Having the quality of something created rather than imitated
Managed so as to get around legal or conventional limits
No, the dictionary definitions don't quite match my idea of "creative." The definitions of "creative" from the dictionary are describing it as a sort of skill that can be achieved, similar to originality. When I think of creative, the word imagination always comes to mind, as well as a sort of whimsical yet strong image. Creativity, to me, is one of those things you just can't quite describe, but instead must be content with a loose description of the feelings surrounding the object. A "creative idea" seems like something that presses on the limits of your mind; something bright, spontaneous, yet at the same time fleeting like wind that can't remain caught in a box.
Original definition: Creative (adj)
Involving whimsical, imaginative and original thoughts.
List 20 things that annoy you; pick one to write about.
This girl who goes around telling people off like she's better than everyone else
Another girl who blames others for messing up her life
When my little brother cries for no reason
Homework due the same day as a big project
That Twilight is more popular than The Hunger Games
Catching a cold every other month
Losing things and having no idea where they went
People who laugh and talk WAY to loud on the bus
People who discourage you
People who complain about EVERYTHING
Hypocrites
People who can't get the hint to bug off
People who think everyone likes them
My fear of bugs.
People who get mad at you when the problem was their fault
People who just uselessly go on and on about their problems.
When someone doesn't get that your annoyed and talk endlessly at you
Headaches
When one windshield wiper pushes water away... and then the other wiper pushes it back.
People who blatantly say they're annoyed at something you did yet try to hide it using opportunities such as writing this list. (Meaning I'm sort of annoyed at myself right now... but I'm going to do it anyway)
One annoyance that really bugs me, literally, is my fear of insects. When I was young, I used to play everyday in the dirt, digging up roly-polies and poking them with my fingers. Now I freak-out when I see any bugs near me, even small ones. One time when I was walking home from school in America, I found a bee buzzing around my front door. Not in front, around. Yet I still found it scary to even try and run past the bee and through my door, and I ended up waiting outside for half an hour before my mom came out to fetch (and scold) me. Also once while I was reading a book, and ant crawled across the page. After screaming and slamming the book shut, I stomped on it several times before hiding it deep under my bed. I haven't opened that book ever since. My over-reaction with bugs annoys even me, but I still get grossed out by them. I wish that I could just get over my fear, catch bugs in a tissue, and flush them down the toilet, but even that freaks me out. My family seems to think that its funny, and my cousins ridicule me for it, but as I try to explain many times, it isn't as if I haven't tried to get over my fear. After several occurrences with bugs as mentioned above, I really got fed up with myself and said to everyone, "Ok, I'm not going be scared of bugs anymore. Next time I see a spider, I'm going to catch it with only one tissue." In my defense, it was easier said than done. Everyone else will just say that I chickened out and ran away.
Journal #2 (1/27/10)
Write a paragraph about a girl named Dot, but use no letters with (i,j).
Dot was seven years old when she began to explore the woods beyond her house. Dot had fun when she adventured through the forest, and she traveled deeper and deeper each day. One day she saw a tree just off the path; it was a very old tree, knotted and gnarly looking, but near the top of the tree hung a fresh red apple. Dot was so happy about the apple that she suddenly ran off the path and toward the tree, her eyes only for the red apple. But through her eagerness to get at the apple, Dot couldn't see the tree root ahead of her and she tumbled over onto the ground. She clutched her ankle and shed tears because she hurt so much, for while she'd fallen Dot had broken her ankle. Down on the ground Dot stayed for hours, not able to move. At last when the sun had nearly set, Dot's mother found her crouched under the tree and gently took her back to the house, where Dot had to stay up to the week when her ankle mended. Needless to say, Dot was much more careful to watch out for tree roots from that day on.
Journal #3 (1/30/10)
Free-write: Procrastination >.<
Every adult I know agrees that the one key to a productive life is good time management. Whether it's managing my day's study schedule or a plan for the week, I know that I should complete what's important first before playing. I know it very well; in fact, it's more firmly imbedded in my mind than 2 + 2 = 4, yet I still procrastinate whenever I can. However little time or much homework I have, my hand always gets drawn to time-consumers such as Facebook, iChat, YouTube, and sometimes I just end up pointlessly surfing the web. As you might be able to guess, I'm working on this journal only after several hours on the web, Facebook-ing, and watching and downloading videos. I really need something to teach me a lesson about procrastination, because even though I do play first, my work comes out fine, and so I just keep on procrastinating. Simply promising myself to manage my time better never worked in the first place; I always ended up saying I'd start the next day... then the day after that... and so on. Even now, I feel like stopping writing this journal and going on Facebook. In conclusion, hmm... uh... I feel like I need to think of a good concluding sentence for this journal, and I'll do it... tomorrow.
Journal #4 (2/3/10)
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, open your eyes and write about that object without looking at it.
From the bookcase in my room hangs a round horseshoe from a sparkly red ribbon. The horseshoe was painted a bright gold color, but it has faded into a dingy golden brown. In some areas, the horseshoe is mottled brown and the original gray iron color, and the rest of the shoe is also worn from age. The left and right sides of the horseshoe have curved grooves with 3 holes placed evenly apart for the nails to be driven into. The paint on the inside of the grooves was sprayed on unevenly, and as a result it is rough and looks like mountainous terrain from high above. The round closed end of the horseshoe looks the most worn; its paint has been scratched and rubbed so much that you can see the iron underneath. On the top left hand corner is scratched in WAHEC in small, dark brown characters, standing for "Wild About Horses Equestrian Camp."
Journal #5 (2/3/10)
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 hone, hoping - despite the piles of hair all over the cushion - that she won't notice he's been sleeping there.
What else is silly? Give three more examples.
Silly is an old lady who piles on blue eyeshadow, bright red lipstick, white face powder, and other ridiculous makeup in an useless effort to look younger but only succeeds in looking like a freakish clown.
Silly is a student who knows she has mountains of homework due the next class, yet still fools around on her laptop and wastes an enjoyable, but now useless, four hours before she starts in on her assignments when the sound of her parents snoring reminds her that it's late.
Silly is a student who spends eight long hours a day at hagwons in order to perform better in school, but is then too sleepy and tired to complete their homework well, resulting in failing the class.
Journal #6 (2/4/10)
Describe your bedroom the way you want it to be.
First of all, my bedroom would be very, VERY large. About the entire length and 2/3 the length of width of Mrs. Mccord's room, it would have glossy dark hardwood floors and snow white walls. On one side of the room would be a clear glass sliding door with a small balcony outside, with curtains of a sunflower yellow color. All the furniture, including two large bookcases, a queen-sized bed, a spacious desk, and several walk-in closets, are made of dark hardwood of a slightly lighter shade than the floor. The bed is covered in fluffy white pillows and a rich dark-red bedspread, and a small bed-table is beside it. One bookcase is full of my favorite books, and The Hunger Games is given a special place of honor on a middle shelf, along with my snow globes. The other bookcase contains books as well, and also many CD's. My desk is tidy and neat, with glossy black speakers on either side of the desk and a white dock for my iPod to the left. Placed in the middle is my shiny Macbook Pro, and no textbooks or homework of any kind are visible. On the corner opposite my bed is a black flat-screen TV, and in the middle of that same wall hangs a circular silver clock. On the wall above my desk hangs a huge poster, running almost the entire length of the desk, hangs a glossy poster of 2PM. After all, my dream room wouldn't be complete without my favorite band. ^^
Journal #7 (2/8/10)
Fatima is a very spoiled teenage girl. Show that she is spoiled by describing what happens when she doesn't get a car for her birthday.
As Fatima looked on at the purebreed poodle her parent's had given her for her 16th birthday, her face began to turn first a pink, then light red, scarlet, blood red, purple. Gathering herself up to her fullest hight, you could practically see steam coming out of Fatima's ears, and lasers shooting out of her fuming eyes. She opened her big mouth so wide that you could see every perfect white tooth in it, and then she screamed. Oh it was a terrifying screech, so loud that birds flew out from the tops of trees in the surrounding miles. "Where is my car!" she shouted, half whining, have berating her parents. She didn't even bother to pout and widen her eyes into a puppy face, so annoyed and angered was she at not receiving a Porscha for her birthday. As her dad rushed to explain and console her, quickly saying that they'd go to the car dealership tomorrow, Fatima visibly cooled down and pretended to collapse onto the ground. She sniffed and blinked fake tears out of her eyes (of course she couldn't have shed real tears, it would have messed up her makeup!) and began to whimper. "B.. bu... but... but, but I wanted a car for my birthday Daddy." Fatima continued on with her act and her shoulders shook with imaginary sobs; it wasn't until her dad promised both a car and a new dress for her that she stopped "crying."
Journal #8 (2/10/10)
Write a paragraph about a cat attacking something, but don't use he words hiss, scratch, or pounce.
Fluffy crawled onto her master's bed and yawned, it was the time of day to be lazy and just relax. The weather was hot, bright sunlight shined through the curtains, and the master's young were off to school; the perfect day to spend sleeping. Rolling onto his belly, Fluffy pawed into the air as something landed on his nose. Achoo! He sneezed. Soon Fluffy's sharp eyes caught the sight of a piece of fluff in the air, floating around. Getting up on his haunches, Fluffy crouched just as his mother had taught him and waved his tail in the air. Wait... wait... wait... MREOOOWWWW! Fluffy leaped into the air just as the fluff floated past his nose, but he'd been too impatient and missed. He got back up and shook himself out, he wouldn't make that mistake again. Flicking the fur out of his eyes, Fluffy sought of the fluff in the big room again. Seeing it hanging by the closet, Fluffy crawled forward on his hind legs, careful to tread lightly in case a vibration caused it to move. Just as the fluff started falling downward toward him, Fluffy screeched again and leaped for it, finally catching it in his paws. Mreeeeeow, he licked himself, pleased. Taking the fluff in one paw, he padded to his own cozy den and dropped it in. Fluffy stamped on the fluff several times to make sure it wouldn't escape, then leaped onto the sofa with his tail held high. Mreow, mommy would be proud.
Journal #9 (2/12/10)
Describe what you feel right now using your sense of smell. If you feel frustrated, write how you feel using only your sense of smell. Use vivid words and don't skimp on descriptive language.
I feel a bit queasy right now, since I gulped down my breakfast in three bites this morning. The entire room feels stuffy because of it, a mixture of warm air and lavender. It smells a lot like a woman's flowery perfume, swirling around and choking me. There's also a thin, creamy smell around my stomach as well as my mouth, although that's perhaps because I'd just used lavender scented chap-stick. I really want to go outside and taste the crisp winter air, smell the cool white snow, but I'm stuck inside a stuffy room with 17 other people. :P
Journal #10 (2/17/10)
Free-write: February Snow ^^
The pure-white snow falls down freely outside the window, tossing and turning in the wind. Racing to the window to take a look, the delicate designs of the snowflakes are clearly visible. Each snowflake has its own individual and unique form, but all are beautiful. I watch one flake go by, then another, and another, as millions of them fall from the sky. Together they swirl around in the air, looking as perfect as the flakes falling from a snow-globe. It seems ironic that something so graceful and pretty can in one swoop turn into my enemy, as my cold feet trudge home in the fallen snow.
Journal #11 (2/18/10)
Use the following words in a story: little boy, torn page, market, cart.
"Thank you Mama!" exclaimed the little boy, eagerly accepting his first ever allowance money.
"Just remember to use it wisely dear," replied the mother.
The boy nodded quickly before sprinting out to the door and down the road, toward the center of town. The market would start closing down soon, and he needed to get there before all the good toys sold out. The boy looked at the ten dollars in his hand and smiled, it would by many yummy snacks and fun trinkets. Reaching the marketplace, he looked around in awe. He'd been to the market with his mother before, but never alone. Everything seemed so much bigger, noisier, smellier. The boy walked toward the van that sold books. Lizzie's, his little sister, favorite picture book had a torn page, and he wanted to buy her a new one. Tugging on the coat of the man running the store, the boys said, "Sir, may I please have some comic books and a copy of My Little Pony?"
"How many do you want sonny?" asked the kindly old man, pulling out the books the boy wanted.
The boy thought for a little while, "How much are they sir?"
"Well," said the man, "Since these are used copies, I'll give you the Little Pony book and 4 comic books for $10."
"Oh thank you sir!" exclaimed the boy. Happily accepting the books from the man, the boy skipped down the road back toward his home. On the way though, his chubby eight year old arms quickly grew tired from carrying all the books, so he set them down to rest. Oh how he wished he'd thought of bringing the bright blue little cart he'd received last Christmas; with his cart, carrying all the books home would have been a piece of cake! Sighing, the boy picked the books back up and heaved them all the way home.
"Hello dear," said his mom, "Did you have fun at the market?"
The boy nodded, "Yes Mama. I got four new comic books today!"
Looking shocked, the mother reprimanded her son. "Now, you didn't spend all your allowance money today, did you?"
"Yes Mama," said the boy, "I did."
"Then why aren't you looking more ashamed of yourself?" she scolded, "I told you to spend your allowance carefully."
"But Mama!" piped up the boy, holding out the Little Pony book in his hand, "I got a book for Lizzie too!"
The mom smacked her forehead and shook her head, a smile creeping up on her face. "Okay Tommy, it's okay this time. Just remember to use your money more wisely next time." ^^
Journal #11.5 (2/21/10)
Free-write: Hopes on Ice
South Korea's strengths in the Winter Olympic have long lied in short track speed-skating. We've won many medals for the sport over the years, but never one in a sport that didn't involve a man skating against the clock. This year though, South Koreans have a reason to be glued to their screens for more than a few minutes every event. With figure skating star Kim Yuna on a roll after winning the 2009 Grand Prix, Four Continents, and World Championships, the pressures on her to capture the gold at the 2010 Vancouver Olympics as well. She's certainly a favorite for the gold, but Yuna has made several mistakes in her programs this season. Long-time rival Mao Asada (Japan) will be a formidable foe in this time around; she's the only skater to have ever beaten Kim Yuna in a competition. But although Asada is arguably speedier, than Yuna's, specifically with spins, she does not have the artistic style of fire of the world champion. Yuna glides across the ice with both elegance and power, a combination that has won her several world records in 2009. Her jumps have consistently been landed with a high degree of execution, and the slight margin in speed cannot compete with Yuna's signature camel spin. Korea's hopes on their first ever medal in figure skating lies on the shoulders of a 19 year old girl, but if the records of the past season stand, Yuna will certainly grab the gold.
Journal #12 (2/26/10)
Write an eight sentence paragraph on a topic of your choice. Make sure that you vary the length of each sentence.
My computer crashed today. More specifically, my iMovie has decided to go all wacko and won't show me the project that is due today. On any other day I'd be okay with it and think, "Oh well, I'll guess I'll just have to do it again during the weekend," but that isn't the case this time. I spent a lot, and I mean A LOT of time on the iMovie, but all of a sudden when I opened the application this morning, it was gone. GONE; as in not there, disappeared, missing, absent, nothing there, zippo. I found it in the iMovie folder though, the project shows up there clear as day, but some unknown hand in the universe has erased the actual video from my computer. Fate, why did you have to show up on my doorstep TODAY of all days? It's like waking up to find the car you bought with hard earned money missing from your driveway, gone with the ticket to eighth grade success and Everland. Hopefully it's just a quick malfunction and everything will work again... Hopefully.
Journal #13 (3/2/10)
What kind of cartoon show might appeal to the over-age 65 audience? Imagine the show. Then, in 100 words or less, describe the show and its main character.
The cartoon for over an over 65 audience would be titled "Hey, Well in MY Day..." The main character is an old grandparent named Billy who loves telling stories to his grandchildren, Lucy and Dave, about his life "back in the ol' days." Every time Lucy and Dave complain about something or show off some newfangled invention (i.e. an ipod, laptop, Nintendo DS) Billy sits them up on each of his legs, rocks in his old mahogany rocking chair, and starts a story with, "Well, in MY day..."
Journal #14 (3/4/10)
Electricity is a recent discovery. Think of 12 things to do when there is no power.
Have a snowball fight in the white snow
Verbally talk with my friends
Write with a pencil
Take the dog out for a walk on a sunny day
Go bicycling alongside the river
Go to the park
Play an instrument
Play with my little brother :)
Cook!
Read my favorite book over and over again
Sit by the cozy fire and roast marshmallows.
Sleep ^^
Journal #15 (3/6/10)
See Journal 11.5. Done during the week the poets were here.
Journal #16 (3/8/10)
Write a rhyme paragraph. Each sentence must begin and end with words that rhyme with each other.
Summer is never a bummer. School is out and fun will rule. Everyday we laugh and play. Outdoors, we go camping and sleep underneath the stars, playing games and roasting smores. Sometimes we laze around inside, sleeping in until 12 o' 5. Then autumn comes, and school looms once again. We have to pack our bags and regretfully turn off the TV. Time to finish this paragraph rhyme.
Journal #17 (3/10/10)
Describe a person in detail who leaves no stone unturned.
The frazzled girl pulled on her long frizzy hair. "I've looked everywhere!" she exclaimed, pacing around, "Where is it!?" Searching through her room for the hundredth time, Alicia hunted for her hair scrunchie under pillows, her bedcovers, the stuffed animals, the bed, in the closet, her bookshelf, even inside her music box. It wasn't even her favorite scrunchie that was missing, but she was still bugged about not being able to find it. Nothing, and she meant NOTHING, of hers had ever disappeared before; Alicia had always found the missing hairpin or shoe somewhere. But not with this scrunchie, this time it was gone. Pulling on her hair in frustration, Alicia found something tangled in her ponytail. Well what did you know, it was her missing scrunchie.
Journal #18 (3/11/10)
Write a 150 profile os someone named "Margaret Mallory" or one of the characters for your short story.
Apollo is, as his sister Athena would describe him, a self-pompous brat. This sun god is very vain (but has the looks to back it up) and loves showing off on his lyre or sun chariot. He has quite a fan club of nymphs and minor gods in Olympu, although that seems to have gotten to his head a bit. He tries to speak with wit, like his sister, but instead just manages to sound foolish and ignorant most of the time. Apollo is always trying to prove that he's the better twin to his father, Zeus, because all the gods know that Zeus likes Athena much better than Apollo. Therefore, he always tries to one-up his sister, playing pranks on her and spoiling her plans. He isn't however, that bright, and Athena always ends up being one step ahead of Apollo, leading him to sometimes be moody and sulky.
Journal #19 (3/16/10)
List 10 things you usually do on a rainy day. Pick one from your list and free write for 5 minutes.
Read a new book
Sleep in
Practice piano
Lie on my bed and listen to music on my ipod.
vChat with a friend
Open the window and listen to the pitter patter of rain.
Look in the fridge for something cool and refreshing to eat.
Just loiter around
#6) I used to do this when I lived in Indiana, where there weren't many cars and you actually woke in the morning to the chirps of birds. The roof hung over my window, so even if I opened it during a rain shower, the water didn't enter my room. Instead just the cool misty air slid in through the flyscreen, smelling fresh of wet grass and rain. There was a specific smell of rain, although you can't really tell with the acid-rain in Korea. It was cool and fresh, distinctive; I could always tell when there was going to be a rain shower soon by the scent in the air. Watching the raindrops pitter patter on the parking lot pavement and into puddles was sort of hypnotizing, if I was listening to music at the same time, an hour could pass without noticing it.
Journal #20 (3/18/10)
Free-write for 3 minutes on this cliche "ice running through her veins."
Maylene stared at her friend Sally, who'd she'd caught talking behind her back. The tension was palpable as the two girls glared at each other. Sally was the first one to turn away, the fury in Maylene's eyes were frightening, and even more so that cool iciness glazed over her face.
Journal #21 (3/19/10)
Free-write - Pi, pie, and pie in Ms. Lee's face!
3.141592653589793233383279502884197169399375105820974944592307816406286208998628034825342117hit 706798214808651328230664709384460955058223172535940812848111... and then 7 not 0 you dummie! I was hitting myself for making such a stupid mistake once I sat back down on the bleachers, it'd stopped me from reciting the actual 250 digits of pi that I had memorized. But all the regret flew out of my mind a few minutes later when I threw, or actually held in place for 5 seconds while smooshing it in more, a whip-cream pie at Ms. Lee's face. I was immediately sorry afterward, as Ms. Lee wasn't even my math teacher and I'd fallen to the peer pressure of all the eighth graders wanting to moosh Ms. Lee's face (and hair) with whip cream, but the fun was good while it lasted. Smooshing a pie in a teacher's face is actually quite satisfying. Years of resentment toward teachers who gave too much homework or gave us unfair 0's or put us in groups with our worst enemy, were put into that mooshing of Ms. Lee's face. My shoulders felt as if a huge burden, or rather annoyance, had been lifted off. All the work and stress memorizing paid off the moment I splatted whip cream over Ms. Lee's face and saw a whip cream face mask on her. Sorry Ms. Lee, nothing personal :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D
Journal #22 (3/29/10)
Blurp! Slosh! Snort! Write a paragraph incorporating at least ten onomatopoetic words. Onomatopoetic words are words that sound like what they mean.
I picked up a small, flat stone and weighed it in my hand. Perfect; just the right size for the skipping stone competition I was having with my cousins today. Shouting "ready!" I headed back to the bank and lined up next to my three older cousins. The eldest, Billy, threw his first, it splashed thrice across the water with a splish, splick, and finally drowned with a splat. Then my younger cousin threw. In his defense, it was his first time stone skipping, but he did look pretty pathetic when his stone dropped with a big PLOP into the water not a meter away from where we stood. Then I threw; taking a deep breath, I pulled back my throwing arm and then woosh! My stone skipped flat out across the water, and with each bounce I held my breath, willing it to skip just one more time. Plink, plonk, plish, and after the ninth skip, pulunk, it hit a water reed and stopped. YEAH! WOOHOO! AH-HUH! AM I THE BEST STONE-SKIPPER OR WHAT?! IN YOUR FACE BILLY.
Journal #23 (3/30/10)
People often say, "If we can send a man to the moon, surely we can figure out how to..." Complete the sentence five different ways.
Build schools in Korea with at maximum two floors and a basement.
Produce a decent cough drop.
Release movies in a timely manner worldwide, not in March for the U.S. and August for Korea.
Make unbreakable mechanical pencil lead.
Connect my macbook to the home printer.
Really, please, I'm begging you smart doctors of the world, come up with a cure for the common cold.
Journal #25 (4/7/10)
Reflect on the process of writing a short story. What did you enjoy about it? What was difficult? How would you approach it differently if you did it again?
The most difficult part about writing a short story, for me, was keeping it short. In my spare time I like thinking and planning out stories in my head, and with my favorite ideas I write them out and post them on the internet. When I'm writing my own stories like that, often long chapters are favored over short ones, and drawing out suspense is a key strategy in attaining and keeping more readers. When I sat down to write my short story, I had a "perfect" story pictured in my head, but it was hard to write it all down in eight or less pages. If I was given the chance to do this again, I would plan my plot out much more specifically. The introduction and rising action are supposed to be 3/5 of the story, then the climax, and then the falling action and resolution take up the remaining 2/5. I should have thought that all out before just beginning to write, because in the end, adding more descriptions is much easier than adding details while also shortening the story. On the other hand, what I enjoyed about this process was how we got to read our stories out loud and receive feedback from our classmates. Reviews from random internet people are all good, but it's helpful to know what my classmates think.
Journal #26 (4/9/10)
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.
Kim Yuna - I think that Kim Yuna would have a small, delicate looking yet energetic dog. Perhaps a Chinese Crested Powderpuff? Powderpuffs are generally very quiet but alert, just like Yuna is. They are also well mannered and sensible, as well as cuddly and loving to follow their owner around. It could watch Yuna practice all day, and then cuddle up with her afterward!
Barack Obama - Obama, I think, would have a Golden Retriever. Golden Retrievers are very intelligent, and are trademarked for their kind and slow-to-anger personality. A president like Obama needs a calm dog, one that will be fair and amiable to everyone.
Lady Gaga - Hahahahaha, the first dog I thought of for Lady Gaga was a Chihuahua. Chihuahuas are small, but they are also very ferocious and outspoken. A small, quirky Chihuahua would be the perfect companion for Lady Gaga, perhaps even an accessory for her next stage costume.
Yoo Jaesuk - The nation's MC... hmmm... I think that he should have a Beagle. Beagles have a low intelligence rate, just like Yoo Jaesuk has a low IQ, but they are also both quirky and curious. A popular MC needs a popular, outgoing, attention-loving dog, so a Beagle is best for him.
George Washington - The first president of the United States, I think, should have had a German Shephard. German Shephards are extremely loyal and protective, so one would have been a good companion for Washington.
Journal #27 (4/11/10)
Write a four-line song or poem about mayonnaise.
Squeezy, gooey, creamy mayonnaise,
Tangy, sweet and sour mayonnaise,
Herby, lemony, spice-filled mayonnaise,
Mayonnaise, mayonnaise, mayonnaise, mayonnaise!
Journal #28 (4/13/10)
Free-Write - Karma
I think that karma really does get to you, sometimes sooner rather than later. Take the largest sweet potato and give your little brother the small one, and you'll find out that yours hasn't been cooked all the way through while his is nice and golden. Get out of a job you promised to do, turns out it was really fun. And here I thought that karma was supposed to get to you in a couple of years, or even in your next life. Plus, karma was supposed to reward the good deeds we did too. My personal experiences with karma have found that it only appears quickly after bad deeds. Still, there were a couple of times when the good ones came around to hit me instead of the bad. Once, I resolved not to spend any more money, but then my parents gave me more! ...wait, was that good or bad?
Journal #29 (4/15/10)
Write about a moment when you and another person (sibling, friend, parent, etc.) bonded.
My little brother and I bonded a lot when we visited my grandparents' house for Chusok a few years back. There were so many other little kids at the house, all playing with newfangled toys or acting cute to my aunts and uncles, that I sort of got protective over my little brother. I paid more attention to him (a lot more) than I usually did, and I nonchalantly passed off the other kids' attempts at being cute. It was a sort of family pride moment, I think, which made me act that way. Looking back on it, it was silly, but also worth it. I spent a lot of time with my little brother that week, and soon, instead of just caring for him for his sake, I began to enjoy spending time with him.
Journal #30 (4/16/10)
Free-Write - The Un-Joys of Being Sick
When I missed out of school this week, a lot of my friends said that they wished they were sick too, just so they could skip class. I couldn't convince them otherwise. I myself would rather be healthy and at school than stuck at home with a stuffy nose and sore throat. Once I get better, I'll most likely forget just how horrible it was to have the flu, and lament the days when I could stay in bed all day, but right now I'm writing it down for the record, being sick is just positively annoying. I can't go anywhere without a box of tissues, and can't talk without coughing up a storm. Seriously, if I had woken up perfectly healthy this morning, I would have happily gone to take my science test.
Journal #31 (4/20/10)
Write in the voice of a rope about to snap. At least one paragraph 5-8 sentences.
Oh no, I can feel it, it's gonna be baaaaad news for me when that eagle plonks down on the bridge I'm holding up. Dude, I mean, with all that flapping around, you'd think eagles would weigh a lot less. But nooooooooo, baldy has to choose my poor ropes as a resting place, his only choice amongst thousands of rock tops and scruffy branches. PLUNK. He's on now, yup, and I can feel my ropes stretching by the second. But it does feel good to stretch for the first time in a couple decades. Yup, oh yeah, now move a little to the left, yeahhhh, oh wait, not that much left! No! That's my weak spot, I've always hated that twist, it's my complex dude, no! I'M FRAYING I'M FRAAAAYINGGGG! Fly away baldy, dude, FLY AWAY! Dude, I'm going to snap and fall to my doom if you don't get off, have a little compassion here, not everyone has big huge wings, not to mention sharp claws. Eeeeek, I'm going down any second now. Hold on little rope strandies, hold on! All those years I've spent caring for you, now show a little gratitude and hold on! Oh whew, baldy's flown off.... and come back with a friend. No, no, no! Don't come down here! PLONK. Yup... going down. Farewell sweet blue sky, farewell playful wind, farewell twinkling stars, fareweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell-
Journal #32 (4/20/10)
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 new about yourself and how you work in groups during this project?
This project, for me, was definitely one of the easier ones. There were two reasons, 1) I was absent the day of filming, and 2) there was another responsible team member in the group. I'm not really a fan of group projects, mainly because I always end up doing all the work. I can't put all the blame on others, I suppose, because its basically me that's loading up on more work, but I only do it because I have a hard time trusting others and believing that they'll do the job WELL. This time, the load was very much lightened, and even though I did do all the editing, it was made much easier because all the footage was actually there. And I wasn't annoyed about being stuck with all the editing because I do like using iMovie (and do it well). I think I contributed and did my fair share of the work, except this time the share was actually divided up fairly :). This project pretty much confirmed what I knew about myself already, that I can take responsibility and show up with the work done well and on time.
Journal #33 (4/22/10)
Pick a character from a day time soap opera. Put him or her in a stranded commuter train. Write about what he or she is feeling or thinking at the moment.
I staggered onto the subway car seat at last, clutching my stomach and trying to catch my breath. The baby! The baby's coming any minute! AUGH! I screamed in pain, drawing the attention of people around me. What had I been thinking, to come on a subway 9 months pregnant, without even Larry to help me? But then, Larry would have doubtfully agreed to ride the subway with me today, even if I'd asked him. But God, I promise to you. If you let my baby be born safely in a hospital, I'll stop all my scheming and lying. I promise, I'll be the most moral human being in Beverly Hills if you keep my baby safe and healthy. I'll stop cheating on Larry, I'll stop breaking up my friends' marriages, I'll even stop bugging my older sister to get a job. Please, please, please, AUGH!
Journal #34 (4/26/10)
You can tell a lot about a person by what he or she says. Here are some things Grandma Dorothy always says:
"You can never be too dressed up."
"A woman should never ask a man to dance."
"He is quite a snappy dresser."
Based on these sentences, imagine what kind of person Grandma Dorothy is. Write a paragraph describing her. Feel free to use any or all of her quotations.
My Grandma Dorothy was born a long time ago, in like the 1800's I think, or maybe even older. Anyways, she's quite old-fashioned as a result of it, and strict too! She has all these rules about how we kids should act, and is always reciting phrases like, "You can never be too dressed up." Grandma Dorothy sticks to those rules all the time, and I do mean all the time. If I put on a tank top and go to the door, she's always hustling and bustling toward me, trying to force a jacket on me even if its the middle of summer. And she has all these other old-fashioned quirks, like, how "A woman should never ask a man to dance." It's the 21st century for heaven's sake, you'd think she could be a bit more modern. Did you know that she asked to chaperone our school dance? It was so embarrassing; she came to school in the middle of the day with her flower patterned skirt and shawl, and actually came up to me to pinch my cheek and ask if I had an extra jacket in my locker! Then she proceeded to look at my history teacher and say, "He is quite the snappy dresser." I mean, has she no self-dignity? Not only did she say snappy, but she also sort of basically checked out my history teacher. He's like, 20 years younger than her! I love my Grandma and all, but sometimes she's just too much for me to bare, especially in public.
Journal #35 (4/28/10)
Write from the point of view of a freshly scrubbed floor.
Ahhh, it's cleaning day again. A day of cool water and soapy bubbles instead of the steady stomp and tromp of rushing pedestrians. Really, after all we do for them, you'd think people would be a little more considerate of us. After all, without us floors, they'd be walking on dirt, and how do you think their shiny shoes would look covered in mud? But no surry, humans are much too busy to even mutter a quick thank you to the savior of their glossy shoes. But may I ask, what about my glossiness? Do I not look beautiful right now, sparkling and glittering in the fluorescent lights from above. Sadly though, exactly when the clock strikes eleven and all the shoppers are allowed into the mall for the day, my glory will steadily begin to fade. By the end of the day, I'll once again be full of dust and dirt, waiting for next week's cleaning day.
Journal #36 (4/29/10)
Is there a cause you care about a lot? How far would you go to stand up for what you believe?
One cause I care about a lot is how to save the earth from humans and global warming. I love reading stories about times before the industrial revolution in America, when there was much less pollution and people actually knew the name of the tree outside their house. Even though I wish we could go backwards into that time, I know that's impossible, so instead I support going even further into the future. I want to grow up, attend a respected college, and become an environmental scientist/engineer, and invent/improve environmentally friendly products, energy sources, and resources. I don't think I'd be the type to go out on the streets and protest, but rather write a formal, well supported petition. In the end, I suppose, it all comes down to that I'm not willing to put myself in bodily danger for the cause, but I'm willing to help in other ways. Being young now, I don't have much power or influence, and even if I did go walking around raving about global warming like a fanatic, the most I would probably achieve is to be expelled from school; but once I grow up and get a college degree, then, I'd be doing everything I could.
Journal #37 (5/3/10)
Write about a time you hid from someone, or a time you disguised who you really were.
One summer a couple of years ago, I went to a summer camp for kids ages 11-18. There actually weren't that many kids there, perhaps a little under two dozen or so. Anyway, the counselors divided us into cabins according to our ages. Since I just happened to be the only 11-year old there, I was grouped in with the 12-year olds. I wasn't that concerned about it at first, but when night came and we all sat down on the cabin floor to talk and introduce ourselves, I might have sort of kind of lied and said I was 12 years old. It wasn't that much of a stretch, technically in Korean age I was already twelve; and the only reason I said I was 12 was because I didn't want to be the loner 11-year old among a camp of big, tall, teenagers.
Journal #38 (5/5/10)
Recall an uplifting experience and write about it.
There was an internet experience I had that was uplifting for me, and I'm sure that many fellow fanfiction-eers can relate to my story. It was a long weekend, and after finishing my homework, I now had free time to do whatever I wanted. Being the tech-savvy Macbook addicted teenager I was, I immediately logged onto my computer and checked my email, my facebook, my twitter, and various other sites. Then just like any other day, I entered my fanfiction account to see if how my stories were doing. I had three stories uploaded then, two were in a series, and the third was in an entirely different genre. The first two had a respectable amount of followers and had been favorited numerous times, something I was quite proud of but had only made me more ambitious and greedy for internet fame. They were typical teenage stories, about a boy and girl, and also happened to include a band, fame, and many other things bored teenage girls like reading about. My third story though, stepped into the new genre of fantasy, something I thought would had a completely different fanbase than my other stories. When I checked for how much traffic my new story had received overnight, I wasn't really expecting anything. There was only one chapter up, nothing much had really happened in the story yet, and I was even using a never-before-seen original character as the main protagonist. But much to my surprise (and utter glee), the story already had ten reviews and over 50 hits. Now at a first glance that might not seem like that much, but I was overjoyed. That meant the people who signed up for my "author alert" list actually read my new story, even though it was completely different. Over time those numbers grew, and so did the hits on my other new stories. Looking back at it all, I'm still amazed at how many followers I've got. It's still very, very, small compared to other people, but it's uplifting and satisfying to know that somewhere out in the world, there's people who check their email and smile when they see an alert for a new chapter posted up on my story. :)
Journal #39 (5/7/10)
Free-Write - Corruption on the Small Scale
In reality, I think it is very hard to be an uncorrupt, completely moral person. If you are, then you're a saint and should be living up in the sky. Most people are corrupt at some point in their lives, after all, if you're not caught, corruption can lead to great (but material) rewards. Maybe you tricked your parents into giving you more allowance money, or lied and said your great-aunt died just in order to get an extension on the due date of an essay. The important thing is not being caught, right?
Perhaps, but corruption can also affect you in other ways than personal gain or moral deterioration. When you're corrupt, then you begin to think the entire world around you is corrupt as well, and is conspiring against you to take all your money (or cookies). You become suspicious, untrusting, and eventually turn into a crabby, stingy, person that no one wants to have as company. For example, my acceptance letter to a different school came just a day after my parents paid my tuition for KIS. Coincidence? I think not! I've used that same trick to steal my little brothers snacks (it's quite simple really; just tell him that there's no milk to eat the Oreos with, therefore it's useless to eat them and should give them to me, and then give him the milk after finishing the Oreos). Of course, it's very unlikely that that KIS and SIS are in cahoots to steal money from people, but it certainly is possible. Why, it's elementary, dear Watson!
Journal #40 (5/10/10)
Take two people who dislike each other and put them in the backseat of a cab.
I huffed and crossed my arms, turning myself as far away from Sally as I could. I hated her, like really, really hated her, but worst of all, by the end of the day, she and I would be stepsisters. On the opposite side of the cab, Sally crossed her legs, rustling the gossamery layers of her bridesmaids' dress. Even though I loathed Sally and would do so for the rest of my life, I secretly seethed in jealousy over her golden hair, her perfect rose complexion, each dainty painted nail on her ten slim fingers. It really is quite discouraging, sitting next to America's Next Top Teenage Model while driving to your parents' second wedding. But I knew was better than Sally in more ways than one, I was smarter, had a 4.0 G.P.A, had some common sense, and didn't think that having a step sister meant that you were going to be like Cinderella. And so she and I rode in silence, both wishing that we hadn't been so stupid as to be late to drive to the wedding with our own parents, separately.
Journal #41 (5/11/10)
List 10-15 things worth saving and then choose one to write about.
Memories
Time
Friends
Money
Pictures
Family
Cellphone
Health
Antiques passed down in your family for generations *
Earth's resources
When I was a little girl, I always used to watch the television show, "Antique Roadshow," with my mom and dad. It was interesting to see what objects were worth thousands of dollars, and what objects were worth nothing but a few pennies. There was a wooden music box that my grandparents had bought for me, and I was determined to keep it until I was 60 years old, and then show it at an Antique Roadshow. I was so confident about how it was going to be worth a "million" dollars, and be a "priceless treasure" stored in the Louvre Museum. Now I laugh about how naive I was. You know why? If you turn the music box over, you'll see the words "MADE IN CHINA."
Journal #42 (5/11/10)
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 words.
A long time ago in a faraway land, there dwelled a large family of dwarves. They lived in a large, spacious house, but it was only just big enough for all of their family to live in. Every Sunday after church, the large dwarf family all sat down at the dining room table to eat supper. It was a rowdy, but joyous time, and none of the dwarves ever thought of leaving their wonderful home. Slowly though, the dwarf family dwindled down in numbers. Old Grandpa Sleepy died peacefully in his sleep (he slept so much anyway though, no one noticed he was dead for a long time). Uncle Bashful went off to see the world, and several of the elder brothers went off to marry dwarf wives. Soon their large house felt empty, and there were no more big family dinners. The mother, the only dwarf left living in the house, sometimes crept up into her lonely room to cry of loneliness.
Journal #43 (5/11/10)
"Yipes," said the zebra. "I've lost my stripes." Continue the paragraph, using as many words as you possibly can that rhymes with yipes.
"Yipes," said the zebra, "I've lost my stripes. WAAAAAAAAAH!"
"Dude, what's up with all the hype?" asked Marley the Monkey. "Did you really lose your zebra stripes?"
"Yes," replied the zebra. "I was sleeping, and at night a baboon swiped my stripes!"
"How unfortunate," said Marley, "But it's no use to gripe. Smile, now you're a zebra of a whole new type!"
"You are right!" exclaimed the zebra. "It's something to celebrate! Come, the fruit is ripe, and I've bought a new pipe. Let us dance into the night!"
Journal #44 (5/11/10)
List 12 things you can buy with your last W20,000
A box of instant ramen
A new, shiny, hardcover book
Batteries for the electronic devices I soon won't have electricity for anymore
1 medium sized box of chicken :)
A pair of really cheap shoes from an online shopping mall
2 movie tickets
Five lunches from the cafeteria Western menu
1 deluxe packaged CD from my favorite artist
Lots of candy
6 cheapo hairbands they sell on the street
Stationary
10 round trips on the subway
Journal #45 (5/2/10)
Free- Write: Time
You never seem to have enough time to do what you want, or more specifically, there's never the right time to do what you want, when you want. The world is cruel, school is cruel, and my brain's want for things at certain times is also cruel. For example, whenever I have a lot of homework for school due the very next day, my mouse always gets drawn to the little folder on my desktop that says "stories." It seems that whenever I'm NOT supposed to write, the creative juices in my brain flow, and since those juices only really come about once a week, I can never draw myself into letting them go to waste. The same thing happens at night, when I'm supposed to be sleeping. However, when I actually do have time to write, such as one a weekend, or when I'm supposed to write, like for our creative writing final, my fingers seem to have such a hard time finding the write words to type. My brain just goes blank................................................................................................. see, went blank right there, and......................................................... uh, oh, and even if I manage to get a few sentences down, the ideas never flow quite right from my brain to my computer. And what's even worse than that are food cravings. You want pizza one day, but your parents say no. Then five days later they ask if you want pizza since you asked for it before, but now you're not craving pizza and you don't really want to eat it! :(
Journal #46 (5/24/10)
Reflect on your digital storytelling project.
Having found it hard to stick to the restrictions in my short story, I thought I would have the same problems with my digital storytelling project as well. However, I found it relatively easy to use only 12 pictures in two minutes to tell my story. Part of that, I think, had to do with planning and having a well-completed storyboard, and the other part was how my story was manageable. In this way, I learned that when given a project with restrictions or lots of directions, it is much more helpful to stay organized and plan my way through each step one at a time.
I also enjoyed watching other people's digital stories in class today. Many students had baby photos of themselves, and its always fun to awww at a friend's baby photos. In terms of pace though, several of the slideshows went rather fast. I think because I had such a firm structure and storyboard, I was able to keep a good pace throughout the entire show, and didn't have to rush at the end.
Journal #47 (5/26/10)
Use all of the following words in a story: plastic bottle, baseball, dirty handkerchief, crumpled note, unhinged door.
Hallie stood at the end of the lane, looking up at the huge haunted house looming above her. She should have never agreed to her big brother's dare, now she had to go into that big creepy house all by herself. Stepping up the front steps and through the unhinged door, Hallie quietly entered the house. Wind was whistling through the broken windows, making an eery sound. The place certainly looked like it had a mysterious past; legend was that one day, the family living in it had suddenly disappeared, just like that. Hallie looked around the living room, searching for the baseball her brothers had hit into the house while playing in their nearby yard nearly a year ago. On the table were the remnants of the missing family's last meal. An old plastic bottle that still had the faded Coke logo glued on it, complete with silverware and a dirty handkerchief. Breathing heavily, Hallie crept upstairs into the room her brothers had pointed out to her. There it was! On top of a pile of crumpled notes on the desk was her brothers' baseball! Hahahahaha, now let's get out.
Journal #48 (5/28/10)
Do you agree that if you give respect, you get it? Explain.
I believe that the statement above only applies to the people who deserve respect. You can give respect to a self-pompous, vulgar brat all you want, but most likely they will take advantage of you and boss you around, never mind return your respect. However, with even half-decent people, if you give respect, sooner or later they will give you respect back. To most people, people who know how to respect are the people worth respecting. If you speak condescendingly, that will garner more disdain than respect. But if you are respectful, polite, and well-spoken, then people will see that you are an educated and highly civilized being, bringing more respect than if you were are brat.
Journal #49 (6/1/10)
Write about a task, job, or chore you dislike.
Hmmmmmm, a task, job, or chore that I dislike. Well that's super easy, it's homework. I really don't like doing homework. It's something that looms over my like an icky, gewey, cloud ever day after I come home from school, and it never goes away until I work hard to move it. Sometimes homework is easy, like math homework, and sometime's it's hard, like a science project. But most the times, no matter the difficulty level, I just don't want to do it. That happens a lot if I'm super-bored. Especially on Saturdays, I'd laze around all day, playing games until even that made me bored, but still not doing my homework because it was just that, homework. I think for me and a lot of students, homework just has a very bad connotation. It's something that no one wants to do but everybody has to do, something that whether in large or small amounts, is the annoying presence of school in each and every day of our lives. Thankfully, summer break is coming soon, which means no more school! On the other hand... hello hagwon homework.
Journal #50 (6/2/10)
Write about someone you would love to see put in jail.
Someone I would love to see put in jail is not exactly one specific person, but rather a group of people. The heads of BP, i.e. British Petroleum. Weeks ago a gigantic oil leak sprung in the Gulf of Mexico, endangering the highly fragile ecosystem in the marshes of that area. Now, they have failed several times to stop the leak, and every single day it is spilling hundreds of more liters of oil into the Gulf. The people over in BP seem to not understand the severity of the leak, which has been named as the largest environmental disaster of U.S. history. Local civilians and politicians have been pushing for sand dredges to be built to protect the marshes, yet they are severely lacking in funding for the vital project. Funding BP is morally obliged to pay. I thought only Americans were fond of the "as long as it's not in my backyard" policy, but I guess BP is sticking to that motto too. They've released a statement that the spill is impossible to close until August, during which crude will continue to spread into the Gulf at a rate 20% faster than when it first started. I'd love to see those irresponsible BP dudes put in jail, especially if that verdict was accompanied by a 1 billion dollar fine for funding.
Journal #51 (6/4/10)
Reflect on your final project. Why did you choose it and what do you think you learned from the process of creating it?
My final project for creative writing, I think, went pretty well. I chose to do another short story as my final, but I chose an entirely different style this time. I chose to do a short story because I felt that the last time I tried one, I didn't finish it to my fullest potential. I wanted to have spent more time on it, and I wasn't completely happy with the final product. That's why when the chance came to try again, I grabbed at it. This time I chose a simpler topic, a plot that focused on one character and not too many. I had a lot more fun writing the story this time, this time able to focus on the plot instead of the length. In the end, I think that's what's most important about creative writing assignments, you have to have fun and be imaginative, not concerned with the little details.
Compare and Contrast:Both pictures are those of flora and nature, but picture #1 is black and white while picture #2 is full of color. Therefore picture #2 feels more vibrant, fresh, and alive, while picture #1 gives you a sense of peace and calm. Picture #1 also feels like it was taken in the aftermath of a storm, when the sun dawned on the new day and glowed on the dewy drops.
Close-up: The jasmine flowers have white petals with sunflower yellow centers. The edges of the petals are a pure white, but the center lines are tinted with purple. The petals look soft yet stiff at the same time, like organza fabric. The petal shape is that of a pointed oval, while the center stamen is shaped like an egg, and looks very much like chamae (korean melon). The flowers don't look as if they have a very heavy scent, but rather a light, fresher fragrance.
Socrates: "Man's life is like a drop of dew on a leaf." By those words, I think Socrates meant that each individual human's life is short lived and insignificant in the immense and endless cycle of life. Each generation of dew seems pretty and special in the morning where it forms, but soon it fades and disappears. Then the next dawn its replaced by new dewy drops of water, and so on and so on.
Write What You See #2 (2/3/10)
Imagine that you're an onion about to be sliced onto a hamburger.
The sound of potatoes sizzling in the skillet, meat being grilled on the stove, bread popping out of the toaster, those are all familiar sounds in the MacDonald's kitchen. I listen to them all from the comfort of a woven basket in the storage room, nestled among all my other onion friends. Suddenly I hear footsteps coming inside the storage room, and before I know it I'm being carried away from my friends and am dunked in ice cold water. The person rubs me harshly for a few seconds before placing me on a cutting board. I manage to squeeze one frozen eye open enough to see a man in a strange white hat looming over me. That must be that chef I've heard so many rumors about. Of course, those rumors were very vague, for most of the veggies who'd seen the chef hadn't come back without some sort of appendage cut off. I began to shiver again, this time not in cold, but in fear. The chef peeled off my outer layer of skin and laid me back on the cutting board, then he raises a sharp silver stick; was that the knife that gave the younger veggies so many nightmares? It's coming down, down, down, EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!
Write What You See #3 (2/3/10)
My Interpretation:
I think that this picture is the plastic rings that connect soft drink cans together. Shined and set in a black background, the trash looks pretty and the swirls in the plastic, almost decorative. The message trying to be conveyed by this picture could be that even though trash is sometimes always trash, some things have a beauty in the inside when the light is shown on the correct spot. This picture looks like it's been taken in a professional photography studio, and the plastic rings have been brightly cleaned and made to shine a glowing silver.
Others' Interpretation
Fiona - The picture is couch potato with sunglasses. It represents the hypocrisy of life, because the cough potato is wearing sunglasses, which relates to activeness. She thinks that it was taken by a self-timing camera with a man in a dark room with a swirling glow stick.
Sophia - The picture looks like a man saying mean things to people. She thinks the photo was taken of something, perhaps magnesium, being burned.
Eunice - The picture looks like a man with a round head who has a small pointy nose, curly hair, a smirking mouth, and best of all, HUGE sunglasses. The man looks mysterious and sneaky, and he seems like someone who is pleasant and nice on the outside but scheming on the inside. She is confused and mystified about how it was taken.
What could this picture symbolize?
Shown in the way it is above, the picture looks like a woman with big sunglasses going to the beach. The picture might be an advertisement for some sort of beach resort, showing that everyone can go to that beach and spend the day in the sun.
Describe this picture as a newly discovered animal.
Seen upside down as in the picture to the left, you can see the outline of the back view of a newly discovered animal. Called a Whirly-ghoul, this animal has the ability to levitate off the ground. The wings on its back are used to sense the surroundings and guide its movements, for a Whirly-ghoul's sight is very poor. The Whirly-ghoul is small, and can grow to about 60 centimeters. Its arms are nearly the length of its lower body, and the hands are not but round ends. Instead it uses its abnormally long and swirly pink tongue to grasp, pull, and do what ever functions it may need to do. The head is in the shape of a long oval, and two small, grey eyes sit underneath its forehead, which protrudes out from the top of the head. A Whirly-ghouls entire body is covered in soft white fur, except for its wings, which are filmy and transparent. They are solitary creatures, often found wandering around with no direction. Five Whirly-birds have been discovered so far, and all currently reside in Kelly's Imagination at 3217, Ms. Mccord's Room, Korea International School.
Table of Contents
Homework
Homework #1 (1/25/10)
Homework #2 (3/8/10)
- Memoir WordleHomework #3 (5/13/10)
Journals
Journal #1 (1/25/10)
Journal #2 (1/27/10)
Journal #3 (1/30/10)
Journal #4 (2/3/10)
Journal #5 (2/3/10)
Journal #6 (2/4/10)
Journal #7 (2/8/10)
Journal #8 (2/10/10)
Journal #9 (2/12/10)
Journal #10 (2/17/10)
- Use the following words in a story: little boy, torn page, market, cart.
"Thank you Mama!" exclaimed the little boy, eagerly accepting his first ever allowance money.Journal #11 (2/18/10)
"Just remember to use it wisely dear," replied the mother.
The boy nodded quickly before sprinting out to the door and down the road, toward the center of town. The market would start closing down soon, and he needed to get there before all the good toys sold out. The boy looked at the ten dollars in his hand and smiled, it would by many yummy snacks and fun trinkets. Reaching the marketplace, he looked around in awe. He'd been to the market with his mother before, but never alone. Everything seemed so much bigger, noisier, smellier. The boy walked toward the van that sold books. Lizzie's, his little sister, favorite picture book had a torn page, and he wanted to buy her a new one. Tugging on the coat of the man running the store, the boys said, "Sir, may I please have some comic books and a copy of My Little Pony?"
"How many do you want sonny?" asked the kindly old man, pulling out the books the boy wanted.
The boy thought for a little while, "How much are they sir?"
"Well," said the man, "Since these are used copies, I'll give you the Little Pony book and 4 comic books for $10."
"Oh thank you sir!" exclaimed the boy. Happily accepting the books from the man, the boy skipped down the road back toward his home. On the way though, his chubby eight year old arms quickly grew tired from carrying all the books, so he set them down to rest. Oh how he wished he'd thought of bringing the bright blue little cart he'd received last Christmas; with his cart, carrying all the books home would have been a piece of cake! Sighing, the boy picked the books back up and heaved them all the way home.
"Hello dear," said his mom, "Did you have fun at the market?"
The boy nodded, "Yes Mama. I got four new comic books today!"
Looking shocked, the mother reprimanded her son. "Now, you didn't spend all your allowance money today, did you?"
"Yes Mama," said the boy, "I did."
"Then why aren't you looking more ashamed of yourself?" she scolded, "I told you to spend your allowance carefully."
"But Mama!" piped up the boy, holding out the Little Pony book in his hand, "I got a book for Lizzie too!"
The mom smacked her forehead and shook her head, a smile creeping up on her face. "Okay Tommy, it's okay this time. Just remember to use your money more wisely next time." ^^
Journal #11.5 (2/21/10)
Journal #12 (2/26/10)
Journal #13 (3/2/10)
Journal #14 (3/4/10)
Journal #15 (3/6/10)
Journal #16 (3/8/10)
Journal #17 (3/10/10)
Journal #18 (3/11/10)
Journal #19 (3/16/10)
Journal #20 (3/18/10)
Journal #21 (3/19/10)
Journal #22 (3/29/10)
Journal #23 (3/30/10)
Journal #25 (4/7/10)
Journal #26 (4/9/10)
Journal #27 (4/11/10)
Journal #28 (4/13/10)
Journal #29 (4/15/10)
Journal #30 (4/16/10)
Journal #31 (4/20/10)
Journal #32 (4/20/10)
Journal #33 (4/22/10)
Journal #34 (4/26/10)
Journal #35 (4/28/10)
Journal #36 (4/29/10)
Journal #37 (5/3/10)
Journal #38 (5/5/10)
Journal #39 (5/7/10)
Journal #40 (5/10/10)
Journal #41 (5/11/10)
Journal #42 (5/11/10)
- "Yipes," said the zebra. "I've lost my stripes." Continue the paragraph, using as many words as you possibly can that rhymes with yipes.
"Yipes," said the zebra, "I've lost my stripes. WAAAAAAAAAH!"Journal #43 (5/11/10)
"Dude, what's up with all the hype?" asked Marley the Monkey. "Did you really lose your zebra stripes?"
"Yes," replied the zebra. "I was sleeping, and at night a baboon swiped my stripes!"
"How unfortunate," said Marley, "But it's no use to gripe. Smile, now you're a zebra of a whole new type!"
"You are right!" exclaimed the zebra. "It's something to celebrate! Come, the fruit is ripe, and I've bought a new pipe. Let us dance into the night!"
Journal #44 (5/11/10)
Journal #45 (5/2/10)
Journal #46 (5/24/10)
Journal #47 (5/26/10)
Journal #48 (5/28/10)
Journal #49 (6/1/10)
Journal #50 (6/2/10)
Journal #51 (6/4/10)
Classwork
Write What You See #1 (1/27/10)
Write What You See #2 (2/3/10)
Write What You See #3 (2/3/10)