Journal Entry 51
Reflect on your final project. Why did you choose
it and what do you think you learned from the
process of creating it?
I chose it because of 3 reasons. I thought a poem would be too "short" for a final project, also during FINAL WEEK (UGH!) I just didn't have that poetic inspiration under all that pressure. My ComicLife skills were comparable to those of my nine-year old brother, and I knew writing a short story would be a stressing lengthy process and I was pretty good at making up stories. So that's why I chose essay to improve my writing. I learned that in order to write an essay, the format structure is very defined, and it has to be a certain way. I wrote it like a short story would read. No, an essay has a purpose for each paragraph and a topic sentence, and a thesis. I think I knew that already, but I just didn't know it for real. This final project made me realize that format and organization of an essay.
Journal Entry 50
Write about someone you would love to see put in jail.
I would LOVE to put a character that I recently read in a book House of Scorpion, El Påtron into jail. El Påtron is a very old, powerful, wealthy man who is 143 years old. He made clones of himself, with spare parts to provide him enough life. Then, he basically sucks the feelings and the soul out of the clone so that the person is just a mechanical being. I think he should be put into jail. It's very immoral, and all he wants is greed. I hate him. He is so merciless to others, and only thinks of himself, everything he needs to have to make sure he's happy.
Journal Entry 49
Write about a task, job, or chore you dislike.
A task that I really dislike is taking notes for my history class from the textbook. Not that the actual history class is BORING or anything, it's just that I don't like doing homework for history class. It's usually tedious, and I don't prefer our class vacillating from textbooks and to informative PDF files so much, because it's hard to keep a track of where we are learning. That is what I really hate doing, especially near the end of the year.
Journal Entry 48
Do you agree that if you give respect, you get it? Explain.
Yes, I think for the vast majority of people, that whatever you get, you should give. Whatever you do will always come back--it's not just a one time thing. So if you are very friendly, well mannered, and nice to others, they will too, in turn, to be nice to you. Unless there are some exceptions where people are so bad-natured that they are mean to kindness. But most of the time, I do believe that if you give respect, you will get respect.
Journal Entry 47
Use the all of the following words in a story: plastic bottle, baseball, dirty, handkerchief, crumpled note, unhinged door.
"Where am I getting all these gifts from?!" I exclaimed, as I opened my tin blue locker and discovered a monogrammed, textured handkerchief of the finest silk, literally spun from silkworms.
"Who knows?" Margalo replied indifferently, slamming her locker, right beside me. "Maybe you have a secret admirer!" Couple rings, cookies, those cool neon flip flops, and a pristine necklace had been left for me, in my locker, in the same exact spot.
I shrugged, and took a long swig from my Vitamin Water. We went to the baseball diamond for lunch where it was littered with Nutrigram wrappers and Gatorade plastic bottles. We ate our lunches beside the field, chatting. Then it was time for science. Margalo scurried off to European history, while I headed for the chemistry classroom.
Time seemed to slow down its pace during Mrs. Kelpser's lecture. I snoozed and took notes. But the strange sight was Martin, behind her, he seemed to be very intensely taking notes, scribbling with his #2 pencil, but he had a lot of crumpled notes around him. Serena and Chelsea picked one up, and started giggling furiously when they read one of them.
As soon as the bell rang, I stood up abruptly and bolted out.
"Deena!" Margalo yelled after me. I waved and we went down to the gym together. We were out in the gym, doing jumprope as our warmup exercise, when I saw Martin look at me and pale, then scuttle across the gym into the P.E. storage room. Then I noticed something big, he had exactly the same pair of flip flops as me, only his were black. I looked down at my bright yellow ones. Could this be..? He jumped and leapt through the unhinged door.
"Wait!" I shouted after him. I had to shout again 2 more times before he actually stopped and turned around, his face flaming red.
"I didn't mean to give you all those couple rings, matching flip flops, and that handkerchief," he said to me shyly. "I accidentally confused your locker with Margalo's," he told me.
Journal Entry 46
Reflect on this digital story telling project
I thought it was a really simple project for me--it was a lot stress-free than other projects for sure!
The limit on the pictures really didn't matter to me, I already plotted out what I'm going to use, so I didn't have any problem with that. However, the problem for me was FINDING the pictures, it took a long time to go through my old pictures and get the perfect pictures that would match perfectly with my dialogue. Since mine also needed some look-back, Californian memory pictures, It wasn't always perfect, I tried my best to find pictures that would match my theme, and I had to work with what I had. I also had to find music that matched with my theme. I think this was a fun project for me because it was like talking to your friends about a certain memory that happened in your life, but through pictures, and pictures are worth a thousand words and descriptions. I think this was much better than writing a memoir, sort of like new modern digital memoir. I liked other people's as well, I liked Rachel's idea and project, especially the intro how the music matched the music, I liked how Sophia's was put-together, and I liked how Christine HJ's had sad and touching feel about her rabbit.
Journal 45
Free Write
Shona came around the shimmering pool that scintillated in the moonlight. The lights sparkled and winked, a promising sign.
But Shona wasn't buying it.
Her eyes blurred, tears misted up in her eyes, she saw her life all blur before her. Like a flashback of 13 years.
13 years. 13 years she has waited for this moment. Well, technically 1, ever since she turned 13. She couldn't bear it anymore. It was too heavy on her poor, bony shoulders. She was done and through being a slave. Tired of believing that a princess version of Cinderella does not exist. Shona kicked off her red and orange striped flip flops and took out a small pocketknife. She took out the glossy Justin Timberlake poster, and flipped it over to the black, Sharpie-writing on the back. Using the pocketknife, she pricked her forefinger, and a tiny teardrop-shaped drop of bright red blood emerged. it dripped down her finger, palm, and onto the poster where it seeped through the paper material. She sighed, and knew it will be the last time she sighed.
She stood up and adjusted her swim suit and fell face-first into the pool and let her hair poof out about her. She could see the bottom, and as she was sinking, she expected to touch it any moment. But in fact, she just kept on sinking, and the bottom seemed endless.
Journal Entry 44
List 12 things you can buy with your last 20,000 won
1. a supreme sized grand Ferro Rocher basket with chocolate sticks that is about the height of my brother
2. a cardigan or a button-down shirt on sale at Zara
3. a pair of shoes
4. a sauteed seafood pasta dish
5. a small pizza pie
6. a charger or headphones if I buy it from my brother
7. a yoga mat and Pilates ball
8. a small bed for my puppy
9. the Harry Potter novel set
10. a skateboard
11. 2 paperback books
12. 20,000 won
Journal Entry 43
"Yipes" said the zebra. "I've lost my stripes." Continue the paragraph, using as many words as you possibly can that rhyme with yipes.
"Yipes!" said the zebra. "I've lost my stripes!"
"What?" said the cow, heartily eating grass. "Can't listen while I glut."
"Oh, fipes! My stripes! Where did they go? Off they're wiped, my stripes! I used to be so ripe with stripes, and now, they have been wiped! Off my body!
"Oh, darn right, you look like a just-born foal without coal marks," the cow remarked.
"Yipes! What type of zebra there is without black, ripe stripes!
"Be careful," the cow warned. "Your case of stripes wiped may be hyped."
"Oh yipes! Oh fipes! My ripe stripes have been wiped! Zebras without stripes is not Desiree's [his fiance] type! And if this embarrassing scenario gets hyped, what will she think of me now?
The cow shook his head sadly while the zebra rambled on.
Journal Entry 42
There are only three words in the English Dictionary that start with DW:
Dwell, dwindle, and dwarf. Write a paragraph that incorporates all three of these DW words
Journal May 13th 2024
People pick on me. Yup, that's right they do. But don't get me wrong, they never dare to say something straight up in my face. And you probably will know WHY people pick on me. You see, I'm a dwarf. A victim of dwarfism. I'm unusually short, probably the size of a petite nine-year old while I'm in my middle ages. I kind of look like Danny Devito. I am a super organized, rather wealthy (if you will), important, smart CEO of a multi-national, global, company: Katoya Inc. What is Katoya? We are a HUGE technology company. We sell electronic books, in fact, we are the ONLY source of decent, upgraded electronic books, transparent touch-screen laptops, foldable platinum-screen TV's, sound wave CD players, Katids, Katid computers, organizers made of "kanster", an electronic blue slime with precise electro-chemicals and a motherboard. Oh, yes, we beat Apple, Samsung, Sony, all those clever-but-not-enough companies. We kicked all their sorry butts. My house that I dwell in is beyond conceivable. I have 19 bedrooms, 6 of which are my own private suite bedrooms with state-of-art facilities. I have 5 swimming pools, 3 saunas, 1 skating rink, 2 bowling alleys, 4 movie theaters, 24 bathrooms including some big grand ones with several bathtubs and shower booths, and countless gardens. I have a Parthenon-style front yard to the entrance, if you look from the entrance door, it looks like all the marble white pillars are dwindling as they go afar. It's a prodigious mansion, and I'm proud to declare I'm the only one living in it. I have a Katid InstaGPS wired into my kanster phone so if I go to that application, it shows a whole map of my house and who's (referring to robotic (Katoya personalized) maids and butlers) doing what in where. Beat the whole Maurderer's Map, doesn't it?
Wordle
Entry 41
List 10-15 things worth saving and then choose one to write about.
1. photos of my friends and families
2. ALL of my attempted diaries in the past :)
3. my stories that I wrote when I was bored, poems, fairy tales, short stories, stuff
4. my collection of candles
5. boxes of shells, fake starfishes that I got at Laguna Beach
6. my Macbook including its case and headphones
7. some of my favorite books
8. some of my all-time favorite, can-watch anytime anywhere movies
9. my puppy Toto
10. that cute navy blue and white trimmed sailor dress I wore when I was young
11. my first charm bracelet
12. my first cellphone
One thing I really want to save is the adorable navy blue and white sailor dress that I wore. When I was a baby, that would be my signature clothing because that was the priciest thing I had when I was little. What's so special about this dress you may ask. I had this dress, and when I grew out of it, I passed it onto my cousin Emily who was only 3 months younger than me. Emily then passed it to our younger cousin, Nicole, who wore it all the time like me and Emily. After Nicole grew bigger, she gave it to Amanda, our youngest girl in our family tree on my maternal side, and Emily's sister. And now, we're waiting for our still-single uncle to marry and produce a daughter so we can give that dress to her. That dress has been around for so many years, and I wonder whose wardrobe is it in now. I really do hope my aunts didn't give that dress away to someone because I wanted to keep it, well, because I started that tradition. It's a really pretty dress to, with silky sailor navy blue fabric, and a soft white wide collar flap that folds over your shoulders. There is an anchor monogram on the corner of the wide collar flap. It's very conservative, preppy, and sweet looking.
Entry 40
Take two people who dislike each other and stick them in the backseat of a cab. What happens?
The yellow taxicab rolled right around the corner, when a hurrying Salt was flagging his arm frantically for a taxi.
Sugar was already inside, and she scowled at the driver, for stopping to take Salt in. Salt quickly opened the door and slid in, bumping into Sugar.
"Ow! Watch it, you!" Sugar barked.
"Well, it's customary to make room for an incoming guest!"Salt shot right back
"I did, you rude little snot ball!"Sugar yelled
"Well it's not my fault that your rear is so huge!"
Sugar's sweet little mouth fell agape. "You DID JUST not say that!!"
Salt smiled. "I believe I just did."
"My rear is SO not large! I'm on a strict diet, taking care of my own personal body, unlike you, Mr. Greasy-Fatty-Bratty-acts-like-a-know-it-all-when-you're-so-not SALT!
"Oh and I'm sure YOU are very healthy and clean too, you being in grease-fried doughnut twists, and frosting-filled Cinnabons!
"You!" Sugar shrieked and grabbed Salt's hair.
Salt attacked Sugar, punching her wildly, screaming an Indian rebel yell.
"Ow! Stop pullling on my hair!" Salt hollered.
"You better put a stop to this RIGHT NOW!!!" Sugar screeched.
The taxi driver was so annoyed and distracted by their fighting that he abruptly stopped so sharply at a sudden red light.
WHAM. Salt and Sugar totally slammed together, opening up cuts in their bodies and salt and sugar poured all over the cab backseat, and pooled into a disgusting sweet-but-salty mixture. Immediately, the cab drove straight to the nearest emergency hospital possible--and the nearest auto cleaners. Salt and Sugar were both surgically operated, and received therapy and counseling.
Entry 39
Free Write
Nobody had ever called her. Nobody had rang her cob-webbed doorbell in a dozen years. Nobody greeted her, no one wished her Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, and everybody ignored her existence. People surrounded her were lively. Oh yes. She had a very extroverted, friendly neighbor Anna, who socialized all the time. Her name was Annabelle Louise, and she had two sons, one was dead, the other she had no clue of where he was. So, you can see why Annabelle was so shocked to hear her rusty doorbell ring, and when she opened the door, saw a dandy young man dressed in a creased, snappy black and white suit, with a well-groomed mustache.
"Hello, ma'am. My name is Past Ordoug," he introduced himself, smiling
Annabelle squinted, her white hair flying in the breeze. "I'm sorry, did you just say you are Pastor Doug?"
"Yes. Now, I'm here to guide you on your way to the PPF-past, present, future Expedia Site. Your payment of $2,000 has been verified, and all health forms are submitted in.
Before Annabelle could say anything, she was whisked so fast into a sedan to a large cubicle center, where immediately she was strapped in some sort of a vehicle with a helmet, heavy protection clothes and gloves, and space boots on her. Two other middle-aged couples and a pilot was in the same machine too.
"ALRIGHT. BLASTING OFF IN FIVE, FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE." FWOOSH!!!
"Ok, everyone, please be seated, strapped in to your seats. Before you applied to the PPF Expedia, you have seen a tutorial on how to stay and survive in the Time Machine. It is absolutely CRUCIAL that you know."
Hours later, Annabelle had to go relieve herself. There was a lever by a door, and she thought that lever was going to open the door. She tugged with all her might on it.
BRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEKK. There was an earsplitting screech and the machine stopped whirring, moving, functioning. The lights went dead. Annabelle stood perfectly still, her hand still on the lever.
"ALL RIGHT. WHO DID IT!!! WHO PULLED THE LOCK LEVER? NOW WE'RE STANDSTILL LOCKED IN THE MIDST OF TIME FOR A DECADE!!!" the pilot shouted.
"I-I-I don't know what happened!" Annabelle protested.
"Didn't you see the tutorial, you should never pull that lever!"
"But, I really have no idea WHY I'm here!"
"Aren't you Ms. Anna Bell?
"Yes, yes, I'm Annabelle Louise."
The pilot frowned. "You have 2 last names? Bell and Louise?"
"No! I'm Annabelle Smith. Anna Bell is my neighbor!"
The pilot groaned and burst into tears.
Entry 38
Recall an uplifting experience and write about it.
An uplifting experience that I had was when I was in a swim race, trying out for the Soka University local swim team. No, it's not a college swim team, and no, I am not that good. My frame was not entirely built for sports, you see, but if I had to choose a sport fit for my physique, it would be yoga or ballet. I got into the cold water, and the blond coach instructed me. Go swim a 50 freestyle. I understood, I was to swim 2 laps of freestyle. That wasn't too bad. I started off with a streamline, then gradually swam my way across the lanes, twice. When I reached the other end, I was slightly out of breath, but the coach commanded me again: Backstroke 50. I kicked back off the wall with all the force in my legs and stared power-stroking, scooping up water like boat paddles, rowing myself to the other end. I realized that I was going a little slow. So, when the coach commanded a 75 of breastroke, I swam madly. My head dunked in and out each second--that was how fast I was going. I knew she was timing me with a watch, which made me swim faster. Breathe in and out in and out. My breaths became shallow, and I spent more time underwater than inside. C'mon!! I urged myself. Just the last few feet, go faster!! When I had to do a 50 butterfly, it was so chaotic. My brain and my body weren't cooperating together. I flew upwards, then crashed down, brought my arms with all the strength I could muster, and crashed down into the water again, like a dolphin. Don't get me wrong, my form was good, but I just felt such a stimulating anxiety of swimming. After the butterfly, the tryouts were over, and I came out of the water. My legs were shaking and my feet could barley hold my body up.
Journal Entry 37
Write about a time you hid from someone, or a time you disguised who you really were.
Pulling pranks, has been one of my favorite things to do with my friends. There are so many prank calls, prank IM chats that I had devised. One time I was prank-calling my brother. He was such a wuss, he told on every little thing I did even if I lightly pushed him. Now that this was a prank call, I was thrilled to find out what he would react. I was with my friend Hannah, and we were both in the supply closet in my room. I dialed the usual number *23# to hide the caller ID. After three rings, my brother picked up. I could hear his voice through the walls, and through the phone speaker as well.
"Customer, please tell us your address so we can deliver the noodles to your house," Hannah croaked in a low voice. I started cracking up like crazy. "What?" my brother asked exasperatedly. I croaked into the receiver, "And the payment is is 20,000 won. Thank you for ordering at Ching Chang Chinese Restaurant.
Needless to say, my brother quickly figured out that it was me. But, boy, disguising myself is so exhilarating. It's like you can reinvent yourself again, and forget the flaws that you have.
Journal Entry 36
Write about a cause that you feel strongly about. At what length would you go to fight for this cause?
One cause I really care about is child abuse. I 've heard so many stories-especially the case in Uganda and the Lord Resistance Army. It's so terrible. Pain and sorrow and emotional stress for kids even younger than me is hard to believe. For me, an average middle schooler when I receive a penny or a coin, I don't salvage it-but I would even throw it in a fountain for wishes. When I get a small loaf of bread for lunch-I wouldn't be filled with gratitude-I would complain about how little it was. Normal people who say they care, who say they will put more action into this issue in so many ways I think they cannot understand. I don't really understand either, I just pity them a lot, and I want to take the children in and give them food and warm blankets. I wish I could experience only one day in the life of a Uganda child. So cliche-ridden this statement is, but it's true. When I watch videos, and when I research for world issues like this, children are being torn apart, beaten madly, their body parts cut off, their tiny heads push-dunked into tanks of water as torture, even if they are innocent. I can't get why people do this. Do they enjoy doing this? I would be active in this cause. I would make advocating posters, hold fundraisers, charity events, and donate money.
Journal Entry 35
Write from the point of view of a freshly scrubbed floor
Ahhhh, I exhale deeply again as the maid runs a cool, moisturizing, exfoliating Swiftswipe mop over my face. It takes all the bacteria and grime away from my face, leaving me with a cool, washed feeling. The rest of my body feels the same. I feel like as if I had a nice long hot bath with a invigorating body and facial scrub. I fee clean, fresh, and happy. It won't be long until Jackie, the ultimate dirty filthy boy sets his fishy-smelling, muck-covered feet on me again when he returns from school, but I just like to enjoy the moment wherever the maid wipes me gently with a Swiftswipe mop. I don't like brooms, they never really got the dust out of all my nooks and crannies and plus, those bristles HURT. Ahhh, that feels so refreshing. Hmm.. hold on, I'll come back later, right now I'm enjoying and relishing this precious rare moment...
Journal Entry 34
You can tell a lot abut a person by what he or she says. Here are some things Grandma Dorothy always says.
Grandma Dorothy is a stylish, feminine, old-fashioned grandma who's also strict and follow a set of ettiquette rules. I could imagine her wearing big poofy skirts, diamonds, sleeveless dresses, over-sized studded sunglasses, lacy petticoats, and chandelier earrings. She probably spends a lot of her time, having tea with someone important (in her opinion, anyhow), or picking dresses for the next charity ball she's going to go to, or shopping, and reading. I think she would be the person to own a cat or a bird. Not a dog though. She would have a nice, orange, quiet cat who would sit by her in the fireplace while she knits cashmere sweaters for her cat and for her friends. For some reason, I know I will be kind of like Grandma Dorothy when I grow up and have grandchildren.
Doc from the Movie
very serious knocking the diamonds with the hammer
one who starts the heigh ho!! song everytime they come home from work
red tunic with brown pants, maroon green hat and shoes
short round "Santa" beard
the first in the leader
has their own language like "chimney crickets!"
stuttering so much!!
decides all the decisions
the rest of the dwarfs follow what Doc says
Doc-the quieter, peacekeeper, intervention,
Fighting to Grumpy whether Snow White stays, Grumpy taunts him that he is too tempted by gooseberry pie and other delicious pastries.
takes responsibility of other dwarfs, cleaning them as well
leader of everything, including pranks! Disapproves of time wasting, foolishness, and Dopey.
cuddles with Dopey as they grieve for Snow White (with his hat off!)
dances with joy when he sees that Snow White has risen
Snow White Assignment
Rewrite the fairy tale, Snow White, form the point of view of one of the seven dwarves.
My Dwarf
Doc
Doc's Personalities
-the obvious leader
-the wise "owl-ish" one wearing glasses
-always feels the need for being responsible
-directing the other dwarfs what to do
-brave with courage
-always calm and collected, acting like a true leader, appearing very calm, keeping his cool
-a very fond liker of Snow White
-not too fond of Grumpy
-he may appear like a leader who knows what to do, but maybe inside he has emotional insecurities
-he is very often flustered
-sometimes stutters, can't get his words right
-very conscious, safety cautious, and protective not only of his dwarfs but of Snow White as well
Journal Entry 33
Pick a character from a daytime soap opera. Put him or her in a commuter train. Write about what he or she is feeling or thinking at that moment.
I flinched as I was suddenly sprawled on the cold, linoleum floor and I glanced all around me. My silk robes were soiled with dirt and I glanced around. It was dark outside but I was somehow trapped inside a huge box of metal with square holes cut out on the sides and I could see this was night time. That was when I realized that this box was moving, as I felt the fast surging motion and speed this box was going at. I managed to stand up, but fell back down when I saw people, people covering every inch of the benches at the side of the box. Oh my goodness, I thought silently. But these people were not wearing the silk robes or any robes for any matter. These people the majority of them were wearing blue pants and their shoes with their feet visible. Their toes were wedged between this piece of rubber and it looked awfully uncomfortable. Other people were busily moving their fingers on this rectangular slab of metal and others had some white tiny strangely shaped objects plugged into their ears. I stood up and went to a person who was moving her fingers along the slab of metal.
"Excuse me? Excuse me? Where are we exactly? And I apologize but what are you wearing? Isn't wearing this sort of profanity punishable by the King? Excuse me??"
But the stranger just barely gave me a look before going someplace else.
I must get out of here, I thought. I need to go home. Be with my family. I made my way to one of the square holes and standing about 7 feet away from one of the square holes, I decided to run then jump out while this "box" was still moving. 1, 2, 3..run, run CRASH. My head crashed against something, God knows, and I fell backward. I stood up again, sore, and lifted my leg over so I could climb out of that hole.
Journal Entry 32
Reflect on the group work portion of your commercial project. How did you measure up? Do you believe that you contributed to the group as much as others? What was your role? Did you learn anything?
I think this was a good experience for me. Since, this is a new project, with older people, I felt that I had to be more responsible, but for a time I could just relax. Most group projects I presided over everything because, well, just my luck, that I was partnered up with people who don't work productively. But this time, I was able to do my fair share of contribution.
Journal Entry 31
Write in the voice of a rope about to snap. At least one paragraph 5-8 sentences.
"AH! AH! AHHHHHHHOWWWW!!!!" I screamed internally. I was in terrible agony, I was suffocating and bleeding. I was tied as a primitive safety railing around a construction site of a playground and this rather obese, large kid was sitting on me. His fleshy, pudgy bottom dug deep scratches into my weak body and I started to stretch at first, but now parts of my body were desperately clinging to each other, willing not to snap. I glared up from the shadow of his great, fat build up to his chubby face smeared with chocolate ice cream. If he didn't get up any second, I might just die. "OW OW OW!!" I shrieked when he shifted his seat around me. He had been sitting here for about 10 minutes and for the first 3 minutes, just because of shifting, I got horrible red pockmarks on me smooth, tight body. Next, my body started to tear apart, stretching as if I was silly putty. I could not take it anymore, he was totally crushing my lungs and my internal organs, and I was gushing blood every second. This was the longest I could go, I couldn't bear to stretch any further. My body groaned as it was on the verge of snapping evenly in two. Already some of the stray vessels of my body were poking out from my corpse-to-be. I squeezed my eyes shut as tears came out. I was also burning, this kid, my murderer had a VERY warm body temperature and the heat and pressure was killing me. I uttered a silent prayer, also cursing weighty kids that sit on ropes and railings. The last thing I saw before I completely gave away and snapped in two was the kid's surprised face as he was falling down on the sand as I gave up support for his enormous rear.
Journal Entry 30
Free Write
Have you ever had one day where you just seemed to get constant hiccups for the rest of the day? Today was such a day for me. HIccups really annoy me. At mealtimes, when I get the hiccups, I can't eat. Whenever I hiccup, I feel as if the chewed up food is going to soar up my throat. My chest swells up and my throat feels strange. HIccup. Hiccup. The sound is annoyingly catch, isnt it? I have tried numerous methods, pounding very hard on my back, holding my breath, even asking pepple to scare me, which never worked. Eventually, I discovered a solution. I discovered drinking steaming hot water gave my throat a burning hot feeling and scorched the inner delicate skin, but it did muffle my hiccups. I found that a new promising cure to this nuisance, and I hope other people can use it as well, to prevent such irksome respiratory spasms.
Journal Entry 29
Write about a moment when you and another person (sibling, friend, parent, etc.) bonded
I have really bonded with a girl that I met in kindergarten. Even though we're apart, we are still very close friends. We used to be very best friends--so much that for her birthday party, I was the only guest along with her family and that made me feel like I was part of her family. We really are like soul sisters, I feel like we know each other so well that we know exactly what we're thinking. For example, we can both tell if something is funny or not, because I know her exact sense of humor, whereas with my brother (whom I've been laboriously been stuck with 10 years) I can hardly tell his strange sense of humor. As of now, we are living apart. I really miss the times where we would go swimming in pools, play House, dig through the dirt, play tag at cool playgrounds, and do homework together. It was such a sad departure when she moved to Hong Kong, but we still keep in touch. On her birthday, we promised each other that we would stay like this forever, that we would only invite each other and family to our birthdays because we were such good friends! But as times change, that never happened again after her 8th birthday party. I moved to the U.S. and she moved to Hong Kong. Now I live in Korea, but she still comes over to Korea to visit and we have the the most fun time as if it was summer already!
Journal Entry #28
Free Write
Well, I don't know what to write here, because right now I have mental block and this happens to be an especially extreme case. It's like this creature dwells inside my head and gobbles up all my creativity, inspirations, and ideal thoughts. I can write this journal telling you how I have nothing to write about, I guess? It IS my personal journal after all. I wonder if in the future there is going to be a medicine or a cure you can perform to reduce mental block. When mental block strikes me, and I try to write, I feel as if my brain has all the juices have been literally squeezed out of my brain so that all I have in my skull is a dry, almost moist lump of red stuff. All the fluid thinking has gone out, and I'm dehydrated for creative, inspirational, intelligent thoughts. I don't know when I'm going to return to myself again, what if I never do? I'm going to make this journal entry a little shorter than my usual free-writes, simply because I HAVE MENTAL BLOCK. :(
Journal entry #27
Write a four-line song or poem about mayonnaise.
Sweet and sticky
and sometimes icky
creamy with a whitish glaze
you got it--it's mayonnaise!
Journal Entry #26
A person's choice of a dog is said to express something about his or her personality. Choose five individuals whose names are well-known internationally. What kind of dog would you choose for each? Why? Explain.
Marie Antoinette: I would pick a white-fleece poodle because she is a very lavish, luxurious woman but she was not very courageous nor proactive, just kicked back and relaxed the extravagance. So, I would pick a poodle, a diva-like, spoiled, yappy, whiny dog
Adolf Hitler: I would have a huge, mean, teeth-baring Doberman. The Doberman with a collar of spikes and pointy ears and a mean look about their face. Just like Hitler, they would be merciless and cruel to anyone who stood in their way. they would glare with scary red eyes.
CoCo Chanel: I would think she has a Great Dane, simply because Great Danes are very simple, thin, and elegant, just like Chanel and her designs of clothing.
Prince William: I think he would either have a border collie or an English cocker spaniel because he is very aristocratic royal, honorable, and knightly. A Border Collie is very smart, wise, and brave and an English cocker spaniel looks very regal and proud.
Michael Phelps: For Michael Phelps, I think a Siberian Husky or a golden retriever would suit him. He is very muscular, strong, and robust so something like a strong, sturdy Husky or a golden retriever would match his physical frame.
Journal Entry #25
Reflect on the process of writing a short story What did you enjoy abou it? What was difficult? How would you approach it differently if you did it again?
If you asked me on short story writing, I really liked the process. When I was little, I used to write short stories just for fun, I spoke short stories. I would just get any itsy bitsy inspiration from absolutely ANYWHERE and that would be enough for me to fuel out a whole short story. If you just have a good, sturdy idea coming from an original thought of inspiration, it can really make a good short story. For this story, I wrote just nouns, verbs, adj. on pieces of paper and mixed a lot of them in a bowl. I would close my eyes and dig through the pieces of paper until I picked a noun, verb, adjective that would form a sentence, and build my short story from there. For example, if the words I picked were: cat, lab, house, purple , I could write about a purple cat who tries to conquer and attack against a Labrador retriever in the next door neighbor's house. Now, the difficult part is that you have to mold and form it. You have to shape the climax so that it's clear to the reader, and add just the right amount of details to the falling action, resolution, etc. You have to make sure the plotline flows and the purpose of the story is known and clear. If I had to do this assignment over I would first clearly construct and lay out the plot development rather than write at it. Some great stories sometimes spawn from an impulse but apparently not for me.
Journal Entry #24
Free Write
Braces. Honestly, I know they are good for me. But I CANNOT stand braces. Sometimes, when I go to the orthodontist, and they tighten my braces, I have no trouble with it. I can just cope with it. But this time, oh boy. They tightened my braces up to the point where I could not bear to move my mouth to chew anything or eat anything except water and fluids. Those heavy looking metal brackets stick to my teeth like leeches or suction cups and feed me pain. I feel like a world-class sumo wrestler is grabbing tight onto my little small teeth and tearing them apart. I could actually feel the tooth moving, planted deep inside my gums. It frustrates me, when I am very hungry, and all I want is just something to eat, I cannot eat without suffering burden and agony. I just want to take these out! It feels so uncomfortable and I wonder what my teeth will feel without these horrible metals. But for right now, my teeth are caged inside these metal train tracks. Go figure...
Journal Entry #23
People often say, "If we can send a man to the moon, surely we can figure out to..." Complete the sentence in five different ways.
If we can send a man to the moon, surely we can figure out to cook a Thanksgiving dinner
If there are astronauts up in space, we can send pets to space
If we can send a man to the moon, we can settle a pointless argument
If mankind can go to the moon and come back alive, you can go to a dentist appointment and come back alive
If we can send a man to the moon we can surely invent flying shoes
Journal Entry #22
Blurp! Slosh! Snort! Write a paragraph incorporating at least ten onomatopoetic words. Onomatopoetic words are words that sound like what they mean.
It was a busy day at the Maylor's farm. Taylor Maylor went out to feed the pigs because they were the most demanding. Snort, snort, squish, smush, what a noise they made. Taylor poured the slops out of the red bucket pail, then turned her attention to the cow pen. Moo, mooooo, the cows sounded as if they were demanding her to serve them straws. Taylor hurriedly gave them a nice lofty bale of straw and ran over to the chicken coop. Cawk! Squawk! Taylor could hear noisy chicken sounds a great distance before she even reached the coop. She opened the door with a heavy thud, and stepped inside. Chickens flew everywhere, batting their large, heavy wings in the air with a swoosh sound as they attempted to lift up their plump bodies. Taylor quickly collected the eggs, careful not to drop one and crack it there on the spot. She hurried out of the coop. Cockle-doodle-dooo!!! the rooster crowed obnoxiously. She glared at the old mean rooster. It wasn't even the right time to crow yet.
Journal Entry #21
I wake out of sleep with one bleary eye. My vision is blurred and I can only make out in the hazy dawn light, the figure of my desk and my swivel chair. My first instinct every time I awake of this short temporary death is that I glance at the clock at my bedside table. There it is, my clock, which used to appear very delicious in chocolate brown, looked nauseating to me, as I checked the time; exactly 7 AM. I groan as I was supposed to wake up an hour earlier. Now, I would hardly have time to prepare. I try to get up, however I feel as if there are magnets attached underneath my bed. It was excruciating to get up. My back ached, and the vertebrates felt like they have been attached with sticky paint glue. My bloated legs weigh me down and I strain to lift one heavy lead pillar up to get up. There must've been a gas lamp inside my head because my head felt so hot and burning. What was wrong? I couldn't breathe, the channels of my nose were all crusty with dried-up snot and my fumbling tongue was a languid leaf of a plant that was not watered for 30 days. My throat felt red and swollen. My head ached and pounded and blood pounded in my ears. I kicked off my blankets and then a chilled shiver coursed all throughout my body making my limbs tingle. Then the searing hot sensation would return again. I just quickly got up, wanting to go to the bathroom and splash some cold water over my face. But when I did, I fell because the floor was tilting slanted. Waves of dizziness clouded my head and nausea churned in the pit of my horribly empty stomach. Any moment I was so scared that I might vomit or pass out. The back of my left arm was spotted with grotesque, disgusting red dots. Does this mean chicken pox? I wondered. It looked like a diseased arm and I looked away repulse. There were also tiny slimy little bumps on the roof of my mouth and I was so disgusted. Realizing I couldn't remain sprawled on the floor any longer I jumped up quickly inside my bed, drawing the covers way over my feverishly pounding head, praying that I would go to sleep and not endure this awful agony.
Journal Entry #20
Free write for 3 minutes on this cliche: "ice running through her veins"
What I think this cliche means is that when soemone has "ice running through her veins" that person is a very cold-hearted, chilled, lonely, gloomy person not joyful, friendly, or amicable at all. I met several people throughout my life that had ice running through their veins. Let me tell you of one particular person. This person didn't just have ice pumped through her ice vessels.
Journal Entry #19
List 10 things you usually do on a rainy day. Pick one from your list and free write for 5 minutes.
1. give myself a pedicure
2. read a book
3. listen to music
4. play the piano or the cello
5. surf the Internet, chat with friends, go on Facebook
6. try to cook something of my own
7. do arts and crafts: like making an umbrella out of a windbreaker, making some cool accessories
8. sleep
9. make a Youtube video
10. do homework
One things I usually do on a rainy day is paint my toenails. I don't know why I do it, I think it's kind of like a tradition that I give myself a pampering mani-pedi. Possibly, when I have no homework or nothing to do, I just get out bottles of nail polish, Acetone, and cotton swabs and start painting. The color polish I have on my toes right now is a silver-ish polish with tints of gold reflecting in it. It's a pretty unique color, and quite unusual for me to wear; usually I am in shades of red, pink, and sometimes blue. But just like when you are chewing gum, I get bored of the color quite easily. Maybe next time, I can give myself a French pedicure with neat white tips and neutral polish. I once tried that myself and painted little white flowers on my toes when I was young. When it comes to painting my toes, I get very experimental.
Entry #18
Create a character-profile for your character in your short story.
Describe in detail a person who leaves no stone unturned.
"Where is my iPhone? Where is it? Where is it????"
Having heard this phrase too many times in one day, I chose to ignore rather than comment and bring forth more lamentations.
My friend Christy was searching everywhere. She picked up a nearby purse and flipped it over and dumped everything out. Hand mirrors, cosmetic bags, lipgloss tubes, packs of gum, two pairs of sunglasses, crumpled paper, her iPod, eyeshadow pallets, a bunch of wrapped peppermints...
Christy dropped to her knees and started feeling around the floor as if she were a blind person getting up. She ran to the guest room and searched inside out underneath the guest room bed, She looked behind the piano, searched every corner of my room, in the hamper, in the showers, even in my glasses's case. I could tell she was going mad and after 3 hours, she came back into the living room where her purse contents lay scattered all over the floor. She was fuming, her ponytail was
Journal Entry #16
Write a rhyme paragraph. Each sentence must being and end with the words that rhyme with each other
Candy is so tasty, it's so sweet and very dandy
Mint, peppermint, gumdrops with a honeyed, sweetened tint
Twix bars, chocolate, lollipop licks
Snickers appease our bickers
Reese's cups with peanut-buttery fleeces
S'mores and nuts galore
White chocolate is a delicious delight
Electricity is a recent discovery. Think of 12 things to do when there is no power.
When there is no power, I wouldn't have much to do but these 12 things.
1. read a nice book
2. write a letter instead of composing an email
3. help around the house
4. think of how to get the power back on
5. make dishes from the recipes in your cook book
6. play the piano
7. chat (like talking, not IM'ing) with your friends, neighbors, siblings, a pet
8. eat a delicious meal made of fresh, authentic ingredients
9. write a song or a poem or a short story
10. walk a dog or play with a pet if you have one (fish don't count) ;P
11. dance to a song on the radio
12. plant flowers, take care of the garden until evening
Journal Entry #13
What kind of cartoon show might appeal to the overage 65 audience. Imagine the show. Then, in 100 words or less, describe the show and its main character.
The cartoon show that appeal to people over 65 might be a show titled: I Swear on My Dentures. This show is about a family of old seniors 2 woman seniors: Amy and Sally and 2 men seniors: Billy and Jack. They live in a home sponsored for old people and they have great adventures. Because their personalities differ from each other, the show develops an interesting twist. Amy is a rather wistful grandma of 3 granddaughters, and is always trying to relive her old days of her glam pop singer when people recognized her as famous, attended her concerts, and she got to wear glitzy costumes. She is constantly trying to bring some of her glamorous lifestyle into her old, plain, current lifestyle. Sally is a spoiler with children, and since she is no longer one, she values them as the most precious things in the world. However she has no grandkids by far and is constantly encouraging her kids to give birth so she could have some grandkids that she could "bake brownies for, make necklaces to, and adore, adore, adore". Jack is a grumpy old grandpa, who lost all his interest in anything else besides ESPN golf and his oh-so-precious garden. He and Sally are spouses, and often they argue over a lot of things, which are hilarious at some points to Sally and Billy. Billy is a fantastic cook, better than the ladies. He doesn't get the style around the modern century, why people wear jeans, why they wear Converse the ugliest the shoe in the world, and how miniscule computers and cellphones are and doesn't get the new century.
Journal Entry #12
Ice cream is one of life's necessities. My favorite ice cream flavor is rocky road and yogurt. The reason why I like rocky road is that it contains dark chocolate, bits of nuts, and marshmallows. The way the chocolate chunks are embedded into the chocolate ice cream with marshmallows makes it so appealing. I also like yogurt. It is not too sweet, and calorie-free. If you pick the right toppings, you can create something more delightful than the word "yogurt" sounds. Now can you see why I'm raving about these flavors?
Journal Entry #11
Use the following words in a story: little boy, torn page, market, cart
A little boy was walking on the Arabian bazaar, known as a market for selling exotic goods, foods, spices, and other merchandise. The boy stared in awe at the wonder around him the carts full of juicy, cool melons, the rich gold dust around the shops that sold perfumes and spices, the busyness of the bazaar, and the hawkers walking up and down yelling stuff like "Sale! Sale! Buy teapots for sale!" He glanced back at the list that his mother gave him, exhorting him to carry out the list of things she had enlisted for him to buy. He was mesmerized by this. He had never been out to the bazaar, not alone anyways.
"Watch out, little lad!!" a husky voice screamed so close by, the boy jumped. When he whirled his head around to see, an out-of-control cart was hurdling towards him, so close he didn't have time to back out. The cart smashed into his face, shiny gold brass teapots and bags of seeds and figs flew everywhere smacking the little boy's cheeks and his head. The little boy fell with startled surprise. He happened to fall down on a full-bellied cotton stack full of ripe figs. Dark red juice squirted everywhere, staining his pants. He was badly bruised and scarred. Just when he couldn't take any injury, a humongous, reflective gold teapot fell from the sky and clanged with his forehead. He fell unconscious.
Hours later, the mother sat at home, frantic, and nibbling her nails why her precious little boy hadn't returned. Finally she couldn't take it any longer. She set out to go find the little boy. She frantically asked the others if they had seen a little stout boy with hazel eyes and sand-blown brown hair. They all shook their heads. When she was about to give up, when she was on the verge of breaking out in tears, she found her little boy with a red, blood-oozing mark on his forehead, and red juice-stained clothes and skin. He was lying down, his mouth partly open. It seemed that there was a huge calamity. Without any thought, she scurried forward, put the boy on her shoulder, despite the heavy weight and pain, she ran all the way without stopping. She nursed him, squeezing wet washcloths and washed his clothes. In the middle of the night, he came conscious. The mother was grateful and relieved he had revived so quickly. The two hugged and the boy promised to be more cautious.
Journal #10
It was a blazing hot summer day. Claire sat down at the pool chairs, licking a raspberry Popsicle, unsure of what to do. She had absolutely no friends to hang out with, no source of amusement around the house. She walked over to the pool and dipped her feet into it. She noticed there was a shiny sheen radiating and rubbed the sand away to reveal a lustrous, hard, iridescent stone. She picked it up, inspecting it. The stone slipped right through her clumsy, fumbling fingers into the pool. Claire backed away when she saw that the ripples had never ceased. The pool began to froth and Claire's breath choked in her throat. A small whirlpool started to form. Claire cocked her head in curiosity and edged forward. And just like that, as if an invisible force had grabbed her ankle and dragged her forward. Her hands shot out side of her instinctively and scraped on the concrete, but it was futile. She reluctantly went into the pool, waiting for the cold shock surprise, but the water was warm and soft. She kept going downwards and the pool was deeper than she thought it was. Then a deep rumbling voice so deep it shook and vibrated her eardrums rang out.
"Good morning. Why have you summoned me, brought me back from my 500-year period of sleep?"
"I, uh...I, "that was all Claire could manage to stammer out.
Journal Entry #9
Describe what you feel right now using your sense of smell. If you feel frustrated, write about what your frustrations smells like. Use vivid words. Don't skimp on adjectives.
I feel glad, almost happy today. I also feel a little anxious and nervous. I smell a sweet, fragrant smell also concentrated with something processed, something stale-smelling as if I were sniffing pennies. Right now, my smell is really strange and have mixed scents. I smell light, aromatic smell, perfumed, very sweet and pleasant to my nostrils. However, there's a metallic smell that adds an edge to it, and disrupts the peace and serenity of the fragrance. It is the smell of worry and anxiety. The smell that conjures up thoughts of fear, apprehension.
Journal Entry #8
Write a paragraph about a cat attacking something but don't use the words, hiss, scratch, or pounce.
The fiery, black cat eyed the ragdoll warily. You could tell it that it was a cat of high authority and pride, the way its sleek, black fur shone, the radiant, lime green eyes that flickered, and its trim, slim body. He leaped forward and clawed the rag doll who was lying on the cat bed where, he, the cat should be. He clawed viciously, producing a low-throated growl and sharpened its razor-sharp claws. He started scraping the doll so that tears of fabric and stuffing resulted. The sewn on eyes fell out, its clothes became ripped so many times, and its bonnet was destroyed. The cat smiled in satisfaction and sauntered away, leaving the ruins of his owner's own doll.
Journal Entry #7
Fatima is a very spoiled teenage girl. Show that she is spoiled describing what happens when she doesn't get a car for her birthday.
"Don't peek, sweetie!" Fatima's mother said smiling expectanty with her hands over her oh-so-precious daughter.
"We can't wait to show you what we got for you," Fatima's father singsonged giddily.
Fatima's mind was racing. Was it that smoking, cherry-red Ferrari that she wanted so badly? She imagined in there, in her renovated garage with a big red bow on top of it to match of her glassy, shiny, trendy car.
"Open!" Fatima's mother's hands suddenly disappeared from her face, and she eagerly looked around with wide eyes of that Ferrari. Nothing was there, except a jewelry box of a necklace with a diamond and tiny little clear-cute emeralds and crystals and the finest silver string. Then she saw a mannequin with a fantastic black sleeveles dress on it, the one she was angry at her mother for not buying her. Next to that there was a brand-new, just-came-out-yesterday Louis Vuitton tote that looked so pristine. But there was no Ferrari. Her face turned blotchy red. Tears came to her eyes. There was no Ferrari. There was no Ferrari.
"Mommm! I said I wanted a car not all this," she waved her hand carelessly at the presents her parents got for her as if they were a pile of rotting trash.
"I know, sweetheart, but the car was out of sale, I mean, they were running out. And it would take at least two weeks to produce another cherry-red one you wanted. I'm very sorry but we bought multiple gifts to make it up for you!" Fatima's mother coaxed her.
Fatima shook her head so hard that her birthday tiara fell out.
"This is the WORST birthday party EVER. How could you? Mom? Dad? Do you not, like love me anymore?" Fatima screamed, threw her tiara and plopped down on the floor.
"Fatima, please..."
"NO, don't make up silly little excuses for what you did. YOU should be ashamed of yourselves, considering this is my sweet sixteen, and you didn't give me what I WANT!" Fatima shrieked. She started pounding the floor. "Why, why why?! All my friends got a car for their birthday. All of them. So, why can't I get a Ferrari??"
"Honey, your friends all got hand-me-down trucks and beat-up Toyotas. You're special. You got a special Tiffany's necklace, a Louis Vuitton bag, a dress by Vera Wang all these luxuries. We love you, and you know that."
"Fatima, I promise, I will make every effort to buy you that Ferrari right when it comes out..."
But Fatima wouldn't take it any longer. She stormed out of the garage and slammed the door behind her. She yelled at her butler and went up to her designer master-suite bedroom and cried, hating her parents.
"Whatever!" she screeched to her high-tech intercom in her room, crying tears of anger. "I REALLY don't understand you two!! Have I been not been the best daughter?? Why do you hate me?? You better give me that car right when it comes out, Daddy. I expect it right here in the garage, right when I wake up on whatever day it comes out!" Slam.
Journal Entry #6
Describe your bedroom the way you want it to be.
Of course, everyone wants a perfect bedroom to fit their personality and their self. I love my bedroom now, but if I what it takes to create a perfect bedroom, I wouldn't be able to do it. But I would be able to describe it in this journal.
A bedroom that I would love with be with hardwood floors, with really dark polished floorboards. I also would want beige, light apricot, or light lavender color for my walls. Then, I would love a sky-painted ceiling. One of those European style paintings where there are clouds and angels painted on the sky like a ceiling. I would want a white wooden desk, one of those large desks with drawers attached to it. I would want that desk in the left hand corner of the room. My bed would be a high sleigh bed with soft duvets and squishy pillows. I would also want a large bureau to keep some of my clothes then an extra closet to hold the remnants. I also cannot live without a nightstand table, it keeps my alarm clock, calendar, Kleenexes, and water. I would also like a lounge chair and a small round coffee table near the windows as a reading nook or something. I'd also like to hang exotic but renowned paintings on my walls.
Journal Entry #5
Silly is a middle-aged man who combs his remaining limp strands of hair into an elaborate swirl over his bald spot, gluing them in place with hair spray and hoping no one will notice.
Silly is a golden retriever who slinks sheepishly off the sofa whenever his owner comes home, hoping despite the piles of hair all over the cushion that she won't notice he's been sleeping.
Silly is a robust, bulky, husky man who eats a full-sized T-bone steak at least thrice a day, wears spiked leather jackets with matching spiked leather cuffs, and shirts with scary logos.
Silly is a mischievous little girl with a dexterous mind and hands, who always tries to hide in their parent's closet at night, trying to scare them when they are sleeping.
Silly is a grumpy, hot-tempered cat who only likes to sleep and take a bath, and hisses and paws indignantly whenever the neighbor's perky Collie, Tilly, approaches her.
Journal #4 Close your eyes briefly. Think of one object that's in the room and focus on it without opening your eyes, recall as much detail as you can about it. After three minutes or so, open your eyes and write about that abject without looking at it.
Turquoise leather glasses case made out of leather. It was opened, all pristine and smooth with plush turquoise velour inside it. There were silver engravings the word Zoff which was the company of these spectacle-making cases. There had been a clasp to close it, it had a silver button on it. The case was in a pretty shape, a semi circle-shaped glasses case that opened out from the top. Inside, there is a pair of sleek, chocolate-brown glasses wrapped in a dove-gray silk kerchief. The glasses are wrapped up with the glasses sitting with the lenses up.
Journal #3
It was an unusually frigid afternoon. I got ready to hit the tennis courts, to practice tennis--a tennis coach was probably waiting in his windbreaker and gloves wondering where I was. Well, I was walking steadily towards the tennis court, kicking ice as I went. The ice was so slick and slippery. I felt I was walking on an ice-skating rink or a frozen lake. It was a pretty funny feeling, just sliding easily on the ice, a carefree feeling rippled through my body. Wind slapped relentlessly against my face but I didn't mind. I could barely open my eyes because of the knife-wind but I managed to find my way. About 80 feet before I reached the tennis court I was taking wide strides. The ice on the ground was pretty thin, and my foot buckled underneath me. It lost its grip on the glassy ice and I flew up as my foot slid beneath me. I landed hard on the ice. And because the ice was wafer-thin, it crashed, shards shattered everywhere. I felt as if I had jumped down on a glass vase. My bones ached horribly and it took me a while to get up. I weakly walked about 60 feet my coach called in the distance. "Class canceled! The ice is too slippery. Someone could get hurt." He winked and went back inside. I turned around staring back at the huge walkway covered in ice so slippery I wondered if it was lubricated, and wondered how figure skaters survived it when they fell countless times.
Journal Entry #2
Pick 20 things that annoy you
1. mosquitoes
2. waiting in line
3. my brother
4. when Powerschool isn't updated when you want it to be
5. when I lose my books, pens, pencils, etc.
6. when a mechanical pencil malfunctions
7. slow Internet
8. the swirling rainbow cursor on the Mac when something's not working
9. sticky hands, sticky anything for that matter
10. when a really tall person or someone with a ridiculously heightened hairstyle sits in front of me at the cinemas or at a concert hall
11. when you know you have homework but you just can't stop chatting
12. when you forget your homework
13. wet hair
14. when people whisper to each other in my presence
15. when your neighbor makes an awful lot of noise
16. when you lose your phone
17. hair on the floor, pillows, cushions
18. when you have to stay up late at night for homework
19. Abercrombie or Hollister double zippers that don't zip up easily
20. walking in the rain
Journal Entry #1: Write a Paragraph about a girl named Dot, but use no letters with (i, j)
Dot was a very shy, small, teenager who rather preferred to read rather than hang out and have company of her peers. She was not an extrovert, she read books, rarely spoke, and drew cartoons on colored paper. She had very puny eyes, face, arms, and feet, hence the name Dot. Dot went to a school--a brand-new school that she hardly knew about. Her mother hoped that she could make some playmates in her classes. Her mother was more than concerned about the lack of playmates Dot had. Dot felt so nervous she felt that she could puke and pass out. The car was suffocated. Her mother's words were not consolatory, merely a blur she could not comprehend.
Journal Entry 51
Reflect on your final project. Why did you choose
it and what do you think you learned from the
process of creating it?
I chose it because of 3 reasons. I thought a poem would be too "short" for a final project, also during FINAL WEEK (UGH!) I just didn't have that poetic inspiration under all that pressure. My ComicLife skills were comparable to those of my nine-year old brother, and I knew writing a short story would be a stressing lengthy process and I was pretty good at making up stories. So that's why I chose essay to improve my writing. I learned that in order to write an essay, the format structure is very defined, and it has to be a certain way. I wrote it like a short story would read. No, an essay has a purpose for each paragraph and a topic sentence, and a thesis. I think I knew that already, but I just didn't know it for real. This final project made me realize that format and organization of an essay.
Journal Entry 50
Write about someone you would love to see put in jail.
I would LOVE to put a character that I recently read in a book House of Scorpion, El Påtron into jail. El Påtron is a very old, powerful, wealthy man who is 143 years old. He made clones of himself, with spare parts to provide him enough life. Then, he basically sucks the feelings and the soul out of the clone so that the person is just a mechanical being. I think he should be put into jail. It's very immoral, and all he wants is greed. I hate him. He is so merciless to others, and only thinks of himself, everything he needs to have to make sure he's happy.
Journal Entry 49
Write about a task, job, or chore you dislike.
A task that I really dislike is taking notes for my history class from the textbook. Not that the actual history class is BORING or anything, it's just that I don't like doing homework for history class. It's usually tedious, and I don't prefer our class vacillating from textbooks and to informative PDF files so much, because it's hard to keep a track of where we are learning. That is what I really hate doing, especially near the end of the year.
Journal Entry 48
Do you agree that if you give respect, you get it? Explain.
Yes, I think for the vast majority of people, that whatever you get, you should give. Whatever you do will always come back--it's not just a one time thing. So if you are very friendly, well mannered, and nice to others, they will too, in turn, to be nice to you. Unless there are some exceptions where people are so bad-natured that they are mean to kindness. But most of the time, I do believe that if you give respect, you will get respect.
Journal Entry 47
Use the all of the following words in a story: plastic bottle, baseball, dirty, handkerchief, crumpled note, unhinged door.
"Where am I getting all these gifts from?!" I exclaimed, as I opened my tin blue locker and discovered a monogrammed, textured handkerchief of the finest silk, literally spun from silkworms.
"Who knows?" Margalo replied indifferently, slamming her locker, right beside me. "Maybe you have a secret admirer!" Couple rings, cookies, those cool neon flip flops, and a pristine necklace had been left for me, in my locker, in the same exact spot.
I shrugged, and took a long swig from my Vitamin Water. We went to the baseball diamond for lunch where it was littered with Nutrigram wrappers and Gatorade plastic bottles. We ate our lunches beside the field, chatting. Then it was time for science. Margalo scurried off to European history, while I headed for the chemistry classroom.
Time seemed to slow down its pace during Mrs. Kelpser's lecture. I snoozed and took notes. But the strange sight was Martin, behind her, he seemed to be very intensely taking notes, scribbling with his #2 pencil, but he had a lot of crumpled notes around him. Serena and Chelsea picked one up, and started giggling furiously when they read one of them.
As soon as the bell rang, I stood up abruptly and bolted out.
"Deena!" Margalo yelled after me. I waved and we went down to the gym together. We were out in the gym, doing jumprope as our warmup exercise, when I saw Martin look at me and pale, then scuttle across the gym into the P.E. storage room. Then I noticed something big, he had exactly the same pair of flip flops as me, only his were black. I looked down at my bright yellow ones. Could this be..? He jumped and leapt through the unhinged door.
"Wait!" I shouted after him. I had to shout again 2 more times before he actually stopped and turned around, his face flaming red.
"I didn't mean to give you all those couple rings, matching flip flops, and that handkerchief," he said to me shyly. "I accidentally confused your locker with Margalo's," he told me.
Journal Entry 46
Reflect on this digital story telling project
I thought it was a really simple project for me--it was a lot stress-free than other projects for sure!
The limit on the pictures really didn't matter to me, I already plotted out what I'm going to use, so I didn't have any problem with that. However, the problem for me was FINDING the pictures, it took a long time to go through my old pictures and get the perfect pictures that would match perfectly with my dialogue. Since mine also needed some look-back, Californian memory pictures, It wasn't always perfect, I tried my best to find pictures that would match my theme, and I had to work with what I had. I also had to find music that matched with my theme. I think this was a fun project for me because it was like talking to your friends about a certain memory that happened in your life, but through pictures, and pictures are worth a thousand words and descriptions. I think this was much better than writing a memoir, sort of like new modern digital memoir. I liked other people's as well, I liked Rachel's idea and project, especially the intro how the music matched the music, I liked how Sophia's was put-together, and I liked how Christine HJ's had sad and touching feel about her rabbit.
Journal 45
Free Write
Shona came around the shimmering pool that scintillated in the moonlight. The lights sparkled and winked, a promising sign.
But Shona wasn't buying it.
Her eyes blurred, tears misted up in her eyes, she saw her life all blur before her. Like a flashback of 13 years.
13 years. 13 years she has waited for this moment. Well, technically 1, ever since she turned 13. She couldn't bear it anymore. It was too heavy on her poor, bony shoulders. She was done and through being a slave. Tired of believing that a princess version of Cinderella does not exist. Shona kicked off her red and orange striped flip flops and took out a small pocketknife. She took out the glossy Justin Timberlake poster, and flipped it over to the black, Sharpie-writing on the back. Using the pocketknife, she pricked her forefinger, and a tiny teardrop-shaped drop of bright red blood emerged. it dripped down her finger, palm, and onto the poster where it seeped through the paper material. She sighed, and knew it will be the last time she sighed.
She stood up and adjusted her swim suit and fell face-first into the pool and let her hair poof out about her. She could see the bottom, and as she was sinking, she expected to touch it any moment. But in fact, she just kept on sinking, and the bottom seemed endless.
Journal Entry 44
List 12 things you can buy with your last 20,000 won
1. a supreme sized grand Ferro Rocher basket with chocolate sticks that is about the height of my brother
2. a cardigan or a button-down shirt on sale at Zara
3. a pair of shoes
4. a sauteed seafood pasta dish
5. a small pizza pie
6. a charger or headphones if I buy it from my brother
7. a yoga mat and Pilates ball
8. a small bed for my puppy
9. the Harry Potter novel set
10. a skateboard
11. 2 paperback books
12. 20,000 won
Journal Entry 43
"Yipes" said the zebra. "I've lost my stripes." Continue the paragraph, using as many words as you possibly can that rhyme with yipes.
"Yipes!" said the zebra. "I've lost my stripes!"
"What?" said the cow, heartily eating grass. "Can't listen while I glut."
"Oh, fipes! My stripes! Where did they go? Off they're wiped, my stripes! I used to be so ripe with stripes, and now, they have been wiped! Off my body!
"Oh, darn right, you look like a just-born foal without coal marks," the cow remarked.
"Yipes! What type of zebra there is without black, ripe stripes!
"Be careful," the cow warned. "Your case of stripes wiped may be hyped."
"Oh yipes! Oh fipes! My ripe stripes have been wiped! Zebras without stripes is not Desiree's [his fiance] type! And if this embarrassing scenario gets hyped, what will she think of me now?
The cow shook his head sadly while the zebra rambled on.
Journal Entry 42
There are only three words in the English Dictionary that start with DW:
Dwell, dwindle, and dwarf. Write a paragraph that incorporates all three of these DW words
Journal May 13th 2024
People pick on me. Yup, that's right they do. But don't get me wrong, they never dare to say something straight up in my face. And you probably will know WHY people pick on me. You see, I'm a dwarf. A victim of dwarfism. I'm unusually short, probably the size of a petite nine-year old while I'm in my middle ages. I kind of look like Danny Devito. I am a super organized, rather wealthy (if you will), important, smart CEO of a multi-national, global, company: Katoya Inc. What is Katoya? We are a HUGE technology company. We sell electronic books, in fact, we are the ONLY source of decent, upgraded electronic books, transparent touch-screen laptops, foldable platinum-screen TV's, sound wave CD players, Katids, Katid computers, organizers made of "kanster", an electronic blue slime with precise electro-chemicals and a motherboard. Oh, yes, we beat Apple, Samsung, Sony, all those clever-but-not-enough companies. We kicked all their sorry butts. My house that I dwell in is beyond conceivable. I have 19 bedrooms, 6 of which are my own private suite bedrooms with state-of-art facilities. I have 5 swimming pools, 3 saunas, 1 skating rink, 2 bowling alleys, 4 movie theaters, 24 bathrooms including some big grand ones with several bathtubs and shower booths, and countless gardens. I have a Parthenon-style front yard to the entrance, if you look from the entrance door, it looks like all the marble white pillars are dwindling as they go afar. It's a prodigious mansion, and I'm proud to declare I'm the only one living in it. I have a Katid InstaGPS wired into my kanster phone so if I go to that application, it shows a whole map of my house and who's (referring to robotic (Katoya personalized) maids and butlers) doing what in where. Beat the whole Maurderer's Map, doesn't it?
Wordle
Entry 41
List 10-15 things worth saving and then choose one to write about.
1. photos of my friends and families
2. ALL of my attempted diaries in the past :)
3. my stories that I wrote when I was bored, poems, fairy tales, short stories, stuff
4. my collection of candles
5. boxes of shells, fake starfishes that I got at Laguna Beach
6. my Macbook including its case and headphones
7. some of my favorite books
8. some of my all-time favorite, can-watch anytime anywhere movies
9. my puppy Toto
10. that cute navy blue and white trimmed sailor dress I wore when I was young
11. my first charm bracelet
12. my first cellphone
One thing I really want to save is the adorable navy blue and white sailor dress that I wore. When I was a baby, that would be my signature clothing because that was the priciest thing I had when I was little. What's so special about this dress you may ask. I had this dress, and when I grew out of it, I passed it onto my cousin Emily who was only 3 months younger than me. Emily then passed it to our younger cousin, Nicole, who wore it all the time like me and Emily. After Nicole grew bigger, she gave it to Amanda, our youngest girl in our family tree on my maternal side, and Emily's sister. And now, we're waiting for our still-single uncle to marry and produce a daughter so we can give that dress to her. That dress has been around for so many years, and I wonder whose wardrobe is it in now. I really do hope my aunts didn't give that dress away to someone because I wanted to keep it, well, because I started that tradition. It's a really pretty dress to, with silky sailor navy blue fabric, and a soft white wide collar flap that folds over your shoulders. There is an anchor monogram on the corner of the wide collar flap. It's very conservative, preppy, and sweet looking.
Entry 40
Take two people who dislike each other and stick them in the backseat of a cab. What happens?
The yellow taxicab rolled right around the corner, when a hurrying Salt was flagging his arm frantically for a taxi.
Sugar was already inside, and she scowled at the driver, for stopping to take Salt in. Salt quickly opened the door and slid in, bumping into Sugar.
"Ow! Watch it, you!" Sugar barked.
"Well, it's customary to make room for an incoming guest!"Salt shot right back
"I did, you rude little snot ball!"Sugar yelled
"Well it's not my fault that your rear is so huge!"
Sugar's sweet little mouth fell agape. "You DID JUST not say that!!"
Salt smiled. "I believe I just did."
"My rear is SO not large! I'm on a strict diet, taking care of my own personal body, unlike you, Mr. Greasy-Fatty-Bratty-acts-like-a-know-it-all-when-you're-so-not SALT!
"Oh and I'm sure YOU are very healthy and clean too, you being in grease-fried doughnut twists, and frosting-filled Cinnabons!
"You!" Sugar shrieked and grabbed Salt's hair.
Salt attacked Sugar, punching her wildly, screaming an Indian rebel yell.
"Ow! Stop pullling on my hair!" Salt hollered.
"You better put a stop to this RIGHT NOW!!!" Sugar screeched.
The taxi driver was so annoyed and distracted by their fighting that he abruptly stopped so sharply at a sudden red light.
WHAM. Salt and Sugar totally slammed together, opening up cuts in their bodies and salt and sugar poured all over the cab backseat, and pooled into a disgusting sweet-but-salty mixture. Immediately, the cab drove straight to the nearest emergency hospital possible--and the nearest auto cleaners. Salt and Sugar were both surgically operated, and received therapy and counseling.
Entry 39
Free Write
Nobody had ever called her. Nobody had rang her cob-webbed doorbell in a dozen years. Nobody greeted her, no one wished her Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, and everybody ignored her existence. People surrounded her were lively. Oh yes. She had a very extroverted, friendly neighbor Anna, who socialized all the time. Her name was Annabelle Louise, and she had two sons, one was dead, the other she had no clue of where he was. So, you can see why Annabelle was so shocked to hear her rusty doorbell ring, and when she opened the door, saw a dandy young man dressed in a creased, snappy black and white suit, with a well-groomed mustache.
"Hello, ma'am. My name is Past Ordoug," he introduced himself, smiling
Annabelle squinted, her white hair flying in the breeze. "I'm sorry, did you just say you are Pastor Doug?"
"Yes. Now, I'm here to guide you on your way to the PPF-past, present, future Expedia Site. Your payment of $2,000 has been verified, and all health forms are submitted in.
Before Annabelle could say anything, she was whisked so fast into a sedan to a large cubicle center, where immediately she was strapped in some sort of a vehicle with a helmet, heavy protection clothes and gloves, and space boots on her. Two other middle-aged couples and a pilot was in the same machine too.
"ALRIGHT. BLASTING OFF IN FIVE, FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE." FWOOSH!!!
"Ok, everyone, please be seated, strapped in to your seats. Before you applied to the PPF Expedia, you have seen a tutorial on how to stay and survive in the Time Machine. It is absolutely CRUCIAL that you know."
Hours later, Annabelle had to go relieve herself. There was a lever by a door, and she thought that lever was going to open the door. She tugged with all her might on it.
BRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEKK. There was an earsplitting screech and the machine stopped whirring, moving, functioning. The lights went dead. Annabelle stood perfectly still, her hand still on the lever.
"ALL RIGHT. WHO DID IT!!! WHO PULLED THE LOCK LEVER? NOW WE'RE STANDSTILL LOCKED IN THE MIDST OF TIME FOR A DECADE!!!" the pilot shouted.
"I-I-I don't know what happened!" Annabelle protested.
"Didn't you see the tutorial, you should never pull that lever!"
"But, I really have no idea WHY I'm here!"
"Aren't you Ms. Anna Bell?
"Yes, yes, I'm Annabelle Louise."
The pilot frowned. "You have 2 last names? Bell and Louise?"
"No! I'm Annabelle Smith. Anna Bell is my neighbor!"
The pilot groaned and burst into tears.
Entry 38
Recall an uplifting experience and write about it.
An uplifting experience that I had was when I was in a swim race, trying out for the Soka University local swim team. No, it's not a college swim team, and no, I am not that good. My frame was not entirely built for sports, you see, but if I had to choose a sport fit for my physique, it would be yoga or ballet. I got into the cold water, and the blond coach instructed me. Go swim a 50 freestyle. I understood, I was to swim 2 laps of freestyle. That wasn't too bad. I started off with a streamline, then gradually swam my way across the lanes, twice. When I reached the other end, I was slightly out of breath, but the coach commanded me again: Backstroke 50. I kicked back off the wall with all the force in my legs and stared power-stroking, scooping up water like boat paddles, rowing myself to the other end. I realized that I was going a little slow. So, when the coach commanded a 75 of breastroke, I swam madly. My head dunked in and out each second--that was how fast I was going. I knew she was timing me with a watch, which made me swim faster. Breathe in and out in and out. My breaths became shallow, and I spent more time underwater than inside. C'mon!! I urged myself. Just the last few feet, go faster!! When I had to do a 50 butterfly, it was so chaotic. My brain and my body weren't cooperating together. I flew upwards, then crashed down, brought my arms with all the strength I could muster, and crashed down into the water again, like a dolphin. Don't get me wrong, my form was good, but I just felt such a stimulating anxiety of swimming. After the butterfly, the tryouts were over, and I came out of the water. My legs were shaking and my feet could barley hold my body up.
Journal Entry 37
Write about a time you hid from someone, or a time you disguised who you really were.
Pulling pranks, has been one of my favorite things to do with my friends. There are so many prank calls, prank IM chats that I had devised. One time I was prank-calling my brother. He was such a wuss, he told on every little thing I did even if I lightly pushed him. Now that this was a prank call, I was thrilled to find out what he would react. I was with my friend Hannah, and we were both in the supply closet in my room. I dialed the usual number *23# to hide the caller ID. After three rings, my brother picked up. I could hear his voice through the walls, and through the phone speaker as well.
"Customer, please tell us your address so we can deliver the noodles to your house," Hannah croaked in a low voice. I started cracking up like crazy. "What?" my brother asked exasperatedly. I croaked into the receiver, "And the payment is is 20,000 won. Thank you for ordering at Ching Chang Chinese Restaurant.
Needless to say, my brother quickly figured out that it was me. But, boy, disguising myself is so exhilarating. It's like you can reinvent yourself again, and forget the flaws that you have.
Journal Entry 36
Write about a cause that you feel strongly about. At what length would you go to fight for this cause?
One cause I really care about is child abuse. I 've heard so many stories-especially the case in Uganda and the Lord Resistance Army. It's so terrible. Pain and sorrow and emotional stress for kids even younger than me is hard to believe. For me, an average middle schooler when I receive a penny or a coin, I don't salvage it-but I would even throw it in a fountain for wishes. When I get a small loaf of bread for lunch-I wouldn't be filled with gratitude-I would complain about how little it was. Normal people who say they care, who say they will put more action into this issue in so many ways I think they cannot understand. I don't really understand either, I just pity them a lot, and I want to take the children in and give them food and warm blankets. I wish I could experience only one day in the life of a Uganda child. So cliche-ridden this statement is, but it's true. When I watch videos, and when I research for world issues like this, children are being torn apart, beaten madly, their body parts cut off, their tiny heads push-dunked into tanks of water as torture, even if they are innocent. I can't get why people do this. Do they enjoy doing this? I would be active in this cause. I would make advocating posters, hold fundraisers, charity events, and donate money.
Journal Entry 35
Write from the point of view of a freshly scrubbed floor
Ahhhh, I exhale deeply again as the maid runs a cool, moisturizing, exfoliating Swiftswipe mop over my face. It takes all the bacteria and grime away from my face, leaving me with a cool, washed feeling. The rest of my body feels the same. I feel like as if I had a nice long hot bath with a invigorating body and facial scrub. I fee clean, fresh, and happy. It won't be long until Jackie, the ultimate dirty filthy boy sets his fishy-smelling, muck-covered feet on me again when he returns from school, but I just like to enjoy the moment wherever the maid wipes me gently with a Swiftswipe mop. I don't like brooms, they never really got the dust out of all my nooks and crannies and plus, those bristles HURT. Ahhh, that feels so refreshing. Hmm.. hold on, I'll come back later, right now I'm enjoying and relishing this precious rare moment...
Journal Entry 34
You can tell a lot abut a person by what he or she says. Here are some things Grandma Dorothy always says.
Grandma Dorothy is a stylish, feminine, old-fashioned grandma who's also strict and follow a set of ettiquette rules. I could imagine her wearing big poofy skirts, diamonds, sleeveless dresses, over-sized studded sunglasses, lacy petticoats, and chandelier earrings. She probably spends a lot of her time, having tea with someone important (in her opinion, anyhow), or picking dresses for the next charity ball she's going to go to, or shopping, and reading. I think she would be the person to own a cat or a bird. Not a dog though. She would have a nice, orange, quiet cat who would sit by her in the fireplace while she knits cashmere sweaters for her cat and for her friends. For some reason, I know I will be kind of like Grandma Dorothy when I grow up and have grandchildren.
Doc from the Movie
very serious knocking the diamonds with the hammer
one who starts the heigh ho!! song everytime they come home from work
red tunic with brown pants, maroon green hat and shoes
short round "Santa" beard
the first in the leader
has their own language like "chimney crickets!"
stuttering so much!!
decides all the decisions
the rest of the dwarfs follow what Doc says
Doc-the quieter, peacekeeper, intervention,
Fighting to Grumpy whether Snow White stays, Grumpy taunts him that he is too tempted by gooseberry pie and other delicious pastries.
takes responsibility of other dwarfs, cleaning them as well
leader of everything, including pranks! Disapproves of time wasting, foolishness, and Dopey.
cuddles with Dopey as they grieve for Snow White (with his hat off!)
dances with joy when he sees that Snow White has risen
Snow White Assignment
Rewrite the fairy tale, Snow White, form the point of view of one of the seven dwarves.
My Dwarf
Doc
Doc's Personalities
-the obvious leader
-the wise "owl-ish" one wearing glasses
-always feels the need for being responsible
-directing the other dwarfs what to do
-brave with courage
-always calm and collected, acting like a true leader, appearing very calm, keeping his cool
-a very fond liker of Snow White
-not too fond of Grumpy
-he may appear like a leader who knows what to do, but maybe inside he has emotional insecurities
-he is very often flustered
-sometimes stutters, can't get his words right
-very conscious, safety cautious, and protective not only of his dwarfs but of Snow White as well
Journal Entry 33
Pick a character from a daytime soap opera. Put him or her in a commuter train. Write about what he or she is feeling or thinking at that moment.
I flinched as I was suddenly sprawled on the cold, linoleum floor and I glanced all around me. My silk robes were soiled with dirt and I glanced around. It was dark outside but I was somehow trapped inside a huge box of metal with square holes cut out on the sides and I could see this was night time. That was when I realized that this box was moving, as I felt the fast surging motion and speed this box was going at. I managed to stand up, but fell back down when I saw people, people covering every inch of the benches at the side of the box. Oh my goodness, I thought silently. But these people were not wearing the silk robes or any robes for any matter. These people the majority of them were wearing blue pants and their shoes with their feet visible. Their toes were wedged between this piece of rubber and it looked awfully uncomfortable. Other people were busily moving their fingers on this rectangular slab of metal and others had some white tiny strangely shaped objects plugged into their ears. I stood up and went to a person who was moving her fingers along the slab of metal.
"Excuse me? Excuse me? Where are we exactly? And I apologize but what are you wearing? Isn't wearing this sort of profanity punishable by the King? Excuse me??"
But the stranger just barely gave me a look before going someplace else.
I must get out of here, I thought. I need to go home. Be with my family. I made my way to one of the square holes and standing about 7 feet away from one of the square holes, I decided to run then jump out while this "box" was still moving. 1, 2, 3..run, run CRASH. My head crashed against something, God knows, and I fell backward. I stood up again, sore, and lifted my leg over so I could climb out of that hole.
Journal Entry 32
Reflect on the group work portion of your commercial project. How did you measure up? Do you believe that you contributed to the group as much as others? What was your role? Did you learn anything?
I think this was a good experience for me. Since, this is a new project, with older people, I felt that I had to be more responsible, but for a time I could just relax. Most group projects I presided over everything because, well, just my luck, that I was partnered up with people who don't work productively. But this time, I was able to do my fair share of contribution.
Journal Entry 31
Write in the voice of a rope about to snap. At least one paragraph 5-8 sentences.
"AH! AH! AHHHHHHHOWWWW!!!!" I screamed internally. I was in terrible agony, I was suffocating and bleeding. I was tied as a primitive safety railing around a construction site of a playground and this rather obese, large kid was sitting on me. His fleshy, pudgy bottom dug deep scratches into my weak body and I started to stretch at first, but now parts of my body were desperately clinging to each other, willing not to snap. I glared up from the shadow of his great, fat build up to his chubby face smeared with chocolate ice cream. If he didn't get up any second, I might just die. "OW OW OW!!" I shrieked when he shifted his seat around me. He had been sitting here for about 10 minutes and for the first 3 minutes, just because of shifting, I got horrible red pockmarks on me smooth, tight body. Next, my body started to tear apart, stretching as if I was silly putty. I could not take it anymore, he was totally crushing my lungs and my internal organs, and I was gushing blood every second. This was the longest I could go, I couldn't bear to stretch any further. My body groaned as it was on the verge of snapping evenly in two. Already some of the stray vessels of my body were poking out from my corpse-to-be. I squeezed my eyes shut as tears came out. I was also burning, this kid, my murderer had a VERY warm body temperature and the heat and pressure was killing me. I uttered a silent prayer, also cursing weighty kids that sit on ropes and railings. The last thing I saw before I completely gave away and snapped in two was the kid's surprised face as he was falling down on the sand as I gave up support for his enormous rear.
Journal Entry 30
Free Write
Have you ever had one day where you just seemed to get constant hiccups for the rest of the day? Today was such a day for me. HIccups really annoy me. At mealtimes, when I get the hiccups, I can't eat. Whenever I hiccup, I feel as if the chewed up food is going to soar up my throat. My chest swells up and my throat feels strange. HIccup. Hiccup. The sound is annoyingly catch, isnt it? I have tried numerous methods, pounding very hard on my back, holding my breath, even asking pepple to scare me, which never worked. Eventually, I discovered a solution. I discovered drinking steaming hot water gave my throat a burning hot feeling and scorched the inner delicate skin, but it did muffle my hiccups. I found that a new promising cure to this nuisance, and I hope other people can use it as well, to prevent such irksome respiratory spasms.
Journal Entry 29
Write about a moment when you and another person (sibling, friend, parent, etc.) bonded
I have really bonded with a girl that I met in kindergarten. Even though we're apart, we are still very close friends. We used to be very best friends--so much that for her birthday party, I was the only guest along with her family and that made me feel like I was part of her family. We really are like soul sisters, I feel like we know each other so well that we know exactly what we're thinking. For example, we can both tell if something is funny or not, because I know her exact sense of humor, whereas with my brother (whom I've been laboriously been stuck with 10 years) I can hardly tell his strange sense of humor. As of now, we are living apart. I really miss the times where we would go swimming in pools, play House, dig through the dirt, play tag at cool playgrounds, and do homework together. It was such a sad departure when she moved to Hong Kong, but we still keep in touch. On her birthday, we promised each other that we would stay like this forever, that we would only invite each other and family to our birthdays because we were such good friends! But as times change, that never happened again after her 8th birthday party. I moved to the U.S. and she moved to Hong Kong. Now I live in Korea, but she still comes over to Korea to visit and we have the the most fun time as if it was summer already!
Journal Entry #28
Free Write
Well, I don't know what to write here, because right now I have mental block and this happens to be an especially extreme case. It's like this creature dwells inside my head and gobbles up all my creativity, inspirations, and ideal thoughts. I can write this journal telling you how I have nothing to write about, I guess? It IS my personal journal after all. I wonder if in the future there is going to be a medicine or a cure you can perform to reduce mental block. When mental block strikes me, and I try to write, I feel as if my brain has all the juices have been literally squeezed out of my brain so that all I have in my skull is a dry, almost moist lump of red stuff. All the fluid thinking has gone out, and I'm dehydrated for creative, inspirational, intelligent thoughts. I don't know when I'm going to return to myself again, what if I never do? I'm going to make this journal entry a little shorter than my usual free-writes, simply because I HAVE MENTAL BLOCK. :(
Journal entry #27
Write a four-line song or poem about mayonnaise.
Sweet and sticky
and sometimes icky
creamy with a whitish glaze
you got it--it's mayonnaise!
Journal Entry #26
A person's choice of a dog is said to express something about his or her personality. Choose five individuals whose names are well-known internationally. What kind of dog would you choose for each? Why? Explain.
Marie Antoinette: I would pick a white-fleece poodle because she is a very lavish, luxurious woman but she was not very courageous nor proactive, just kicked back and relaxed the extravagance. So, I would pick a poodle, a diva-like, spoiled, yappy, whiny dog
Adolf Hitler: I would have a huge, mean, teeth-baring Doberman. The Doberman with a collar of spikes and pointy ears and a mean look about their face. Just like Hitler, they would be merciless and cruel to anyone who stood in their way. they would glare with scary red eyes.
CoCo Chanel: I would think she has a Great Dane, simply because Great Danes are very simple, thin, and elegant, just like Chanel and her designs of clothing.
Prince William: I think he would either have a border collie or an English cocker spaniel because he is very aristocratic royal, honorable, and knightly. A Border Collie is very smart, wise, and brave and an English cocker spaniel looks very regal and proud.
Michael Phelps: For Michael Phelps, I think a Siberian Husky or a golden retriever would suit him. He is very muscular, strong, and robust so something like a strong, sturdy Husky or a golden retriever would match his physical frame.
Journal Entry #25
Reflect on the process of writing a short story What did you enjoy abou it? What was difficult? How would you approach it differently if you did it again?
If you asked me on short story writing, I really liked the process. When I was little, I used to write short stories just for fun, I spoke short stories. I would just get any itsy bitsy inspiration from absolutely ANYWHERE and that would be enough for me to fuel out a whole short story. If you just have a good, sturdy idea coming from an original thought of inspiration, it can really make a good short story. For this story, I wrote just nouns, verbs, adj. on pieces of paper and mixed a lot of them in a bowl. I would close my eyes and dig through the pieces of paper until I picked a noun, verb, adjective that would form a sentence, and build my short story from there. For example, if the words I picked were: cat, lab, house, purple , I could write about a purple cat who tries to conquer and attack against a Labrador retriever in the next door neighbor's house. Now, the difficult part is that you have to mold and form it. You have to shape the climax so that it's clear to the reader, and add just the right amount of details to the falling action, resolution, etc. You have to make sure the plotline flows and the purpose of the story is known and clear. If I had to do this assignment over I would first clearly construct and lay out the plot development rather than write at it. Some great stories sometimes spawn from an impulse but apparently not for me.
Journal Entry #24
Free Write
Braces. Honestly, I know they are good for me. But I CANNOT stand braces. Sometimes, when I go to the orthodontist, and they tighten my braces, I have no trouble with it. I can just cope with it. But this time, oh boy. They tightened my braces up to the point where I could not bear to move my mouth to chew anything or eat anything except water and fluids. Those heavy looking metal brackets stick to my teeth like leeches or suction cups and feed me pain. I feel like a world-class sumo wrestler is grabbing tight onto my little small teeth and tearing them apart. I could actually feel the tooth moving, planted deep inside my gums. It frustrates me, when I am very hungry, and all I want is just something to eat, I cannot eat without suffering burden and agony. I just want to take these out! It feels so uncomfortable and I wonder what my teeth will feel without these horrible metals. But for right now, my teeth are caged inside these metal train tracks. Go figure...
Journal Entry #23
People often say, "If we can send a man to the moon, surely we can figure out to..." Complete the sentence in five different ways.
If we can send a man to the moon, surely we can figure out to cook a Thanksgiving dinner
If there are astronauts up in space, we can send pets to space
If we can send a man to the moon, we can settle a pointless argument
If mankind can go to the moon and come back alive, you can go to a dentist appointment and come back alive
If we can send a man to the moon we can surely invent flying shoes
Journal Entry #22
Blurp! Slosh! Snort! Write a paragraph incorporating at least ten onomatopoetic words. Onomatopoetic words are words that sound like what they mean.
It was a busy day at the Maylor's farm. Taylor Maylor went out to feed the pigs because they were the most demanding. Snort, snort, squish, smush, what a noise they made. Taylor poured the slops out of the red bucket pail, then turned her attention to the cow pen. Moo, mooooo, the cows sounded as if they were demanding her to serve them straws. Taylor hurriedly gave them a nice lofty bale of straw and ran over to the chicken coop. Cawk! Squawk! Taylor could hear noisy chicken sounds a great distance before she even reached the coop. She opened the door with a heavy thud, and stepped inside. Chickens flew everywhere, batting their large, heavy wings in the air with a swoosh sound as they attempted to lift up their plump bodies. Taylor quickly collected the eggs, careful not to drop one and crack it there on the spot. She hurried out of the coop. Cockle-doodle-dooo!!! the rooster crowed obnoxiously. She glared at the old mean rooster. It wasn't even the right time to crow yet.
Journal Entry #21
I wake out of sleep with one bleary eye. My vision is blurred and I can only make out in the hazy dawn light, the figure of my desk and my swivel chair. My first instinct every time I awake of this short temporary death is that I glance at the clock at my bedside table. There it is, my clock, which used to appear very delicious in chocolate brown, looked nauseating to me, as I checked the time; exactly 7 AM. I groan as I was supposed to wake up an hour earlier. Now, I would hardly have time to prepare. I try to get up, however I feel as if there are magnets attached underneath my bed. It was excruciating to get up. My back ached, and the vertebrates felt like they have been attached with sticky paint glue. My bloated legs weigh me down and I strain to lift one heavy lead pillar up to get up. There must've been a gas lamp inside my head because my head felt so hot and burning. What was wrong? I couldn't breathe, the channels of my nose were all crusty with dried-up snot and my fumbling tongue was a languid leaf of a plant that was not watered for 30 days. My throat felt red and swollen. My head ached and pounded and blood pounded in my ears. I kicked off my blankets and then a chilled shiver coursed all throughout my body making my limbs tingle. Then the searing hot sensation would return again. I just quickly got up, wanting to go to the bathroom and splash some cold water over my face. But when I did, I fell because the floor was tilting slanted. Waves of dizziness clouded my head and nausea churned in the pit of my horribly empty stomach. Any moment I was so scared that I might vomit or pass out. The back of my left arm was spotted with grotesque, disgusting red dots. Does this mean chicken pox? I wondered. It looked like a diseased arm and I looked away repulse. There were also tiny slimy little bumps on the roof of my mouth and I was so disgusted. Realizing I couldn't remain sprawled on the floor any longer I jumped up quickly inside my bed, drawing the covers way over my feverishly pounding head, praying that I would go to sleep and not endure this awful agony.
Journal Entry #20
Free write for 3 minutes on this cliche: "ice running through her veins"
What I think this cliche means is that when soemone has "ice running through her veins" that person is a very cold-hearted, chilled, lonely, gloomy person not joyful, friendly, or amicable at all. I met several people throughout my life that had ice running through their veins. Let me tell you of one particular person. This person didn't just have ice pumped through her ice vessels.
Journal Entry #19
List 10 things you usually do on a rainy day. Pick one from your list and free write for 5 minutes.
1. give myself a pedicure
2. read a book
3. listen to music
4. play the piano or the cello
5. surf the Internet, chat with friends, go on Facebook
6. try to cook something of my own
7. do arts and crafts: like making an umbrella out of a windbreaker, making some cool accessories
8. sleep
9. make a Youtube video
10. do homework
One things I usually do on a rainy day is paint my toenails. I don't know why I do it, I think it's kind of like a tradition that I give myself a pampering mani-pedi. Possibly, when I have no homework or nothing to do, I just get out bottles of nail polish, Acetone, and cotton swabs and start painting. The color polish I have on my toes right now is a silver-ish polish with tints of gold reflecting in it. It's a pretty unique color, and quite unusual for me to wear; usually I am in shades of red, pink, and sometimes blue. But just like when you are chewing gum, I get bored of the color quite easily. Maybe next time, I can give myself a French pedicure with neat white tips and neutral polish. I once tried that myself and painted little white flowers on my toes when I was young. When it comes to painting my toes, I get very experimental.
Entry #18
Create a character-profile for your character in your short story.
Journal Entry #17
Describe in detail a person who leaves no stone unturned.
"Where is my iPhone? Where is it? Where is it????"
Having heard this phrase too many times in one day, I chose to ignore rather than comment and bring forth more lamentations.
My friend Christy was searching everywhere. She picked up a nearby purse and flipped it over and dumped everything out. Hand mirrors, cosmetic bags, lipgloss tubes, packs of gum, two pairs of sunglasses, crumpled paper, her iPod, eyeshadow pallets, a bunch of wrapped peppermints...
Christy dropped to her knees and started feeling around the floor as if she were a blind person getting up. She ran to the guest room and searched inside out underneath the guest room bed, She looked behind the piano, searched every corner of my room, in the hamper, in the showers, even in my glasses's case. I could tell she was going mad and after 3 hours, she came back into the living room where her purse contents lay scattered all over the floor. She was fuming, her ponytail was
Journal Entry #16
Write a rhyme paragraph. Each sentence must being and end with the words that rhyme with each other
Candy is so tasty, it's so sweet and very dandy
Mint, peppermint, gumdrops with a honeyed, sweetened tint
Twix bars, chocolate, lollipop licks
Snickers appease our bickers
Reese's cups with peanut-buttery fleeces
S'mores and nuts galore
White chocolate is a delicious delight
Comic Strip
Journal Entry #15
This is a story that happened ages ago.
Journal Entry #14
Electricity is a recent discovery. Think of 12 things to do when there is no power.
When there is no power, I wouldn't have much to do but these 12 things.
1. read a nice book
2. write a letter instead of composing an email
3. help around the house
4. think of how to get the power back on
5. make dishes from the recipes in your cook book
6. play the piano
7. chat (like talking, not IM'ing) with your friends, neighbors, siblings, a pet
8. eat a delicious meal made of fresh, authentic ingredients
9. write a song or a poem or a short story
10. walk a dog or play with a pet if you have one (fish don't count) ;P
11. dance to a song on the radio
12. plant flowers, take care of the garden until evening
Journal Entry #13
What kind of cartoon show might appeal to the overage 65 audience. Imagine the show. Then, in 100 words or less, describe the show and its main character.
The cartoon show that appeal to people over 65 might be a show titled: I Swear on My Dentures. This show is about a family of old seniors 2 woman seniors: Amy and Sally and 2 men seniors: Billy and Jack. They live in a home sponsored for old people and they have great adventures. Because their personalities differ from each other, the show develops an interesting twist. Amy is a rather wistful grandma of 3 granddaughters, and is always trying to relive her old days of her glam pop singer when people recognized her as famous, attended her concerts, and she got to wear glitzy costumes. She is constantly trying to bring some of her glamorous lifestyle into her old, plain, current lifestyle. Sally is a spoiler with children, and since she is no longer one, she values them as the most precious things in the world. However she has no grandkids by far and is constantly encouraging her kids to give birth so she could have some grandkids that she could "bake brownies for, make necklaces to, and adore, adore, adore". Jack is a grumpy old grandpa, who lost all his interest in anything else besides ESPN golf and his oh-so-precious garden. He and Sally are spouses, and often they argue over a lot of things, which are hilarious at some points to Sally and Billy. Billy is a fantastic cook, better than the ladies. He doesn't get the style around the modern century, why people wear jeans, why they wear Converse the ugliest the shoe in the world, and how miniscule computers and cellphones are and doesn't get the new century.
Journal Entry #12
Ice cream is one of life's necessities. My favorite ice cream flavor is rocky road and yogurt. The reason why I like rocky road is that it contains dark chocolate, bits of nuts, and marshmallows. The way the chocolate chunks are embedded into the chocolate ice cream with marshmallows makes it so appealing. I also like yogurt. It is not too sweet, and calorie-free. If you pick the right toppings, you can create something more delightful than the word "yogurt" sounds. Now can you see why I'm raving about these flavors?
Journal Entry #11
Use the following words in a story: little boy, torn page, market, cart
A little boy was walking on the Arabian bazaar, known as a market for selling exotic goods, foods, spices, and other merchandise. The boy stared in awe at the wonder around him the carts full of juicy, cool melons, the rich gold dust around the shops that sold perfumes and spices, the busyness of the bazaar, and the hawkers walking up and down yelling stuff like "Sale! Sale! Buy teapots for sale!" He glanced back at the list that his mother gave him, exhorting him to carry out the list of things she had enlisted for him to buy. He was mesmerized by this. He had never been out to the bazaar, not alone anyways.
"Watch out, little lad!!" a husky voice screamed so close by, the boy jumped. When he whirled his head around to see, an out-of-control cart was hurdling towards him, so close he didn't have time to back out. The cart smashed into his face, shiny gold brass teapots and bags of seeds and figs flew everywhere smacking the little boy's cheeks and his head. The little boy fell with startled surprise. He happened to fall down on a full-bellied cotton stack full of ripe figs. Dark red juice squirted everywhere, staining his pants. He was badly bruised and scarred. Just when he couldn't take any injury, a humongous, reflective gold teapot fell from the sky and clanged with his forehead. He fell unconscious.
Hours later, the mother sat at home, frantic, and nibbling her nails why her precious little boy hadn't returned. Finally she couldn't take it any longer. She set out to go find the little boy. She frantically asked the others if they had seen a little stout boy with hazel eyes and sand-blown brown hair. They all shook their heads. When she was about to give up, when she was on the verge of breaking out in tears, she found her little boy with a red, blood-oozing mark on his forehead, and red juice-stained clothes and skin. He was lying down, his mouth partly open. It seemed that there was a huge calamity. Without any thought, she scurried forward, put the boy on her shoulder, despite the heavy weight and pain, she ran all the way without stopping. She nursed him, squeezing wet washcloths and washed his clothes. In the middle of the night, he came conscious. The mother was grateful and relieved he had revived so quickly. The two hugged and the boy promised to be more cautious.
Journal #10
It was a blazing hot summer day. Claire sat down at the pool chairs, licking a raspberry Popsicle, unsure of what to do. She had absolutely no friends to hang out with, no source of amusement around the house. She walked over to the pool and dipped her feet into it. She noticed there was a shiny sheen radiating and rubbed the sand away to reveal a lustrous, hard, iridescent stone. She picked it up, inspecting it. The stone slipped right through her clumsy, fumbling fingers into the pool. Claire backed away when she saw that the ripples had never ceased. The pool began to froth and Claire's breath choked in her throat. A small whirlpool started to form. Claire cocked her head in curiosity and edged forward. And just like that, as if an invisible force had grabbed her ankle and dragged her forward. Her hands shot out side of her instinctively and scraped on the concrete, but it was futile. She reluctantly went into the pool, waiting for the cold shock surprise, but the water was warm and soft. She kept going downwards and the pool was deeper than she thought it was. Then a deep rumbling voice so deep it shook and vibrated her eardrums rang out.
"Good morning. Why have you summoned me, brought me back from my 500-year period of sleep?"
"I, uh...I, "that was all Claire could manage to stammer out.
Journal Entry #9
Describe what you feel right now using your sense of smell. If you feel frustrated, write about what your frustrations smells like. Use vivid words. Don't skimp on adjectives.
I feel glad, almost happy today. I also feel a little anxious and nervous. I smell a sweet, fragrant smell also concentrated with something processed, something stale-smelling as if I were sniffing pennies. Right now, my smell is really strange and have mixed scents. I smell light, aromatic smell, perfumed, very sweet and pleasant to my nostrils. However, there's a metallic smell that adds an edge to it, and disrupts the peace and serenity of the fragrance. It is the smell of worry and anxiety. The smell that conjures up thoughts of fear, apprehension.
Journal Entry #8
Write a paragraph about a cat attacking something but don't use the words, hiss, scratch, or pounce.
The fiery, black cat eyed the ragdoll warily. You could tell it that it was a cat of high authority and pride, the way its sleek, black fur shone, the radiant, lime green eyes that flickered, and its trim, slim body. He leaped forward and clawed the rag doll who was lying on the cat bed where, he, the cat should be. He clawed viciously, producing a low-throated growl and sharpened its razor-sharp claws. He started scraping the doll so that tears of fabric and stuffing resulted. The sewn on eyes fell out, its clothes became ripped so many times, and its bonnet was destroyed. The cat smiled in satisfaction and sauntered away, leaving the ruins of his owner's own doll.
Journal Entry #7
Fatima is a very spoiled teenage girl. Show that she is spoiled describing what happens when she doesn't get a car for her birthday.
"Don't peek, sweetie!" Fatima's mother said smiling expectanty with her hands over her oh-so-precious daughter.
"We can't wait to show you what we got for you," Fatima's father singsonged giddily.
Fatima's mind was racing. Was it that smoking, cherry-red Ferrari that she wanted so badly? She imagined in there, in her renovated garage with a big red bow on top of it to match of her glassy, shiny, trendy car.
"Open!" Fatima's mother's hands suddenly disappeared from her face, and she eagerly looked around with wide eyes of that Ferrari. Nothing was there, except a jewelry box of a necklace with a diamond and tiny little clear-cute emeralds and crystals and the finest silver string. Then she saw a mannequin with a fantastic black sleeveles dress on it, the one she was angry at her mother for not buying her. Next to that there was a brand-new, just-came-out-yesterday Louis Vuitton tote that looked so pristine. But there was no Ferrari. Her face turned blotchy red. Tears came to her eyes. There was no Ferrari. There was no Ferrari.
"Mommm! I said I wanted a car not all this," she waved her hand carelessly at the presents her parents got for her as if they were a pile of rotting trash.
"I know, sweetheart, but the car was out of sale, I mean, they were running out. And it would take at least two weeks to produce another cherry-red one you wanted. I'm very sorry but we bought multiple gifts to make it up for you!" Fatima's mother coaxed her.
Fatima shook her head so hard that her birthday tiara fell out.
"This is the WORST birthday party EVER. How could you? Mom? Dad? Do you not, like love me anymore?" Fatima screamed, threw her tiara and plopped down on the floor.
"Fatima, please..."
"NO, don't make up silly little excuses for what you did. YOU should be ashamed of yourselves, considering this is my sweet sixteen, and you didn't give me what I WANT!" Fatima shrieked. She started pounding the floor. "Why, why why?! All my friends got a car for their birthday. All of them. So, why can't I get a Ferrari??"
"Honey, your friends all got hand-me-down trucks and beat-up Toyotas. You're special. You got a special Tiffany's necklace, a Louis Vuitton bag, a dress by Vera Wang all these luxuries. We love you, and you know that."
"Fatima, I promise, I will make every effort to buy you that Ferrari right when it comes out..."
But Fatima wouldn't take it any longer. She stormed out of the garage and slammed the door behind her. She yelled at her butler and went up to her designer master-suite bedroom and cried, hating her parents.
"Whatever!" she screeched to her high-tech intercom in her room, crying tears of anger. "I REALLY don't understand you two!! Have I been not been the best daughter?? Why do you hate me?? You better give me that car right when it comes out, Daddy. I expect it right here in the garage, right when I wake up on whatever day it comes out!" Slam.
Journal Entry #6
Describe your bedroom the way you want it to be.
Of course, everyone wants a perfect bedroom to fit their personality and their self. I love my bedroom now, but if I what it takes to create a perfect bedroom, I wouldn't be able to do it. But I would be able to describe it in this journal.
A bedroom that I would love with be with hardwood floors, with really dark polished floorboards. I also would want beige, light apricot, or light lavender color for my walls. Then, I would love a sky-painted ceiling. One of those European style paintings where there are clouds and angels painted on the sky like a ceiling. I would want a white wooden desk, one of those large desks with drawers attached to it. I would want that desk in the left hand corner of the room. My bed would be a high sleigh bed with soft duvets and squishy pillows. I would also want a large bureau to keep some of my clothes then an extra closet to hold the remnants. I also cannot live without a nightstand table, it keeps my alarm clock, calendar, Kleenexes, and water. I would also like a lounge chair and a small round coffee table near the windows as a reading nook or something. I'd also like to hang exotic but renowned paintings on my walls.
Journal Entry #5
Silly is a middle-aged man who combs his remaining limp strands of hair into an elaborate swirl over his bald spot, gluing them in place with hair spray and hoping no one will notice.
Silly is a golden retriever who slinks sheepishly off the sofa whenever his owner comes home, hoping despite the piles of hair all over the cushion that she won't notice he's been sleeping.
Silly is a robust, bulky, husky man who eats a full-sized T-bone steak at least thrice a day, wears spiked leather jackets with matching spiked leather cuffs, and shirts with scary logos.
Silly is a mischievous little girl with a dexterous mind and hands, who always tries to hide in their parent's closet at night, trying to scare them when they are sleeping.
Silly is a grumpy, hot-tempered cat who only likes to sleep and take a bath, and hisses and paws indignantly whenever the neighbor's perky Collie, Tilly, approaches her.
Journal #4
Close your eyes briefly. Think of one object that's in the room and focus on it without opening your eyes, recall as much detail as you can about it. After three minutes or so, open your eyes and write about that abject without looking at it.
Turquoise leather glasses case made out of leather. It was opened, all pristine and smooth with plush turquoise velour inside it. There were silver engravings the word Zoff which was the company of these spectacle-making cases. There had been a clasp to close it, it had a silver button on it. The case was in a pretty shape, a semi circle-shaped glasses case that opened out from the top. Inside, there is a pair of sleek, chocolate-brown glasses wrapped in a dove-gray silk kerchief. The glasses are wrapped up with the glasses sitting with the lenses up.
Journal #3
It was an unusually frigid afternoon. I got ready to hit the tennis courts, to practice tennis--a tennis coach was probably waiting in his windbreaker and gloves wondering where I was. Well, I was walking steadily towards the tennis court, kicking ice as I went. The ice was so slick and slippery. I felt I was walking on an ice-skating rink or a frozen lake. It was a pretty funny feeling, just sliding easily on the ice, a carefree feeling rippled through my body. Wind slapped relentlessly against my face but I didn't mind. I could barely open my eyes because of the knife-wind but I managed to find my way. About 80 feet before I reached the tennis court I was taking wide strides. The ice on the ground was pretty thin, and my foot buckled underneath me. It lost its grip on the glassy ice and I flew up as my foot slid beneath me. I landed hard on the ice. And because the ice was wafer-thin, it crashed, shards shattered everywhere. I felt as if I had jumped down on a glass vase. My bones ached horribly and it took me a while to get up. I weakly walked about 60 feet my coach called in the distance. "Class canceled! The ice is too slippery. Someone could get hurt." He winked and went back inside. I turned around staring back at the huge walkway covered in ice so slippery I wondered if it was lubricated, and wondered how figure skaters survived it when they fell countless times.
Journal Entry #2
Pick 20 things that annoy you
1. mosquitoes
2. waiting in line
3. my brother
4. when Powerschool isn't updated when you want it to be
5. when I lose my books, pens, pencils, etc.
6. when a mechanical pencil malfunctions
7. slow Internet
8. the swirling rainbow cursor on the Mac when something's not working
9. sticky hands, sticky anything for that matter
10. when a really tall person or someone with a ridiculously heightened hairstyle sits in front of me at the cinemas or at a concert hall
11. when you know you have homework but you just can't stop chatting
12. when you forget your homework
13. wet hair
14. when people whisper to each other in my presence
15. when your neighbor makes an awful lot of noise
16. when you lose your phone
17. hair on the floor, pillows, cushions
18. when you have to stay up late at night for homework
19. Abercrombie or Hollister double zippers that don't zip up easily
20. walking in the rain
The 3 short projects
Journal Entry #1: Write a Paragraph about a girl named Dot, but use no letters with (i, j)
Dot was a very shy, small, teenager who rather preferred to read rather than hang out and have company of her peers. She was not an extrovert, she read books, rarely spoke, and drew cartoons on colored paper. She had very puny eyes, face, arms, and feet, hence the name Dot. Dot went to a school--a brand-new school that she hardly knew about. Her mother hoped that she could make some playmates in her classes. Her mother was more than concerned about the lack of playmates Dot had. Dot felt so nervous she felt that she could puke and pass out. The car was suffocated. Her mother's words were not consolatory, merely a blur she could not comprehend.