold hands with while crossing a particularly busy street (you know, I can handle the small, less traffic-filled streets okay, but not the big streets so much) always wriggle free. It’s a little hurtful, if I’m being honest.

What I guess I’m saying is that crossing the street triggered my need for companionship. Way to go, mom

Reason #39 why I need a man in my life: So I can have someone hold my hand when I cross the street.

The Day I Was Told I Couldn't Marry My Cousin

So no, in case you're wondering, let us just clarify, I was like 5 years old and under the impression marriage was supposed to be with someone you love and can stand to be around for long periods of time. My cousin, at the time, fit that description perfectly.

I remember getting up at the dinner table, really excited about my annoucement. I can't quite tell you what preceded this or what possessed me to make this a dinner-time matter. Like I said, I was 5.

I stood up, looked at my whole family. Well, not my whole family. If we really wanted to get into it, my family is HUGE and it would be a great feat indeed to have the WHOLE family at one table. They would probably have to have that table specially made, but we'll save that one for "The Day I Realized My Family Could Form a Small Country" chapter.

Anyway, I stood up, looked at some of my whole family, and announced that I would be marrying my cousin. To which the family looked at me and burst into laughter. I was a very frustrated little girl and did not, no, could not understand why my family was laughing at my declaration. I thought I had it all figured out. I wasn't going to have to worry about finding "Mr. Right", I was just going to marry my cousin who I got along with great and was able to boss around quite decently. My family quickly crushed my hopes and dreams of having a worry-free (well, at least in that area of my life) future. They informed me that as my cousin, he and I would be unable to get married. It is against the law. And something about incest.

The Day I Was Born

Oh, this day, this day was one of the best days in my life. You know, from what I can remember. Okay, who are we kidding here? I do not remember this day in the least. If you really want to know the truth, my parents could have just stuck with the whole, "Stork brought you" bit and I'd be none the wiser. They didn't. I still don't remember anything.

The Day I Decided To Write a Blog

So this all started off with the idea that I would write a book. Well, okay, so that's a lie. It started when I had to write 3 essays for a graduate level course for the midterm and I was having writer's block for that so, as a way to procrastinate, I started my book.

Well, I had two great "chapters" (chapters is in quotes because they are very short) and then I suffered from writer's block for that. When I first started the book (in March), I began googling how people start books, etc. Well, one person suggested that you start off with a blog to see if anyone is even interested in what you have to say. I'm not honestly thinking that I'll ever have a book, but this way it'll be easier if I have an idea for a "chapter" I can just write it out. And, I mean, feedback is always appreciated. My sister says it reads like stand up comedy, so that's exciting.

In any case, I hope that it's enjoyable and that someday, maybe, I'll develop it into some kind of book. Mostly, the main aim is to be funny. So laugh a lot, please!