My Biggest Regret

The idea of regret is bound to come up in one’s life at some point. It may pop up as we age, when one is faced with a medical condition or at a girl’s slumber party. I gave the notion some thought and have identified what I believe my biggest regret is. Like me, it’s complicated.

When in high school, there was a girl who sat by herself everyday at lunch. However, you shouldn’t think that I am that shallow. I recognize that this observation is not enough to lead me to any conclusions. I eat lunch by myself all of the time, either because all of my friends are in class or because I would just prefer to be alone that day.

What brings me to the conclusion that this girl did not have any friends was the fact that I had seen her several times around my high school’s neighborhood alone on Friday nights. No one was in class. It’s possible that her friends were at work. Yet whenever I saw her outside of school, she was inevitably alone.

I did not know this person at all. Physically, she was not the epitome of what a Westernized female should look like. She did not have nice clothes. In fact, her dress seemed to be modeled after an older female relative such as a mother or even a grandmother.

Thus far, my biggest regret is that whenever I saw this girl alone on a Friday or whenever else, I never sat with her. I always thought about it. Sometimes I concluded that she may appreciate anyone to talk to. She always looked lonely.

Furthermore, I began to ask myself why I never sat with her. Maybe I am more molded and effected by the media’s, society’s or the television’s ideas than I’d like to believe. I would like to say that her appearance meant nothing, that the fact that she had no other visible friends didn’t bother me, and that her loneliness would have been enough for me to go over there and try to find a good person. However, it seems that I can’t.

I never did anything about it. I never sat with her nor did I ever introduce myself. My actions did not correlate with what I thought was the right thing to do. It seems to be easier to think something than to actually do it.

What's Under My Bed?

When I was in elementary school, I was given an assignment to describe what was under my bed. Genius struck when I decided to plant plastic, rainbow colored bugs under my bed and write about them. However, I think I am finally ready to complete this assignment honestly and describe what is currently under my bed.

There are two water bottles in the upper right corner under my bed. They are used to water my plant, because it does not drink tap water. The plant is the only living thing that inhabits my bedroom beside myself and provides good company.

There are also tissues, quarters, socks, old fabric and wrapping paper under my bed. The box of tissues traveled to my room when I had the flu, while the quarters most likely fell out of my pockets and/or purse at some point in time. My socks have lived under my bed since I was two years old. I have no idea how the paper or the fabric found its way under my mattress.

Finally, there is a wooden plank under my bed. At seven I decided that if a fire or a burglar decided to terrorize my home, I would be ready with this piece of wood. In case of a fire, I would break the glass of my window and climb to the roof. If a burglar came in, I would knock him out.

After being honest, I can see why I decided to cheat on this assignment in second grade. For the most part, it is boring to write about the mundane, cliché items under one’s bed. It seems that I was a better writer in the second grade which does not surprise me.

Mini IP Story

Jennifer’s bedroom at her parent’s residence has been a mess for the entire week of Oct. 1st.

Jennifer lives with her parents in Westchester, N.Y. Her bedroom is a small, attic-like space with one window. Clothing, books, water bottles and papers were scattered around the room throughout the week.

Jennifer has not time to clean her room due to a busy academic and social schedule. Multiple essays and readings for different classes have kept her from the necessary organization of her room along with lunch and dinner dates.

Jennifer hopes to get the necessary cleaning done over Columbus Day weekend. “When everything is scattered around like this, I have difficulty getting my thoughts in order. I just feel so unorganized, and that’s a bad feeling,” Jennifer said.

Jennifer’s room has been pink for over 20 years. It consists of a queen size bed, a television, a blue felt chair, wall-to-wall carpeting, a wooden bureau and some clothing racks. White shelves have been built into the front of the room around the window. DVDs, videos, old textbooks, jewelry boxes and compact discs are on the shelves.

Jennifer’s mother, Angela, wants her to clean her room as well. “She’s 20 years old now, so I can’t tell her to clean her room anymore. But her bed is never made, and her socks always get lost under her bed,” Angela said. Angela hopes that Jennifer will remember to dust and vacuum as well.

Hopefully Jennifer will be able to get her room and her thoughts in order soon.