It’s Tortilla Time| Hi I’m Tori and this is my Story

My room speaks volumes about my quirky personality.

I performed a massive cleanup this weekend; drawers were emptied, enormous garbage bags containing clutter were disposed of. I’m admittedly proud of my efforts, though this summer I plan to redo my room entirely. It is painted an extremely vibrant shade of yellow that I selected at the age of four. I have grown more than weary of its vibrancy through the years, and I get increasingly eager to paint it every breathing moment.

Tucked away neatly in my room is a music stand, my saxophone not far in proximity. My music binder containing countless copies of sheet music rests directly below my alarm clock (that I still have yet to figure out). Placed on my top shelf are trophies that I’ve earned throughout the duration of my young life, among them are numerous soccer trophies, a couple from baseball, a notably large karate trophy and a metal earned at karate.

To the average eye, I’m probably some ass-kicking, soccer-playing band geek with an infatuation with obscenely bright shades of yellow. Oh but that’s not all.

Below my shelves lies a gigantic dog crate, where Seamus will quietly pass his time on occasion. Guests probably attempt to conceive just why I have a rather large cage in my room. Though it may look rather sketchy, it serves its purpose when need be.

I also happen to own a large collection of various dog books, encyclopedias and magazines that are placed together on my second shelf. This is generally not considered ordinary reading material for teenage girls, but when was I ever considered anything remotely close to ordinary?

Not too distant is my retro lava lamp, won in grade seven. The purple of my lava lamp clashes considerably with the yellow of my walls, but this has hardly mattered to me. I took an immediate liking to this lamp, however retro it may be. It was free, after all. Won by a fortunate twist of fate.

A mid-2001 edition of ‘The Lake Front News’ hangs on my incandescent wall, brought back from Ohio when I was ten years old (my family would immediately break out in a fit out laugher if they were made aware of this). The truth of it is that it reminds me very much of The Ohios and brings me that much closer to them. This, however, would undoubtedly bestow much confusion among guests. Why does this girl have a newspaper on her wall? And what the fuck is Frosty’s Pizza?

And lest I fail to mention Calanthe. She inhabits the surface of my desk, tucked away cozily in her camera bag.

I am such a weird kid.