1st Sentence:
Not just the word, but what it means to the human society.
9: The word and what it means to human society.
7: What the word means to human society
5: The meaning of the word
3: Word to society
1: Society
2nd Sentence:
Many people feel that not knowing where everything is or not knowing what everything is, can lead to fear.
9: The unknown of everything is equivalent to complete fear.
7: Fear is not knowing what is there.
5: Everything not knowing is fear.
3: Not knowing is fear.
1: Unknown
3rd Sentence:
Just as she was pulling up to the circle, she dropped her pen right of her hand.
9: Pulling up, she dropped the pen from her hand.
7: She dropped the pen from her hand.
5: Suddenly, the pen had dropped.
3: The pen fell
1: Drop
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Naral Pro Choice America
On this past Wednesday, I went to a Naral Pro Choice America Luncheon with my mom and a few of my old classmates from elementary school. Listening to speakers talk about pro choice really made me realize how anyone could ever not be pro choice. Imagine yourself as a teengage year old girl and being raped by your own father? How could you not believe that getting abortion isn't the right thing to do? As I heard many individuals talk about their situations, the one that really stood out to me, was doctor Susan Wicklund. She is a health physician and author of the novel, The Common Secret, My Journey as an Abortion Doctor.
Dr. Wicklund has been giving abortions for more than 20 years now. She is constantly traveling to different parts of the country to serve her duty as an abortion doctor. She told stories of how she once had protestors place huge cement barrels behind her car in the driveway, so she wouldnt be able to get out in the morning when she was getting ready to drive to work. Susan Wicklund never gave up. She knew that if she wasn't there to serve her duty, no one else would have been. The only reason she kept going was because she herself had had 2 abortions. Not only that, but her grandma's best friend was pregnant from her own father and her grandma was the one who tried to save her by sticking a sharp tool up her best friend and tried to kill the baby herself. Instead of killing the baby, she killed her best friend. It was dreadful to hear this story, and you could see the tears starting to appear as she finished up telling us what had happened that day her grandma told her. After I heard that marvelous woman talk, it really motivated me to start telling people to be pro choice. As a result, I wrote this blog post in order to inform teenagers, parents, and any age group to really sit back and realize that getting an abortion is really NOT a bad decision.
Dr. Wicklund has been giving abortions for more than 20 years now. She is constantly traveling to different parts of the country to serve her duty as an abortion doctor. She told stories of how she once had protestors place huge cement barrels behind her car in the driveway, so she wouldnt be able to get out in the morning when she was getting ready to drive to work. Susan Wicklund never gave up. She knew that if she wasn't there to serve her duty, no one else would have been. The only reason she kept going was because she herself had had 2 abortions. Not only that, but her grandma's best friend was pregnant from her own father and her grandma was the one who tried to save her by sticking a sharp tool up her best friend and tried to kill the baby herself. Instead of killing the baby, she killed her best friend. It was dreadful to hear this story, and you could see the tears starting to appear as she finished up telling us what had happened that day her grandma told her. After I heard that marvelous woman talk, it really motivated me to start telling people to be pro choice. As a result, I wrote this blog post in order to inform teenagers, parents, and any age group to really sit back and realize that getting an abortion is really NOT a bad decision.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Reflection
The most challenging part of this essay was due to the amount of time I had to write and revise. I had a hard time starting what I wanted to start with, so it took me a while to write my rough draft. As I finally realized what I wanted to do, I had a difficult time finding the right words and phrases for my sentences. In addition, once I got all my ideas on paper, I didn't know what format I wanted to use to make my essay more interesting than usual. I had help on that from my teacher, and I think it really worked out. If I could go back and change parts of my essay, I would probably try and link the paragraphs together more. I had the idea of having different points in each paragraph and I am not sure it all linked together as a whole. I would also change the vocabulary I used. Some of it was very childish and I could have used older diction that many of my fellow classmates use.
My essay is about mainly about fear and why we are afraid in our lives. What makes us become afraid? I wanted to convey the feeling of emotion by having a made up story about a spider about to fright a young girl. My articulation of this concept is unique because I used fear and connected it to how people can be in a fear situation. In a way, that was my evidence of how fear appears in people's lives.
When I was writing this essay I had a really fun time actually reading it. Usually my essays have the basic format of beginning, body paragraphs, and ending. This time I could expand from that horizon and I was able to use a different format. With a different format, I could just play with the way I wrote my essay. I could still make it intellectual, yet make it more interesting to read at the same time. In addition, I had fun writing this essay because it was something new I had never experienced before. I hope sometime soon I can write an essay or just a regular paper with this same type of format. I want to be able to write stories, essay, whatever writing there is in this unique style of writing.
My essay is about mainly about fear and why we are afraid in our lives. What makes us become afraid? I wanted to convey the feeling of emotion by having a made up story about a spider about to fright a young girl. My articulation of this concept is unique because I used fear and connected it to how people can be in a fear situation. In a way, that was my evidence of how fear appears in people's lives.
When I was writing this essay I had a really fun time actually reading it. Usually my essays have the basic format of beginning, body paragraphs, and ending. This time I could expand from that horizon and I was able to use a different format. With a different format, I could just play with the way I wrote my essay. I could still make it intellectual, yet make it more interesting to read at the same time. In addition, I had fun writing this essay because it was something new I had never experienced before. I hope sometime soon I can write an essay or just a regular paper with this same type of format. I want to be able to write stories, essay, whatever writing there is in this unique style of writing.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
MPAC
They call us their kids, the ones they care about. They wrestle with us in the mud, the grass wherever we are they are there too. Before I was part of the family, I had a different family. I loved that family with all my heart. I was with them for many years. We shared many memories and heart to heart conversations together. But every good thing has to end. But as soon as I become part of a new family, I felt even more connected. I would call MP and AC my fathers, but that would be a little disturbing considering the fact they are both in there high 20s and low 30s. People say friends come and go, but family is forever. But who ever said family members had to be nice?
"Why are you breathing so hard Elle?
"Sorry i'm just tired..."
"Looks like you need a hug."
"Not from you, thanks."
"Good because I wasn't offering."
Would you say that to your "kid"? Ever?
But then again, whoever said everyone had to be nice.
I came to this family to be apart of something and to learn how to deal with situations that were going to stay with me for the rest of my life. That day I realized, as long as I'm on this team I am going to have to realize that MP is a jokester and likes to make people feel bad about themselves, ONLY to make them work harder.
AC is different. He grapples with the girls' problems. Bad or good he knows what to say. Not only does he help us with whatever is wrong, he pushes each individual to the point where he knows that person can handle it. Some girls have a tendency of not going their full potential. With AC around, there is no messing around. You do what he wants, when he wants.
As I look back at what fun I've had in the past 5 months, I can see that I have grown up a lot at what MPAC have taught me. They believe in me. They compliment me and furthermore they make me a stronger person. I don't think I'd be the soccer player I am today if it werent for my two additional fathers, also known as my coaches; MP & AC.
"Why are you breathing so hard Elle?
"Sorry i'm just tired..."
"Looks like you need a hug."
"Not from you, thanks."
"Good because I wasn't offering."
Would you say that to your "kid"? Ever?
But then again, whoever said everyone had to be nice.
I came to this family to be apart of something and to learn how to deal with situations that were going to stay with me for the rest of my life. That day I realized, as long as I'm on this team I am going to have to realize that MP is a jokester and likes to make people feel bad about themselves, ONLY to make them work harder.
AC is different. He grapples with the girls' problems. Bad or good he knows what to say. Not only does he help us with whatever is wrong, he pushes each individual to the point where he knows that person can handle it. Some girls have a tendency of not going their full potential. With AC around, there is no messing around. You do what he wants, when he wants.
As I look back at what fun I've had in the past 5 months, I can see that I have grown up a lot at what MPAC have taught me. They believe in me. They compliment me and furthermore they make me a stronger person. I don't think I'd be the soccer player I am today if it werent for my two additional fathers, also known as my coaches; MP & AC.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
The Warm Breathing Truck
The Warm Breathing Truck
By Elle Laub
It was a hot summer day, the sun was out, the birds were singing and it was just the right temperature to play one incredibly fun game. Can you guess what it was? It has 2 teams. One team is “kicking” and the other team is “fielding.” How about now? Well, the game was kickball. I was around 3 or 4 years old and this was my favorite game of all time.
My family and I lived in a cul-de-sac of 4 families. Teddy and Katie, the Degrandmonts, the Kopecs, and some other family, which I believe had no kids at the time. The 3 kids from the Degrandmonts were definitely part of the kickball squad. Whenever we felt like playing we went outside with the ball and after a while the other kids would join in. At that time, I couldn’t just “text” them since I didn’t have a phone and I was only 3 years old.
Particular on this day, everyone’s parents were out of the house doing errands of some sort and it was just us kids wandering around the house. We had an amazing idea. Why not play a game of kickball? It was a beautiful day and the sun was shining at just the right temperature. Teddy, my neighbor next door, came out of the house with the oval shaped bouncy ball and called me over to play. He too knew it was a great day to play! We knocked on the Degrandmonts door; luckily all 3 kids were home and were eager to play kickball. After we gathered every kid from their houses in our col-de-sac, it was time to pick teams. I had a strong kick compared to my other friends, so I was picked first or second every time.
“Elle!” Courtney, my sister, said.
“ The teams are SO unfair Courtney…” Katie, the 7 year old neighbor, exclaimed.
We row sham bowed to figure out who got to kick first and who had to play in the field first. My team, as Courtney as my captain was in the field first. I could not wait to go up and kick the crap out of the ball! I had just been practicing the other day, since it was summer and this was the prime time of the year to play kickball. 3 outs went by quick with Teddy on our team. He played goalie in his recreational soccer team and he didn’t mind if he had to dive or slide for the ball every once in a while. As teddy as our number one outfielder, we had an amazing pitcher, Courtney. She played softball and knew exactly how to spin a ball so the kicker can’t kick the ball as far as they liked. And this is why people said our team was unfair.
Finally it was our turn to bat. I was so excited because I was put 4th in the kicking order. In basball, the fourth one up to bat is known as the one who sweeps up the people on the bases. This is because they have the best arm and usually get home runs. This goes the same for kickball, the one with the strongest kick, is 4th up to bat. As I came up to bat, someone yelled, “WATCH OUT!” I thought they were just trying to fool me since they knew if I turned around it would distract me from the game, so I didn’t check. As soon as I was about to boot the ball out of the park, this loud grunting sound came up behind me as if it had been creeping up on me for a long period of time. At that moment, I screamed and yelled! What was it? I didn’t want to turn around just in case it was some kind of warm-breathing dragon. The sound began to sound more like an engine, so I realized it might be just some type of car. It was my mother. My plain old mother with the big truck Lexus. The car had scared the bejeebers out of me and I never got to kick my homerun. Ill always remember the time my mom snuck up behind me in her gigantic truck and have my first at bat ever, NOT be a homerun.
By Elle Laub
It was a hot summer day, the sun was out, the birds were singing and it was just the right temperature to play one incredibly fun game. Can you guess what it was? It has 2 teams. One team is “kicking” and the other team is “fielding.” How about now? Well, the game was kickball. I was around 3 or 4 years old and this was my favorite game of all time.
My family and I lived in a cul-de-sac of 4 families. Teddy and Katie, the Degrandmonts, the Kopecs, and some other family, which I believe had no kids at the time. The 3 kids from the Degrandmonts were definitely part of the kickball squad. Whenever we felt like playing we went outside with the ball and after a while the other kids would join in. At that time, I couldn’t just “text” them since I didn’t have a phone and I was only 3 years old.
Particular on this day, everyone’s parents were out of the house doing errands of some sort and it was just us kids wandering around the house. We had an amazing idea. Why not play a game of kickball? It was a beautiful day and the sun was shining at just the right temperature. Teddy, my neighbor next door, came out of the house with the oval shaped bouncy ball and called me over to play. He too knew it was a great day to play! We knocked on the Degrandmonts door; luckily all 3 kids were home and were eager to play kickball. After we gathered every kid from their houses in our col-de-sac, it was time to pick teams. I had a strong kick compared to my other friends, so I was picked first or second every time.
“Elle!” Courtney, my sister, said.
“ The teams are SO unfair Courtney…” Katie, the 7 year old neighbor, exclaimed.
We row sham bowed to figure out who got to kick first and who had to play in the field first. My team, as Courtney as my captain was in the field first. I could not wait to go up and kick the crap out of the ball! I had just been practicing the other day, since it was summer and this was the prime time of the year to play kickball. 3 outs went by quick with Teddy on our team. He played goalie in his recreational soccer team and he didn’t mind if he had to dive or slide for the ball every once in a while. As teddy as our number one outfielder, we had an amazing pitcher, Courtney. She played softball and knew exactly how to spin a ball so the kicker can’t kick the ball as far as they liked. And this is why people said our team was unfair.
Finally it was our turn to bat. I was so excited because I was put 4th in the kicking order. In basball, the fourth one up to bat is known as the one who sweeps up the people on the bases. This is because they have the best arm and usually get home runs. This goes the same for kickball, the one with the strongest kick, is 4th up to bat. As I came up to bat, someone yelled, “WATCH OUT!” I thought they were just trying to fool me since they knew if I turned around it would distract me from the game, so I didn’t check. As soon as I was about to boot the ball out of the park, this loud grunting sound came up behind me as if it had been creeping up on me for a long period of time. At that moment, I screamed and yelled! What was it? I didn’t want to turn around just in case it was some kind of warm-breathing dragon. The sound began to sound more like an engine, so I realized it might be just some type of car. It was my mother. My plain old mother with the big truck Lexus. The car had scared the bejeebers out of me and I never got to kick my homerun. Ill always remember the time my mom snuck up behind me in her gigantic truck and have my first at bat ever, NOT be a homerun.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
3 Questions for Tobias
1) Which short story did you think everyone was going to like the best? the worst? How did that change?
2) How did you think of Nightingale? I think it is the most interesting and confusing story out of the ones I had to read and want to know where your mind originated in about thinking about this book. Do you even know?
3) How many books do you have out? Are you still a continuous writer? Or have you stopped? What is your favorite genre to write?
2) How did you think of Nightingale? I think it is the most interesting and confusing story out of the ones I had to read and want to know where your mind originated in about thinking about this book. Do you even know?
3) How many books do you have out? Are you still a continuous writer? Or have you stopped? What is your favorite genre to write?
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Zoom in and Zooming Out
Sentance: He looked back and saw the elephant running after the jeep.
Zoomed Out all the Way : Tim looked back at the zoo he had longed wished he had stayed at. He never got to see his favorite animal. The elephants. Peeking around a huge cage, Tim spotted something large and grey. He couldn't believe his eyes. Was it really what he thought it was?? An actual elephant escaping from the zoo?? No, it couldn't be. But, oh yes it was. Tim yelled to his mom.
Mom, mom! Drive Faster!! There is an elephant coming towards our jeep! No joke, mom! Come on!
She turned her head around to make sure her son wasn't being insanely delusional. There it was, completely out of the ordinary, an elephant was running after their jeep.
Zoomed In Half Way : Tim's eyes starring at gravel laying on the slanted surface. Sadness filled his eyes and he couldn't help but think he was never going to see those big grey footed mammals ever. He got into his nice car, sat down on the patted cushion, just comfortable enough for his small butt to fit right in. As he turned around to see his favorite zoo pass away in the distance, he noticed something moving behind a slightly slanted yellowish lampost. He had never noticed how slanted that post had really been. So many different things were going through his head at that moment. He had no idea what it was! A lion? A tiger? A bear? OMG it was an elephant! The stomping of the feet had a louder echo each step the elephant took. The toenails were grinding against the concrete as if it was chalk against a blackboard. Sprinting at Tim full speed was not something he wanted to see flash before his eyes. He told his witch-like mother to watch the creature crawl closer towards the jeep, but she refused until the very last second.
Zoomed In all the Way: Tim's sweldering pupils were looking at the animals legs running around in a circular motion. You could hear the sound of their nails grind against the bark of the trees and the sides of the gates the animals were enclosed in. The roars of the lions were echoing from far away. My foot crunched against the small pieces of cement as I walked past the entrance of my home away from home. Thinking about his past, seeing lions for the first time, and then monkeys today. The monkeys were grey with black spots that filled their back while their heads were white as panda fur. He remembers the day that his mom once handed him a small chimp that sat perfectly in his hand. But never has he witnessed such a beautiful creature, his favorite animal. They were rough, but gentle. Big, but kind. Sad on the outside, but then full of life on the inside.
Zoomed Out all the Way : Tim looked back at the zoo he had longed wished he had stayed at. He never got to see his favorite animal. The elephants. Peeking around a huge cage, Tim spotted something large and grey. He couldn't believe his eyes. Was it really what he thought it was?? An actual elephant escaping from the zoo?? No, it couldn't be. But, oh yes it was. Tim yelled to his mom.
Mom, mom! Drive Faster!! There is an elephant coming towards our jeep! No joke, mom! Come on!
She turned her head around to make sure her son wasn't being insanely delusional. There it was, completely out of the ordinary, an elephant was running after their jeep.
Zoomed In Half Way : Tim's eyes starring at gravel laying on the slanted surface. Sadness filled his eyes and he couldn't help but think he was never going to see those big grey footed mammals ever. He got into his nice car, sat down on the patted cushion, just comfortable enough for his small butt to fit right in. As he turned around to see his favorite zoo pass away in the distance, he noticed something moving behind a slightly slanted yellowish lampost. He had never noticed how slanted that post had really been. So many different things were going through his head at that moment. He had no idea what it was! A lion? A tiger? A bear? OMG it was an elephant! The stomping of the feet had a louder echo each step the elephant took. The toenails were grinding against the concrete as if it was chalk against a blackboard. Sprinting at Tim full speed was not something he wanted to see flash before his eyes. He told his witch-like mother to watch the creature crawl closer towards the jeep, but she refused until the very last second.
Zoomed In all the Way: Tim's sweldering pupils were looking at the animals legs running around in a circular motion. You could hear the sound of their nails grind against the bark of the trees and the sides of the gates the animals were enclosed in. The roars of the lions were echoing from far away. My foot crunched against the small pieces of cement as I walked past the entrance of my home away from home. Thinking about his past, seeing lions for the first time, and then monkeys today. The monkeys were grey with black spots that filled their back while their heads were white as panda fur. He remembers the day that his mom once handed him a small chimp that sat perfectly in his hand. But never has he witnessed such a beautiful creature, his favorite animal. They were rough, but gentle. Big, but kind. Sad on the outside, but then full of life on the inside.
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