Writing Process of Don’t Cry
Before I made the decision to write it I thought to myself I will never write about that to an entire class of strangers.
I was given the assignment to write a personal essay in my creative nonfiction class. At first we were asked to make a two lists one of things we would like to write about and others that we would never write about. At first the subject of my father in Don’t Cry was put under my list of things that I would never write about. I thought about why I would never write about my father’s death. I realized that I have a hard time dealing with tragedies in my life and an even harder time talking about them. I made a decision at that moment that I should share my experience. I didn’t want people to judge me and that was my biggest fear. I hate the whole pity party thing. When I thought about it a little more I realized that other people might be dealing with the same things I went through. My personal essay might even help them deal with their grief; how cool would that be?
Every time I did a prewriting activity in class I got more nervous about the project I was going to take on. I sat in my bed one night before I wrote the essay and I decided to clean out my documents on my laptop. I came across something that I didn’t even remember writing. It was a description about the day of my father’s funeral. I have to admit when I read it I became a little emotional, but then I realized that this is it. These few little paragraphs I wrote a couple of years ago is going to pull me back into that time and those feelings I had so long ago. I even incorporated some of those paragraphs I wrote so long ago into my essay.
When I sat up last night, in my bed and I couldn’t help but imagine the daunting day ahead of me. I went through my itinerary over and over again in my head. The night dragged on. I pulled myself out of bed and slumped over to my computer. I have to write something for him, something special. I wrote about my Dad’s personality and of course our main bond the Pittsburgh Steelers.
I began talking to myself. “Okay Gina, you can do this. You can do this.” I still hadn’t cried. I hesitantly strolled over to my brother Louis’s room. I stared at the closed door for what seemed to be an hour but was only a few seconds. I prepared to knock, clenched my hand in a fist and then released it. “Come on Gina, take a deep breath.” I clenched my fist for a second time and tapped on the door. “Yeah?” He sounded so tired. “Louis we have to leave soon are you almost ready?” The door opened. My brother walked out in a suit. He was never ready before my mother and me.
I knew after I got passed the nervousness of actually having to write the essay I could dive into writing it. I began to think. What should people learn about me in this piece? What can they learn about themselves? I wrote my fist draft with feeling. I didn’t think too much about how I wanted to organize my essay. All I knew was at first I wanted to talk about the super bowl my dad and I shared and at the end I wanted to talk about the super bowl my father missed. I thought that this would be a way to show that life goes on without the one that you lost. I also thought that it would give readers the image of me coming full circle.
After rereading my first draft I don’t know if that was the best idea for organization. It worked with tying the whole piece together but I don’t know if it supported my focus. The focus of not dealing with my grief was lost in the essay. At first I really didn’t want to change anything in my essay. I’m really stubborn and I would say that I get that from my dad too. I was just worried that if I changed something my essay wouldn’t be from my heart anymore. I really felt like I put everything that I had into that first draft. I decided to let it sit for a few weeks so that I could clear my head.
I then had to write a second draft. When I was writing my second draft I think that I kind of got lost. I was so concerned about organizing it I think that it kind of scared me to the point of me completely messing up my essay. I organized my essay beginning with the wrestling match between my brother and me. Then followed the funeral and after that the Steelers super bowl that I shared with my father. Finally, I ended with the Steelers super bowl that my father was absent from. When I reread my essay I found that no one would tell when I dealt with my emotions. I wanted to scream. This was so frustrating to me. After I realized that the entire point of the essay was now gone to readers I got scared. I decided once again to let my essay sit for a few weeks.
After realizing that I really was not happy with what I wrote I decided to write my essay once again. I knew I needed to reorganize my entire essay. I really liked the idea of starting with the wrestling match so I decided to keep that. Then, I discussed the Steelers game that I shared with my father. I really wanted the Steelers thing to come into play sooner. Next I added a small section about my father telling me he had cancer, and then I went into the funeral. I kept the ending with the most current Steelers super bowl that I had to go through without my dad.
I feel that this final version of my personal essay is the best out of the three that I have written. I think that now the reader can fully understand what I have gone through and apply it to their life and their experiences.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Brainstorming Blog 18
Brainstorming
After writing about my father's death in the first peice, I've realized that there is no limit to my writing. I definately think that I will journal more and I think that when I go through other hard times it would be benificial not only to me but to others as well. I would like to write about some of my experiances wether they are good or bad that have happened in my life.
I would really like to work on my organization. It's hard for me sometimes when I get really into my writing. I just keep on going and writing more and more without realizing where I am going. I probably should do more prewriting maybe something like an outline would help me more.
At the moment I don't really have any plans for continuing my writing. Maybe after my student teaching is finished and I get settled in my career I will have more time to focus on my writing and where it can take me.
I will use writing in my profession all the time. Since I will be a teacher I will be constantly writing to perents and administrators. As far as creative writing goes I would probably have to do something on my own. I would love to start a club with my students and share my writing as well as read what they write in their own time.
I really loved doing the personal essay. I would love to write more of those for myself. Who knows maybe after I wrote about them I would decide to persue getting them published. As for now I would really like to write about my experiances and what I have gone through in my life thus far.
As of now I don't really have plans of publishing. My life is so crazy right now I don't think that I have time to work on a piece for a long time in order to get it published. I would love to write after I become more comfortable in my career. Then I would have time to focus on it.
For my personal essay I really thought that i was just writing it for this class. Now I really feel like I should share that piece with my brother and my mother. I think it will benifit them with helping them deal with tehir grief and I also think that it will help them to understand me more.
After writing about my father's death in the first peice, I've realized that there is no limit to my writing. I definately think that I will journal more and I think that when I go through other hard times it would be benificial not only to me but to others as well. I would like to write about some of my experiances wether they are good or bad that have happened in my life.
I would really like to work on my organization. It's hard for me sometimes when I get really into my writing. I just keep on going and writing more and more without realizing where I am going. I probably should do more prewriting maybe something like an outline would help me more.
At the moment I don't really have any plans for continuing my writing. Maybe after my student teaching is finished and I get settled in my career I will have more time to focus on my writing and where it can take me.
I will use writing in my profession all the time. Since I will be a teacher I will be constantly writing to perents and administrators. As far as creative writing goes I would probably have to do something on my own. I would love to start a club with my students and share my writing as well as read what they write in their own time.
I really loved doing the personal essay. I would love to write more of those for myself. Who knows maybe after I wrote about them I would decide to persue getting them published. As for now I would really like to write about my experiances and what I have gone through in my life thus far.
As of now I don't really have plans of publishing. My life is so crazy right now I don't think that I have time to work on a piece for a long time in order to get it published. I would love to write after I become more comfortable in my career. Then I would have time to focus on it.
For my personal essay I really thought that i was just writing it for this class. Now I really feel like I should share that piece with my brother and my mother. I think it will benifit them with helping them deal with tehir grief and I also think that it will help them to understand me more.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Blog 15
how did I start?
I started by sitting down and thinking about what would be a good topic. That was when I decided I wanted to write about my father.
when did I figure out my focus?
I figured out my focus after I wrote my first draft and had someone else read it.
what did I leave out? what did I change? what did I emphasize?
I left out details that were insignificant to my story. I didn't really change anything at all. I emphasized my father's personality and how mine matches his.
where did I get stuck and how did I get unstuck?
I got stuck a few times on the organization. I had to keep playing with it until finally a found a way for it to work.
what were my major revisions?
My major revisions came when I changed the order of my entire essay.
how did my life (not on the page) affect my writing process?
Talking to my mom and my brother helped with a few things. My brother did not remember a lot of the stuff that happened.
where and when did I write my best? what time?
I write my best at night with my laptop in my bed.
what writing rituals did I engage in?
I have the TV turned on but the volume turned down to low... I have to also go to the bathroom before I start because nothing is worse then having an idea and loosing it because you went to the bathroom.
how did I use thinking, talking and writing to develop my paper?
I always start by thinking out my idea. Then I begin to write and I get all of my ideas organized. Lastly I talk to people and I get their opinions and feeelings on my work.
how did I know when I was finished and how did I decide where to start?
I actually still do not think that I am finished. I decided where to start when I thought more about my organization.
I started by sitting down and thinking about what would be a good topic. That was when I decided I wanted to write about my father.
when did I figure out my focus?
I figured out my focus after I wrote my first draft and had someone else read it.
what did I leave out? what did I change? what did I emphasize?
I left out details that were insignificant to my story. I didn't really change anything at all. I emphasized my father's personality and how mine matches his.
where did I get stuck and how did I get unstuck?
I got stuck a few times on the organization. I had to keep playing with it until finally a found a way for it to work.
what were my major revisions?
My major revisions came when I changed the order of my entire essay.
how did my life (not on the page) affect my writing process?
Talking to my mom and my brother helped with a few things. My brother did not remember a lot of the stuff that happened.
where and when did I write my best? what time?
I write my best at night with my laptop in my bed.
what writing rituals did I engage in?
I have the TV turned on but the volume turned down to low... I have to also go to the bathroom before I start because nothing is worse then having an idea and loosing it because you went to the bathroom.
how did I use thinking, talking and writing to develop my paper?
I always start by thinking out my idea. Then I begin to write and I get all of my ideas organized. Lastly I talk to people and I get their opinions and feeelings on my work.
how did I know when I was finished and how did I decide where to start?
I actually still do not think that I am finished. I decided where to start when I thought more about my organization.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Blog 14 - Composing Process
1-Free Write/Thinking- Sit and think about your topic and where you should go with it. Think or write about the possible angles you can take on your peice.
2-Brainstorm- Organize your thoughts into a clear form. This will help you not to loose track of your focus and remember your ideas.
*Web
*Outling
*Map
3-Rough Draft Compose ideas into a rough draft.
4- Edit and Revise
-Reread your work and edit it for content and grammar. Also have others read your peice to do the same.
5- Final Draft
-Using all the prewriting and editing formulate a final draft you are confident with.
2-Brainstorm- Organize your thoughts into a clear form. This will help you not to loose track of your focus and remember your ideas.
*Web
*Outling
*Map
3-Rough Draft Compose ideas into a rough draft.
4- Edit and Revise
-Reread your work and edit it for content and grammar. Also have others read your peice to do the same.
5- Final Draft
-Using all the prewriting and editing formulate a final draft you are confident with.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Blog 12 RHETORICAL ANALYSIS OF PUBLICATION VENUES
RHETORICAL ANALYSIS OF PUBLICATION VENUES
1. Analysis of the editorial description of essays accepted
Toasted Cheese ( http://www.toasted-cheese.com/ezine.htm ) is an online literary journal that focuses on flash fiction, fiction, creative non-fiction, and poetry. Toasted Cheese accepts work that is unpublished. The maximum words for fiction and creative nonfiction is 5000 words; flash fiction is 500.
Reading Periods:
· March Issue: Oct. 1- Dec. 1
· June Issue: Jan. 1- March 1
· Sept. Issue: April 1- June 30
· Dec. Issue: July 1- Sept. 30
2. Description of several representative essays published in your venue;
Sample essays=Online Ezine
Epilogue: Lindsay Tang
My Grandfather's Ear: Linda C. Wisniewski
Tractor: Jacoba Mendelkow
This Teacher Talks Too Damn Fast: Megan Stielstra
Subject matter= There are many different subject matters. They do not limit the subject of the work that they accept. Even though they do not have a specific subject matter they have contests that asks for submissions on certain topics and award first through fourth place. The last contest subject was mystery and you only had 48 hours to write it. They gave Amazon gift certificates for prizes ranging from $20-$10.
Voice: The essays that are accepted have a storytelling voice. When they are read the personality of the writer is completely comprehended. They also discuss and refer to specific current issues and media.
Depth of discussion: Some of the pieces are fun and others have more depth. The works that are more based on fun are still extremely creative and well thought out.
Form (modes of writing/experimental) description, narration, dialog - values techniques from fiction; values the experimental (see artistry)
Artistry: I would say that there is a high level of artistry. The contests are very creative. They even have writing prompts posted for the public’s enjoyment. Toasted Cheese encourages writer’s artistry by giving them the tools to write.
Length: The maximum is 5000 words.
3. Niche
Audience – I believe that the audience is mostly those involved in the literature field. I don’t think this because of complex language or things of that nature, but this is evident because the site is geared to help writers grow in their field.
Purpose – Publish work of the most talented writers not those with the most credentials.
4. Other
· Submissions are accepted through email.
· They will reply by the 15th of the month following your submission date.
· They do not mention pay.
· They require a cover letter and a short biography (100 words)
· They accept about 5% of the submissions that they receive.
1. Analysis of the editorial description of essays accepted
Toasted Cheese ( http://www.toasted-cheese.com/ezine.htm ) is an online literary journal that focuses on flash fiction, fiction, creative non-fiction, and poetry. Toasted Cheese accepts work that is unpublished. The maximum words for fiction and creative nonfiction is 5000 words; flash fiction is 500.
Reading Periods:
· March Issue: Oct. 1- Dec. 1
· June Issue: Jan. 1- March 1
· Sept. Issue: April 1- June 30
· Dec. Issue: July 1- Sept. 30
2. Description of several representative essays published in your venue;
Sample essays=Online Ezine
Epilogue: Lindsay Tang
My Grandfather's Ear: Linda C. Wisniewski
Tractor: Jacoba Mendelkow
This Teacher Talks Too Damn Fast: Megan Stielstra
Subject matter= There are many different subject matters. They do not limit the subject of the work that they accept. Even though they do not have a specific subject matter they have contests that asks for submissions on certain topics and award first through fourth place. The last contest subject was mystery and you only had 48 hours to write it. They gave Amazon gift certificates for prizes ranging from $20-$10.
Voice: The essays that are accepted have a storytelling voice. When they are read the personality of the writer is completely comprehended. They also discuss and refer to specific current issues and media.
Depth of discussion: Some of the pieces are fun and others have more depth. The works that are more based on fun are still extremely creative and well thought out.
Form (modes of writing/experimental) description, narration, dialog - values techniques from fiction; values the experimental (see artistry)
Artistry: I would say that there is a high level of artistry. The contests are very creative. They even have writing prompts posted for the public’s enjoyment. Toasted Cheese encourages writer’s artistry by giving them the tools to write.
Length: The maximum is 5000 words.
3. Niche
Audience – I believe that the audience is mostly those involved in the literature field. I don’t think this because of complex language or things of that nature, but this is evident because the site is geared to help writers grow in their field.
Purpose – Publish work of the most talented writers not those with the most credentials.
4. Other
· Submissions are accepted through email.
· They will reply by the 15th of the month following your submission date.
· They do not mention pay.
· They require a cover letter and a short biography (100 words)
· They accept about 5% of the submissions that they receive.
Monday, November 5, 2007
Blog 11
Don’t Cry
My brother glared at me, giggled and then put me into a headlock. I loved to compete with my brother, Louis. I just wanted to be one of the boys. Whatever Louis did I wanted to do it even better. We would watch wrestling and play outside. Louis and I even used to stage wrestling matches between each other. Louis is fourteen months older than I but I still felt like I could compete. We would both start in a corner and we would begin on our knees. The fights grew intense and sometimes my dog, Jax would try to protect me from Louis. Jax would wedge his way in between the two of us then get on top of my brother and growl. Sometimes Louis would catch me in a bad spot or I would get hurt and I would start to cry. My dad would come down the steps and say, “Gina, don’t wrestle with Louis if you can’t handle it. Don’t cry just fight back.” I didn’t understand why my dad said this. I thought my brother should be punished but in turn I got yelled at. Louis would smirk at me and that always made my anger boil. I got angry and tackled my brother onto the soft green carpet. Of course, after a struggle he ended up pinning me down again and I grunted with frustration. He was just stronger then me and I couldn’t face that.
When I sat up last night in my bed I couldn’t help but imagine the daunting day ahead of me. I went through my itinerary over and over again in my head. The night dragged on. I pulled myself out of bed and slumped over to my computer. I have to write something for him, something special. I wrote about my Dad’s personality and of course our main bond the Pittsburgh Steelers. My mom knocked on the door and said that I better start getting ready. I began talking to myself. “Okay Gina, you can do this. You can do this.” I still hadn’t cried. I hesitantly strolled over to my brother Louis’s room. I stared at the closed door for what seemed to be an hour but was only a few seconds. I prepared to knock, clenched my hand in a fist and then released it. “Come on Gina, take a deep breath.” I clenched my fist for a second time and tapped on the door. “Yeah?” He sounded so tired. “Louis we have to leave soon are you almost ready?” The door opened. My brother walked out in a suit. He was never ready before my mother and I.
Louis drove my mother and I to the funeral home. The car ride seemed to have only lasted a few seconds. No one spoke. My brother got out of the car and proceeded to walk. I took a deep breath and opened my mother’s door. Everyone was looking at us. I’ll never forget how everyone looked at us. They cried and expected us to bawl. Everyone’s eyes were scrolling our faces trying to read how we were feeling. I thought to myself a lot that day. Stop looking at me; I’m ok just stop looking at me.
At the cemetery everyone was still studying my family. My mom already had her moments in the church and at the wake. She let some of it out but she even told me herself that she didn’t want to show her emotion. My brother still hadn’t cried so I wasn’t going to. We made it past the funeral without a tear. When I tried to fall asleep that night I cried, but it was okay because no one knew. I knew that my brother was in the next room doing the same thing. I looked at the wall between my brother’s room and mine. I wanted to pick up one of the walkie-talkies we used to use as kids and ask him if he was awake. My brother and I were always close even when we were arguing.
I looked at a picture of my mom, dad, brother, and I cried. My dad stood there so strong. His shoulders were wide; he was built like a bulldog. By just a quick look you’d see that he had curly hair, bushy eyebrows, and tan skin. I held the picture close and took a breath in I still could smell his musk deodorant. I could still feel the hugs and how my arms never fit around his muscles. I closed my eyes and saw his eyes looking back at me. They were hazel just like mine. Even with such a rough exterior my father’s smile was genuine and warming. Maybe Louis knows what I’m going through. We always went through everything together.
I was slumped on the couch surrounded by my usual Sunday football fans. We laughed and poked fun at each other’s teams. Until, an unfamiliar face walked in. He noticed my jersey and asked me why I would ever be a Pittsburgh fan. I explained that my father was a Pittsburgh fan and I was Daddy’s little girl so I jumped on the Steelers bus at a young age. I took a breath and I began to tell them a story about my father.
I was twelve years old and the most excited I’ve ever been in my short-lived life. That morning I ran down the steps. On the way down I got a robust whiff. I knew my dad was making omelets. This must have been a special occasion because my Dad usually only made his omelets on Christmas morning. After breakfast I followed my dad outside. He sat down on one of the rocking chairs on our front porch with the family dog, Jax. Jax was a boxer and did not like strangers. If anyone else besides my father took him outside without a leash he would be gone in a second chasing after something. My dad had a special way with animals. He was wearing a loose fitting Steelers sweatshirt, his usual jeans, and a Pittsburgh hat. He pulled out a cigar lit it and sat back in the chair. He rocked and studied the scenery. My father didn’t believe in talking when it wasn’t necessary. I looked at him as I sat cross-legged on the concrete porch. “Dad do you think Pittsburgh’s going to win?” He blew out smoke looked down at me and said, “I don’t know Gina” as he rubbed his hand on his forehead. My dad rarely took off of work, not even for holidays. This was big. I went back inside and began to help my mother clean and set up the food for the game. My dad never liked to order take out. He believed strongly in not wasting money on eating out all the time. That day we actually had subs, pasta dishes, potato salad, and wings all from restaurants.
As the game began my heart pounded. My father had a few superstitions. One was when the opposing team was going for a field goal you’d stick out your pinky and pointer finger on both hands with all the others down. My dad would pick a side for the ball to go to and aim his fingers that way. Most of the time it actually worked and my brother and I swore that it was sacred. We called it a jinx. The Steelers lost to the Cowboys that day 27-17. I yelled at the TV but my Dad didn’t really say too much towards the end of the game. He would yell but then he’d walk out of the room to yell even louder. He wouldn’t even answer the phone. The game took over all of his emotions.
After sharing my memory with everyone there they returned to watching the football game. As I sat there staring at the screen I couldn’t help it that my mind wondered. I stared blankly into the illuminated screen and relived the hardest time of my life in my head. I wished my Dad could have been there with me when the Steelers pulled out the big win.
My heart was pounding; it was a week away. I was so anxious, but prepared. I knew what was coming. This was something that I’ve have looked forward to since I was a little girl. That day I went to Party City. I stocked up on black and yellow plates, napkins, cups, utensils, and decorations. I had my whole outfit picked out. Even though my outfit was ready I think I must have changed it about fifty times. I don’t understand now what the difference is between one jersey and another but at the time it really mattered.
The day of the Super bowl I woke up at seven o’clock in the morning. Needless to say everyone in my house thought I was crazy for setting up so early. My mom helped me with the food preparations. I got subs, wings, salads, burgers, and everything else I could think of. My boyfriend and my brother helped me set up balloons and streamers. My heart was pounding I walked out of the room and took a breath as I walked back in the room was overtaken with black and yellow. My boyfriend sat on the couch watching the pre-game while I ran around. He told me to relax, but when he says that it never seems to register. After the downstairs was all set up I went upstairs to start getting ready. My hair was not working that day. I must have sat in front of the mirror for two hours. I’m not one of those girls that take two hours just to get her hair done, but today was special.
As my guests started to arrive, I was still running around my mom’s house. Everyone was busting my chops saying that Pittsburgh was going to loose. I didn’t really listen to them. They even ended up taking bets with each other on who was going to win and by how much. This, I have to admit ticked me off, but hey what can you do. Most of my friends and family members were seated on a large brown sectional couch in front of the big screen TV. We had bar stools set up behind it like stadium seating. There is also a bar on the wall cornered from the TV that some were sitting at. My seat was a folding chair about one foot from the television. I was ready and it was time for the coin toss.
My heart was pounding come on Pittsburgh! We won the coin toss I screamed and cheered. My friends all looked at me as if I were crazy. My yellow and black Pittsburgh hat was pulled down low on my forehead. I was focused ready to have a good game. I smeared black eyeliner about an inch underneath my eyes just like the players do. My jersey was worn proud. I even had Pittsburgh socks on. I waved my towel in the air even before the kickoff began. My friends and family all sat relaxed with beers in their hand. The game took over all of my emotions. Steelers 21; Seahawks 10! As the players began to talk at celebrate with the Vince Lombardi Trophy. I pulled on my hat and I started to cry in front of everyone. My boyfriend game me a big hug and even he started to tear. I looked over at my mom and gave her a hug tighter then I ever have before. She was crying too. I whispered in her ear, “he should’ve been here” she replied, “I know”. I looked over at my brother and he sat there emotionless. I knew he didn’t make my journey yet. He would let it out when he least expected. I let it out two years after my father passed away; my brother would have to just wait for it to hit him.
My brother glared at me, giggled and then put me into a headlock. I loved to compete with my brother, Louis. I just wanted to be one of the boys. Whatever Louis did I wanted to do it even better. We would watch wrestling and play outside. Louis and I even used to stage wrestling matches between each other. Louis is fourteen months older than I but I still felt like I could compete. We would both start in a corner and we would begin on our knees. The fights grew intense and sometimes my dog, Jax would try to protect me from Louis. Jax would wedge his way in between the two of us then get on top of my brother and growl. Sometimes Louis would catch me in a bad spot or I would get hurt and I would start to cry. My dad would come down the steps and say, “Gina, don’t wrestle with Louis if you can’t handle it. Don’t cry just fight back.” I didn’t understand why my dad said this. I thought my brother should be punished but in turn I got yelled at. Louis would smirk at me and that always made my anger boil. I got angry and tackled my brother onto the soft green carpet. Of course, after a struggle he ended up pinning me down again and I grunted with frustration. He was just stronger then me and I couldn’t face that.
When I sat up last night in my bed I couldn’t help but imagine the daunting day ahead of me. I went through my itinerary over and over again in my head. The night dragged on. I pulled myself out of bed and slumped over to my computer. I have to write something for him, something special. I wrote about my Dad’s personality and of course our main bond the Pittsburgh Steelers. My mom knocked on the door and said that I better start getting ready. I began talking to myself. “Okay Gina, you can do this. You can do this.” I still hadn’t cried. I hesitantly strolled over to my brother Louis’s room. I stared at the closed door for what seemed to be an hour but was only a few seconds. I prepared to knock, clenched my hand in a fist and then released it. “Come on Gina, take a deep breath.” I clenched my fist for a second time and tapped on the door. “Yeah?” He sounded so tired. “Louis we have to leave soon are you almost ready?” The door opened. My brother walked out in a suit. He was never ready before my mother and I.
Louis drove my mother and I to the funeral home. The car ride seemed to have only lasted a few seconds. No one spoke. My brother got out of the car and proceeded to walk. I took a deep breath and opened my mother’s door. Everyone was looking at us. I’ll never forget how everyone looked at us. They cried and expected us to bawl. Everyone’s eyes were scrolling our faces trying to read how we were feeling. I thought to myself a lot that day. Stop looking at me; I’m ok just stop looking at me.
At the cemetery everyone was still studying my family. My mom already had her moments in the church and at the wake. She let some of it out but she even told me herself that she didn’t want to show her emotion. My brother still hadn’t cried so I wasn’t going to. We made it past the funeral without a tear. When I tried to fall asleep that night I cried, but it was okay because no one knew. I knew that my brother was in the next room doing the same thing. I looked at the wall between my brother’s room and mine. I wanted to pick up one of the walkie-talkies we used to use as kids and ask him if he was awake. My brother and I were always close even when we were arguing.
I looked at a picture of my mom, dad, brother, and I cried. My dad stood there so strong. His shoulders were wide; he was built like a bulldog. By just a quick look you’d see that he had curly hair, bushy eyebrows, and tan skin. I held the picture close and took a breath in I still could smell his musk deodorant. I could still feel the hugs and how my arms never fit around his muscles. I closed my eyes and saw his eyes looking back at me. They were hazel just like mine. Even with such a rough exterior my father’s smile was genuine and warming. Maybe Louis knows what I’m going through. We always went through everything together.
I was slumped on the couch surrounded by my usual Sunday football fans. We laughed and poked fun at each other’s teams. Until, an unfamiliar face walked in. He noticed my jersey and asked me why I would ever be a Pittsburgh fan. I explained that my father was a Pittsburgh fan and I was Daddy’s little girl so I jumped on the Steelers bus at a young age. I took a breath and I began to tell them a story about my father.
I was twelve years old and the most excited I’ve ever been in my short-lived life. That morning I ran down the steps. On the way down I got a robust whiff. I knew my dad was making omelets. This must have been a special occasion because my Dad usually only made his omelets on Christmas morning. After breakfast I followed my dad outside. He sat down on one of the rocking chairs on our front porch with the family dog, Jax. Jax was a boxer and did not like strangers. If anyone else besides my father took him outside without a leash he would be gone in a second chasing after something. My dad had a special way with animals. He was wearing a loose fitting Steelers sweatshirt, his usual jeans, and a Pittsburgh hat. He pulled out a cigar lit it and sat back in the chair. He rocked and studied the scenery. My father didn’t believe in talking when it wasn’t necessary. I looked at him as I sat cross-legged on the concrete porch. “Dad do you think Pittsburgh’s going to win?” He blew out smoke looked down at me and said, “I don’t know Gina” as he rubbed his hand on his forehead. My dad rarely took off of work, not even for holidays. This was big. I went back inside and began to help my mother clean and set up the food for the game. My dad never liked to order take out. He believed strongly in not wasting money on eating out all the time. That day we actually had subs, pasta dishes, potato salad, and wings all from restaurants.
As the game began my heart pounded. My father had a few superstitions. One was when the opposing team was going for a field goal you’d stick out your pinky and pointer finger on both hands with all the others down. My dad would pick a side for the ball to go to and aim his fingers that way. Most of the time it actually worked and my brother and I swore that it was sacred. We called it a jinx. The Steelers lost to the Cowboys that day 27-17. I yelled at the TV but my Dad didn’t really say too much towards the end of the game. He would yell but then he’d walk out of the room to yell even louder. He wouldn’t even answer the phone. The game took over all of his emotions.
After sharing my memory with everyone there they returned to watching the football game. As I sat there staring at the screen I couldn’t help it that my mind wondered. I stared blankly into the illuminated screen and relived the hardest time of my life in my head. I wished my Dad could have been there with me when the Steelers pulled out the big win.
My heart was pounding; it was a week away. I was so anxious, but prepared. I knew what was coming. This was something that I’ve have looked forward to since I was a little girl. That day I went to Party City. I stocked up on black and yellow plates, napkins, cups, utensils, and decorations. I had my whole outfit picked out. Even though my outfit was ready I think I must have changed it about fifty times. I don’t understand now what the difference is between one jersey and another but at the time it really mattered.
The day of the Super bowl I woke up at seven o’clock in the morning. Needless to say everyone in my house thought I was crazy for setting up so early. My mom helped me with the food preparations. I got subs, wings, salads, burgers, and everything else I could think of. My boyfriend and my brother helped me set up balloons and streamers. My heart was pounding I walked out of the room and took a breath as I walked back in the room was overtaken with black and yellow. My boyfriend sat on the couch watching the pre-game while I ran around. He told me to relax, but when he says that it never seems to register. After the downstairs was all set up I went upstairs to start getting ready. My hair was not working that day. I must have sat in front of the mirror for two hours. I’m not one of those girls that take two hours just to get her hair done, but today was special.
As my guests started to arrive, I was still running around my mom’s house. Everyone was busting my chops saying that Pittsburgh was going to loose. I didn’t really listen to them. They even ended up taking bets with each other on who was going to win and by how much. This, I have to admit ticked me off, but hey what can you do. Most of my friends and family members were seated on a large brown sectional couch in front of the big screen TV. We had bar stools set up behind it like stadium seating. There is also a bar on the wall cornered from the TV that some were sitting at. My seat was a folding chair about one foot from the television. I was ready and it was time for the coin toss.
My heart was pounding come on Pittsburgh! We won the coin toss I screamed and cheered. My friends all looked at me as if I were crazy. My yellow and black Pittsburgh hat was pulled down low on my forehead. I was focused ready to have a good game. I smeared black eyeliner about an inch underneath my eyes just like the players do. My jersey was worn proud. I even had Pittsburgh socks on. I waved my towel in the air even before the kickoff began. My friends and family all sat relaxed with beers in their hand. The game took over all of my emotions. Steelers 21; Seahawks 10! As the players began to talk at celebrate with the Vince Lombardi Trophy. I pulled on my hat and I started to cry in front of everyone. My boyfriend game me a big hug and even he started to tear. I looked over at my mom and gave her a hug tighter then I ever have before. She was crying too. I whispered in her ear, “he should’ve been here” she replied, “I know”. I looked over at my brother and he sat there emotionless. I knew he didn’t make my journey yet. He would let it out when he least expected. I let it out two years after my father passed away; my brother would have to just wait for it to hit him.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Blog 10
I’m still not convinced about the whole nature-writing concept. Hopefully what I’m writing makes sense and gets the point across. I gave a little non-descriptive info in the beginning to help you guys understand it better then I will add my descriptions. Thanks….
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Everyday with my brother was a new adventure. We’d wake up at 7:00 in the morning on the weekends. We would be so angry that we had to wait for my mother to get up in order to start our day. My mother usually got up around 8:00 and even though we’d only be waiting an hour it seemed like it was Christmas morning and we couldn’t wait to open our gifts, but everyday and we just couldn’t wait to go outside.
Behind our house there was a clearing in the thick brush. We used to leave salt licks and apples out for the deer to feast. As we walked through the trees our feet crinkled the leaves and sticks beneath our feet. My brother always led the way through the woods and I would follow. My brother Louis was always protective of me back then. He would help me past whatever we needed to get to his favorite spots. We trampled down a rocky steep hill until we finally reached the creek. The creek was small and barely had any water in it but it was exciting to us. We would observe everything we could even down to the earthworms we would dig up and release.
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My mom finally let us explore further. My brother and I rode our bikes to a nearby street with a dead end. My brother got off his bike and explained he’s been here before. My brother was never one to follow rules. At the dead end there was a narrow path between the maple trees. My brother heads off the path and I follow him. The brush is thick and there is an old abandoned car ahead. It is red and covered in multicolored leaves and spider webs. My brother wants to go closer, but I encourage him to keep walking. After he throws a couple of rocks that crash into the car he is ready to keep walking.
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We head down a hill that is even steeper then the one in our backyard. My brother tells me to hold on to the saplings as I walk slowly down the hill. Once we reach the bottom there is a huge stream. I couldn’t believe my eyes. My brother gave out a laugh and ran into the water. I quickly followed him and started picking up the smooth rocks. The water was constantly moving so the rocks were almost as smooth as sea glass. My brother picked up a weird looking that that almost looked like a lobster. He told me it was a crayfish and he threw it into our bucket. It was a light transparent orange and it kept wiggling around. My brother threw another one into the bucket and kept heading down the stream stepping on rocks.
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Everyday with my brother was a new adventure. We’d wake up at 7:00 in the morning on the weekends. We would be so angry that we had to wait for my mother to get up in order to start our day. My mother usually got up around 8:00 and even though we’d only be waiting an hour it seemed like it was Christmas morning and we couldn’t wait to open our gifts, but everyday and we just couldn’t wait to go outside.
Behind our house there was a clearing in the thick brush. We used to leave salt licks and apples out for the deer to feast. As we walked through the trees our feet crinkled the leaves and sticks beneath our feet. My brother always led the way through the woods and I would follow. My brother Louis was always protective of me back then. He would help me past whatever we needed to get to his favorite spots. We trampled down a rocky steep hill until we finally reached the creek. The creek was small and barely had any water in it but it was exciting to us. We would observe everything we could even down to the earthworms we would dig up and release.
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My mom finally let us explore further. My brother and I rode our bikes to a nearby street with a dead end. My brother got off his bike and explained he’s been here before. My brother was never one to follow rules. At the dead end there was a narrow path between the maple trees. My brother heads off the path and I follow him. The brush is thick and there is an old abandoned car ahead. It is red and covered in multicolored leaves and spider webs. My brother wants to go closer, but I encourage him to keep walking. After he throws a couple of rocks that crash into the car he is ready to keep walking.
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We head down a hill that is even steeper then the one in our backyard. My brother tells me to hold on to the saplings as I walk slowly down the hill. Once we reach the bottom there is a huge stream. I couldn’t believe my eyes. My brother gave out a laugh and ran into the water. I quickly followed him and started picking up the smooth rocks. The water was constantly moving so the rocks were almost as smooth as sea glass. My brother picked up a weird looking that that almost looked like a lobster. He told me it was a crayfish and he threw it into our bucket. It was a light transparent orange and it kept wiggling around. My brother threw another one into the bucket and kept heading down the stream stepping on rocks.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Blog 9 Nature Writing
Racoon
Two beety little eyes peer out into the darkness. Nothing else is seen except for these eyes. The animal movies closer until it is under the porch light. It’s a raccoon. At first, I jump back. Then I realize that this little guy doesn’t want to hurt me. It’d be another thing if it was during the day and it could be rabbit, but even then the raccoon could just be gathering food. I stand still as I continue to observe the creature. It’s actually pretty cute once you get by the rabies, trash stealing, and annoyance factor.
Their pointy little ears stick straight up like they are always aware. The head is shaped like a horizontal oval covered in fur. Although his eyes are small there is black tint to his hair that borders them in large circles. His nose is small and resembles a little black marble stuck onto his face. His body is plump and he has a long elaborate stripped tail.
Honeysuckle
As I begin to walk trough the leafy trees I notice a honeysuckle. I begin to think of my childhood. I can remember picking honeysuckles and sucking on their nectar with my friends. When I think about it now it sounds kind of gross, but back then our innocence led us to suck honeysuckles. Their bright yellow coloring pops in the sea of green leaves. The honeysuckle has white and yellow petals that spread out in unpredictable ways. Even though the honeysuckles may help asthma, they are most known for children getting a quick sweet taste.
Fawn
Big goofy ears peek through the bushes. A small head and wide eyes reveal what the animal is. It's a baby deer or fawn. The fawn is covered in white spots and will loose them when it matures. Their legs are skinny and their body looks frail. The fawn may look meek but, in the first twenty minutes of being born a fawn will achieve their first steps. The fawn stays hidden in the grass for a week until it is strong enough to keep up with the mother. After gaining stregnth the fawn will stay with their mother for a year and then go off to experiance their own life. Before that accures the fawn stays alert and skittish.
Two beety little eyes peer out into the darkness. Nothing else is seen except for these eyes. The animal movies closer until it is under the porch light. It’s a raccoon. At first, I jump back. Then I realize that this little guy doesn’t want to hurt me. It’d be another thing if it was during the day and it could be rabbit, but even then the raccoon could just be gathering food. I stand still as I continue to observe the creature. It’s actually pretty cute once you get by the rabies, trash stealing, and annoyance factor.
Their pointy little ears stick straight up like they are always aware. The head is shaped like a horizontal oval covered in fur. Although his eyes are small there is black tint to his hair that borders them in large circles. His nose is small and resembles a little black marble stuck onto his face. His body is plump and he has a long elaborate stripped tail.
Honeysuckle
As I begin to walk trough the leafy trees I notice a honeysuckle. I begin to think of my childhood. I can remember picking honeysuckles and sucking on their nectar with my friends. When I think about it now it sounds kind of gross, but back then our innocence led us to suck honeysuckles. Their bright yellow coloring pops in the sea of green leaves. The honeysuckle has white and yellow petals that spread out in unpredictable ways. Even though the honeysuckles may help asthma, they are most known for children getting a quick sweet taste.
Fawn
Big goofy ears peek through the bushes. A small head and wide eyes reveal what the animal is. It's a baby deer or fawn. The fawn is covered in white spots and will loose them when it matures. Their legs are skinny and their body looks frail. The fawn may look meek but, in the first twenty minutes of being born a fawn will achieve their first steps. The fawn stays hidden in the grass for a week until it is strong enough to keep up with the mother. After gaining stregnth the fawn will stay with their mother for a year and then go off to experiance their own life. Before that accures the fawn stays alert and skittish.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Blog 8 Nature Writing Ideas
Nature writing is definitely not my strong point, but I have a few ideas.
1- I walked outside of my apartment and I sat on my front steps. When I was looking out into the grass I noticed a lonely Dandelion. Even though this actually happened a long time ago I can remember this Dandelion in detail.
*The common green of the outdoors surrounds a bright yellow burst. This dandelion is all alone in a sea of grass. When the dandelion matures it will turn into a clock. This white cotton like material will be carried by the wind and distribute seeds throughout the blanket of grass. The lonely Dandelion waits for a gust of wind to distribute its seeds in a hope to gain some company.
2- Another idea came when my friend and I got locked outside of the apartment. We were startled by a raccoon and ran away screaming. I guess raccoons always kind of fascinated me…
*In the darkness only their eyes can be seen. The raccoon preys on uncovered garbage and leftover meals from other animals. Raccoons keep to themselves, unless they are cornered. If this happened the raccoon leaps into an attack. This animal sneaks out at night but will become aggressive if it is pressured to.
I know I don’t really have a lot right now but it is really hard so me to get into nature writing. I would love it if you guys could help me out with that! Thanks!
1- I walked outside of my apartment and I sat on my front steps. When I was looking out into the grass I noticed a lonely Dandelion. Even though this actually happened a long time ago I can remember this Dandelion in detail.
*The common green of the outdoors surrounds a bright yellow burst. This dandelion is all alone in a sea of grass. When the dandelion matures it will turn into a clock. This white cotton like material will be carried by the wind and distribute seeds throughout the blanket of grass. The lonely Dandelion waits for a gust of wind to distribute its seeds in a hope to gain some company.
2- Another idea came when my friend and I got locked outside of the apartment. We were startled by a raccoon and ran away screaming. I guess raccoons always kind of fascinated me…
*In the darkness only their eyes can be seen. The raccoon preys on uncovered garbage and leftover meals from other animals. Raccoons keep to themselves, unless they are cornered. If this happened the raccoon leaps into an attack. This animal sneaks out at night but will become aggressive if it is pressured to.
I know I don’t really have a lot right now but it is really hard so me to get into nature writing. I would love it if you guys could help me out with that! Thanks!
Monday, October 15, 2007
Blog 7 LOOKING FOR "TRUTH"
I believe that both my memoir and my personal essay relfect the story as it should be told in a short form essay. The details I selected in both are true to the focus. If I couldn't remember any of the facts I did not include them. The facts were menial so it did not harm the story. I really feel that since the two events that I talked about effected me so much as the person that I am today it was hard to lie about them. I haven't made any changed in setting or time. My sequence remained the same the only thing was that since the essays were segmented it jumped in time but i do not believe that is changing details. I did not use dialog only qoutes that I distinctly remember. I wrote from experiance in both of my essays. I don't believe I play a type in eather one of my essays. I think that I wrote from my heart and that's what makes the best writing. I don't think that I left out any relevent details. I think that I included everything that I can remember about the events. I'm not on the defense either I'm the type of person that whatever I do I am not ashamed of. I wouldn't hide what I did I live my life with no regrets. I think that my writing does show that I am more experianced and thoughtful now. I think that's what helps it have more of an impact because I can reflect on my feelings. When selecting my details I used all the ones that I could remember. I did pick out certain events that helped support my focus. I think that my tone in both of my stories is serious and gets the point across that I want to. The tone is very important because it makes the reader feel what you are feeling. I think that I was true to the charectors of the people I interacted with in my essays. I don't think that I made them fit into any roles. I feel like what I have written is the truth to the best of what I can remember. I haven't left out anything that I would need to add to my essay to make it more truthful.
Blog 6.5 Creative Non-fiction
I think that what Frey did is uncalled for. I can't say that I've read any of his books, but reading the article made me angry. I know that I wouldn't want to be misrepresented in the way that he did that to the people in his book. I also think that it is crazy that he tried to at first sell it as a fiction novel and then got away with saying it was nonfiction. The sad part is that Frey is making so much money off of his books but no one knows what is actually true. I think that saying you spent three months instead of the reality of only a few hours should not be allowed in nonfiction. Hours in jail is completely differant from months. I don't think that the charectors in the book reacted to the falsehoods like I would. Honestly I don't think they reacted strongly enough. If it was me I would probably try to write a book exposing Frey and make millions off of him.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Blog 6- Memoir
I don't know about this idea. Let me know what you guys think. It was the only thing that I could think to write about. Let me know if it is too confusing and if my intention is clear. I also changed a couple of names so I don't upset anyone. Thanks!!!
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I started to breathe faster and faster while, tears poured down my face. How could he do this to me? I had just hung up the phone with my boyfriend, Danny. He just got back from vacationing in the Dominican Republic and this was his first phone call to let me know he was home okay. When I picked up the phone I was nervous and I don’t know why. I was with him for two years and for some reason I was nervous to talk to him. We had the most awkward conversation that I ever experienced. I decided to tell him about a dream that I had the night before we talked. I told him that I had a dream that he kissed another girl. He told me that the dream was true. He didn’t even stutter he told me just kind of like, “Oh by the way that really did happen”. He seemed like he thought everything was just going to be okay. Danny then explained that it was the girl that his family went on vacation with who is a family friend. Of course before the trip Danny assured me that he had no feelings for her and that she was just a family friend. Danny explained to me that he never loved me. He fell in love with her in a week! Just a week! I screamed so loud into the phone. My neighbors even came over to check on me.
I glared outside into the woods with the phone held up to my ear. Danny isn’t crying, scared, nervous, or angry. All of those emotions are pouring out of me right now. Danny is calm and he has the nerve to say that he wants to be my friend. He wants to go to clubs with me to pick up guys. I must have hung up on Danny about twenty times that night but he kept calling back. That night I found out that he cheated on me with four girls. That night my world came crashing down. I kept breathing faster and faster while, tears poured down my face. How could he do this to me? How did we get to this point?
Everyday in English class I’d stare at him. It wasn’t too obvious because I sat behind him but I’m sure that every once in a while he’d catch me looking. We were friends but not as close as I wanted us to be. I’d lean my head on my hand and just day dream about what it would be like if I was his girlfriend. His body was long and lean with large biceps. He was a boxer and his body reflected that. His skin was milky white and his hair was jet black and curly. His hair shined from the gel he slopped in it every morning. His eyes were soft brown and his lips were full. His style, taste in music, and sense of humor all matched mine.
We became closer and closer as friends. I would drive him to school and drop him off at home after our usual Dunkin’ Doughnuts trip everyday. My feelings grew stronger and stronger and I finally got up enough courage to tell him that I had feelings for him. When I told him he said he didn’t want to ruin our friendship and we should remain friends. This was our junior year of high school. He was absent from school most of the second half of his junior year. I was really worried about him because he wasn’t picking up his phone. Until he finally came back to school acting like everything was okay.
I sat at my kitchen table after work. Every time that I was going through something tough I actually liked going to work. Work keeps my mind off of everything so I never really call out. I placed my head on the table as the tears kept coming. My mom came over because she was worried. She actually drove up all the way from down the shore just to make sure I was okay. I was supposed to go to my best friend Anna’s house later that night. The phone rang; it was Danny’s brother. I looked at my mom, took a deep breath and swallowed. Danny’s brother told me that Danny was in the hospital. I didn’t make it to my friend’s house that night. When I called her she knew that I wasn’t going to be able to drive over to her house so she came over my apartment. I don’t think Anna really knew how much I was going to need her that night until she got there.
When Danny finally came back to school we didn’t really talk. Then out of the blue over the summer Danny said that he wanted to go get coffee with me. I rushed over to pick him up. Danny didn’t look the same. He put on weight and his eyes were dazed. Over coffee Danny explained to me what happened to him. Danny has bipolar disorder and was committed to a hospital to get help. I told him that I was worried about him but I’d always be his friend.
We saw each other a good amount that summer. Senior year rolled around and we were inseparable. We were always together and always joking around. Danny kept throwing me hints that he liked me and I was getting more and more attached. This was driving me crazy. When I was driving him to blockbuster one day I got really annoyed. He did his usually sneaky flirty comment and smiles and then changed the subject. I quickly pulled the car over and looked at him. I demanded that Danny tell me what was going on with us. That’s when he said it, “I , I think that we should be more than friends”. I hit the steering wheel with my palms and said “no!” His eyes were fixed on the floor and he said that now he knew how I felt last year and that no one ever rejected him before.
Our eyes met, and he smiled. I never could resist that smile. He leaned over the center console and we kissed. I couldn’t believe we actually kissed. I drove him home and I couldn’t wait to go home and tell all of my friends what happened! When I walked in the door I quickly called Anna.
The doorbell rang, and I quickly got the door. It was Anna; she never really saw me cry until that night even though we’ve been friends since we were about five. My mom, Anna and I all sat at my kitchen table. We talked for about an hour and then the doorbell rang again. I told my mom that I didn’t feel like seeing anyone and if she could tell him or her to go away I’d appreciate it. Anna and I went in my bedroom so that whoever was at the door wouldn’t know I was home. My mom came to my bedroom door and her face was pale. I looked at her confused. As she pulled the door open a little bit more there he was. Danny was standing at my door out of breath. He looked at me and said hello then fell to the middle of my bedroom floor. He still had the IV in his arm and he had no shirt on. I live pretty close to the hospital but it’s pretty out of the ordinary to run from the hospital either way.
As he was lying on my floor the doorbell rang again. My mother went to get it and it was the police and Danny’s parents. They all came into my bedroom and I was hutched over Danny’s body on my floor. He had his eyes closed and the police ordered him to leave. Danny screamed at them and told them to shot him because he wasn’t going back to the hospital. Danny’s mom asked him what would make him go back to the hospital. He didn’t answer. I took a deep breath gave him a hug and whispered in his ear, “please go back Danny”. He looked at me and said, “Only if you come with me you’re the only one that I trust.” I looked over at Danny’s mom and she nodded with approval.
As we walked out of my apartment Danny swayed from the drugs. He refused to get into a car so he walked with me. I remember demanding that he admit that he loved me. He would not or could not tell me. I still don’t know which one it is. We arrived in the hospital room and he was passing and walking down all the hallways. He wouldn’t stay in the room. The doctor finally arrived and Danny lied in the hospital bed. Danny had to sign papers to be admitted and he asked me if I thought that he should. I told him that he should get the help that he needs. He signed the papers and passed out in the hospital bed holding my hand and listening to music.
I remember the next day at school everyone was talking about how Danny and me are dating. I went to his house after school and he said that we needed to talk. He told me that we weren’t official. He didn’t understand why I was telling people that we were. This was when I knew that I had to break it off with him. We sat on his front steps with about a foot of space between us. I told him that if he couldn’t only be with me then I didn’t want to be with him at all. I did not want to let myself get hurt. Danny turned to me and said, “ Gina, do you know how many girls want me right now?” I looked at him and said some comment with attitude and stormed off. I left his house crying. My phone started to ring. Danny told me no matter how many girls he is talking to right now, I’m more important. I gave in.
Derek pulled his headphones off of one ear and asked me where Kristen was. I walked away from the bed at stared at the wall. That’s her name, Kristen. That’s who he loves and I’m standing here in the hospital holding his hand. I tried to hold in the tears but it showed. Danny’s mother asked me what was wrong. I told her what had happened and I looked at her square in the eye. I told her that I loved her son. I never got along with Danny’s mom until that night. Danny and I never got back together. I visited him in the hospital every time I was aloud to and I sent him things everyday. When he was released we were friends but that became to hard and we had to let go.
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I started to breathe faster and faster while, tears poured down my face. How could he do this to me? I had just hung up the phone with my boyfriend, Danny. He just got back from vacationing in the Dominican Republic and this was his first phone call to let me know he was home okay. When I picked up the phone I was nervous and I don’t know why. I was with him for two years and for some reason I was nervous to talk to him. We had the most awkward conversation that I ever experienced. I decided to tell him about a dream that I had the night before we talked. I told him that I had a dream that he kissed another girl. He told me that the dream was true. He didn’t even stutter he told me just kind of like, “Oh by the way that really did happen”. He seemed like he thought everything was just going to be okay. Danny then explained that it was the girl that his family went on vacation with who is a family friend. Of course before the trip Danny assured me that he had no feelings for her and that she was just a family friend. Danny explained to me that he never loved me. He fell in love with her in a week! Just a week! I screamed so loud into the phone. My neighbors even came over to check on me.
I glared outside into the woods with the phone held up to my ear. Danny isn’t crying, scared, nervous, or angry. All of those emotions are pouring out of me right now. Danny is calm and he has the nerve to say that he wants to be my friend. He wants to go to clubs with me to pick up guys. I must have hung up on Danny about twenty times that night but he kept calling back. That night I found out that he cheated on me with four girls. That night my world came crashing down. I kept breathing faster and faster while, tears poured down my face. How could he do this to me? How did we get to this point?
Everyday in English class I’d stare at him. It wasn’t too obvious because I sat behind him but I’m sure that every once in a while he’d catch me looking. We were friends but not as close as I wanted us to be. I’d lean my head on my hand and just day dream about what it would be like if I was his girlfriend. His body was long and lean with large biceps. He was a boxer and his body reflected that. His skin was milky white and his hair was jet black and curly. His hair shined from the gel he slopped in it every morning. His eyes were soft brown and his lips were full. His style, taste in music, and sense of humor all matched mine.
We became closer and closer as friends. I would drive him to school and drop him off at home after our usual Dunkin’ Doughnuts trip everyday. My feelings grew stronger and stronger and I finally got up enough courage to tell him that I had feelings for him. When I told him he said he didn’t want to ruin our friendship and we should remain friends. This was our junior year of high school. He was absent from school most of the second half of his junior year. I was really worried about him because he wasn’t picking up his phone. Until he finally came back to school acting like everything was okay.
I sat at my kitchen table after work. Every time that I was going through something tough I actually liked going to work. Work keeps my mind off of everything so I never really call out. I placed my head on the table as the tears kept coming. My mom came over because she was worried. She actually drove up all the way from down the shore just to make sure I was okay. I was supposed to go to my best friend Anna’s house later that night. The phone rang; it was Danny’s brother. I looked at my mom, took a deep breath and swallowed. Danny’s brother told me that Danny was in the hospital. I didn’t make it to my friend’s house that night. When I called her she knew that I wasn’t going to be able to drive over to her house so she came over my apartment. I don’t think Anna really knew how much I was going to need her that night until she got there.
When Danny finally came back to school we didn’t really talk. Then out of the blue over the summer Danny said that he wanted to go get coffee with me. I rushed over to pick him up. Danny didn’t look the same. He put on weight and his eyes were dazed. Over coffee Danny explained to me what happened to him. Danny has bipolar disorder and was committed to a hospital to get help. I told him that I was worried about him but I’d always be his friend.
We saw each other a good amount that summer. Senior year rolled around and we were inseparable. We were always together and always joking around. Danny kept throwing me hints that he liked me and I was getting more and more attached. This was driving me crazy. When I was driving him to blockbuster one day I got really annoyed. He did his usually sneaky flirty comment and smiles and then changed the subject. I quickly pulled the car over and looked at him. I demanded that Danny tell me what was going on with us. That’s when he said it, “I , I think that we should be more than friends”. I hit the steering wheel with my palms and said “no!” His eyes were fixed on the floor and he said that now he knew how I felt last year and that no one ever rejected him before.
Our eyes met, and he smiled. I never could resist that smile. He leaned over the center console and we kissed. I couldn’t believe we actually kissed. I drove him home and I couldn’t wait to go home and tell all of my friends what happened! When I walked in the door I quickly called Anna.
The doorbell rang, and I quickly got the door. It was Anna; she never really saw me cry until that night even though we’ve been friends since we were about five. My mom, Anna and I all sat at my kitchen table. We talked for about an hour and then the doorbell rang again. I told my mom that I didn’t feel like seeing anyone and if she could tell him or her to go away I’d appreciate it. Anna and I went in my bedroom so that whoever was at the door wouldn’t know I was home. My mom came to my bedroom door and her face was pale. I looked at her confused. As she pulled the door open a little bit more there he was. Danny was standing at my door out of breath. He looked at me and said hello then fell to the middle of my bedroom floor. He still had the IV in his arm and he had no shirt on. I live pretty close to the hospital but it’s pretty out of the ordinary to run from the hospital either way.
As he was lying on my floor the doorbell rang again. My mother went to get it and it was the police and Danny’s parents. They all came into my bedroom and I was hutched over Danny’s body on my floor. He had his eyes closed and the police ordered him to leave. Danny screamed at them and told them to shot him because he wasn’t going back to the hospital. Danny’s mom asked him what would make him go back to the hospital. He didn’t answer. I took a deep breath gave him a hug and whispered in his ear, “please go back Danny”. He looked at me and said, “Only if you come with me you’re the only one that I trust.” I looked over at Danny’s mom and she nodded with approval.
As we walked out of my apartment Danny swayed from the drugs. He refused to get into a car so he walked with me. I remember demanding that he admit that he loved me. He would not or could not tell me. I still don’t know which one it is. We arrived in the hospital room and he was passing and walking down all the hallways. He wouldn’t stay in the room. The doctor finally arrived and Danny lied in the hospital bed. Danny had to sign papers to be admitted and he asked me if I thought that he should. I told him that he should get the help that he needs. He signed the papers and passed out in the hospital bed holding my hand and listening to music.
I remember the next day at school everyone was talking about how Danny and me are dating. I went to his house after school and he said that we needed to talk. He told me that we weren’t official. He didn’t understand why I was telling people that we were. This was when I knew that I had to break it off with him. We sat on his front steps with about a foot of space between us. I told him that if he couldn’t only be with me then I didn’t want to be with him at all. I did not want to let myself get hurt. Danny turned to me and said, “ Gina, do you know how many girls want me right now?” I looked at him and said some comment with attitude and stormed off. I left his house crying. My phone started to ring. Danny told me no matter how many girls he is talking to right now, I’m more important. I gave in.
Derek pulled his headphones off of one ear and asked me where Kristen was. I walked away from the bed at stared at the wall. That’s her name, Kristen. That’s who he loves and I’m standing here in the hospital holding his hand. I tried to hold in the tears but it showed. Danny’s mother asked me what was wrong. I told her what had happened and I looked at her square in the eye. I told her that I loved her son. I never got along with Danny’s mom until that night. Danny and I never got back together. I visited him in the hospital every time I was aloud to and I sent him things everyday. When he was released we were friends but that became to hard and we had to let go.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Analysis of Personal Essay- Blog 5
I think that my personal essay turned out honest. I was hard to tap into those feeling but I think that I accomplished what I was going for. I think that my essay helps people to understand what I've gone through and maybe what other people in their lives have gone through. My focus was that you will get over things when you least expect it and when you get over it you aren't truly over it. I hope this makes sense. When you loose someone you can deal with the emotion but the pain may still linger. I will always wish that my father was still around.
I really don't know what I'm not happy with. I probably will know when more poeple read it and give me feedback. I hope that every sees my paper the way that I want it to be percieved. I hope that with this essay no one feels bad for me, thats the worst. Yeah I lost my dad when I was 17 but everyone goes through something tragic so I don't think that I am any differant. I need help with my confidence in my writing. I always think that I did something horribly wrong and that everyone thinks that my apaper doen't meet the standards. I am overall really happy with how it turned out and can't wait to see how my paper can grow.
I really don't know what I'm not happy with. I probably will know when more poeple read it and give me feedback. I hope that every sees my paper the way that I want it to be percieved. I hope that with this essay no one feels bad for me, thats the worst. Yeah I lost my dad when I was 17 but everyone goes through something tragic so I don't think that I am any differant. I need help with my confidence in my writing. I always think that I did something horribly wrong and that everyone thinks that my apaper doen't meet the standards. I am overall really happy with how it turned out and can't wait to see how my paper can grow.
Free Writing Blog 3
Free Writing Blog 3
Earliest Memories
I remember riding my bike with my brother. We were always outside not like the children I have babysat for. We used to run or ride for hours. I remember picking apples and digging for worms. We used to pick the soft spoiled apples up off the floor to feed to the deer in our backyard.
Scared
One thing that really scared me was when my mother was in the hospital just after my father passed. I remember her calling me into the bathroom after she was spitting up blood, “Call 9-1-1!’. I called, but stuttered the entire time on the phone. This time I was more scared then with my dad because I had already faced what could happen. I remember walking into the room and just standing there with nothing to say. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing. The doctors didn’t know what was wrong with her and that made it worse. She ended up being okay but it still really scared me.
Important People
I believe that someone who is really important to me is my boyfriend, Steve. He helped me deal with a lot because he has been through many of the things that I have struggled with. I hold back my emotions and he lets his entire out. This makes him so brave to me.
My grandmother is really important to me. When I was little most of the memories that have stuck with me today are from her house. My grandma treated my brother and I like we were her children she always made us feel special. She still says to this day that I am her queen and my brother is her king.
My brother is so important to me. He has witnessed me grow and become who I am today. We have gone through everything together. Growing up everyone thought my brother and I were twins. We have the same hair color and long eyelashes. I don’t really think that we look alike though.
Angry
My ex-boyfriend made me really angry. I gave him everything. He was my first love and I was just a girl to him. We dated for two years and he told me he never loved me. He was tall and strong. He always tried to make people laugh and I think that’s what made me like him in the first place. He never seemed to have as much emotion as I did but then one day everything changed. I guess he just bottled everything up for too long. He let it all out and one of the roughest times in my life began because of this.
Place
A place that is really important to me is my grandmother’s old house. She was always cooking. The house always smelled of either pasta or some other Italian dish. She always had people over but I still felt comfortable. She had two guest bedrooms with two beds in each of them and used them for company all the time. I remember sitting in the living room while my grandma cooked. She would call me into the kitchen and teach me how to roll the dough, measure the ingredients, and prepare the food. I loved cooking with her. She always made me feel a part of her special little gift to the world. When dinner time rolled around she would say, “Gina made everything I just supervised.” This made me smile while everyone talked about how impressed they were. I knew without her I’d never be able to pull it off.
Story
My mom always tells the story about how when I was a baby I cried all night. When she would give me a bottle and I would spit it out. She said I’d be in my room and all of a sudden she’d see the bottle fly out of the room. She likes to talk about how I was a difficult baby all the time.
Another story my family likes to tell about me is when I called 9-1-1 on my brother. He was annoying me before school so I just dialed and hung up. The police showed up and told me it was serious and I remember being so embarrassed.
Earliest Memories
I remember riding my bike with my brother. We were always outside not like the children I have babysat for. We used to run or ride for hours. I remember picking apples and digging for worms. We used to pick the soft spoiled apples up off the floor to feed to the deer in our backyard.
Scared
One thing that really scared me was when my mother was in the hospital just after my father passed. I remember her calling me into the bathroom after she was spitting up blood, “Call 9-1-1!’. I called, but stuttered the entire time on the phone. This time I was more scared then with my dad because I had already faced what could happen. I remember walking into the room and just standing there with nothing to say. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing. The doctors didn’t know what was wrong with her and that made it worse. She ended up being okay but it still really scared me.
Important People
I believe that someone who is really important to me is my boyfriend, Steve. He helped me deal with a lot because he has been through many of the things that I have struggled with. I hold back my emotions and he lets his entire out. This makes him so brave to me.
My grandmother is really important to me. When I was little most of the memories that have stuck with me today are from her house. My grandma treated my brother and I like we were her children she always made us feel special. She still says to this day that I am her queen and my brother is her king.
My brother is so important to me. He has witnessed me grow and become who I am today. We have gone through everything together. Growing up everyone thought my brother and I were twins. We have the same hair color and long eyelashes. I don’t really think that we look alike though.
Angry
My ex-boyfriend made me really angry. I gave him everything. He was my first love and I was just a girl to him. We dated for two years and he told me he never loved me. He was tall and strong. He always tried to make people laugh and I think that’s what made me like him in the first place. He never seemed to have as much emotion as I did but then one day everything changed. I guess he just bottled everything up for too long. He let it all out and one of the roughest times in my life began because of this.
Place
A place that is really important to me is my grandmother’s old house. She was always cooking. The house always smelled of either pasta or some other Italian dish. She always had people over but I still felt comfortable. She had two guest bedrooms with two beds in each of them and used them for company all the time. I remember sitting in the living room while my grandma cooked. She would call me into the kitchen and teach me how to roll the dough, measure the ingredients, and prepare the food. I loved cooking with her. She always made me feel a part of her special little gift to the world. When dinner time rolled around she would say, “Gina made everything I just supervised.” This made me smile while everyone talked about how impressed they were. I knew without her I’d never be able to pull it off.
Story
My mom always tells the story about how when I was a baby I cried all night. When she would give me a bottle and I would spit it out. She said I’d be in my room and all of a sudden she’d see the bottle fly out of the room. She likes to talk about how I was a difficult baby all the time.
Another story my family likes to tell about me is when I called 9-1-1 on my brother. He was annoying me before school so I just dialed and hung up. The police showed up and told me it was serious and I remember being so embarrassed.
Monday, October 1, 2007
"My Father Always Said"- Mimi Schwarts- Blog 2
Part 1
The author and her sister were seperated from their traditional culture growing up as Americans. There were rebelious in the fact that her sister smoked ciggerettes and she wore lipstick at age 12. They hung out at Penn Drug on friday nights with boys. She also touches on how her father is traditional.
Part 2
This goes more in depth about her father's culture in Germany. Her father seems very proud. She talks about the mixed culture in America..
Part 3
This is more emotional and builds suspence. Her father didn't want to enter old rooms and ruin his memory with the thoughts of the bad things that happened. She goes into detail about Kristallnacht.
Part 4
Her father talks about his childhood and about how Jews and Christians are divided.
Part 5
They visit the graves of their families and it grows even more suspenseful.
Part 6
She relizes how lucky she is and it resinates about how lucky she really is. She sums up the essay in this part. It gives the reader a good feeling about culture. It made me want to explore and understand my families culture as well.
The author and her sister were seperated from their traditional culture growing up as Americans. There were rebelious in the fact that her sister smoked ciggerettes and she wore lipstick at age 12. They hung out at Penn Drug on friday nights with boys. She also touches on how her father is traditional.
Part 2
This goes more in depth about her father's culture in Germany. Her father seems very proud. She talks about the mixed culture in America..
Part 3
This is more emotional and builds suspence. Her father didn't want to enter old rooms and ruin his memory with the thoughts of the bad things that happened. She goes into detail about Kristallnacht.
Part 4
Her father talks about his childhood and about how Jews and Christians are divided.
Part 5
They visit the graves of their families and it grows even more suspenseful.
Part 6
She relizes how lucky she is and it resinates about how lucky she really is. She sums up the essay in this part. It gives the reader a good feeling about culture. It made me want to explore and understand my families culture as well.
Rough Draft
I was slumped on the couch surrounded by my usual Sunday football fans. We laughed and poked fun at each other’s teams. Until, an unfamiliar face walked in. He asked me why I would ever be a Pittsburgh fan. I explained that my father was a Pittsburgh fan and I was Daddy’s little girl so I jumped on the Steelers bus at a young age. I took a breath and I began to tell them a story about my father.
I was twelve years old and the most excited I’ve ever been in my short-lived life. That morning I ran down the steps. On the way down I got a robust whiff. I knew my dad was making omelets. This must have been a special occasion because my Dad usually only made his omelets on Christmas morning. After breakfast I followed my dad outside. He sat down on one of the rocking chairs on our front porch with the family dog, Jax. Jax was a boxer and did not like strangers. If anyone else besides my father took him outside without a leash he would be gone in a second chasing after something. My dad had a special way with animals. He was wearing a loose fitting Steelers sweatshirt, his usual jeans, and a Pittsburgh hat. He pulled out a cigar lit it and sat back in the chair. He rocked and studied the scenery. My father didn’t believe in talking when it wasn’t necessary. I looked at him as I sat cross-legged on the concrete porch. “Dad do you think Pittsburgh’s going to win?” He blew out smoke looked down at me and said, “I don’t know Gina” as he rubbed his hand on his forehead. My dad rarely took off of work, not even for holidays. This was big. I went back inside and began to help my mother clean and set up the food for the game. My dad never liked to order food out. He believed strongly in not wasting money on eating out all the time. That day we actually had subs, pasta dishes, potato salad, and wings all from restaurants. As the game began my heart pounded. My father had a few superstitions. One was when the opposing team was going for a field goal you’d stick out your pinky and pointer finger on both hands with all the others down. My dad would pick a side for the ball to go to and aim his fingers that way. Most of the time it actually worked and my brother and I swore that it was sacred. We called it a jinx. The Steelers lost to the Cowboys that day 27-17. I yelled at the TV but my Dad didn’t really say too much towards the end of the game. He would yell but then he’d walk out of the room to yell even louder. He wouldn’t even answer the phone. The game took over all of his emotions.
When I sat up last night in my bed I couldn’t help but imagine the daunting day ahead of me. I went through my itinerary over and over again in my head. The night dragged on. I pulled myself out of bed and slumped over to my computer. I have to write something for him, something special. I wrote about my Dad’s personality and of course our main bond the Pittsburgh Steelers. My mom knocked on the door and said that I better start getting ready. I began talking to myself. “Okay Gina, you can do this. You can do this.” I still hadn’t cried. I hesitantly strolled over to my brother Louis’s room. I stared at the closed door for what seemed to be an hour but was only a few seconds. I prepared to knock, clenched my hand in a fist and then released it. “Come on Gina, take a deep breath.” I clenched my fist for a second time and tapped on the door. “Yeah?” He sounded so tired. “Louis we have to leave soon are you almost ready?” The door opened. My brother walked out in a suit. He was never ready before my mother and I.
Louis drove my mother and I to the funeral home. The car ride seemed to have only lasted a few seconds. No one spoke. My brother got out of the car and proceeded to walk. I took a deep breath and opened my mother’s door. Everyone was looking at us. I’ll never forget how everyone looked at us. They cried and expected us to bawl. Everyone’s eyes were scrolling our faces trying to read how we were feeling. I thought to myself a lot that day, stop looking at me, I’m ok just stop looking at me.
At the cemetery everyone was still studying my family. My mom already had her moments in the church and at the wake. She let some of it out but she even told me herself that she didn’t want to show her emotion. My brother still hadn’t cried so I wasn’t going to. We made it past the funeral without a tear. When I tried to fall asleep that night I cried, but it was okay because no one knew. I knew that my brother was in the next room doing the same thing. I looked at the wall between my brother’s room and mine. I wanted to pick up one of the walkie-talkies we used to use as kids and ask him if he was awake. My brother and I were always close even when we were arguing. I looked at a picture of my mom, dad, brother, and I. I cried maybe my brother knows what I’m going through. We always went through everything together even our wrestling faze.
I loved to compete with my brother. I just wanted to be one of the boys. Whatever my brother did I wanted to do it even better. We would watch wrestling and play outside. My brother and I even used to stage wrestling matches between each other. My brother is fourteen months older than I but I still felt like I could compete. We would both start in a corner and we would begin on our knees. The fights grew intense and sometimes my dog Jax would try to protect me from my brother. Jax would wedge his way in between the two of us then get on top of my brother and growl. Sometimes my brother would catch me in a bad spot or I would get hurt and I would start to cry. My dad would come down the steps and say, “Gina, don’t wrestle with Louis if you can’t handle it. Don’t cry just fight back.” I didn’t understand why my dad said this. I thought my brother should be punished but in turn I got yelled at. My brother would smirk at me and that always made my anger boil. I got angry and tackled my brother. Of course, after a struggle he ended up pinning me down again and I grunted with frustration. He was just stronger then me and I couldn’t face that.
My heart was pounding; it was a week away. I was so anxious, but prepared. I knew what was coming. This was something that I’ve have looked forward to since I was a little girl. That day I went to Party City. I stocked up on black and yellow plates, napkins, cups, utensils, and decorations. I had my whole outfit picked out. Even though my outfit was ready I think I must have changed it about fifty times. I don’t understand now what the difference is between one jersey and another but at the time it really mattered.
The day of the Super bowl I woke up at seven o’clock in the morning. Needless to say everyone in my house thought I was crazy for setting up so early. My mom helped me with the food preparations. I got subs, wings, salads, burgers, and everything else I could think of. My boyfriend and my brother helped me set up balloons and streamers. My heart was pounding I walked out of the room and took a breath as I walked back in the room was overtaken with black and yellow. My boyfriend sat on the couch watching the pre-game while I ran around. He told me to relax, but when he says that it never seems to register. After the downstairs was all set up I went upstairs to start getting ready. My hair was not working that day. I must have sat in front of the mirror for two hours. I’m not one of those girls that takes two hours just to get her hair done, but today was special.
As my guests started to arrive, I was still running around my mom’s house. Everyone was busting my chops saying that Pittsburgh was going to loose. I didn’t really listen to them. They even ended up taking bets with each other on who was going to win and by how much. This, I have to admit ticked me off, but hey what can you do. Most of my friends and family members were seated on a large brown sectional couch in front of the big screen TV. We had bar stools set up behind it like stadium seating. There is also a bar on the wall cornered from the TV that some were sitting at. My seat was a folding chair about one foot from the television. It was time for the coin toss.
My heart was pounding come on Pittsburgh! We won the coin toss I screamed and cheered. My friends all looked at me as if I were crazy. My yellow and black Pittsburgh hat was pulled down low on my forehead. I was focused ready to have a good game. I smeared black eyeliner about an inch underneath my eyes just like the players do. My jersey was worn proud. I even had Pittsburgh socks on. I waved my towel in the air even before the kickoff began. My friends and family all sat relaxed with beers in their hand. The game took over all of my emotions. Steelers 21 Seahawks 10! I started to cry in front of everyone. My boyfriend game me a big hug and even he started to tear. I looked over at my mom and gave her a hug tighter then I ever have before. She was crying too. I whispered in her ear, “he should’ve been here” she replied, “I know”. I looked over at my brother and he sat there emotionless. I knew he didn’t make my journey yet. He would let it out when he least expected. I let it out two years after my father past, my brother would have to just wait for it to hit him.
Thanks for reading my essay. As for feedback I'd really like any that you could give me. I don't really have any specific questions for feedback. Just let me know if I should include anything else or if anything is unclear. Thanks again!-Gina
I was twelve years old and the most excited I’ve ever been in my short-lived life. That morning I ran down the steps. On the way down I got a robust whiff. I knew my dad was making omelets. This must have been a special occasion because my Dad usually only made his omelets on Christmas morning. After breakfast I followed my dad outside. He sat down on one of the rocking chairs on our front porch with the family dog, Jax. Jax was a boxer and did not like strangers. If anyone else besides my father took him outside without a leash he would be gone in a second chasing after something. My dad had a special way with animals. He was wearing a loose fitting Steelers sweatshirt, his usual jeans, and a Pittsburgh hat. He pulled out a cigar lit it and sat back in the chair. He rocked and studied the scenery. My father didn’t believe in talking when it wasn’t necessary. I looked at him as I sat cross-legged on the concrete porch. “Dad do you think Pittsburgh’s going to win?” He blew out smoke looked down at me and said, “I don’t know Gina” as he rubbed his hand on his forehead. My dad rarely took off of work, not even for holidays. This was big. I went back inside and began to help my mother clean and set up the food for the game. My dad never liked to order food out. He believed strongly in not wasting money on eating out all the time. That day we actually had subs, pasta dishes, potato salad, and wings all from restaurants. As the game began my heart pounded. My father had a few superstitions. One was when the opposing team was going for a field goal you’d stick out your pinky and pointer finger on both hands with all the others down. My dad would pick a side for the ball to go to and aim his fingers that way. Most of the time it actually worked and my brother and I swore that it was sacred. We called it a jinx. The Steelers lost to the Cowboys that day 27-17. I yelled at the TV but my Dad didn’t really say too much towards the end of the game. He would yell but then he’d walk out of the room to yell even louder. He wouldn’t even answer the phone. The game took over all of his emotions.
When I sat up last night in my bed I couldn’t help but imagine the daunting day ahead of me. I went through my itinerary over and over again in my head. The night dragged on. I pulled myself out of bed and slumped over to my computer. I have to write something for him, something special. I wrote about my Dad’s personality and of course our main bond the Pittsburgh Steelers. My mom knocked on the door and said that I better start getting ready. I began talking to myself. “Okay Gina, you can do this. You can do this.” I still hadn’t cried. I hesitantly strolled over to my brother Louis’s room. I stared at the closed door for what seemed to be an hour but was only a few seconds. I prepared to knock, clenched my hand in a fist and then released it. “Come on Gina, take a deep breath.” I clenched my fist for a second time and tapped on the door. “Yeah?” He sounded so tired. “Louis we have to leave soon are you almost ready?” The door opened. My brother walked out in a suit. He was never ready before my mother and I.
Louis drove my mother and I to the funeral home. The car ride seemed to have only lasted a few seconds. No one spoke. My brother got out of the car and proceeded to walk. I took a deep breath and opened my mother’s door. Everyone was looking at us. I’ll never forget how everyone looked at us. They cried and expected us to bawl. Everyone’s eyes were scrolling our faces trying to read how we were feeling. I thought to myself a lot that day, stop looking at me, I’m ok just stop looking at me.
At the cemetery everyone was still studying my family. My mom already had her moments in the church and at the wake. She let some of it out but she even told me herself that she didn’t want to show her emotion. My brother still hadn’t cried so I wasn’t going to. We made it past the funeral without a tear. When I tried to fall asleep that night I cried, but it was okay because no one knew. I knew that my brother was in the next room doing the same thing. I looked at the wall between my brother’s room and mine. I wanted to pick up one of the walkie-talkies we used to use as kids and ask him if he was awake. My brother and I were always close even when we were arguing. I looked at a picture of my mom, dad, brother, and I. I cried maybe my brother knows what I’m going through. We always went through everything together even our wrestling faze.
I loved to compete with my brother. I just wanted to be one of the boys. Whatever my brother did I wanted to do it even better. We would watch wrestling and play outside. My brother and I even used to stage wrestling matches between each other. My brother is fourteen months older than I but I still felt like I could compete. We would both start in a corner and we would begin on our knees. The fights grew intense and sometimes my dog Jax would try to protect me from my brother. Jax would wedge his way in between the two of us then get on top of my brother and growl. Sometimes my brother would catch me in a bad spot or I would get hurt and I would start to cry. My dad would come down the steps and say, “Gina, don’t wrestle with Louis if you can’t handle it. Don’t cry just fight back.” I didn’t understand why my dad said this. I thought my brother should be punished but in turn I got yelled at. My brother would smirk at me and that always made my anger boil. I got angry and tackled my brother. Of course, after a struggle he ended up pinning me down again and I grunted with frustration. He was just stronger then me and I couldn’t face that.
My heart was pounding; it was a week away. I was so anxious, but prepared. I knew what was coming. This was something that I’ve have looked forward to since I was a little girl. That day I went to Party City. I stocked up on black and yellow plates, napkins, cups, utensils, and decorations. I had my whole outfit picked out. Even though my outfit was ready I think I must have changed it about fifty times. I don’t understand now what the difference is between one jersey and another but at the time it really mattered.
The day of the Super bowl I woke up at seven o’clock in the morning. Needless to say everyone in my house thought I was crazy for setting up so early. My mom helped me with the food preparations. I got subs, wings, salads, burgers, and everything else I could think of. My boyfriend and my brother helped me set up balloons and streamers. My heart was pounding I walked out of the room and took a breath as I walked back in the room was overtaken with black and yellow. My boyfriend sat on the couch watching the pre-game while I ran around. He told me to relax, but when he says that it never seems to register. After the downstairs was all set up I went upstairs to start getting ready. My hair was not working that day. I must have sat in front of the mirror for two hours. I’m not one of those girls that takes two hours just to get her hair done, but today was special.
As my guests started to arrive, I was still running around my mom’s house. Everyone was busting my chops saying that Pittsburgh was going to loose. I didn’t really listen to them. They even ended up taking bets with each other on who was going to win and by how much. This, I have to admit ticked me off, but hey what can you do. Most of my friends and family members were seated on a large brown sectional couch in front of the big screen TV. We had bar stools set up behind it like stadium seating. There is also a bar on the wall cornered from the TV that some were sitting at. My seat was a folding chair about one foot from the television. It was time for the coin toss.
My heart was pounding come on Pittsburgh! We won the coin toss I screamed and cheered. My friends all looked at me as if I were crazy. My yellow and black Pittsburgh hat was pulled down low on my forehead. I was focused ready to have a good game. I smeared black eyeliner about an inch underneath my eyes just like the players do. My jersey was worn proud. I even had Pittsburgh socks on. I waved my towel in the air even before the kickoff began. My friends and family all sat relaxed with beers in their hand. The game took over all of my emotions. Steelers 21 Seahawks 10! I started to cry in front of everyone. My boyfriend game me a big hug and even he started to tear. I looked over at my mom and gave her a hug tighter then I ever have before. She was crying too. I whispered in her ear, “he should’ve been here” she replied, “I know”. I looked over at my brother and he sat there emotionless. I knew he didn’t make my journey yet. He would let it out when he least expected. I let it out two years after my father past, my brother would have to just wait for it to hit him.
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Thanks for reading my essay. As for feedback I'd really like any that you could give me. I don't really have any specific questions for feedback. Just let me know if I should include anything else or if anything is unclear. Thanks again!-Gina
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Design Plan Blog 1
Design Plan
My essay’s purpose is to demonstrate that when you loose someone you will never forget them but when you least expect it you may accept it. I wanted to write this piece because I feel like a lot of young people do not go through loosing someone so close to them. When it happens and none of your friends can understand what you are going through it makes it more difficult to grieve. I want this essay to touch people and help them to understand what it is like to loose a parent at a young age. I would hope that others would appreciate their parents more after reading this. I believe that the overall theme of the Pittsburgh Steelers will tie the story together. From the beginning of me being a fan watching games with my dad to the super bowl without my father. I think that my flashbacks and segmenting my essay will really pull people into the moment. My overall main point will be that you have to grieve and you cannot hold it all in forever. I will include a description of my father’s looks and personality. I will also include descriptions of our surroundings to further develop our relationship in the essay. I am going to leave out the details of my father’s illness. It is not pertinent to the story so I feel it will just drag it on.
After reading the beginning of my essay readers will know this is an emotional piece. If they relate to or are curious about my topic there will be clues throughout my essay to read it more deeply. I will use symbolism and foreshadowing so the reader will be prepared. I will also have some strong descriptions. Many people believe that you get over the death of someone close to you and that’s it. It’s never brought to a head again, but that’s not true. When you loose someone that is that close to you the pain will creep back up when you least expect it. I would show my reader that even today I still think about it and get upset, it’s just less frequent and less sad thoughts more memories.
My essay’s purpose is to demonstrate that when you loose someone you will never forget them but when you least expect it you may accept it. I wanted to write this piece because I feel like a lot of young people do not go through loosing someone so close to them. When it happens and none of your friends can understand what you are going through it makes it more difficult to grieve. I want this essay to touch people and help them to understand what it is like to loose a parent at a young age. I would hope that others would appreciate their parents more after reading this. I believe that the overall theme of the Pittsburgh Steelers will tie the story together. From the beginning of me being a fan watching games with my dad to the super bowl without my father. I think that my flashbacks and segmenting my essay will really pull people into the moment. My overall main point will be that you have to grieve and you cannot hold it all in forever. I will include a description of my father’s looks and personality. I will also include descriptions of our surroundings to further develop our relationship in the essay. I am going to leave out the details of my father’s illness. It is not pertinent to the story so I feel it will just drag it on.
After reading the beginning of my essay readers will know this is an emotional piece. If they relate to or are curious about my topic there will be clues throughout my essay to read it more deeply. I will use symbolism and foreshadowing so the reader will be prepared. I will also have some strong descriptions. Many people believe that you get over the death of someone close to you and that’s it. It’s never brought to a head again, but that’s not true. When you loose someone that is that close to you the pain will creep back up when you least expect it. I would show my reader that even today I still think about it and get upset, it’s just less frequent and less sad thoughts more memories.
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