Rebecca:
Hey Rebecca! Your posts this week were great. I honestly loved both of them. "The American Dream" did something amazing for me. It made me realize how different people can interpret writing prompt, because though your post was so different from my own, completely fulfills the prompt requirements. For your second post of the week, "Condensing a Crash," I would like to first tell you that I am so very sorry that you had to go through something so traumatic. This piece was really great though. To be perfectly honest, I could picture the entire accident and by you giving readers the emotions you went through, it just helped the piece feel that much more real. Thank you for being so open and real with this one. Keep up the amazing work!
Kayla:
Hello again! Let me start off by saying that I really enjoyed your post for prompt 15 and can clearly see why it was listed in this week's "greatest hits." I loved how you made something that seems so mundane to adults suddenly important. It really took me back to being little again. You were successful in making the piece seem as dramatic as it felt to you when it actually happened by calling the little boy "devil child," "the culprit," and my favorite the "car-drawing, prison daddy's little boy." Basically, it was a great piece and I appreciated your great attention to detail. I know my opinion doesn't count, but I hope you consider this piece for your paper. Great work this week!
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Hemophobia (Prompt 15)
The sight of blood makes me squeamish. It doesn't matter who the blood belongs to or why I'm looking at it either. The last time I had blood work done I passed out, and at work a couple of weeks ago, I was nauseated at the sight of a co-worker's bloody nose. With this information it should come as no surprise that massive amounts of blood really unnerve me. Oh who am I kidding? Massive amounts freak me out. All of this is important because one particular day in my life will forever be ingrained in my mind.
It was a very sunny day in mid-August. My good friend and I were on a mini-road trip to Lake Powell. We had the air conditioning on "max" and the radio turned almost all the way up. About three hours into the drive, we entered construction. The long winding roads were deceiving and snake-like. There were moments where we didn't move at all.
The construction zone eventually ended. I was beyond hot and definitely sweaty when we actually began to reach speeds over 50 mph. I looked over at my friend (who was driving) and said, "Step on it, sister! I want to get there sometime before it gets dark! Please and thanks." We laughed, but it seemed as though everyone we had just been stuck with had the exact same idea. It wasn't long before we were traveling at 80 mph. I remember glancing out my window then, and seeing clouds moving in. I slowly put my seatbelt on.
We were about 45 minutes away from the lake. The cars in front of us all slammed on their breaks. Some swerved. I screamed and attempted to secure myself by clutching the window next to me. We were fine. We all got out of our vehicles assessing every one's well-being when we saw smoke. Three of the men from cars in front told us to stay put while they went to figure out where it was coming from. I'm not sure if I was still in shock from the near-death experience or if I simply didn't listen, but I followed them to the scene of a horrific car accident. To this day I still don't know how that minivan ended up upside down in a ditch. I pulled out my phone and dialed "911" with a couple of other people. I gave the operator as much information as possible as calmly as I could. I then hung up and watched as the men tried to find out if people were trapped inside. There were.
When the police and paramedics arrived bodies were pulled out of the van, not people. Every single passenger (there were four total) inside had died and all of their lifeless bodies were covered in blood. My friend and I watched as each was checked once more for a pulse then put in a bag and onto a stretcher. I felt sick. I ran to the opposite side of the road and vomited. My friend came to hold my hair as I sobbed and puked. There was so much blood...
It was a very sunny day in mid-August. My good friend and I were on a mini-road trip to Lake Powell. We had the air conditioning on "max" and the radio turned almost all the way up. About three hours into the drive, we entered construction. The long winding roads were deceiving and snake-like. There were moments where we didn't move at all.
The construction zone eventually ended. I was beyond hot and definitely sweaty when we actually began to reach speeds over 50 mph. I looked over at my friend (who was driving) and said, "Step on it, sister! I want to get there sometime before it gets dark! Please and thanks." We laughed, but it seemed as though everyone we had just been stuck with had the exact same idea. It wasn't long before we were traveling at 80 mph. I remember glancing out my window then, and seeing clouds moving in. I slowly put my seatbelt on.
We were about 45 minutes away from the lake. The cars in front of us all slammed on their breaks. Some swerved. I screamed and attempted to secure myself by clutching the window next to me. We were fine. We all got out of our vehicles assessing every one's well-being when we saw smoke. Three of the men from cars in front told us to stay put while they went to figure out where it was coming from. I'm not sure if I was still in shock from the near-death experience or if I simply didn't listen, but I followed them to the scene of a horrific car accident. To this day I still don't know how that minivan ended up upside down in a ditch. I pulled out my phone and dialed "911" with a couple of other people. I gave the operator as much information as possible as calmly as I could. I then hung up and watched as the men tried to find out if people were trapped inside. There were.
When the police and paramedics arrived bodies were pulled out of the van, not people. Every single passenger (there were four total) inside had died and all of their lifeless bodies were covered in blood. My friend and I watched as each was checked once more for a pulse then put in a bag and onto a stretcher. I felt sick. I ran to the opposite side of the road and vomited. My friend came to hold my hair as I sobbed and puked. There was so much blood...
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
No seconds, please! (Prompt 14)
Tuna Casserole
"Why are we here?" I always used to ask my mother. It didn't matter where we were; I felt like I always needed a legitimate excuse as to why I was where I was. My mother always answered with the same flat "because." The most common place I remember asking this question was at church for "gatherings." Though there was always food, I hardly ever ate and I never found my legitimate reason for being forced to be there. Wasn't Sunday service enough?
Green Bean Casserole
Every one of these "gatherings" seemed to revolve around food. Too bad they didn't actually revolve around good food. It seemed to me that everything those women made came in a decorative glass casserole dish with some kind of cute made-up name that was supposed to make you actually want to at the very least try it.
Chicken Pot Pie
I learned my lesson. When I was about eight years old I went to a church potluck with my mom. Going down the table full of lumpy casseroles, my plate was quickly overflowing with the oddest looking combination of so-called food. My mother made me try at least every dish on my plate. Needless to say, that was the last time I wanted to attend a church "gathering."
Jello Salad
As I got older and attended more of these unnecessary congregations I learned to only take a minimal amount of food and to try not to make contact with one of the ladies with a severing spoon standing behind the tables. Since I've moved out and on my own, I can happily say that I haven't gone to a single church "gathering" and I don't plan on going to one anytime soon.
"Why are we here?" I always used to ask my mother. It didn't matter where we were; I felt like I always needed a legitimate excuse as to why I was where I was. My mother always answered with the same flat "because." The most common place I remember asking this question was at church for "gatherings." Though there was always food, I hardly ever ate and I never found my legitimate reason for being forced to be there. Wasn't Sunday service enough?
Green Bean Casserole
Every one of these "gatherings" seemed to revolve around food. Too bad they didn't actually revolve around good food. It seemed to me that everything those women made came in a decorative glass casserole dish with some kind of cute made-up name that was supposed to make you actually want to at the very least try it.
Chicken Pot Pie
I learned my lesson. When I was about eight years old I went to a church potluck with my mom. Going down the table full of lumpy casseroles, my plate was quickly overflowing with the oddest looking combination of so-called food. My mother made me try at least every dish on my plate. Needless to say, that was the last time I wanted to attend a church "gathering."
Jello Salad
As I got older and attended more of these unnecessary congregations I learned to only take a minimal amount of food and to try not to make contact with one of the ladies with a severing spoon standing behind the tables. Since I've moved out and on my own, I can happily say that I haven't gone to a single church "gathering" and I don't plan on going to one anytime soon.
Week 5: Peer Review
Rebecca:
Rebecca, this week I really enjoyed your post for prompt eleven. It was a great little piece that gave just enough information and detail for readers to get a feel for your personality. The only thing I would've liked to see was more. I would've liked to have read about what else happened on your vacation. I mean, if you can make simply eating outside a bakery interesting and entertaining to read, I can only imagine where you could've gone with this piece.
Kayla:
Hey Kayla! Your posts for this week were really interesting and I thoroughly enjoyed reading both of them. My favorite was " Rush Hour." I really loved the sarcastic tone because I could relate to the situation and appreciate the sense of humor. In other words, I found the piece to be very entertaining. In your other post, " Less than forever away," I thought it was interesting how you chose to use paragraph headings. I felt that if the paragraphs had been a bit lengthier this technique would've been more effective in guiding your readers. All in all though, I really enjoyed your pieces this week. Keep up the great work!
Rebecca, this week I really enjoyed your post for prompt eleven. It was a great little piece that gave just enough information and detail for readers to get a feel for your personality. The only thing I would've liked to see was more. I would've liked to have read about what else happened on your vacation. I mean, if you can make simply eating outside a bakery interesting and entertaining to read, I can only imagine where you could've gone with this piece.
Kayla:
Hey Kayla! Your posts for this week were really interesting and I thoroughly enjoyed reading both of them. My favorite was " Rush Hour." I really loved the sarcastic tone because I could relate to the situation and appreciate the sense of humor. In other words, I found the piece to be very entertaining. In your other post, " Less than forever away," I thought it was interesting how you chose to use paragraph headings. I felt that if the paragraphs had been a bit lengthier this technique would've been more effective in guiding your readers. All in all though, I really enjoyed your pieces this week. Keep up the great work!
Thursday, February 10, 2011
We'll Never Know...(Prompt 13)
Corina was afraid. How could she not be? She was sitting in the middle of the Blandford Cemetery with her dog, Cuddles, and her two best friends, Kate and Julia. To make matters worse, it was her own fault they were all stuck there. Earlier that same day, Jared Owens, the fifth grade class bully of Carver Elementary School said he would leave Corina and her two friends alone for the rest of the school year if they would accept and complete a challenge. Not wanting to look like a chicken and desperately wanting Jared to leave her and her friends alone, Corina accepted. It was until she heard what it was that she wished she hadn't got to school that day. Jared informed Corina, her two best friends, and the rest of the kids on the playground that if the three girls could successfully spend four whole hours in the Blandford Cemetary that he would leave them alone.
At ten o'clock sharp, Corina, Kate, and Julia snuck out of their houses and met Jared at the cemetery entrance with their sleeping bags and Corina's shih-tzu, Cuddles ( a small guard dog is better than no guard dog). Jared told them that he would wait until two o'clock (or sooner if they were too afraid to stay the whole time). And with that, he directed the girls to the iron cemetery gate.
The cold night air whipped past the girls as they looked for an acceptable place to wait out the next four dreaded hours. Cemeteries are creepy in general, but the brisk breeze made the hairs on their necks stand straight up and Cuddles stopped dead in his tracks to whimper. Deciding that going any further into the cemetery would be too scary and much too difficult to escape should a zombie apocalypse begin, they spread their sleeping bags around a very plain but clean-looking headstone. Kate read the details aloud, " May you rest in peace. Here lies Bill Eustice, a loving son, father, and husband. Born 1942. Died 2003." As she finished reading the last date, the wind picked up again and the trees began to sway. Kate and Julia grabbed Cuddles and jumped into the same sleeping bag (he was named Cuddles for a reason, of course). Corina, though terrified and wanting very much to join her friends and dog, restrained herself and put her brave face on. She had to make it through the night and reassure her friends that everything was fine since it was her fault that they were all hanging out together in the middle of the town cemetery, after all.
The next few hours crept by slowly. Kate, Julia, and Cuddles clung to one another shaking. Corina sat shaking, alone in her won bag and tired to keep everyone's minds off the fact that they were surrounded by dead bodies and were sitting directly six feet above one specifically, by singing old girls' camp songs Her friends didn't join in at first but couldn't help themselves after the second or third song. Their favorite was "Bazooka Bubblegum." They sang it a couple of times all the way through and then they laughed and began reminiscing and sharing camp stories. All of the sudden the wind stopped and the girls heard "...I bought some bubblegum. Bazooka-zooka bubblegum..."
Not attempting to figure out where the almost inaudible voice sing their favorite song was coming from, they immediately jumped up, grabbed their blankets and Cuddles, and ran screaming for the gate. Jared was slumped outside of the cemetery against the brick wall when they finally reached the outside. Catching their breaths, they took turns telling him what had just happened. Jared tried not to look terrified and told them that though he didn't believe them, a deal was a deal. They had made it to two o'clock and would no longer have to endure his bullying for the rest of the school year. And with that, he high-tailed it home...
At ten o'clock sharp, Corina, Kate, and Julia snuck out of their houses and met Jared at the cemetery entrance with their sleeping bags and Corina's shih-tzu, Cuddles ( a small guard dog is better than no guard dog). Jared told them that he would wait until two o'clock (or sooner if they were too afraid to stay the whole time). And with that, he directed the girls to the iron cemetery gate.
The next few hours crept by slowly. Kate, Julia, and Cuddles clung to one another shaking. Corina sat shaking, alone in her won bag and tired to keep everyone's minds off the fact that they were surrounded by dead bodies and were sitting directly six feet above one specifically, by singing old girls' camp songs Her friends didn't join in at first but couldn't help themselves after the second or third song. Their favorite was "Bazooka Bubblegum." They sang it a couple of times all the way through and then they laughed and began reminiscing and sharing camp stories. All of the sudden the wind stopped and the girls heard "...I bought some bubblegum. Bazooka-zooka bubblegum..."
Not attempting to figure out where the almost inaudible voice sing their favorite song was coming from, they immediately jumped up, grabbed their blankets and Cuddles, and ran screaming for the gate. Jared was slumped outside of the cemetery against the brick wall when they finally reached the outside. Catching their breaths, they took turns telling him what had just happened. Jared tried not to look terrified and told them that though he didn't believe them, a deal was a deal. They had made it to two o'clock and would no longer have to endure his bullying for the rest of the school year. And with that, he high-tailed it home...
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
My Trip...Never Taken (Prompt #11)
The glistening reflection of the sun warmed my bare skin almost immediately. The cool breeze was a refreshing contrast and I could taste the salt from the ocean in my mouth. It was strange to think I'd be here alone for the next couple of days and that I didn't tell a soul where I was going.
It was enjoyable and even comfortable being alone and worry-free (well, almost worry-free) for once. Time to reflect and take in the beauty of life and my surroundings is just what I felt I needed. Because I felt like the trip was supposed to be all about finding myself and being "alone" for the first time in my entire life, I decided that no one would accompany me and I would tell no one where I was going.
Upon arriving in California (not exotic or very far away from home, I know), I checked into my hotel and settled myself in my less than spectacular room with a more than spectacular view. From my small window on the second floor, I could see the beach and the most picturesque little aging pier. I wanted to jump out the window, straight into the beautiful water down below.
The next few days of my mini-vacation consisted of only wearing shoes when absolutely necessary, eating enough food for at least five other people, cleaning sand out of every nook and cranny of my body, and caring about nothing but myself. I would have never come back to reality given the option.
My week in my own little paradise passed by quickly. On my very last day I took a walk on the beach. I wanted to feel the sand between my toes and feel the gentle, warm ocean breeze once more before returning to the land-locked desert that I call home. Though I didn't do any sightseeing or tourist-like activities, I felt like I had gained more than I had set out to. It was a valuable experience that I knew I wouldn't trade for the world.
It was enjoyable and even comfortable being alone and worry-free (well, almost worry-free) for once. Time to reflect and take in the beauty of life and my surroundings is just what I felt I needed. Because I felt like the trip was supposed to be all about finding myself and being "alone" for the first time in my entire life, I decided that no one would accompany me and I would tell no one where I was going.
Upon arriving in California (not exotic or very far away from home, I know), I checked into my hotel and settled myself in my less than spectacular room with a more than spectacular view. From my small window on the second floor, I could see the beach and the most picturesque little aging pier. I wanted to jump out the window, straight into the beautiful water down below.
The next few days of my mini-vacation consisted of only wearing shoes when absolutely necessary, eating enough food for at least five other people, cleaning sand out of every nook and cranny of my body, and caring about nothing but myself. I would have never come back to reality given the option.
My week in my own little paradise passed by quickly. On my very last day I took a walk on the beach. I wanted to feel the sand between my toes and feel the gentle, warm ocean breeze once more before returning to the land-locked desert that I call home. Though I didn't do any sightseeing or tourist-like activities, I felt like I had gained more than I had set out to. It was a valuable experience that I knew I wouldn't trade for the world.
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