Hamburger Help Me

Daily Prompt: We Can Be Taught!

How do I blog about a moment when I truly learned something–when a parent, a teacher, a lover, a friend, taught me something? How do I stay away and guard myself from poster board images of the helping hand, Hamburger Helper, helping the homeless? Here is me and there is you. We are a Tale of Two Cities, although we’re closer than you may think. Sometimes I’m lost. Sometimes I’m confused. Sometimes that person is you. You are the wind beneath my wings…

I got nothing.

Advice? Better wait until my friend comes over. Maybe she’ll teach me something or blog for me.

Maybe I have something. Just you wait!

It’s fiction…

I got nothing.

How do I blog about my perfect 800 in writing on the SATs without sounding like a pompous ass? Well I did. Now you know it. It was because I worked hard and had a lot of people support me that I achieved this score. That morning–the morning I received my score, I knew I was a writer.

But you see, I don’t think that should be a teachable moment. I don’t think a score on a standardized test determines who you are and what you love and what you’re good at. Some people sleep halfway through it!

It took some blogging, some processing, to really come to terms with a teachable moment for me…the college decision!

There were two schools I was battling between. One was deemed more prestigious, I believe because of the area. People knew more about this particular college because it’s in my home state. The other, people around here hadn’t heard of quite so much, but it had, some believe, a better national reputation.

All my life I’ve been doing whatever is “more prestigious.” All my life I’ve been blinded by my resumé.

But not on that day. Not on the day I chose a school that seems to fit me. Here goes nothing:

“When you get out of the shower, wear the shirt of the school you’re going to attend,” my mother pleaded with me.

As a joke, I wore the shirt of the college that I would never attend. The one that made it to the final four but was at the bottom of the final four and was there-FOUR eliminated!

Mom, Dad, and I all got out sparkling champagne to toast to whichever road not taken I might take. I announced it too quickly, too suddenly, for it to even register.

But the worst part?

Clicking “enroll.”

Even after, I still wasn’t sure about it. “Mom, can I enroll in both colleges?”

The quickest “no” I had ever heard.

I’m still not sure if I’m going to the place that’s right for me. And I don’t know how the school I chose will change me or if I will change it. But I do know that sometimes…oftentimes, you gotta let go of the Asian Tiger Mom inside you. Sometimes you gotta do what’s best for you.

That was my Hamburger Helper clichéd poster. I hope you enjoy.

3 thoughts on “Hamburger Help Me

  1. the road of life is filled with speculation…………decision, decisions..
    ………………..did i do right did i choose the shoes this stock, that frock that rocks and most often,given the visicitudes, ……and the dynamic nature of things………………hey, everything works out……………sometimes a wrinkle is adjusted without a strain, sometims a major digression is navigated and a new direction emerges that is an improvement. reminds me of the time i flunked out of engineering school.
    i think you’ll agree that the perfect 800, while notable is only a reflection of what you did to achieve it………………, if you only received 292.0069,,you’re still who you are andnemerge that indomitable creature know as WHAT–A-GIRL.

  2. Pingback: ONE HOT MESS | hastywords

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