Ali and Diana

To Ali-

I enjoyed reading your blogs. I read your about me section first and I thought to myself that your blogs would be an interesting read, I myself enjoy comedy very much. After reading your first blogs it seemed like you were trying a little too hard to make it comedical. (I think I made up that word, but it works.) That was until I read your "Stopped Short" blog post. The punchline at the end was pretty funny, and I didn't expect it until halfway through the last story. I give you major props for that story, it's defiantly in my top three. Then I read your "360" story, that became my favorite story of yours. The perspective you used, making your 360 a puppy/girlfriend was pretty funny, and how it wanted you to switch to high def at the end...great stuff. After those stories I pretty much enjoyed the rest of the stories, very light and funny.

There is one error that you have throughout your blogs. I often fall for this error too, so its not that big of a deal. You tend to you more then one tense when writing a story. One minute you'll be talking like your there and the next is like it was an event in the past. You just have to keep an eye out for that. Also, near the end of your blog you seemed to be destracted and not post some of the post. I enjoyed your stories, so you shouldn't have skipped them.

I think you did a great job in developing your humor, and your grammar also developed more throughout the class.


To Diana-

First I have to start off by saying that you are brave for volenteering at the hospital. I'm not sure how much patient contact you have, but sick, hurt, and the old are not that pleasant to be around, yet you keep such a happy demenor about it. I enjoyed your blogs, how you started off wanting to express yourself more. After reading a couple of blogs I could tell that you started to open up a bit more, especially in "Spending Time with Papi". This was such a warm story, you opened up quite a bit.

I also enjoyed the story "Eventually Took It's Toll." This story added just the right emotion, it was great. In the end I wanted to sit on the couch just to comfort it. It also brought back memories of my old couch that was recently discarded. The next story that I enjoyed was "Short Lived." It shows how much is on a college students mind, and how easy it is to be distracted. A little while after that I could tell that blog post became more homework and was put off a little. But all your stories were still good.

I think that you need to add more detail into your stories. You're good at explaining what is going on in a certain scene, but you sometimes leave out details. I think you should just add a touch more personality, like your final blog post had, and more descreption and you would be golden. It was a pleasure to read your blog post.

french greenbeans

“I think the first thing on the list is pork roast…why are we getting pork roast?” I asked my girlfriend Alyssa.
“Because your family likes it remember? That’s all your dad cooks for me when I come over, so I’m guessing that’s a safe bet.” she replied. This grocery trip was already taking forever, Alyssa had to get everything ready to go to the grocery story. I never understood the concept of making a list, especially when we only needed to get a couple of items. Standing in the frozen food aisle, I realized I was starting to space out as Alyssa grabbed the roast out of the freezer.
“What’s next?” I asked, trying to hurry up the process.
“Potatoes, which one should I get, the garlic or the Italian seasoned?” Alyssa questioned.
“Aren’t those the same? I guess my family likes garlic more, my mom can’t get enough of the stuff.” I took the packet of seasoning and threw it into the cart.
“Goal!” I yelled running down the aisle.
“Come on, what’s next?” Her voice was getting tense, annoyed at my antics.
“Green beans. Don’t we have some of those?“ I asked Alyssa.
“No, I threw those away like three days ago” She Rebutted. As we walked over to the vegetables aisle, I started remembering last Thanksgiving dinner when my dad made those green beans with the French crunchy onions on top.
“Hey babe, can we get those crunchy onion thingies that go on top?” I asked in remembrance of my beloved dish.
“No, we are making steamed green beans with lemon.” She was very adamant about the dinner she was making, everything had to be perfect.
“Fine, I was just kidding anyways!” I lied, I really wanted the French onions. I waited watching Alyssa’s every move, waiting for my moment to escape and retrieve my onions. It seemed like decades before she finally was distracted by some random object. I bolted down the hall, pushing over everything in my way, I was determined to get them before she turned back around. Unfortunately, whatever she was looking at wasn’t that interesting and she caught me just as I got back.
“Drats! I know, I know. I’m putting them back” I walked away slowly defeat.
“I got the beans, what’s next?” Alyssa grew even more impatient with me.
“Salad! And that’s it.” I was glad that I could finally throw away Alyssa’s dumb list. “I hope we never move again, I hate cooking for my family, there’s too many people!”
“Don’t worry Blake it’ll be fine trust me!” She was trying to comfort me but it didn’t work, I still didn’t want to cook dinner.

French Braid

It was my first night of playing ultimate Frisbee at the park with a bunch of guys. When I first came, I told myself that it would be a piece of cake, but I was wrong. Guarding my girlfriend Alyssa became quite the challenge, unfortunately her secret competitive side was showing that particular night, and I was trying not to be to rough with her. The score came down to 11-11, and it ends when a team reaches 13. It was kick off, the opposing team was throwing, and wincing off in the night sky I spotted the shimmering light up Frisbee gliding through the air. Landing a couple feet behind me I let my teammate pick it up, I rushed down the field in a rush.
“Bro, right here man!” I yelled, as I saw him hover the Frisbee in my direction. My adrenaline was rushing, I could feel the sweat dripping from my brow as I sprinted toward the Frisbee. When I came within a foot I reached out my hand hoping that I could somehow manage to save the catch, it brushed across my finger tips.

He had it, there was nothing I could do to stop him. As Blake ran toward the Frisbee, he reached out his hand and it was over, touchdown.
“Good job, this time.” I said sarcastically, “next time I won’t let you get by me.”
“Ha, right! Try to keep up.” When competing Blake can sometimes become a jerk. I wasn’t going to let that keep me down the, they were throwing off and it was my turn for offense. 3, 2, 1, the Frisbee was thrown as I ran down to mid field. I could see the light of the Frisbee making its way up, person to person, small passes was the way my team played, and it was coming straight for me. I looked around to check where Blake was, and couldn’t find him, so I went for it. Swiftly maneuvered my way toward the Frisbee but it turned angles and was heading toward the ground. Trying to be quick on my feet I dove for it, and when I stood up my hands trembled when I realized I caught it.

The catch by Alyssa was amazing, her first time playing and she actually dove for the Frisbee. I invited Alyssa and Blake for a couple of weeks now, and every time Alyssa would answer, “Next week ill defiantly come!” I’m glad she did, we were one point down and she made a caught that I’m sure no one would of made. I ran down the field going to the long pass, hoping Alyssa would see me.
“Eric!” Alyssa screamed, I turned around to find the Frisbee heading strait towards me.
“I got it!” or at least I thought, the guy who has been covering me is extremely fast, I mean cheetah speed., he knocked it down right in front of my face.

I saw that Bro had stolen the disk from Eric, so once again I made my way down field. I felt like someone punched me in the stomach, every step hurt my lungs, I was getting out of shape. As I turned towards Bro I saw the Frisbee drift right pass my head. At that instant, I hoping to God that I didn’t miss the game winning throw. As I looked toward where the Frisbee would go I realized it was to another guy further down the field, he caught it. My first game of ultimate Frisbee and I had already beat my girlfriend.

Living Situations

Family House
“Eat your dinner, I know how many vegetables I put on your plate and you have to eat them all!” The infinite struggle between father and offspring, often called dinner time. Dinner at my place usually begin with menial conversations, then transitioned into an all out war between parents and children. This night was different, my sister Cara wouldn’t budge.
“I ate all of them! See look none left.” she said lying through her teeth, but my dad soon spotted out the carrots hiding underneath her napkin.
“Really, then you would enjoy just one more spoonful, no?” My dad has a way to catch you lying, and turn the tables on you with out a second’s delay. Sitting in silence Cara sat staring at her vegetables, hoping that some how they would just disappear.
While discipline could be a bit harsh around the Dunn household, it always came with its rewards. My dad, being an aspiring cook, would always try to come up with the most delectable dishes, that would always satisfy. Not only was the food good, but if you earned the parental trust, you could practically get away with murder. I remember persuading my parents out of punishing me for breaking curfew or righting an essay to show them that I knew what I was talking about. There was just one rule that none of my siblings could break, and that was finishing dinner.
“Come on Cara, as soon as you eat them, this will all be over!” I encouraged Cara just to eat them and let it be over.
“They are so gross though, I can’t swallow!” Cara started making a gagging sound to illustrate her struggles.
“Well if you eat them with a mouthful of water you can’t taste them.” With this promise Cara slowly staggered through her vegetables and made it through the night.

Dormitory
Living in a dorm, everyone has had one person that drove them absolutely insane, mine was my suite mate Travis. He drove me crazy, not only was he a whiney, pompous ass, but he would never even acknowledge my existence. As I sat watching my 16” television, I heard a tremendous whining sound coming through the vents. It became almost a daily annoyance, some how he managed to make my whole wall shake with his excessively loud sound system.
“Turn it down” I yelled banging on the wall, but it was of no use. Even if he did hear my plea, he was to stubborn to submit to it.
“He’s not going to listen to you, he never does.” My roommate Stephen has lost that battle too many time, and became frustrated with even trying.
“Well, not this time, this is war!” I declared, moving my guitar amplifier to the wall. I started playing, the amp’s volume was only half way, I was sure that he would get the point and turn down the music a little, but I was wrong. Travis then continued to turn the music up even louder.
“How the hell is it getting louder, what type of speakers does he have!” I protested.
I knew that if I didn’t take action that second that Travis would declare himself the winner, and that didn’t’ fit right with me. So I turned my amp back to the wall and continued to play.
“It’s not working you need to get louder” Stephen shouted to me, he had his ear pressed against the wall and could hear Travis laughing.
“Well, I’ll give it all I got” I continued to turn my amp’s volume up. I got up to 7 and I swear that the wall was going to crumble from the two opposing vibrations, but I was determined. It reach 9 when Francis my CA came busting through the door.
“What are you doing! Don’t you know its quite hours! One more note and you be written up so fast!” Francis snarled.
“But Travis, he was playing music and…”I didn’t even get to finish my sentence.
“I know notice how its quite now, I talked to him first, now one more note and I swear.”
“Okay, sorry Francis, I’ll stop.” I said with a huge grin on my face. Travis succumbed to Francis first, meaning I won.

Apartment
I always thought that moving out to my own apartment was going to be great. I would just hang around with my friends all day, playing video games, throwing the football around, it was going to be amazing. Little did I know how the real world worked. Homework became the first problem, trying to find time to have fun, work and still keep up with homework was going to be a challenge. As time went by things worked themselves out and everything started to feel like paradise. That’s when I started having problems with the land lady Erica, the princess of darkness herself. Erica has lied to me and my roommates so many times that I lost count on my fingers and toes, about the price we had to pay, what damages came with the apartment, so on and so forth. It was just horrible living in her establishment.
Then one day I discovered that the electricity bill and water bill had doubled.
“Well, how the hell did this happen?” I was confused because I didn’t use any more water or electricity then last month.
“I don’t know but we have to talk to her!” My roommate Tom replied. We both knew exactly who ‘she’ was and it was the last person we would ever want to see.
“No! I don’t want to she’s just going to lie to us again!” I protested, but I knew it was the only way to solve the problem. After gathering all our bills, we were ready to face her, confident that nothing has changed except some error on her part. We crept up to the office door, and knocked. As we knocked panic grew over me, and soon I felt the intense desire to just run away. Looking over at me Tom nodded, assuring me that we would be the inevitable winner of this battle.
“Hello guys, what can I help you with?” the devil screeched. Soon I felt the rush over me panic again, but this time it was too late, she lured us into her office. After explaining our problem, and presenting our evidence, she snarled.
“Well, I see where you got mixed up, you see you never paid the opening bill.” Erica’s answer didn’t just frustrated me further.
“What opening bill, you never told us about an opening bill!” Tom replied, having great confidence in his answer.
“Yeah.” I repeated showing my support for his answer.
“Well, let me see what I can do.” She was lying, and we called her out. She quickly started typing into her computer and making mmmhhmmm noises as if she was finding some useful information that would help her case. After about five minutes she came back with answer.
“Don’t be mad at me, I’ll just take the money off, as long as you guys promise to not do it again.” She bargained.
“Fine, that’s cool.” Now Tom and I knew that the charge was bogus and she was just trying to cover up for it. This day we won a small battle, but little did we know there would be more to come.

My poem, that doesn't rhyme

“Do you believe in a religion?” Every Sunday I look back at the monotonous days in which I would go to church. It wasn’t always bad when your younger, all the older people went into service, passing though the huge rustic doors, you were able to enjoy your time doing some random arts and craft activity. The smell of glue would fill the air, and glitter would cover your feet. Usually the Sunday school teacher would drone on and on about some prayer , I just focused on her desk and hoping that today she would finally let us use the cotton balls that have been silently sitting there all year..
Sooner or later thought it all faded away, nothing but a vast memory, as I was pushed through the dreaded confirmation classes. The smell of glue vanished with the on set of freshly sharpened pencils. The teacher also changed, she made us pay attention, claiming that God is watching my every move. Even with that in mind, my wooden pencil would find a way to become lost on the paper drawing figures and faces that had nothing to do with Jesus. This ritual would continue weekly, seeming to be wasting away my Sunday into nothing more then mere doodle sessions, that is until the day you become confirmed.
Standing on the stage in a rather clerical white robe, sitting, standing, waiting to recite your text from the holy book. Looking over the crowd, I noticed that no one was wearing a smile except my rather cheerful parents. Holding up there cheap Kodak cameras, the ones that you would just throw away once you finished using, just sitting in anticipation for my dreaded moment. Then it came, I stood, knees shaking, hoping that I would not forget a line, and then it was over. The very moment that I had been preparing for was finally over, the room stood still and everything was quite except the constant flickering of candles, it all was over.
Since then going to church hasn’t been so mundane, partly since I work Sundays, but also because I’m going on my own terms.

Two stories that I can talk about are...

English is not one of my strong suits, but I try none the less. I have enjoyed only a small handful of the stories that we were assigned to read in class. One of those stories is called Three Fragments by Charles Simic. This story has a lot of voice, you can tell what is going through the writers head at any moment. Also, this story has a contrast of emotions that area all tied in together. Personally I think that it is a great story. What I would like to take from it is the contrast of emotions. In the beginning he is telling a humorous story about how he once had a helmet full of lice. At the end of the story you realize how he obtained the helmet and the story instantly changes moods.

Another story that I enjoyed reading was The Drama Bug by David Sedaris. This story was refreshing, it was comical throughout and had great voice. Although it was a longer reading, the light comedy and the dialog kept me entertained. From this story I want to take the dialogue. It had such interesting dialogue that kept me interested in what was going on in the story. It also added a sense of personalization, It made me feel like I knew the characters, this is something I need in my blogs.

The Three Fragments, became two.

“I told him, but does Blake ever listen? Noooo!” My friend Tom was once again reciting one of the many stories he holds so dear to his heart. This time, it was a story about this one girl that I admittedly shouldn’t have gone out with. “Remember Blake, I said she must have herpes or something! What did I say!” Every single time he tells this dumb story I always receive a lecture about how ‘stupid’ I was. Tom thinks he knows the whole story, he thinks I told him everything; little does he know, he knows nothing except the bare shell of what really went down.

After a bad break up, I went bowling with a couple of friends, who in turn invited more friends. One of them was named Herpes. (Not really but I don’t like to say her real name.) She was a short, skinny, blonde girl who by an average judgment was pretty good looking. After bowling, me and her talked for a little bit. It was refreshing, someone who actually liked the bands I liked, and who loved just doing random things for fun. Afterwards she gave me her number and told me to call. Her number was burning a hole in my phone. I so badly wanted to text or call her, but thought if I waited a couple of days she might like me even more. It was horrible logic, but it worked. We went out on a couple of dates, all in all everything was going well. Every time I looked at her I just thought that Tom must be wrong. Then on one date I noticed she was texting another guy. It didn’t bother me though, who knows maybe it’s her friend, maybe she’s dating more then one person, it didn’t matter because I was with her at that second. I was wrong, it did matter though that she kept doing it, rejecting me when I was in her presence! I was very disgruntled, I had to end! I absolutely hate it when people are disrespectful towards me. I couldn’t stand to think that someone was just using me. I remember this conversation very well, it was so oblique and depressing. There was one phrase she used that I could never forget. “All the other guys don’t mind, they know what I’m doing.” After that it was pretty easy to break up with her.

The next day I received a phone call from my friend Tom. “ Blake! Remember when I told you she probably has herpes! Well guess what!” There was no need for an answer, it was quite obvious. Fortunate for myself, aware that she was doing something fishy, I never did anything with her.

“OH! Blake remember Leah!” Tom was at it again, telling stories embarrassing stories about me, but this story crossed the line. It was the most embarrassing story about me and my ex-girlfriend, and Tom was about to reveal it to my new girlfriend Alyssa.
“Tom, I swear to God! Not one more word!” I threatened, but it didn’t make a difference.
“You see he use to have a girlfriend by the name of Leah….” Tom started his story, time was running short, I had to do something. In a state of panic I did the only thing that came to mind. I ran across the room as fast as I could, my veins were sticking out, adrenaline rushing through my body, I was going to stop him. With one great leap I thrust Tom to the floor.
“Not one more word!” He looked at me and instantly knew he crossed the line.
“Maybe I’ll tell this one a little later.” As I let him off the floor, I new it would only be time before he attempted to tell this story again.

banana phone

1.) Living in Tempe, having to drive down to Mesa to work is defiantly a pain. So I have to make sure that I have all of my belongings before I leave for work. Unfortunately, I often forget my lunch at the apartment and am forced to eat hospital food. Its even worse when I forget to bring my homework or the charger to my computer or cell phone. I even have forgot my cell phone a couple times, I use to be addicted to my cell phone. I mean I was crazy addicted always texting my girlfriend relentlessly, which she didn’t mind at all. When I forgot my cell phone it was already to late to go back to get it, or was it? I drove all the way back to Tempe just to grab my cell phone and ended up an hour late to work.

2.) When I was 16 I decided it was time for me to buy my own cellular phone. Craving the ability to get all of my friends numbers, maybe get a special girls number, the possibilities were endless. My parents made me promise to do my research and get a cell phone plan that I could afford and that included the features I needed, mostly texting. I spent hours doing my research…looking up Version, Sprint, AT&T, Cingular, and Cricket. The company Cricket seemed too good to be true. Unlimited everything for forty dollars a month! That was insane, I could text like a thousand times a thousand times and still call for hours on end. When I got my brand new cell phone from my brand new cell phone from Cricket I decided it was to good to be true, I had no coverage anywhere, I guess I should of learned more about the company before making a decision.

3.) Driving down the freeway, I grew bored, as I often do and decided to make up a game. I remember from many road trips where one person would try to find a word that begins a letters of the alphabet usually starting with the letter A then continuing in alphabetical order till Z. So I quickly took out my cellphone and took a picture of a word that started with the letter A. I sent it to my girlfriend and she knew quickly what I was trying to do and said that we would start the game once I was stopped driving, because like usual people, she was afraid of death. Everyone forgot of my sad attempt to start a fun game until the next day. While in class she sent me a picture with the letter B. The rest of the day was full of the adventure, running around Tempe searching for the rest of the alphabet.

Out the window

Starring out the window all I can see is a stucco wall and most of a tree. The breeze is gently drifting in the morning air and is gently brushing against a tree, who is shivering in reply. Occasionally pigeons like to perch themselves in that large tree, to do pigeon-y things, mostly just sit there. Everything seems peaceful outside, but in my head a different story emerges. I’m trying to focus on the outside world, but thinking of everything that needs to be done with in a couple short hours. About how I mistakenly wrote this blog late, and how I swore to myself that I wouldn’t be late again.

Regaining focus, I try to concentrate on the faint outline of cars through the trees thick branches. How day after day, it seems as if only some of them get used, while the rest seem to be rejected and set aside. They also seem to be impenetrable to the winds power, not budging an inch to the winds soft breeze. Then once again my mind starts to wonder to the night where the wind was not so forgiving. When the mighty wind pushed trees upon many of those cars months ago. Then my mind falls into the trap of school work again. How I need to complete two essays this weekend. I also need to study to keep my grades up.

It almost seems like irony, the way the world works. What we perceive and what we think. Like outside can be so peaceful yet in you mind there is utter chaos. It also seems to be ironic in the way that just one variable, such as the speed of the wind, could make so much of a difference. Every thing tries to balance its self out in the end, also my mind is clouded and chaotic right now, I am sure that it will even itself out and be focused in a couple of hours.

A Case of the Mondays

I know that I have already had three blogs about my work, but I worked today so here’s another great hospital story! Walking down the halls, often I exchange pleasantries with my fellow hospital employees, they are pointless, but some how vital to keep up moral. This day was no different than any other, walking by the secretaries desk, one of the nurses approached, with a great big smile asked, “So Blake, how was your day?” As usual, her name evaded me, but it was evident that in her dark blue scrubs she was in fact a nurse. So I dodge the whole situation by calling her ‘hey’. I inhaled and took a moment thinking about how I would respond, I started to mess around with the pockets of my very faded, overly worn wine colored scrubs trying to concentrate. Should I just go with the flow and tell her it was good, or maybe bannerific (named after the hospital I work at, Banner Baywood) or maybe just tell her exactly how its going.

Just in a daze about how I was going to answer this seemingly simple question I started to reflect upon my day. Earlier in one of my rooms a patient was under contact precautions. This simply means they have a nasty virus or infection that is easily spreadable and really sucks to get so you put on a plastic gown and gloves to avoid direct contact with the patient. This patient simply did not respect me for what ever reason, I’m too young, I look like a hippy, or whatever, he just simply would not respect me. He wouldn’t listen to the advice I was giving him, and even yelled at me to help him with his legs, and he continued to make it worse and explained to the nurse that he doesn’t like it when people just stand around, when I was literally in the middle of trying to help him. Which I really do not understand, how can you stand, sit, lay there when A) you can’t even walk by yourself and B) your wearing a dress that waves just enough to get an eye full of bottom.

Then I reflected about joking around with my mom on one of her floors. You see my mom is the director of nursing on the fourth floor, and is a pretty easy going person, so her nurses are pretty easy going with me, therefore are pretty friendly. I overheard my mom talking to one of her coworkers saying,
“Oh, there’s my son…blah, blah, blah”. Then, like usual, the person said, “Oh, I didn’t know that he was your son!” You see him saying that was a mistake, because whenever this happens my mom drops everything she’s doing to run me down and stick her face right against mine and say “ See we look just a like!” So when I saw her lunging for me I yelled across the room “No, I’m not your son strange lady!”. I was hoping that other people would be like wow that is a strange lady, since my mom looks like a civilian clothes, and doesn’t wear scrubs with the rest of us. Unfortunately, the all the nurses new who she so they immediately started laughing. Just then my mom grabbed my face and did the same thing she does every time.

I could tell that the nurse was starting to worry about me taking such a long time to respond. Knowing I had to respond quickly, I searched my thoughts for one more second.
“Well, it was a Monday.” I responded.
“Ya, same here she responded, can’t wait for it to end!”
“Ha, ya me too, just three more short hours and I’m free.”
She left with a smile, and I knew that my answer satisfied her question.

One of a kind, except there are many more like you. The good thing is that your serial number makes you unique, you’re the only one to have it. Hanging up on the wall of Richardson’s Music, a store that has long gone out of business, you dazzled, brilliantly blue. I remember the day, I finally saved up enough money to remove you from that wall, you were free. Man, how we had fun that summer, playing the summer blues away.
We use to bring friends over to join us in our conquest of rock, only to fail several times, to my distraught. Through all of that, you prevailed. When weeks turned to days, days turned to months, months to years, you were with me through the good times and the bad. Bullet is you name, as you display proudly on your head, to the right of the tuners.
Now you sit lifeless, in a bag you call home. Gave you to a loved one, yet your all alone. Your string is broke, and all out of tune. I can’t believe what happened to you. It’s all my fault you see, I lost interest and bought a replacement for thee. Don’t worry though because recently it was treated like shit. Now though, since it was expensive I have to take better care of it.
What about you, what will become? Well, I’ll save you, you see! Until our song is song!


Ha! I had fun writing this blog!

My two readings

One of the essays I chose for this blog was “The American Male at Age Ten” by Susan Orlean. This essay, which I sadly tried hard to keep my biography close too, and failed, is a great biography. It takes a person named Colin Duffy and reflects upon his childhood, as if you were there to see if for yourself. I found it a hilariously good idea about making fake evil spider webs, in fact I should probably find a way to do it to my roommate. That whole story made me feel as if I knew Colin myself. I think it’s the amount of detail that would benefit me the most. I can honestly say that I lack the attention to detail in my blogs to make them great. In the future I am going to try to pay more attention to this, and try harder to apply more detail. Another great thing about this essay is the voice. The author makes the story sound so genuine, I almost think that Colin is a ten year old kid and the writer is just doing the essay for one of her elementary school essays.
The second essay I chose for this blog was “Reading History to my Mother” by Robin Hemley. This essay took a normal everyday scenario, a son hanging out with his mother, and made it ”some what interesting”. I say this because I found it quite dry, but just the care the writer but into the essay was fantastic. The writer put great effort in explaining this scenario, and make it flow evenly and was grammatically great. This is something that I need in my post. Just more attention to grammatical, and how to extend an essay about nothing so it is longer. I mean heck, this guy wrote ten pages about his mom.

football story

The ball was kicked, the crowd was rawring for my Dad to return the ball. Unfortunately he couldn’t run fast enough and was taken down by some big guy with the number 65 on his jersey. Almost in tears my mom reassured me that he would be fine. Even at the age of 8 I knew that the clock was counting down and being down by 6 points wasn‘t exactly the best situation. “Come on dad!!!” I yelled with great enthusiasm, knowing that everyone there, painted in gold and maroon was there, cheering for my dad, just like me. “Hike!” The clock started again. Utterly confused, I kept my attention drawn to number 23. The ball was heaved across the field, but fell short of a different receiver. Again the same play, except this time the ball was almost picked off by the other team. I felt desperate, not able to give any support except with my cheers, that seemed to be overwhelmed and drowned out by the crowd. It was third down, something had to happen, or else the season with be over with a loss. “Hike!” the quarterback yelled again. The ball was thrown into the air, headed directly for my father. I could barely watch as the ball touched his hands. After that I couldn’t believe my eyes as he took off down the field, his legs were moving so fast I thought they would have to fall off pretty soon. The bad man chasing after my dad was also moving really fast, too fast, oh no. Just before he could catch my dad it was over, touchdown.

Slumdog Millionare

Recently I saw the movie Slumdog Millionaire with my girlfriends. This provocative movie started out as an Indie flick and grew in popularity until it found it’s home in the mainstream media. I feel that his movie has so many different aspects that made it such a good movie, that if used, one could translate into non-fiction writing. To start off, this movie had a lot of character build up. The director allowed the audience to build a relationship with the characters. You know that sufficient character development has been build when you get to that part of the movie where you yell at the main character to duck or run faster, you want them to succeed, you feel for them. Once you feel for the characters, it doesn’t matter what the rest of the movie is, you care what happens to them.

Depth is another element that is essential to movies and writing. Obtaining background information, about a character or a concept, lets the audience understand where the character is coming from or how they got to where they are. Slumdog millionaire did this by telling the story of how the main characters met and developed relationships over the years. It is really disappointing when you read a book or go to the movies and the concept surrounding the movie is amazing you just want to know more about it, and it ruins it entirely. This element is closely related to character development, but this element could also be used in
conjunction with ideas or concepts around a premise of a movie or book.

A very important, yet simple element that is used in this movie that is essential to every text is the outline: introduction, rising action, climax, falling action. Very basic but important part of any story, it has to build to something; for example, you couldn’t write a story about going down a slide, only describing your feelings and how bad you wanted to ride it, yet never telling the audience if you did it or not.

Another element that could be used in both in movies and writing is what I like to call the ‘time element’. In Slumdog Millionaire, the movie is made up of two sections, the current time, which is usually the character telling a story , which is the second part of the story. In Slumdog Millionaire, the main character is in a police station telling the detective his story, and how his journey through life lead him to know all the answers on Who Wants to be a Millionaire. So the movie is separated into two distinct times. I personally think it would be awesome if you could pull this off in a non fiction writing, it certainly would keep me entertained, it gives it almost a mysterious feel about it, because you know the outcome, but you don’t know how it got to that point.

Humor in the work place

I have been working at Banner Baywood Medical Center for the past three years. My job consist of transporting patients to different modalities throughout the hospital, down for test and back up to their room. In doing so, I come across a variety of obstacles, having to transfer patients who have become too weak or old to walk, dealing with the unpleasantries of the ‘oh so modest’ hospital gowns, and occasionally dodging the droppings of incontinent patients. Usually referring my job as my gloomy demise, I really don’t mind working their since my fellow transporters are pretty nice and I have a lot of friends that work in different departments. Unfortunately, yesterday at work had turned out to be a Monday, if you catch my drift.
The climax of my downtrodden day occurred when I tried to bring a patient to CT. I knocked and opened the door to a patients room. “Transport” I declared, as to not confuse the patient why a total stranger was in their room. “I’m here to take you down stairs…” That’s when I saw a C.N.A trying vigorously to get a rather aged lady’s blood pressure. “ Oh sorry” I said confused at first, “I though you were the nurse for a second,” (before you take a patient down stairs the nurse must be informed of what is going on).
“Well, I’m not, you have to find the nurse first!” the C.N.A said without comprehending what I had just said.
“I know, that’s why I’m trying to find her” I was rather aggravated with her initial response to me in front of the patient. It was rather rude and unnecessary for her to talk to me with that much lack of respect. In response to me she just muttered something I couldn’t quite make out. Luckily for me I just saw the nurse walk by out side the door, I immediately chased after her.
After C.N.A left, the nurse and I immediately put the room together to fit my gurney in the undersized room to make it less of a distance for her to walk. It was finally time to get the older lady on my gurney and finally complete my run. We grabbed her with one person under each arm to ensure she wouldn’t fall on us and started to walk her the few feet to my stretcher. “Oh Crap!” the Nurse said with frustration in her voice. I looked down, and sure enough there was crap on the floor. After dodging the floor droppings I finally got the patient on the cart and the nurse cleaned her up before I left with her to CT. I was finally done with that run!
A couple hours later I was approached by another transporter who was eager to tell me a story about a patient he just had. “You wouldn’t believe it…I stood this lady up and she just went all over the C.N.A’s shoes!” Aaron had a slight smile on his face.
“Wait, was it in patient in room ###?” I asked him hoping it was the lady I brought down earlier.
“Ya, how’d you know?” he said now questioning the value of his story.
I just smiled at him and said, “ I had her earlier”.

My Three Stories

STORY 1
When I was 16 my mom, like all other moms do to their kids, started to hassle me about getting a job so that I could stop leaching off of her wallet. After many failed attempts and months of 'searching' for jobs around my community, my mom took it upon herself to get me a job as a Patient Transporter at the local hospital. At first I thought it was great, I did not even have to try to get this job because my mom just happened to be one of the Director of Nurses their and had some power to throw around, and that would also make my job so much easier.

I soon found out I was far from right. My first day consisted of getting lost numerous times in the gigantic labyrinth known as Banner Baywood Medical Center. Seven floors of just utter confusion, not to mention the billions of codes I needed to memorize to grant myself entrance into different departments.

I also forgot to mention that I started the job in the dead middle of winter. As you all know, if you have lived in Arizona for any amount of time, winter equals snowbirds. Snowbirds for all intensive purposes basically live at the hospital. Along with the mass craze of snowbirds the term code purple, emergency department overflow, came into normal conversation as any other term.

At the end of my day I remember one lady in particular. As I was taking her up from the E.D to her room and had the most peculiar conversation with her. I could go into greater detail but their is honestly too much that happened and it would be rather difficult to finish the other two stories. I so I will some up the conversation, just keep in mind I have never met this lady before and she probably had dimensia. As i began to talk to her she described in great detail about how last time I saw her that i brutaly killed her dogs and left them for her to clean, afterwards she started to bark at me. I was horribly scared.


STORY 2
Every teenager dreams of the day that they finally move out of their house and into an aparment, where no one can control them or tell them what to do, need less to say I was one of those teenagers.

I had rented out an apartment with two of my good friends from highschool, Tom Dinovo and Nate Chesko. The great thing was not only was I living with two of my best friends, but also my girlfriends apartment was located about three feet away. Everything in the apartment was great except for a couple discrepancies with the land lady and a few with a roommate every now and then, I was practically in heaven.

There was one night I remember inparticular upon the first few months of staying in the apartment. I was watching a movie with my roomies and my girl when it started to rain outside. Like any true Arizonian I ran outside in glee and frolicked in the rain. After a couple minutes I was accompanied by my roomies. Out of no where the rain turned into liquid bullets and the wind became powerful enough to bend the antenna to my beloved car Betsy. Thats when I started getting nervous, rain like this is not normal. Soon I heard a snap, and in a haste of hurry yelled out "watch out!!" and ran like hell barely avoiding a tree which also came unsettling close to Betsy.

This storm seemed to go on for hours and destorying everything in its path. After the terror has passed, I went out side to observe the destruction. The pathes both in and out of the apartment complex were blocked by massive trees, and side walks along the complex where thrown into the air. It was an overall scary scene that is hard to describe.

STORY 3
In life I find that it is important to have an activity that you dedicate yourself to and keeps you entertained for long periods of time. Activities liek this not only to keep one out of trouble but to also help one feel a sense of accomplishment. For me this activity is playing guitar. I have been playing since freshman year of highschool. I have been in countless bands, gave guitar lessons and have so far achieved nothing but experience. There is one expereince I remember specifically, when I tried to play on Mill.

One day I had the bright idea, since I was broke, to go play on Mill to make a handful of cash. So I walked out to Mill with my guitar in hand and enthusiam in my heart. Walking down Mill I scouted out the perfect spot, a bus bench that was right before the coffee plantaition. It was perfect, everyone would be able to see me, im my mind that ment more money. Unfortunatly for me, I tried playing on Mill on a Wednesday. I soon learned that no one walks down Mill on Wednesday except for poor, starving college students. After half an hour I packed up my guitar and called it quits with nothing but a fallen leaf in my guitar case. As I walked away disappointed I was caught off guard by a man asking me if I could keep a secret. He intrigued me so I said I would, filled with antisipation I was eagerly awaiting his secret. He walked closer and whispered "Jesus Loves You". To say the least I was disappointed and walked the rest of the way home with my head down hoping next time I would make my first dollar playing gutiar.

Dad

All my life my mother has taught me that family is an important detail to life. A simple idea, that seems flawless, yet ironic when you never had a dad. Luckily for me, at the age of 12 the term dad began to have some meaning.
It all started in late August when my mom took me to see her new boyfriend; but that’s not the moment I want to focus on so we are going to fast forward to a date I have long forgotten. It must have been months after my mom and her new boyfriend Shawn had been dating, when for the first time she left us alone with him. Although I cannot remember the date, I can certainly remember the incident perfectly, at least the important stuff.
I remember that Shawn was driving me and my brother, Brock, somewhere and looking out through the side window, not seeing much except the occasional street light and car passing by being eaten by the darkness as the sun set. When out of no where he started talk about how he loved my mom and liked spending time with her. I tuned out, for some reason I wasn’t paying attention too much, and I honestly think that my brother was to excited by the fact that he had called shotgun leaving me in the back seat alone, to pay attention either. Then what Shawn was saying caught my attention, “When we go home I’ll set some ice cream on fire so you can eat it. Also, I was wondering if I could Marry your mother?” I could tell that he knew that we weren’t paying too much attention to what he had to say , therefore he used the words ice cream and fire to catch my attention before hitting me with a question. Me and Brock quickly looked at each other and instantly I could tell that he was thinking the same thing as me.
“Heck yes” we both yelled. You see the years before we never really had a dad just two fathers who would never even think about asking us such a question, so for him even asking meant an instant yes. He also kept sort of kept his word about the ice cream. He had difficulty igniting the ice cream, and never even came close, but at least he tried. That was the one thing that I really like about my now dad, he would always try no matter how ridiculous the claim. Even when he said he would become my dad.

Blog #1. Fate

“FATE”

Let it be known that before this story begins that I am not one for directions. By this, it would be an understatement for me to say that I get lost just driving across the street to the grocery store. With this in mind, my story all begins on one warm Arizona autumn night. After attempting to make our latest you tube video ‘Attack of the Killer Kitten’, which turned out to be a major flop, my friends and I all were starved and all had major writer’s block so we couldn’t even think of where to eat. This marks the beginning of my amazing adventure. Driving down Mill we saw all of the same old restaurant, none of them sounded appetizing at all.
“Dennys?” I was calling out random restaurants as we drove by, only getting grumbles in reply. “Fine! I’ll keep driving then,” I said angrily, being the only person once again to give suggestions. Driving around seemed to take forever and every restaurant we passed by got shot down. I saw the same restaurants on ever street corner, the same boring food we have had week after week, in return we were getting a bit discouraged.
“Maybe we should just turn around and order pizza,” Alyssa said, bored and irritable.
“No! We have already used all of Blake’s gas, what is the point of turning around?” Nate said now hungry and now grumpy, his love for food would soon over take his body in a fit of rage if we didn‘t feed him soon.
“I say we just stop at the next p….”. Tom couldn’t finish the sentence before a booming noise interrupted him. It seems that I had neglected to change my cars tires and one had blown on us in the middle of our journey. Like usual whenever something bad happens every time I drive, everyone freaked out yelling at me to pull over. As I followed their order and moved into the next parking lot available, I soon realized that some how with all of my directional skills had some how drove almost back to our dorms and ended up in the parking lot of IHOP.
“Well I guess this will do…” Barker said with a rather content sound in his voice, the four of us agreed and went inside. I don’t know what factors contributed to this meal, but it was honestly the best food run we have ever had. Everything was just cooked to perfection. Ever since this fateful trip, we have made it tradition that before we part ways in the beginning and in the end of each semester we make an IHOP run to celebrate. It seemed like fate was with us that night, and this is a story I’ll never forget.