Descriptive Essay: Not Just Any Living Room
9-12-2011
English
Not Just Any Living Room
If you walk into my living room, you’ll see nothing out of the ordinary. Just a cozy little room with two sofas that lay against two of the four walls. The third wall has a TV and VCR case with many pictures and certificates put on display. The fourth wall has a computer table with a little desk on the side. In the middle of the room lies an oval rug with swirly patterns and on top of that lies a small coffee table. This room has everything that any other living room would have in it, but for me it has more than just something normal. In this room are many artifacts that carry memories that belong to me.
On the left side of the TV case, on the second shelf towards the bottom stands my 8th grade graduation diploma. Whenever I look at the certificate with the leather bound cover I remember of when I first received it.
It was almost done. Just ten more minutes. She was almost done calling all the names. Five more to go till my name was called. One down, my hands are sweating like mad, two down, I can feel my heart drumming, three down, I think I’m feeling dizzy, four down, oh crap!“Jasmin Husain,” called Ms. Knight, our school counselor. It was time for me to go and take my diploma from Ms. Sydnor. I slowly walked around the empty and barren stairs in front of me until the top of the glossy wooden stairs of the stage. I went down the stairs one by one carefully holding on to the cold steel railing in case I trip on my dress because of these ridiculous heels. After I make it down the stairs I walked two feet over to Ms. Sydnor. She shook my sweaty hand saying the words “Congratulations Jasmin, you’ve come a long way and you have a long way to go.” She handed me the navy blue, leather bound diploma. Caring the thick diploma I started to follow my friend out of the Gymnasium door.
This is one of the most important memories in my life. It was a moment in my life where I made a transition from middle school to high school. I felt accomplished, like a just arrived at a goal that I was waiting to reach my entire life. I feel like my diploma represents that goal that I’ve reached. It shows that I am in a way that I was growing up. Not in inches or centimeters but from feeling completed.
As I look back at the TV case more artifacts start to bring back more memories. On the bottom shelf of the TV case lies an old, dusty, black VCR with two buttons missing. I start to remember how many times in my childhood my family had to replace the VCRs because my little sister and me breaking them. As I observe the broken buttons another memory runs across my mind.
“AAh NO! Not again Tajnia! Did you really just break all of those buttons out of these holes again? This is like the third time!” Yelled my dad to baby Tajnia’s slobbering, and glowing face.“I can’t believe we have to go out and buy another VCR, this one wasn’t even a year old!” Dad continued to complain as we all filed in to the car.
This was the fourth time that we were going out to Wal-Mart to buy a TV since we had come to Philadelphia. The first two times it was my fault. The first time I stuck sugar daddy candies into the new cassette holder. The second time I’d spilled Pepsi. At least now I was a big girl, I was seven years old and I knew how the world worked. I’ve matured over the past two years. I know all the specific things that make dad upset. So I have long ago stopped committing those crimes. Tajnia on the other hand still hasn’t learned the lesson.
This is another very important memory that also belongs to me. This memory to me stands for family. There are many different definitions of family. But, family to me means a group of people who you can look up to. People who understand you, accept your mistakes, and helps you to become the best person that you can be. In this memory Tajnia looks up to me, hoping that she will one day learn not to make the mistakes that makes dad upset. That she will also mature and learn from her mistakes like I did when I was her age.I start to laugh at myself thinking of all of these now old memories. My living room has many if the same ideas as any other living room. But it has memories that are very specific to my family and I. Every small detail in the room has something special to it. From the vase of artificial flowers to the knitted tissue box cover. From the stains on the walls to the spills on the carpet.
