My first english paper..
I felt like I needed to share this with people. This is my first english paper in college, and it is quite honest, though a bit has been embesslished. The following is a story:
The familiar feeling rose in my chest, the one where a million hyper active butterflies were pounding their tiny wings upon my ribcage, and they would soon migrate to my brain to block every one of my coherent thoughts. I was accustomed to the feeling for it happened every time Jim Hurder came around me. Jim was what I consider my first real crush. I do not remember having any crushes before him, but I am sure I did.Ironically, realizing that Jim was imperfect taught me that self confidence and hard work are important qualities.
Jim Hurder has many qualities that were admirable. He was our school’s fastest runner, held a major role in every school musical, and achieved a 4.0. He was and still is exceedingly handsome with an athlete’s build, perfectly shaggy brown hair, and an amazing smile. He was my own Orlando Bloom. I was not the only girl in school who had a crush on him; I am pretty sure he had a fanclub. The best quality was that he wasn’t vain; he did not boast about his talents. He was amazingly humble about his amazing attributes.
I do not remember the particular moment I fell for Jim. I do remember other girls whispering in the halls about how gorgeous and perfect Jim was. “If I was younger, I would so go after him” was repeated by many upperclassmen, who saw themselves as too young to become the “older woman” just yet. I do know that by my sophomore season of Cross Country, I was utterly useless around him. I was able to carry a conversation with Jim, but the conversations tended to be silly and rambling, though they weren’t much different then my typical conversation that were mostly pointless. I liked to be the center of attention, and I never knew when to keep my mouth shut. One particular moment stands clearly out in my mind. One warm Friday afternoon after Cross Country practice, Jim asked what I was doing for the weekend, and I managed to fill thirty minutes worth of time discussing the need to finish my research paper. I could have kicked myself for that lame response. I am sure Jim did not want to hear about the Nazi Olympics and Jesse Owens. I had only shown my ignorance and lack of social skills. More moments such as this occurred and my crushed only seem to worsen until the early fall of junior year.
“Hawkins,” my cross country coach called me and of course I went to him. “Can you give Jim a ride home?” he asked me, and all I could do was simply nod my head in response. I was elated at the chance to redeem myself, and let him see how wonderful of a person I was .I just hoped I could carry on a normal conversation and not hit a mailbox. We walked to the car in uncomfortable silence. I slipped into my black car to start the air conditioning to hoping to cool the warm air, much warmer then the cool autumn air outside. Little traffic hindered us and we were soon on our way to his house. I tried to start a conversation by asking, “Where is your car?” “My brother is home,” he responded. The conversation did not get much better. Every question I asked seemed to get a monosyllable response. If he did not give me more then a sentence answer I was going to stop the car and make him walk. The air was thick without breezy words filling it. I tried to fill the air with interesting conversation, but I only felt like I was talking to myself. I looked at him to seek any sign of interest; he seemed to be only staring at the bleak landscape of the cow fields my car was passing. That fifteen minute car ride felt like eternity. When we finally arrived at his house, I felt horribly disappointed.
On the car ride home alone with Jack Johnson blaring over my sound system, I replayed the car trip over in my head. I tried to figure out why I was so disappointed. I had not expected a romantic moment with kisses and sweet nothings being whispered in my ear. I expected a normal conversation that did not feel like we were perfect strangers. I had tried. The bright reds and oranges of the leaves swirled pass my window as my thoughts began to sort themselves out in my mind. Like leaves, my thoughts fell into place, and I realized that Jim was not some superhero, just a human like me who worked hard at his talents and was self confident enough not to have to be the center of attention. I could do the same and work to better my talents. I was determined to be admired by others.
After getting over the crush, Jim and I became friends. We had much in common: a similar taste in indie pop music, a passion for running, and a strict work ethic. He was there to help when, later my junior year; I fell only five meters from the finish line of the qualifying track race, thus failing to make it to the state meet. He was able to calm me down, and the next year when I made it to state he came to see me run. To this day, He makes fun of my country accent, and I tease him about his newly acquired northern one. Words come naturally to us both now and conversation flows naturally. We worked out better as friends. We became equal in a relationship based on trust not a silly fluttering in my chest.
I took the lesson I learned from my silly crush and used it. The change came quickly, and my friends started to notice. “You have matured, but I don’t know when it happened” became a common phrase I heard. This comment was much better than the “just be quiet” that I heard for so many years before. All I could do was inwardly smile when the comment reached my ears. I became captain of the track and field team that very same spring. Listening to other complaints was hard at first when I knew they were just making excuses as why not to work. I keept my mouth shut and waited until they were done to correct them. I’m not saying I was perfect and I still had problems with one girl, but I did not let that get in the way of me being successful. By my senior year, I was chosen captain of my cross country team out of ten other seniors. I won the leadership award for leading my team. I now know when to talk and when to be silent. I learned lesson by working hard at my talents and learning that I did not need to always be the center of attention. I did not have a fairy tale ending to my crush where I was swept off my feet and carried off to live happily ever after. I had an ending that was better; I had an ending where I was the hero and learned to love myself.
The familiar feeling rose in my chest, the one where a million hyper active butterflies were pounding their tiny wings upon my ribcage, and they would soon migrate to my brain to block every one of my coherent thoughts. I was accustomed to the feeling for it happened every time Jim Hurder came around me. Jim was what I consider my first real crush. I do not remember having any crushes before him, but I am sure I did.Ironically, realizing that Jim was imperfect taught me that self confidence and hard work are important qualities.
Jim Hurder has many qualities that were admirable. He was our school’s fastest runner, held a major role in every school musical, and achieved a 4.0. He was and still is exceedingly handsome with an athlete’s build, perfectly shaggy brown hair, and an amazing smile. He was my own Orlando Bloom. I was not the only girl in school who had a crush on him; I am pretty sure he had a fanclub. The best quality was that he wasn’t vain; he did not boast about his talents. He was amazingly humble about his amazing attributes.
I do not remember the particular moment I fell for Jim. I do remember other girls whispering in the halls about how gorgeous and perfect Jim was. “If I was younger, I would so go after him” was repeated by many upperclassmen, who saw themselves as too young to become the “older woman” just yet. I do know that by my sophomore season of Cross Country, I was utterly useless around him. I was able to carry a conversation with Jim, but the conversations tended to be silly and rambling, though they weren’t much different then my typical conversation that were mostly pointless. I liked to be the center of attention, and I never knew when to keep my mouth shut. One particular moment stands clearly out in my mind. One warm Friday afternoon after Cross Country practice, Jim asked what I was doing for the weekend, and I managed to fill thirty minutes worth of time discussing the need to finish my research paper. I could have kicked myself for that lame response. I am sure Jim did not want to hear about the Nazi Olympics and Jesse Owens. I had only shown my ignorance and lack of social skills. More moments such as this occurred and my crushed only seem to worsen until the early fall of junior year.
“Hawkins,” my cross country coach called me and of course I went to him. “Can you give Jim a ride home?” he asked me, and all I could do was simply nod my head in response. I was elated at the chance to redeem myself, and let him see how wonderful of a person I was .I just hoped I could carry on a normal conversation and not hit a mailbox. We walked to the car in uncomfortable silence. I slipped into my black car to start the air conditioning to hoping to cool the warm air, much warmer then the cool autumn air outside. Little traffic hindered us and we were soon on our way to his house. I tried to start a conversation by asking, “Where is your car?” “My brother is home,” he responded. The conversation did not get much better. Every question I asked seemed to get a monosyllable response. If he did not give me more then a sentence answer I was going to stop the car and make him walk. The air was thick without breezy words filling it. I tried to fill the air with interesting conversation, but I only felt like I was talking to myself. I looked at him to seek any sign of interest; he seemed to be only staring at the bleak landscape of the cow fields my car was passing. That fifteen minute car ride felt like eternity. When we finally arrived at his house, I felt horribly disappointed.
On the car ride home alone with Jack Johnson blaring over my sound system, I replayed the car trip over in my head. I tried to figure out why I was so disappointed. I had not expected a romantic moment with kisses and sweet nothings being whispered in my ear. I expected a normal conversation that did not feel like we were perfect strangers. I had tried. The bright reds and oranges of the leaves swirled pass my window as my thoughts began to sort themselves out in my mind. Like leaves, my thoughts fell into place, and I realized that Jim was not some superhero, just a human like me who worked hard at his talents and was self confident enough not to have to be the center of attention. I could do the same and work to better my talents. I was determined to be admired by others.
After getting over the crush, Jim and I became friends. We had much in common: a similar taste in indie pop music, a passion for running, and a strict work ethic. He was there to help when, later my junior year; I fell only five meters from the finish line of the qualifying track race, thus failing to make it to the state meet. He was able to calm me down, and the next year when I made it to state he came to see me run. To this day, He makes fun of my country accent, and I tease him about his newly acquired northern one. Words come naturally to us both now and conversation flows naturally. We worked out better as friends. We became equal in a relationship based on trust not a silly fluttering in my chest.
I took the lesson I learned from my silly crush and used it. The change came quickly, and my friends started to notice. “You have matured, but I don’t know when it happened” became a common phrase I heard. This comment was much better than the “just be quiet” that I heard for so many years before. All I could do was inwardly smile when the comment reached my ears. I became captain of the track and field team that very same spring. Listening to other complaints was hard at first when I knew they were just making excuses as why not to work. I keept my mouth shut and waited until they were done to correct them. I’m not saying I was perfect and I still had problems with one girl, but I did not let that get in the way of me being successful. By my senior year, I was chosen captain of my cross country team out of ten other seniors. I won the leadership award for leading my team. I now know when to talk and when to be silent. I learned lesson by working hard at my talents and learning that I did not need to always be the center of attention. I did not have a fairy tale ending to my crush where I was swept off my feet and carried off to live happily ever after. I had an ending that was better; I had an ending where I was the hero and learned to love myself.