Page 162 in YOUR autobiography...write your own future!

[Meg Boyd]

Ok fellow writers, here is the scoop:

As an essay for a University of Minnesota-Twin Cities scholarship, I had to write (approx. 500 words) page 162. I thought this was incredibly fun to write, and even more fun to read the page 162 of other scholars! So now here is my plan for all of you writers (and non-writers) alike...I challenge you all to compose page 162 of your autobiography...page 162 could be in any place in your life, depending how eventful you feel your life will be, or has been so far...and also to read the pg 162 of other writers...this could be SO fun, so I encourage all of you to join in the fun! So compose your own page and post it here!!!! To start it off here is mine...

.... I desperately needed to put my best foot forward to have Mr. William’s support of my screen play in progress. With out his help I knew I would have to face even more rejections. Now, every hope I had of success was literally flushed down the toilet…along with my fried chicken dinner. As I inched my self from the floor by the toilet to my bed, memories of my gross display of my meal upon my host’s heirloom table cloth bounced around my fretting brain. Each recollection of my reaction to Mrs. William’s overly greasy dinner hovered around me like a dark shadow, but finally I succumbed to troubled sleep.

Suddenly I was awakened by the shrill ring of my phone. It had seemed as if I had only just put my head on my pillow, but the early afternoon sun pouring through my window said otherwise. “Hello?” I croaked

“Is this Mary Matteson?” a familiar voice inquired.

“Yes, may I ask who is calling?” I answered.

“It’s me, Mike. I’m home.”

I plopped down on my second-hand couch in shock. My best friend, Michael, had left for the Big Apple right after college to pursue an audition for the Tonight Show band. Knowing that he had superb, God given talent, and would probably find suitable work right away, I had come to the conclusion that I would never see him again.

“Oh man, how are you? Why, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes…uh…I mean sore ears, oh man…”

“Mary, you never could say that quite right. Anyways, I called to see if you’d like to catch up over a cup of coffee and a movie? Meet you at the Bay Park at quarter to seven?”

“See you there, kiddo.”

At twenty to seven I pulled up to the Bay Park Cinema. As I walked through the glass revolving door, I saw the familiar smile of my ‘long lost’ best friend.

“Hey there!” I shouted. Ignoring the raised eyebrows of the monkey-suited ushers, I ran towards Mike.

“Hey kid, sorry to cut this greeting short but I got us tickets to the twenty-fifth anniversary viewing of Back to the Future. It starts in five minutes, so we’d better hurry!” Mike said after a quick hug.

We entered the dark theater just as the picture began. Taking our seats, I began to be enamored once again with my favorite childhood film, the one that made me realize I wanted to be a screen writer. While watching the movie, I felt an affinity with Marty McFly, realizing that one mistake can set a chain reaction affecting every future aspect of one’s life. I never thought I’d be a victim of the Butterfly paradox with out even venturing out of the present. And that’s when it hit me. A scathingly brilliant idea hit me just as lighting hit the clock tower. Suddenly my thoughts were whisked to a burst of creative flow gracing me with the perfect idea for a new screen play that was destined to be a block buster. After months of rejections, who knew that the right screen play muse was a high school friend and a movie starring Michael J. Fox? I knew now, just as Marty learned, that my future wasn’t written. It is what I made it, and I knew I was going to make it a good one.

[pinky p]

ooh this is going to be fun! great idea, meg!

i voted for engineer... i want to be an architect, which is sort of similar. i would really like to major in architecture, but with a minor in structural engineering... all the people i've talked to say the big problem with architects these days is that they can design beautiful buildings, but not functional ones so i guess i'd like to be an architect who designs structurally sound buildings

anyways, page 162 of my autobiography:

...Have you ever had the feeling you were just going to die on the spot? Well, at that moment I did. So, naturally, I wanted to get out of there as fast as I could. I took to the streets, getting away from that party as fast as my swimmer's legs could carry me.

My apartment was five miles away, and I wasn't running all the way there. Instead, I stopped in at a little coffee shop that had become one of my favorite places to read, being right next to the architecture building. The place was practically deserted, it being 3 o'clock in the morning. In fact, I wasn't even quite sure why it was open. Perhaps it was fate...

There was one other customer in the store, a short blonde haired girl. She looked to be about my age, and was reading a text book that was required for one of the courses I was taking. Actually, I was surprised I had never seen her before.

I wasn't going to bother her, so I just quietly sipped at my coffee, wondering who she was. However, she walked right up to my table and sat down beside me.

"Hi, I'm Melinda- Melinda Rhyes. I've seen you around campus before... what's your name?"

"Kelsey- Kelsey Sorenson. I've never seen you... where do you live?"

"An apartment, by the lake. Anyways, I was wondering- do you want to start a firm with me when we graduate?" I was immediately taken aback by the forwardness of this question. I mean, I didn't even know this girl... this was the first time I'd even talked to her!

We talked almost that whole night, and into the next day. We talked on the phone every day the next week. I got to know that girl like no other, and she became my best friend. And then, after we graduated, whadya know. We opened our very own architectural firm...

[pinky p]

i just realized... mine is waaaay too short. oh well... my autobiography is going to be pocket-sized for convience... only a little bit on each page

[Meg Boyd]

why is it too short? it is just page 162, i mean it is just an idea not an actual page, m'dear!...who is too say how long one's autobiography should be? Anyways that was a good one, see we got to learn that you love arctitecture (sp)...I didn't know that!

[pinky p]

why thank you, meg

i just said that because you said it should be around 500 words... and mine is not around 500 words

[Meg Boyd]

no, I guess I should have specified...The University of Minnesota-Twin Cities said 500 words, I guess I didn't really care how long it was...I see this as an neat expression of who we are and who we want to be...and hopefully to discover unknown appreciation of those around us!

[pinky p]

ok

looking forward to reading the page 162s of other members!

[choki]

Erm...I was wondering...can I write about something which I knew would never be my future??? This idea about pg 162 is excellent but I wanted to write about some strange things...well, wait till I finish that mini story before I post it and you gals be the judges

Hope I don go out of point!

[Meg Boyd]

choki you can write what ever you want in this page 162, it is meant as a neat way to express our hopes and dreams through creativity, no matter how unlikely these creative hopes are...i am sure what ever you write will be awesome, and I look forward to reading it...but most of all have fun writing it!

[choki]

I always wanted to be a paleontologistng. You see, I was fascinated about dinosaurs since I was young and even till now. But I guess it will always be my dream...an impossible dream...because I don't think I could become one and lest alone to get a dinosaur named after me

Page 162 of My Autobiography, Vol 6...hehe you will know what I mean later...

Looking up into the infinite darkness of the night, I smirked. It was the perfect opportunity to act under the cover of this absolute darkness. Not wanting to risk my exposure too early, I hid myself in the dark alley, far away from the prying eyes of the top-notch bodyguards surrounding my target.

“This should be easy,” I said to the person standing next to me, “that foolish old man wouldn’t survive past this night.” Although the presence of those big, burly bodyguards may prove to be an obstacle, it definitely did not increase the old man’s odd for survival.

I could even taste the sweetness of victory in the air. However, what was this feeling I am having? Guilt? This was not the first time I had killed someone. An image of an elderly man playing happily with his grandchildren flashed through my mind. Am I hesitating at this very moment? What am I contemplating about?

“Emotions…so this is the feeling I am having now…again…” I gave a heartily laugh. I have been devoid of all emotions a long time ago ever since…she died a long time ago.

“Are you alright?” The man beside me spoke with such coldness in his voice. I shook off that train of thoughts, focusing my attention to the crowd. There he was, he started addressing the public. That signalled the time for the kill.

Assuming a fake identity of a police officer, I sneaked up close to the man whom my gaze had been set for – The President. Perhaps I was looking for a way to die. I could picture myself surrounded by at least twenty trained personnel, pointing their laser guns at every inch of my body. But then again, would I die that easily? Maybe if they had used a simpler weapon…

As I approached the target, I felt a tugging at my pants. I looked down. It was a small girl, roughly at the age of four.

“Little girl…I have no time for you…so excuse me…”
“Hi there, what can I do for you?” Though there are pressing matters to do, I decided to help this girl for now.

“You are lost, aren’t you? Where is your mama?” I found myself, asking a confused four year old. “Geez…am I speaking a foreign language or what…” I held the girl up in my arms and started to look around the crowd for any frantic looking adult. The crowd standing around the square was huge and packed and with a small child in my arms, it doubled my difficulty to manoeuvre. Thankfully, it took me a while to find a distressed woman who was craning her neck amongst the standing crowd. I hurried my pace before the lady who seemed to be on the verge of breaking down.

“Excuse me, Lady. But is this your child?” To my surprise, that woman quickly threw her arms around my neck. Before I could ease myself, she kissed my cheek.

“Thank you so much, Officer!” The woman said, shaking my hand profusely.
“You’re just wasting my precious time…don’t bring your child out to such crowded place for goodness sake.”
“You’re welcome. Take care of your child. Won’t wanna lose her again.” I winked and bid my goodbye to the reunited family. As I walked forward, I felt a tap on my shoulder.
Turning around, I saw a familiar face. I reckoned the man to follow me out of the crowds.

“Where have you been? Master…”

“That old man isn’t up to my taste…”

“Should I get someone to bring my lord a prey?” The man answered with the same coldness. Then again...he had been dead for so long...

“Do it then…I am getting a little hungry…” I smiled, revealing two pointed fangs as the coloration of my pupils turned crimson - the colour of blood.

[Meg Boyd]

wow...are you a vampire??? It was awesome but I am lost...but it was SOOOOO excellent! Wow, wow wow and wow again...

[choki]

I think everyone who read this will be lost hehe...since this is just a very short story

Those in italics are my dialouge in my head if you haven't figured it out...guess I'm very misleading hehe

If you didn't read till the very end, you might think I am an assasin.
I am thinking of writing more...(that's me...everytime I get a new idea, I'll continue)

How about Pg 162 from Vol. 3 hehe...maybe it will be about the incident that led to an emotion-less immortal...and since I am an immortal...I will have countless volumes (maybe I should stop... )

[pinky p]

cool! i first thought you were a hit man, too, then at the end with the fangs... i thought you were a snake or summat i hope you do write some more, now you've got me interested

[zledm007]

sorry, it's a little long....(take 2)

So there I was, rejected from yet another performance job, on the streets of New York with only my saxophone, the clothes on my back, and a couple dollars in my pocket. What I was going to do next, I had no idea. I had hit every place I could to audition into a band, or any performance gig for that matter, except one. There was still that one audition I could try, but I knew it was nearly impossible. Only the future greats get accepted there. There was an opening for a sax player, but they were looking for someone like a Branford Marsalis, and I was no Marsalis. I could’ve told you that much. However, with nowhere else to turn but home and the teaching degree I had sitting in my back pocket, I figured “What do I have to lose?” and went for it.

Before I knew what I was doing, I had used the last of my remaining cash on a bus ticket, and was headed to the last place I thought I’d be going. The bus ride was long, but I was very fortunate to make friends with one of the most interesting people I have ever met while on this cross-country tour. Sitting next to me was a man by the name of Jack Carrows. Jack was, at the time, in his middle forties, about twenty years my senior, about my height, and balding slightly. He was on his way to Los Angeles to meet his sixteen-year-old daughter for the first time. Jack and his daughter’s mother had parted ways shortly before her birth, and Jack hadn’t built up the courage to meet her until that day.

Jack told me that he and Sarah, his daughter Miranda’s mother, were very much in love at the time of their separation, but he was, in his eyes, incapable of being an adequate father and thought it best for Miranda to be raised by her mother alone, without him there. He said it was the most difficult decision he had ever made, but that he didn’t regret it. By way of letters he had been receiving annually from Sarah, he knew that Miranda, who he understood liked to be called Andy by her friends, was an honor student, an athlete, and well respected by all that had met her. Although he was more nervous than any man I had ever seen, he was also very much looking forward to the opportunity he had been given. Upon arriving in Los Angeles, Jack and I exchanged phone numbers and addresses and I wished him the best of luck, as he did I.

I now had to focus on the audition I had scheduled in Burbank for the following day. Jack had told me of a great place he knew of that was always looking for entertainment and would surely allow me lodging in exchange for some music. On his advice, I searched out this inn. To my delight, Jack was correct. The Welcome Inn was located about five miles from the bus station, quite the walk but well worth it. When I arrived at the inn I explained my situation to the lady at the front desk and she directed me to the owner, a man in his late sixties or early seventies ironically named Emilio Carrows. I later learned that Emilio was Jack’s father. Needless to say, Emilio was delighted and assured me that, should I provide them with some music that night during their dinner hours, he would gladly board me for the night at no charge.

My audition the next day was at 10:00 in the morning, leaving me little time to get to Burbank. After saying my thank yous and goodbyes, I used the money Emilio so kindly offered me to pay for a taxi. I arrived at the studio about an hour early, which was ideal to allow me adequate time to warm up and double check the requirements for the audition. There was a man just inside the door who guided me to a warm up room in the basement of the studio and told me to be in the room directly above us at five to ten for my audition. After checking the requirements and warming up, I headed upstairs. I was about to audition for the Tonight Show, a moment that changed my life forever.

[Meg Boyd]

I wouldn't at all be surprised if this came true, my friend...

You are brillant

Don't let anyone tell you differently