Blog# 12: Photograph

Browsing through old photos was fun. I found some good ones and I couldnt' decide which to write about. i decided to pick a cute and funny one. In this photograph is my aunt Chrissie and me as a baby. My aunt was sitting on the floor and I was standing in between her legs. She was holding me as I was looking at the camera. She is wearing blue jeans, a long sleeve white shirt, and a blue shawl with snowflakes. Her dark brown hair is down and she is smiling. There is a bunch of boxes at the right of the picture so it must have been a holiday or my brithday. On the left side is someone with their left leg crossed over on the right. They are not really part of the picture so I am not sure who it is. This picture was taken in my living room. Im standing in yellow footsie pajamas with some circus picture ( I think) on my stomach. I'm looking at the camera, and I have my right arm up with my finger on my ear as if im saying "Whatttttttt???" and can't hear. lol I had to say I really laughed out loud with this one.

Blog # 11: Objects

After looking in my closet, a drawer, my purse, wallet, pockets, backpack, and even boxes with old things, I came across a few things. i found so many things from my childhood i had no idea what to pick to write about. i narrowed them down to two.

When I was younger, probably a baby, I had this blanket. Blanky, my blanket, was a blanket I slept with everynight to keep the monsters away from me. It was white with a hint of blue and yellow. The blanket was my security blanket. I held it in the car as I carried it everywhere with me. It went to the stores, to the doctors, dentist, etc. I asked my mom about it, and she told me once I took it with me to my aunts house in New York and I accidentally left it there. Once I realized I didnt have it I started to freak and balled my eyes out. My aunt had to mail it back the next day. When it was time to be washed I refused bc it had the smell on it that I was familiar with. As mom would wash it over and over it would start to rip because the material was so gentle. I still have my blanket today, despite its condition. My blanket has been tired in several knots to keep it from ripping anymore. Today, it looks like a soft rope.

I found my old wallet i had and in it was my old license, silly cards u press with your thumb and a color appears indicting a answer, and a Babysitters Club card. The club memership was something i joined to get bookmarks, magazines, updates, etc. I choose to blog about the card because I laughed when I saw it. Before I mention the Babysitters Club books, I want to mention another series of books that correlates along with them.
Before I began reading the BabySitters Club books, I started to read the Little Sisters Series because they were better suited for my age. The little sisters series are about Karen, Kristy's little sister and her adventures. I loved these books. Then i became older and started to read the actual Babysitters Club books. Out of curiousity, I searched for the Babysitters Club books on barnes and nobles website and I immediately said "wow". These books started in 1995, and it is now 2008. They even have the same girls but in cartoon characters and their own books. I loved these books because they were fun to read, relatable stories, and they kept my attention. Today,these books are in a cardboard box tucked away in a closet. Also on a shelf is the Babysitters Club movie.

Blog #10 So, which essay?

So this stinks. I have three essays to decide from and I like them all. I feel good about them all and truly wish I could revise each of them. I have to think realistically and choose one for now. The other essays won't go to waste; I just can't work on them now. So after much thought, the essay I choose to revise is either my first or second, haha. Ok as you can see I am having a tough time deciding, but no I will choose. I can't be indecisive. Ok the first essay is the one I will revise because its something that affects me today. All of the essays have something to do with me, but I feel the first essay is a part of me. It is why today I am more confident with myself. My draft has the main story. As of right now, my plan of how I will revise the essay is by discussing another instance, reflection, and then include an example of how I overcame the fear today, reflection, and conclusion. That is my game plan, so let's see what I can come up with.

Blog # 9 Draft of Second Essay

What is courage? What does it mean to be courageous? What is bravery? What does it mean to be brave? Being courageous is knowing what you might do could result in serious consequences, yet you go ahead and do it anyway. Being brave is knowing something bad could happy, yet still doing it anyway. It is all about taking risks, and sometimes we should get up and take that risk, but well if we don’t…. it’s hard to say what would have happen if we did, however we will never know, and the worst thing to do is sit back and to wonder what could have happened if only we tried. Let’s be brave and just go for it, we only live once; unless we are a cat.


“Jump Jump! You can do it! Just Jump. It’s only water”. Why do brains have to speak? If only they would be quite for a second so I could figure out what I’m going to do now. Standing high above the water, above the people, I heard nothing. I knew they were cheering for me, but all I heard was the voice in me saying “go go” I don’t know why I’m up here, so it might be a good idea to backtrack. This is how it all began.


One sunny hot summer afternoon, I was walking anxiously around the house waiting to leave. I had just put on my new bathing suit, dark blue, one of my favorite colors. Since I belonged to a swimming club, I needed my badge. It’s a stupid pointless yellow thing, however I cant find it. Little did I know, misplacing my badge was the least of my worries.


After rummaging through the pile of clean clothes I found my badge. I must have knocked it off my dresser while I was dusting earlier today. Silly me. Now I needed a pair of shorts and a shirt, and then hopefully I’ll be set to go. I slide my fresh pedicure feet into my black flip-flops and went downstairs. I need to pack my beach bag. A towel, sunscreen, goldfish crackers, the latest seventeen magazine, and Poland Spring water bottle. Hey I have to keep up with today’s fashion, and the celebrity gossip in the world.


Since I was feeling anxious and eager to get to the pool, the ten-minute ride felt forever. After mom parked in the parking spot, I opened the door of the van and quickly began walking towards the pool. I wouldn’t even wait for my mother or brother, I just wanted to swim.


I can be impatient at times. This was one of those times. I like to just get up and go only if I know it will work out in the end. If I am unsure of something I will walk slower contemplating whether or not I should go. Being indecisive can really drive me crazy. I go back and forth between ideas, and only I can make the decision. Sometimes I’d want to ask someone else but all they will do is turn around and say hey it’s your thing your decision. Ugh! In this case I had a gut feeling that my decision will turn out positive.


Even though I was so eager to go, I couldn’t get into the pool. I’m not one to just jump right in. I have to go in slowly which ends up taking forever. By the time I get in, I am ready to get out and lay out in the beautiful bright sun to work on my nonexistent tan. After a few minutes, I figure ok I went in, cooled off; I’ll go back in the pool later. So I got out and ran over to get my lime green towel, praying that on the way I don’t fall flat on my face, I mean they don’t hire ugly lifeguards do they? I sat on the lounge chair, and I stretched out my wet legs. I really do need a tan; I mean it is July isn’t it? I reached over to the right side to obtain my beach bag for my new Seventeen magazine and my Poland Spring water. I put the bag back down, and I put on my black Dolce and Gabanna sunglasses as I begin to read my magazine. Two pages in, I take a sip of water, ahhhh, and put the cap back on. I love water because it is so refreshing, especially when it is ice cold. I turn to page four of the magazine and look at the celebrities featured.


Cameras flash as celebrities walk the red carpet looking all fabulous as they flash their smiles, show off their jewelry and wearing top of the line clothing as they strut their well-toned and slim bodies. Days later people like you and me pick up the magazines and look at those pictures, envy them and wish to have the perfect stomach, huge muscles, or big breasts. Some people then stare at themselves in front of the mirror. As they stare they begin to feel self-conscious and wonder what they can change about their body. If I did that I would look better.

Of course I’m laying out to tan, and the cover features an article on the dangers of tanning and the negative effects. What else is new I thought?


We read about dangers of things all the time, but do we always listen? Of course not because we can be stubborn and think well it will not happen to me so why do I have to listen? In two pictures are my brother, my sister, and I. The two pictures were taken the same day and time, however the lighting on my mom’s camera was different than my sisters. Of course I love the one where I’m almost brown. I like having some color on my body, it makes me feel good. I mean doesn’t everyone?


Of course I’m laying out to tan, and the cover features an article on the dangers of tanning and the negative effects. But i love the look.


Back in the pool I’m swimming around enjoying the water. As I’m swimming I shift my green eyes to the right to look at the people jumping off the diving boards. There are two diving boards; one is higher than the other. I always wanted to jump off them because they look like so much fun. I mean I would just jump into the water and be ok right? So I manage to get out of the five feet water and walk over to the twelve-foot area of the pool. This time I’m walking very slow on the gray cement because I’m still not to sure if I want to do it.


Going back to before, I practically ran into the club eager to get into the pool. Now I find myself walking slowly unsure of what I want to do. My mind is freaking out because so much is going through it right now.


To make matters worse, the lower diving board is packed. I stood in line for the higher one. Eventually it was my turn to go. I climbed up the silver metal stirs thinking to myself why am I doing this? I never tried them before why now? I reach the top and boy is this high. Ok this isn’t the time to have a panic attack and scream so what do I do? Stand up here and twiddle my thumbs? Count the people at the pool today? Oh look a bird, hey that cloud looks like a dinosaur. Ok don’t panic just walk and look straight out and jump, hold my nose and go under the water, pop up and get it over with.


Fear of heights is one of the most common fears people have today. Some people do not like multiple floor buildings where they are extremely high up. Some people do not like Ferris wheels or the sky tram that takes you over an entire amusement park. I remember doing both of those with no problem, well with a little fear, but I still did it an enjoyed it. So if im up here am I afraid of heights? But now I’m stuck at the top scared shitless. I made it up here, which is a good start, but now I have to walk to the end of the board and jump into the clear blue water. Ok, mind, you think this is so simple huh, well guess what it’s not. If it was so simple why aren’t my legs moving?


I’m shaking I am scared I don’t want to do this. The stairs look better than the water. According to the pool rules I have to jump. I can’t walk back down the stairs. Great, now what? Its bad enough the attention is on me. I mean come on isn’t there good food at the concession stand today? Chicken fingers? Fries? They are the popular favorites.


So I am still standing up there on the board and shaking. People down below are cheering and rooting for me. They are on my side. The lifeguards are wishing I would just jump. The people in line are becoming more anxious waiting for their turn. I stand there for a few more minutes pondering on what to do. I should just take the risk and jump. It is fun and people jump off the diving boards all the time. They jump and land in the water and continue to splash, swim, and fool around all in good fun. The quicker I jump, the quicker I can splash, swim, and have fun.

Giving up I ignore the rules and turn around and walk down the gray cement steps knowing I should have just jumped. If it was that bad no one would do it. As I reached the last step, I felt the stares. Those who were by the pool know who I am. I am the girl who did not jump of the high diving board. I am the chicken.


Thing back to this moment I learned that I gave up too quickly. I was already on the diving board and so I all I had to do was walk to the tip of the board and jump into the blue water. Instead of jumping I gave up, turned around, and walked back to the stairs and then down the stairs I went. Now as I type this essay, I regret not going because I should have. I mean I must have wanted to since I walked over to the ladder and up the steps to the board. I was already ready to jump, but I froze. It was not about making a decision; it was about going through with it, following through. Unfortunately I did not follow through and I chickened out. There was no point in talking about courage and bravery because I was neither of the two. Instead I should be talking about weak and fear because standing up there I was afraid, and I became weak letting the fear get the best of me.......Splash! In the water I wish I went.....

Blog # : Inbetween blog 8 and 9

So i typed my essay, and then opened up an essay i had started and began typing away. So instead of having one second essay, i now have two. Yes two, you could say i really was into writing this weekend.

Blog #8 In-class blog "Overwhelmed"

Coming up with ideas for an essay is defintiley easier than writing it. Of course that is a no-brainer. Thinking back to our conference, i know what the strengths and weaknesses were of my first essay. Concepts and ideas is what i really have to think about.

Before i read my classmates comments, i looked over my ideas that i posted as possible topics for my second essay. I broke them down and thought about the concepts/ideas that would go along with them.

• Fright Fest- concept of fear
• Diving Board - concept of fear, fear of heights maybe?
• Escalators- fear again....but its not a top candidate for an essay
• My first ticket - thats something you just dont forget. changes ur perspective of when driving on the road
• bro leaving for college - that was a sad day. concept of a time i was sad.
• Two of my favorite games- thats all i can say about them. so it wouldnt be a top candidate either
• The doll house and playhouse -those were things my father built for me. i recall the dollhouse more. I loved the dollhouse. I would be playing with it all the time. The furniture and people were from Playmobile. i dont remeber the last time i had it and why i no longer have it anymore. obvious reason is maybe now im older? it fell apart? thats something i'll have to ask my parents and see.
• the jungle gym- this wassomething my father built for my siblings and i. i remeber it well, but thats all.
• I also remeber playing with barbies, my blanket I would always have by my side, reading the lil sister series and then couple years later reading the baby sitters club books. (I'm just thinking of childhood toys and books i used to play and read.)

Based on the comments from my classmates, the popular topics were the diving board, dollhouse, playhouse, and jungle gym.

Now i know what i would write about if i choose the diving board, however im a lil less unsure of the playhouse, dollhouse, and jungle gym.

The problem that im having is if I was to write about that what would my concept be? I can write about it, but i dont know what the reason would be? I remeber having them and playing with them. Am i making sense? I hope so.

"The light bulb is flicking" because I am starting to get a better sense of what creative nonfiction really is. Its easier to write fiction, because it is just a story, however nonfiction is tougher. It has to have a reason for telling a particular story, and that is the problem that i am having. What about this? What about that? Why? and so on. Hmmmm

Blog # 8: Experience and Reflection for my 2nd essay + ideas

Hey everyone, I hope you all had a nice Monday off =)

So I'm flipping through my journal looking for things that I noted and see whats popping out at me. I have a few things i could write about, but im not sure. I'm going to list some possible topics here and see what i can come up with.

• The time my sister and her friend played a practical joke on me which scared the living hell out of me at Fright Fest. this could be a fun topic to write about. concept of fear of things that arent real like the fright fest workers


• The time I was stuck at the top of a diving board.


• The fear, I use to have, of going down the escalators.


• My first ticket. Now im more cautious while on the road, because its like once you get pulled over you seem to be a "magnet" (concept of paranoia)


• The day my brother left for college.


• The computer game The Sims. Another favorite game I enjoyed was Tomba for playstation.


• Coffee, hey it's on my mind haha.


• The playhouse and doll house my dad built me when I was a little girl. Even though i remeber both i would probably be able to create a story out of the dollhouse one because i remeber it more vividly. P.S. i dont have them anymore....maybe along the lines of a childhood memory? (doll house)I remeber when my father was starting it and i saw the skelton of it in the garage on top of the pool table. he asked me about the colors and i remeber it was pink with a baby blue roof. the back was wide open, so i was able to play with it. i had the exact stop for it it was in the right corner near the stairs. it was three floors, the top being an attic. All the furniture and people were Playmobile and I remeber recieving different furniture set-ups for christmas and/or birthdays. The playhouse was a huge house that was in the backyard. it was light blue and white.
• The jungle gym my father built for me and my siblings that was in our backyard. I remeber being so excited that i was on the swings at 8 in the morning and mom coming outside saying what are you doing on the swings so early? there were 2 swings, a yellow slide, sandbox underneath, climbing rope (whatever its called), two ladders, actual platform to go sit and hang out in, etc.

Overall these were some of the things that i found to be exciting in my journal. As of now im not sure what i would like to write about. Coming up with concepts from these stories is what I would have to do. Im good with the actual storytelling, i just have to focus more on the reflection aspect. Ok im going to stop now because i know i'm going to come up with more ideas and overwhelm myself.

Blog # 7 Reflection of Draft Essay one

I'm glad my draft is completed, and I am proud of what I wrote so far.Even though i know some of it will change im happy to know that I have something. It was easy for me to explain what happened. I feel it might not be entirely creative nonfiction and more of an actual story. I wrote alot of thoughts and dialogue, and so I might need more actual details. I do need to come up with a title. In terms of revising I might reflect on an earlier presentation, and then the one I have, and then talk about a presentation I did not to long ago that was courageous of me to do. It would be like a timeline, but i'm not sure yet. I'm not too sure of what my next topic will be for my second essay just yet. I have some ideas flowing around in my head. Because of that i'm not sure how I am going to do my next essay.

Blog # 6 Draft of Essay 1

So here is my draft of my essay. It comes out to five pages double space. well here it is....


Sitting in the back is a little shy girl who just wants to get away. She doesn’t want to be here. She would rather be alone in her room with her books and stuffed animals. It is where she feels safe and free from worries. Unfortunately, the dream of staying home curled up with a book in the comfort of her room is just a dream. She could not stay home from school; she was forced to go. This little shy girl in the back of the classroom is scared.


Growing up, standing up for myself was hard. I was such a shy person, and therefore I was stuck in my own shell. I wanted desperately to break this shell and get out but I was afraid. Kids would tease me causing me to have low self-esteem. I didn’t understand why, I mean I have two legs, two arms, hands, feet, two eyes, two ears, a nose, and a mouth. Were they jealous of what I had? What did I have? In high school I wasn’t part of the popular crowd. I didn’t have the brand new car, designer bags, or designer clothes. I wore braces and glasses, which didn’t really make me the prettiest girl in school.


It was the first period of the day. The first class of the day always drags on because I am not fully awake. I can’t sit still nor concentrate. It doesn’t help that the class is a math class. Its not PreCalculus or Calculus but HSPA Math. I didn’t pass the Math part of the HSPA test; therefore I had to take this class to help me prepare for the second time I take it. It’s very hard to concentrate when people are constantly walking around the room monitoring the students. After class I got up from my desk, gathered my books and notebooks and headed for my locker. My locker was on the second floor, and being in a crowded school it is not that easy to get there. As I’m in the hallway walking to the end of the corridor I stop and look around. Theres a huge crowd of students everywhere. Some are yelling, laughing, and even screaming. I can’t deal with this crap, I have to get to my locker. I reach the bottom of the stairs and feel my heart beating quickly. I tell myself to relax and just get to my locker and get the books I need for my next class. I finally reach my locker and begin to turn the lock. I spin it once to the right and then around once and then to the left and pull. It didn’t open and the bell is about to ring. My teacher doesn’t tolerate lateness. I try my combination again. I know the numbers but why isn’t it working? I try one last time and I finally opened my locker. I put books on the left side and searched for my blue notebook and textbook. Good I didn’t leave them home. I shut my locker turn the lock and quickly walked to class.


Sitting in my desk in the back of the classroom, I found myself shaking and turning beat red like a tomato. I wish I could just relax but I could never be calm and relaxed. Still can’t today because I am always worried or thinking about something. My English teacher is reviewing the text from the previous class. She is reviewing the vocabulary words. It feels like she is spelling out the vocabulary words including the dash and then spelling out the definition because this seems to be taking forever. I really wish we could move on. The student next to me is busy playing with her phone while the student in front of this student is busy drawing hearts with the words “ I Love Bobby” in bubbly pink letters. In addition, the student in front of me insists on clicking his pen and tapping his foot. Boy I just wish I could take his pen right now and throw it because the constant click click click click click is driving me insane. Ok maybe it isn’t so bad but the reason im so anxious is because we have presentations to present today. Im not one to love them in fact I despise them. Presentations are tough because I don’t like standing up in front of the classroom and having 25 pairs of eyes on me, just watching, praying that I fumble a word here or there, hoping to laugh at me and point the finger with the hahahahaha your presentation stinks. Exaggerating or not I really don’t want to do this!


The classroom door looks great because the stairs are right there. I could just get up, walk out, and run down the stairs, out the door to my car and be free. But then what’s the point? If I get up everyone will see me, which would just make matters worse.


Great just great, I lost focus on my paper. I have to read this paper out loud at the front of the classroom. I really don’t want to present. Man I feel dizzy right now. Why is the room spinning? My palms are starting to become all sweaty and I swear my heart is going to pop out of my chest right about now. I can feel my face burning up and im anxiously moving about in my seat.


The teacher stands up in front of the room and begins to speak.“ Class we are going to begin our presentations today. On the scoring sheet I will rate your papers on a scale and then I will add additional comments after. I will try and give the grades back to you tomorrow or the day after. Lets begin. Any volunteers?”


This is it, like mom always said volunteer and go first and get it over with. I swear I heard two pins drop because no one is making a sound or moving. Do I do it? Or do I wait. Oh what the heck just go, and so I could sit back and watch the others. If I go now I can sit and watch twenty- four other students go. BAM! My hand shoots up. I must get this over with I must go now. If I don’t I feel worse as the presentations go on. Please call on me please call on me. I must go first I have to! Any volunteers? Oh perfect go ahead……


My two legs feel like jello as im walking up to the front of the classroom ready to present. I can’t even tell you how many different thoughts are going through my head right now. I don’t want to mess this up and I also don’t want to be up here forever reading about some topic im not to interested in. It is bad enough the paper is flimsy, and I hope I don’t drop it. Why is that they always say take a deep breath before you talk? It really isn’t easy to do when your heart is beating at fifty miles per hour. I try anyway to ease my nerves so I can just read and go. I know dam well the only person in this room who truly cares is the teacher. The students in the class are day dreaming about other exciting things such as the football game on Friday, lunch, gym, the latest music video from The Backstreet Boys, the new girl’s Mercedes, whose dating who,etc.


I know im nervous but I hope my voice doesn’t give off that perception. I barely make eye contact as im trying to focus on my essay. RING RING RING RING I say to myself,are you kidding me? The classroom phone has to ring now? Oh I wonder whose in trouble now. I pause for a second as the teacher gets up and proceeds to answer the phone. My hands are still shaking. The words on the paper are moving. I can’t go on with this. I just can’t. I want to quit. I want to quit. She informs one of the students that they are being called to the principal’s office, and so they get up and walk out the door. Im so jealous they get to leave I wish I could to, but hey I am almost done and no one has died or gotten hurt yet, I must be doing an ok job. After the teacher sat back down, she adjusted her sweater, picked up her pen and signaled for me to continue. I say five more words and then the principal comes over the loud speaker. "Attention Attention, all faculty, there will be a staff meeting at 2:45 pm today." The phone and loudspeaker are interrupting me and it is bad enough I have to stand up here.


I finally reach the last paragraph. I finish the last sentence and look up and see and hear the applause, and the teacher telling me good job. Thank you for going first. Thank you for going first, thank you for going first, thank you for going first are the words that are stuck in my head. I cannot believe it, I volunteered to go first and I survived. The teacher took notice of that and thanked me for volunteering me to go first. That was the boost of confidence I needed. The recognition of me volunteering to go first. Words cannot explain how I felt as I walked the back of the classroom and sat down. My heart was still beating but this time it was beating because it was over with. I did it. I was acknowledged for going first. I presented. I did it!


The next day, my teacher gave us back the score sheets. At the bottom of the paper, next to the word comments, were the words “That was very good. I appreciate you going first. It took a lot of guts and confidence. Good job!”


Thinking back to this moment, I realized how far I came. I hated getting up in front of the classroom and presenting because I was afraid of rejection. I was afraid that I would be booed and or mess up. I was a shy person afraid to speak. I was afraid to make a sound. I wasn’t popular. I didn’t have the fancy car or the hottest boyfriend. I was into school. My shell was broken. I was a senior sitting in my senior English class about to graduate in a few months. Freedom from highschool. No more cliques. Soon ill be commuting to Kean, college, wow. And I thought high school was a “big people school”. I learned to just volunteer and get it over with. Go first. Stand out. Public speaking? No big deal, can I go now? i am not afraid anymore. I want to present. Now I enjoy being outgoing and talkative. It is more fun and exciting. By being enclosed in a hard shell I missed out, but hey that is why today I am the way I am. I’m sure there are people who would just wish I would stay quiet for a few, but hey thanks to my presentation in English class, senior year of highschool, I have confidence. Confidence is in all of us whether we know it or not. It takes someone to tell us we have it even if it is not directly stated. The days of being a shy little girl are no longer with me, and I wish I could go back and tell that little girl that it is ok one day you will grow up and realize there is no point in being shy for it will get you no where. Hey I do want to become a teacher one day and therefore I will be constantly in the front of the room talking all day. Also not to mention back to school nights, parent teacher conferences, and also faculty meetings. On that note, can I get a cup of coffee and a presentation please?….