Thursday, March 5, 2009
"God's Close Up," This American Life (2007)
This was a short video which portrayed a creative artist who was obsessed with Jesus and his crucification. This man used real life people and took pictures of these people as he positioned them in the place of where the crucification would have. This man went around town looking fro men with beards to play Jesus. This man is creative and shows a great Personal Narrative.
"Running" Juan Rodriguez
This is a story of a male who becomes a runner. This man began his running career with dreaming of running and endlessly running and running and finding such amusement through running. After dreaming so much the same dream, his dream became his reality. This man is now a runner and running is not just his dream, but running is his life.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
"Just Watch" Saskia Boggs
This personal narrative is a struggle. Boggs struggles with television. This girl watches television for a majority of her time and doesn't get her homework done on time, causing her to have bad grades in school. Television takes away from her family and the time she gets to spend with them. This personal narrative influences me to share a story with my readers and not be afraid of the truth.
Monday, March 2, 2009
"Appeal From An Angry Not So Emo" Kali Moriarty
This is a story based off of high school. This narrative discusses the judging of other individuals off first site. This teenager is seen as the emo kid due to the clothes they wear and the style they pull off. Its sad to hear this but I also see this at my high school with the kids who dress in all black or let their hair grow out, or styled into a mohawk.
"What Truthiness Taught Me ABout Being (Un)Cool" Sarah Schelde
This personal narrative is about a teenager who used to desire to be the cool kid each kid dreams of: popular, a lot of friends, prom king or queen, the usual high school dream. This student realized how they didn't want to be that person because they saw others live their lives in that state of unhappiness. This person is happy with being uncool and going through high school with their friends the way they are.
My Story
First Basketball Game
I was 7 years of age. My dad always wanted me to be a basketball player. I was on a team; the Huskies. The name itself put a smile on my face. I was a Husky. My father was the coach. During practices he would tell me go as hard as you can. Give me one hundred and ten percent. I always pushed myself to be the best. The first game was a week away. I was so excited. I would practice each day in my front yard. The basketball hoop hung from the garage. The hoop was 10 feet high, although in the games, the hoop was only 7.5 feet high. I felt like a pro. My favorite basketball player was playing on TV. Allen Iverson. I envied him. He was amazing. He was the scoring leader for his team each game; averaging 25 points a game his rookie season. It was game day. I woke up ready to play. My father made me breakfast; my mother was at work. I had ham and eggs, with a piece of toast, and a small buzz light year cup filled with orange juice. After breakfast and went outside to practice. My dad joined me and told me to work on my free throws. I shot fifty and made 47. That’s a 94 percent shooter. I felt like I was Allen Iverson. It was game time. On my way to the game, sitting in the car, my dad turned on the radio. I can’t remember what song it was, but it pumped me up. Singing in tune with my father, there was nothing better at that moment of time. I arrived at the game. We were 30 minutes early. My dad talked to the team. Again he told us, give me 110 percent, and have fun. It was game time. I started. I scored the first basket. I then stole the ball and ended up making the first 10 points. I was Allen Iverson at that time. The game ended soon enough. I ended up with 42 points, as a 7 year old. I was the happiest kid on the planet. AT the end of the game, my father gave me a hug, and said I’m so proud of you. AT that time, I called him daddy.
I was 7 years of age. My dad always wanted me to be a basketball player. I was on a team; the Huskies. The name itself put a smile on my face. I was a Husky. My father was the coach. During practices he would tell me go as hard as you can. Give me one hundred and ten percent. I always pushed myself to be the best. The first game was a week away. I was so excited. I would practice each day in my front yard. The basketball hoop hung from the garage. The hoop was 10 feet high, although in the games, the hoop was only 7.5 feet high. I felt like a pro. My favorite basketball player was playing on TV. Allen Iverson. I envied him. He was amazing. He was the scoring leader for his team each game; averaging 25 points a game his rookie season. It was game day. I woke up ready to play. My father made me breakfast; my mother was at work. I had ham and eggs, with a piece of toast, and a small buzz light year cup filled with orange juice. After breakfast and went outside to practice. My dad joined me and told me to work on my free throws. I shot fifty and made 47. That’s a 94 percent shooter. I felt like I was Allen Iverson. It was game time. On my way to the game, sitting in the car, my dad turned on the radio. I can’t remember what song it was, but it pumped me up. Singing in tune with my father, there was nothing better at that moment of time. I arrived at the game. We were 30 minutes early. My dad talked to the team. Again he told us, give me 110 percent, and have fun. It was game time. I started. I scored the first basket. I then stole the ball and ended up making the first 10 points. I was Allen Iverson at that time. The game ended soon enough. I ended up with 42 points, as a 7 year old. I was the happiest kid on the planet. AT the end of the game, my father gave me a hug, and said I’m so proud of you. AT that time, I called him daddy.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Where I'm From 2006
I'm from a hard working family
Where i work all day supporting my parents and my brother
I am from a one story house in Granada Hills
(Covered with trees and animals)
A paradise and memory planted in my brain
I'm from a magical tree
FIlled with squirells and pixies
Surrounded by derr's and rabbits
A weeping willow
I'm from an island
Where i support a family of four
I hunt for fish
CLimb trees for coconuts
Even chop wood
To make a fire and assure my family stays warm
I'm from Paradise Island
A beautiful and magical place
I'm from a miraculous land
Where beavers talk to you
Where frogs croak and birds chirp
Where wizards and fairies protect the land
Asssuring the safety of everyone
I'm from Narnia
Where fighting doesn't exist
Peace is a must
Kindness is always given
A magical place
Where everyone is treated the same
I'm from Narnia
Where i work all day supporting my parents and my brother
I am from a one story house in Granada Hills
(Covered with trees and animals)
A paradise and memory planted in my brain
I'm from a magical tree
FIlled with squirells and pixies
Surrounded by derr's and rabbits
A weeping willow
I'm from an island
Where i support a family of four
I hunt for fish
CLimb trees for coconuts
Even chop wood
To make a fire and assure my family stays warm
I'm from Paradise Island
A beautiful and magical place
I'm from a miraculous land
Where beavers talk to you
Where frogs croak and birds chirp
Where wizards and fairies protect the land
Asssuring the safety of everyone
I'm from Narnia
Where fighting doesn't exist
Peace is a must
Kindness is always given
A magical place
Where everyone is treated the same
I'm from Narnia
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