hey guys
first of all, let me tell you a scary story that happened to me. so i'm walking back from milaines, and im on hilton, and its right after a huge rainstorm. by the way, i walked to milaine's hosue in the rainstorm so i was soaking anyways. anyhow, the street was flooded but i decided 2 run thru the water because why not? after i was halfway through, i realized that the water was halfway up my legs and this wasnt working. so i stood there, in the middle of the street, in teh middle of a lake, trying 2 figure otu where to go. suddenly, a car comes up behind me and sprays me w/ water all over, drenching me. i jumped, surprised, and slipped. i fell down in the water. and i was sitting there. in the water. in the middle of the street. it was traumatizing. i called all my friends and told them after. they all laughed at me! including yaakov...you'd expect mroe support!! even mom laughed at me...i guess the driver of the car must have thought it was funny.
anyhows-
i had to write a speech about myself for public speaking. im gonna put it up here cuz its funny- tell me what you think!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was a cold morning. The kind of morning where you just want to lie in bed. Unfortunately for my mom and dad, I decided to be born that morning. 8 oclock, January 8, 1991. Since then, I’ve always hated waking up at 8. I was a gorgeous little baby, born with orange hair. On the block, I was known as the orange baby. To my cousins, I was known as Sheva Brachos, and to my family, I was known as Pebbles. I was born into a family of 5 brothers and one sister. She was excited when I was born, because she would have a girl to talk to.
A couple years passed, and I started nursery. I hated nursery. I remember being SO excited because I brought a Barney towel for rest time. Turns out, Barney towels were on sale and everyone had a Barney towel. It kind of ruined nursery for me.
Pre1A- The first day, my teacher called my mother to tell her that I didn’t know how to say my name, that it was Bas Sheva, not Batsheva. I didn’t like her from then on.
Then came first grade. I hated first grade. I was a cute first grader, with long hair that I’d never cut in my life, young and naïve about school. That was the year I found out the real truth about it. Also, I cut my hair for the first time that year. I’d describe it as traumatizing. That was first grade.
I don’t remember second grade. I figure if I don’t remember it, it can’t have been that bad.
Third grade was the year my sister graduated. I missed her because she didn’t bring me Slurpees at lunch time anymore. I think third grade was when I stopped being cute.
Fifth grade…lets just say it was interesting.
We were so cool in sixth grade- our own hallway for hanging out. Sixth grade wasn’t so bad. It could’ve been worse.
Seventh and eighth were basically the same…we were so cool. We thought we ruled the school.
Then came ninth grade. High school. Some issues, nothing me and my friends couldn’t deal with. A couple suspensions, detentions…I passed ninth grade somehow, and came to tenth.
I can’t tell you about it yet, because its still happening. Look me up next year though, and I’ll let ya know how it went.
