WELCOME TO THE "QUIET" PAGE...
Quiet with a Hint of Aggression
Rebecca DeMatteo 12/18
Am I just that quiet? Quiet enough that you forget I’m here? Quiet enough that you don’t notice when I’ve gotten up and walked to another table? I can’t be that quiet. I'm Italian; we’re not quiet people. If you don’t believe me, ask me about Thanksgiving.
You know what? I’ll just tell you because I know you won’t ask. And even if you do, you’ll probably lose interest or go on your phone. So, STORYTIME! It’s Thanksgiving, which is my favorite holiday. Lyman Hall kept their Thanksgiving Game despite the extreme cold because it’s not a true Thanksgiving Game unless it’s on Thanksgiving. This is a fact, not an opinion. My family shows up with (what I’ve been told since I didn’t go because sleep was a little more important) a purse full of Fireball nips. Now, after the game we finish the whole turkey (because for some reason only one was cooked this year despite the usual two) we go over my great aunt’s house. It’s dessert time and the extra Fireball nips are being thrown around the table. One finds its way into my Grandma’s hand despite the fact that she's not supposed to drink. Yet, here we all are, screaming “Shot! Shot! Shot!” and “Barb! Barb! Barb!” only for her to take the smallest sip possible. We were all so loud and hype for that. Not even thirty seconds of yelling filled the house. I was probably the loudest voice of them all.
But, hey, maybe it’s my fault. I don’t like talking. You can ask my teachers (just not my third grade teacher Mrs. Ripkin, because she said I was too loud in class); they’ll tell you I need to talk more in class. I kind of prefer to listen (am I a stalker?). But even listening has its limits. Like, I don’t need to hear you plan something with me sitting right there only to not invite me. It’s rude and you’re fake. I don’t have time for that.
Not to mention, I’m quiet enough not to tell people how I feel. Because maybe I would have told you how I felt when you didn't invite me. I just keep my opinions bottled up…for now. Maybe one day I’ll smash all those “bottles” and you’ll get to know what I really think.
For now, I’ll just be quiet.
Rebecca DeMatteo 12/18
Am I just that quiet? Quiet enough that you forget I’m here? Quiet enough that you don’t notice when I’ve gotten up and walked to another table? I can’t be that quiet. I'm Italian; we’re not quiet people. If you don’t believe me, ask me about Thanksgiving.
You know what? I’ll just tell you because I know you won’t ask. And even if you do, you’ll probably lose interest or go on your phone. So, STORYTIME! It’s Thanksgiving, which is my favorite holiday. Lyman Hall kept their Thanksgiving Game despite the extreme cold because it’s not a true Thanksgiving Game unless it’s on Thanksgiving. This is a fact, not an opinion. My family shows up with (what I’ve been told since I didn’t go because sleep was a little more important) a purse full of Fireball nips. Now, after the game we finish the whole turkey (because for some reason only one was cooked this year despite the usual two) we go over my great aunt’s house. It’s dessert time and the extra Fireball nips are being thrown around the table. One finds its way into my Grandma’s hand despite the fact that she's not supposed to drink. Yet, here we all are, screaming “Shot! Shot! Shot!” and “Barb! Barb! Barb!” only for her to take the smallest sip possible. We were all so loud and hype for that. Not even thirty seconds of yelling filled the house. I was probably the loudest voice of them all.
But, hey, maybe it’s my fault. I don’t like talking. You can ask my teachers (just not my third grade teacher Mrs. Ripkin, because she said I was too loud in class); they’ll tell you I need to talk more in class. I kind of prefer to listen (am I a stalker?). But even listening has its limits. Like, I don’t need to hear you plan something with me sitting right there only to not invite me. It’s rude and you’re fake. I don’t have time for that.
Not to mention, I’m quiet enough not to tell people how I feel. Because maybe I would have told you how I felt when you didn't invite me. I just keep my opinions bottled up…for now. Maybe one day I’ll smash all those “bottles” and you’ll get to know what I really think.
For now, I’ll just be quiet.
