Page 214 of 365: Free cookies (guest writer)



I asked my tumblr followers if any of them wanted to write a blog post for me because I’ve had a lot of messages from people telling me they want to write a blog and don’t know where to start – so I thought it would be cool if I could give them a chance to practise on my blog.

I only had one response but I’m so happy with the post I did get sent – it’s well written, it’s really funny and I think you’re really going to like it. 

Written by asstronautss on tumblr, here’s a moral about free cookies – enjoy!


I’m here to inform you that this blog is officially being taken over – for one day that is. If you’re feeling tentative to this fact then you have a couple of choices: a) check back tomorrow and you won’t have to ever even think about me again, or b) you read this and fall madly in love with me. Obviously.

I’ve thought long and hard about what I was going to write for this (meaning in 10 minutes I had half of some sort of idea) and I’ve decided to skip the first date material. We’re going to skip all the boring bits like “Hi, my name’s Isabella. I’m 16 and Norwegian-American. I draw and write when I have the motivation to do so but usually all my energy goes into talking about bands online that I swear I’m not actually obsessed with.” Instead, what better way to get to know me than to plunge in headfirst and hear one of my most embarrassing cringe-worthy moments to this date? Hopefully this will be somewhat entertaining and if it isn’t, well, now you’ve at least got some pretty stellar blackmail material on me.

The event that follows happened in my first year of middle school, and as we all know, middle school is the epitome of embarrassing moments. When I was 12 and just starting in a new grade with new people, classes and teachers, I somehow got it into my head that it would be a good idea to take part in the little drama club they had going. It wasn’t very big and it was led by a not so favorable teacher, but I was caught up in the idea that this was the year I would take charge and define who I was by joining clubs and taking action. It also didn’t hurt that there were free cookies offered. So not only did I join but I was able to convince my best friend to join as well, and I’m pretty sure she hated it. Peer pressure and its best. Skipping way forward past all the boring bits a few months to March, opening night to our little production in a day. After sitting in some corner yawning about how boring this club is almost every Wednesday after school with my best friend for months on end, I’m finally feeling the excitement. The fun little nervous jitters have begun. Only, to my dismay, those jitters are sent into overdrive when I’m told by our teacher that one of the students is sick and I’m to take her role. I want to emphasize the fact that the most effort I’d put into the production at this point was half-way paying attention in the classes while eating the cookies that were always set out and repeating my only 5 lines monotonously when told to. Suffice to say I’d certainly lost the initial enthusiasm I’d had, but giving me a random role the day before opening night was definitely not the way to spark it. I spent the entire afternoon and evening (meaning in reality probably only an hour) before the performance day rehearsing the scene I now had to perform with only one other person on stage consisting of a staggering 10 lines said by me. This was truly a big deat for me. Then, too soon, it had come to opening night. I hadn’t had much practice but I was feeling pretty confident, and by confident I mean I wasn’t completely shaking in my boots, I’d say I was shivering at most. Finally the time comes. Someone is there and reminds me it’s my queue to go on. Everything has gone smoothly so far and I was making it my goal not to screw everything up. I enter the stage. I’m pretty sure I look like a deer in the headlights as all my minimal previous acting knowledge goes straight out the window. All I’m focusing on are delivering the lines no matter if they are void of any emotion. I get halfway through when something goes wrong. The lights grow brights. The air is somehow warmer. I can feel all eyes directed at me. It’s far too quiet in the room. I swear I could feel my cheeks reddening. I forgot the lines. Now, this may not seem so terrible, it’s happened tons of times before to tons of people! What made this absolutely dreadful were the reactions from everyone. The pitiful look my co-actor gave me before he improvised and I was able to stumble through my last two lines was so obvious. Once I scurried off stage the first thing I remember seeing was a girl a few years older standing there gaping at me. If I was as much as a smartass then as I am now I’d tell her she looks like a cod fish, a beautiful term I first had the pleasure of hearing from my mother. I once again scurried (my new method of movement it seemed) away from her only to be confronted by my performing arts teacher, aka head of this club, aka self-proclaimed director, shaking his head in disappointment. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look so disappointed simply hunched over, head held up by one hand shaking slowly.

Truth be told, I doubt anyone but me remembers this, perhaps my co-actor. I think in reality it’s just me sitting her wallowing in my own cringe-y material… basically how I am on the daily.

And because every story needs a moral to be legit: the obvious moral is not to do anything just for free cookies. It’s not worth it.

Thank you so much Isabella for writing this for me! You should definitely start your own blog! You have a hilarious writing style.

Thank you for reading,

Sophie xx

That’s where you’ll find me:
Snapchat: @SophieALuckett

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