Why do girls stay in abusive relationships? There's really no good answer. "1 in 3 teenagers report knowing a friend or peer who has been hit, punched, kicked, slapped, choked or physically hurt by their partner," states an article from T.E.A.R. (Teens Experiencing Abusive Relationships). 80% of girls who have been abused in their relationships continue to date their abuser. Also, of the girls murdered ages 15-19, 30% of them were killed by their boyfriends/husbands. I think that girls stay with their abusers for many different reasons; they think jelousy and posessiveness is a sign of love, they don't think they would ever love someone else, believe their partner will change, have low self-esteem and so on. I know that it's hard to imagine leaving someone that you've been with for a long time and you can't really picture what it would be like without them. It could be unbareable. But I think girls should just take that chance, they will find someone who really cares for them sooner or later. Nothing is worth getting bruises and broken bones over. Physical abuse isn't the only form of abuse, verbal abuse is somewhat even more common in teen relationships. 71% of girls have experienced verbal aggression after 1 year in a relationship. Verbal abuse can be damaging to the girl's self-esteem because it's a never-ending chain of constant down-put and yelling. That would be so horrible, yet so many girl's feelings for their partner do not change after the abuse. Physical and verbal abuse is increasing every year in teen relationships, something needs to be done.
http://www.teensagainstabuse.org/index.php?q=statistics
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
My short story*
The Little Blue Dress
I parked my 1927 Ford by Central Park like I do every day at 4 o’ clock. It didn’t take long for her to arrive, she was wearing a short light blue dress with a white collar. It was just like the one Grandmother loved for me to wear as a child. I loved all the dresses that Grandmother gave me to wear but the blue one was special. The girl’s golden hair was in perfectly styled pigtails accented with two little white bows. Her name was Ruth Allen Cravens, she was walking alongside her mother hand in hand. Whenever I saw Ruth, I saw no one else. As I watched them, it seemed as though Ruth had forgotten her ball in the car and her mom ran to go get it. That was my chance, a chance that might never have come again. I quickly emerged from my car and walked to her side. Her eyes met mine, "Hello Ruth, how are you?" I said.
"Uh, hi. I’m fine thank you."At that moment, I knew I had to have her. I rapidly ran through things in my head to reply with.
After a short pause, I came up with "I just talked to your mother and she said she had to run a few errands and that it would be alright for me to take you home."
"My mommy said not to go anywhere with anyone I don’t know," she said with a blank expression.
"Well, I just talked to her and if you don’t go with me you might be here by yourself for a long time," I conveyed. Ruth looked around the park, as if she was trying to imagine what it would be like at night.
"Well.. Okay," she answered. She followed me out of the park and I took her hand across the street. "119 Lafayette Street," she said suddenly as we stepped into the vehicle. "Excuse me?" I responded.
"That’s my address, that’s where you have to take me." Ruth declared.
"Oh...Yes, of course." I muttered.
"Oh okay, well thank you for the ride," she said with a slight grin.
I smiled back, "It’s no problem my dear, trust me." I locked the car doors before we pulled out of the parking lot, there was no way I would let anyone take her away from me then. I lived on White Plains Road, which is in the exact opposite direction from Lafayette Street, it wasn’t long before she noticed that I was not taking her home. "Uh.. you’re supposed to turn that way to get to my house," Ruth said frantically.
"I know sweetheart."
She began to whimper, "Then where are we going?"
"My house is just ten minutes from here, we can have tea and play; I have a lot of nice toys, Ruth" I uttered, trying to calm her.
"But you said you would take me home to my mommy!" Tears began to pour down her cheeks.
"I know, and I will.. Later," I said calmly.
"But you said now! Take me home now!" At that moment I lost all control and slapped her across the cheek.
"..I’m so sorry Ruthie, I don’t know what came over me." She didn’t respond, she simply turned away when I tried to comfort her. We sat in silence for the rest of the drive, I didn’t know what to say. When we pulled up to my house I walked over to the passenger side to have a quick word with Ruth. "I apologize for my behavior Ruth, it was completely unacceptable, could you ever forgive me?" She was staring at the ground, but she eventually nodded. "All right then, let’s go inside," I smiled as I took her hand and lead her to the porch. Ruth murmured something I couldn’t quite understand, "Excuse me dear?" "I’m hungry," she said a little louder.
"Oh! Yes, yes of course," I proclaimed. "What would you like, my sweet Ruthie?"
"A ham sandwich would be nice, one like mommy makes.." I heard her voice begin to tremble as her eyes welled up with tears again.
"I can’t promise it will be just like her’s," I said. "But I know you’ll love it just as much, try and forget about Mommy for a little bit. Can you do that for me?" She slowly nodded. "Okay. Now how about we go find those toys I was telling you about. Hmm?"
"Okay," she said wiping the tears from her eyes. I took her to the back of the house where the stairs to the attic were.
"This way Ruth," I said as I signaled her to follow me. The attic was dusty and dimly lit. Realizing I had not been up there in ages, I remembered how long it had been since I had brought a little girl home. The last one was too loud so she just had to go away. Ruthie meant the world to me, I thought nothing could ever tear us apart. I pulled a toy box out from the back corner, secretly hiding the worn, brown trunk behind it.
"Look Ruthie! Dozens of baby dolls, and stuffed animals for you to enjoy!"
"They’re nice," she said with hesitation.
"What’s wrong sweetheart?" I began to worry.
"I just.. want my mommy!" she shouted.
"You’re never going to see your mommy again! Get that through your head!" As soon as she heard that she bolted down the stairs to the kitchen in an attempt to escape. It didn’t take long for me to catch up with her considering I am a thirty-seven year old and she was only four. When she came in reach, I pulled her back by the collar and firmly grasped her. "Ruth Allen Cravens, don’t you ever do that again!" I said sternly. Kicking and fighting with all her might she managed to break free for another split second until I caught up with her again. Her screams were terrible enough to shatter glass. I reached for a small towel on the counter and wrapped it around her mouth to soften her screams. "Now Ruthie, I have an idea. How about we play dress up? It would be lovely," I said with a persuading grin, "I’ll remove the towel from your mouth if you promise to hush." She nodded. "Okay then, back to the attic," I whispered as I lead her back up the stairs. This time I pushed aside the toy box and reached for the worn, brown trunk hidden behind it.
As I fidgeted with the lock, Ruth asked, "What’s in there?"
"Dresses for you to wear, of course," I said eagerly. I took out a small red dress with a pink bow on the back, the same one that one of the girls Grandmother had brought home had worn.
"Here, put this on and come down stairs when you are finished."
"All right," she muttered. After about a minute or two I heard her little feet come down the stairs.
"Oh, Ruthie. You look beautiful," I said thinking of how jealous Grandmother would have been to see what a beautiful girl I had brought home.
"Thank you..." She responded, staring down at the ground again. All of the sudden, Ruth turned around to push me and sprinted to the door. Stunned for a second, it took me a while to regain my balance, but as soon as I did I headed after her. She reached the front door but struggled with the lock and couldn’t open it in time.
"Why can you not just be quiet?!" I shouted, "None of Grandmother’s little girls gave her this much trouble! I just don’t understand this!" My emotions had started to control my actions, I started to shake her grasping her around the neck, "Why can’t you just be a good little girl and stay with me forever?!" I saw her face as it turned different shades of blue and purple but I couldn’t control myself I was just so angry. I stopped when her eyes started to roll back in her head. She was just too noisy, I told myself, this had to be done. I stared at her motionless body as I realized what I had just done, again. I lifted her up and carried her to the backyard. The roses in my garden had grown beautifully ever since I brought home my first girl. I grabbed a shovel from behind the shed and began to dig. It only took me about fifteen minutes to dig a hole big enough that time. I placed her tiny body deep in the grave and began to fill it back up. When I was finally finished, I scurried back inside to tidy up. I just hated for things to be out of place, it was just something I couldn’t stand. There hadn’t been much to clean downstairs so I went back up to the attic. When I got to the back of the room I came across Ruthie’s little blue dress she had changed out of. "What a shame, it could have been so nice with her," I said as I folded it up and placed it in the old brown trunk. Just then the doorbell rang, I opened the door to the mailman standing on my front porch.
"Hello, are you Mr. Randall Mason?"
"Yes of course I am," I replied.
I parked my 1927 Ford by Central Park like I do every day at 4 o’ clock. It didn’t take long for her to arrive, she was wearing a short light blue dress with a white collar. It was just like the one Grandmother loved for me to wear as a child. I loved all the dresses that Grandmother gave me to wear but the blue one was special. The girl’s golden hair was in perfectly styled pigtails accented with two little white bows. Her name was Ruth Allen Cravens, she was walking alongside her mother hand in hand. Whenever I saw Ruth, I saw no one else. As I watched them, it seemed as though Ruth had forgotten her ball in the car and her mom ran to go get it. That was my chance, a chance that might never have come again. I quickly emerged from my car and walked to her side. Her eyes met mine, "Hello Ruth, how are you?" I said.
"Uh, hi. I’m fine thank you."At that moment, I knew I had to have her. I rapidly ran through things in my head to reply with.
After a short pause, I came up with "I just talked to your mother and she said she had to run a few errands and that it would be alright for me to take you home."
"My mommy said not to go anywhere with anyone I don’t know," she said with a blank expression.
"Well, I just talked to her and if you don’t go with me you might be here by yourself for a long time," I conveyed. Ruth looked around the park, as if she was trying to imagine what it would be like at night.
"Well.. Okay," she answered. She followed me out of the park and I took her hand across the street. "119 Lafayette Street," she said suddenly as we stepped into the vehicle. "Excuse me?" I responded.
"That’s my address, that’s where you have to take me." Ruth declared.
"Oh...Yes, of course." I muttered.
"Oh okay, well thank you for the ride," she said with a slight grin.
I smiled back, "It’s no problem my dear, trust me." I locked the car doors before we pulled out of the parking lot, there was no way I would let anyone take her away from me then. I lived on White Plains Road, which is in the exact opposite direction from Lafayette Street, it wasn’t long before she noticed that I was not taking her home. "Uh.. you’re supposed to turn that way to get to my house," Ruth said frantically.
"I know sweetheart."
She began to whimper, "Then where are we going?"
"My house is just ten minutes from here, we can have tea and play; I have a lot of nice toys, Ruth" I uttered, trying to calm her.
"But you said you would take me home to my mommy!" Tears began to pour down her cheeks.
"I know, and I will.. Later," I said calmly.
"But you said now! Take me home now!" At that moment I lost all control and slapped her across the cheek.
"..I’m so sorry Ruthie, I don’t know what came over me." She didn’t respond, she simply turned away when I tried to comfort her. We sat in silence for the rest of the drive, I didn’t know what to say. When we pulled up to my house I walked over to the passenger side to have a quick word with Ruth. "I apologize for my behavior Ruth, it was completely unacceptable, could you ever forgive me?" She was staring at the ground, but she eventually nodded. "All right then, let’s go inside," I smiled as I took her hand and lead her to the porch. Ruth murmured something I couldn’t quite understand, "Excuse me dear?" "I’m hungry," she said a little louder.
"Oh! Yes, yes of course," I proclaimed. "What would you like, my sweet Ruthie?"
"A ham sandwich would be nice, one like mommy makes.." I heard her voice begin to tremble as her eyes welled up with tears again.
"I can’t promise it will be just like her’s," I said. "But I know you’ll love it just as much, try and forget about Mommy for a little bit. Can you do that for me?" She slowly nodded. "Okay. Now how about we go find those toys I was telling you about. Hmm?"
"Okay," she said wiping the tears from her eyes. I took her to the back of the house where the stairs to the attic were.
"This way Ruth," I said as I signaled her to follow me. The attic was dusty and dimly lit. Realizing I had not been up there in ages, I remembered how long it had been since I had brought a little girl home. The last one was too loud so she just had to go away. Ruthie meant the world to me, I thought nothing could ever tear us apart. I pulled a toy box out from the back corner, secretly hiding the worn, brown trunk behind it.
"Look Ruthie! Dozens of baby dolls, and stuffed animals for you to enjoy!"
"They’re nice," she said with hesitation.
"What’s wrong sweetheart?" I began to worry.
"I just.. want my mommy!" she shouted.
"You’re never going to see your mommy again! Get that through your head!" As soon as she heard that she bolted down the stairs to the kitchen in an attempt to escape. It didn’t take long for me to catch up with her considering I am a thirty-seven year old and she was only four. When she came in reach, I pulled her back by the collar and firmly grasped her. "Ruth Allen Cravens, don’t you ever do that again!" I said sternly. Kicking and fighting with all her might she managed to break free for another split second until I caught up with her again. Her screams were terrible enough to shatter glass. I reached for a small towel on the counter and wrapped it around her mouth to soften her screams. "Now Ruthie, I have an idea. How about we play dress up? It would be lovely," I said with a persuading grin, "I’ll remove the towel from your mouth if you promise to hush." She nodded. "Okay then, back to the attic," I whispered as I lead her back up the stairs. This time I pushed aside the toy box and reached for the worn, brown trunk hidden behind it.
As I fidgeted with the lock, Ruth asked, "What’s in there?"
"Dresses for you to wear, of course," I said eagerly. I took out a small red dress with a pink bow on the back, the same one that one of the girls Grandmother had brought home had worn.
"Here, put this on and come down stairs when you are finished."
"All right," she muttered. After about a minute or two I heard her little feet come down the stairs.
"Oh, Ruthie. You look beautiful," I said thinking of how jealous Grandmother would have been to see what a beautiful girl I had brought home.
"Thank you..." She responded, staring down at the ground again. All of the sudden, Ruth turned around to push me and sprinted to the door. Stunned for a second, it took me a while to regain my balance, but as soon as I did I headed after her. She reached the front door but struggled with the lock and couldn’t open it in time.
"Why can you not just be quiet?!" I shouted, "None of Grandmother’s little girls gave her this much trouble! I just don’t understand this!" My emotions had started to control my actions, I started to shake her grasping her around the neck, "Why can’t you just be a good little girl and stay with me forever?!" I saw her face as it turned different shades of blue and purple but I couldn’t control myself I was just so angry. I stopped when her eyes started to roll back in her head. She was just too noisy, I told myself, this had to be done. I stared at her motionless body as I realized what I had just done, again. I lifted her up and carried her to the backyard. The roses in my garden had grown beautifully ever since I brought home my first girl. I grabbed a shovel from behind the shed and began to dig. It only took me about fifteen minutes to dig a hole big enough that time. I placed her tiny body deep in the grave and began to fill it back up. When I was finally finished, I scurried back inside to tidy up. I just hated for things to be out of place, it was just something I couldn’t stand. There hadn’t been much to clean downstairs so I went back up to the attic. When I got to the back of the room I came across Ruthie’s little blue dress she had changed out of. "What a shame, it could have been so nice with her," I said as I folded it up and placed it in the old brown trunk. Just then the doorbell rang, I opened the door to the mailman standing on my front porch.
"Hello, are you Mr. Randall Mason?"
"Yes of course I am," I replied.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Compare/Contrast
All three of my Folklore Across Cultures All three ghost stores have similarities and differences. They reflect the different writing and story-telling styles of the various cultures very well I think.
stories were horror stories. The passages I chose, Dancing with the Devil, Screaming Tunnel, and Girl in White, all share some similarities but also differences because of their varied cultures.
My three stories all had only one or two main characters, one of which was a young girl. Although in only two of them the girl dies, Dancing with the Devil and Screaming Tunnel. The main girl in Girl in White was a ghost, thus she was already dead. Additionally, the main female characters in all three stories seemed to be about the same age, in their mid-teens.
Girl in White, Dancing with the Devil, and Screaming Tunnel are all set in different places. Girl in White’s setting is in Mexico, while Dancing with the Devil’s is in Kingsville, Texas, and Screaming Tunnel’s is in Canada; west of Queen Elizabeth Way in Niagra Falls. Girl in White and Dancing with the Devil, although in completely different locations, are both set at a teenage/high school dance.
The stories’ themes are only similar in a way that they all have a slightly creepy twist to the storyline, otherwise they are all pretty different. Screaming Tunnel is about a girl who’s house catches on fire. But she breaks loose, only to be overwhelmed by the flames and burn to death in an old underground tunnel. Legend has it that anyone who strikes a match in the tunnel will hear the girl’s agonizing screams and a ghostly wind will instantly blow out the flame. While the theme in Dancing with the Devil is a girl secretly goes to her high school dance and unknowingly dances with the devil. As he’s spins her, faster and faster, he spins her all the way to hell. Girl in White is about a boy named Ernesto who is lonely at a local dance. He sees a girl with such great beauty, only to find out later that she is a ghost and must leave him.
stories were horror stories. The passages I chose, Dancing with the Devil, Screaming Tunnel, and Girl in White, all share some similarities but also differences because of their varied cultures.
My three stories all had only one or two main characters, one of which was a young girl. Although in only two of them the girl dies, Dancing with the Devil and Screaming Tunnel. The main girl in Girl in White was a ghost, thus she was already dead. Additionally, the main female characters in all three stories seemed to be about the same age, in their mid-teens.
Girl in White, Dancing with the Devil, and Screaming Tunnel are all set in different places. Girl in White’s setting is in Mexico, while Dancing with the Devil’s is in Kingsville, Texas, and Screaming Tunnel’s is in Canada; west of Queen Elizabeth Way in Niagra Falls. Girl in White and Dancing with the Devil, although in completely different locations, are both set at a teenage/high school dance.
The stories’ themes are only similar in a way that they all have a slightly creepy twist to the storyline, otherwise they are all pretty different. Screaming Tunnel is about a girl who’s house catches on fire. But she breaks loose, only to be overwhelmed by the flames and burn to death in an old underground tunnel. Legend has it that anyone who strikes a match in the tunnel will hear the girl’s agonizing screams and a ghostly wind will instantly blow out the flame. While the theme in Dancing with the Devil is a girl secretly goes to her high school dance and unknowingly dances with the devil. As he’s spins her, faster and faster, he spins her all the way to hell. Girl in White is about a boy named Ernesto who is lonely at a local dance. He sees a girl with such great beauty, only to find out later that she is a ghost and must leave him.
Monday, November 1, 2010
11 is enough..
The other day I came across an article in the newspapter that caught my eye. The article was about the vice president of the Midland school board, Clint McCance. McCance strongly disapproves of homosexuality and had been writing his own crued opinions about the gay population on facebook. I understand that we live in the south and that most people don't like the idea of gay and lesbian couples or marriage but there is no need to go on a public rant. The article states that McCance commented on how people that support gay relationships wore purple on the 3rd Wednesday of October to honor the 11 suicides of gay teens in September. It just breaks my heart that so many teenagers took their own life because of all the torment they endured because of their homosexuality. It usually takes a lot of teasing and bullying for someone to kill themself, so I can't even imagine what those kids went through at school and maybe even at home. Someone who is on the school board should be understanding of these issues, not bash them on a social network. Believe it or not, many teen suicides are triggered by websites like facebook and myspace. Cyber bullying can be just as hurtful and take just as big of a toll on a confused teen's life as physical bullying. I am a Church of Christ christian so I don't neccessarily promote gay and lesbian relationships but I am not against them. It's their own life and they should be allowed to marry whom ever they choose. There have already been 11 teen suicides in the U.S., how many more do you need, McCance?
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
3 months, finally over.
It was a hot Auguest evening in 2001 as a walked into the empty white gym awaiting my dad's return. The smell of a freshly waxed floor overwhelmed me as I walked in. It reminded me of how it smells when I step out of an airplane and get that first intake of the outside air, it was friendly and familiar. I could hear all the different families chatting in suspense. I heard whining babies because it was well past their usual bedtime and their mothers quietly hushing them. I look behind me at all the women holding banners reading things like "Welcome home!" and "We missed you!". I could taste the flavor-filled Juicy Fruit gum my mom had just handed me. My mouth started to go dry with anticipation as I turned my head to face the corner of the gym as the door pushed open. One by one soldiers dressed in light shades of camoflouge began to file in. I remember hearing the crowd's booming cheers elevate as each family spotted their loved one(s). I rapidly scan the soldiers for my dad. I finally separate him from the others, he was much tanner than he was before but I recognized him in a heart beat. I could feel my face light up as I catch his eye. His neatly pressed shirt wrinkled as I hugged him. My sister, being only about three years old, just stood there for a minute, unsure of who he was. My mom walked over to hug her husband, by this time my sister began to realize who he was and he lifted her up into his arms to carry her. Holding my dad's hand, we walked back to the car as he began to tell me stories of all the things he saw in the middle east. My dad was finally home.
Friday, October 8, 2010
The suicide pact.
The other day, I came across an article that really caught my attention. It was about two girls who were killed by a speeding Amtrak train in Pennsylvania. In reality it was a suicide, according to a witness and the autopsies. Vanessa Dorwart and Gina Gentile were only fifteen and sixteen when they took their own lives. A third girl was said to have planned to join them but backed out last minute. The girl said Dorwart and Gentile hugged and stepped out onto the tracks just as an Acela from Boston turned the corner. Apparently the reason for the group suicide was because Gentile's boyfriend had just recently died in a car accident and both girls were extremely upset about it. Police said they think up to seven other teens were involved in the suicide pact.
This article just really upset me, I can't understand why two young girls about my age would just suddenly take their own life over a boy. It is heart breaking that the boy died but there's no reason to die too. Friends are supposed to help each other through grievances, not just give up and end everything that is yet to come. It's terrifying how many single and group teen suicides you hear about today. It seems like there's at least one that makes it to big news every few weeks. I just can't comprehend why someone with so much time left to accomplish the world would just drop everything and take their life. I could never imagine I alone, or with a friend commiting suicide for any reason what so ever. I'm sure that if the boy wouldn't have wanted Dorwart and Gentile to jump in front of that train either..
This article just really upset me, I can't understand why two young girls about my age would just suddenly take their own life over a boy. It is heart breaking that the boy died but there's no reason to die too. Friends are supposed to help each other through grievances, not just give up and end everything that is yet to come. It's terrifying how many single and group teen suicides you hear about today. It seems like there's at least one that makes it to big news every few weeks. I just can't comprehend why someone with so much time left to accomplish the world would just drop everything and take their life. I could never imagine I alone, or with a friend commiting suicide for any reason what so ever. I'm sure that if the boy wouldn't have wanted Dorwart and Gentile to jump in front of that train either..
Friday, September 24, 2010
The measures models go to...
You may have heard of the new show, hosted by Jessica Simpson, The Price of Beauty. In the show Jessica and two friends travel the world to various countries to see what their culture's idea of beauty truly is. This past summer I was mindlessly flipping through channels and suddenly stopped on Mtv. The Price of Beauty was on and it was the episode where they visited Paris, France.
As know, Paris is pretty much the fashion central of the world. So while there, they visited some top fashion shows and talked to one specific model, Isabelle Caro. Caro is a former model and suffering with probably the most severe case of anorexia I have ever seen. In the interview Caro explained that a designer told her she had to lose 22 pounds if she ever wanted to model. Isabelle Caro now weighs only about sixty-two pounds. There aren't that many things that really bother me, but this is definately one of them. I don't think you should have to be super skinny to be a model. Ribs, shoulder blades, and a spine sticking out of your body is not attractive... Or healthy. A few years ago, Caro was in a coma and was expected to die. Although she has started eating more now, she is still at an unhealthy weight.
It is unbelievable to think about how many young girls have been torn down and forced to lose weight by the modeling industry. Not only do they develop awful eating habits, but also self esteem issues because they're constantly reminded they're not skinny enough. Girls are constantly battling with low self esteem, anorexia, and bulimia because they think they have to be tiny to be pretty. I don't think the modeling industry realizes what their harsh weight qualifications are really causing..
As know, Paris is pretty much the fashion central of the world. So while there, they visited some top fashion shows and talked to one specific model, Isabelle Caro. Caro is a former model and suffering with probably the most severe case of anorexia I have ever seen. In the interview Caro explained that a designer told her she had to lose 22 pounds if she ever wanted to model. Isabelle Caro now weighs only about sixty-two pounds. There aren't that many things that really bother me, but this is definately one of them. I don't think you should have to be super skinny to be a model. Ribs, shoulder blades, and a spine sticking out of your body is not attractive... Or healthy. A few years ago, Caro was in a coma and was expected to die. Although she has started eating more now, she is still at an unhealthy weight.
It is unbelievable to think about how many young girls have been torn down and forced to lose weight by the modeling industry. Not only do they develop awful eating habits, but also self esteem issues because they're constantly reminded they're not skinny enough. Girls are constantly battling with low self esteem, anorexia, and bulimia because they think they have to be tiny to be pretty. I don't think the modeling industry realizes what their harsh weight qualifications are really causing..
Friday, September 17, 2010
Blog Post Attempt #2
Wellll, this isn't really my first post. But I deleted the other one.
So let's give this another try :)
Anyways, today.. is Friday!
Oh, and I took my written driver's test yesterday, passed with a 92.
Haha, Olivia :)
I actually just got back from practicing my driving..
So no game for me to go to tonight, awesome.
And... I can sleep in tomorrow :D
Oh. My. Gosh.
I swear I haven't slept in since summer band /:
Then, Maisie's Sweet 16 tomorrow also.
We gonna paaartay :)
[By the way] I have a Twitter. You should follow me.
I get excited when I have new followers :)
So today was an A day. I hate A days.
Mr. Goodwin 1st.. When I'm still sleepy and that's probably the most boring class I've ever taken. Prancers 2nd.. I sweat. Then lunch, and advisory. I like my advirsory class, Coach Howard is hilarious. 3rd is Spanish I, Mrs. Settle is crazy. Thankfully we had a sub today.
And 4th is band, it's still hot outside so it sucks. But it's alright in the mornings on B days.
Yeah, my day was pretty average.
I might write again.. Sometime.. I dunno.
Well bye :)
So let's give this another try :)
Anyways, today.. is Friday!
Oh, and I took my written driver's test yesterday, passed with a 92.
Haha, Olivia :)
I actually just got back from practicing my driving..
So no game for me to go to tonight, awesome.
And... I can sleep in tomorrow :D
Oh. My. Gosh.
I swear I haven't slept in since summer band /:
Then, Maisie's Sweet 16 tomorrow also.
We gonna paaartay :)
[By the way] I have a Twitter. You should follow me.
I get excited when I have new followers :)
So today was an A day. I hate A days.
Mr. Goodwin 1st.. When I'm still sleepy and that's probably the most boring class I've ever taken. Prancers 2nd.. I sweat. Then lunch, and advisory. I like my advirsory class, Coach Howard is hilarious. 3rd is Spanish I, Mrs. Settle is crazy. Thankfully we had a sub today.
And 4th is band, it's still hot outside so it sucks. But it's alright in the mornings on B days.
Yeah, my day was pretty average.
I might write again.. Sometime.. I dunno.
Well bye :)
Monday, September 13, 2010
"I, Too, Sing America" Introductary Paragraph.
In the poem "I, Too, Sing America" by Langston Hughes, the man's optimistic determination is showed by how he is treated so badly because of his color but he believes in his country and knows things will get better. Although many do not treat him as an equal, it doesn't reflect on his attitude. In the line, "They send me to eat in the kitchen when company comes, but I laugh and eat well." It shows how he knows they are wrong and will soon realize it when things do change for the better.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)