Next stop Union square. Melanie was suddenly awakened from her deep sleep, she peeked one eye open, unaware of her surroundings, she looked around only to be confronted with three other eyes also staring in her direction. “Shit, I’m late” she mumbled to herself. The gray steel doors opened and Melanie found herself being flung side to side by the millions of other people needing to meet a time quota. “Excuse me! ” she yelled , while she ran up the stairs in her size nine Vera Wang heels. “Taxi” she screamed while waving her two arms in the air. The Taxi stopped abruptly and Melanie jumped in the passenger seat, “42nd and fifth avenue, step on it” she commanded the driver while pulling out her Blackberry, she suddenly was overwhelmed by her twelve voicemails and twenty new texts.
Most of her texts were from numerous men, ones she had met at all the clubs and events she frequently attended; men who all seemed to adore her. Melanie deleted all of the texts, without giving notice to them and took her M.A.C make up case out of her bag. She began to fish through the empty tubes of foundation and searched for lipstick that wasn’t dried out or finished. She noticed the cab came to a halt and without asking how much she dug through the pockets of her trench coat and flung a crumpled up hundred dollar bill into the drivers lap. She hurried out of the car, unaware of the enormous tip she gave the driver and the pink M.A.C makeup bag and blackberry that was on the backseat.
Melanie approached two huge gold doors that read VOGUE across the front of she then found herself in a waiting room, surrounded by a variety of well dressed females. Melanie wondered if she should have skipped the party at the Tahona night club last night, and stayed home preparing for the interview.
A man with a clip board opened the door, he seemed to be about 5’2 and was very welled dressed, “Melanie Citrus” he called out, “That’s me” Melanie said, walking over to were the man stood.
“Melanie you’re late, step lively” he said.
Melanie followed the man through the hallway as he stormed her with questions.
“Do you have your USB chip?” he asked.
“USB chip?” she questioned.
“Alright, well how are you going to be giving your presentation then?” the man asked annoyingly.
“What presentation?” she asked wide eyed.
“Ms. Citrus, this is not a game, I take my job seriously and I do not have time for your foolish antics, any other girl in the room will love to take your spot”.
“Trust me, this is not a joke to me I am in need of this job badly, this is my dream job” Melanie pleaded. “I’m sorry I was unaware that we had to give a presentation”.
“Were you also unaware of the voicemail and emails the company sent informing the applicants of what they were required to bring? What did you expect to be judged on your good looks?” the man snapped.
Melanie stayed quiet trying to fight the tears that were forcing there way out of her eyes.
“Ms. Citrus, please exit out of the gold doors on your right,“ the man stated while walking away, leaving a distraught Melanie by herself in the hallway.
Melanie exited the building, her whole body was numb she couldn’t feel her legs and her throat was tight, she flagged down a Taxi. “1021 Cabrini Blvd” she told the driver. Melanie slid into the backseat without even taking notice of the shady character, that was in the driver’s seat. Melanie closed her eyes and rested her head on her lap and began to cry silently she then fell asleep once again and was awaken by the cab driver. “Ms. we have arrived“, the driver said. Melanie awoke, “I’m sorry sir, how much?” she asked. “Twenty-five” he said. She dug through her pockets searching for any forms of money, Crap, what are you going to do now Melanie ? she thought. She reached for the car door, hoping the driver wouldn’t notice her attempt to leave. She heard a click and realized that the doors were now locked.
A face turned around to meet Melanie, one that was covered with untrimmed facial hair and was wrinkled filled. A red cowboy hat sat upon the head guarding the eyes of its owner, while one single pointy ear poked out underneath.
Melanie’s heart began to pick up pace, and her hands began to shake, she was nervous and began to search for words Melanie then searched through her brown purse, frantically looking for her phone, an unsuccessful search. She looked up hopelessly at the face, which began to smile, a smile full of yellow teeth.
“Guess you’re going to have to pay what you owe darling”, it whispered while turning up the car radio.
Melanie began to scream and bang on the car window, while Cyndi Laupers, Girl’s Just Wanna Have Fun echoed throughout the car, drowning out her cry’s for help.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Sudden Ficiton
Pay What You Owe
Next stop Union square. Melanie was suddenly awakened from her deep sleep, she peeked one eye open, unaware of her surroundings, she looked around only to be confronted with three other eyes also staring in her direction. “Shit, I’m late” she mumbled to herself, while stuffing the papers she had scattered on her lap, into her small brown purse. The gray steel doors opened and Melanie found herself being flung side to side by the millions of other people needing to meet a time quota. “Excuse me! ” she yelled , while she ran up the stairs in her size nine Vera Wang heels. Her short blonde hair cut clung to her head, while sweat dripped down her neck. “Taxi” she screamed while waving her two arms in the air. The Taxi stopped abruptly and Melanie jumped in the passenger seat, “42nd and fifth avenue, step on it” she commanded the driver while pulling out her Blackberry, she suddenly was overwhelmed by her twelve voicemails and twenty new texts.
Most of her texts were from numerous men, ones she had met at all the clubs and events she frequently attended; men who all seemed to have one thing in common they were attracted to her mysterious, fun loving, tom-boyish nature and it seemed like they all wanted to be the volunteer to tame the wild female beast. Melanie deleted all of the texts, without giving notice to them and took her M.A.C make up case out of her bag. She began to fish through the empty tubes of foundation and searched for lipstick that wasn’t dried out or finished. She noticed the cab came to a halt and without asking how much she dug through the pockets of her trench coat and flung a crumpled up hundred dollar bill into the drivers lap. She hurried out of the car, unaware of the enormous tip she gave the driver and the pink M.A.C makeup bag and blackberry that was on the backseat.
Melanie approached two huge gold doors that read VOGUE across the front of it, and her nerves started to kick in, they were the only thing that actually was on schedule. A huge arrow read EDITORIAL AUDITIONS THIS WAY, which Melanie followed, she then found herself in a waiting room, surrounded by a variety of well dressed females. Many were buried into their laptops while others flipped through note cards. Melanie wondered if she should have skipped the party at the Tahona night club last night, and stayed home preparing for the interview. “I’ll be fine,” she thought, while luckily finding a seat next to a slim brunette.
“Nice Vera Wang’s” the brunette whispered sarcastically, “Last Season right?,” the girl questioned.
“I don’t really know, I got them at a thrift store,” Melanie answered unaware of the girl’s use of sarcasm.
“They’re quite interesting,” the brunette replied, returning back to her studying.
A man with a clip board opened the door, he seemed to be about 5’2 and was very welled dressed, “Melanie Citrus” he called out, “That’s me” Melanie said, walking over to were the man stood.
“Melanie you’re late, step lively” he said.
Melanie followed the man through the hallway as he stormed her with questions.
“Do you have your USB chip?” he asked.
“USB chip?” she questioned.
“Alright, well how are you going to be giving your presentation then?” the man asked annoyingly.
“What presentation?” she asked wide eyed.
“Mrs. Citrus, this is not a game, I take my job seriously and I do not have time for your foolish antics, any other girl in the room will love to take your spot”.
“Trust me, this is not a joke to me I am in need of this job badly, this is my dream job” Melanie pleaded. “I’m sorry I was unaware that we had to give a presentation”.
“Were you also unaware of the voicemail and emails the company sent informing the applicants of what they were required to bring? What did you expect to be judged on your good looks?” the man snapped.
Melanie stayed quiet trying to fight the tears that were forcing there way out of her eyes.
“Ms. Citrus, please exit out of the gold doors on your right,“ the man stated while walking away, leaving a distraught Melanie by herself in the hallway.
Melanie exited the building, her whole body was numb she couldn’t feel her legs and her throat was tight, she flagged down a Taxi. “1021 Cabrini Blvd” she told the driver. Melanie slid into the backseat without even taking notice of the shady character, that was in the driver’s seat. Melanie closed her eyes and rested her head on her lap and began to cry silently she then fell asleep once again and was awaken by the cab driver. “Ms. we have arrived“, the driver said. Melanie awoke, “I’m sorry sir, how much?” she asked. “Twenty-five” he said. She dug through her pockets searching for any forms of money, “Crap, what are you going to do now Melanie ?” she thought. She reached for the car door, hoping the driver wouldn’t notice her attempt to leave. She heard a click and realized that the doors were now locked.
A face turned around to meet Melanie, one that was covered with untrimmed facial hair and was wrinkled filled. A red cowboy hat sat upon the head guarding the eyes of its owner, while one single pointy ear poked out underneath.
Melanie’s heart began to pick up pace, and her hands began to shake, she was nervous and began to search for words, “My friend is upstairs with the money, let me um just call her and she’ll come down”. Melanie then searched through her brown purse, frantically looking for her phone, an unsuccessful search. She looked up hopelessly at the face, which began to smile, a smile full of yellow teeth.
“Guess you’re going to have to pay what you owe darling”, it whispered while turning up the car radio.
Melanie began to scream and bang on the car window, while Cyndi Laupers, Girl’s Just Wanna Have Fun echoed throughout the car, drowning out her cry’s for help.
Next stop Union square. Melanie was suddenly awakened from her deep sleep, she peeked one eye open, unaware of her surroundings, she looked around only to be confronted with three other eyes also staring in her direction. “Shit, I’m late” she mumbled to herself, while stuffing the papers she had scattered on her lap, into her small brown purse. The gray steel doors opened and Melanie found herself being flung side to side by the millions of other people needing to meet a time quota. “Excuse me! ” she yelled , while she ran up the stairs in her size nine Vera Wang heels. Her short blonde hair cut clung to her head, while sweat dripped down her neck. “Taxi” she screamed while waving her two arms in the air. The Taxi stopped abruptly and Melanie jumped in the passenger seat, “42nd and fifth avenue, step on it” she commanded the driver while pulling out her Blackberry, she suddenly was overwhelmed by her twelve voicemails and twenty new texts.
Most of her texts were from numerous men, ones she had met at all the clubs and events she frequently attended; men who all seemed to have one thing in common they were attracted to her mysterious, fun loving, tom-boyish nature and it seemed like they all wanted to be the volunteer to tame the wild female beast. Melanie deleted all of the texts, without giving notice to them and took her M.A.C make up case out of her bag. She began to fish through the empty tubes of foundation and searched for lipstick that wasn’t dried out or finished. She noticed the cab came to a halt and without asking how much she dug through the pockets of her trench coat and flung a crumpled up hundred dollar bill into the drivers lap. She hurried out of the car, unaware of the enormous tip she gave the driver and the pink M.A.C makeup bag and blackberry that was on the backseat.
Melanie approached two huge gold doors that read VOGUE across the front of it, and her nerves started to kick in, they were the only thing that actually was on schedule. A huge arrow read EDITORIAL AUDITIONS THIS WAY, which Melanie followed, she then found herself in a waiting room, surrounded by a variety of well dressed females. Many were buried into their laptops while others flipped through note cards. Melanie wondered if she should have skipped the party at the Tahona night club last night, and stayed home preparing for the interview. “I’ll be fine,” she thought, while luckily finding a seat next to a slim brunette.
“Nice Vera Wang’s” the brunette whispered sarcastically, “Last Season right?,” the girl questioned.
“I don’t really know, I got them at a thrift store,” Melanie answered unaware of the girl’s use of sarcasm.
“They’re quite interesting,” the brunette replied, returning back to her studying.
A man with a clip board opened the door, he seemed to be about 5’2 and was very welled dressed, “Melanie Citrus” he called out, “That’s me” Melanie said, walking over to were the man stood.
“Melanie you’re late, step lively” he said.
Melanie followed the man through the hallway as he stormed her with questions.
“Do you have your USB chip?” he asked.
“USB chip?” she questioned.
“Alright, well how are you going to be giving your presentation then?” the man asked annoyingly.
“What presentation?” she asked wide eyed.
“Mrs. Citrus, this is not a game, I take my job seriously and I do not have time for your foolish antics, any other girl in the room will love to take your spot”.
“Trust me, this is not a joke to me I am in need of this job badly, this is my dream job” Melanie pleaded. “I’m sorry I was unaware that we had to give a presentation”.
“Were you also unaware of the voicemail and emails the company sent informing the applicants of what they were required to bring? What did you expect to be judged on your good looks?” the man snapped.
Melanie stayed quiet trying to fight the tears that were forcing there way out of her eyes.
“Ms. Citrus, please exit out of the gold doors on your right,“ the man stated while walking away, leaving a distraught Melanie by herself in the hallway.
Melanie exited the building, her whole body was numb she couldn’t feel her legs and her throat was tight, she flagged down a Taxi. “1021 Cabrini Blvd” she told the driver. Melanie slid into the backseat without even taking notice of the shady character, that was in the driver’s seat. Melanie closed her eyes and rested her head on her lap and began to cry silently she then fell asleep once again and was awaken by the cab driver. “Ms. we have arrived“, the driver said. Melanie awoke, “I’m sorry sir, how much?” she asked. “Twenty-five” he said. She dug through her pockets searching for any forms of money, “Crap, what are you going to do now Melanie ?” she thought. She reached for the car door, hoping the driver wouldn’t notice her attempt to leave. She heard a click and realized that the doors were now locked.
A face turned around to meet Melanie, one that was covered with untrimmed facial hair and was wrinkled filled. A red cowboy hat sat upon the head guarding the eyes of its owner, while one single pointy ear poked out underneath.
Melanie’s heart began to pick up pace, and her hands began to shake, she was nervous and began to search for words, “My friend is upstairs with the money, let me um just call her and she’ll come down”. Melanie then searched through her brown purse, frantically looking for her phone, an unsuccessful search. She looked up hopelessly at the face, which began to smile, a smile full of yellow teeth.
“Guess you’re going to have to pay what you owe darling”, it whispered while turning up the car radio.
Melanie began to scream and bang on the car window, while Cyndi Laupers, Girl’s Just Wanna Have Fun echoed throughout the car, drowning out her cry’s for help.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Reaction Paper 3
Kayla Ross
The Jilting of Granny Weatherall
Katherine Anne Porter’s The Jilting of Granny Weatherall, is tale that allows the reader to step in the shoes of an elderly women as she reminisces about her life and realizes that her heart has not yet recovered from the many betrayals she has suffered from. Grandma Weatherall is first introduced in her bedroom on her death bed, and readers then make a quick judgment as she snaps at the Doctor and her daughter who is trying to help her, readers questioned “what’s wrong with her”(pg1) but then Grandma Weatherall’s behavior was the justified as readers realized that “can we expect? She’s eighty years old…”. The reader then takes a turn of thought as Porter then introduces the reader to the events that made Weatherall the person she is, through the betrayal and injustices she suffered through loved ones.
Porter introduces the first account of betrayal through symbolism. While Granny Weatherall is in a semi conscious states objects in her room, begin to represent objects and different identities, there were “shelves laid out in dust with rows of jelly glasses and brown jugs and white stone-china jars with blue whirligigs and dust on top of the china pieces”, the dust that Granny Weatherall noticed can be seen as a symbolism for the disorder that took place in her life, that she believed that she swept under the carpet. Porter then introduces one of the moments Weatherall believed that she had in the back of her head, the day “she has put on the white veil and set out the white cake for the man who never arrived”. (pg 2) Through the third person Porter, puts emphasis on the fact that the betrayal of her fiance had felt like “the bottom dropped out of the world.”(pg 2) Porter sensory details by allowing the reader to experience the same emotion that Weatherall did as “she was blind and sweating with nothing under her feet and the walls falling away.”(pg 2)the reader then began to pity Grandma Weatherall and understand why she was so bitter.
The second betrayal that was introduced to the reader was the betrayal of her daughter Hapsy who failed to come visit her, Granny is so affected by this betrayal that though the art of flashback she seems to see herself a Hapsy, “the baby on Hapsy’s arm was Hapsy and himself and herself, all at once, and there was no surprise in the meeting.” (pg 3) The reader was able to grasp Granny’s love through these flash backs and made the connection that similar to Granny ex-fiance, Hapsy was also being left once again and was abandoning her mother. Throughout the story Granny asked for Hapsy about a record of five times, through repetition and consistency Porter portrayed Haspy as Granny’s savior.
As Granny Weatherall now is returning back to her reality, Porter reveals the final betrayal by using descriptive writing as Grandma Weatheall “Granny lay curled down within herself, amazed and watchful, staring at the point of light that was herself; her body was now only a deeper mass of shadow in an endless darkness and this darkness would curl around the light and swallow it up.” This use of imagery, adds drama to the scene its self, as the reader is wondering what is Granny’s next move as she is slipping closer to her death. , “the blue light from Cornelia’s lampshade drew into a tiny point in the center of her brain,”(3) and then Granny asks God for “a sign,”(3) so she could be assured of an after life but “there was no sign”. The betrayal of God to the reader almost over powers the betrayal of her fiancĂ©.
Katherine Anne Porter’s The Jilting of Granny Weatherall, focuses on how betrayal can affect one’s life almost through the account of an elder women. She described these accounts of betrayal through the art of flashback and brought out these accounts through symbolism and imagery.
The Jilting of Granny Weatherall
Katherine Anne Porter’s The Jilting of Granny Weatherall, is tale that allows the reader to step in the shoes of an elderly women as she reminisces about her life and realizes that her heart has not yet recovered from the many betrayals she has suffered from. Grandma Weatherall is first introduced in her bedroom on her death bed, and readers then make a quick judgment as she snaps at the Doctor and her daughter who is trying to help her, readers questioned “what’s wrong with her”(pg1) but then Grandma Weatherall’s behavior was the justified as readers realized that “can we expect? She’s eighty years old…”. The reader then takes a turn of thought as Porter then introduces the reader to the events that made Weatherall the person she is, through the betrayal and injustices she suffered through loved ones.
Porter introduces the first account of betrayal through symbolism. While Granny Weatherall is in a semi conscious states objects in her room, begin to represent objects and different identities, there were “shelves laid out in dust with rows of jelly glasses and brown jugs and white stone-china jars with blue whirligigs and dust on top of the china pieces”, the dust that Granny Weatherall noticed can be seen as a symbolism for the disorder that took place in her life, that she believed that she swept under the carpet. Porter then introduces one of the moments Weatherall believed that she had in the back of her head, the day “she has put on the white veil and set out the white cake for the man who never arrived”. (pg 2) Through the third person Porter, puts emphasis on the fact that the betrayal of her fiance had felt like “the bottom dropped out of the world.”(pg 2) Porter sensory details by allowing the reader to experience the same emotion that Weatherall did as “she was blind and sweating with nothing under her feet and the walls falling away.”(pg 2)the reader then began to pity Grandma Weatherall and understand why she was so bitter.
The second betrayal that was introduced to the reader was the betrayal of her daughter Hapsy who failed to come visit her, Granny is so affected by this betrayal that though the art of flashback she seems to see herself a Hapsy, “the baby on Hapsy’s arm was Hapsy and himself and herself, all at once, and there was no surprise in the meeting.” (pg 3) The reader was able to grasp Granny’s love through these flash backs and made the connection that similar to Granny ex-fiance, Hapsy was also being left once again and was abandoning her mother. Throughout the story Granny asked for Hapsy about a record of five times, through repetition and consistency Porter portrayed Haspy as Granny’s savior.
As Granny Weatherall now is returning back to her reality, Porter reveals the final betrayal by using descriptive writing as Grandma Weatheall “Granny lay curled down within herself, amazed and watchful, staring at the point of light that was herself; her body was now only a deeper mass of shadow in an endless darkness and this darkness would curl around the light and swallow it up.” This use of imagery, adds drama to the scene its self, as the reader is wondering what is Granny’s next move as she is slipping closer to her death. , “the blue light from Cornelia’s lampshade drew into a tiny point in the center of her brain,”(3) and then Granny asks God for “a sign,”(3) so she could be assured of an after life but “there was no sign”. The betrayal of God to the reader almost over powers the betrayal of her fiancĂ©.
Katherine Anne Porter’s The Jilting of Granny Weatherall, focuses on how betrayal can affect one’s life almost through the account of an elder women. She described these accounts of betrayal through the art of flashback and brought out these accounts through symbolism and imagery.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Journal #7
Kayla Ross
English-Journal 7
Pay What You Owe
Next stop Union square. Melanie was suddenly awakened from her deep sleep, she peeked one eye open, unaware of her surroundings, she looked around only to be confronted with three other eyes also staring in her direction. “Shit, I’m late” she mumbled to herself, while stuffing the papers she had scattered on her lap, into her small brown purse. The gray steel doors opened and Melanie found herself being flung side to side by the millions of other people needing to meet a time quota. “Excuse me! ” she yelled , while she ran up the stairs in her size nine Vera Wang heels. Her short blonde hair cut clung to her head, while sweat dripped down her neck. “Taxi” she screamed while waving her two arms in the air. The Taxi stopped abruptly and Melanie jumped in the passenger seat, “42nd and fifth avenue, step on it” she commanded the driver while pulling out her Blackberry, she suddenly was overwhelmed by her twelve voicemails and twenty new texts.
Most of her texts were from numerous men, ones she had met at all the clubs and events she frequently attended; men who all seemed to have one thing in common they were attracted to her mysterious, fun loving, tom-boyish nature and it seemed like they all wanted to be the volunteer to tame the wild female beast. Melanie deleted all of the texts, without giving notice to them and took her M.A.C make up case out of her bag. She began to fish through the empty tubes of foundation and searched for lipstick that wasn’t dried out or finished. She noticed the cab came to a halt and without asking how much she dug through the pockets of her trench coat and flung a crumpled up hundred dollar bill into the drivers lap. She hurried out of the car, unaware of the enormous tip she gave the driver and the pink M.A.C makeup bag and blackberry that was on the backseat.
Melanie approached two huge gold doors that read VOGUE across the front of it, and her nerves started to kick in, they were the only thing that actually was on schedule. A huge arrow read EDITORIAL AUDITIONS THIS WAY, which Melanie followed, she then found herself in a waiting room, surrounded by a variety of well dressed females. Many were buried into their laptops while others flipped through note cards. Melanie wondered if she should have skipped the party at the Tahona night club last night, and stayed home preparing for the interview. “I’ll be fine,” she thought, while luckily finding a seat next to a slim brunette.
“Nice Vera Wang’s” the brunette whispered sarcastically, “Last Season right?,” the girl questioned.
“I don’t really know, I got them at a thrift store,” Melanie answered unaware of the girl’s use of sarcasm.
“They’re quite interesting,” the brunette replied, returning back to her studying.
A man with a clip board opened the door, he seemed to be about 5’2 and was very welled dressed, “Melanie Citrus” he called out, “That’s me” Melanie said, walking over to were the man stood.
“Melanie you’re late, step lively” he said.
Melanie followed the man through the hallway as he stormed her with questions.
“Do you have your USB chip?” he asked.
“USB chip?” she questioned.
“Alright, well how are you going to be giving your presentation then?” the man asked annoyingly.
“What presentation?” she asked wide eyed.
“Mrs. Citrus, this is not a game, I take my job seriously and I do not have time for your foolish antics, any other girl in the room will love to take your spot”.
“Trust me, this is not a joke to me I am in need of this job badly, this is my dream job” Melanie pleaded. “I’m sorry I was unaware that we had to give a presentation”.
“Were you also unaware of the voicemail and emails the company sent informing the applicants of what they were required to bring? What did you expect to be judged on your good looks?” the man snapped.
Melanie stayed quiet trying to fight the tears that were forcing there way out of her eyes.
“Ms. Citrus, please exit out of the gold doors on your right,“ the man stated while walking away, leaving a distraught Melanie by herself in the hallway.
Melanie exited the building, her whole body was numb she couldn’t feel her legs and her throat was tight, she flagged down a Taxi. “1021 Cabrini Blvd” she told the driver. Melanie slid into the backseat without even taking notice of the shady character, that was in the driver’s seat. Melanie closed her eyes and rested her head on her lap and began to cry silently she then fell asleep once again and was awaken by the cab driver. “Ms. we have arrived“, the driver said. Melanie awoke, “I’m sorry sir, how much?” she asked. “Twenty-five” he said. She dug through her pockets searching for any forms of money, “Crap, what are you going to do now Melanie ?” she thought. She reached for the car door, hoping the driver wouldn’t notice her attempt to leave. She heard a click and realized that the doors were now locked.
A face turned around to meet Melanie, one that was covered with untrimmed facial hair and was wrinkled filled. A cowboy hat sat upon the head guarding the eyes of its owner.
Melanie’s heart began to pick up pace, and her hands began to shake, she was nervous and began to search for words, “My friend is upstairs with the money, let me um just call her and she’ll come down”. Melanie then searched through her brown purse, frantically looking for her phone, an unsuccessful search. She looked up hopelessly at the face, which began to smile, a smile full of yellow teeth.
“Guess you’re going to have to pay what you owe darling”, it whispered while turning up the car radio.
Melanie began to scream and bang on the car window, while Cyndi Laupers, Girl’s Just Wanna Have Fun echoed throughout the car, drowning out her cry’s for help.
English-Journal 7
Pay What You Owe
Next stop Union square. Melanie was suddenly awakened from her deep sleep, she peeked one eye open, unaware of her surroundings, she looked around only to be confronted with three other eyes also staring in her direction. “Shit, I’m late” she mumbled to herself, while stuffing the papers she had scattered on her lap, into her small brown purse. The gray steel doors opened and Melanie found herself being flung side to side by the millions of other people needing to meet a time quota. “Excuse me! ” she yelled , while she ran up the stairs in her size nine Vera Wang heels. Her short blonde hair cut clung to her head, while sweat dripped down her neck. “Taxi” she screamed while waving her two arms in the air. The Taxi stopped abruptly and Melanie jumped in the passenger seat, “42nd and fifth avenue, step on it” she commanded the driver while pulling out her Blackberry, she suddenly was overwhelmed by her twelve voicemails and twenty new texts.
Most of her texts were from numerous men, ones she had met at all the clubs and events she frequently attended; men who all seemed to have one thing in common they were attracted to her mysterious, fun loving, tom-boyish nature and it seemed like they all wanted to be the volunteer to tame the wild female beast. Melanie deleted all of the texts, without giving notice to them and took her M.A.C make up case out of her bag. She began to fish through the empty tubes of foundation and searched for lipstick that wasn’t dried out or finished. She noticed the cab came to a halt and without asking how much she dug through the pockets of her trench coat and flung a crumpled up hundred dollar bill into the drivers lap. She hurried out of the car, unaware of the enormous tip she gave the driver and the pink M.A.C makeup bag and blackberry that was on the backseat.
Melanie approached two huge gold doors that read VOGUE across the front of it, and her nerves started to kick in, they were the only thing that actually was on schedule. A huge arrow read EDITORIAL AUDITIONS THIS WAY, which Melanie followed, she then found herself in a waiting room, surrounded by a variety of well dressed females. Many were buried into their laptops while others flipped through note cards. Melanie wondered if she should have skipped the party at the Tahona night club last night, and stayed home preparing for the interview. “I’ll be fine,” she thought, while luckily finding a seat next to a slim brunette.
“Nice Vera Wang’s” the brunette whispered sarcastically, “Last Season right?,” the girl questioned.
“I don’t really know, I got them at a thrift store,” Melanie answered unaware of the girl’s use of sarcasm.
“They’re quite interesting,” the brunette replied, returning back to her studying.
A man with a clip board opened the door, he seemed to be about 5’2 and was very welled dressed, “Melanie Citrus” he called out, “That’s me” Melanie said, walking over to were the man stood.
“Melanie you’re late, step lively” he said.
Melanie followed the man through the hallway as he stormed her with questions.
“Do you have your USB chip?” he asked.
“USB chip?” she questioned.
“Alright, well how are you going to be giving your presentation then?” the man asked annoyingly.
“What presentation?” she asked wide eyed.
“Mrs. Citrus, this is not a game, I take my job seriously and I do not have time for your foolish antics, any other girl in the room will love to take your spot”.
“Trust me, this is not a joke to me I am in need of this job badly, this is my dream job” Melanie pleaded. “I’m sorry I was unaware that we had to give a presentation”.
“Were you also unaware of the voicemail and emails the company sent informing the applicants of what they were required to bring? What did you expect to be judged on your good looks?” the man snapped.
Melanie stayed quiet trying to fight the tears that were forcing there way out of her eyes.
“Ms. Citrus, please exit out of the gold doors on your right,“ the man stated while walking away, leaving a distraught Melanie by herself in the hallway.
Melanie exited the building, her whole body was numb she couldn’t feel her legs and her throat was tight, she flagged down a Taxi. “1021 Cabrini Blvd” she told the driver. Melanie slid into the backseat without even taking notice of the shady character, that was in the driver’s seat. Melanie closed her eyes and rested her head on her lap and began to cry silently she then fell asleep once again and was awaken by the cab driver. “Ms. we have arrived“, the driver said. Melanie awoke, “I’m sorry sir, how much?” she asked. “Twenty-five” he said. She dug through her pockets searching for any forms of money, “Crap, what are you going to do now Melanie ?” she thought. She reached for the car door, hoping the driver wouldn’t notice her attempt to leave. She heard a click and realized that the doors were now locked.
A face turned around to meet Melanie, one that was covered with untrimmed facial hair and was wrinkled filled. A cowboy hat sat upon the head guarding the eyes of its owner.
Melanie’s heart began to pick up pace, and her hands began to shake, she was nervous and began to search for words, “My friend is upstairs with the money, let me um just call her and she’ll come down”. Melanie then searched through her brown purse, frantically looking for her phone, an unsuccessful search. She looked up hopelessly at the face, which began to smile, a smile full of yellow teeth.
“Guess you’re going to have to pay what you owe darling”, it whispered while turning up the car radio.
Melanie began to scream and bang on the car window, while Cyndi Laupers, Girl’s Just Wanna Have Fun echoed throughout the car, drowning out her cry’s for help.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Reaction paper : Lamb the the Slaughter
Roald Dahl’s Lamb to the Slaughter is not only a witty tale, but is a tale of suspense and it is sure to engage any reader regardless of age group. Throughout the story the reader swims through the sea of countless emotions; from sympathizing with the protagonist, to being in a state of shock, being devoured into a state of suspense all emotions that are built off of the platform of betrayal. Dahl lays out three ultimate accounts of betrayal through the expense of the Maloney’s. The Maloney’s from a third person perspective may be viewed as the starter kit to the perfect middle class family; as Dahl uses significant details to paint the picture of their luxurious home and uses characterization to introduce Mary Maloney and Peter Maloney. Mrs. Maloney is characterized as a devoted expecting housewife who is overwhelmed over her pregnancy and ready to start her family, and sees her husbands arrival home was “always a blissful time of day”, while Mr. Maloney is a working husband senior in the police division. The may seem to be the perfect candidates’ of what the perfect family consist of, but Dahl takes a turn on false perception and unravels the prominent theme of betrayal through a count of techniques leaving the reader at the edge of their seat throughout the remainder of the story.
Dahl first introduces the theme of betrayal with Peter Maloney’s unexplained reason to leave pregnant Mary to take care of a child by herself. Peter Maloney’s choice betrays their wedding vows and abandons Mary. Through direct dialogue, Dahl introduces a heartless Peter Maloney’s, through the text used in Peters speech such as “this is going to be a shock to you” and his mention that he “thought about it a good deal and I’ve decided the only thing to do is tell you right away. I hope you won’t blame me too much.” Peter then ends his “four or five minutes at most” speech about the ending to their marriage and states that she not fuss because it “would not be very good for my job.” Peter is now characterized as a selfish character, and the reader is shocked with his lack of sympathy and automatically begins to pity Mary. Dahl uses the active voice, subtext and also depicts the exact physical sensations that Mary is experiencing, Mary went from being in a state of “curiously tranquility” to feeling “a slight nausea and a desire to vomit.”, she also “couldn’t feel her feet touching the floor” as she began enter a state of an “automatic now-down“. The reader now begins to understand the degree of Mary’s betrayal through the art of subtext.
With this account of betrayal that is now introduced to the reader Dahl then uses the method of action to change the characterization of the pleasant and innocent housewife that the reader was first introduced to. Mary’s decision to kill her husband by striking him with a leg of lamb, changed the entire mood of piece, Mary was “feeling cold and surprised” as even she herself along with the reader is stunned and left mouth opened at Mary’s decision. The decision to kill her husband may be seen as the ultimate betrayal, but because of Dahl’s excellent characterization of Peter and how cold hearted he was, almost was an justification for the action committed by Mary.
The reader is now captured into suspense, as Dahl introduces yet another account of betrayal as Mary now begins to plot a way to deceive the cops that she is very familiar with. Dahl then becomes an omniscient author and allows the reader to go in to the mind of Mary’s. Mary’s mind “became clear all of a sudden” and “she began thinking very fast.” The reader is then amazed at her wittiness as she then begins to cook the object that she used to kill her husband. When the detectives arrive at the house they first question her, the reader is on the edge of their seat to see if Mary’s alibi and plan are foolproof which it is. Through out the search through the Maloney household Dahl masters the concept of irony, primarily when Mary offers the leg of lamb to the detectives who happily eat it , while eating the men exchange phrases about the “big club that the guy used to hit poor Patrick” and mentioned that the weapon “ought to be easy to find.” and probably “right under our very noses”. The weapon was indeed under their noses, more or less right in their mouths. Mary’s witty and smart plan on such quick thinking left the reader in a shock of amazement, sharing a smirk similar to Mary’s.
Through Lamb to the Slaughter Roald Dahl successfully delivered the theme of betrayal by playing with the emotions of the reader, allowing one to experience betrayal on many different levels.
Dahl first introduces the theme of betrayal with Peter Maloney’s unexplained reason to leave pregnant Mary to take care of a child by herself. Peter Maloney’s choice betrays their wedding vows and abandons Mary. Through direct dialogue, Dahl introduces a heartless Peter Maloney’s, through the text used in Peters speech such as “this is going to be a shock to you” and his mention that he “thought about it a good deal and I’ve decided the only thing to do is tell you right away. I hope you won’t blame me too much.” Peter then ends his “four or five minutes at most” speech about the ending to their marriage and states that she not fuss because it “would not be very good for my job.” Peter is now characterized as a selfish character, and the reader is shocked with his lack of sympathy and automatically begins to pity Mary. Dahl uses the active voice, subtext and also depicts the exact physical sensations that Mary is experiencing, Mary went from being in a state of “curiously tranquility” to feeling “a slight nausea and a desire to vomit.”, she also “couldn’t feel her feet touching the floor” as she began enter a state of an “automatic now-down“. The reader now begins to understand the degree of Mary’s betrayal through the art of subtext.
With this account of betrayal that is now introduced to the reader Dahl then uses the method of action to change the characterization of the pleasant and innocent housewife that the reader was first introduced to. Mary’s decision to kill her husband by striking him with a leg of lamb, changed the entire mood of piece, Mary was “feeling cold and surprised” as even she herself along with the reader is stunned and left mouth opened at Mary’s decision. The decision to kill her husband may be seen as the ultimate betrayal, but because of Dahl’s excellent characterization of Peter and how cold hearted he was, almost was an justification for the action committed by Mary.
The reader is now captured into suspense, as Dahl introduces yet another account of betrayal as Mary now begins to plot a way to deceive the cops that she is very familiar with. Dahl then becomes an omniscient author and allows the reader to go in to the mind of Mary’s. Mary’s mind “became clear all of a sudden” and “she began thinking very fast.” The reader is then amazed at her wittiness as she then begins to cook the object that she used to kill her husband. When the detectives arrive at the house they first question her, the reader is on the edge of their seat to see if Mary’s alibi and plan are foolproof which it is. Through out the search through the Maloney household Dahl masters the concept of irony, primarily when Mary offers the leg of lamb to the detectives who happily eat it , while eating the men exchange phrases about the “big club that the guy used to hit poor Patrick” and mentioned that the weapon “ought to be easy to find.” and probably “right under our very noses”. The weapon was indeed under their noses, more or less right in their mouths. Mary’s witty and smart plan on such quick thinking left the reader in a shock of amazement, sharing a smirk similar to Mary’s.
Through Lamb to the Slaughter Roald Dahl successfully delivered the theme of betrayal by playing with the emotions of the reader, allowing one to experience betrayal on many different levels.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
The List
Julie flipped through the channels, she then noticed a dark figure headed towards her door. The figure glistened under the porch light and Julie squinted realizing it was one of her old friends Maggie.
"Hey Julie, can I umm sleep over tonight?" Maggie asked.
"Sure , Maggie most definitely, I never see you now, especially since the summer ended."
"You're so right." She replied walking inside the corridor peering around the Mc Doug’s Victorian inspired living room.
"Are your parents home?”
“No, they went upstate to my grandmother’s.” Julie smirked
“What about your brother?”
"Corey? He's not home yet he's out, he'll be back soon why is there a problem?
"No , just wondering". Maggie said fixing her hair in the wooden mirror near by.
"So Maggie, what's first? You want to watch a movie upstairs in my room?”
" No, I was just thinking we can sit down here and hang out," Maggie said patting the head of the leather couch. The two sat for a while watching the TV. in silence. They then heard footsteps approaching the house. Maggie's ears perked up
"Shhh , turn off the TV Julia" she said while fixing her clothing.
"Yeah those joggers are definitely going to charge in this room".
"Oh joggers?“ Maggie giggled. "I'm so silly" She then got off the couch and began to yawn.
“It’s like 12:30 isn’t it to late for Corey to be out with the guys?” she said glancing at the clock.
“ With the guys? When is Corey just ever out with the guys” Julie replied sarcastically.
“Yeah, he is quite popular now, I guess.” Maggie replied looking down at her shoes.
Rubbing her belly, she then walked into the kitchen trying to find any food she could. A shiny red Doritos bag awaited her, and a crumbled piece of paper lay beneath it. The paper was filled with telephone numbers and various names. Maggie recognized the names they were girls from the Senior class.
“What ya doing, Maggs? Julie said walking over to Maggie’s side.
“Oh, I guess you found Corey’s list “ she said giggling.
“What list?”
“You know, all the girl’s he’s talking to now they‘re so gullible, they all fall for his same old lines, pathetic right?” Remember to turn off the lights when your done” Julie said while leaving the kitchen.
“No problem”. Maggie said quietly.
Maggie’s eyes scanned the paper one last time,
“Yeah so pathetic.” she whispered.
She left the paper on the counter and then turned off the lights, leaving a dark kitchen behind her.
"Hey Julie, can I umm sleep over tonight?" Maggie asked.
"Sure , Maggie most definitely, I never see you now, especially since the summer ended."
"You're so right." She replied walking inside the corridor peering around the Mc Doug’s Victorian inspired living room.
"Are your parents home?”
“No, they went upstate to my grandmother’s.” Julie smirked
“What about your brother?”
"Corey? He's not home yet he's out, he'll be back soon why is there a problem?
"No , just wondering". Maggie said fixing her hair in the wooden mirror near by.
"So Maggie, what's first? You want to watch a movie upstairs in my room?”
" No, I was just thinking we can sit down here and hang out," Maggie said patting the head of the leather couch. The two sat for a while watching the TV. in silence. They then heard footsteps approaching the house. Maggie's ears perked up
"Shhh , turn off the TV Julia" she said while fixing her clothing.
"Yeah those joggers are definitely going to charge in this room".
"Oh joggers?“ Maggie giggled. "I'm so silly" She then got off the couch and began to yawn.
“It’s like 12:30 isn’t it to late for Corey to be out with the guys?” she said glancing at the clock.
“ With the guys? When is Corey just ever out with the guys” Julie replied sarcastically.
“Yeah, he is quite popular now, I guess.” Maggie replied looking down at her shoes.
Rubbing her belly, she then walked into the kitchen trying to find any food she could. A shiny red Doritos bag awaited her, and a crumbled piece of paper lay beneath it. The paper was filled with telephone numbers and various names. Maggie recognized the names they were girls from the Senior class.
“What ya doing, Maggs? Julie said walking over to Maggie’s side.
“Oh, I guess you found Corey’s list “ she said giggling.
“What list?”
“You know, all the girl’s he’s talking to now they‘re so gullible, they all fall for his same old lines, pathetic right?” Remember to turn off the lights when your done” Julie said while leaving the kitchen.
“No problem”. Maggie said quietly.
Maggie’s eyes scanned the paper one last time,
“Yeah so pathetic.” she whispered.
She left the paper on the counter and then turned off the lights, leaving a dark kitchen behind her.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Journal 5A
Wearing :
Gray Jacket
Beige pants
His clothes looked kind of wrinkly like he didn’t own an iron
Worried Expression
Carrying it’s a girl bag
Left shoe is untied
White collar peeking through the jacket with a stain on it
Hair is combed neatly, like he spent a while on it
Brown cane laying in the pole beside him.
His name is George Franklin
He is 65 years old
His favorite color is Blue
My only son Benjamin just called me and told me about his new daughter Rebecca, I’m now on my way to see the precious little blessing. Muriel will be there and I haven’t seen her in years after our divorce. I can remember everything about Muriel her smell, the way she dressed and her high pitch laugh that was always was followed by a soft snort. I think about her every day. After she cheated on me with my cousin Thompson I haven’t spoke to neither of them. I wonder if Muriel will be at the baby shower. Will she have changed? Do you think she would want me back? I sure hope she would apologize and could erase the twenty one years of hurt she caused me. If not maybe she would be nice enough to give me my heart back, she’s had it in her possessions for so long and enable my ability to love anyone else.
Benjamin knew Thompson as his father and was able to forgive my absence in his life, but how will I forgive his mother and obtain a forgiving heart
Gray Jacket
Beige pants
His clothes looked kind of wrinkly like he didn’t own an iron
Worried Expression
Carrying it’s a girl bag
Left shoe is untied
White collar peeking through the jacket with a stain on it
Hair is combed neatly, like he spent a while on it
Brown cane laying in the pole beside him.
His name is George Franklin
He is 65 years old
His favorite color is Blue
My only son Benjamin just called me and told me about his new daughter Rebecca, I’m now on my way to see the precious little blessing. Muriel will be there and I haven’t seen her in years after our divorce. I can remember everything about Muriel her smell, the way she dressed and her high pitch laugh that was always was followed by a soft snort. I think about her every day. After she cheated on me with my cousin Thompson I haven’t spoke to neither of them. I wonder if Muriel will be at the baby shower. Will she have changed? Do you think she would want me back? I sure hope she would apologize and could erase the twenty one years of hurt she caused me. If not maybe she would be nice enough to give me my heart back, she’s had it in her possessions for so long and enable my ability to love anyone else.
Benjamin knew Thompson as his father and was able to forgive my absence in his life, but how will I forgive his mother and obtain a forgiving heart
Monday, October 12, 2009
First Analytical paper
Betrayal : to deceive, misguide, or corrupt.
Being betrayed by one you trust is very heartbreaking, the stir of emotions that one feels in the moment of betrayal is usually very hard to capture, unless you are in the predicament yourself, but through literature the reader is invited to experience these multiple emotions without going through the heart wrenching experience. O. Henry‘s After Twenty years, blindfolds the reader throughout the story, not giving a hint on the amount of betrayal that is on the way to come.
O. Henry masters the theme of betrayal because throughout the story O’ henry almost betrays the reader himself, by taking the story on an unexpected journey. The protagonist Bob is awaiting an old friend while waiting he speaks to the Policeman; he is not concerned about conversing with the Policeman, even though he is a wanted criminal. “I came a thousand miles to stand in this door to-night, and it's worth it if my old partner turns up."(pg 1) Bob honored Jimmy and his friendship, by traveling miles just to be in the company of Jimmy. O. Henry depicted a feeling of camaraderie to the reader. “We agreed that night that we would meet here again exactly twenty years from that date and time, no matter what our conditions might be or from what distance we might have to come. (pg 1) Henry then paints a vivid picture of Bob, as a caring friend and a man of his word. Jimmy’s character is built by Bob’s descriptions “He was one of the truest, stanchest old chap in the world.” The reader then begins to anticipate the arrival of Bob’s friend.
O. Henry uses setting to foreshadow of trouble yet to come as “the wind had risen from its uncertain puffs into a steady blow. Few foot passengers astir in that quarter hurried dismally and silently along with coat collars turned high and pocketed hands.”(pg 2). “A tall man in a long overcoat, with collar turned up to his ears, hurried across from the opposite side of the street.” Henry holds the factor of suspense as he uses subtle details to continue to paint the picture of the mysterious Jimmy Wells. When Bob finally was reunited with Jimmy, a mood of tranquility was depicted as the two were united and “started up the street, arm in arm.” (pg 2). ‘When they came into this glare each of them turned simultaneously to gaze upon the other's face. The man from the West stopped suddenly and released his arm.
"You're not Jimmy Wells," he snapped. "Twenty years is a long time, but not long enough to change a man's nose from a Roman to a pug." (pg 2) a confused mood was introduced as the story began to take a turn for the worst. "You've been under arrest for ten minutes, 'Silky' Bob.” (pg 2) The reader then begins to develop a mix of emotions. Who did this? Why is he getting arrested? Where is Jimmy Wells? A note then delivered all the answers it stated “Bob: I was at the appointed place on time. When you struck the match to light your cigar I saw it was the face of the man wanted in Chicago. Somehow I couldn't do it myself, so I went around and got a plain clothes man to do the job. JIMMY.” (pg 2) The theme of betrayal then began to become more prominent and left the reader shocked. The sincere, big hearted Bob was a wanted criminal and his beloved Jimmy Wells was the one to conduct his arrest.
O’ Henry mastered the theme of betrayal through suspense and unlike many authors he left the theme to unravel itself as he himself misguided the reader, as he turned a pleasant story about to old acquaintances keeping a promise to one another, to a tale of deceit and betrayal.
Being betrayed by one you trust is very heartbreaking, the stir of emotions that one feels in the moment of betrayal is usually very hard to capture, unless you are in the predicament yourself, but through literature the reader is invited to experience these multiple emotions without going through the heart wrenching experience. O. Henry‘s After Twenty years, blindfolds the reader throughout the story, not giving a hint on the amount of betrayal that is on the way to come.
O. Henry masters the theme of betrayal because throughout the story O’ henry almost betrays the reader himself, by taking the story on an unexpected journey. The protagonist Bob is awaiting an old friend while waiting he speaks to the Policeman; he is not concerned about conversing with the Policeman, even though he is a wanted criminal. “I came a thousand miles to stand in this door to-night, and it's worth it if my old partner turns up."(pg 1) Bob honored Jimmy and his friendship, by traveling miles just to be in the company of Jimmy. O. Henry depicted a feeling of camaraderie to the reader. “We agreed that night that we would meet here again exactly twenty years from that date and time, no matter what our conditions might be or from what distance we might have to come. (pg 1) Henry then paints a vivid picture of Bob, as a caring friend and a man of his word. Jimmy’s character is built by Bob’s descriptions “He was one of the truest, stanchest old chap in the world.” The reader then begins to anticipate the arrival of Bob’s friend.
O. Henry uses setting to foreshadow of trouble yet to come as “the wind had risen from its uncertain puffs into a steady blow. Few foot passengers astir in that quarter hurried dismally and silently along with coat collars turned high and pocketed hands.”(pg 2). “A tall man in a long overcoat, with collar turned up to his ears, hurried across from the opposite side of the street.” Henry holds the factor of suspense as he uses subtle details to continue to paint the picture of the mysterious Jimmy Wells. When Bob finally was reunited with Jimmy, a mood of tranquility was depicted as the two were united and “started up the street, arm in arm.” (pg 2). ‘When they came into this glare each of them turned simultaneously to gaze upon the other's face. The man from the West stopped suddenly and released his arm.
"You're not Jimmy Wells," he snapped. "Twenty years is a long time, but not long enough to change a man's nose from a Roman to a pug." (pg 2) a confused mood was introduced as the story began to take a turn for the worst. "You've been under arrest for ten minutes, 'Silky' Bob.” (pg 2) The reader then begins to develop a mix of emotions. Who did this? Why is he getting arrested? Where is Jimmy Wells? A note then delivered all the answers it stated “Bob: I was at the appointed place on time. When you struck the match to light your cigar I saw it was the face of the man wanted in Chicago. Somehow I couldn't do it myself, so I went around and got a plain clothes man to do the job. JIMMY.” (pg 2) The theme of betrayal then began to become more prominent and left the reader shocked. The sincere, big hearted Bob was a wanted criminal and his beloved Jimmy Wells was the one to conduct his arrest.
O’ Henry mastered the theme of betrayal through suspense and unlike many authors he left the theme to unravel itself as he himself misguided the reader, as he turned a pleasant story about to old acquaintances keeping a promise to one another, to a tale of deceit and betrayal.
Journal 4B
Silent screams, lonely thoughts, deep despair was what she felt as she seen him walk through the door with his black duffel bag and suitcase. His shirt was dishoveled and lipstick decorated the rim. As he turned around and looked at her one more time, she slammed the door and began to weep, she trusted himand he betrayed her, she loved him but that no longer mattered because she knew she deserved more, but he didn't. " I'd have to do it myself" she said while taking out a black shiny object out of a small shoesbox. But little did she know that he was standing behind her with the same goal in mind. They began to play tug of war, as the two fought for their life, the gun shot, fired and she dropped to the floor, he bent down and took the gun out her hand, realizing she was dead. His mouth dropped, his hands began to shake, and he took a few steps toward the door, the BB gun he got her for Christmas fell to the floor.
Journal 4A
The cries of roosters echoed through the neighborhood, alarm clocks began to ring in chorus. Lights began to flicker on, and groans were heard throughout the neighborhood. Isabella crept over to her new born baby brothers, while the voices argued.
“You see the book on the table Isabella, pick it up and hit him.” The first stated.
“Isabella, go back to bed sweetie right now!” the second one argued.
Young Isabella shook her head trying to make the voices stop at a tender age of five; she did not understand exactly what was happening to her. Isabella suffered from schizophrenia; her parents had no clue of her medical illness and blamed her weird behavior on her age. Kids her age always talked about their imaginary friends, they figured.
“Do it Isabella! Hit him! You’re a bad girl” the voice screamed.
Isabella could not resist the voice any longer; she crept over to the mahogany nightstand and grabbed the book labeled Nighttime stories, not big enough to drape the crib. Isabella shoved the book between the rims of the cradle, wakening up a sleeping Adam. Adam cried out and Isabella stood still, Ms. McCain ran in a fast as she could.
“Isabella what are you doing out of your bed? How did you get here.” She asked.
“I missed Adam mommy.” Isabella replied.
“How sweet hunny, but next time you want to see your brother you have t ask me to take you ok?”
“Alright mommy, Mrs. McCain walked her daughter back to room and tucked her into her twin sized bed, laying a kiss upon her forehead. She walked down the hallway, and climbed into her own bed greeted by Mr. McCain who was awake reading the newspaper.
“Honey, do you notices Isabella’s strange behavior?”
“Kind of, but she’s fives years old, she’s supposed to act a little strange. We all did honey.” He replied
“No, its just that when I came into Adam’s room, she was just standing there Phil, She did something, I know she did. Why would Adam cry randomily.”
“You’re over exaggerating Meg; Isabella’s fine, just get ready for work.” He replied.
Before Meg could continue to support her case the doorbell rang, it was Margarita the baby sitter; she was always early which the McCain’s were grateful for because it allowed them to both get dress for work without having to worry about Isabella and Adam.
“Margarita,” Mrs.Mccain whispered. Please keep your eye on Isabella she’s been acting weird lately.
“I will Senorita Margarita, you have a nice day at work,” she said copening the door so the McCain’s could leave without being late for work.
“Ay dios mio, thank god they left.” She muttered, while flopping down in the recliner chair and flicking the channels to her favorite novella Christina.
In her room Isabella, was awoken by the voices again. She reached for her favorite plush toy Benjamin.
“Put it down!” the voice demanded.
“No, it’s mine!” Isabella screamed.
“Put it down Isabella, or I’m going to make you get rid of it.”
“No please, please.” The little girl whimpered, her hands began to shake and tears rolled down her cheek. She reached for the only comfort she had which was Benjamin, little did she know it was her biggest mistake. Millions of ants began crawled up Isabella’s legs, biting her with each crawl. Isabella screamed at the top of her lungs and an angry Margarita marched in her room.
“Senorita estupida!” she yelled a phrase that was well to common to Isabella’s ears. Grabbing her by her shirt she pulled her into the kitchen where the red chair awaited for her. Isabella dreaded the chair, when Margarita was around it was way to familiar. Isabella began cry, she wanted her mother to come home so she could be in her arms, but the voices had other plans.
“Look at the stove Isabella, you see that tea kettle on the stove, its red and shiny?” the voice said
Isabella’s eyes darted to the stove, the flickering lights of the flame under called out to her. She knew mommy never allowed her to touch the stove, but it looked so inviting.
“Get the rag, Isabella its draped over the chair, now throw it in the fire.” the voice demanded.
Isabella threw the rag in the fire , and watched as the fire grew. Margarita pushed her way through the kitchen to Isabella, while Isabella watched what she had created, a smirk swept across her face.
Mission accomplished.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Journal 3A
“Katie, what are you doing?” Brent said to his wife of ten years.
“Im letting go of the past, she’s not come back Brent".
We will find her Katie, please lets not get into this conversation again, let’s just wait.” he pleaded. “
What am I supposed to do Brent? Wait for my new born baby just to appear back in my arms? Wait for her to come into our life again? Wait for the police to actually do their job? It’s been four months! , Four long god damn months, I’m tired of waiting, Brent I’m tired !”
Fighting back tears Katie continued arranging the shoes into a large brown box. Shoes with price tags, flowers, and tiny farm animals. Unable to see this anymore, Brent grabbed her arm,
“We did not agree to this Katie, everything was supposed to go but not these.”
“She wasn’t supposed to go either Brent but she did.” she whispered, collapsing onto the dusty floor of their garage.
Brent could no longer see his wife in pain and quickly grabbed her in his arms. “We’ll be alright, I promise, let’s go inside honey.”
“What about the garage sale? Katie whispered.
“We’ll deal with that another day.”
Shutting off the lights, and closing the garage door, the couple slowly went up the stairs.
Outside a small crumpled piece of paper danced lifelessly in the wind, thrown from side to side it finally collapsed upon a mailbox.
“For Sale: Baby shoes, Never worn.”
“Im letting go of the past, she’s not come back Brent".
We will find her Katie, please lets not get into this conversation again, let’s just wait.” he pleaded. “
What am I supposed to do Brent? Wait for my new born baby just to appear back in my arms? Wait for her to come into our life again? Wait for the police to actually do their job? It’s been four months! , Four long god damn months, I’m tired of waiting, Brent I’m tired !”
Fighting back tears Katie continued arranging the shoes into a large brown box. Shoes with price tags, flowers, and tiny farm animals. Unable to see this anymore, Brent grabbed her arm,
“We did not agree to this Katie, everything was supposed to go but not these.”
“She wasn’t supposed to go either Brent but she did.” she whispered, collapsing onto the dusty floor of their garage.
Brent could no longer see his wife in pain and quickly grabbed her in his arms. “We’ll be alright, I promise, let’s go inside honey.”
“What about the garage sale? Katie whispered.
“We’ll deal with that another day.”
Shutting off the lights, and closing the garage door, the couple slowly went up the stairs.
Outside a small crumpled piece of paper danced lifelessly in the wind, thrown from side to side it finally collapsed upon a mailbox.
“For Sale: Baby shoes, Never worn.”
Kayla Ross
College Essay
"The World is my stage"
“Five minutes left kids”, it was my very first time as an Italian boy in the 18th century, and my palms began to sweat as the scramble for shoes began. It was the survival of the fittest and you would pay the price if you didn’t meet the quota. Feet hustled by me, while I seemed to be the only thing standing still. That was my very first time getting dressed for a show at the Metropolitan Opera. It was a transition from the rusty swing sets I swung on, the sandbox I played in and the hopscotch games I was so accustomed to winning. I was now thrown into a world I was very unfamiliar with, but one that would shape everything I stand and desire for which is the theatre.
Singing and acting in the Children’s Choir of the Metropolitan Opera shaped my appreciation for the arts and inflamed my hidden passion for acting. Kayla Ross, the seven year old from the Bronx, the only African-American girl in the room, who was always teased because of her skin color, was transformed into a different character. The warmth of the stage lights, multiple eyes peering back at me, silent cues given from stage directors and the sweet melody of the opera singers, comforted me on a weekly basis. The stage accepted me and it had no judgment. It was my home.
The Metropolitan Opera not only was a great experience, but gave me a different outlook on the world. The world became my stage as I made the transition from being an outcast to standing out. I no longer sat in the shadow as I began to view the world as my stage. I began to speak my mind on a daily basis, becoming more socially involved with my peers and began to act how I pleased regardless of opposition. My new outlook was present in all aspects of my life, primarily in school. My classmates were the first to witness my transformation. When they pestered me, I now replied with “Is that the best you got?”, “Is that all?” They were stunned, and realized that in front of them no longer stood the Kayla Ross that they once knew, but a more confident and outspoken Kayla.
I continue to stay true to myself and I never allow my voice to quiver. I love putting smiles on people’s faces and believe I can obtain anything I want to, the world is my stage.
College Essay
"The World is my stage"
“Five minutes left kids”, it was my very first time as an Italian boy in the 18th century, and my palms began to sweat as the scramble for shoes began. It was the survival of the fittest and you would pay the price if you didn’t meet the quota. Feet hustled by me, while I seemed to be the only thing standing still. That was my very first time getting dressed for a show at the Metropolitan Opera. It was a transition from the rusty swing sets I swung on, the sandbox I played in and the hopscotch games I was so accustomed to winning. I was now thrown into a world I was very unfamiliar with, but one that would shape everything I stand and desire for which is the theatre.
Singing and acting in the Children’s Choir of the Metropolitan Opera shaped my appreciation for the arts and inflamed my hidden passion for acting. Kayla Ross, the seven year old from the Bronx, the only African-American girl in the room, who was always teased because of her skin color, was transformed into a different character. The warmth of the stage lights, multiple eyes peering back at me, silent cues given from stage directors and the sweet melody of the opera singers, comforted me on a weekly basis. The stage accepted me and it had no judgment. It was my home.
The Metropolitan Opera not only was a great experience, but gave me a different outlook on the world. The world became my stage as I made the transition from being an outcast to standing out. I no longer sat in the shadow as I began to view the world as my stage. I began to speak my mind on a daily basis, becoming more socially involved with my peers and began to act how I pleased regardless of opposition. My new outlook was present in all aspects of my life, primarily in school. My classmates were the first to witness my transformation. When they pestered me, I now replied with “Is that the best you got?”, “Is that all?” They were stunned, and realized that in front of them no longer stood the Kayla Ross that they once knew, but a more confident and outspoken Kayla.
I continue to stay true to myself and I never allow my voice to quiver. I love putting smiles on people’s faces and believe I can obtain anything I want to, the world is my stage.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
We were texting back and forth
I texted randomly
But you don’t want to feel for me you put up a fight
He texted back ignorance ?
I said No frontantial drift
from there we texted words back and forth.. and from those word
I created a this poem.
When you feed my creativity , you trigger a disastric lunch
But you don’t want to feel for me you put up a fight
Ignorance?
No frontanial drift
Exponential difference
We have Continental Shift
Now open there’s potential valibility
You only had substantial presence
You had to keep your
Artistic Integrity .. It created the space between you and me.
But I had to keep my educational stability
Recreational Affiliation only made me fear you and me , I was a past time now
we have Regional discrepancy
I guess that’s the end of you and me
I texted randomly
But you don’t want to feel for me you put up a fight
He texted back ignorance ?
I said No frontantial drift
from there we texted words back and forth.. and from those word
I created a this poem.
When you feed my creativity , you trigger a disastric lunch
But you don’t want to feel for me you put up a fight
Ignorance?
No frontanial drift
Exponential difference
We have Continental Shift
Now open there’s potential valibility
You only had substantial presence
You had to keep your
Artistic Integrity .. It created the space between you and me.
But I had to keep my educational stability
Recreational Affiliation only made me fear you and me , I was a past time now
we have Regional discrepancy
I guess that’s the end of you and me
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Journal #2
Millions of feet stampeded through the big brown doors, rusty swing sets that were once empty now upholding two children at a time. “I’m going to get you’s!” and “You’re it’s” echoed through the yard. Lunch boxes grips loosened in return for a space on the bright orange monkey bars. I scuffled around with a trash bag picking up an apple in my path and luckily stumbling upon a juice box. I could hear my heart beating in my ear drums, almost successfully drowning out the cries of my stomach. “Shut up, be strong now”, I whispered to it. Our conversation quickly came to a halt by a sharp pain in my neck, by my foot lay the rock that was thrown, and I immediately regretted entering the yard. “Smelly Rachel, Leave our school nobody likes you!” the red haired boy said. “Yeah leave Ugly!” others echoed. Tears began to stream down my cheeks every teardrop burning more than the other. I ran toward the red doors that read “Bathroom”, doors that never rejected me.
Girls Rule! was inscribed in the bathroom stalls a sign my eyes were too familiar with. These stalls were my shelter, before school and after, protecting me from the dangers that lurked outside them, the main one being hands. Hands that hit, punched and shove, hands that pointed and scorned, hands that blocked the sun, hands that clenched my dreams, hands that I were accustomed to. Pulled from my thoughts, I heard a knock on the door.
“Are you in there Rachel?” through the cracks of the stall stood a pigtail. It began to sway back and forth. “I know you're in there, do you need any help? Why aren’t you answering me? “
“Leave! I don’t need your help, have you came to make fun of me also?” I responded.
“Come out Rachel, or I’m going to get a teacher.” the pig tail was still visible.
I peeked out the door, and a brunette haired girl appeared before me. She wore overalls, ones that were decorated with food she had eaten during lunch. She had on pink sneakers that were covered in dirt that complimented the dirt that covered her palms.
“I heard what those kids said to you, Are they the reasons you have those scars?” she asked, peering down at my legs. “No” I replied,tugging at my dress trying to hide what I thought was well hidden.
“Well, my name is Megan, and nobody messes with any of my friends around here”, she put her arm around my shoulder, an action that was unfamiliar to me. She then smiled at me, revealing a mouth full of crooked teeth and gaps, teeth that would be looked down upon and recommended for change, but to me , Megan's smile was perfection.
Girls Rule! was inscribed in the bathroom stalls a sign my eyes were too familiar with. These stalls were my shelter, before school and after, protecting me from the dangers that lurked outside them, the main one being hands. Hands that hit, punched and shove, hands that pointed and scorned, hands that blocked the sun, hands that clenched my dreams, hands that I were accustomed to. Pulled from my thoughts, I heard a knock on the door.
“Are you in there Rachel?” through the cracks of the stall stood a pigtail. It began to sway back and forth. “I know you're in there, do you need any help? Why aren’t you answering me? “
“Leave! I don’t need your help, have you came to make fun of me also?” I responded.
“Come out Rachel, or I’m going to get a teacher.” the pig tail was still visible.
I peeked out the door, and a brunette haired girl appeared before me. She wore overalls, ones that were decorated with food she had eaten during lunch. She had on pink sneakers that were covered in dirt that complimented the dirt that covered her palms.
“I heard what those kids said to you, Are they the reasons you have those scars?” she asked, peering down at my legs. “No” I replied,tugging at my dress trying to hide what I thought was well hidden.
“Well, my name is Megan, and nobody messes with any of my friends around here”, she put her arm around my shoulder, an action that was unfamiliar to me. She then smiled at me, revealing a mouth full of crooked teeth and gaps, teeth that would be looked down upon and recommended for change, but to me , Megan's smile was perfection.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
21 +
Drinking
Parties
Hangovers
Dating
Boyfriend
Misery
Cheating
Deceit
Lies
Tears
Cookie Dough
Break Up music
Apologies
Hallmark Cards
Flowers
Voicemails
To Late
IHOP
Pancakes
Syrup
Butter
Hot coco
Winter
Peacoats
Scarfs
Bus stop
Cold
Pushing
Yelling
Delays
Late
Bad looks
Bad grades
Angry Parent
Scorning
Shameful
Missed oppurtunities
Laguardia
More friends
Less headache
Better grades
Theater
Lights
Attention
Retakes
Script Memorizing
Improvising
Creativity
Laughs
Different Roles
New person
Comedy
Smiles
Good time
Better soul
Drinking
Parties
Hangovers
Dating
Boyfriend
Misery
Cheating
Deceit
Lies
Tears
Cookie Dough
Break Up music
Apologies
Hallmark Cards
Flowers
Voicemails
To Late
IHOP
Pancakes
Syrup
Butter
Hot coco
Winter
Peacoats
Scarfs
Bus stop
Cold
Pushing
Yelling
Delays
Late
Bad looks
Bad grades
Angry Parent
Scorning
Shameful
Missed oppurtunities
Laguardia
More friends
Less headache
Better grades
Theater
Lights
Attention
Retakes
Script Memorizing
Improvising
Creativity
Laughs
Different Roles
New person
Comedy
Smiles
Good time
Better soul
Saturday, September 12, 2009
You're not invited for lunch. #1B
Things that ruin lunch :
1. Being lied to : it angers me when someone lies to my face, if I give you the common respect to be honest with you I expect the same.
2. Broken promises: In my life , many people have promised to do certain things for me or with me , Im shattered when the person doesn't keep their word.
3. Stereotypes: Stereotypes "sets a bar" and makes a profile on how a person should act simply because of their appearance or gender, it allows judgment to be placed on a person and denies first impression.
4. Pessimists : I tend to run on optimistic feul , and when a pessimists is in my passenger seat , their negative outlooks tend to affect my personal thinking. I tend to avoid pessimists at all times.
5. The Close minded: Close minded people I feel tend to sometimes take life for granted. They shun out new experiences and shun out idea that aren't familiar.
6. Fake people: It annoys me when people act one way in front of a person then acts a certain way in front of their face. Say what's real.
7. Followers : People who dont make their own decisions.
Why lunch may be canceled (Afraid of )
1. Not being able to fulfill my goals because of financial reasons or other restrictions.
2. Being on this earth , and not impacting someones life in any type of way.
3. Being alone forever or dieing alone
4. Growing old and not being able to say I have experienced the seven wonders.
5. Seeing my loved ones die
6. Being unsatisfied with my life.
7. Loosing my sense of humor
8.Loving and not being loved back
9. Exposing my weaknesses and being token advantage of
Things you have to bring with you to lunch ;
1. Blackberry
2. Any type of fashion magazine
3. Victoria Secret Lip gloss
4. Camera
5. UO or H&M Gift card
6. Cookie Dough Ice cream
7. The Notebook or Gone with the Wind DVD
Things I wish had NEVER been said
1. Kayla your to insensitive.
2. I really don't want to talk to you right now
3. You have the biggest mouth
4. You can't play with us because of your skin >
Things that changed me :
1. Experiencing pettiness from teachers. > Mrs. R accusing me of talking about her
2. Being drained of my personality , by people around me > having a best friend who mimicked my every move
3. Being betrayed by people who thought loved me> having my dad say all those bad things about me
,4. Realizing that I only truly have myself in this world
5. Expecting people not to lie and hurt me > past boyfriends lying and not being there
Things that make me cry
1. The Notebook
2. Titanic
3. Heartbreak
4. Stressed > To much negative things going
5. Being deceived
6. Told im not good enough >
7. Remarks by adults >
Things I hope I never see
1.My mother die
2. The world end
3. Someone get killed
Things I love to eat
1.Cookie Dough Ice Cream
2.Louisiana Crunch Cake
3.Crab Legs
4.Shrimp
5.Garlic Bread
Things I don’t believe in
1.Blindly following religion
2.Santa Claus
3.Toothfairy
Things to DVR while your at Lunch
1.The 70s Show
2.The Real World
3.Family Guy
4. Real Chance of Love
I wish you never exsisted
1.Homework
2.Mandatory School all 5 days a week
3 Diseases
4. Poverty
5. Mosquitoes
6.Slavery
When it rains on lunch:
1. I stay in doors
2.Play monopoly
3.Talk on the phone
Things I would do If I won the lottery:
1.Buy a house
2.Close down a movie theater for me and my friends
3.Get a recording studio
4.Roll around in a tub of movie
Things I would want to win a award for :
1.Best Actress of All time
2.Most Courageous
3.Funniest
4.Leadership Skills
Things that irritate me on the train :
1.The sniffles- Guy sitting next to me , and started to put vicks in his nose
2.People who don't cover their mouths- In Chipotles, guy with the glasses starts to cough all on me
3.Squeezing into small places- Women squeezing into the three seater seat with me against the pole
Things I like to wake up to in the morning:
1.Text Messages from my friends- Erma or Seemore Texting me to get up
2.Pancakes- ihop very fluffy and delicious
3.The Sun- When my shades are up and my room is clean
Wierd Moments I remember of my Childhood:
1.My first kiss at age 5- Sitting on the bench playing house, while Jared acted like he just came home from "work" and kissed me
2.Being in my babysitters house- Having her tell me to pick up the falling baby
3.Jumping on the bed- Dad hitting me on the back of my legs and leaving when I didnt stop , I cried for hours
4.Crying for pizza hut- Always craving pizza hut and having dad tell me to bequiet and go to sleep
5.Treating my cat like a dog- Putting a leash around Shandy's neck trying to get her to run with me =[
Drinks I would'nt mind drinking forever:
1.Iced Tea - Filling my cup up with Iced Tea on the Cruise
2.Pina Coloda - Pouring the Coco Lopez in the blender
3.Warm Chocolate Milk- In philadelphia ordering the best chocolate milk with my pancakes
4.Minute Maid Tropical Punch- Mom always gives it to me with the best food.
Objects I think come alive at night:
1.Dolls- Swearing the my dolls eyes blinged
2.Toaster- Disney movie the appliances were talking to each other
3.Fridge
Things I have the worst problem remembering
1.Birthdates- My aunt's Cheryl's face when she talked about how I forgot
2.Places I have to be- Student Council when my phone didnt remind me
3.Things I HAVE to do- Mom's face when I came home
Things I would change about my family
1.Parents Married- Mothers closed invitations
2.Brothers and Sisters-"Miracle on 34Street when the little girl opens her magazine"
3.Larger- Thanksgiving with my small family huddled around the tv , waiting for mom
4.More together - Me inside on my phone while Jazz and others are talking outside.
5.Family all in one place-Khaliq in California .
Things I admire about people.
1.Sense of style- Rihanna and her mohawk haircut
2.Strong Opinions-Al when he says wahts on his mind no matter how hard it is.
3.Able to Overcome obastacles- Watching Ahmistad in the 9th grade.
Things I wish I never quit
1.The Metropolitan Opera - Elena the choir director , was very strict she yelled and scared me.
2.Piano Lessons- Hating wednesday piano lessons, never practiced at home always showed
3.Ballet-Jumping over the black bag that used to be in the middle of the room
Things I want people to say and actually mean
1.I love you - Daniel would say it all the time and not mean it
2.I'll never leave you - My best friend Eric promises to always be there
3.I'll never hurt you- Big Starbucks , sitting on the sidewalk listening to him repeatedly try and fix us .
Things I wish I had the heart to say
1. I dont think we should be friends anymore - When I stopped talking to my friend out of the blue and I ran away from her at recess
2.You are annoying me go away- When K kept on following me and trying to talk to me
3.Your story is pointless bequiet- Talking and talking with his hand on my shoulder , I felt like chopping my ears off.
1. Being lied to : it angers me when someone lies to my face, if I give you the common respect to be honest with you I expect the same.
2. Broken promises: In my life , many people have promised to do certain things for me or with me , Im shattered when the person doesn't keep their word.
3. Stereotypes: Stereotypes "sets a bar" and makes a profile on how a person should act simply because of their appearance or gender, it allows judgment to be placed on a person and denies first impression.
4. Pessimists : I tend to run on optimistic feul , and when a pessimists is in my passenger seat , their negative outlooks tend to affect my personal thinking. I tend to avoid pessimists at all times.
5. The Close minded: Close minded people I feel tend to sometimes take life for granted. They shun out new experiences and shun out idea that aren't familiar.
6. Fake people: It annoys me when people act one way in front of a person then acts a certain way in front of their face. Say what's real.
7. Followers : People who dont make their own decisions.
Why lunch may be canceled (Afraid of )
1. Not being able to fulfill my goals because of financial reasons or other restrictions.
2. Being on this earth , and not impacting someones life in any type of way.
3. Being alone forever or dieing alone
4. Growing old and not being able to say I have experienced the seven wonders.
5. Seeing my loved ones die
6. Being unsatisfied with my life.
7. Loosing my sense of humor
8.Loving and not being loved back
9. Exposing my weaknesses and being token advantage of
Things you have to bring with you to lunch ;
1. Blackberry
2. Any type of fashion magazine
3. Victoria Secret Lip gloss
4. Camera
5. UO or H&M Gift card
6. Cookie Dough Ice cream
7. The Notebook or Gone with the Wind DVD
Things I wish had NEVER been said
1. Kayla your to insensitive.
2. I really don't want to talk to you right now
3. You have the biggest mouth
4. You can't play with us because of your skin >
Things that changed me :
1. Experiencing pettiness from teachers. > Mrs. R accusing me of talking about her
2. Being drained of my personality , by people around me > having a best friend who mimicked my every move
3. Being betrayed by people who thought loved me> having my dad say all those bad things about me
,4. Realizing that I only truly have myself in this world
5. Expecting people not to lie and hurt me > past boyfriends lying and not being there
Things that make me cry
1. The Notebook
2. Titanic
3. Heartbreak
4. Stressed > To much negative things going
5. Being deceived
6. Told im not good enough >
7. Remarks by adults >
Things I hope I never see
1.My mother die
2. The world end
3. Someone get killed
Things I love to eat
1.Cookie Dough Ice Cream
2.Louisiana Crunch Cake
3.Crab Legs
4.Shrimp
5.Garlic Bread
Things I don’t believe in
1.Blindly following religion
2.Santa Claus
3.Toothfairy
Things to DVR while your at Lunch
1.The 70s Show
2.The Real World
3.Family Guy
4. Real Chance of Love
I wish you never exsisted
1.Homework
2.Mandatory School all 5 days a week
3 Diseases
4. Poverty
5. Mosquitoes
6.Slavery
When it rains on lunch:
1. I stay in doors
2.Play monopoly
3.Talk on the phone
Things I would do If I won the lottery:
1.Buy a house
2.Close down a movie theater for me and my friends
3.Get a recording studio
4.Roll around in a tub of movie
Things I would want to win a award for :
1.Best Actress of All time
2.Most Courageous
3.Funniest
4.Leadership Skills
Things that irritate me on the train :
1.The sniffles- Guy sitting next to me , and started to put vicks in his nose
2.People who don't cover their mouths- In Chipotles, guy with the glasses starts to cough all on me
3.Squeezing into small places- Women squeezing into the three seater seat with me against the pole
Things I like to wake up to in the morning:
1.Text Messages from my friends- Erma or Seemore Texting me to get up
2.Pancakes- ihop very fluffy and delicious
3.The Sun- When my shades are up and my room is clean
Wierd Moments I remember of my Childhood:
1.My first kiss at age 5- Sitting on the bench playing house, while Jared acted like he just came home from "work" and kissed me
2.Being in my babysitters house- Having her tell me to pick up the falling baby
3.Jumping on the bed- Dad hitting me on the back of my legs and leaving when I didnt stop , I cried for hours
4.Crying for pizza hut- Always craving pizza hut and having dad tell me to bequiet and go to sleep
5.Treating my cat like a dog- Putting a leash around Shandy's neck trying to get her to run with me =[
Drinks I would'nt mind drinking forever:
1.Iced Tea - Filling my cup up with Iced Tea on the Cruise
2.Pina Coloda - Pouring the Coco Lopez in the blender
3.Warm Chocolate Milk- In philadelphia ordering the best chocolate milk with my pancakes
4.Minute Maid Tropical Punch- Mom always gives it to me with the best food.
Objects I think come alive at night:
1.Dolls- Swearing the my dolls eyes blinged
2.Toaster- Disney movie the appliances were talking to each other
3.Fridge
Things I have the worst problem remembering
1.Birthdates- My aunt's Cheryl's face when she talked about how I forgot
2.Places I have to be- Student Council when my phone didnt remind me
3.Things I HAVE to do- Mom's face when I came home
Things I would change about my family
1.Parents Married- Mothers closed invitations
2.Brothers and Sisters-"Miracle on 34Street when the little girl opens her magazine"
3.Larger- Thanksgiving with my small family huddled around the tv , waiting for mom
4.More together - Me inside on my phone while Jazz and others are talking outside.
5.Family all in one place-Khaliq in California .
Things I admire about people.
1.Sense of style- Rihanna and her mohawk haircut
2.Strong Opinions-Al when he says wahts on his mind no matter how hard it is.
3.Able to Overcome obastacles- Watching Ahmistad in the 9th grade.
Things I wish I never quit
1.The Metropolitan Opera - Elena the choir director , was very strict she yelled and scared me.
2.Piano Lessons- Hating wednesday piano lessons, never practiced at home always showed
3.Ballet-Jumping over the black bag that used to be in the middle of the room
Things I want people to say and actually mean
1.I love you - Daniel would say it all the time and not mean it
2.I'll never leave you - My best friend Eric promises to always be there
3.I'll never hurt you- Big Starbucks , sitting on the sidewalk listening to him repeatedly try and fix us .
Things I wish I had the heart to say
1. I dont think we should be friends anymore - When I stopped talking to my friend out of the blue and I ran away from her at recess
2.You are annoying me go away- When K kept on following me and trying to talk to me
3.Your story is pointless bequiet- Talking and talking with his hand on my shoulder , I felt like chopping my ears off.
Friday, September 11, 2009
3 min Appetizer ( Journal Entry 1A ) Freewrite.
It's 8am , "Im late, I'm late".
Shoes on the sidewalk. Red pumps, black tie-ups , flip flops, flats. "Is that Kayla Ross?" a girl in her mid - twenties loudly asks her friend. People then start to look in my direction , I try to ignore the multiple gazes. I knew I arrived all those mini-series and stage play finally paid off. I entered the red doors , that read Actors enter here. On the set doughnuts awaited me and before I could even taste the doughy substance I was greeted by a tall slim figure. "Darling , you are late. You have twenty minutes to re-memorize the new act four , and atleast five minutes for make up and dressing." Before I could utter out a response, I was thrown into a chair with bronzer and blush greeting me. Would I be able to pull this one off ? Was I prepared for the theater ? Am I not fit out for this fast pace environment ?
Shoes on the sidewalk. Red pumps, black tie-ups , flip flops, flats. "Is that Kayla Ross?" a girl in her mid - twenties loudly asks her friend. People then start to look in my direction , I try to ignore the multiple gazes. I knew I arrived all those mini-series and stage play finally paid off. I entered the red doors , that read Actors enter here. On the set doughnuts awaited me and before I could even taste the doughy substance I was greeted by a tall slim figure. "Darling , you are late. You have twenty minutes to re-memorize the new act four , and atleast five minutes for make up and dressing." Before I could utter out a response, I was thrown into a chair with bronzer and blush greeting me. Would I be able to pull this one off ? Was I prepared for the theater ? Am I not fit out for this fast pace environment ?
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Putting down the tablecloth.
Goals to accomplish in English 12 ;
This year I will expand my vocabulary base , confronting unfamiliar words and challenging myself to USE them on a day to day basis.
I will take advantage of due dates as soon as they are given making sure to allow myself a week or more time to complete and revise any written materials.
Make sure to maintain a 90+ and arrive to class on time, ready to learn.
Not only will I stick to boring explanations , I will learn different ways to play with words and unique techniques to grasp a reader into my pieces.
I will not allow my voice to shiver in classes , raising my hand and giving my opinion when it is needed .
Most importantly I will leave english 12 a better writer along with pieces I will have forever.
This year I will expand my vocabulary base , confronting unfamiliar words and challenging myself to USE them on a day to day basis.
I will take advantage of due dates as soon as they are given making sure to allow myself a week or more time to complete and revise any written materials.
Make sure to maintain a 90+ and arrive to class on time, ready to learn.
Not only will I stick to boring explanations , I will learn different ways to play with words and unique techniques to grasp a reader into my pieces.
I will not allow my voice to shiver in classes , raising my hand and giving my opinion when it is needed .
Most importantly I will leave english 12 a better writer along with pieces I will have forever.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)