five down, one to go!

So, this wonderful place known as college has treated me with the utmost greatness for these past five weeks. I still can’t grasp the reality of being a college student; this summer has felt like a summer camp that, once the six weeks are over, I’ll go home and go back to my high school. I don’t know, it is a weird concept to understand but it just seem like I don’t really go to Florida State. I was really surprised at how interesting and fun the classes have been and that I actually enjoyed taking them. I was proud of myself for being able to handle the challenges of completing these papers for my classes in such short time and didn’t let my social life take over. I didn’t really face too much stress so far this summer, but when I did, I was able to get through it with time and patience; stress is something you want to avoid because it is bad for your health! As far as having to feed myself, I had no problems because I had a meal plan and flex bucks so I didn’t do much cooking beside microwaveable foods of course. Laundry was a little nerve-racking the first time I did it on my own here because I was scared I wasn’t going to know how to even work the machine and look like an idiot, but thankfully there were directions on the lid. Something new that I learned about myself was that I was actually able to do my homework right away and get it out of the way; back at home I would always wait until the last minute to do all of my academic assignments. I didn’t really have to do much study during this summer session, but when I had to study for quizzes for my second class, I just did it in between classes. I think the intensity of the school work kind of lessened because here you don’t have to do pointless assignments just to take up time. On the other hand, it was a little intense because your grades were basically only four assignments, so doing well on each assignment was crucial!

Today, I feel very tired and stressed. I have a lot on my mind and I fear the lack of knowing what comes next in the near future. I barely slept last night because I had so many thoughts running through my head about a million different things that I should worry about, some things weren’t even applicable to me, but I worried about them anyway.

Now, I just feel sluggish and wish I could go back to my dorm and sleep the rest of the day away without any questions. I don’t know why I am having these random anxiety attacks lately, but it’s not like me one bit. I am usually a very upbeat and happy person and I don’t let little things affect me, but I have been a different person these past few days. Besides the negative feelings, I am very excited to be going home next week to see my family, to be able to sleep in, and to be able to go to the beach everyday!

Ideas for Paper Three

for paper three, I am considering writing a mystery in the fictional genre. There will be a helpless, vulnerable character(s) who is going to be the obvious victim(s). Also, there will be an eerie and unknown person who is causing all the commotion that is going on throughout the story. As for the conventions of this genre, the following link can help the goals and guideline for writing a fictional mystery: http://www2.scholastic.com/content/collateral_resources/pdf/r/reading_bestpractices_comprehension_genrechart.pdf. I plan to fit my form with my content by adhering to the basic guidelines for a hard-hitting, unpredictable mystery that people will be able to be intrigued and on their toes throughout the entire story.

end of week four

My process of writing, as it has always been, goes a little like this: I read the prompt topic over about three times and sit and take a second to let it soak in. Then once I get a thought about what I can write, I just jump into the writing process, usually skipping the brainstorming part. Recently, I have learned this is not such a good thing because getting your ideas out on paper, and being able to outline and organize your thoughts makes the writing part much easier and usually less time consuming.  I also tend to always use adverbs in basically every sentence to try and make my writing stronger, but through this class I have learned that they are usually unnecessary, extra words that weaken the point you are trying to get across. On the topic of revision, when I first heard that we were going to do three different drafts for just one paper I was shocked; the first draft is usually good enough and doesn’t need to be written two more times. That’s the initial thought I had in my head until I actually revised my first paper. I was still adding or making corrections all the way through the third draft and even then it still was probably not perfect. When writing, I start to get distracted and worried that my text doesn’t make any sense, isn’t good enough, and is completely off topic. I stop writing and question whether I should just start over completely or change what I’m writing about. Then in class we learned about “the watcher at the gates” and I realized that that little person in my mind was the one who was preventing me to complete my paper. It helped me out a lot to realize that tuning out and ignore the watcher was a dire thing that needed to be done in order to complete a paper. I have learned so much in these four weeks of English that I would never imagine possible!

Rest In Peace, Allison

Mrs. Allison Michelle Davis, 1993-2073, passed away peacefully in her sleep this morning at approximately 4:00 AM in Beverly Hills, California. The music industry is devastated about the loss of the renown singer, but even though she is gone from our world, her music will always be immortal. She was an intelligent, lovely woman who had so much love for her husband and three children; she would have done anything for them. Keep her family in your prayers because they, along with many across the world, suffered a great loss today. Passing onto the after life with all her amazing accomplishments and success is very inspiring to all. She will be greatly missed, but will remain and live on in our hearts forever. Her daughter, 35, says she will be holding a ceremony for all who would like to say a last farewell to the lovely, expired talent. For more information on the funeral date and time, stay posted. Rest in peace Mrs. Davis.

a way to express yourself

I would say art is considered to be a way of expressing oneself in any way, shape, or form. Art is a big part of my life because I use it daily, such as singing or dancing. I also enjoy hands on art such as painting and sculpting pottery.  In high school, I took a class for ceramics where you were given a simple wedge of clay for each project and you were expected to build a masterpiece out of it. I usually did an average Joe job for my projects and tried to make my pieces perfect, but it just never seemed to work out for me. Then my teacher told us we were going to create a mug with a design of our choosing. I thought long and hard on what I could sculpt my mug into. I looked up some designs in the sample books and online, and then one image hit me especially hard. I was going to do an awesome mug with a Hawaiian tiki face on it. When I started to roll out the clay and build my mug, I had a great feeling about the outcome of this project. I used applique to attach the big rectangle nose, eyes, eyebrows and designs on its face, carved many intricate tribal designs all over the mug, and attached the perfect handle. After every piece was put on the mug, I started to add the effect that made the clay look like old, gnarled wood. I gave my half-finished piece to my teacher so she could fire it in the kiln. I waited a few days after for it to be ready to do the next step in the process. Once out, I painted the piece with fierce, bright colors that really blended well together. Then I added shoe polish to give it that old, ancient look and BAM, my mug turned out to be a masterpiece. My teacher loved it and even put it on display for the whole school to walk past and marvel at.

writer's block

My watcher at the gate is a small, slender woman with big, black, thick-rimmed glasses who is also always dressed in an all-black business suit and holds a scorching coffee in her hands. She always has her nose up in the air because she is better than anyone else and nothing, to her, is ever good. She is very serious and harshly scrutinizes every word I write down on the page. "No. This is okay, but it is not good enough. Start over," she constantly repeats after every sentence. I take in her advice and I think to myself, "maybe this really isn't good enough..." and I erase the entire line and sit for a long time with a blank expression staring at the empty white paper. She lives in a small cubical, night and day, and makes lists of what I am doing wrong with my writing. Like I said, she lives solely on coffee; no food is required for her to survive.

what are you saying?

Mainly growing up in Coral Springs, The absurdly improper way of speaking is a hamburger on a hot dog bun; it makes no sense! The town itself is mostly upper class, yet the kids speak like they have lived in the "hood" their entire lives. The lingo they use sounds like the screeching of nails along a chalkboard; it doesn't correlate with the meaning/point they are trying to get across.

Deserted

It was a chilly Sunday morning. The strong breeze pushed the tiny grains of sand back and forth in opposing directions with little effort. The fiery-red rising sun slowly departed from the tranquil, picturesque ocean that was resting directly below it and lazily lifted itself into the sky. The swaying palm trees sang quiet songs of contentment and occasionally whistled with great force when the wind whipped their protruding green leaves. Her eyes, sore from the salt given off by the sea, were snapped open with alarm once she realized where she was. She was a city girl, twenty-two years old, and her long, chocolate-brown hair was matted and in knots. What was left of her expensive black dress was now soaking wet and clung to her tightly. She picked up her aching head from off the ground and ran her hands across the hard, sandy earth which she sat upon. Looking around, she was alone. All she had for miles was the ocean and the small island that she appeared to be stranded on. “What can I possibly do?” she spoke aloud as if someone was going to respond to her. With no solution, uncontrollable tears streamed down her dirty face and cries of helplessness quietly escaped out of her mouth. She pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face into her cupped hands as if she was making a wish to be home and safe. Then, a shock of reality hit her hard, and she knew if she was vulnerable and weak, there was no chance for her to survive on this barren island. Once gaining enough strength, she rose to her feet and began to set off on her uncharted journey. The blazing heat of the approaching afternoon was so unbearable that after dragging her fragile body for nearly half a mile, she collapsed instantly. When she finally regained consciousness, she opened her eyes to a completely different site. A dark, bamboo constructed hut with a straw roof hung over her dizzy head. In the far corner she saw a beautifully tanned man staring at her with fierce, electric green eyes. “Excuse me, um, who are you?” she obliviously asked. “I found you on the beach, nonresponsive and out-cold from dehydration” he replied informingly. She gazed at him with thankful eyes, and he looked back at her with admiration. She got up, made her way toward him and began to embrace him with all the strength she could find; she was not alone.

what is hidden in the crots?

The helpless and embarrassed young child slouches, arms hanging loosely on each side of his body with a sense of defeat. His bright teal and bold red shirt gives off an inverse impression of happiness and brightness, but inside the depths of his body lies a dark tortured soul for one reason or another. The crinkled and unkempt brown paper bag pulled tightly over his fragile head hides his despair and perception of reality in the harsh, unfair world. His widely set feet and goofy light red sneakers resemble, in a way, a clown who constantly is being laughed at for every single one of his actions. He is agonizingly ashamed and extremely embarrassed.

on my way to class...

As i walk to class at about 9:30, I have usually arrived at Landis Green. The green grass is covered with cold, wet, fresh morning dew. It is cold and uncomfortable when it touches my feet, and I try to locate the long, zig-zagging cement path lost between the towering blades of grass. Once I am able to reach the path I come upon the chlorine-smelling fountain located right in the middle of the Green. I stare longingly at the brass, tarnished statues standing in a frozen pose in the light blue water. The blazing and hot sun always makes me wish I could jump into the water and completely submerge myself to escape the unbearable heat. Then I snap back to reality and keep on dragging my heavy, tired legs across the never ending field. When I see the florescent orange plastic gate put up due to the loud construction, I am overjoyed and my pounding heart begins to finally slow. On to the next path.

The Female Writers

Anne Lamott’s “Shitty First Drafts” essay strongly stresses the importance of just getting anything down on paper no matter how stupid or drawn out it is. She also explains that writing is an ongoing process and is constantly in need of change. Although we think great writers just write their novels successfully in one day, they go through the steps just as everyone else does with little certainty or confidence. Lorrie Moore’s “How to Become a Writer” is written as more of a story line that tells you you’re allowed to be funny and seem crazy in order to write. It also makes me feel like I can relate to and imagine myself as Francie by the way she tells the story, kind of stating what you should do.  In Gail Godwin’s “The Watcher at the Gates” she says that she likes to be a “neat” writer. The concept of her essay is to find the demon inside of you that stops you when you’re writing and to compromise with it and slowly be able to block it out. Lamott and Godwin’s essays are very similar in the sense of being able to bottle up the things in your mind that distract you from reaching your ultimate goal of completing your writing. Lamott’s method is to kind of torture the voices in her head with the sound proof jar and watch them struggle to try to get to her. Godwin’s tactic leans more towards tricking the “watcher” and trying to, as Godwin says, “Outsmart, pacify or coexist” with it so you can write more successfully. They both worry about making a fool of themselves and the possibility of failure, while Moore’s essay is about being very carefree and following your instincts. Moore and Lamott’s essays are similar with their concept of just going out on a whim and letting what comes to mind that second be said or written. They both have a kind of sarcastic sense of humor in their essays that allows you to understand the feelings they have. All of the essays are very different, yet similar in their own ways, and they all speak to me. Lamott’s essay helped me to realize that writing takes time and it is important to get all of your thoughts out no matter how confusing they appear in the beginning because eventually it will all come together and make sense. Moore’s essay taught me to follow your instincts and do what you like; you’re allowed to be rebellious. Godwin’s essay gave me great tips on how to compromise with the inner critic that is standing in your way.

digital selves

Today, the internet is one of the main ways of being able to communicate, find information, and do many tasks. As a fellow online network user, i have a facebook as well as a twitter. Having a smart phone, i constantly go on and check these sites for new posts and information because all i have to do is click the app with my finger. I would say that my digital self is pretty much the same as my physical self, i always tell it like it is, on or off the internet. You don't realize how much you are connected to the internet world until you go one day without being able to check your profiles and have withdrawals...haha. Also i love to go online shopping because you are able to buy things in the comfort of your own home without having to get out of bed. Also, you don't have to worry about long lines in the fitting rooms or vicious people with on manners bumping into you. the internet is a big part of my life.

First Week Emotions at FSU!

When i first got to FSU I felt an immediate rush of freedom. I knew for the first time I would be on my own, not just for a weekend, but for six whole weeks. I was so excited and just wanted to get out there and meet a bunch of new people. when it was time for my parents to finally say goodbye after all the packing was done, reality set in. How am I going to be able to function on my own when my parents naturally did so much for me with out question. Then the tears began to flow and a sense of vulnerability ran through my entire body. I was still here, and they were seven hours away. When they left, me and my roommate went and explored the campus and were very pleased with the atmosphere. Everyone smiled and talked to you, and even waited to hold the door for you. that would never happen in my high school. Then I went out that night and had so much fun and met so many people just like me, and i realized you have to grow up at some point in time. my time was now, and I was ready.