Life's decisions

So I know class is out and we don't have to write these blogs anymore. However, if there is one thing I want to keep it is my communication with my classmates, teacher, and friends. Writing these blogs actually were very fun. In a way it has caused me to think differently about letting others read what I have to say. Don't worry I'm not going to preach or be boring, I promise. I do want to put my thoughts on real issues, funny moments in my life, and heartfelt happenings out there. The whole point is if 1 person can relate to me or if I can help 1 person, I will feel accomplished. I hope others will read my blogs and respond. Any feedback will be wonderful. Constructive Criticism is allowed. So over the summer I am hoping to make new friends and do what I do the best write about life. It's going to be interesting for me to see who actually is watching and reading. I hope to hear from you all soon!

My surprise #76

This maybe the lamest blog I have ever posted, but I really am feeling the need to give thanks where thanks is due. That and my friends and family read these blog postings so I want to give them my gratitude. Recently, my roommate moved out of my house. I had almost nothing. My living room was bare, I had no cookware, no washer or dryer, NOTHING. Since I have been going to school and work I have given my sister a key to my house in case she need to borrow something or get something her kids have left there. (As a side note, names will not be changed to protect those who were involved, sorry) Well, I left work one night called my friend Tash and asked her to meet me at Wal Mart I had to get some things. Well she was more than willing and said she had to pick up a part for a dryer for her friend Tim. You will realize how dense I am the further along this story gets. So we meet up get our stuff and she leaves and goes to another store. I decided to head to the drive-in and pick up dinner for myself, my sister, and Jenn, another friend. So when I get home I am kind of confused why my friend's parents truck is in my drive way. (And no I still have not figured it out and the thought never crossed my mind.) I knew that everyone was coming over to hang out and the next day we were suppose to go get all of this stuff I needed. Well, anyways, I walk into my house and I now have a kitchen table. Odd, when I left it wasn't there. I could not walk through my hallway, because my sister, Jessi, has crame packed it full with all the stuff from my laundry room. They had brought my washer and dry and my kitchen table all to my house while I was working. The funny part they all had slipped up at one point and I never even caught on. What great friends and family I have, ah?

The Elevator #25

When I was a kid, my mom, sister, and step father were heading to see an attorney, about what I am not sure. We walked into the huge office building and over to the elevators. We were standing there waiting for one to come down and chatting amongst ourselves. When the elevator finally got to the first floor a man walked off and without thinking I walked on. Before I could jump back off or my family could get on the doors had shut. I was a little girl probably six or seven. So, of course, I did what all little girls would do. I cried. I think I pressed every button in that elevator to get me back to the floor my mother was on. After what seemed like an eternity of hysterics the elevator stopped on a floor where a woman and her son got on. She had to have seen how upset I was. She asked me where my mother was and I told her on the first floor. She got me calmed down and back to where my mother was now standing with a security guard. All I could do was run to my mother who was thanking the woman who brought me back profusely. She scalded me while hugging me telling me never to do that again. Sometimes I really wish my mind would erase that moment in time. Looking back now it is funny and kind of embarrassing. Just to answer the question: No, I am not frightened of elevators nor have I ever been since the incident. However, if you have ever seen the movie "Speed" every time I get on an elevator I silently pray some psycho is not going to bomb it. That's another story though.

Every Breathe We Take #66

At 102, which I thought I would never see, I lay in my bed surrounded by the dearest people to me. We talked as I struggled for every breathe I took. They all looked so scared. I was afraid I was going to leave them and they would not remember the significance of my long life on this earth. So I left them with something that would mean the most. It wasn't something I made up. Actually, it was a quote from my favorite movie, "Where the Heart Is". Something I lived by every day. "Our live changes with every breathe we take." I said to them.
"We have to let go of the bad times and live for the good or it will consume us like a fast spreading wild fire. Nothing in life is ever a for sure thing. We lose those we love, we fall down, and we go through hard times that some will never experience. This doesn't keep us from moving on with our lives and pushing for the excellence we strive for daily. Don't fall off the horse and stay there. Stand back up, wipe the mudd from you pants and climb back on. It's not easy being human. Why? Because we feel, we have emotion, we make mistakes putting us in positions that we pray to get out of as fast as we get in them. However, if you stick together as a family and pull those who fall back up, nothing and I mean nothing will stand in your way. It's better to take on the world as a whole then by yourself."
As I gasped for my last breathes, I hugged everyone and wished them the best of luck on the long journey they were taking. Finally, when the last person left the room. I looked up to Heaven, and said,
"I am ready to go home."
With that I closed my eyes and breathed in deep. I died October 19th, 2088 at 3:00 p.m.

Writing my Narrative (Process Writing)

How did you get started? I started writing this paper trying to think of something that would make my readers really be interested in my paper. So since reading a suspenseful. So I picked the scariest moment I could think of from my childhood.

What was going on for you as you were doing the writing? I was thinking about when the situation actually happened. I laughed during some parts of it thinking about how silly we were. Then I was asking myself questions, wondering about what actually happened. I started trying to find out about the house and seeing if I could find something about the man who died there. Unfortunately, that was a dead end. Did you feel again any of the emotions you were describing? Even though they were very faint I could feel some of what I was feeling that night. Could you see mental pictures of people and scenes? Yes, I was seeing the whole scene in my head like a movie. It really was weird how much I remembered. What didn’t you get on paper? I don't think there was anything I didn't get on paper. Did you remember things you didn’t know you knew? I have never forgot this incident. It was both scary and funny at the same time.

Compare what happened for you in the last unit where we emphasized intuition and instinct (“Don’t think about words, just see what you are describing”) and what happened for you in this unit where we gave more emphasis to conscious awareness “”Think about point of view, significance, and structure.”)

· Point of view.Were you conscious of choosing (or changing) point of view, or did it take care of itself? I think it took care of itself. Did it change or get fuzzy? This memory was very clear and concise. Why do you think this happened? I really don't know why this was as clear as it was. It wasn't life changing it was just the most interesting thing I could think of.

· Structure.Were you conscious of choosing (or changing) the structure, or did the story seem to shape itself? The story shaped itself for the most part. I really didn't make changes or alter this paper in anyway to make it seem more interesting. I just wrote about what happened. What aspect of structure caused you the greatest difficulty: the beginning, middle, or end? Getting this paper started was the hardest part. I didn't know what I was going to write about. When I got started, however, it just came together. What can you learn from the structural changes you made—or would make if you were to revise? I am not sure how I would change this paper at this point. As I read over it and make my revisions on it I am sure more things will come to me to add and remove from the paper.

· Significance.Did you know the “point” of your story before you wrote it? Once I decided what the paper was going to be about I knew what the whole point of the story would be. Did anyone see a meaning that you hadn’t seen before but which made you say, “Yes, I guess I was ‘meaning’ that without realizing it”? There was a part where I was talking about my mother and how she sleeps, when Lionel read it it kind of confused him because my mother did not wake up even when I called her name. In the paper I told about how she was a light sleeper.

Being a Writer #7

I enjoy writing. When I have something going on in my life that I can't share with others I tend to write it down on paper. Then, I throw it away. I do this because I figure once I have it out of my system I don't need to dwell on it anymore. I really have a knack for telling stories. I love to sit down and write about anything. I will tell fictional stories about people or horror stories about the crazy killer who lives next door. I have mastered how to keep my audiences attention. If I can make someone say "wow" when they are done that is what I try to do. I really do hope I can get to a point where I can make my stories more detailed and exciting. My weakness with writing is no matter what I am doing it is never good enough. I tend to read back over what I have said a million times and I can't just be satisfied with what I have done. My strengths are the subjects I write about. I can write a novel sometimes about a situation that has happened to me or something I where share a lot of thought. I find it the most frustrating when I have a good idea, I sit down to write about it, and Poof! the idea vaporizes from my thoughts. Writing is a great pleasure for me all around. When it is just me and the pen nothing else matters. Sometimes, however, I tend to write at the wrong times. If I am at work and something pops into my head I will write about it. It relaxes me and takes away the tension I am feeling at the time. If I couldn't write about the way things are going or just for fun. I would be lost. Seriously! I can't even imagine how I would spend my free time. I'd probably be the most hateful person around. There are a lot of things in my head that can't be shared with everyone.

Sleep is for the Weak. #30

When I first got out on my own my friends and I were pretty much unable to be tamed. We used to go out on a Friday night and not go to bed until Sunday. At this time I was working on the weekends so when I would stroll in my house at 4:00 a.m. I knew that I had to take a shower and be at work at 5:45 a.m. After a long night off dancing and goofing off I was tired, but I had no choice. I would go to work exhausted. No amount of caffeine could keep me awake. When I would leave work I would go home get changed and then head to a friend's house for a cookout or bonfire. We would all sit around then we would go back out for another night of dancing. at this point 24 hours with no sleep can make you goofy. I know when I am really tired I tend to giggle for no reason at all. Nonetheless, we would leave the saloon at 2:00 a.m. and head to Denny's or Steak 'n Shake. Sometimes we would just sit there for a couple of hours sometimes we would sit there until the sun came up. We hardly ever went to our own homes. Everyone would go back to someone's house and we would watch a movie or do whatever. At this point most of us have went about 48 hours with no sleep. So despite the fact that we were so tired we couldn't stand ourselves we would find something to do. Cookouts and get together at someones house was very common on a Sunday. We usually went to Joe's place and hung out there. We always had a lot of fun no matter what we did. But I loved Sunday nights when I could crawl in my bed and pass out. If you couldn't tell this was never an one time thing. It happened every weekend for years. Even though I miss those times I don't miss the no sleep thing.

The Outcast #76

He walks with his head down, never saying very much to anyone. His ideas, memories , and thoughts all bottled up in his head. Everyone around says he’s weird, however no one ever talks to him. He wears his cloths a little funny and is not in the latest fashion. He doesn’t smell like he showered lately. The kids point and laugh as he walks by. The girls whisper and the boys taunt. Yet this kid says nothing. He pretends he does not hear the horrible things they are saying about him. When he sits in the classroom he sits in back. I guess he figures the more invisible he can make himself the better he can get through the long day of school. In gym class he used to stay away from everyone. Not talking just reading a book. At lunch he would sit by himself. I could not ever put myself in that kids shoes. He didn’t have any friends and his school life was miserable. I still think about that boy. I actually met him in the 8th grade. From what I do know he was pretty much alone all of the time. His dad was a truck driver and his mother did not live with them. In 8th grade he pretty much was raising himself. I don’t know why I think of this kid. We weren’t friends. We had nothing in common except he was in my classes. To this day I never hear anything about him. He didn’t go to high school with us. The only time anything is ever mentioned is when some old friends and I get together and talk about junior high.

At last.. #75

The last time I saw my mother was fifteen years ago. I stood watching from the screened in front porch of my grand mama's home. She had been arrested by the Texas Rangers for trafficking and distributing Grade A Cocaine across the Gulf. She spent the last month in Cuba with her new boyfriend. He was an odd man. He was mean to me and my five brothers and sisters. Always chasing us out of the house saying he would "kill us all if he seen us again". I never understood what my mother seen in him. On that particular day the Rangers came for her I was holding my 10 month old sister on one hip and pulling the laundry out of the dryer. She had tried to take off running but they were waiting at the back door with riffles and handcuffs. She screamed at me to call my grand mama and get the money to bail her out. I didn't cry nor did I worry. I wanted her to go to jail. I hated her. Not because I had to solely take care of five siblings though. I hated her for not being my mother. In the past few months all she was was a stranger I would catch a glimpse of every once in a blue moon. She used to be beautiful. She had bouncy curls and and model figure, even with six kids. Now she was stringy. She looked like she had not showered for weeks and her lips were burnt from the crack pipe she smoked on a regular basis. Today is her hearing. I could not look in the eyes of the person that betrayed my family. Did she change? I'll never know. However, you can bet that even with all of what I was put through I came out to be a better person. Now I am the prosecuting attorney on her case.

The Comedian #36

"La-ooo-sa-her"! My sister is one of the funniest people I know. She is so natural at whatever new comic phrase she is saying. She knows exactly how to make everyone laugh and what hits the spot. When I cry or am angry she always know how to cheer me up. Jess can quote just about any Jim Carrey movie around. She recites Liar, Liar like no ones business. Last night, my car broke down and I was upset and stress about it. I was on the phone with my sister. Even though it was a horrible experience to be stuck at work waiting for a ride, she made light hearted comments and jokes that made me giggle, even though I was in a bad situation. Everything in life to her has a potential to be funny to her. "Oh, can you believe it!" - Jim Carrey's: Ace Ventura, When Nature Calls- She says to me this morning while I am writing my blog. She is a person who can be in a crowded place and have sarcastic or hilarious remarks to say about the food or the restaurant we are in. She doesn't have to think about what is being said. And sometimes she is my inspiration to write, be happy, or just enjoy a moment when it is not the best. When we were kids she was the practical joker. Always pulling pranks on my mom or coming up with ideas. She has a very rare talent that most comedians don't even possess.

#19 Writing About Writing

When I read this option I chuckled to myself. Not because it was funny or dumb, but because I have no clue how to write about how hard it is to write. What I can tell you is if you know something is expected out of your writing it seems like something you just can't do. However, if your free writing, whether it be poetry, rhymes, short stories, or just in your everyday journal it comes to you naturally. A secret I want to share is, be yourself no matter what you write. Forget about the grammer, format, or importance. That all comes later. Put your self there. I love to write. That is when nothing is expected of me. I spend a lot of time writing letters, poetry, lyrics, or anything I think. My willpower comes from everyday activities. If I am stressed or having a good day, it doesn't matter, I grab a pen and paper and jot it down. Even if I throw it away I was able to release that feeling. One accomplishment that I made was actually with writing. My junior year in high school we had to write a paper about something that was being debated at that time. I chose to write about the controversy with Marshall Mathers aka Eminem. A lot of media exposure he got then was about how his music promoted violence and caused young men and boys to feel certain ways toward woman. Now I listened to his music. I completely disagreed and made a very good arguement to why I had disagreed. It was a good paper. My English teacher thought so too. Enough so that she gave me an "A". The only reason I really picked that is, because I remember how much feeling, thought, and hard work went into that paper. To this day whenever I write that's what I think of.

#18 I Believe...

Everyone is unique in his/her own way. Whether it be in thought, style, likes, dislikes, or beliefs. Even though we don't agree with all beliefs, we can accomadate others. In America, we have all different types of beliefs, such as, political, religious, raising our families, or just day to day activities. I am here to share with you my versions of those beliefs. Please, without judgement, hear me out. First, where I stand on political is probably where a lot of people do. I'm a person who will not vote, but loves to critize. I seriously think politics can be a scam. It's empty promises and men with too much power spending my hard earned money. Religion. Well what I have to say about that is this. I believe in God. I was raised a Christian. However, I will not shut out other's beliefs and raisings, because I don't think it is wrong. It can actually make a great conversational piece when you get on the subject of other peoples religions. Raising a family. This one varies. Everyone does it differently. I'm not saying I don't critize this, because I would be lying. No, I don't think others should tell you how to raise your kids, but there are some lines that need to be crossed. I was brought up "Spare the rod, spoil the child". I really never got spankings growing up unless I really deserved it. I don't think you should beat your children or abuse them. However, a good swat doesn't hurt. Day to Day activities. This is just the person you are. Some people believe you get up and you are on a schedule all day. This would be me. Then, you have people like my sister, who love to "Wing it" so to say. I'm not a "Fly by the seat of my pants" type gal. I have to know what I am doing and when I am doing it. My belief is it can make you a better person. I can also cause you to be a perfectionist which I am. This blog was well thought out and changed several times. To wrap it up though. I don't believe in judging someone, because of appearence, social standards, race, or religious backgrounds. I expect that from others. Those are my beliefs.

Writing my Descriptive Paper.

Prewriting my descriptive paper was bitter sweet so to say. I could picture so much, but describing them were completely a different story. I did not know how to put into words what I was picturing. So to answer your questions: How much time did you spend prewriting, and what sorts of prewriting activities did you do? I spent a lot of my free time thinking and writing things down. I did do some, what I call a web, to get my thoughts together. What kinds of conversations did you have about this piece? In my peer response I received feedback from Jaime that really helped me when redoing my paper. How did drafting go? Drafting my paper was rough. Not because I couldn't think of anything, but because I couldn't get my hand to write exactly what I wanted it to. Did you sit in the computer lab and do it all at once, or did you write different bits in different places? I wrote bits and pieces here and there. When a thought came to my head I wrote it down. How happy are you with the product you’ve submitted? I feel ok with this last draft I wrote. Do you already know what you’re going to revise? I'm sure I will think of something that just has to be changed. How has this piece shaped you as a writer and scholar? This piece has shown me as a writer how well details can make you readers and critics really see what is going on.

The Truth, The Whole Truth #13

Hello, my name is Dani. I am 23 years old. I have two sisters, although when I was little I asked for brothers. I work full time for McDonald's Operations Resource Center. I deal with store personnel on a daily basis. I handle store procedures, such as, cook times, hold times, customer service, and important cases. My job is horrible and I hate it, even though it is easy. I don't like it mainly because it is so boring. Sitting at a desk day in and day out. I spend my free time with friends and family. Even though they can and do irritate me I still, with all my heart, love them. I have a very bad temper. I am easy to tick off and I don't let things go very easily. I tend to go over board when I get mad. I end up regretting things I have said later. I am a very truthful person and sometimes I can be too truthful. I believe no matter what you do the truth always comes out eventually. I live by that so I think twice before telling that little white lie. I don't like fake people. What I mean by this is someone who hides who they really are to make others like them. I think everyone’s individuality is what makes them interesting. I hate roses. Absolutely, despise them. I think they are corny and really overrated. I really believe common sense should be embedded to the brain when people are born. I say this because the people I deal with on a day to day basis are dumb. Seriously, how many times can a manager who gets paid more than I do ask how to make a plain cheeseburger? Generally, I like to be around people, but sometimes I like to be alone. I live my life day to day and I try not to waste a minute of it.

If only I were traveling #52

It was suppose to be the best family vacation ever! We were headed to the warm beaches of Miami. I could feel the hot sand under my feet. The sun beaming down on me and I could feel the warmth of a golden tan starting to developed. I could hear the ocean waves splashing on the shore while vacationers from children to adults splashed, laughed, and played for hours. One thing I was not told was we had to go in a car. I hate riding in cars long distances, especially, in the heat. I didn't like how my legs stuck to the seat. I felt like an ant under a magnifying glass. We loaded up in to the car. My father was driving. He looked like Maverick from Top Gun with his pilots glasses on and his white muscle t-shirt. My mother was sitting in the passenger seat with her big, yellow straw hat with a read ribbon around it, her big sunglasses with white rims, her bright red lipstick, and her red tank top that was a couple sizes too small for her. My sister sitting opposite of me with her head phones in listening to the latest music and singing along. Oh how her voice annoys me. She is too high pitched and screeches. The only sound I could relate it to is nails on a chalk board. I myself brought a book, my journal, and all of my Doors CDs. As I listened to Jim Morrison sing "Moonlight Drive" I dreamed of a drive on the beach in a 1969 Cherry Red Chevy Nova with white bucket seats and complete with all white interior. The stereo would be playing "LA Woman" as I cruised down Manhattan Beach in the middle of the night and the moon shining bright. All of the sudden I was startled back to reality by my sister's loud and obnoxious Mario Brothers video game. I couldn't understand the reason for the volume to be so loud. My mother was snoring which was more annoying. She sounded like she was sawing through a rain forest tree. I was sweating the perspiration making my legs stick to the hot leather seats of our beat up sky blue mustang. I had been in this car for what seemed like centuries. I kept asking my dad how much longer and he would respond with, "Not much" or "We're closer than ten minutes ago". By now I was ready to jump out of the car. I didn't care if we were still on the highway. My legs were cramping and I was sore all over. I tried to close my eyes, but I was so annoyed with having to sit for so many hours I could not relax. Finally, we arrived at Miami Beach. I was so overjoyed to be out of our car I jumped up and down all the way to the beach. I said to my parents, "Next time can we fly?"

What is Family? #76

Family, when that word comes to mind we think mother, father, brothers, sisters, grandmas, grandpas, etc. However, sometimes a family can consist of people you are not even related to. They are people who love you, care for you, and inspire you. My family is not of the normal sorts. Now, I have a mom, a dad, and two sisters. However, my mom, dad, and one of my sisters live in separate states. My family is my sister, her kids, my best friend, her mom, and her brother. These are people I would do anything for and vise versa. They have all taught me life lessons and shown me things I would have never known. We talk on the phone everyday and spend a lot of time together. My best friend and my sister are the two people I share everything in my world. I talk to my friend’s mom everyday. I call her my adopted mom. She really helped raise me. She teaches me new things and listens to me when I have something to say. As for the kids and my friend’s brother, they just make my life fun and interesting. We do everything from playing games to talking. This is my family. Growing up I did not have a dad around so my friend’s dad took me in. He was just like the real thing. He would discipline me, lecture, and talk to me about life. These are the people I share my hopes, wishes, and dreams. This is my family.

Never Forgotten #26

One of my most powerful memories is about my grandpa. It is one that is bitter sweet. Growing up and to this day he is my inspiration. My grandpa died 10 years ago. It is something I have yet to deal with completely. I remember the day we found out he had cancer. It was the worst feeling I have ever felt at that point in my life. I felt my whole life was being torn into pieces and I was powerless. During those months we were in and out of the hospital, sleeping on hospital floors, in waiting rooms, and hospitality houses. We would go to school and go right back. No matter how sick he was he always had some sort of lesson he had to teach someone. I remember walking into the ICU when he was admitted and holding his hand telling him I loved him and everything was going to be ok. I told him he didn’t have to suffer anymore. Even though the doctor said he was brain dead and did not know that we were there I knew different. When I would talk his eyes would open and he would squeeze my hand. The day he died my grandma had sent my sister and I to get something to eat. I remember feeling like my insides were being torn out like something bad had happened. I did not know that he had past at that point. When we arrived back at the hospital everyone was crying. I knew with no words that I had lost my hero. When we walked into the ICU room where he was it was the most horrifying sight. I had been to funerals and seen dead people, but never like this. It was unreal. I closed my eyes thinking that when I opened them the bad dream would end. Ten years later that image and time in my life is just and strong as it was then.