It was happening again. I could feel the first warning signs: the cool trickling sensation, the light metallic taste in my mouth which I knew would grow stronger, and the fact that my friend was pointing at my nose and backing away from me. Within seconds, my nosebleed began in full flow, with blood gushing down my nostrils and me trying futilely to block it with my hands. I tipped my head back, pinched my nostrils, and raised my hand to get the attention of my gym teacher.
“Not again!”, he said exasperatedly, “All right, leave your stuff here, someone will grab it for you, and go to the nurses office.”
I complied with the first order he gave me, but I never went to the nurses office. I had a strange dislike of the nurses office, and avoided it at all costs. Each time I had a nosebleed, I would sneak into the nearest bathroom and stay there until the bleeding had subsided. This particular incident occurred years ago, back when I was in second grade. However, this aversion to the nurse's office followed me even until last year, where I regurgitated (to put it lightly) everything out of my stomach during my third period English class. I would’ve preferred to just stick it out in the bathroom, but I was foiled by my English teacher, who told me the nurse's office was expecting me, so I had no choice but to go.
Nosebleeds plagued me throughout my second year of elementary school, and no one seemed to be able to find a reason for them. My mom attributed it to frequent dryness, and my sister…..well, she like to tell everyone in the vicinity that extensive picking in the nose area had caused the nosebleeds. Personally, however, I really didn’t know why they happened, just that they happened during convenient times. For instance, my second grade PE classes used to be split between a big gym and a smaller gym, and we were in the big gym about once every two weeks. The big gym PE classes were taught by a different teacher, a rather intimidating man, or so I thought at the time. I hated PE classes in the big gym for some reason, and every time we had class there, a blood vessel or something would break in my nose, and bam. Just like that, a nosebleed would start, and rescue me from thirty five minutes of physical education in the big gym.
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This post started out pretty well, it was an interesting introduction. But after that, I think your story kind of dwindled off and got sidetracked, as in it didn't connect that well with the intro. The conclusion I thought was also a little lacking: it didn't feel finished? I would suggest focusing on one story/point and attacking that, instead trying to make multiple points and somehow tying them together. And avoid grammar mistakes and typos!! And this is probably not the type of comment you wanted, but I feel you can use this blogging thing to improve your writing, since you like doing it so much anyway.
Way to put me in this post. Telling people that you pick your nose nonstop sounds exactly like something I would say, except only when you were around so you could be especially embarrassed.
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