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.