I Am Like a Burrito

Tortilla: God is the tortilla of my life. Call Him whatever you want – Savior, Shepherd, Father – I’ll just stick with tortilla. He’s the thin skin that protects me and holds me. If I screw up, I know that my tortilla will be there for me, no matter what.

Rice: You can reach me by mail, just address the letter straight to my town. This sheltered bubble is the place I call home. It’s where I brush my teeth and paint my nails. It’s where I munch on black bean salsa from Kramer’s and create spontaneous YouTube videos. Feel like watching shiny Mercedes sports cars pull into long driveways? Care for a fine wine tasting party at the Laney’s? Come on down to my lovely ZIP code. It’s the classiest rice around.

Beans: Upon entering the double doors of my high school on my first day, I saw masses of students threatening to re-create the stampede scene from “The Lion King.

” Oh, geez, I thought. And, 952 days later, I still feel the same way each time I walk into school. I’m just one of the thousands of students. I’m just another bean. A bean with flavor extraordinaire.

Chicken: Greenish-blue eyes. Chocolate brown hair. Five feet, seven-and-a-half inches. Yep, that’s me. I can’t touch my tongue to my nose, but I can stretch my toes to unbelievable distances. Sports aren’t exactly my thing, so I lack bicep muscles. Could that be why I’ve never been able to pass the pull-up test? I guess from the outside, I’m just an average piece of chicken. But don’t worry: I’ve got wings, and some day I’ll be the first chicken to fly.

Mild salsa: The girl who cuts my hair told me that I’m pleasant. Pleasant!? I thought, suddenly the victim of a complete and utter mental meltdown. I clung to the sides of the black vinyl chair, trying to wrap my head around the dullness of her diction. Sure, I’m nice and all, but couldn’t she have chosen a spicier word? Like brilliant. Or dazzling. I would have been happy with that. Oh, well. I guess a mild salsa personality isn’t so bad.

Cheese: “Melanie, would you mind reading your paper aloud to the class?” Ever since my second grade teacher told me that I had a knack for writing, I’ve devoted my time to words. My friends practiced cheerleading and painted pictures; I wrote stories. Every time I open a blank Microsoft Word document, I swear I can hear angels singing the Hallelujah chorus. Cheese is the glue that holds my ideas together.

Lettuce: Every year on January first, I sit down in front of my iMac and come up with 10 New Year’s resolutions. No more, no less. From trivial to incredibly meaningful, my goals reflect who I am and who I’d like to be. Number 10 on the list? Get into Northwestern. If my dreams are lettuce, then Northwestern is the greenest leaf.