“Don’t pretend to know what you don’t.  You learn more.”

Age: 39
Postmark: Washington (state)
This week’s exercise: write about a time when you were PRETENDING.  As always, don’t worry about making any great point, just try to render a specific scene/memory as vividly as you can.  Take “pretending” any way you want…

45 responses to “”

  1. Larry Iaccio says:

    I seem to pretend a lot still even as a young adult, but it is a far cry from the pretending I would do in my youth. Now when I pretend it, it is more for the sake of fitting in or to not look like an idiot because I don’t know something. People ask me all the time if I have seen certain movies and I always feel uncultured or sheltered just because I never have. So me being me and wanting to keep conversation with these people, I pretend like I have seen the movie sometimes just to continue talking to that person and sharing their interests. I also catch myself pretending when I am presented with new and foreign things I have never experienced before. When I see something new, that I don’t understand, or that turns me off, I try to rationalize it in my brain and pretend there is a solid concrete reason I don’t like it rather than approach it with an open mind and give it a chance. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure how much pretending differs from lying, or just if that one is the adult form of the other, but I think most people do it all the same.

  2. Meghan Hall says:

    There was this guy I really liked and he was really into screamo music. I however, was not. In fact, I hated it. I did not understand why/how someone would want to listen to someone yelling at them through song. However, because I liked him, I “pretended” that, I too liked screamo music. I didn’t think anything of it until later on when he asked me my favorite screamo bands and what my favorite songs were. He could not believe that I was into screamo music, he said he never knew a girl who listened to it before which apparently made me awesome in his eyes… or something like that.

  3. Tess Drudy says:

    For me, the meaning of the word “pretending” changed as I grew up. When I was little, i pretended all the time. I put on a wig and pretended to my best friend’s little brother that my name was Amanda and I was his long lost sister that his parent’s didn’t know about. My little sister and I swung on our pipes in the basement pretending to be Tarzan and Jane. I put on pink fuzzy socks and pretended they were ice skates and my wood floor was a rink. I wore a jean jacket, sunglasses, and carried around a duffle bag pretending to be Lindsay Lohan from The Parent Trap. Pretending was innocent and fun until I hit Middle School. Then I started to pretend a little differently. I pretended that i liked gauchos because every girl wore them. I pretended that I had to go to the bathroom when my social studies teacher wouldn’t stop talking about ancient greece. I pretended that I didn’t wear makeup because my eyes were allergic rather than simply not being aloud. Pretending became about being something I wasn’t so that people would think better of me. Then pretending got more complicated. The more I pretended the harder it was to remember what was pretend and what was real. But as I grew even more I learned that pretending wasn’t worth it and being yourself is all that matters. (as cliche as it might sound) Now I just pretend to be sleeping when my dad calls to talk to me about the bank statement. 😛

  4. Krupa Khatri says:

    The rays beat down my large, floppy hat. Sinking into a reclining chair beside the murky pool, I inhaled the chlorine-scented air and relaxed. I finally found some privacy. Despite my usual fear and disgust for swimming pools, the cool water seemed inviting on that hot, summer day. I walked towards the edge of the pool and looked at my reflection. My sunglasses almost slipped off the bridge of my nose as I stared at my pink and polka-dotted bathing suit. The color illuminated the blue-green water. I dipped my toe in the water, making small waves. I shivered. No swimming for me, I thought to myself. I returned to my seat, rested my head, and reviewed my hectic schedule. The following day was reserved for meeting filmmakers, planning the details of my next movie. After that, I had to prepare for an interview for one magazine and a photo-shoot for another. I was very busy and in deep-thought until I heard my name. I froze, hoping I wouldn’t be seen. A high-pitched voice called my name repeatedly. I tried to hide but failed. The paparazzi found me. I clearly repeated over and over: no cameras, please. I stood dramatically with my hand on my forehead. So much for privacy.

    “Oh Krupa, don’t be such a diva! You’re only five years old!” My mom laughed as she tried to take a decent picture. I frowned and look at her expectantly.

    “Fine,” She sighed. Masking her amused expression, she said suddenly: “Strike a pose, Krupa!”

    I smiled. The cameras love me.

    When I was young, I always preferred playing pretend to playing boardgames. It was weird, creative, and adventurous. I have sailed across oceans, fought powerful villains, and even became an esteemed movie star all before I was nine years old. I could be anybody, anywhere; the less realistic the better.

  5. Oishika Vaid says:

    No Kid likes to study! That, my friends, is a universal fact. As an 8th grader, a child has a lot to do, assignments to complete, group project meeting to attend and enjoying life. Yes! you read correctly! enjoying life… Something every child enjoys doing. For me, procrastinating by reading Garfield comics was “enjoying life”.

    It was a week before our 8th grade final exams, and like all other mothers my mom was pestering me to study. My otherwise beautiful and colorful room seemed like prison during this time. My mom used to put me in my room and made sure that I did not leave the borders of that room unless it is breakfast, lunch or dinner time. But there are many things in my room that my mom was not aware of – video games, comic books and best of all my GARFIELD comic books.

    My mom used to check in on me every 2 hours to ensure that I was studying. At times she even used to check in on me 3 – 4 times every 2 hours. Thus making her surprise appearance very unpredictable. This unpredictability made sure that I dot sleep during this time. So sleeping was not an option. I used to put my garfield comic book under my school’s text book, so that incase my mom entered she’d think I was studying.

    This went on for 3 days that week. On the 4th day of the week, my mom decided to take a “pop quiz” on everything I had “studied” so far.

    Yes! She picked up my text book and opened the book to find a Garfield comic book stuck in between. She caught me pretending to study. That day I felt extremely guilty as my mom decided that trying to make me get an A in the exam was pointless, as I did not study. Since then she never put me in the room to study however, the guilt I faced made me realize that she was doing that for my own good. Therefore, since then, till today, I study on my own. Without any pestering. And this makes me mom feel proud of me, thus making me feel better about myself too.

  6. Andrew Chau says:

    When I was younger, my first immediate reaction to anything that I didn’t know was by pretending that I did. As a child, the one thing that I feared above all else was coming across as unintelligent because I thought that it would alienate me from everyone else. All of those fake conversations would consist of me nodding and saying “I completely agree with you” or paraphrasing what he/she had previously said.
    In fourth grade, I had made a group of friends since we religiously watched the cartoon show Pokemon . The only problem with that for me was that I had never seen an episode of Pokemon before, due to the fact that I had to study for at least 2 hours a night as a child. Initially, it was easy enough to pretend that I knew everything about Pokemon as everyone in my school talked about it and I would recite what I had heard. As time went on, it became harder and harder to pretend. The rest of the school would grow tired of Pokemon and move onto the latest television show. However, the group would only talk about one topic, Pokemon. The fact that no one outside of the group cared for Pokemon anymore, had made it harder for me to pick up any bit of new information. One day, I was asked for my opinion about the latest episode. I replied with the typical “It was great as always”. However, they wanted specific information and I didn’t have any. I couldn’t lie anymore so I told the truth. Everyone was surprised and furious at the truth. I was met with the verbal fury of fourth graders; I was hit with every bad word that a fourth grader would know. Eventually after half an hour, every single one of them had walked off without saying another word. After that incident, I was “removed” from the group. That event had taught me the important lesson that pretending is a bad thing, unless you are great at maintaining that façade.
    Nowadays, the act of pretending is pointless for me. Rather than pretending that I have knowledge that I don’t, now I just say “This conversation is pointless and you made me less intelligent for having to listen it”. It ends topics that I have no idea about and I would not have to pretend that I knew what they were talking about.

  7. Richard Chen says:

    During the summer before senior year, I wanted to do something different other than “hanging out” at the mall and watching movies. I wanted to do something relatively cheap and extremely exciting. I was also nostalgiac of my days in elementary school where I played tag with my friends, sprinting after them around the playground like a rampant bull. I finally found the perfect amalgam of all those attributes in the game where I pretended to be a secret a soldier – the game I like to call “Airsoft”.

    So that summer my friends and I went back to my elementary school playground, armed with “Made in China” BB gun replicas. The weapons we wielded were realistic – painted a harsh black like the real firearms – except for the cheap plastic feel. I felt a little scared, since these BB guns could be mistaken as real ones. Putting aside our fears, we made rules for the game. One team was labelled “the good guys”, and one team was obviously “the bad guys”. I was with “the good guys”, and we set up our bases at two playgrounds, separated by a field. When the games began, my heart seem to pump adrenaline instead of blood. I pretended to be a soldier, scouting the terrain for hostiles to eliminate. My mind was pretending, but my body was not. My whole body was excited and nervous. I could feel the hairs on my neck stand up and the sweat starting to seep out of my skin. I didn’t want to get hit – I didn’t want to die.

    I shuffled behind the brick wall of Martin Luther King Elementary School, staying as close as possible to the myriad of bricks as if they kept me alive. In this game, it did. If the enemies saw me, I would compromise the whole mission. I assumed the pose of an elite soldier, mimicking the ways they held their guns – looking directly through the gun’s sights to focus on a potential enemy. I heard the opposition coming. Footsteps could be heard a few feet away, separated from a brick wall. The footsteps slowed, and complete silence followed. A standoff. As I pretended to be the super soldier destined to save the world, I rushed forward, gun gripped tight – confronting my enemy and tapping two pellets into his chest. I dashed ahead, rushing towards the enemy’s base while simultaneously avoiding enemy fire. Bullets whizzed past my ears, slicing the side of my head with a shocking jet of air. As I ran, wood chips of the playground danced around me. I fired in response. I missed. I fired again. Direct hit. The mission was complete, and the serious, competitive spirit left my body. I laughed. My friends smiled. After a quick water break, we switched sides. No longer did I pretend to be a defender of good, but instead a supporter of evil. Then the real fun began.

  8. Kevin Bernstein says:

    I remember when I was little i would always get lost in movies. No matter what type wether it was comedy, romance, thriller you name it and I watched it. I feel as though movies taught me a lot in the aspect of feeling. The sounds, images, and passion all in each movie really inspired me. I would watch Greece and think I lived in the 1970’s. I would watch Spiderman and that any normal person could obtain super hero power’s. In 2002 when the first Spiderman movie came out I was in awe. I was 10 years old and more into being a super hero than ever. I saw the movie and really believed when i got older I was going to be bitten by a rare spider that would transform me. I used to envision myself running and jumping from roof top to roof top when I would be driving in downtown Philly. I would think of different situations where people would be trapped and needed help. I would even draw thousands of superhero costume ideas that i kept in a notebook by my bed. And of course every year what was I for halloween? The feeling I felt when I would watch that movie was unreal. I can’t even explain how or what it was like. I think thats the reason I still love movies so much to this day. They can give you that indescribable feeling that makes you feel so unnormal. Like your not yourself but better. The feeling is like a high and it only lasts a little then it fades. Thats why I continue to watch movies, to get that high back. Spiderman, especially when I was 10 really made me pretend or believe I was superhero sworn to protect and serve.

  9. Brandon Katz says:

    I could barely concentrate with all of the commotion. Shrill screams and blaring sirens; a dull, bored computer infinitely repeating, “Red Alert, Red Alert.” I could not for the life of me focus on my pivotal work. Hell, I could not even start.
    I quickly ducked as out of the corner of my eye I saw a fighter about to smash into my window, as if ducking would help, but it pulled up at the last millisecond, missing my helpless body by mere inches. At that point, I lost my train of thought completely.
    I noticed my history teacher looking at me funny as I made my pencil roll out of the way of the mother-ship: my huge eraser. I sheepishly looked back at my untouched midterm and grasped my pencil the correct way.
    But then the alarm bells started going off again. “Red Alert, Red Alert, Red Alert.” The sweat was trickling down my neck, arms, and back. I tapped a few commands into the terminal on my desk and the alert instantly stopped. I knew I was not supposed to do that, after all, the situation was dire. The ship was getting attacked from all sides – ships and words interspersed; Missiles and blobs of ink slamming into the hull.
    I knew the whole disaster would be over within 25 minutes. The clock was ticking, and ticking fast. I started typing out my program, scribbling my words. The vice kept tightening, the pressure building. I was only half finished with only one quarter of the time left.
    The bubble burst. The hull was penetrated and the oxygen was forced out of my ship, time was up. My body floated lifelessly in space as I handed my essay to my teacher.
    “Oh well” I thought, maybe I’ll save the world in time next chance I get.

  10. Emily Moyer says:

    Every time I listen to Counting Crows songs, two characters always catch my attention: Maria and Mary Jane. Two opposite yet beautiful people that may or may not be real but I always imagine what they would be like if they were to meet. I’ve always pretended I was Mary Jane. I want to be her but in reality I am much more like Maria. I always pretended that this is what it would be like if they met:

    It’s late. I run my hands through my feathered raven hair and listen to the waves crash upon the shore. The moon is bright and I’m alone. It’s a cloudless night where the stars shine as I gently drag my feet through the sand. One in front of the other. Delicate, right on the edge of where the ocean meets the land. I hum a sad tune to myself as I walk the tight rope.

    “What are you doing?” She giggles. It’s Mary.

    Mary Jane is always smiling. I used to think she didn’t know what it’s like to be sad, but maybe she does and she just chooses not to care anymore. I can never tell. She’s sinking in her own beauty. Her blonde hair shimmers in the moonlight and her lips are red. So very red.

    “I’m dying.” I tell her and stare off into the sea.

    “Don’t be silly, Maria.” She says and twirls about. Her white dress puffs out around her thin legs. She stops spinning and dizzily looks at me with those blue eyes of hers.

    “Can’t you see we’re standing on the precipice of the big time? You just wait.”

    She has child-like wonderment that irritates me.

    “I’m on the precipice of something but it ain’t the big time.” I tell her. I stare off into the distance where the high cliffs spring up like buildings from the raging ocean.

    She looks at me confused. I sigh.

    “I wouldn’t expect you to understand Mary just go away.” I turn my attention to the sea again.

    I take a deep breath of the salty air and gently sit on the beach, carefully tucking my black dress beneath me. Curling my toes and digging them into the cool sand wrapping my arms around my knees, hugging them to my chest.

  11. Emily Moyer says:

    Every time I listen to Counting Crows songs, two characters always catch my attention: Maria and Mary Jane. Two opposite yet beautiful people that may or may not be real but I always imagine what they would be like if they were to meet. I’ve always pretended I was Mary Jane. I want to be her but in reality I am much more like Maria. I always pretended that this is what it would be like if they met:

    It’s late. I run my hands through my feathered raven hair and listen to the waves crash upon the shore. The moon is bright and I’m alone. It’s a cloudless night where the stars shine as I gently drag my feet through the sand. One in front of the other. Delicate, right on the edge of where the ocean meets the land. I hum a sad tune to myself as I walk the tight rope.

    “What are you doing?” She giggles. It’s Mary.

    Mary Jane is always smiling. I used to think she didn’t know what it’s like to be sad, but maybe she does and she just chooses not to care anymore. I can never tell. She’s sinking in her own beauty. Her blonde hair shimmers in the moonlight and her lips are red. So very red.

    “I’m dying.” I tell her and stare off into the sea.

    “Don’t be silly, Maria.” She says and twirls about. Her white dress puffs out around her thin legs. She stops spinning and dizzily looks at me with those blue eyes of hers.

    “Can’t you see we’re standing on the precipice of the big time? You just wait.”

    She has child-like wonderment that irritates me.

    “I’m on the precipice of something but it ain’t the big time.” I tell her. I stare off into the distance where the high cliffs spring up like buildings from the raging ocean.

    She looks at me confused. I sigh.

    “I wouldn’t expect you to understand Mary just go away.” I turn my attention to the sea again.

    I take a deep breath of the salty air and gently sit on the beach, carefully tucking my black dress beneath me. Curling my toes and digging them into the cool sand wrapping my arms around my knees, hugging them to my chest.

  12. Molly Driscoll says:

    When I was younger I used to love to play games that I made up or that involved me pretending I was someone else. Playing house was always my favorite, typical, but it was. Now that I look back I’m really not sure why I loved it so much. I used to always go and play with the girl next door. She was a bit bossy and controlling. We always had to play what she wanted when she wanted to.
    I remember this one particular time I went over to her house. That’s another thing we always had to play at her house. She had one of those play kitchens that I loved, but I never had one. So, we would always play house. I would always get excited to play house and play with the kitchen. I wanted to be the mom, pretend I was a mom. I never got to be the mom. Controlling Lauren always got to be the mom and use the kitchen and hold the baby dolls that were her “children”. Whenever we would start to play she would say “I’m the mom!” and I would just reply with “What do I get to be then?”. Her response was either “You can be the aunt” or “You can be the dog”. Neither involved playing and pretending I was cooking in the kitchen. Whenever I would ask if I could be the mom, it was obviously a ridiculous question. Lauren was always the mom. I don’t know why I loved pretending to be the aunt or the dog when I wanted to pretend to be the mom. But, I guess I just loved pretending while I played. Pretending gives people the chance to be someone else, to let their imagination take control. I’m glad I liked to pretend, I think it builds character in a person.

  13. Kelley Hey says:

    When I was little I used to “play pretend” all of the time. I love pretending to be in different situations and pretending to be different people. A lot of the time I would pretend to be an actress. I would run around my house pretending to be in different movies playing different roles. When I was younger, every time an award show was on TV, I would get dressed up, put on some make up, and pretend that I was attending. I would pretend I was on the red carpet and my mom would play along too by pretending she was the paparazzi by taking my picture. Growing up with two older brothers always made “playing pretend” interesting. I remember my one brother and I would play James Bond a lot. He was James Bond and I was one of his secret agents. We would pretend we were on spy missions and we would pretend that my stuffed animals were the villains we had to defeat. Another pretend game my brothers and I played a lot was “pirates”. My brothers took one side of the room, which was their “ship” and I had my side of the room, which was my “ship”. We would throw my stuffed animals across the room, which were the “bombs” to try to hit each other’s “ships”. I can’t remember exactly what determined who won the game but it was really fun to play. A lot of these “pretend games” sound funny now, but they were really a blast to play and really made my childhood special.

  14. Luckym Dinh says:

    One time I picked up my friend Connie’s phone when our friend Nadine called. I pretended to be Connie and Nadine actually fell for it. I did not even sound like Connie. Nadine was too busy telling her serious story that she didn’t realize she was talking to me. Once she finished telling her story, I couldn’t hold in my laughter any longer so I told her she was talking to me the whole time. She was really shocked and she said she was mad at me but eventually she laughed it off because it was a good joke.

  15. Giovanni Adiletta says:

    On April fools day in 8th grade I pretended to be my twin brother. We had never switched classes before, but we had always wanted to. We planned to pretend to be each other for the last period of the day, I had chorus and he had gym. This was an awesome trade for me because I liked gym a lot more than chorus. The gym teacher knew my brother and I well enough to tell us apart so I was trying to keep my distance from him if I could. It was fun though because my friends in my brother’s gym class were helping me hide from the teacher and during laps I ran by the gym teacher about 90 times and he still didn’t notice! So at the end of class I decided to just tell the teacher that I switched with my brother, so I did and he thought it was funny but told me not to do it again. But what happened in my chorus class with my brother was even funnier. The chorus teacher could not figure out the difference between my brother and I even though we had known her for about 2 years. While my brother was in my class she called him Antonio by accident and didn’t take it back, which freaked him out because he thought she figured it out. But what actually happened was she mixed my brother and I up and thought I was Antonio, but it actually was Antonio because we had switched classes. It was a pretty funny experience and I feel that my duty to switch classes with my twin has been fulfilled haha.

  16. Patrick Carvalho says:

    Pretending is a thing that can been seen as something negative when a person is being what they aren’t, but it can also be a positive release from reality. When a person is being fake it can get very obnoxious since for the most part it is easy to tell when someone is lying. However, if it is a child pretending it is a great way to express their imagination and a very healthy thing to do. There is a certain memory in my life where I was pretending, and it is one of my funnest memories. Growing up with two older brothers it was no surprise I was exposed to the WWE at a very young age. The WWE was something we would watch because it was very entertaining, because who doesn’t like seeing two people trying to kill each other in a ring. Being exposed to the professional wrestling made our imaginations begin to kick in and my brothers, cousins, and I would pretend as though we were professional wrestlers. This was a very regular event when we would get together, and we took it very seriously. We would lay pillows down on the carpet to add a little extra cushion to ease the pain of being slammed on the ground. We would even jump off of couches on top of one another as if they were the ropes of the wrestling ring. Things would get intense and even though we were only 7 or 8 years old things would get heated. It is amazing that no injuries besides the occasional scrape or cut occurred. In this case we had a very healthy way of pretending which allowed us to express our imagination, and even get a little exercise since we would be running around for hours. This is one of my best memories of pretending, and sometimes I miss roughing each other up especially when I am annoyed with either of my brothers or cousins.

  17. Lilly Kuriakose says:

    I remember this one time when I was about seven years old I had to do a play for Christmas at my church. We were doing the story of the birth of Jesus. So I had the role of the angel where I had to pretend I could fly and do so many magical things. It was really fun and the best memory of it was when I was on stage and my wings fell off. At first I was so mad because I was scared everyone would laugh and make fun of me. But no one really laughed and I simply pretended nothing happened and put my wings back on. Even though I got mad I was still happy I got the role of the angel because I pretended like I could fly which was the best part of that day.

  18. Anonymous says:

    Evan Ostrow said…

    To me, pretending, is something to be associated with childhood. Pretending is drawing a picture and acting like it comes alive. Pretending is narrating the quests of my toy knights as they go around the house and fight other toys and sometimes kitchen appliances, in order to complete there mission. But in this case we come to a setting very familiar, but far off in my imagination.
    To the casual viewer my family room was a wreck. Blankets were torn of the stand and scattered across the couches and table. In this room were two couches perpendicular to each other to form and ‘L’ shape around a square wooden table. The table smooth curved legs, with came up to dangerously sharp corners, and in the center of the table were four glass panels. With this furniture and the blankets i had created my underground fortress. Blankets stretched across the space between, couch and table, and at the corner also went back to the exercise bike in the corner of the room, to provide a back door. Army crawling through my tunnels, I easily avoided the sight of the evil tyrants, my parents, and made it to my armory and lookout post – under the table. Grabbing my rubber band gun that had been strapped to the bottom of the table, I waited, getting tenser as the tyrants’ footsteps approached. Peering through the glass porthole, i lifted up the glass slightly poking my barrel out the crack. CLICK. CLICK. CLICK. Three rounds struck the larger one, but he was not hurt by this, merely enraged. Quickly crawling toward the back exit, the roof began to cave. I was under siege. Reaching the exit just in time, i raced through the soft fields of carpet, and up the mountainous stairway, until finally i dove into my mountain bunker and locked the door behind me. Disaster Averted!

  19. Andy Wells says:

    This advice is quite relevant to my personality. It’s not that I pretend to know something academic that I don’t know. Or that I make stuff up and act like I know it to be fact. Where I find myself getting into trouble is pretending to know seemingly insignificant tidbits of information. When they end up being significant, I pay the price. For instance, someone might ask me if I am familiar with a certain band. In order to keep the conversation flowing, I’ll give a quick nod. I’m not trying to create the illusion that I know more than I actually do. It’s more a product of not wanting to deal with the hassle of having to be filled in on details. Minutes later, I am asked what my favorite song by that band is. And all of the sudden I am in a bad place. I can’t answer the question, but it’s too late to admit that I can’t answer it without being awkward. Not a huge deal, but certainly an avoidable situation.

    The worst of these situations came up a few years ago. One night, I was going to pick up a friend from his house. It was only the second time I had ever been there, and it had been over a year since the first. He knew this, and asked me if I needed directions. Foolishly, I declined. I knew the general vicinity of his house; in fact, I knew the location to within a few houses. But even though I knew it could be tough to find the exact house, I figured it would somehow be easier to find it myself than to have him tell me. Of course, I was wrong. I arrived at the neighborhood and immediately knew I had little shot of finding it on my own. I was already five minutes late, and I didn’t need to add to that. Panicking, I drove around in circles desperately looking at houses and hoping to see something I recognized. I didn’t want to call my friend because I would have to admit that I never knew where to go. It turned into a matter of pride. In retrospect, I should have called him right away. But I didn’t. I called another friend who knew where the house was, explained the situation, and attempted to receive directions over the phone. It didn’t work. By the time I cut my losses and finally called my friend, I was 20 minutes late to his house. He laughed at me. To this day, he still brings it up.

  20. Lindsey Cohen says:

    After I seemingly never ending day, Lindsey drifted in off into a _____. She abruptly jumped up and noticed that it was 11 AM the next day. She glanced over at her phone and the date read October 13th, 2011, which was 6 weeks earlier. She stared at the phone in confusion for a good 10 minutes. Even though she was confused at what was going on, she knew she had to get on with her day and pretend like it was still November 17, 2011. She knew it was almost week 4, which meant a long gruesome week of exams. She went on with her day, occasionally cringing when she thought about how miserable her weekend was going to be. She knew she could either a) stay up a little bit later every night this week and get a head start on studying or b) wait until this weekend to cram everything in. She knew the best option was option A, of course, but was that a realistic goal? Probably not! Lindsey knew that in the past she always had struggled with time management. Even when she had the extra time to get ahead, she chose to do something that she believed to be more productive. She was the procrastination queen. By the end of the fall term, she had learned that there is no harm in getting your work done early and of course she learned for those mistakes she made. Now, 6 weeks earlier, she had the chance to do everything over again, which is a dream come true for almost anyone. Instead of wasting her extra time doing unnecessary things, she decided to go to the library and get a head start on studying. It turned out that this was one the best decisions she had ever made in her life thus far. When the weekend came around, she had all the free time in the world. She decided to actually learn the information and not cram the night before. Lindsey went home feeling like she was on top of the world. At 2 A.M. on Thursday night she finally went to sleep. She drifted off into a deep sleep. And then it happened. The shrill sound of the alarm penetrated her brain. She slightly opened her eyes to look at her phone and screamed, “Oh my god, I missed my class.”

  21. Nima Karvar says:

    Especially for this Thanksgiving break, I’ve had to pretend on a lot of things. One thing that I kept pretending was how interesting I thought all of my relative’s stories were. After a tiring run at college life, I was forced to come back to my hometown, smothered with people constantly nagging me about how college is, and how I am doing. They give me tons of advice that I could, honestly, care less about. The bothersome stories of pointless tips and advice can not possibly change me were being told to me, one after another. It was unbearable to take it anymore. However, I had to pretend like I actually cared about all the advice they gave me. It was a fun Thanksgiving, but I want my family to know that a simple talk cannot change me. But I want them to be happy, so I have to pretend like I care about what they are talking about.

  22. Ray Seibert says:

    Pretending is something I have been doing all my life, in one form or another. In elementary school it was acting in summer productions, or playing pretend games with my friends. But in middle school and high school, pretending toook on a different meaning for me. Every time someone asked about girls, I had to ignore them, or give a pretend answer,all the time ppretending that I was like everybody else, while inside, I knew I was different. To hide something that big, hurts so much, it weighs down on you like a boulder (excuse the cliche), and yoou feel alone even in a school cafeteria. The day I could stop pretending was the happiest of my life, and I miss none of those awkward conversations, nor hiding my true self.

  23. Miguel Martinez says:

    Pretending comprised a large portion of my life when I was little. In the fall of my fifth grade we got new neighbors. These neighbors had kids around my age who would play pretend with me and my brother every day we could. Our favorite play pretend game to play was Harry Potter. We would use our parents brooms and pretend to fly on them and sticks are wands to cast our imaginary spells. Each of us would also play different characters or roles. We would also attempt british accents but I’m pretty sure we failed miserably at them. We played until the sun went down which soon after would be followed by our parents telling us to come in since it was dark. These are fond memories but it is sad to think that my imagination alone was all I needed in those days to keep myself entertained.

  24. Shilpa Shegu says:

    I feel as though we’re always pretending to be someone we’re not. We’re always putting these masks on our faces when we’re around different groups of people. However, there are those imaginary times when we pretend to be something completely different. There was this one time when I pretended to be a tiger in a dance. I was dressed up in all orange/black paint with ears and a tail. I had to growl and do all these catty gestures. It was awkward yet fun at the same time. It’s hard to put yourself in someone else’s shoes or in my case paws.

  25. Siya Brown says:

    I love pretending because I love to act. My favorite acting exercise is called improvisational acting. You can do it by yourself or with others and you are given a character trait or a scenario and you make up an entire scene on the spot. They can be serious or extremely silly. I love the funny ones. I also enjoy on stage ‘pretending’. In my senior year of high school we put on a play called West Side Story and I was cast as Anita. I was one of the leads and I had to pretend that I was a latina woman who was madly in love with her boyfriend Bernardo. She was cute and sassy and she made a lot of jokes so I really got into it. The main character Maria was my sister in law and she was marrying a boy from the other side of town. One of the most challenging parts was pretending to get beat up in one scene and then becoming so angry that I had to make myself cry on stage and storm out of a door that wasn’t really there. Pretending is such fun!

  26. Charlotte Bader says:

    When I was young, I was not a big pretender. I knew what was real life and what was not. I never liked to play house or pretend to be an animal or other things kids liked to pretend. My older sister on the other hand, was the complete opposite. For two years her alter ego was Nala from the lion king. At first it was funny and my family encouraged it but after a while she started to get way too into it and eventually she was walking on all fours and licking water out of the pool. My parents convinced her to stop and the day finally came when she realized she was only pretending and she was in fact not a lioness.

  27. Nick Gangi says:

    In my life, I don’t really try to pretend that much. I tend to think about reality and deal with what reality brings. There is one thing that I do pretend to do quite a lot. I often find myself part of a conversation that I am not really interested in or a conversation that I could care less about. A lot of the time, I don’t like making people feel bad or feel stupid for telling me something. When this happens, I usually pretend to be interested, or laugh at something that was intended to be funny, even if I don’t really find it to my interest or humorous. There is one specific memory I have from pretending to be interested in a conversation in my recent pass. A few weeks ago I was talking to my track coach here at Drexel. I really was not paying attention nor did I have any idea what he was talking about. All I remember was nodding my head as he was talking and every time he smiled or laughed, I either smiled or chuckled back. This went on for a while until I was finally able to leave. Although I still have no idea what happened in the conversation, my ability to pretend that I was engaged in conversation allowed me to successfully evade the conversation.

  28. Conor McGuckin says:

    The act of pretending opens the door to imagination. There is a time and place for pretending, and in certain situations pretending can hold you back. But it opens the mind to creativity and new ideas, and separates humans from robots. When jamming with my brother, I pretend that whatever bass groove he plays corresponds to a certain color, theme, vision, any scenic representation. By pretending each chord change has an emotion, writing drum parts comes natural as migration does with the change of seasons.

  29. Emily Croke says:

    I honestly am having a hard time thinking of a time I was pretending, I guess I would say when I was captain my senior year. Being captain for lacrosse was easy because I had learned during field hockey season that being a leader to a bunch of girls I did not care for was difficult. The main players, the girls who did not respect the captain were extremely hard to get along with. Spending hours on end with these girls and wanted to just flip out on them was really hard not to do. However as a leader I had to pretend, for the betterment of the team, that nothing was wrong, that nothing bothered me. I also did not agree with the coaches methods, for she based her decisions purely off of her favorite players wants rather then what was best for the team and that honestly bothered me, however i could not show it in front of the team. I was constantly pretending that I was unbothered and fine with the tension on the team. As a leader I kept my mouth shut and led the team to a successful season.

  30. Holly Osifat says:

    There’s a lot of instances where I’ve pretended before but the most common time i pretend is when i’m pretending to be okay. If something is bothering me i have my best friends to go to but there’s been times when I’ve been really upset and on the verge of tears and I just pretend I’m okay because I don’t want to cause a scene. One time this happened was last year on a Friday night while I was working. I’m a hostess and my friend’s Dad and step mom came in for dinner. While they were waiting for a table my friend’s dad showed me a picture of what happened to my friend that I knew nothing about. He broke his collar bone and had to get 25 staples. The picture was bloody and scary to look at. I had to pretend to be okay as i was fighting back tears after seeing that picture.

  31. Anonymous says:

    tyler said:
    I can honestly say that I’m not a pretender, nor have I ever been one. I’m a simple person that takes things at face value and I act how I feel. If I’m mad, I’m mad, happy and I’m happy etc. The only instance where I can remember pretending was when I pretended to know what I was doing when I painted my friend’s living room for her. I chuckle as I write this, she had no idea that I had never painted a wall in my life. So as I was finishing up the final wall, she walked into the room and I told her about my lack of painting experience. The wall turned out fine, we had a good laugh about it, and by pretending I actually did learn something new.

  32. Anonymous says:

    I have pretended, a lot. Partly because I act so I have to pretend other time it can be for a range of things, i will pretend i’m enjoying conversational with my parents co-workers, or pretend I’m okay, or if i’m working with technology I will pretend that I know what I’m doing. I try not to pretend with people, I don’t want to come off as fake or in-genuine to others. When i was younger I loved pretending, if something was bothering me I could pretends i was the type of person that could handle it. When my cousins stuffed in a box I pretended i was an animal being taken to a foreign land. Pretending is one of those weird things, that I’m not quite sure is psychologically a smart choice, part of me feels that one should never have to fake what there feeling but the other part of me say maybe we need to pretend, just for a little, so we can be in a place where we know the outcome before facing reality.
    One time when I was really young probably about 5, my mom and I went to visit my aunt Hope and her children with my cousin tahirah. Tahirah even though shes only 2 months younger than me like to think that she is the boss of me and can tell me what to do. She is probably the most determined head strong person I have ever met, which is saying a lot because I come froma very determinded family. Tahirah always said that she wasn’t afraid of anything that she could do whatever whenever because she was that cool. My aunt hope had just gotten a new neighbor that had a dog. tahirah apparently is deathly afraid of dogs, so when he started jumping on her tahirah nearly had a conniption. Now I’m no the biggest fan of dogs either, so normally I would have run into the house and called it a day. But instead i pretended i wasn’t scared and started to chastise the dog for attacking my cousin
    bisa

  33. Darian says:

    When I walk between classes I pretend. I think that there is a lot to be said about the way that people walk. You can tell if someone is confident or shy or playful by the way their feet follow each other. So, when I walk I turn an empowering song and pretend I’m the most confident person in the world. Usually I’m pretending I’m adele and listing to “Rumor Has It”, but some times I’ll be listing to “Suavemente” and acting like I’m on the streets of Spain. If nothing else, it makes my walks home exciting.

  34. Edric Garcia says:

    It was late. Stress and constant work had got me cornered in the lounge on the second floor of Myers hall. I never once lifted my eyes from the computer as I furiously typed out paragraph after paragraph. Finally, I was done. I stood up and walked to the beginning of a long narrow hallway. I saw a mixed paper recycle bin with cardboard box a little bigger than me head. “Hey, Edric.” Said one of my friends, making me jump a bit from surprise. I looked at him without any response, and before he could ponder my curious behavior, I grabbed his arm and clamped the cardboard box onto my head with the other hand. “Get down!” I yelled as I sent us both plummeting to the ground behind some couches, bombs were destroying the ground around us and shrapnel was raining down from the heavens.”Where’s your platoon!” I yelled through the cacophonous symphony of gunfire and explosions. At that very moment, a stray metallic slug burst through the one barrier separating us from the endless destruction that was war. “ARGH! I’m hit!” My fellow soldier cried, he need not speak for the blood covered my eyes. “Hold on! I am not going to let you die.” I replied as I dragged him to better cover. The enemy was slowly closing in on our position, I propped up my wounded companion against a dry splintered wall. It seemed like decades were passing as I reloaded my rifle, the sun was setting lazily in the distance. I looked at my comrade and could see the light leave his eyes as his head fell limp over his punctured chest. This through me into a rage that my body had never experienced before. I clenched my rifle tight and my teeth tighter as I turned the corner of my small barricade, unleashing hell on the enemy that swarmed. One, two, three bullets find home in my chest, excruciating pain ripped my flesh. I could barely see through the blur of adrenaline that coated my eyes. Soon, I was on my back, all my sensation was gone. My eyes slowly closed as I accepted the sweet slumber that would provide me with eternal relaxation. “Hahaha, that was great man.” came a voice from over my head. I opened my eyes to see my friends standing over me, hand stretched out and a wide grin spanning his entire face.“This is what goes through my head most of the time.” I replied. I accepted his hand and we walked back to our rooms laughing and talking of our admirable adventure.

  35. Liesl Blum says:

    Over the past few years and when I’m home I babysit for twin girls who are 5 years old. One of their favorite things to do is play pretend, mostly Goldilocks and the three bears (even though there can only be two bears since there are three of us. We take turns being Goldilocks and the other two are bears. Goldilocks waits in the other room while the two bears make the porridge then decide it is too hot and they should go on a walk. The two bears take a lap around the house then return back to the living room where they find Goldilocks “sleeping” on the couch. Its a simple little game of pretend but they love this game so much and will play for hours if they can. It’s amazing how much fun using your imagination can be.

  36. Amanda Plaksin says:

    I pretend all the time; I’d rather live in a fantasy world than in the real world a lot of the time. When I lay down at night I sit in the dark with my music playing, and imagine whole scenes that match the songs. I pretend I’m somewhere completely different than laying in my bed. I can be anywhere in the world, with anyone; and then I fall into dreams and pretend even more.

  37. Tracey Young says:

    I play pretend with myself all the time. It’s a trick that numerous people use to avoid waking up in the morning. To try to counteract this, I set from 6-10 alarms a day, 15 minutes apart, each with 3 5-minute snoozes. I need to set my alarms at least 2 hours early in order for me to wake up on time, otherwise I merely look at my alarm groggily and go back to sleep.

    Each time my alarms go off, I pretend that I’ll wake up in a moment, that I’m just closing my eyes for a few more seconds, even though I know it’s not true, and that I’ll just end up sleeping more. Despite my awareness that I’m just telling myself a lie, I continue to pretend that I have the willpower to force myself to wake up and leave my warm, comfy blanket nest. It’s usually a nice game of pretend except for when I oversleep and end up late to class, and sometimes it’s even funny after I’ve woken up, like when a roommate told me after I woke up that I’d been hitting the snooze button for three hours straight and still hadn’t woken up.

  38. Spencer Reid says:

    Pretending can be looked at in many different ways. The meaning has evolved as I have gotten older. When I was a kid it meant something like dressing up for Halloween. As a teenager though it meant joking or messing around like when you would play a prank on your friend. Now as a young adult I see pretending as more of a negative thing associated with society and people. In our society people pretend to be things they are not and put on an invisibile mask when walking out of their houses everyday. Thus, allowing a world full of pretenders

  39. Everyone tries to impress others as you meet new people. I know especially when I was definitely not myself was. Coming to Drexel meeting so many new people I tried to be someone who I was not. I tried to tell myself that it was just a small white lie and with that lie it grew and grew like an avalanche it started small and then grew and grew, until I had to stop and think who is this person? Who am I? then I began to see the people around me and I didn’t like what I saw. I didn’t like what I had become. I had to remake myself my real self this time. I did and now am happier than ever. I don’t care what others think of me because I can be me and my friends will accept me for who I am. It was like having a caterpillar come out of its cocoon and blossom into a beautiful butterfly. I was a new person and confident and bold. I am now at piece with me and my personality.

  40. Marcus Richardson says:

    Who didn’t play pretend as a kid? Growing up on a military base for most of my life, a popular act among us kids was to play war. We would search for sticks large and small and pretend they were weapons. The smaller sticks represented pistols, medium sized sticks represented anything from an assault rifle to a machine gun and large logs represented the ever elusive bazooka. We always fought over who got to carry the bazooka around just because we wanted to ‘blow things up’. As other people stated, pretending takes on a whole different meaning as we begin to grow up.
    I remember one instance in particular when i was pretending. The summer before seventh, a new family moved into the house next to us and had three kids, one of which was my age. We instantly became great friends and hung out nonstop. Fast forward a month or two to the first day of seventh grade. A group of us guys were sitting at the lunch table laughing and joking and my neighbor approached the table to sit with us. The kid next to me exclaimed “Look at the new kid”! Another yelled “What a loser”. I felt awful but fearing being made fun of for sticking up for him, I jumped in and yelled “Yea, what a loser, you can’t sit with us” Yep, I was that douche bag. All is well now, though. I apologized almost immediately and we still maintain a good friendship to this day.

  41. Charles Cramer says:

    There is probably many more situations since this story I am about to tell you, but I can’t remember off the top of my head, so here it is. I always used to go over my grandparents house and act like a dog for my grandmom. I loved going over her house! It was just like a day off from the world, even though I was only about 8 or 9. I remember jumping up on the couch and laying my head in her lap, and how I used to bark loudly at her until she would do something I wanted. It always had a great time there; I remember how the house used to smell of a kind of muggy air, although it never smelled bad, I loved it there. I remember it like it was yesterday, yet it was almost 10 years ago!

  42. Bekah Smith says:

    My body had yet to begin its metamorphosis. My chest was still flat. My silhouette had yet to protrude into curves. I was about four feet tall, but in the mirror, I saw a woman.
    At my Nana’s dresser, I used to stand and drag powdered brushes across my blemish-free skin. I expertly applied rouge to my rounded cheeks. Opening my eyes wide like a deer in the headlights, I coated my eyelashes with thick mascara, a black liquid that would drip off as my mother washed my face before bed. With my lips a perfect O, I swiped red lipstick first on my bottom lip then on the top. I smacked them together as I’d seen the women in my life do and stood back from the mirror to gaze at my masterpiece. Together with clip-on pearl earrings and a bright and lengthy necklace hanging to my knees, I saw a grown women. The plastic balls, one green one blue, wedged beneath my undershirt cast the illusion of breasts, what I wanted so desperately to have at the age of seven. I pretended to be a six foot tall, buxom vixen in a little black dress waiting for my man to escort me to a gala. I pretended to be a beautiful, grown women, hoping that what I saw in the mirror was foreshadowing all that was to come. But once my mother dabbed my skin clean with a wash cloth, presto, I was a little girl again.

  43. David Sadlowski says:

    I extremely miss hockey, and I basically tell myself that I’m still playing, when in reality I’m not. I guess that’s pretending. I miss hockey a crazy amount, and I really wish I was still playing. There are times when i say I’m still playing because i know I should still be playing, but I don’t even realize. It’s like automatic for me to say that I still play hockey because I’ve played pretty much my whole life, and hockey takes up a lot of your time. It’s really hard knowing that i’m no longer on a hockey team, but i guess I’m going to have to pretend I am until I join another team.

  44. Giovanni Adiletta says:

    http://a20.video2.blip.tv/12100000978649/Shotgunvideo-credits874.mpg?brs=2888&bri=5.6

    Im the third clip, starting at 13 seconds into the video.

    That day I went skateboarding with my friends Nick (who was filming) and my friend Seth (the one in the distance), and the skate spot is outside of Franklin Mill Mall. Its funny because you ask us to think about a memory and write about it as vividly as we can, but I actually don’t remember hitting my head at all. Even a couple hours after the fall I still couldn’t remember things that happened that day, so I tried to think of things that I would automatically know to see if I had permanent brain injuries like my class schedule but I couldn’t remember that either. It was really one of the weirdest experiences of my life, not being able to remember anything is very scary and I felt so out of it because I couldn’t remember things that I would typically know. I waited a few hours to see if my memory would start to come back to me, and if it didn’t I was going to go to the hospital. Luckily enough, by the end of the day everything was back to normal. I was very lucky that I did not receive any permanent injuries, I know I should have worn a helmet.

  45. Rachel Beecher says:

    For my entire life, I’ve been going to camp at my local family YMCA. I usually went to day camp, but for a change, I went to one week of sleep-away camp at Camp Thompson in the summer after 6th grade.
    I found after the first night that I was not a huge fan of stay-away camp. I was stuck in a group with a bunch of snobby girls from my middle school in the grade above me. We were never with other groups and I was stuck with these girls, except for a few times a day; meals and large group game.
    During meals, I still had to sit with my group, but there were others around. During large group game, on the other hand, every camper, counselor, program director, and employee were all together to hang out once a day around five o’clock.
    One day, our groups got split up to play four-way capture the flag. My friend Virginia and I were on the same team, and I decided to talk in a British accent the rest of the game. A younger kid that was on our team heard me speaking in the accent, and he asked me, “Are you really British?”
    “Right-ee oh!” I said in response, and kept it up the rest of the night in front of this little kid.
    I didn’t talk to him again until the final night where there was a big campfire with songs, skits, and marshmallows, where I sounded like I normally do. Afterwards, he walked up to me and said, “Where did your accent go?” curiously.
    I felt a little bad at first, then smiled and said, “Nope, I was just pretending.”

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