Only a few weeks ago, my boyfriend and I adopted a new kitten from Forgotten Felines, a program that rescues cats and kittens and helps get them adopted. We named out brand new kitten Madeline; she is a five month old, Bengal-Tabby cat mix, and she's beautiful. We were convinced that she was perfect, and had the softest, smoothest fur I had ever felt before. Like all kittens, I expected her to be a little rambunctious, and get into some things that she wasn't supposed to get into. But what I didn't expect was that my beautiful, little kitten is actually a cat from Hell. From breaking and tearing things apart, to drawing blood and showing her true wild side, Madeline is definitely the craziest cat I ever have, and will ever own.
When we brought Madeline home, we immediately discovered that she has a fascination with paper. If she gets a hold of anything paper, she will hold it between her paws and shred it to a million little pieces with her teeth. If there are any cardboard boxes laying around the house, she will find them and tear those to pieces as well. One her favorite toys, other than her play mice and jingle-balls that she has to play with, are my pretty purple curtains. She will be walking by the window going towards her food, when all of a sudden she'll turn around and pounce on the curtains, and try to climb to the top. I didn't realize how many breakable possessions I owned until I brought Madeline into my family!
My least favorite part about Madeline's upbeat personality is her "playful" aggression. One night while I was asleep, she discovered that feet were another one of her favorite things to play with. I woke up to a very sharp pain in my foot, and realized a cat was clinging to it for dear life, teeth, claws, and all. I yelled and tried to kick her off as gently as I could, which ended with five large, deep scratches on the top of my foot. Five days later, those scratches are still there, and they still hurt. Maybe it's the Bengal cat in her, but I have never had a cat who was strong enough to hold on so tightly and draw blood like Madeline did. I have had many scratches and bites from her before that incident, and since then, too.
Ever since we found out that Madeline has Bengal cat in her blood, we knew she was going to be really wild, but we have been truly surprise at some of the things that we have caught her doing. Not too long ago, I walked out of my bedroom to find her clinging, with all four paws, to the back of the couch, and just hanging there effortlessly. She can use her claws to crawl all over things, including curtains and chairs. she can run and move very fast, using her back paws a lot like the big, wild cats do.
Our cat may be destructive, vicious, and wild, but have grown to really love our "Hell Cat." She definitely adds energy to our home, and she is well worth the consequences of adopting her! As long as she stops attacking my feet at night, I think I will decide to keep her for as long as possible.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Process Essay (#7)
My palms are sweaty. So many different questions and answers are
coursing through my mind. I feel as if the people here are judging me,
or sizing me up. My breathing has accelerated from the nerves. A
life-changing event is about to occur, and I'm trying hard not to let my
panic show through. I sit down in my chair across from the person who
will choose my fate. Job interviews are a trying experience for anyone,
and anyone who has had one has probably felt like this at least their
first time around. There are many things that I have learned to do and say during my interviews that make them so much easier, and a success.
I remember my very first interview. It took place after a school day in one of the final days of my Freshman year in High School. I remember that when the last bell rang that ended the day, I was instantly in a nervous sweat. I had been dreading going to this interview all day long, and nothing that anyone had ever taught me about interviews was relevant anymore. I was so nervous, that I stood at the front desk for several minutes before I decided to tell them that I had an interview, and needed to be shown where to go. When I finally sat down with the woman who was going to interview me, my hands were visibly shaking, and I couldn't sit still. I think the woman could tell I was nervous, because she asked me if it was my first interview. Still nervous, I said yes, and she started to ask me a bunch of questions about what I would do in certain situations, and what I have accomplished so far in my life. Most of my answers took me a little while to come up with, and there was a lot of silence. I tried not to be so nervous, but no matter what I did I was still sitting there shaking, trying to catch my breath. Near the end of the interview, the lady started talking to me like any other person, and asked me what I usually do after school, and continued by talking about her granddaughter who shared my name. By the end, I wasn't so nervous, and I was able to talk to her and be myself. I learned that if you are in the mind set of talking to just a normal person, anyone that you could be talking to at school, in a store, or even a friend or family member. I just act like I'm having a conversation with someone about me and what I want, and my nerves calm down nicely!
After experiencing a couple of easy-peasy interviews, I was surprised when I went to a not so easy one, and I had a difficult time answering their questions. The interviewer started asking me questions like, "Can you think of a time where you had great customer service and your customer was extremely satisfied with you?" I find those questions difficult, because I have a hard time with self recognition. I don't want to feel like I am bragging. After the interview, I decided that it would be a good idea to think ahead about all the answers to those questions before actually entering an interview. I go back through my work history and try to remember different occurrences that stick out in my mind, and remember them to use during my interview.
My most favorite interview I have had was for a dog washing position at PetSmart. The whole interview was giving me opportunities to tell stories, talk about my feelings, and give lots of information about myself. The interviewer was an older woman who was one of those people that loves to tell stories all the time. The interview was about an hour of us talking about our past pets, our family, our experiences, and why I wanted to wash dogs. (Because dogs are so much fun to wash!!) This was the best lesson that I had ever gotten from an interview. Any chance that you can take to tell stories and talk personally with your interviewer, take the chance! I discovered that this makes them more comfortable with you as it does you with them! They're probably more likely to hire you if they have had a real discussion with you and have related to you on a personal level. This is my KEY goal in interviews now!
When I walk into an interview, I remind myself to pretend like it's a normal, every day conversation, I remember the answers to the normal interview questions, and I remember to look for any chance I can get to talk personally with my interviewer! Since I have started using these tips, and I have been hired for every job I have interviewed for, (2 so far using my tips!). But one thing you shouldn't do is ramble, which I have also found out. The interviewer may like stories, but they despise rambling. I kissed that job goodbye!
I remember my very first interview. It took place after a school day in one of the final days of my Freshman year in High School. I remember that when the last bell rang that ended the day, I was instantly in a nervous sweat. I had been dreading going to this interview all day long, and nothing that anyone had ever taught me about interviews was relevant anymore. I was so nervous, that I stood at the front desk for several minutes before I decided to tell them that I had an interview, and needed to be shown where to go. When I finally sat down with the woman who was going to interview me, my hands were visibly shaking, and I couldn't sit still. I think the woman could tell I was nervous, because she asked me if it was my first interview. Still nervous, I said yes, and she started to ask me a bunch of questions about what I would do in certain situations, and what I have accomplished so far in my life. Most of my answers took me a little while to come up with, and there was a lot of silence. I tried not to be so nervous, but no matter what I did I was still sitting there shaking, trying to catch my breath. Near the end of the interview, the lady started talking to me like any other person, and asked me what I usually do after school, and continued by talking about her granddaughter who shared my name. By the end, I wasn't so nervous, and I was able to talk to her and be myself. I learned that if you are in the mind set of talking to just a normal person, anyone that you could be talking to at school, in a store, or even a friend or family member. I just act like I'm having a conversation with someone about me and what I want, and my nerves calm down nicely!
After experiencing a couple of easy-peasy interviews, I was surprised when I went to a not so easy one, and I had a difficult time answering their questions. The interviewer started asking me questions like, "Can you think of a time where you had great customer service and your customer was extremely satisfied with you?" I find those questions difficult, because I have a hard time with self recognition. I don't want to feel like I am bragging. After the interview, I decided that it would be a good idea to think ahead about all the answers to those questions before actually entering an interview. I go back through my work history and try to remember different occurrences that stick out in my mind, and remember them to use during my interview.
My most favorite interview I have had was for a dog washing position at PetSmart. The whole interview was giving me opportunities to tell stories, talk about my feelings, and give lots of information about myself. The interviewer was an older woman who was one of those people that loves to tell stories all the time. The interview was about an hour of us talking about our past pets, our family, our experiences, and why I wanted to wash dogs. (Because dogs are so much fun to wash!!) This was the best lesson that I had ever gotten from an interview. Any chance that you can take to tell stories and talk personally with your interviewer, take the chance! I discovered that this makes them more comfortable with you as it does you with them! They're probably more likely to hire you if they have had a real discussion with you and have related to you on a personal level. This is my KEY goal in interviews now!
When I walk into an interview, I remind myself to pretend like it's a normal, every day conversation, I remember the answers to the normal interview questions, and I remember to look for any chance I can get to talk personally with my interviewer! Since I have started using these tips, and I have been hired for every job I have interviewed for, (2 so far using my tips!). But one thing you shouldn't do is ramble, which I have also found out. The interviewer may like stories, but they despise rambling. I kissed that job goodbye!
Thursday, November 8, 2012
3 iSearch Annotations
Wilson, Tracy. N.p.. Web. 8 Nov 2012.
<http://health.howstuffworks.com/skin-care/beauty/skin-and-lifestyle/tattoo.htm/printable>.
This website is very helpful if you want to know the basics of tattooing and how the ink-in-skin thing works. I liked it because it's very detailed and easy to read.
NCSL, . "Tattooing and Body Piercing." NCSL. National Conference of State Lagislatures, n.d. Web. 8 Nov 2012. <http://www.ncsl.org/issues-research/health/tattooing-and-body-piercing.aspx
This website is great for tattoo laws PER state, and I liked it because it explained why the laws went into effect in the first place.
Joseph, Peter. "The Morality of Tattoos and Vody Piercing." Latin Mass Magazine. 2002: n. page. Web. 8 Nov. 2012. <http://www.latinmassmagazine.com/articles/articles_2002_SU_Joseph.html>.
This website is a perfect example of religious views against tattoos. I believe it's completely opinionated by this Pastor.
This website is very helpful if you want to know the basics of tattooing and how the ink-in-skin thing works. I liked it because it's very detailed and easy to read.
NCSL, . "Tattooing and Body Piercing." NCSL. National Conference of State Lagislatures, n.d. Web. 8 Nov 2012. <http://www.ncsl.org/issues-research/health/tattooing-and-body-piercing.aspx
This website is great for tattoo laws PER state, and I liked it because it explained why the laws went into effect in the first place.
Joseph, Peter. "The Morality of Tattoos and Vody Piercing." Latin Mass Magazine. 2002: n. page. Web. 8 Nov. 2012. <http://www.latinmassmagazine.com/articles/articles_2002_SU_Joseph.html>.
This website is a perfect example of religious views against tattoos. I believe it's completely opinionated by this Pastor.
Process Essay Intro Graf
My palms are sweaty. So many different questions and answers are coursing through my mind. I feel as if the people here are judging me, or sizing me up. My breathing has accelerated from the nerves. A life-changing event is about to occur, and I'm trying hard not to let my panic show through. I sit down in my chair across from the person who will choose my fate. Job interviews are a trying experience for anyone, and anyone who has had one has probably felt like this at least their first time around. There are many things that you can do in order to make this experience less frightening, and there are ways to impress your interviewer without a sweat! (Well, maybe a little sweat.)
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Essay #6 (Effect Essay)
Sometimes it seems that we would go to the end of the earth for the ones that we love, and would do anything for our best friends, even if we have reservations about these things. I would do anything for my best friend, from being anywhere at anytime if she needed me, or letting her borrow my things. But sometimes, even when our friends have the best intentions, you end up losing things that are important to you. When I let my best friend borrow my car, one of the most important things in my life, and it came back totaled, it gave me second thoughts about our friendship, a huge problem with my parents, and a loss of freedom.
Not only was it a really cold, winter day, but I knew that she wasn't the best driver. When I got the call that my best friend had gotten into a "little accident" with my car, I tried my best not to get angry and ask her what the hell she was thinking, but the impending doom that was certain to come from the situation was taking over my thoughts. When my car was ruled totaled, it took all of my sanity and concentration not to lose it on my best friend. In my mind, I wanted to tell her that I couldn't forgive her after wrecking one of the biggest parts of my life, the tool I use every single day, something I need to pretty much survive. At that point in time, I didn't know what I was going to do.
The next thing I thought was "oh, crap. My parents are going to kill me." My mom especially always told me to never, ever, EVER let anyone use my car, because nothing good could ever come out of it. The condition was if they found out that anyone uses my car, it was to be taken away from me. I decided that this was more of a phone conversation, more for my safety than anything, I worked up the courage to call my mom and tell her the news. The impending doom was now actual doom. I'm very surprised that my mom did not lose her voice that day, and that I am not deaf in my right ear. To this day, I'm constantly reminded that my car is MY car, and nobody else should get behind the wheel.
Of course, since my car had been totaled, the worst thing to come from it was my loss of freedom. For months I had to depend on others for rides whenever I wanted to go anywhere. If I was bored, I had to find something to do around the house, because I couldn't go anywhere. I was harshly reminded of the boring years before my sixteenth birthday, and it was awful. For those 4 months, I did a lot of reading, surfing the internet, and endless amounts of homework.
In the end, I ended up forgiving my best friend. After all, it was only a car, and even though my car was one of the most important tools in my life, I definitely believe that having my best friend is even more important. I eventually got a new car, and my life was saved! The lesson I learned from this is quite obvious: never let anyone use your car. But the not so obvious twist to this story, is that my boyfriend drives my car almost every day. Some people don't learn, but there will always be consequences on way or another!
Not only was it a really cold, winter day, but I knew that she wasn't the best driver. When I got the call that my best friend had gotten into a "little accident" with my car, I tried my best not to get angry and ask her what the hell she was thinking, but the impending doom that was certain to come from the situation was taking over my thoughts. When my car was ruled totaled, it took all of my sanity and concentration not to lose it on my best friend. In my mind, I wanted to tell her that I couldn't forgive her after wrecking one of the biggest parts of my life, the tool I use every single day, something I need to pretty much survive. At that point in time, I didn't know what I was going to do.
The next thing I thought was "oh, crap. My parents are going to kill me." My mom especially always told me to never, ever, EVER let anyone use my car, because nothing good could ever come out of it. The condition was if they found out that anyone uses my car, it was to be taken away from me. I decided that this was more of a phone conversation, more for my safety than anything, I worked up the courage to call my mom and tell her the news. The impending doom was now actual doom. I'm very surprised that my mom did not lose her voice that day, and that I am not deaf in my right ear. To this day, I'm constantly reminded that my car is MY car, and nobody else should get behind the wheel.
Of course, since my car had been totaled, the worst thing to come from it was my loss of freedom. For months I had to depend on others for rides whenever I wanted to go anywhere. If I was bored, I had to find something to do around the house, because I couldn't go anywhere. I was harshly reminded of the boring years before my sixteenth birthday, and it was awful. For those 4 months, I did a lot of reading, surfing the internet, and endless amounts of homework.
In the end, I ended up forgiving my best friend. After all, it was only a car, and even though my car was one of the most important tools in my life, I definitely believe that having my best friend is even more important. I eventually got a new car, and my life was saved! The lesson I learned from this is quite obvious: never let anyone use your car. But the not so obvious twist to this story, is that my boyfriend drives my car almost every day. Some people don't learn, but there will always be consequences on way or another!
Friday, November 2, 2012
iSearch RESTART!
What do you want to write about? My obsession with tattoos
What do you want to find out about your topic?
The history of tattoos and how they work.
What are your questions about the topic?
Where did the idea of tattoos come from?
How were the first tattoos done?
How does the ink stay in your skin?
Why are some people against tattoos?
Subquestion?
Is it stressful for tattoo artists when they worry about how their work will come out?
Why are there tattoo age laws?
Why are they considered sinful?
Do you have to be good at all art to be good at tattooing?
Give three reasons why you like the topic:
I have a fascination with tattoos.
I'd like to know how the equipment that is being used on my skin is made.
It bothers me when people don't get jobs or are looked down upon for tattoos, so I would like to know why people think that way.
Give three ways your life might change if you answer your questions:
I'll feel more comfortable with the equipment.
I'll be able to explain to people why it isn't a bad thing to get tattoos. (Hopefully)
I'll be able to tell people cool facts that they might not know :)
BRAINSTORM
What did tattoos mean when they first came about?
What year did they originate?
Which country/culture started doing tattoos?
How were tattoos done when they first originated?
How does the ink stay in your skin?
When did the tattoo age law get put into place, and why?
What are some reasons to be against tattoos?
Why are visible tattoos a problem in professional places?
Can tattoos do damage to your body? Are they safe?
BACKGROUND
Years before I even turned 18, I had a growing interest in tattoos. I loved seeing other people's tattoos, and I loved hearing the stories about the meanings behind them. Some stories are simple or silly, such as the tattoos gotten by a girl I know, a big flower on her left side, and a coy fish on her right side, only because she wanted to cover up her stretch marks from being pregnant twice. Some stories are sad or meaningful, like the giant cross on the back of a man I know, with his passed mother's name on it, and lilies, his mother's favorite flower, laid all around it. I was always coming up with new ideas about what my first tattoo would be when I turned 18. Some of these ideas included simple things, like my favorite quote "Never regret anything that once made you smile," or maybe the Chinese symbol for "Love." More complex things, like a big, beautiful, detailed, realistic owl sitting in a tree on my back (ow, that would hurt), or a bouquet of beautiful lupines tied with ribbon, with the initials EMRK, for my passed grandmother. I constantly drew out pictures that I thought would make great tattoos that I still have, such as two doves carrying a banner that says "Always Have Faith," or this silly, comic picture of a long-necked dinosaur with no real meaning; only that it's just a silly, fun thing to do.
On December 7th, 2011, or the day that I turned 18 years old, I was immediately in a tattoo chair. My very first tattoo ended up being a piece of flash art from my favorite movie of all time, The Lion King, which was a picture Rafiki's tree drawing of Simba. This year I'll be nineteen, and I have a total of 5 tattoos, and I don't plan of stopping there
WHY I'M WRITING
On top of my love for getting tattoos, I have always wanted to know how the idea came about, and how it was done before vibrating tattoo guns and tattoo ink.
I want to know:
ISEARCH RESEARCH PLAN
I'm going to do a lot of Google research when I deal with the history part. AVOID WIKIPEDIA! I have gotten into a lot of trouble using Wikipedia before, because it provided me with incorrect information.
Use personal experiences if I end up talking about what it's like getting a tattoo or the conversations had with the artist while they're working.
I'm planning on going to local tattoo shops as well as doing some research about famous tattoo artists and asking them questions about how they got into tattooing, how they learned to tattoo, if it's stressful, and if it's hard to do.
I'm going to ask a lot of people their opinions about tattoos, including people with tattoos, people without, professionals in business where you cannot have visible tattoos, older people, parents, etc.
I don't see problems with my research. There
What do you want to find out about your topic?
The history of tattoos and how they work.
What are your questions about the topic?
Where did the idea of tattoos come from?
How were the first tattoos done?
How does the ink stay in your skin?
Why are some people against tattoos?
Subquestion?
Is it stressful for tattoo artists when they worry about how their work will come out?
Why are there tattoo age laws?
Why are they considered sinful?
Do you have to be good at all art to be good at tattooing?
Give three reasons why you like the topic:
I have a fascination with tattoos.
I'd like to know how the equipment that is being used on my skin is made.
It bothers me when people don't get jobs or are looked down upon for tattoos, so I would like to know why people think that way.
Give three ways your life might change if you answer your questions:
I'll feel more comfortable with the equipment.
I'll be able to explain to people why it isn't a bad thing to get tattoos. (Hopefully)
I'll be able to tell people cool facts that they might not know :)
BRAINSTORM
What did tattoos mean when they first came about?
What year did they originate?
Which country/culture started doing tattoos?
How were tattoos done when they first originated?
How does the ink stay in your skin?
When did the tattoo age law get put into place, and why?
What are some reasons to be against tattoos?
Why are visible tattoos a problem in professional places?
Can tattoos do damage to your body? Are they safe?
BACKGROUND
Years before I even turned 18, I had a growing interest in tattoos. I loved seeing other people's tattoos, and I loved hearing the stories about the meanings behind them. Some stories are simple or silly, such as the tattoos gotten by a girl I know, a big flower on her left side, and a coy fish on her right side, only because she wanted to cover up her stretch marks from being pregnant twice. Some stories are sad or meaningful, like the giant cross on the back of a man I know, with his passed mother's name on it, and lilies, his mother's favorite flower, laid all around it. I was always coming up with new ideas about what my first tattoo would be when I turned 18. Some of these ideas included simple things, like my favorite quote "Never regret anything that once made you smile," or maybe the Chinese symbol for "Love." More complex things, like a big, beautiful, detailed, realistic owl sitting in a tree on my back (ow, that would hurt), or a bouquet of beautiful lupines tied with ribbon, with the initials EMRK, for my passed grandmother. I constantly drew out pictures that I thought would make great tattoos that I still have, such as two doves carrying a banner that says "Always Have Faith," or this silly, comic picture of a long-necked dinosaur with no real meaning; only that it's just a silly, fun thing to do.
On December 7th, 2011, or the day that I turned 18 years old, I was immediately in a tattoo chair. My very first tattoo ended up being a piece of flash art from my favorite movie of all time, The Lion King, which was a picture Rafiki's tree drawing of Simba. This year I'll be nineteen, and I have a total of 5 tattoos, and I don't plan of stopping there
WHY I'M WRITING
On top of my love for getting tattoos, I have always wanted to know how the idea came about, and how it was done before vibrating tattoo guns and tattoo ink.
I want to know:
What were the meanings of the very first tattoos?What is the years and the origins of tattoos?How were tattoos done when they first originated?- How does the ink stay in place in your skin? Why doesn't the body reject it?
- Why did age restrictions on tattoos get put into place, and when?
- Many people think of tattoos as immoral and sinful. Why?
- Why do places of business look down upon tattoos?
- Can tattoos do damage to your body? Are they safe?
- Do tattoo artists suffer from a lot of stress from putting personal work on people's bodies?
ISEARCH RESEARCH PLAN
I'm going to do a lot of Google research when I deal with the history part. AVOID WIKIPEDIA! I have gotten into a lot of trouble using Wikipedia before, because it provided me with incorrect information.
Use personal experiences if I end up talking about what it's like getting a tattoo or the conversations had with the artist while they're working.
I'm planning on going to local tattoo shops as well as doing some research about famous tattoo artists and asking them questions about how they got into tattooing, how they learned to tattoo, if it's stressful, and if it's hard to do.
I'm going to ask a lot of people their opinions about tattoos, including people with tattoos, people without, professionals in business where you cannot have visible tattoos, older people, parents, etc.
I don't see problems with my research. There
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Example Essay (Essay #5)
Although I have been convinced my entire life that I definitely do not
have OCD, there are tendencies that I have where one would think
otherwise. There are many occasions where I have to stop what I'm doing
in order to organize something that bothers me, or times that I can't
continue what I'm doing until what I have done is perfect. There are
even times where I get frustrated with others when they don't understand
that I need to have some things a specific way, or I can't go on with
my day.
I work at a hospital in Food Service, and one of the areas of the kitchen is dedicated to putting together trays for patients. There is a cart with slots for each of the "dry" items they could get, such as salt and pepper packets, jelly packets, etc. I was walking by on my way back to work, when I noticed that someone mixed packets of honey, lemon, vinegar, and jelly all together in two different containers. I considered just walking away, but I knew that it was going to bother me for the rest of the day if I left them mixed up. So I stopped what I was working on, and I took my time to organize the condiment packets. When each item had their own, separate home, I felt comfortable getting back to work.
Another one of my OCD tendencies, not being able to continue things unless I've made something perfect, makes me an impossible writer. The whole idea of "just a rough draft" where there can be grammatical and spelling errors sounds wonderful to me, but when I begin that process of writing, I have to make sure my grammar and spelling is perfect as I go. I have a need to self-edit as I write, instead of worrying about the content and going back to the basics later. This makes my writing take forever, and it also makes my school assignments that include multiple drafts with significant changes in each impossible to achieve. But if I continue writing knowing I had an easily changeable spelling error, my brain will be stuck on that one word instead of the content I should be writing.
I have a very small apartment. For the amount of money I make, and because there are only two of us living here, it's the perfect size. When we moved in, I took the time to make everything look almost perfect. I placed everything where it wouldn't look too crowded or messy. But as it is with a good majority of men, if you live with them, you can't expect things to ever stay clean, or stay where they belong. This is the case with my boyfriend, who messes with my stuff and my OCD tendencies quite frequently. If one day he decides to have his dinner on the couch in front of the TV, he will move the coffee table up to the couch, move things off of the table, and move all the cushions around. This would be fine if he put it back how it was when he was finished, but instead, he gets up and leaves everything moved, and leaves all of his dishes and trash on the table. Out of all of my tendencies, this one drives me the most crazy. Immediately I have to put everything back, and throw things away, and wash the dishes he has left.
Now I wouldn't necessarily consider these OCD tendencies to be "bad" ones. I like to keep things clean and neat, which is a good quality in all people, especially house owners. But maybe I just think that because I don't want people to think I'm going insane... completely insane, at least! I do have to apologize a lot for it affecting what I'm doing, or for it making me take more time to do things. Hopefully one day I can break out of some of these habits, so maybe my boyfriend doesn't have to hear "Michael, clean up after yourself!" for the rest of his life!
I work at a hospital in Food Service, and one of the areas of the kitchen is dedicated to putting together trays for patients. There is a cart with slots for each of the "dry" items they could get, such as salt and pepper packets, jelly packets, etc. I was walking by on my way back to work, when I noticed that someone mixed packets of honey, lemon, vinegar, and jelly all together in two different containers. I considered just walking away, but I knew that it was going to bother me for the rest of the day if I left them mixed up. So I stopped what I was working on, and I took my time to organize the condiment packets. When each item had their own, separate home, I felt comfortable getting back to work.
Another one of my OCD tendencies, not being able to continue things unless I've made something perfect, makes me an impossible writer. The whole idea of "just a rough draft" where there can be grammatical and spelling errors sounds wonderful to me, but when I begin that process of writing, I have to make sure my grammar and spelling is perfect as I go. I have a need to self-edit as I write, instead of worrying about the content and going back to the basics later. This makes my writing take forever, and it also makes my school assignments that include multiple drafts with significant changes in each impossible to achieve. But if I continue writing knowing I had an easily changeable spelling error, my brain will be stuck on that one word instead of the content I should be writing.
I have a very small apartment. For the amount of money I make, and because there are only two of us living here, it's the perfect size. When we moved in, I took the time to make everything look almost perfect. I placed everything where it wouldn't look too crowded or messy. But as it is with a good majority of men, if you live with them, you can't expect things to ever stay clean, or stay where they belong. This is the case with my boyfriend, who messes with my stuff and my OCD tendencies quite frequently. If one day he decides to have his dinner on the couch in front of the TV, he will move the coffee table up to the couch, move things off of the table, and move all the cushions around. This would be fine if he put it back how it was when he was finished, but instead, he gets up and leaves everything moved, and leaves all of his dishes and trash on the table. Out of all of my tendencies, this one drives me the most crazy. Immediately I have to put everything back, and throw things away, and wash the dishes he has left.
Now I wouldn't necessarily consider these OCD tendencies to be "bad" ones. I like to keep things clean and neat, which is a good quality in all people, especially house owners. But maybe I just think that because I don't want people to think I'm going insane... completely insane, at least! I do have to apologize a lot for it affecting what I'm doing, or for it making me take more time to do things. Hopefully one day I can break out of some of these habits, so maybe my boyfriend doesn't have to hear "Michael, clean up after yourself!" for the rest of his life!
Example Essay Intro
Although I have been convinced my entire life that I definitely do not have OCD, there are tendencies that I have where one would think otherwise. There are many occasions where I have to stop what I'm doing in order to organize something that bothers me, or times that I can't continue what I'm doing until what I have done is perfect. There are even times where I get frustrated with others when they don't understand that I need to have some things a specific way, or I can't go on with my day.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Contrast Essay
When we were being "prepared" for college English, all we were
ever told was that college will be a lot harder than high school. You'll
have to write 100-page essays, read thousands of text book pages a
night, take notebooks full of notes every day, and read long, boring
books until your eyes dry up and fall out. After getting through high
school English, I thought college English would be a nightmare. But
because of my love for writing, I was never really afraid of it. But now
that I'm half-way through my first semester of college, I have come to
realize that there are significant differences between high school
English and college English, other than the difficulty.
In high school, English classes consisted of looking at text-books. The extent of an English class in my high school was, "Turn to this page, read this person's story, and write about your feelings." In college, even though I'm in a non-traditional online class instead of a traditional in-person class, I haven been re-introduced to the variety of things that an English class should offer, including lectures, essays, reading other people's work, brainstorming, researching, getting creative, and being given all the slack in the world to do what I want to do with my writing.
The homework assignments in my high school English classes were the equivalent of what we had done in the class. "Read Frederick Douglass's narrative and then write one paragraph telling how it made you feel." "Read the next chapter out of Of Mice and Men and write a couple of sentences telling why you think Lennie Small acted the way he did." The assignments were about things that are good to think about, and that are good knowledge to have, but they really limited our capabilities as writers, and gave high school students a really easy, but boring, way out. In this college English class, we are given a lot to think about, and new things to try, and although we are given guidelines to follow, we are very free to write about whatever WE want to write about. This essay, for example, needs to contrast two things, and needs to be interesting to US, and be five paragraphs long. But the sky is the limit for the two things we want to contrast!
The grading system in a high school English class is based on two things: did you do it, and does it relate to the topic? If you answered yes to both of those questions, congratulations, you get a 100. This was great news for us lazy high schoolers who just wanted to pass the class and move on with our lives. It was very little effort on our part, and even less effort on the English teacher's part. What I have found (rather, what we were ever so bluntly told,) in our college English class, you have done well if you have tried, if you relate to what you have written, and if your writing does what it's supposed to do. But Mr. Goldfine will tell you if it needs work, or if you have obviously blown off his well thought out assignment for something that has interested you more. In college, you are pushed and guided to your full potential by being given the sky as your limit.
It's no secret that I enjoy college English so much more than I enjoyed my robotic, high school English classes. After four years of forgetting "hey, I can write about anything!" I'm glad to have my writing tested and criticized again, and to not have my nose shoved into a text book when I sit down to do my English work.
In high school, English classes consisted of looking at text-books. The extent of an English class in my high school was, "Turn to this page, read this person's story, and write about your feelings." In college, even though I'm in a non-traditional online class instead of a traditional in-person class, I haven been re-introduced to the variety of things that an English class should offer, including lectures, essays, reading other people's work, brainstorming, researching, getting creative, and being given all the slack in the world to do what I want to do with my writing.
The homework assignments in my high school English classes were the equivalent of what we had done in the class. "Read Frederick Douglass's narrative and then write one paragraph telling how it made you feel." "Read the next chapter out of Of Mice and Men and write a couple of sentences telling why you think Lennie Small acted the way he did." The assignments were about things that are good to think about, and that are good knowledge to have, but they really limited our capabilities as writers, and gave high school students a really easy, but boring, way out. In this college English class, we are given a lot to think about, and new things to try, and although we are given guidelines to follow, we are very free to write about whatever WE want to write about. This essay, for example, needs to contrast two things, and needs to be interesting to US, and be five paragraphs long. But the sky is the limit for the two things we want to contrast!
The grading system in a high school English class is based on two things: did you do it, and does it relate to the topic? If you answered yes to both of those questions, congratulations, you get a 100. This was great news for us lazy high schoolers who just wanted to pass the class and move on with our lives. It was very little effort on our part, and even less effort on the English teacher's part. What I have found (rather, what we were ever so bluntly told,) in our college English class, you have done well if you have tried, if you relate to what you have written, and if your writing does what it's supposed to do. But Mr. Goldfine will tell you if it needs work, or if you have obviously blown off his well thought out assignment for something that has interested you more. In college, you are pushed and guided to your full potential by being given the sky as your limit.
It's no secret that I enjoy college English so much more than I enjoyed my robotic, high school English classes. After four years of forgetting "hey, I can write about anything!" I'm glad to have my writing tested and criticized again, and to not have my nose shoved into a text book when I sit down to do my English work.
Graf #2 of Contrast Essay
In high school, English classes consisted of looking at text-books.
The extent of an English class in my high school was, "Turn to this
page, read this person's story, and write about your feelings." In
college, even though I'm in a non-traditional online class instead of a
traditional in-person class, I haven been re-introduced to the variety
of things that an English class should offer, including lectures,
essays, reading other people's work, brainstorming, researching, getting
creative, and being given all the slack in the world to do what I want
to do with my writing.
Contrast Essay Intros
#1
English has been, and always will be, my favorite subject, and my favorite thing to learn about. I have always been told that I'm a good writer, (when I try to be,) and I'm always open to new styles of writing. But having been through high school English classes, and now a college English class, I have come to realize that there are significant differences between these two levels of classes.
#2
When we were being "prepared" for college English, all we were ever told was that college will be a lot harder than high school. You'll have to write 100-page essays, read thousands of text book pages a night, take notebooks full of notes every day, and read long, boring books until your eyes dry up and fall out. After getting through high school English, I thought college English would be a nightmare. But because of my love for writing, I was never really afraid of it. But now that I'm half-way through my first semester of college, I have come to realize that there are significant differences between high school English and college English, other than the difficulty.
English has been, and always will be, my favorite subject, and my favorite thing to learn about. I have always been told that I'm a good writer, (when I try to be,) and I'm always open to new styles of writing. But having been through high school English classes, and now a college English class, I have come to realize that there are significant differences between these two levels of classes.
#2
When we were being "prepared" for college English, all we were ever told was that college will be a lot harder than high school. You'll have to write 100-page essays, read thousands of text book pages a night, take notebooks full of notes every day, and read long, boring books until your eyes dry up and fall out. After getting through high school English, I thought college English would be a nightmare. But because of my love for writing, I was never really afraid of it. But now that I'm half-way through my first semester of college, I have come to realize that there are significant differences between high school English and college English, other than the difficulty.
Essay #2
It's been pouring rain all day, and the clock hits 8 PM as I'm driving
down a two-lane road on my way to pick up something for dinner. The
headlights from cars, street lights and business signs reflect off of
the wet windshield, and I see out of the corner of my eye a dim light
from a cell phone coming from small, black sports car driving in the
lane beside me. I felt like something bad was going to happen, so I kept
my eye on the sports car as long as it was beside me. All of a sudden,
the sports car started to merge into my lane while he was still directly
next to me. Already prepared to react if something were to happen, I
put on my breaks, blared my horn, and pulled onto the side of the road
to make room for the sports car. This guy was a multi-tasker, and he
almost got himself... and me... into trouble. There are three main types
of bad drivers: the "speeder," the "grandma," and the "multi-tasker,"
like our sports car friend.
The speeder is the most common type of bad driver. Whether it's someone in a hurry, someone who thinks that fast is cool, or someone who thinks they're straight out of "The Fast and the Furious," you always encounter someone trying to race by you. Let me ask, which would be worse: being 10 minutes late to work instead of 5 minutes late, or losing control and smashing into a tree, or another driver? When I lived in Waltham, every morning I would expect the same vehicle to come flying by me, no matter what the road conditions were. One morning during a snow storm, this same small, brown car passed me on a causeway without hesitation. The roads were a sheet of ice, and I couldn't go over 10 MPH without losing traction, but this driver thought they were invincible. When I see someone speeding by, I'm not thinking "Oh they look SO rad pushing 90 MPH in a 45 MPH zone!" No, I'm thinking, "I really hope a cop is sitting around the corner to bust their ass."
Another common type of bad driver, the "grandma," brings out the impatience in even the most patient people, and can even be dangerous. When you're on a schedule, it's frustrating when you come up behind an elderly person doing 5 MPH in a 35 MPH zone. You drive patiently behind for a while, but when you've only gone 100 feet down the road in one minute, your patience tends to wear a little. I'm a believer in re-take driving tests when you hit between 70 and 80 years old. At the beginning of summer 2012, I was driving in the left lane of a two-lane, one-way road. All of a sudden, I see a gold Subaru pull out of a gas station to my right. The person in the right lane was lucky enough to see her in time and slam on their breaks, but the Subaru got to my side of the road and side-swiped my poor Malibu before I could react. I was devastated, and the worst part was: the woman in the Subaru was a 94 year old woman who said that she looked before pulling out, and didn't see anyone coming. My car was considered totaled, and I had to buy it back from the insurance company and use the money I got from the accident not being my fault to fix it. If this woman had re-taken her test, they probably would have figured out her sight was bad before she was able to total my car. The "grandma" driver may not be the most common, but it can be deadly!
Last but not least, we come back to our sports car friend, the "multi-tasker." Out of all of the types of bad driver, this one is fast becoming the most common, almost beating out the "speeder." This decade has become all about cell phones, iPods, and other portable technology. It was a month or two after first getting my license when I was on my way back to work after taking a short dinner break. I stopped at a stop sign in a parking lot, and when I saw nobody coming, I began to cross to the other side of the lot, which cuts across five lanes; three going out to the main road, and two coming in from it. I was passing the last two lanes and was almost home-free, until a woman flew around the corner off of the main road and side-swiped me. She was speeding, and on her cell phone. This was not a nice woman. She freaked out, said it was my fault, and I ended up having to pay for her car because technically she had the right of way. Luckily in the situation nobody was hurt, but there are many accidents where people haven't been so lucky. In the time that you take to text and drive, you travel the distance of a whole football field... without looking. Whether it's someone trying to get a quick meal in, a soccer mom attempting to discipline her kids while she drives, somone putting on make up, or someone texting, the "multi-tasker" may be the most dangerous type of bad driver there is.
So after multiple encounters with bad drivers, I wish I could say that there's a way to prevent letting these people on the road. But as soon as that small, rectangular piece of plastic is handed to them and their freedom and a steering wheel are put into their hands, you'll never know what type of driver they will decide to be. Bad drivers are being born every day, and somewhere, someone was just told "you've passed!" by an instructor who doesn't know they could be giving that potential bad driver the freedom to make the road a little more dangerous.
The speeder is the most common type of bad driver. Whether it's someone in a hurry, someone who thinks that fast is cool, or someone who thinks they're straight out of "The Fast and the Furious," you always encounter someone trying to race by you. Let me ask, which would be worse: being 10 minutes late to work instead of 5 minutes late, or losing control and smashing into a tree, or another driver? When I lived in Waltham, every morning I would expect the same vehicle to come flying by me, no matter what the road conditions were. One morning during a snow storm, this same small, brown car passed me on a causeway without hesitation. The roads were a sheet of ice, and I couldn't go over 10 MPH without losing traction, but this driver thought they were invincible. When I see someone speeding by, I'm not thinking "Oh they look SO rad pushing 90 MPH in a 45 MPH zone!" No, I'm thinking, "I really hope a cop is sitting around the corner to bust their ass."
Another common type of bad driver, the "grandma," brings out the impatience in even the most patient people, and can even be dangerous. When you're on a schedule, it's frustrating when you come up behind an elderly person doing 5 MPH in a 35 MPH zone. You drive patiently behind for a while, but when you've only gone 100 feet down the road in one minute, your patience tends to wear a little. I'm a believer in re-take driving tests when you hit between 70 and 80 years old. At the beginning of summer 2012, I was driving in the left lane of a two-lane, one-way road. All of a sudden, I see a gold Subaru pull out of a gas station to my right. The person in the right lane was lucky enough to see her in time and slam on their breaks, but the Subaru got to my side of the road and side-swiped my poor Malibu before I could react. I was devastated, and the worst part was: the woman in the Subaru was a 94 year old woman who said that she looked before pulling out, and didn't see anyone coming. My car was considered totaled, and I had to buy it back from the insurance company and use the money I got from the accident not being my fault to fix it. If this woman had re-taken her test, they probably would have figured out her sight was bad before she was able to total my car. The "grandma" driver may not be the most common, but it can be deadly!
Last but not least, we come back to our sports car friend, the "multi-tasker." Out of all of the types of bad driver, this one is fast becoming the most common, almost beating out the "speeder." This decade has become all about cell phones, iPods, and other portable technology. It was a month or two after first getting my license when I was on my way back to work after taking a short dinner break. I stopped at a stop sign in a parking lot, and when I saw nobody coming, I began to cross to the other side of the lot, which cuts across five lanes; three going out to the main road, and two coming in from it. I was passing the last two lanes and was almost home-free, until a woman flew around the corner off of the main road and side-swiped me. She was speeding, and on her cell phone. This was not a nice woman. She freaked out, said it was my fault, and I ended up having to pay for her car because technically she had the right of way. Luckily in the situation nobody was hurt, but there are many accidents where people haven't been so lucky. In the time that you take to text and drive, you travel the distance of a whole football field... without looking. Whether it's someone trying to get a quick meal in, a soccer mom attempting to discipline her kids while she drives, somone putting on make up, or someone texting, the "multi-tasker" may be the most dangerous type of bad driver there is.
So after multiple encounters with bad drivers, I wish I could say that there's a way to prevent letting these people on the road. But as soon as that small, rectangular piece of plastic is handed to them and their freedom and a steering wheel are put into their hands, you'll never know what type of driver they will decide to be. Bad drivers are being born every day, and somewhere, someone was just told "you've passed!" by an instructor who doesn't know they could be giving that potential bad driver the freedom to make the road a little more dangerous.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Outro to Classification Essay
So after multiple encounters with bad drivers, I wish I could say that there's a way to prevent letting these people on the road. But as soon as that small, rectangular piece of plastic is handed to them and their freedom and a steering wheel are put into their hands, you'll never know what type of driver they will decide to be. Whether you're a speeder, a multi-tasker, or a grandma, please be aware of the people around you. A vehicle is a lot of responsibility and a lot of power, and I would rather not have my life or anyone elses life end from a stupid move you decide to make.
Graf #17
"I find my debit card cowering in my pocket, begging me not to abuse it too much."
Nice line!
:)
This is clearly structured, individual; I can hear a distinct voice; definitely a cause essay, definitely one I accept.
Weakest graf: 3. Not enough detail about what you spend money on on those wild nights out.
I'm glad you like it! I was actually felt pretty good about this essay. I usually never like my own writing, but when I'm writing about myself and my own experiences, it's so much easier to describe things.
As for graf number 3, I didn't think to put an example in there. I would tell about the time that my boyfriend and I spent a bunch of money shopping, eating out and going to the movies all in one night. I felt mighty guilty about how much I spent after!
Nice line!
:)
This is clearly structured, individual; I can hear a distinct voice; definitely a cause essay, definitely one I accept.
Weakest graf: 3. Not enough detail about what you spend money on on those wild nights out.
I'm glad you like it! I was actually felt pretty good about this essay. I usually never like my own writing, but when I'm writing about myself and my own experiences, it's so much easier to describe things.
As for graf number 3, I didn't think to put an example in there. I would tell about the time that my boyfriend and I spent a bunch of money shopping, eating out and going to the movies all in one night. I felt mighty guilty about how much I spent after!
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Classification Essay Intros
Intro 1:
It's very rare nowadays that you can get in your car and drive to your destination without encountering something or someone that makes you go "What the hell?!"In most cases, you'll be exclaiming about someones driving skills... or lack of. There are three main types of bad drivers: the "speeder", the "multi-tasker", and the "grandma."
Intro 2:
It's been pouring rain all day, and the clock hits 8 PM as I'm driving down a two-lane road on my way to pick up something for dinner. The headlights from cars, street lights and business signs reflect off of the wet windshield, and I see out of the corner of my eye a dim light from a cell phone coming from small, black sports car driving in the lane beside me. I felt like something bad was going to happen, so I kept my eye on the sports car as long as it was beside me. All of a sudden, the sports car started to merge into my lane while he was still directly next to me. Already prepared to react if something were to happen, I put on my breaks, blared my horn, and pulled onto the side of the road to make room for the sports car. This guy was a multi-tasker, and he almost got himself... and me... into trouble. There are three main types of bad drivers: the "speeder," the "grandma," and the "multi-tasker," like our sports car friend.
It's very rare nowadays that you can get in your car and drive to your destination without encountering something or someone that makes you go "What the hell?!"In most cases, you'll be exclaiming about someones driving skills... or lack of. There are three main types of bad drivers: the "speeder", the "multi-tasker", and the "grandma."
Intro 2:
It's been pouring rain all day, and the clock hits 8 PM as I'm driving down a two-lane road on my way to pick up something for dinner. The headlights from cars, street lights and business signs reflect off of the wet windshield, and I see out of the corner of my eye a dim light from a cell phone coming from small, black sports car driving in the lane beside me. I felt like something bad was going to happen, so I kept my eye on the sports car as long as it was beside me. All of a sudden, the sports car started to merge into my lane while he was still directly next to me. Already prepared to react if something were to happen, I put on my breaks, blared my horn, and pulled onto the side of the road to make room for the sports car. This guy was a multi-tasker, and he almost got himself... and me... into trouble. There are three main types of bad drivers: the "speeder," the "grandma," and the "multi-tasker," like our sports car friend.
Monday, October 8, 2012
Graf #16
My favorite sample classification essay was the first one, about snakes, snails and puppy dogs tails. I think that this essay gave the clearest example on how a classification essay should look like based on Mr. Goldfine's description. It's also very interesting because she used very personal information about her life to make the essay more interesting and fun to read.
Graf #15
I'm sitting in an uncomfortable, ugly, red motel chair listening to my boyfriend talk to customers about room reservations and making small talk. I'm holding my pen in one hand, my phone in the other, carefully studying my College Composition homework page. Cause graf? What cause for why I did something or think something would be good enough for a five paragraph essay? A bunch of things start running through my head based on what I see around me. Why do Maine winters suck? Why am I sitting in this motel right now? Why do people like lobsters so much? Why am I so hungry? Why are owls my favorite animals? And just as I started to get frustrated, my boyfriend asks me what I want for dinner. I respond, "I don't know, I don't have any money!"
Kablam. "Why I'm broke all the time." (Refer to Cause Essay!)
Kablam. "Why I'm broke all the time." (Refer to Cause Essay!)
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Cause Essay
"Your check will be made out for $1,200, and you may move in immediately."
This was what my landlord told me the day I moved into my apartment. Freedom! But yet again, I'm broke!
"Let's go to Chili's for dinner, and maybe I'll get some drinks. Then we can go to the movies and get a bunch of popcorn." Finally, a night out. Bye, bye, money!
"Thank you! Your credit card has been charged $175.45!"
This was my boyfriend's 21st birthday present: concert tickets for this past summer. Yes, I'm broke again!
Why is it that no matter how hard I try, I can't save my money to save my life? It's always one thing or another, and my bank account is always the one that is suffering.For as long as I have been making my own money, I've had such a hard time saving it. Whether it's because I have crazy amounts of bills due, or because I went out and had some fun, or because there was a birthday or holiday that I had to use my money for, I am always broke.
Ever since I turned 18 years old, I have been welcomed into the wonderful world of bills! (Can you sense the sarcasm there?) Cell phone bills, insurance bills, rent, college bills, gas, food, heat, electricity, internet, etc. Sometimes it seems like these endless companies that humans can't live without are so eager, and so overjoyed when they take your money. Taking money is to bill collectors as collecting cats is to a cat lady: so much fun! But can I blame them all for stealing my money away, or do I blame myself? I chose to have a nice cell phone, to live on my own, to attend college and drive a car. But these things are also an expected part of living these days. If I were to limit myself to these expenses only, I would be living life, but not to the fullest. This is not the end of the money-sucking parasites that seem to always have their teeth sunk into my bank account.
Having fun and doing things for yourself is necessary. Right? If we didn't take a little time and money for ourselves, surely we would all be unhappy robots doomed to work, pay bills, learn, eat, sleep, repeat. I work days and I am enrolled in school full time, and my boyfriend works overnights as well as occasional days on top of that. When the one night finally comes that both of us are free and not too tired to stand, we want to go have fun. This is understandable, isn't it? We always go out and have a great time, and we don't worry about anything that we always have to worry about... until the end of the night, the fun is over, and I realize that we just spent the equivalent of our electric bill on dinner alone. I always wonder if I should feel bad about things like this, but in the end, what's done is done, and I take on a few extra hours to cheer up my empty savings account until the next money-eating parasite comes around.
The end of the year has always been my favorite time of year, starting around October. I love the holidays (the snow...not so much.) But just like everyone else around the world, I find my debit card cowering in my pocket, begging me not to abuse it too much. In my family, everyone just so happened to be born around the same time. my brother, sister, dad and I all have birthdays between the months of October and January, on top of Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years. Oh, and Black Friday... nobody can forget that. You may see where I'm going with this already, but all hopes of saving money during this time of year is completely non existing. I have this annoying need to get everyone I love something really great and perfect for them as gifts, and when I find that perfect gift, I love seeing the reaction on their faces when I give it to them. Maybe I can't save money when it's birthday and holiday season, but I think my bank account understands this one.
So after expensive birthday presents, big decisions that make my bank account sad, and many nights out, I have finally decided to start saving my money. Between having a full time job and being a full time college student, I have decided that there are things I need to prepare for and I need to start taking responsibility for things. I know, it's all boring, no-fun adult stuff, and I know it's not going to be easy (or fun!!). In the end, my bank account and future me will thank me!
This was what my landlord told me the day I moved into my apartment. Freedom! But yet again, I'm broke!
"Let's go to Chili's for dinner, and maybe I'll get some drinks. Then we can go to the movies and get a bunch of popcorn." Finally, a night out. Bye, bye, money!
"Thank you! Your credit card has been charged $175.45!"
This was my boyfriend's 21st birthday present: concert tickets for this past summer. Yes, I'm broke again!
Why is it that no matter how hard I try, I can't save my money to save my life? It's always one thing or another, and my bank account is always the one that is suffering.For as long as I have been making my own money, I've had such a hard time saving it. Whether it's because I have crazy amounts of bills due, or because I went out and had some fun, or because there was a birthday or holiday that I had to use my money for, I am always broke.
Ever since I turned 18 years old, I have been welcomed into the wonderful world of bills! (Can you sense the sarcasm there?) Cell phone bills, insurance bills, rent, college bills, gas, food, heat, electricity, internet, etc. Sometimes it seems like these endless companies that humans can't live without are so eager, and so overjoyed when they take your money. Taking money is to bill collectors as collecting cats is to a cat lady: so much fun! But can I blame them all for stealing my money away, or do I blame myself? I chose to have a nice cell phone, to live on my own, to attend college and drive a car. But these things are also an expected part of living these days. If I were to limit myself to these expenses only, I would be living life, but not to the fullest. This is not the end of the money-sucking parasites that seem to always have their teeth sunk into my bank account.
Having fun and doing things for yourself is necessary. Right? If we didn't take a little time and money for ourselves, surely we would all be unhappy robots doomed to work, pay bills, learn, eat, sleep, repeat. I work days and I am enrolled in school full time, and my boyfriend works overnights as well as occasional days on top of that. When the one night finally comes that both of us are free and not too tired to stand, we want to go have fun. This is understandable, isn't it? We always go out and have a great time, and we don't worry about anything that we always have to worry about... until the end of the night, the fun is over, and I realize that we just spent the equivalent of our electric bill on dinner alone. I always wonder if I should feel bad about things like this, but in the end, what's done is done, and I take on a few extra hours to cheer up my empty savings account until the next money-eating parasite comes around.
The end of the year has always been my favorite time of year, starting around October. I love the holidays (the snow...not so much.) But just like everyone else around the world, I find my debit card cowering in my pocket, begging me not to abuse it too much. In my family, everyone just so happened to be born around the same time. my brother, sister, dad and I all have birthdays between the months of October and January, on top of Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years. Oh, and Black Friday... nobody can forget that. You may see where I'm going with this already, but all hopes of saving money during this time of year is completely non existing. I have this annoying need to get everyone I love something really great and perfect for them as gifts, and when I find that perfect gift, I love seeing the reaction on their faces when I give it to them. Maybe I can't save money when it's birthday and holiday season, but I think my bank account understands this one.
So after expensive birthday presents, big decisions that make my bank account sad, and many nights out, I have finally decided to start saving my money. Between having a full time job and being a full time college student, I have decided that there are things I need to prepare for and I need to start taking responsibility for things. I know, it's all boring, no-fun adult stuff, and I know it's not going to be easy (or fun!!). In the end, my bank account and future me will thank me!
Graf #14
PLANNING RESEARCH
I will use my Psychology book for a few answers about dreams, because there is a section dedicated to them.
I will also use the website that Mr. Goldfine showed me about memory, and people who are able to remember almost everything.
I see more problems coming up with me combining "memory" and "memories" again. When I start to think about my topic, I accidentally tend to focus on memories I have without including memory, and I often forget my questions.
I think I'm going to split up my questions and research them individually, and then bring them all together in order to reach my goal.
I'm going to use a lot of personal experience.
I'm going to experiment a little with the theories of how to improve memory by testing a few "at home" techniques to see if they work.
I don't see this all being answered on one website, since my questions aren't completely similar, and because I'm dealing with memories (why we remember some of them, dreams, etc.) AND memory (how it works, how to improve it, etc.).
I will use my Psychology book for a few answers about dreams, because there is a section dedicated to them.
I will also use the website that Mr. Goldfine showed me about memory, and people who are able to remember almost everything.
I see more problems coming up with me combining "memory" and "memories" again. When I start to think about my topic, I accidentally tend to focus on memories I have without including memory, and I often forget my questions.
I think I'm going to split up my questions and research them individually, and then bring them all together in order to reach my goal.
I'm going to use a lot of personal experience.
I'm going to experiment a little with the theories of how to improve memory by testing a few "at home" techniques to see if they work.
I don't see this all being answered on one website, since my questions aren't completely similar, and because I'm dealing with memories (why we remember some of them, dreams, etc.) AND memory (how it works, how to improve it, etc.).
Friday, September 28, 2012
What I Already Know
I do not have a lot of knowledge about the specifics of memory, but I do know that there is long term and short term memory. Also that there are many theories about ways to improve memory, from medicines that claim to better your memory, to therapy sessions and "brain exercises" that claim to do the same thing. I have heard of things such as Memory Championships that test people's memories to the limit. I have also heard of people with photographic memories that can remember everything perfectly.
The few things that I know are mostly limited to personal experiences, such as being very forgetful at times, to remembering things that happened a long time ago that don't necessarily matter or have any use to me, other than sentimentally.
The few things that I know are mostly limited to personal experiences, such as being very forgetful at times, to remembering things that happened a long time ago that don't necessarily matter or have any use to me, other than sentimentally.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Cause Essay Outro
So after expensive birthday presents, big decisions that make my bank account sad, and many nights out, I have finally decided to start saving my money. Between having a full time job and being a full time college student, I have decided that there are things I need to prepare for and I need to start taking responsibility for things. I know, it's all boring, no-fun adult stuff, and I know it's not going to be easy (or fun!!). In the end, my bank account and future me will thank me!
Friday, September 21, 2012
Intro #2
"Thank you! Your credit card has been charged $175.45!"
This was my boyfriend's 21st birthday present: concert tickets for this past summer. Yes, I'm broke again!
"Your check will be made out for $1,200, and you may move in immediately."
This was what my landlord told me the day I moved into my apartment. Freedom! But yet again, I'm broke!
"Let's go to Chili's for dinner, and maybe I'll get some drinks. Then we can go to the movies and get a bunch of popcorn." Finally, a night out. Bye, bye, money! Why is it that no matter how hard I try, I can't save my money to save my life? It's always one thing or another, and my bank account is always the one that is suffering.
This was my boyfriend's 21st birthday present: concert tickets for this past summer. Yes, I'm broke again!
"Your check will be made out for $1,200, and you may move in immediately."
This was what my landlord told me the day I moved into my apartment. Freedom! But yet again, I'm broke!
"Let's go to Chili's for dinner, and maybe I'll get some drinks. Then we can go to the movies and get a bunch of popcorn." Finally, a night out. Bye, bye, money! Why is it that no matter how hard I try, I can't save my money to save my life? It's always one thing or another, and my bank account is always the one that is suffering.
Graf #13
When I read through the example cause essays, it gave me more clarification about the assignment. I was confused at first about what was expected of the essay, but the examples definitely helped. They also gave me many ideas on essays that I could write. It's very interesting to read essays that other students have written in the past, and it's reassuring to find that almost anything goes as long it's along the base line of what the assignment's goal is.
Intro #1
For as long as I have been making my own money, I've had such a hard time saving it. Whether it's because I have crazy amounts of bills due, or because I went out and had some fun, or because there was a birthday or holiday that I had to use my money for, I am always broke.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Graf #12
Place- The Haunted House of Graham Lake
Quiet.
Opposed to the lush, green leaves rustling together in the hot, humid, summer breeze, and the distant sound of the lake water making friends with the gravel shore, and the unsure breathing of my friend next to me, there are no sounds to be heard. Before us stands something of horror movies; we're in the scene of the movie where everyone watching shouts "Turn around, stupid!" But I can't move. Curiosity floods over me as if it's a white sheet mimicking the ones covering furniture through the windows. The cabin has to be at least a hundred years old; the boards are rotted beyond repair, half of the windows are repaired with plastic, the other half left broken with glass debris still present. The roof is so droopy I wouldn't be surprised if it were to cave in right before our eyes, trash speckles the overgrown lawn, and most importantly, someone left the door wide open. My heart sinks deep, deep down into my belly, as I declare: "What are we waiting for? Let's go inside."
Quiet.
Opposed to the lush, green leaves rustling together in the hot, humid, summer breeze, and the distant sound of the lake water making friends with the gravel shore, and the unsure breathing of my friend next to me, there are no sounds to be heard. Before us stands something of horror movies; we're in the scene of the movie where everyone watching shouts "Turn around, stupid!" But I can't move. Curiosity floods over me as if it's a white sheet mimicking the ones covering furniture through the windows. The cabin has to be at least a hundred years old; the boards are rotted beyond repair, half of the windows are repaired with plastic, the other half left broken with glass debris still present. The roof is so droopy I wouldn't be surprised if it were to cave in right before our eyes, trash speckles the overgrown lawn, and most importantly, someone left the door wide open. My heart sinks deep, deep down into my belly, as I declare: "What are we waiting for? Let's go inside."
Graf #11
Research
I "Google" a lot.
You know that thing on the internet where you type in any question, word, phrase, or letter and you instantly become a doctor, scientist, stalker, chef, navigator, know-it-all, etc.
I've decided to type "How to" into my Google bar, (I begin with this a lot), and describe to you my research about the first thing that pops up in my Google history.
And the winner is:
"How to remove powder acrylic nails."
Oh boy, this is quite a story.
The beginning of Summer 2012, I was still living with my parents, I had just graduated high school, and I thought it would be a marvelous idea to work two jobs, acquiring 18 hours a day. It was awful, but worth it when I got my shiny, fat pay-checks. One Saturday morning, I put my checks in the bank and decided that I deserved a little pampering. I had never gotten "fake" nails before, as people call them, so I stopped into a little salon in Ellsworth, Maine to have some put on. I was in love with my nails; they looked gorgeous, and I was having a fun time with my new-found long nails, which I had never had before due to my nail-biting habit.
Two weeks went by, which is the average life-span for acrylic nails, and I couldn't find the time to go to the salon to have them removed. Eventually, my natural nails had grown so much and had been covered for so long that they had begun to hurt. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands, and Googled "How to remove powder acrylic nails." I watched several videos where women showed me the step-by-step process of removing fake nails. A billion videos and 5 hours later, those little acrylic demons were still stuck on my hands.
If you're wondering the outcome of my battle, I did eventually get the nails removed myself, but not without accidentally ripping my REAL pinky nail out.... ouch. :( But from my personal research, I learned a valuable lesson: I am NOT a nail technician, and I will NEVER get fake nails again. I'm happy with my short, natural nails that I will never get out of the habit of biting.
I "Google" a lot.
You know that thing on the internet where you type in any question, word, phrase, or letter and you instantly become a doctor, scientist, stalker, chef, navigator, know-it-all, etc.
I've decided to type "How to" into my Google bar, (I begin with this a lot), and describe to you my research about the first thing that pops up in my Google history.
And the winner is:
"How to remove powder acrylic nails."
Oh boy, this is quite a story.
The beginning of Summer 2012, I was still living with my parents, I had just graduated high school, and I thought it would be a marvelous idea to work two jobs, acquiring 18 hours a day. It was awful, but worth it when I got my shiny, fat pay-checks. One Saturday morning, I put my checks in the bank and decided that I deserved a little pampering. I had never gotten "fake" nails before, as people call them, so I stopped into a little salon in Ellsworth, Maine to have some put on. I was in love with my nails; they looked gorgeous, and I was having a fun time with my new-found long nails, which I had never had before due to my nail-biting habit.
Two weeks went by, which is the average life-span for acrylic nails, and I couldn't find the time to go to the salon to have them removed. Eventually, my natural nails had grown so much and had been covered for so long that they had begun to hurt. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands, and Googled "How to remove powder acrylic nails." I watched several videos where women showed me the step-by-step process of removing fake nails. A billion videos and 5 hours later, those little acrylic demons were still stuck on my hands.
If you're wondering the outcome of my battle, I did eventually get the nails removed myself, but not without accidentally ripping my REAL pinky nail out.... ouch. :( But from my personal research, I learned a valuable lesson: I am NOT a nail technician, and I will NEVER get fake nails again. I'm happy with my short, natural nails that I will never get out of the habit of biting.
Memory vs Memories- An extra thought based on something Mr. Goldfine said to me
Memory and memories: two in the same, yet they are different.
Memory: The mental capacity or faculty of retaining and reviving facts, events, impressions, etc.
In other words, your memory is what your brain can remember about
things you've seen, learned, experienced, and so on. It's the potential
to remember.
Memories: Recalling or recognizing previous experiences. In other words, the things that you already remember.
Why I'm Writing
Why I'm Writing
I have wondered about memory and memories since I was a kid. What if I want to remember not knowing how to talk, or how I learned how to ride a bike to teach my child some day, or what happened in our United States history? I think that the best thing you can research is something you've been wanting an answer to for a long time. I also thing that it will be beneficial to me to learn more about how our brain works, since it's such a complex thing, and it's a topic with endless information and exploring. Some of the questions I would like to answer are:
I have wondered about memory and memories since I was a kid. What if I want to remember not knowing how to talk, or how I learned how to ride a bike to teach my child some day, or what happened in our United States history? I think that the best thing you can research is something you've been wanting an answer to for a long time. I also thing that it will be beneficial to me to learn more about how our brain works, since it's such a complex thing, and it's a topic with endless information and exploring. Some of the questions I would like to answer are:
- Why is it that I store some memories, but not others?
- Why do I only remember some dreams?
- In what part of the brain are memories stored?
- How does storing memories work?
- Are there ways I can recover my memories or dreams?
- Is there any way that I can improve my memory?
Graf #10
Person
So many people come into your life just to visit, but there are very few people who decide to move in and stay awhile. One of my favorite quotes reads, "Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. The older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young." You don't know who is going to actually stay around forever, but it's easy to get a good idea of who those people are early on. I believe that my best friend Michael is the one I'll hold on to.
When Michael and I first met, we were both in very rough places in our lives, family and relationship wise. He never got along with his family, and I currently wasn't getting along with mine and was living with my best friend, and we had both recently gotten our hearts broken. After time had past, both of us realized that we made each other forget all of that mess. After even more time had passed, we decided to make that feeling more permanent, and we've been together for a year now.
Of course it's only been a short time, but like I said before, you can't possibly know who is going to be there for you forever. But I'm reassured every day that Michael will be there for me for a long time, and that's all I need for now. Reassurance... Isn't that all anyone needs?
So many people come into your life just to visit, but there are very few people who decide to move in and stay awhile. One of my favorite quotes reads, "Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. The older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young." You don't know who is going to actually stay around forever, but it's easy to get a good idea of who those people are early on. I believe that my best friend Michael is the one I'll hold on to.
When Michael and I first met, we were both in very rough places in our lives, family and relationship wise. He never got along with his family, and I currently wasn't getting along with mine and was living with my best friend, and we had both recently gotten our hearts broken. After time had past, both of us realized that we made each other forget all of that mess. After even more time had passed, we decided to make that feeling more permanent, and we've been together for a year now.
Of course it's only been a short time, but like I said before, you can't possibly know who is going to be there for you forever. But I'm reassured every day that Michael will be there for me for a long time, and that's all I need for now. Reassurance... Isn't that all anyone needs?
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Isearch Background -REVISED
Ever since I was old enough to think logically, I have wondered why I can't remember everything. I have random memories
about times from my childhood, like that time when my baby brother stole
my favorite baby doll and started chewing and drooling all over her
head. I started freaking out and crying, but my dad held him and laughed
at me, and told me it was just a doll and he wouldn't ruin it.
I can remember everything and anything about proper grammar and proper English (even if I don't always use it...), but after taking a year of AP U.S. History, I couldn't tell you what year Paul Revere took his ride, or what Teddy's Big Stick Policy was, or what happened in the Bay of Pigs Invasion.
I can remember a dream I had a few years ago, about my brother trying to kill me because I had a cold, but I can't remember what I dreamed about last night.
I need to know, why can't I remember most of my life? Was spending all that time in school and working so hard a waste of time if I can't remember any of it?
I can remember everything and anything about proper grammar and proper English (even if I don't always use it...), but after taking a year of AP U.S. History, I couldn't tell you what year Paul Revere took his ride, or what Teddy's Big Stick Policy was, or what happened in the Bay of Pigs Invasion.
I can remember a dream I had a few years ago, about my brother trying to kill me because I had a cold, but I can't remember what I dreamed about last night.
I need to know, why can't I remember most of my life? Was spending all that time in school and working so hard a waste of time if I can't remember any of it?
Graf #9
When I was a little girl, I had a giant, pink net that went across my ceiling that was filled with hundreds of stuffed animals. Nothing was more exciting to me than getting a new stuffed animal. All different varieties of stuffed animals, from the teddy bear I would get every Christmas with the current year sewn onto its left foot, to Cabbage Patch Kids. I remember I had stuffed dogs, dolls that talked, characters from shows like The Big Comfy Couch, Care Bears, Barney, Pokemon, etc.
But my favorite stuffed animal of all time was my Bugs Bunny. Bugs was my very first stuffed animal, given to me by my dad when I was born. He stands about a foot tall, holds a bright orange carrot in his left hand, and wears a big grin that shows off his dominant buck teeth.
Bugs always lived on a shelf in my bedroom. Unlike the other hundreds of stuffed animals I had, he sat on a mini, wooden rocking chair on that shelf, mocking all the others trapped in the net above.
Settled in my very first apartment, living on my own now, Bugs Bunny still sits and protects me on that mini, wooden rocking chair on my bureau. He's in perfect condition, other than a small chocolate milk stain here or there, and is the only stuffed animal I have left from my giant collection.
Graf #8
Reaction to Isearch Samples
After reading through these samples, I have a better understanding of what to look for, and what is expected. I also found how amazing it is that some things interest some people a lot more than they do others...
From these samples, I've decided I need to figure out why I'm writing. What questions I have. What I see during my search for the answers. What I've learned. Why this matters in the future. And of course the infamous bibligraphy.
I think now it'll be easier to direct my search!
Friday, September 7, 2012
Graf 7
Why is it that we only store some memories, but not others?
Why do we only remember some dreams?
In what part of the brain are memories stored?
How does storing memories work?
Are there ways that we can recover memories or dreams?
Are there ways that we can improve our memories?
Graf #6
My "girl car," or my navy blue 2001 Chevy Malibu, is my baby, and my most prized possession. It's usually pretty messy; you'll see things like clothes, shoes, paper, movies, etc. My favorite movie of all time is the Lion King, and you'll see a large collection of Disney movies on my DVD stand in my living room. My favorite outfit is my EMCC sweatpants and my boyfriend's comfy sweatshirt that's way too big for me. I like to be comfortable. If I could choose anywhere to be right now, it would be having the time of my life at a live concert. Any type of music, but I prefer country or rock. I'm not the kind of person that always likes to sit at home and relax. I would rather be out around people doing something fun. Of course ocasionally I like to sit at home, watch Netflix and do a puzzle. Currently I'm working on a puzzle of New York. My favorite food is chicken alfredo; I could eat it all day, every day. My favorite color is purple, and I'm addicted to coffee.
Monday, September 3, 2012
Isearch Worksheet
What do you want to write about? How children's brains work.
What do you want to find out aboit your topic?
Development and how they work.
What are your questions about the topic?
1. Why are children able to learn so quickly?
2. What is it about children's brains that make them "spongy" and able to retain more information?
3. How are they different from adult's brains?
4. If we're able to learn so much as children, why do most people not remember the first few years of our childhood?
Subquestion?
1. What age do you stop retaining information as well?
2. Why can I remember some things, but not everything from my childhood?
3. What's different about the brain of a child with Autism that makes them less able to retain certain information?
Give three reasons why you like the topic
1. I work at a daycare and we teach children. It's interesting how much they can learn and remember in such a short period of time.
2. There is one child that has mild autism and has a harder time learning things at the same pace as the children without autism. I'm curious what is different about their brains that make things more difficult for them.
3. Memories and dreams have always fascinated me. I've always wondered why we can only remember some memories as well as only some dreams, but not all of them.
Give three ways your life might change if you answer your questions
1. I'll be able to better understand the children that I work with almost every day.
2. I'll be able to find new ways to work with the child with autism so that he can maybe catch up to the other children his age.
3. I'll answer my life-long question of why we can't remember everything.
Graf #5
Reaction to Isearch Brainstorm
I'm loving the fact that we are able to choose ANY topic we want. I also love that we're not expected to be neat and organized about our brainstorms. When I was in middle school, my brainstorms use to be webs. These webs looked like confusing, jumbled, unreadable nonsense to anyone but me, and my teachers use to get frustrated because they couldn't make out any fathomable ideas from them. I was told that I was wasting time and needed to come up with one idea. We normally had about ten minutes to create a brainstorm and choose a topic. Throughout high school I continued the habit that my middle school teachers got me into: just take the first topic I think of and go with it, I just need a grade. When I read the Isearch brainstorm, I got excited that I get to go back to my confusing, jumbled, unreadable nonsense that my teacher will be exited about, too.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Graf #4
Reaction to “Advice to Writers”
While I was reading through this advice, I wondered if Mr.
Goldfine read my mind, and then used what I think while I write as a “Things
Not To Do” guide. I am guilty of all of this advice, especially ignoring
subjects that I think would be found boring to anyone but me. I am often
choosing subjects that I believe will please my teachers instead of choosing
ones that are interesting to me as the writer. I over-think everything I’m
writing, and one of my worst habits is editing while I write, instead of
writing everything on my mind and going back to edit later. So far, I have
found myself glancing back at this advice while I am writing my grafs. Since I
have been writing the same way for however many years I have known how to write,
it’s proven difficult for me to get rid of these bad habits. I plan to continue
using this advice throughout the rest of my writing career (a.k.a., until I
die.)
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Graph #3
Inventory of the top of my dresser:
In the unorganized, cluttered mess, you can tell that there is a man and a woman sharing this space. With the variety of men and women's beauty products and jewelry scattered among the surface, these people are apparently well kept and smell pretty good. Obviously they own an aquarium, and keep that pretty well kept, too. They must never finish anything they start, since there's a half-done puzzle just sitting there with things piled on it and a job application that they can't even bother to turn in. They may be a little weird, seeing all those silly figurines displayed for everyone to see. But maybe sentimental, seeing the glass figurine that may have belonged to one of their grandmothers, and dried roses in a vase. They have a unique taste; who actually likes Mango-flavored Pepsi? Someone would be better off leaving this mess alone; maybe someday they can straighten out their clutter.
- A can of soda (Paradise Mango flavored Pepsi, to be exact.)
- "Enchanted" perfume by Bath and Body Works
- Gucci Guilty cologne
- "Excite" Axe body spray
- Old Spice original deoderant
- Two boxes of Acuvue contacts, labeled "Left" and "Right"
- Aquarium water-clear chemicals
- A soda bottle full of change
- A jewelry box with 6 necklaces and 2 rings
- Two pairs of reading glasses
- A vase with a dried rose (from my grandmother's funeral) and a red wooden rose
- Contact solutuion
- 9 bottles of nail polish
- A flashlight
- A headband
- A phone charger
- An unfinished jigsaw puzzle
- A job application to Chili's
- A Puma ballcap
- A pair of sunglasses
- A 4-shelf cabinet containing: 4 kinds of fish food, two more bottles of aquarium chemicals, a box containing a bottle of Wonderstruck perfume, a green rubber duck, 3 dinosaur figurines, a rubber platypus, a glass figurine that says "Grandma," and a ceramic owl candle holder
In the unorganized, cluttered mess, you can tell that there is a man and a woman sharing this space. With the variety of men and women's beauty products and jewelry scattered among the surface, these people are apparently well kept and smell pretty good. Obviously they own an aquarium, and keep that pretty well kept, too. They must never finish anything they start, since there's a half-done puzzle just sitting there with things piled on it and a job application that they can't even bother to turn in. They may be a little weird, seeing all those silly figurines displayed for everyone to see. But maybe sentimental, seeing the glass figurine that may have belonged to one of their grandmothers, and dried roses in a vase. They have a unique taste; who actually likes Mango-flavored Pepsi? Someone would be better off leaving this mess alone; maybe someday they can straighten out their clutter.
Graph #2
Being a "teacher" at a daycare; no degree, no school that qualifies me to be a teacher at all, makes me think about all of the different kinds of teachers there are. Now, if you told me to describe the worst teacher I ever had in school, I could tick off the names of every teacher I've had and try to decide which one I consider to be the worst. But if you asked to describe my worst life teacher, that would be a whole different story. I consider everyone who has been even a small part of my life to be a teacher. So many people have taught me so many different things. But I can't decide if there was a single teacher that could be considered the worst. Everything you learn in life is important, no matter what it is. How those things are taught to you is a decision made by your teacher. When you teach yourself something, who is anyone else to decide if it's wrong or not? Maybe I am my own worst teacher. Have I taught myself well? I think so. Will somebody else have the same opinion? Maybe, or maybe not. A teacher can be awful; they can yell at you, get you in trouble, accuse you of being stupid, lazy, a slacker, a procrastinator, someone who doesn't really want to learn. When they give you a wheelbarrow full of homework and a detention slip at the end of the day, or ground you and take away your Iphone, you think "Man, if I was a teacher, I wouldn't treat my students like that." Or, "If I ever have a kid, I wouldn't ground them or take away their things." You just made a life decision to be a better person based on what that horrible teacher did to you. Doesn't that make them a good teacher? I've had some incredible teachers, teachers who bore me, and teachers who I wish their car caught on fire so I wouldn't have to see them that day. But in the end, they all taught me something that is valuable to me, and to name someone as the worst teacher would be overlooking those lessons.
Graph #1
When I began to observe my hands, I thought to myself, "I'm still so young. There isn't much of a story to tell here, yet." But when I thought about all the things I've used my hands for, I realized that they have more of a story than much of the rest of me. I've used them to learn; touching things and playing with things when I was small. I've used them to clap in celebration. I've used them to survive; eating, drinking, and bathing myself would be difficult to do independently without any hands. I've used them to hurt others. I've used them to pray for forgiveness of those actions. I still use them for math: counting in my head was never an easy thing for me, nor math in general. I use them to hold hands with someone I love. I've broken them, they've been cut up, used mercilessly, and taken advantage of. My hands tell more stories: on my left hand, there is a small "X" between my thumb and index finger. This "X" was meant to be a symbol of an iron-strong friendship, but not a year later turned into a reminder of all the things I've crossed out of my past. Not necessarily things that I regret, but things of the past that aren't a part of my future. Every day, that "X" on my hand is a reminder that the only constant in our lives is change. On my right hand, there is a small, crescent-shaped scar on my index knuckle. This scar reminds me of when I was very young, and I wanted to help my mom around the house. While I was washing dishes, the brim of a drinking glass broke off onto my wrist, putting a small slice in my skin. Since then I've sported that scar as a reminder of my childhood. My skin is still soft, still smooth, and only wrinkling where it's naturally wrinkled since birth. I am only eighteen years old, but there is already a lifetime of stories to be told about my hands.
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