in 1st grade I went to Princeton Elementary in Delano where my mother worked as the vice principal. I heard that jr. high was going to be very hard and terrible and I also heard that you had more periods and that really scared me.I was concerned about being able to see my friends.My first impression of Tevis was that it was very nice and pretty. It was different because I had a lot of different teachers and I didn’t have a recess. It was different from what I expected because I thought that it
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on a shady and bitter January night‚ five of my friends and I are enjoying a pleasant hookah. Sitting in my friend’s apartment basement chitchatting about school‚ life‚ and other topics that irritates us. Imagine a room with one light bulb‚ six seats around‚ and a table. My friend’s basement reminded me of an interrogation room. None of us knew what we were in for that night. We were still at a young age where we were not supposed to be smoking hookah. What we did is what any other teenager did
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accident. I hadn’t seen my dad in months because we lived in different cities and two weeks before Christmas break when I finally was going to go visit him I had received a letter in the mail from him. I opened the letter immediately and inside‚ he wrote about how excited he was to see me and spend time together over break but it was unbeknownst to me that I would actually never see him again. Growing up I have always had great support from my family
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Blink‚ blink. I stare at Chris Matthews on the television for the first time as his words ring familiar in my head. It’s the third time I hear his words‚ because his show repeats several times in the evening news cycle. The TV has been on all day while I worked on my computer‚ but its the first time I look at his face. All day I’ve focused on my Mac screen‚ working on my projects. Mostly a design for a new mobile website for Resurrection Hospital‚ but also the daycare site‚ the moving company site
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be aloud to watch the show alright).The next day when I woke up I smelled heaven and right away I knew what it was my grandmas pancakes!I rushed out of bed and ran as fast as I could to the dining room. I was just on time because the pancakes were about to be ready. After
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For the most part I have lead an admittedly blessed life. From traveling through Europe and walking down the streets of Paris inhaling the culture like it was freshly made bread to volunteering at food banks down the Californian coast getting to see the impact my actions could have on the well-being and lives of others. Coming from the small-town life in Ellensburg‚ WA‚ I am very fortunate to have been able to branch out and see the world more than the unending view of pastures and windmills that
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Pow! Right smack in my forehead crushing my skull. The metal baseball bat knocked in my skull. It was a warm sunny day in the middle of the summer. Joey‚ my brother‚ was hitting tennis balls over my house. Little 10 year old me was playing in the yard and my brother purposely pushed me far away so he wouldn’t hit me. Oh how I was a stupid little kid. I was intrigued by what he was doing so I started wandering over to like how not knowing little kids do. As I approached my brother he was so focused
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The Drive Bam! I heard the crash as the front gate slammed behind me as I it shut behind me. I sprinted back to the car and my mom told me‚”Only five more minutes Blake.” Me‚ my parents‚ and my brother and sister were headed to our annual family reunion at my cousin’s ranch. We were on the final part of our drive‚ and this is always the favorite part of the drive. The wait is killing me. I couldn’t wait to see my family. My family is always so nice and helpful. My dad’s cousin‚ Kevin‚ is the one
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It is the morning of June 27 and what an unpleasant sight it is. The birds were out singing and chirping as usual. The sun also was painfully bright since it was summertime. I see all the townsfolk walking together and the children running to the square. All the families are hand and in hand just smiling and laughing. Do they not understand the pain of all the families that have lost someone? Do they understand what we had to go through? Or maybe they just don’t care. My mother was brutally
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My father‚ being a literature teacher‚ would come home day after day and unintentionally present me various titles that all brought an aroma of mystery. Temptation would force me to reach upon the bookshelf‚ shovel the dust off of the bookshelf‚ and attempt to read strange new words. Every title would elicit a wide range of questions that would scatter my mind‚ but‚ because I lacked the wisdom brought by experience and context‚ there were no visible answers. Therefore‚ I continued to read fruitless
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