The Big Red Bow.
Sarah Choi September 10, 2003 Professor Duff First Year Writing Seminar The Big Red Bow "Mom! Mom! I want that one, that one! The BIG red bow all the way up there! Can you get it for me please? Pleaseeeeeeeee, Mommie?" "Oh alright. But you can only get one, so choose carefully." She sighs and looks up. She tips toe and grabs the bow down for her daughter. Her daughter quickly seizes the object from her mother and carries it with both her hands, as if someone is about to steal her most precious treasure. The little eight-year old girl strolls aimlessly with her mom in the store after she gets the bow, not caring what else there is in the store or what she needs for school. Anyone can see her shiny white teeth a mile away because that's the only thing you can see on her face. The big red bow had always been my priority on my back-to-school list. It is the first thing I scouted for when I roamed into the store and the last thing I thought about before I went to bed. Every girl in my fourth grade class had at least one. Some even had different colored bows or differently styled ones but I could only get one of my choice and color. On the first day of school, I would put my red bow on top of my ponytail diligently, hoping that it would stay on all day. I was incredibly eager to show my gorgeous red bow to all my classmates. I felt like I owned the most marvelous
My Best Friend.
Kimi Kobal COMM 103 Dr. Fritz April 25, 2004 My Best Friend My mother gave me the most useful advice for the relationship between my best friend Mike, and myself. "A boy and girl can never be just best friends, because eventually they will fall for each other, maybe not on purpose, maybe not at the same time, and maybe forever." She summed up everything that would happen between us up until the forever. Mike came to my high school when we were sophomores, along with his then best friend Marcus. They transferred to my school to play football and I was instantly attracted to Marcus, so naturally I talked to Mike about it. Little did I know then what the outcome of a small crush on his friend would lead to. Although we have recently grown apart we have really been through it all and it has been the most dynamic relationship I have ever experienced. I am almost positive that we no longer have a title of friends or anything else but I know that I will always be here for him and he will always be there for me. In the beginning of our relationship my attraction to Mike was a social attraction as was his to me. He was in a new school setting and did not know anyone so he wanted to get to know people. I was physically attracted to his friend and wanted to get to know him better so I invited Mike and his friend into my circle of friends. I knew that Mike played baseball
Mini biography of my mother
Mini biography of my mother In a dark dingy hospital in the North of England, a baby was born. Her grand arrival into the world was made highly inauspicious for several reasons, the main reason being that a Caesarian section was required. This in itself was not particularly unusual, however her father couldn't be tracked down, and there was no surgeon available. Eventually a surgeon could be tracked down (dragged off the golf course), though he did complain about being dragged from his game of golf on such a nice summer's evening (he was winning). Her father being contacted presented a far larger problem. Since this was before the days of cars and telephones the police were used to find him, and when they couldn't find him the operation had to be performed without his consent. The birth itself took 72 hours and ever since my mother hasn't let anyone rush her. She was born on June 21st 1959, at a time when Marilyn Monroe was still starring in films, when sending a dog into space was thought revolutionary, when dressing to look like a teddy bear was considered fashionable. My mother speaks of these day and the following two decades will deep nostalgia for reasons I cannot begin to fathom. She speaks of it as if it was a golden age, and conveniently forgets events like the Cuban Missile Crisis, the Vietnam War, and the appalling haircuts. Her earliest memory from childhood
National ID Card
National ID Cards, a Mere Band-Aid? Published in Business Week Online on November 5, 2001, Lorraine Woellert presents an argument that National ID cards are not the answer to advancing security in the United States. In the article titled "National IDs Won't Work," Woellert begins by reasoning why people have the need for increased security. She introduces the idea of a national ID card and explains the inherent benefits of increased security but that the ID cards will in fact put the United States at a greater risk. According to Woellert, a national ID card would violate our freedoms and cost tens of billions of dollars while still being vulnerable to forgery. The author ends with what seems to be the most horrific fault of a national ID card. ID cards may "lull" the public into having an artificial feeling of security, thus creating more opportunity for terrorist attack. I agree with Woellert in that creating mandatory national ID cards generates security problems rather than increasing security. I believe that flaws such as high cost, invasion of privacy, and false sense of security, outweigh the benefits that could become of this ID. Lorraine Woellert claims that almost anyone would be able to obtain a forged national ID because technology is not advanced enough to be impenetrable. This supports her claim that an ID card would not increase security, nor protect the
Original Writing: Dystopia
Hope? He laid there, cold and confused. His long brown hair matted to the split ends that had become stiff and frozen with a white crisp layer all over. Disgraceful cloths covered his body, all one colour now but before his joyful and vivid personality shined through. Although his trainers were on, his feet touched the ground when he walked. So many years of walking on hard ground had slowly worn them away. An odious cent lingered in the small room, some from the boy and some from the feces that covered the stone floor. The room sat bare, nothing but the boy had been inside. No windows, no door just a simple abundant hole present in the room. Although the hole was so big, nothing but the boy passed through. The hole led into a tunnel that became progressively smaller, the boy did not have to struggle however he was so minutely thin now. The glacial wind swept up the tunnel, whistling as it recoiled from side to side of the aluminium metal lining the tunnel. As the boy rapidly made his way through the tunnel the air began to diminish in temperature and it became hard to breathe. As he did, the sub-zero air stung his lungs, hastily he breathed out to reduce the pain. On hands and knees, he continued his pursuit to leave the tunnel. The skin on his hands began to rip off but he was impervious to the pain. As the temperature continuously dropped, more and more skin was
This paper will chronologically outline my "becoming deviant" and break it down using a step-by-step framework of Matza's theory.
Introduction Everyone has done at least one thing in their life that they deem to be 'deviant.' I've done so many things that I think of as being 'deviant' in fact, that it was hard to choose just one activity to write about for this paper. It is important to remember however; that an activity that one person may deem to be 'deviant' may be something completely acceptable for another person. Such is the case with the event in my life that I have decided to talk about - a one-night stand (to be explained) that I had during my first month at McGill University. After looking at David Matza's theory of "becoming deviant," I realized that this situation fit the theory to a tee. This paper will chronologically outline my "becoming deviant" and break it down using a step-by-step framework of Matza's theory. A little background I moved to Montreal in August of 2002 to attend McGill University. I had no idea what to expect. It was my first time living away from home, and I had just arrived in a new city that was full of crazy people and crazy places. The first week of organized school orientation is known as Frosh Week, which includes activities (mostly parties loaded with alcohol) that are meant to help new students meet friends. Of course, I thought this was great. Finally I could have some real freedom away from my mother! Step 1: Being Willing - conceivability and the
Creative writing - The Gift.
The Gift All my life I had always wanted a friend who I could have all to myself. Someone who would always devote all of their attention to me. It wasn't until my sixth birthday that I found such a friend. I spotted him in a large metal cage in the cat room lying on his back, drooling. He grinned, as only a cat can, exposing his toothless gums and cat food breath to all as he uttered a pathetic "meow". I was immensely impressed with this orange heap of fur that rubbed against the cage and I neared the fascinating creature in an attempt to make friends. I was afraid that somehow he would sense my anxiousness about how incredibly marvellous he appeared to be even though he was obviously lacking in traditional cat beauty. Bright green eyes stared into my small blue ones and begged for a touch, just one touch, like a death row inmate wishing for letters from anyone, just anyone to pass the time. My hand neared his head which I soon found out was dirty and oily from being neglected and I gently pressed my fingers between his striped ears. Purring, he squirmed for more, rubbing his head back and forth against the cage bars and "meowing" when I would stop for even a second. He was unlike the other cats in the cat room that day, a unique face and eyes like a lion, staring me down. The other cats just played blissfully, unaware that I held the key to their freedom. This
Valerie Kats - "Love comforth like sunshine after the rain". These simple but meaningful words have been the intensity for persistence in my grandmother's life.
Valerie Kats "Love comforth like sunshine after the rain". These simple but meaningful words have been the intensity for persistence in my grandmother's life. As I sit in front of her, looking at her paper-like delicate hands holding an old photograph, tears begin to descend from her face as she begins to remember one of the most dreadful events of what one might call the most pleasant episodes in a mothers life. That event turned into a catastrophic and bitter end to an innocent man's life, that man was her son. She has told me the story before and how she survived it, but every time I hear it, it sounds like the first. Perhaps the reason for this being is the nature and the graphic imagery that invades my mind when I picture it. My grandmother was a woman who appreciated the simplest offerings of life, so when the day of her son's birthday came, she was filled with rapture. Being a woman of faith, she disregarded any minor details that were not going as planned. She thought, being the compassionate and remarkable mother that she is, she might surprise her son and meet him after work. This was only a few blocks from her house so she dressed quickly and headed there. Her heart was filled with bliss as she thought about him and how lucky he had made her feel to have him as a son. Upon arrival she noticed how the water had turned into slippery ice sheets that created the
Heroes- Francis Character analysis
Heroes-Francis Essay Francis Joseph Cassavant returned home to Frenchtown without a face. The war is over and Francis has returned home. He is glad to be home. Even in the horrible state he is in. He has eyes because he can see and eardrums because he can hear but his ears are just bits of dangling flesh. The thing that bothers Francis the most is his nose. His nostrils are caves dug into the middle of his head. He has no eyebrows and his cheeks are pieces of skin grafted from his thighs. He has been having nightmares, he is in a small alleyway automatic in his hand, and suddenly two German soldiers appear in white uniforms their rifles come up but Francis's automatic is to fast. Francis is not over the war as he has been having nightmares ever since, "the head of one of the soldier explodes like a ripe tomato and the other cries Mama as my gunfire cuts him in half, both halves tumbling to the ground." Francis wakes drenched in sweat, gasping. Francis is a mess. Francis is wearing a scarf that covers the lower part of his face. There is a Red Sox cap on the top of his head, tilted forward so that the visor keeps the upper part of his face covered. A bandage is rapped around his head covering the space where his nose was. The old army fatigue jacket covers his torso and half way down his legs. He doesn't want to be noticed. "I walk with my head down as if I have lost money
Transcript landscape of Shakyra.
INRODUCTION My client is Shakyra. She is 19 years old and is a 2nd year student reading B. Commerce at The University. She looked like a very relaxed client, dressed up casual/smart, in black trousers, a pair of heels, and a top. At the beginning she seemed to feel a bit awkward, but then when she got going she was very talkative, and in fact didn't hesitate much when presenting herself with the problem. She interrupted me very quickly at the beginning, and I left her free to talk and open up. Her voice is very strong, and this immediately made it evident to me that she is a very determined person. Although I have known the client for approximately a year, we never had the opportunity to speak much about this problem. The session is mainly based on a client who was accepted to go and study in Perugia, Italy for the duration of one semester (3/4 months). Only five students are accepted to go, and because she was accepted, she now doubts whether she should go or not go. She knows there are both advantages and disadvantages; however she can't make up her mind. The problem she presented herself with is that she is confused. Although she has a number of people who are pushing her to go, she feels they can't decide for her and that it's her decision in the end. She was very nervous about the whole problem, and her body language (non verbal communication) showed all this,