control of my life and win the battle of fat for good. It was a warm Saturday morning toward the end of April when I put on my new pair of running shoes. I got into my car and drove three blocks to the gym. As I walked into the new remodeled gym I was quickly greeted by two beautiful girls that looked like they just came out of a magazine. I could not help but feel knots in my stomach of raging insecurities as they told me to take a seat and wait a moment for Boris to help get me started with my new membership
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of my favorites‚ not for the fall decorations‚ or the plethora of Football games‚ but for the food. Ah‚ the food‚ when I was a little girl‚ I used to be awakened by the smell of the savory butter that was melting atop the stove‚ as I heard the sweet onions being chopped‚ I knew it was starting; the beginning of the Thanksgiving feast. As I got up and wiped the sleep dust from my eyes‚ I anxiously ran into the kitchen shouting “Nana‚ can I help‚ please Nana?” As my grandmother looked into my sweet
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The voice of freedom finally shrieks in my ear as the sharp piercing sounds breaks the lazy silence that hovers about the classroom on a Friday afternoon. Immediately‚ as if it is feeding time at the zoo‚ scrambling kids make a mad dash for the exit‚ trying to beat the crowd of oncoming students. Time stops‚ and draws a blank in my mind for a moment. I stand up lazily‚ and my sore muscles ache with a full week’s work from this simple exercise. I grasp my black and white polka-dotted tote bag‚ its
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had an encounter with bees while I was playing in my backyard. It was a sunny day of summer where all the surroundings were warm and dry. Me and my friend where enjoying the sunbath in my backyard. The house was silent and the only noise of me and my friend was around the house. My whole family went on summer vacation and I was staying in the home alone because I didn’t like outgoing. The backyard was greenery and there were some trees planted by my grandpa for the greenery environment and for the
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feels like fine needles pricking at my eyeballs. I blink them a couple more times before hitting the snooze button on my loud horn shrieking alarm clock. As I lay my head back down to get just ten more minutes‚ a fuzzy feeling tickles my stomach. The excitement of me going home today to see my family races through my head‚ along with that‚ the slight twinge of a headache from the lack of sleep counteracts that feeling. I’m tired from packing at the last minute. My bed feels so warm and welcoming. It
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palm tree‚ and the circle of the sun. Initially‚ I was only going to poke the holes around the wave‚ but in order to give the composition more balance i did it with the other major objects as well. After outlining everything‚ I began to paint. I used my finger for a lot of the blending and I really enjoyed how easily the oil paints spread and blended
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higher plain called Christ eternal. In 1981‚ we were blessed by the melodious musical genius of a crooning singer and solo artist by the name of Luther Vandross who recorded a remake of Dionne Warwick and Burt Bacharach’s 1964 ballet "A House is not a Home." In the song singer Luther Vandross bring to life the words of the song through a poignant (poin-yuh nt) awaking of our thoughts. The words of the song most of you all know them‚ it says: A Chair is
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Drive There is a full moon. It is pitch black and raining outside. As I lookdown the street I can see the fog setting only feet away from me. It is on this evening when my curiosity gets the best of me. I want to know why my mother never allowed me to go down Cedar Crest Drive. I’ve heard many stories about a haunted house down there. The stories‚ however‚ have varied. I heard somebody had been gruesomely murdered in there. I also heard that a young man had starved himself to death. I heard
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Chinese dream and my dream “There would be no new China without the Communist Party”‚ I’ve heard of this saying since I was a little child. From then on‚ the Communist Party has left a deep and giant impression on me. China makes great progress under the leadership of the Communist Party which has always been the belief of China. I’ve been told that it would be a great honor to be a party member. So now I am a party member and the Chinese belief becomes my genuine belief. However‚ as growing up
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Home‚ My Sweet Home I don’t know the meaning of the word “ordinary”. Ordinary. Some regard mundane as dull‚ but some do not. I love uniqueness‚ but also love commonness. I believe that there is a bountiful criterion for “ordinary”. I thought my life was quotidian‚ before I faced a new life with a new family. My life was quite different with them‚ but their life was normal‚ too. After all this happened‚ I pondered about the definition of “ordinary” and the “ordinary” life. I was just an audacious
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