The response was overwhelming, with almost 70 entries! Here are the most interesting, most well written, most enjoyable, most insightful, most sincere posts of the lot! Efforts were made to balance the amount of popular blogs and newer blogs. We hope you enjoy reading and maybe find somebody to add to your blogroll!
Bus stop by Princess Pointful
Whilst it seems to me that most people in his place would seek to tug their hoods over their eyes to avoid contact with those who knew their past or regale those from their past with tales belying their current condition, he is refreshingly earnest. He speaks of relapses and of trying to finding affordable housing while avoiding the ghetto, but also the positives of this particular city. He makes no excuses for where he is; he does not rant. He is not attempting to exchange a sob story for cash. He merely narrates. And, when my bus pulls up, he bids me goodbye, with nary a request.
A Letter To My Body- Sticks and Stones by Cooper
My last promise to you, though I know "sticks and stones will break your bones, but names will never hurt you, is probably the hardest promise to make in this culture of ours. I will never ever look at you in the mirror and say "bad, ugly body". Ever.
Love in 2008 by KatieScarlett
I was seventeen, high school was only three months behind me and I'd never been so scared in all of my life. I think he smiled at me. Or maybe he smiled at someone sitting near me. Either way, I was instantly in love.
The Line by Uncommon Blonde
What is it with old ladies and lines? There should be regular lines, express lines, and old people lines. I know that's totally offensive but seriously. There are lots of old people down here and even more during the winter months so I am constantly dealing with people backing out of parking spaces at the speed of paint drying and old ladies getting pissed about a line.
Race Relations by Deutlich
The first time I remember dealing with the brunt end of racism was in Frankfurt. At the time, my best friend was Daniel and we got along supremely well because he was British and German. He never saw my skin color; was just intrigued we could both speak the same two languages. One day, we were on our way to after-school care when bullies from the middle school across the street called me an assortment of colorful names. It was obvious that they took issue with my skin pigmentation. Daniel didn't like this - at all - and promptly defended me. In hindsight? Not the best idea. In response, they rushed over and one of them grabbed Daniel by the ankles to hang him upside down, after which both of them proceeded to beat the ever living shit out of him.
Picking a Side by Box of Jack
If people are going to upload a tonne of photos on to Facebook then I'm going to click 'em because I'm a natural snooper. This goes double if they're good-looking. I can't help but laugh when you see a whole page of photos where a girl has the exact same pose and smile in each one. She's staring at you from behind those gritted teeth and her eyes are saying, "This is my good side and you're going to have to pry it from my cold, dead hands before I give this up."
Dear Hillary by Carrie
Who knows where this primary will go. Right now it's you and Obama and only time will tell who will eventually win the nomination. I just want to let you know that if things don't go the way you want them to… if it turns out that this may not be the history you intended to make… Trust me: you've made it.
My Real Parents by Erin
The Public Parents exist for brief periods of time. The minute we walk into an event where they are needed, they appear. At least most of the time. There had been times when I've hoped and wished that the Public Parents would show up instead of the Real Parents. Please make me look good, I'd ask. I just need parents who appear to have some semblance of an intact marriage and don't argue all the time and act like everything is totally normal at home. But the Real Parents would come, arguing and acting like our family wasn't normal at all, and I would longingly look at my friends' parents who were just so…married.
My Love Hate Relationship With The Airport by Mintea
Then when I hit my twenties, going to the airport took on a different feel; when my love hate relationship with the airport really began. Each trip to the airport meant either one of two emotions, unadulterated joy or heartbreaking sadness. Then there's the separation anxiety. Don't you hate being separated from your loved ones? But when they return, it's like the best thing in the world. The joyful high I feel when they return is better than any sugar high I've ever had.
Meet My Ex-Girlfriend by d-blogged
eventually the bar closed, and we all spilled out onto lincoln avenue flagging down cabs and bidding our goodbyes. as i turned back to the bar's entrance, looking for kate so i didn't lose her, i was met with two hands on my waist and the aforementioned cougar's inquiry into my plan for the "rest of the evening" (thinly veiled, yes?). i looked past her, pointed at kate walking out of the bar, and said point blank, "...i'm going home with THAT girl."
A Piece of My Mind by Tipp
I don't talk much about my experience being an army wife. It was not a role I ever saw myself filling or even committing to. It was a very painful time and for that reason I don't discuss it or even remember it willingly.
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Congratulations to all the featured posts and thanks to Lisa for doing all the work for this (and allowing me to host!). Everybody else: submit next time! The theme is "firsts" and you can choose your own excerpt if you want to. You have until March 31st to submit your next post.
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