Thoughts from the Past: The Pink and White Fabric

The voices of excited high school freshmen filled a brightly lit classroom, though their voices dulled as they left the room to head for another class. I was straggling behind like I do sometimes, making sure everything in my book bag was in its proper place. (I am grateful though, it would have been more embarrassing if there were others.)

I took the lone strap of my messenger bag and wrapped it around my shoulder. It slid down until its body rested against my hip. I smiled; I always had fun being a TA for my favorite teacher—Mrs. Olivares. There would be stories about the oddest things in her class, many of them revolving around giving birth, since my English teacher was pregnant. I felt sorry for her; she was miserable all the time. She felt like she was a “hundred months pregnant”—I don’t blame her, pregnancy is not easy on the body. That is why it is on my list of three reasons why I’m glad not to be a girl. The other two are periods and shaving legs. I would be way too lazy to shave my legs; they would be as hairy as the back of Chewbacca. Yep, only three reasons. I’m not sexist, please don’t get me wrong, for I have nothing against women. I believe they are one of God’s most amazing creations, and they deal with issues that would make a grown man cry. Continue reading

The Good Muslim

Two men took a seat at a table of a local coffee shop. One was dressed in a suit and tie with a Café Mocha at his fingertips. He had walked over from the courthouse after many hours of defending his business client, who was being sued from a customer who had fallen and broken a hip at his establishment from a wet floor, with a wet floor sign absent from the scene.

The other man was dressed more casual, jeans, T-shirt, and sipping from a Caramel Frappuccino. He was a teacher, who had spent the day substituting a College Algebra class at a private Christian School, mind-blowing their worlds with the quadratic formula.

“So Chris,” the lawyer said to the teacher, wanting to test him and to prove his superiority, “I have a question for you.”

“Shoot,” the teacher replied.

“How can I get into Heaven?” Continue reading

Winter Storm Thor

The Journal of a Snowbound College Kid.


5Day 1: I hear the sleet pelting on my windows as I type this entry. Luckily, I still have power, and the warm water has not gone out. School has already been canceled for tomorrow, for the Eskimo and polar bear-hybrid populations are low in the university’s student body. In addition, if the fear from the storm was not enough to cancel classes, there are many desperate students who are more than willing to fake their own deaths to escape from midterms.

My feet have thawed from braving the storm. I had been blinded from assaulting ice, while trudging through the slippy landscape. Luckily, I was not spotted by any famished abominable snowmen as I made my way here.  Continue reading