Me in 1000 words Anonymous

I shop at the local thrift store often. I know its six sections of racks and shelves as if they were in my own closet. I don’t shop there for financial reasons, nor do I shop there for trendy fashion finds. I shop there for the stories the t-shirts whisper to anyone who listens. With a little luck, each piece of clothing sees years of a person’s life. The words “Sandy Plains Softball League,” or “Harrison High School Class of 1999” screen-printed on the front are the only look you get into the former owner’s life. The fun lies in the inference. Just as it is impossible to learn everything about someone from a t-shirt they wear, it will be impossible to learn everything you need to know about me from one essay. These are only the words screen-printed on the front of my t-shirt.

I am -----, and my name has too much thought behind it for a girl who likes to live life as it happens. You may call me Oxymoron. I am chaotic, as my curly hair suggests, but I have a near-obsessive need for organization of any kind. I am an optimistic skeptic. I am horribly opinionated and usually shy. I am recognized by both my all-capital-letter print and my elaborate script. I am the rock my friends rely on for support, but I am still a teenage girl,...