The Time I Got Very Lost In Disney By Chloe Clancy

I'm sure you may be concerned already just by having read the title of this blog post, and I don't blame you. This was probably one of the scariest moments of my life. Now, since this month's theme is creative writing, I'm going to tell this story the way I remember it, even though my mom tells me that my memory of this is entirely wrong. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this roller coaster of a story.

So, it all starts on a hot summer day down in Orlando, Florida, and Disney World was at its peak season. Tourists, children, and life sized characters were everywhere. I, a three year old toddler who was unable to walk for long distances, was having the time of my life. It was just me, and my stuffed Pablo doll (from The Backyardigans), chilling in a shaded stroller.

Now, one thing you should know about me when I was little is that I had an obsession with fountains.  I just thought they were so cool. And Disney World is full of these ginormous, elaborate pools of fountains spewing water, in different patterns and lengths, at every corner. Every time I would see a fountain, I would get out of the stroller, waddle over to the edge of the pool, dip my hand in, gaze at the water in pure awe, and sometimes my parents would give me pennies to throw in for good luck. I never broke routine.

There was this one fountain that I caught out of the corner of my eye. The stroller had stopped moving, and that was my cue. I hopped out of the stroller with Pablo, and said to my parents that I wanted to go  look at the fountain. I did, and boy was I satisfied. To my tiny eyes the pool seemed never ending, and each ripple of water would transform my reflection in a way that seemed magical. Not to kill the mood, but my attention span as a three year old was quite short so after about a minute I was done. I walked back to the stroller, which, to my surprise, was not there. I looked all around me, and I finally came to the conclusion that my parents were gone.

This is the point where my entire body just filled with panic. My continuous shouts for "Mommy and Daddy," were of no use. They had left me. I didn't cry very much when I was a kid. However, I cried so much that I probably could have filled that fountain twice.  I was a three year old, with no parents, in the middle of Disney World, clutching a stuffed penguin, sobbing in the middle of Epcot. My weeping was suddenly interrupted by an unfamiliar man. He picked me up, and carried me over to his stall, where I remember very vividly that he was selling maracas. This man comforted me, and told me I was okay (which I obviously wasn't), and kept me by his stall for the next fifteen minutes.

I eventually ran out of tears, and the man hoisted me up onto his shoulders. The sun was getting lower in the sky, and I watched the huge crowds of people emerge from the sun in our direction. There's a moment when I can only see one head in the crowd. I wait for him to get closer, and then I realized. My dad was coming back for me. I ran over to him, and he picked my tiny body up into his comforting arms. That's pretty much the end of the story. After my dad came back, I'm pretty sure I just got back into the stroller and we continued walking.

I know, traumatizing. I don't think its something many people can say happened to them, and it's an interesting conversation starter. Seeing the look on people's faces when I tell them what happened is always fun. Now, twelve years later, my mom says she remembers wondering why the stroller felt so light all of a sudden and I was only lost for 5 minutes (sure). Thanks mom and dad.

A map of Epcot

My Shocking First Experience With a Pumpkin Spice Latte By Chloe Clancy

        For the longest time, I was always super reluctant to try new foods, because of my food allergies. However, this summer, I broke out my shell, and expanded my palette during my summer travels. Surprisingly it was liberating to eat more than just pizza and chicken nuggets. Now, I was finally ready to dive into everyone's favorite Fall craze, the pumpkin spice latte, for the first time. I know what you may be thinking, "You're a teenage girl, how could you not have tried a pumpkin spice latte?" Trust me, I can't wrap my head around it either. I was clean, until last week. 
        It was a sunny Sunday, and I was home all day doing homework. My mom went out to do a couple of errands, and before I knew it, she returned home with two Starbucks cups in her hand. Almost immediately I knew what was in those cups. All over Instagram and Snapchat, they were being advertised. I saw several ads saying, "It's Back!" or "The pumpkin spice latte is finally here!" and just like any guilty consumer looking for adventure, I wanted to try one. Suddenly, I was holding the cup in my hand, and I felt genuinely excited to take a drink. 
        The cup was still warm, after having time to cool during the car ride home. I looked at it for a few moments, bracing myself, and then I took my first sip. Nothing. I took another sip and let it stay on my tongue for a little longer. Still nothing. I waited a couple more seconds, and then it hit me. I would describe this taste as twelve different spices brutally attacking my tongue at once. I hated it. I thought, "This can't be possible, I thought these were so good!" In doubt of my own senses, I took another sip. Then another, and another, and so on. I tried to decipher what I tasted. I thought the pumpkin taste was very faint, and overpowered by what tasted like nutmeg and cinnamon. My mom mentioned that there was whipped cream mixed in the latte, which, unfortunately, I didn't taste at all. 
        I was in denial. With every sip I took, I hated it even more. I like everything that's in a pumpkin spice latte individually, but mixed together, I'm not a fan. I took off the lid and looked inside to see half of a grande pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks. It was a disgusting shade of orange, and oils of some sort coated the side of the cup where there wasn't liquid. It was not pretty. I finally came to the realization that I wasn't going to finish, so I gave the rest to my mom. 
        I was just as disappointed as you are right now, reading about how much I hate the world's favorite seasonal latte. I honestly thought I was going to enjoy it, since coffee has a special place in my heart. Now, a week later, when I tell people about my experience, everyone is astonished. I don't think I have met one person who has disliked a pumpkin spice latte. I've found this drink to be extremely over-hyped and advertised. I mean seriously, Starbucks released this drink on August 28th (yes, you read that right), almost a month before the official start of Fall. In the last week of August, everyone's soaking up the last bits of summer, not thinking about pumpkin spice and Halloween. 
        Now, my hatred of the drink could possibly come from the fact that Starbucks doesn't even make the best pumpkin spice latte, and I should have gotten it somewhere else. Honestly, after my experience I have no interest in trying a different one. I'm going to stick with the green tea latte instead. You can quote me on this, the pumpkin spice latte is overrated. 

How The End Of My Summer Was One To Remember By: Jenna Blandina

This summer was definitely way too fast for my liking, as it feels like we were just completing our final exams a week ago. As much as I really wanted summer to last for a lifetime, it was nice to come back and see all of my friends again. Being someone who loves when schedules come out, getting school supplies, and finding the perfect outfit for the first day of school, I was anxious to come back the first week in September. As the Monday went by, then Tuesday, I was not sleeping because of first day excitement. My week was going perfectly as I got the perfect outfit and had all of my notebooks organized, so I decided to top off the week with a haircut. This might have been the worst experience of my life after what happened next. 


I was all ready for my first impression of sophomore year to be great, just when I show up to school with a giant mark on my forehead. Where I got this giant wound I will tell you now. I was finished with my hair cut and my hairstylist decided to curl my hair just for fun. Now I can guess you have already figured out where this is headed (ha get it). Just as she is making the fourth curl, she by accident hits my head with the iron. At first I didn't feel a thing, so I thought it would not be a big deal, so I didn't even bring it up (this was my first mistake). As she is taking her time curling piece after piece, my head starts to itch and really hurt. This hurt wasn't like anything I have experienced before because I couldn't tell if it was all in my head, or if my head was actually hurting. Finally when she curls the last hair, I can feel the water starting to build up underneath my eyes. I keep telling myself to hold the tears in, as they are all ready streaming down my face. I quickly ran to my car and just wanted the pain to go away. The mark on my face at this moment was barely noticeable, but as the day went by, the invisible mark turned into a plumb purple burn. Wednesday rolled by, and as soon as I knew it, it was Thursday September 6th, the first day of school. I walked into school and all of my friends immediately were asking what was on my head. I told them the story, and they all felt so bad for me. Now you might be thinking, Jenna, why didn't you just put makeup on it? This is what I was thinking too, except I was not allowed to put anything on it because I could get an infection. 

Fast forwarding, here I am today with a non purple mark on my head, just slightly discolored. I am alright, except for the fact that I had to take school pictures with a burn on my head and my ideal perfect first day was ruined. Being that I had this mark on my head for picture day, when looking back in the yearbook in my years to come, I will always remember that day and the feelings associated with it. As I will remember those feelings, I will also be laughing at myself because now it's a story to tell. 

Below is the lovely picture I took of myself the day I got burned.