Working Out (My Writing)

I just started taking this intensive personal essay writing class (because I love to write and I love to talk about myself- it makes sense). I need to post more so I'm just gonna throw some of the stuff from class on this bad boy. Below is the VERY first exercise we did in which our instructor throws out a phrase and we run with it. Not my finest hour but what the heck. Enjoy this sucka...

On a cool day in March of 1997, I went to see Howard Stern's Private Parts.

In the language of Spies Like Us, Chevy Chase and Dan Akroyd gave underrated performances. Was it their best work? No, but there's little better than vegging on your couch on a cold Saturday, eating a good sandwich and watching that flick.

A bowl of clues under your bed for your parents to know you were doing something you weren't supposed to. Could I have gotten rid of them?

She threw stones across the water to make them jump, I've seen this done a million times but never as sensually. The stones kept skippin' and I kept lookin'.

A morbid fear of dancing and what do I do? A dance split. At my 10 year reunion. And I split my pants. And what was my solution for saving myself? I took my pants off.

Somewhere in the middle of the 3rd movement I fell asleep. I didn't want to, I wanted to give the impression that I cared, that my sensibilities were sophisticated enough. Really, I'd rather be at a Springsteen concert.

A magnesium flare in the distance, I don't even really know what this means. But what could it be? I guess it is bright and shiny. It would probably look pretty cool in the wilderness at least.

Green ribbons are what I received when I was a runner- I don't know where they are anymore.

What I forgot to say was really how much being here means to me. It means I am taking steps, taking control of my own destiny, not just playing it safe. Putting it out there to be judged- it's scary but okay.

So there you have it. I re-read what I wrote and if I were these strangers in my class I would gather that I am: A Baba Booey-loving, pop culture obsessed man-child who still worries about his parents knowing about the naughty things he's doing. Furthermore, I am horny, bad at problem solving, have never been outside of Jersey, am retarded and can't get past my glory days. Plus, I am embarrassingly corny and self-conscious. This is not totally true (but to an extent it is) but it just dawned on me that there's 15 people now that probably think I am a douche. Oof, it's gonna be a long semester.