Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah
Although the sunlight hid behind the smoke, the heat of a blazing summer provided just what she needed. So many referred to her as a Sun Worshiper. To be honest, she agreed and felt a peculiar sense of notoriety: people know me, she told herself. But, to be noticed for something many people experience? She just couldn't figure out the "Fame" of it all. She wondered if this is what it's like to be famous: a sense of worthlessness, of fakery.
Of course, she did not strive to be known, not like the mindless ghouls of Hollywood. Most of them sold their souls so early in their careers that reality became like paint: many colors running together to the point the original becomes unrecognizable, even to themselves.
Oh, well.
Her friends are not known at all. Often referred to by others as "different." Whatever that means. Aren't we ALL different? That difference makes us the unique beings we are, right? She pondered, stirring her soup at such a dizzying speed that the ingredients became so close to the rim of the bowel that danger appeared quite imminent!
The time for class fast-approached, as it always did, slowing to a crawl once the class began.
"As promised yesterday," the professor starts, "we break into five groups of five ...." Her voice became as dull as the mixed paint discussed earlier... .
A random draw. Put names on pieces of paper, a procedure learned in grade school. Great. Then, the "agonizing" process began. (Her mind, again, wondered. This time as superiority engulfed her attitude.)
Never, thought she, had a drawing of names worked out for her. Years of doing most of the work, if not all, certainly will happen again. She sighed, suddenly exhausted.
"Penelope." Her face reddening at the thought of others hearing a name so archaic as to be unknown to all. Well, isn't this little juxtaposition interesting! "Unknown," she said out loud. A few giggles brought to end her trance. "Bruce." Oh, great. The boy who's always hitting on evey girl except Penelope. Perhaps he's not a 'Sun Worshiper,' Penny (her nickname given by her friends) laughed. Again. Out loud. "Sinthia." A cute blonde with a H-U-G-E nose. Very self- conscious. "Brady." Crap! A jock. More work for me, she dredded. "And, Sloane."
Absolutely the most
B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L girl in the
W-O-R-L-D!!! So beautiful that even other girls didn't talk with her, so intimidated where they.
In addition to the usual 10+ page research paper, a presentation - rather large to be honest - with a plethora of visual slides to round out the pain.
The assignment. (The word 'assignment' always brings a smirk to Penelope's face.) "Ass ignment." Although childish, the Ass in assignment explains pretty much her attitude about ass ignments in general. However, what Penelope didn't realize, not yet anyway, is the focus of the project: finding out about others in order to address who we truly are in relationship to others.
Hmmmm. This might be interesting afterall, despite withwhom she got stuck.
