Infinite (Strange and Beautiful) Online - Brittney Musick

Cecilia Granger

Block 4

English Composition

Summer Writing Assignment

Silly Me

An Informative Essay

Draft 1

Even though I’ve done so often enough throughout the years, I always find it incredibly difficult to write about myself. Generally, I think of myself as being pretty boring. Most people—those I do and do not know well, alike—tend to think I’m pretty weird. Admittedly, I suppose I kind of am.

Usually, my brain is filled with a million thoughts. It’s the worst when I’m trying to go to sleep. Questions usually pop into my mind; most of them are a bit silly while others, in my opinion, require a great deal of analysis and serious consideration. I don’t know if this is something everyone experiences. For all I know, it may only happen to me. I don’t normally make a habit of sharing those thoughts with many people.

I mean, really, I can just imagine the look on my parents’ faces if I asked for their thoughts on the meaning of life. Undoubtedly, Dad would ask if I’d been partaking in any illegal substances, which I have not and will not ever do, and Mom would likely scurry about the kitchen, trying to get dinner on the table with a worried look on her face, while asking me if I’ve been having thoughts of suicide. Because, apparently, thinking about the meaning of life automatically means you’re planning to kill yourself.

I don’t often question the meaning of life. Most of the time, I just think about random things—like why is the sky blue and grass green? What if C-A-T really spelled dog? Okay, so I remember the last one from one of the Revenge of the Nerds movies. Even so, it’s something to think about. I don’t even know who made up the alphabet. Should that be something I know?

I often wonder if I’m in the dark about a lot of things; things that most people should just know. I don’t watch the news regularly, so I hardly ever know what’s going on in the world. Just knowing that there are kids around the world starving to death is depressing enough. And I don’t like hearing about parents killing their children or another school shooting. Besides, Dad likes to talk about these things during breakfast or dinner while he reads the newspaper. Sometimes I think he’s just talking to himself because his eyes never leave the pages of the paper.

I think I’m the only one who notices, though. My brother, Luke, is usually too busy playing one of his video games to notice anything, and my sister, Skylar, always brings her mp3 player to the table, so she never hears anything anyone says anyway. They both like to text their friends under the table, too, even though our mom tells them not to “because it’s rude.”

Mom usually doesn’t say much. I think she’s just a quiet person by nature. Sometimes I think we’re alike. I don’t talk much either, really, despite what my siblings might claim. It’s not really because I’m shy or anything. It’s mostly just because of the way my family acts when I do. Who wants siblings who ignore you, a dad who accuses you of being on drugs, and a mom that questions you about being suicidal (just because you want to talk about the meaning of life)?

I don’t.

I mean, it’s not that I dislike my family or anything. It’s just that we don’t really understand each other. Sometimes I think the only thing we have in common is the same last name: Granger.

Well, okay, that’s not exactly true.

Everyone tells me that I have Mom’s nose and eyes. But I have Dad’s ears. So do my brother and sister. I’ve only noticed that because both of them usually have something stuck in them.

I find it odd how the two of them can just shove things into their ears. That just bothers me. Plus, there’s the fact that Grandma Sawyer used to always tell me not to stick anything smaller than my elbow in my ear. (I always thought it would be hilarious to see someone try to stick an elbow in his or her ear. That would be a sight.)

But, yes, we all have Dad’s ears. Actually, my brother looks a lot like Dad did when Dad was younger and wasn’t so gray on top. I’ve also noticed Dad’s started losing his hair in the past few years. I think he’s noticed too because he keeps trying to comb it over. I don’t think it’s doing much good, though, but