November 1 essay map
Essay map for essay 2-
*Seminary is an early morning LDS church class for youth that provides a much-needed community of support for upholding church standards, values, and morals.
It’s important to say this because seminary is a very important part of LDS youth’s lives- much more important than some people think. If people are aware of the good that seminary can do, it is hoped that they will be more supportive of it. It is a great augmentative force in LDS youth’s lives which reminds them of choosing the right and also gives them the opportunity to interact with other youth who have similar standards, thus forming friendships which are conducive to living a good, happy, and healthy life.
*To be convinced by my claim the first thing the reader needs to know is what seminary is. The reader needs to know this because that’s what the essay is about, and most people don’t know what it is. It is an early morning class for girls and boys in high school with the course curriculum foundation in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (the LDS Church, or the “Mormon Church”). There are four years of seminary- the Old Testament, New Testament, Book of Mormon, and Church History/Doctrine and Covenants.
*The next thing my reader needs to know is what seminary teaches. That is important because it’s also what my essay is about. There are four years of seminary- the Old Testament, New Testament, Book of Mormon, and Church History/Doctrine and Covenants each comprising one year of seminary instruction. Students learn about the text and also about how the information therein applies to them- the scriptures are personalized. In doing this, students learn good values.
*The next thing a reader needs to know is what the typical seminary students are like- their personalities and life choices. Most of the girls dress modestly- even for school dances like homecoming, they find dresses that do not plunge too low and also which have sleeves (if they don’t have sleeves, they make their own sleeves or wear a little jacket over their dress). The boys respect girls, do not swear, and aren’t interested in viewing inappropriate material. Many/most of these students work hard at school, and work at keeping a long-term perspective of how their choices today affect their life possibilities in the future.
*The next thing my reader needs to know is counter arguments for the usefulness of seminary. Sometimes people may say that not all Mormons are good, and so the examples of seminary students I gave are the exception. Well, those examples are not the exception- they are the rule. It is a minority of seminary students that I know who do not stick to the standards taught to them and who make poor life choices. People may say that seminary doesn’t teach anything that can’t be taught at home or at church. That is true, but seminary provides an unequaled opportunity for daily teaching in an environment with other people whom the students can relate to and interact with, thus providing an unparalleled support which the likes of cannot be found at home or church. People may say that seminary is useless. It is not. Ask any seminary student, most will say that they notice how starting their day off with seminary changes the whole outcome of the day. They feel happier and do better at school and get along with people better. All this because they have seminary in the morning to start their day off right. If attending seminary can produce such results, then it must needs be a good thing.
08 November 2006
essay structure invention
November 1, 2006- Engl 110- essay structure invention
PART ONE
Essay structure invention- “why?”
Why does my interpretation of this phenomenon of seminary matter to anyone besides me?
It lets people know about seminary, about the youth of my church. About how much we care about our religion and our beliefs and our standards and what sorts of techniques the church uses to raise its youth well. And you don’t need to be Mormon to come to seminary. So perhaps some people will have their kids come to seminary with us. That would be pretty cool. Maybe if more people came to seminary they’d start making better choices in their lives, and do better in school, and be happy and stuff. I know that I am extremely biased
It is a support for parents, church leaders, seminary teachers, high school teachers, seminary students, and upcoming seminary students (aka “seminary students to-be”). Why is it important to them? For parents- well, parents wake up at six o’clock in the morning to drive their children to seminary. Their children loose sleep for it. I think that expressing the value of seminary reassures these parents that their sacrifices are for something good- that in sacrificing an hour or so of sleep, they allow their children to have a daily experience which is beneficial to their daily lives.
Seminary teachers would benefit from hearing a student express the value of seminary because sometimes being a seminary teacher can be a thankless job. I do not know this from first-hand experience, however, I am aware of it through watching teachers. One day last year Brother Dysart got extremely upset- upset for him at least (it was pretty calm compared other peoples’ tempers that I’ve seen; he must just be a very placid sort of man)- because he had worked hard at his lesson, and what was the class doing? Well, one third wasn’t present, another third was sleeping, and the last third (excepting maybe two students) were talking. I felt bad for him (especially since I was one of the talking students…). It was the only day that he ever got upset with us like that. It really was. Freshman year Brother Sellers had a hard time as well. He had a bunch of obnoxious freshman boys who like to think they’re funny (okay, so they are actually pretty funny, I’ve realized now that they and I have matured a bit, but at the time I just got annoyed with them for detracting from my learning experience), and who would spend most of seminary talking. Poor Brother Sellers.
Such a previously explained explanation would benefit seminary students and seminary students-to-be because it will show them how seminary can impact their lives and how beneficial it can be for them. And also how much many current seminary students enjoy and reap great rewards from attending, and learning in, seminary.
Four hundred and seventy nine words. That’s not enough! Okay, so now it’s four hundred and ninety eight words. Fantastic. I’m done. (501)
Well, in conclusion, why is this topic important? ‘cuz it’s good to know what’s going on, and it’s also good to reassure people that things they do (or can do) are for their benefit. The end.
Essay structure invention- “what?”
What evidence shows that seminary being a good community for high school students is true?
The fact that high school students who attend regularly and who are willing to benefit from the class, are generally happy people who work hard at doing well in school and at being good people.
Isaac, Spencer, David, and Derek are pretty happy young men. They come to seminary in the morning often tired, but still retaining their good sense of humor. This was especially so today when Sister Utterback said that she brought donuts for the class. “Yeee-es!!” said Isaac. He, David, Spencer and Derek pretty much went very quickly over to the donuts. But it’s not just about donuts, you see, it’s also about behavior outside of the classroom. While I may not be well acquainted with all of these four boys, I do feel comfortable around them. I know that if I am around them they will not say anything inappropriate- no swearing, cussing, vulgar language, dirty jokes, sexual innuendos- none of that which when I hear it makes me cringe. What’s also nice is, for example, in my contemporary world issues (CWI) class that I had last year, Isaac was in it. And we would talk about different things- like gay marriage- in that class that tend to be very controversial issues. I absolutely loved it when we broached the topic of gay marriage and I was able to exchange a look with Isaac, and could tell that he was thinking, “ugh… gay marriage is not right; and I don’t really want to talk about it”. Or when in Mr. Larsen’s class our freshman year, Mr. Larsen drew an excessive amount of attention to the male genitalia on a Greek statue, and the female “endowments” (that’s what we’ll call the breasts)- the upstanding LDS boys (who, by the way, are in my seminary class) looked away and groaned at the teacher’s audacity. With these young men I don’t have to worry about them viewing my body as an object to be admired and that being the sole reason they enjoy my company. They are not that worldly.
You see, being LDS, we have values, and standards, and morals and we try to adhere to them like tape, sticking up for what we believe in. But sometimes, Sunday worship service and Sunday school just aren’t enough. In our society which can be so corrupt and vulgar at times, we often need daily uplifting. Daily reminders of who we are and what we stand for. Seminary does this for today’s LDS youth. It helps us at this critical deciding time in our lives to stick to what we believe and stand up for it.
Of course, in my example about the young men being upstanding, that goes two ways. I know young men who are extremely thankful for the large amount of girls who dress and behave modestly. Some of them like to say, “modest is hottest!!”, which always gets a laugh, but is also nice for the young women to hear. They don’t feel pressured around these good LDS girls to think about sex or other inappropriate behaviors. They are able to concentrate on the girls’ personalities instead of being distracted by their more physical endowments.
Essay structure invention- “how?”
How does the thesis stand up to the challenge of a counter-argument?
How does the introduction of new material affect the claims I’m making?
Possible argument: these students are just raised to be good students, and seminary doesn’t make a difference one way or the other because that’s just who they are.
Possible counter-argument: wrong. These students may or may not have good parents who raise them well, and may not have other good environments to be in in order to have their standards upheld. And if they do, well, good for them. However- seminary makes a difference because it reinforces what is taught at home and expounds on that. Often nowadays parents don’t have much time to sit down with their kids and teach them about their religion and in-depth teach them about good standards and values and morals and about how to uphold those and such. This is unfortunate, but it happens. Students come to seminary and learn things that parents don’t teach them at home (whether that be because of neglect to teach or just lack of time or knowledge). We are reminded about how bad choices lead to bad consequences and given scriptural advice concerning these matters as well. Seminary supports what a student already knows and does, making it easier to live making good decisions.
Possible argument (including new material): there are seminary students that don’t make very good choices- that do drugs, have sex, etc. yet they attend seminary regularly. Obviously seminary doesn’t make a difference in their lives.
Possible counter-argument: these students don’t care about seminary. But it’s more than that- they don’t follow their religion, and since seminary is a support to religion and faith, there must be faith and a willingness or conviction to follow what they know is right. Students that don’t have that attitude, that willingness or conviction, don’t have anything for seminary to augment. They go to seminary and very little of the lessons taught there affect them because they are not willing to accept them.
Possible argument: seminary just teaches a bunch of religious “hoo-ha”, or junk.
Possible counter-argument: seminary doesn’t teach a bunch of religious “hoo-ha” (that is soo fun to say!!). It teaches our religion, and that includes things like having good standards and integrity. Good standards such as being honest and hard working and respectful towards people. Keeping good care of your body- not drinking alcohol (ever), doing drugs, we even talk about getting enough sleep! (of course, most of the seminary students have a lot of trouble with that one.) The students in my seminary class that “walk the talk” (act on what they believe) are great students. They follow the counsel of the president of our church and study hard and work hard and uphold their standards.
I like my seminary class, and no one can convince me that it is a worthless class. I like going to the church in the morning before school and starting my day off learning about my religion and about the scriptures. I like the people that I meet through seminary and how they give me a support group for staying true to what I believe.
PART ONE
Essay structure invention- “why?”
Why does my interpretation of this phenomenon of seminary matter to anyone besides me?
It lets people know about seminary, about the youth of my church. About how much we care about our religion and our beliefs and our standards and what sorts of techniques the church uses to raise its youth well. And you don’t need to be Mormon to come to seminary. So perhaps some people will have their kids come to seminary with us. That would be pretty cool. Maybe if more people came to seminary they’d start making better choices in their lives, and do better in school, and be happy and stuff. I know that I am extremely biased
It is a support for parents, church leaders, seminary teachers, high school teachers, seminary students, and upcoming seminary students (aka “seminary students to-be”). Why is it important to them? For parents- well, parents wake up at six o’clock in the morning to drive their children to seminary. Their children loose sleep for it. I think that expressing the value of seminary reassures these parents that their sacrifices are for something good- that in sacrificing an hour or so of sleep, they allow their children to have a daily experience which is beneficial to their daily lives.
Seminary teachers would benefit from hearing a student express the value of seminary because sometimes being a seminary teacher can be a thankless job. I do not know this from first-hand experience, however, I am aware of it through watching teachers. One day last year Brother Dysart got extremely upset- upset for him at least (it was pretty calm compared other peoples’ tempers that I’ve seen; he must just be a very placid sort of man)- because he had worked hard at his lesson, and what was the class doing? Well, one third wasn’t present, another third was sleeping, and the last third (excepting maybe two students) were talking. I felt bad for him (especially since I was one of the talking students…). It was the only day that he ever got upset with us like that. It really was. Freshman year Brother Sellers had a hard time as well. He had a bunch of obnoxious freshman boys who like to think they’re funny (okay, so they are actually pretty funny, I’ve realized now that they and I have matured a bit, but at the time I just got annoyed with them for detracting from my learning experience), and who would spend most of seminary talking. Poor Brother Sellers.
Such a previously explained explanation would benefit seminary students and seminary students-to-be because it will show them how seminary can impact their lives and how beneficial it can be for them. And also how much many current seminary students enjoy and reap great rewards from attending, and learning in, seminary.
Four hundred and seventy nine words. That’s not enough! Okay, so now it’s four hundred and ninety eight words. Fantastic. I’m done. (501)
Well, in conclusion, why is this topic important? ‘cuz it’s good to know what’s going on, and it’s also good to reassure people that things they do (or can do) are for their benefit. The end.
Essay structure invention- “what?”
What evidence shows that seminary being a good community for high school students is true?
The fact that high school students who attend regularly and who are willing to benefit from the class, are generally happy people who work hard at doing well in school and at being good people.
Isaac, Spencer, David, and Derek are pretty happy young men. They come to seminary in the morning often tired, but still retaining their good sense of humor. This was especially so today when Sister Utterback said that she brought donuts for the class. “Yeee-es!!” said Isaac. He, David, Spencer and Derek pretty much went very quickly over to the donuts. But it’s not just about donuts, you see, it’s also about behavior outside of the classroom. While I may not be well acquainted with all of these four boys, I do feel comfortable around them. I know that if I am around them they will not say anything inappropriate- no swearing, cussing, vulgar language, dirty jokes, sexual innuendos- none of that which when I hear it makes me cringe. What’s also nice is, for example, in my contemporary world issues (CWI) class that I had last year, Isaac was in it. And we would talk about different things- like gay marriage- in that class that tend to be very controversial issues. I absolutely loved it when we broached the topic of gay marriage and I was able to exchange a look with Isaac, and could tell that he was thinking, “ugh… gay marriage is not right; and I don’t really want to talk about it”. Or when in Mr. Larsen’s class our freshman year, Mr. Larsen drew an excessive amount of attention to the male genitalia on a Greek statue, and the female “endowments” (that’s what we’ll call the breasts)- the upstanding LDS boys (who, by the way, are in my seminary class) looked away and groaned at the teacher’s audacity. With these young men I don’t have to worry about them viewing my body as an object to be admired and that being the sole reason they enjoy my company. They are not that worldly.
You see, being LDS, we have values, and standards, and morals and we try to adhere to them like tape, sticking up for what we believe in. But sometimes, Sunday worship service and Sunday school just aren’t enough. In our society which can be so corrupt and vulgar at times, we often need daily uplifting. Daily reminders of who we are and what we stand for. Seminary does this for today’s LDS youth. It helps us at this critical deciding time in our lives to stick to what we believe and stand up for it.
Of course, in my example about the young men being upstanding, that goes two ways. I know young men who are extremely thankful for the large amount of girls who dress and behave modestly. Some of them like to say, “modest is hottest!!”, which always gets a laugh, but is also nice for the young women to hear. They don’t feel pressured around these good LDS girls to think about sex or other inappropriate behaviors. They are able to concentrate on the girls’ personalities instead of being distracted by their more physical endowments.
Essay structure invention- “how?”
How does the thesis stand up to the challenge of a counter-argument?
How does the introduction of new material affect the claims I’m making?
Possible argument: these students are just raised to be good students, and seminary doesn’t make a difference one way or the other because that’s just who they are.
Possible counter-argument: wrong. These students may or may not have good parents who raise them well, and may not have other good environments to be in in order to have their standards upheld. And if they do, well, good for them. However- seminary makes a difference because it reinforces what is taught at home and expounds on that. Often nowadays parents don’t have much time to sit down with their kids and teach them about their religion and in-depth teach them about good standards and values and morals and about how to uphold those and such. This is unfortunate, but it happens. Students come to seminary and learn things that parents don’t teach them at home (whether that be because of neglect to teach or just lack of time or knowledge). We are reminded about how bad choices lead to bad consequences and given scriptural advice concerning these matters as well. Seminary supports what a student already knows and does, making it easier to live making good decisions.
Possible argument (including new material): there are seminary students that don’t make very good choices- that do drugs, have sex, etc. yet they attend seminary regularly. Obviously seminary doesn’t make a difference in their lives.
Possible counter-argument: these students don’t care about seminary. But it’s more than that- they don’t follow their religion, and since seminary is a support to religion and faith, there must be faith and a willingness or conviction to follow what they know is right. Students that don’t have that attitude, that willingness or conviction, don’t have anything for seminary to augment. They go to seminary and very little of the lessons taught there affect them because they are not willing to accept them.
Possible argument: seminary just teaches a bunch of religious “hoo-ha”, or junk.
Possible counter-argument: seminary doesn’t teach a bunch of religious “hoo-ha” (that is soo fun to say!!). It teaches our religion, and that includes things like having good standards and integrity. Good standards such as being honest and hard working and respectful towards people. Keeping good care of your body- not drinking alcohol (ever), doing drugs, we even talk about getting enough sleep! (of course, most of the seminary students have a lot of trouble with that one.) The students in my seminary class that “walk the talk” (act on what they believe) are great students. They follow the counsel of the president of our church and study hard and work hard and uphold their standards.
I like my seminary class, and no one can convince me that it is a worthless class. I like going to the church in the morning before school and starting my day off learning about my religion and about the scriptures. I like the people that I meet through seminary and how they give me a support group for staying true to what I believe.
essay #2 invention- seminary community
A Little-known Community
Essay #2 invention for Engl 110
Cassà nndrè Sager
29 October 2006
There is a community that is well-known among those who partake of my culture. Outside of my culture, people have rarely heard of it. Many times they do not understand why people choose to be a part of this community (of course, some people in the community itself don’t quite understand why they must be members of it, but that is another topic for another time).
It is not an ethnic, cultural, or interest-based community. There are Hispanics, Caucasions, African-Americans, Asians, Indians, and just about any race you could think of- in my community. Some play instruments, others play X-box. Some play both. Some want to grow up to be doctors, others engineers, software developers, musicians, accountants, mothers, fathers. Some have six siblings. Some have none. Some are gregarious and popular. Others are introverted, and not well-known. Even others still are made fun of by the general population. Some moved 7 times in their lives before the age of 18. Others have lived in the same house all their life. Some come from wealthy families that own nice cars. Others require financial aid for their groceries.
What could this incredibly diverse and unfamiliar community be? What ties all of these people together? It is seminary.
Is seminary really that diverse? Is it really that unfamiliar? And while we’re at it, asking questions about it- what in the world is seminary?!!
Dictionary.com offers ideas as to the definition, some of which come very close:
1. a special school providing education in theology, religious history, etc., primarily to prepare students for the priesthood, ministry, or rabbinate.
2. a school, esp. one of higher grade.
3. a school of secondary or higher level for young women.
4. a place of origin and propagation: a seminary of discontent.
5. A place or environment in which something is developed or nurtured.
However, none of those definitions tell you much about my seminary community. Before I attempt at a definition which not even a dictionary can achieve, perhaps I will try a different route to explaining this community.
5:20am. 97.3 is blasting music in my room, telling me to wake up, or else. I wake up, somewhat, and press the snooze button until about 5:30 or 5:45 (depending on what time I went to bed the previous night…). Then I get dressed, get breakfast, make myself pretty, nag my brother about being ready on time, tell our parents we’re just about ready, get my younger sisters awake and in the living room for family prayer. The elder of the two is on the couch with her huge quilt bundled about her, looking like a giant purple slug, within two minutes. It takes the younger about 3 minutes to be convinced to open her eyes. Another 2 to sit up. Then another 3 to actually get out of bed. (I am exaggerating this very little.) Parents come out. Family prayer. Then Mom or Dad take my brother and I out to the car (“Do you mind if I have shotgun, Rob?”), and then we’re on our way in the dark to the church building, arriving there within three minutes.
By now it’s usually about 6:15 or 6:20. We are late. Again. Why are we always late? It starts at 6:15, is it really such a problem to be ready at 6:10 or 6:05? We were on time everyday last week, why not this week? Oh well. It doesn’t really matter, I rationalize, because everyone else is usually late, too. Entering the foyer, there are several students my age who are procrastinating. We stand around a chat about school, dances, and how tired we are. I break through the little crowd and find my way to my classroom. (My classroom is one of the larger ones and actually has a piano because it happens to be where the young children go during church on Sundays.)
On days that I am (miraculously) early, Sisters Utterback and O’Neill are standing at the head of the classroom, talking, or finishing up last minute preparations for their lesson. That is not today, however. So I quietly walk in, trying to close the whining door softly behind me. There is a student with a Hymn book in hand pretending the conduct the music with the other. I watch, amused, as she spells her name in the air in cursive- nice try. Good thing no one’s watching her conduct anyhow. Since most of us are still half-asleep we mumble more than sing the song. Then the same student gives a devotional- I short, spiritual thought to start the day, and is followed by another student who says the opening prayer.
By this point I am at my table beside Marianne, feeling glad for the opportunity to complain about how my family made me late to seminary- again and how my parents still won’t let me drive to seminary. Today is Sister Utterback’s turn to teach the lesson.
“Good morning! Did you all get a lot of sleep last night?”
The awake students grunt. The ones that are working on catching up have their heads on their desks. Sister Utterback shoots the latter a sympathetic yet stern look- one only a mother could master.
“How did the football game against Kentlake go last night? Did Kentwood win?” Today Isaac, Derek, and Spencer have a funny story to share about that. They engage us in their tale of being caught by the security guard for drinking. Sister Utterback laughs at this. You must understand, dear reader, that these three young men were not actually drunk, nor have they ever considered drinking once in their lives. This is why the story is so remarkably funny. They are the least likely to be suspected of such a crime. The security guard pulled them aside from the bleachers and asked them,
“Have you been drinking?”
He gets a chorus of quizzical looks, followed by a slight pause, and then “no.” He looks at them suspiciously, wondering whether to trust these possible juvenile delinquents, but finally, after a bit of conversing, decides that they are perfectly sober young men, and releases them to enjoy the rest of the football game.
Derek gets a bit excited in the midst of telling this story, saying, “I was thinking ‘dude, we’re Mormon! we don’t drink! We don’t even watch R movies!’” (An aside- the type of “Mormon” that Derek is referring to is the type that actually follow their beliefs and stick to their standards.)
Sister Utterback allows the class a few moments of laughter and chatting (remember- she’s a mother, but also a teacher, and so knows how to handle us obnoxious sleepy-heads quite well). Then she grabs our attention and says, “That was a very funny story, Derek. Okay everyone, grab your scriptures, we are in Doctrine and Covenants section 29 today. Aubrey, will you read a verse from Matthew for me before we go into D&C? Thank you, the verse is….”
And the lesson finally starts. At 7:00am we have a closing prayer, and then all of the students leave for school. The teachers pack up their belongings and leave not too long afterwards. And the church is quiet.
What are the lessons in seminary about? They vary, depending on what scriptures we are focusing on. They are lessons that are centered around faith, repentance, gospel ordinances, consequences, long-term perspective, endurance, standards, integrity, respect, gratitude, knowledge, serving others, divine nature, individual worth, serving God, and many other such topics.
Dictionary.com wasn’t too far off the mark when it gave the definitions of, “a special school providing education in theology, religious history, etc.,” and “A place or environment in which something is developed or nurtured.” Seminary is where youth of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (also known by the common nickname of the Mormon church; often abbreviated to the LDS church) gather to learn daily about their religion and to be supported, nurtured, and instructed in living happy and fulfilling lives.
Many youth dislike seminary, or have days when they don’t want to go. However, we all eventually realize that it pays off. When asked what’s so good about seminary, many youth say something along the lines of, “it gets me through my day. I love starting my day with it because it just starts me off on the right foot. I notice a big difference on days when I go to school but don’t go to seminary- everything is harder and I don’t feel as good or happy.” Also, in the long run, these youth learn good standards and how to maintain them, thus eventually becoming successful adults who make a difference in the world.
This is the community which I am a part of every morning. This is the community that I loose a full hour of sleep for each morning. This is the community that I would never trade. This is seminary.
Essay #2 invention for Engl 110
Cassà nndrè Sager
29 October 2006
There is a community that is well-known among those who partake of my culture. Outside of my culture, people have rarely heard of it. Many times they do not understand why people choose to be a part of this community (of course, some people in the community itself don’t quite understand why they must be members of it, but that is another topic for another time).
It is not an ethnic, cultural, or interest-based community. There are Hispanics, Caucasions, African-Americans, Asians, Indians, and just about any race you could think of- in my community. Some play instruments, others play X-box. Some play both. Some want to grow up to be doctors, others engineers, software developers, musicians, accountants, mothers, fathers. Some have six siblings. Some have none. Some are gregarious and popular. Others are introverted, and not well-known. Even others still are made fun of by the general population. Some moved 7 times in their lives before the age of 18. Others have lived in the same house all their life. Some come from wealthy families that own nice cars. Others require financial aid for their groceries.
What could this incredibly diverse and unfamiliar community be? What ties all of these people together? It is seminary.
Is seminary really that diverse? Is it really that unfamiliar? And while we’re at it, asking questions about it- what in the world is seminary?!!
Dictionary.com offers ideas as to the definition, some of which come very close:
1. a special school providing education in theology, religious history, etc., primarily to prepare students for the priesthood, ministry, or rabbinate.
2. a school, esp. one of higher grade.
3. a school of secondary or higher level for young women.
4. a place of origin and propagation: a seminary of discontent.
5. A place or environment in which something is developed or nurtured.
However, none of those definitions tell you much about my seminary community. Before I attempt at a definition which not even a dictionary can achieve, perhaps I will try a different route to explaining this community.
5:20am. 97.3 is blasting music in my room, telling me to wake up, or else. I wake up, somewhat, and press the snooze button until about 5:30 or 5:45 (depending on what time I went to bed the previous night…). Then I get dressed, get breakfast, make myself pretty, nag my brother about being ready on time, tell our parents we’re just about ready, get my younger sisters awake and in the living room for family prayer. The elder of the two is on the couch with her huge quilt bundled about her, looking like a giant purple slug, within two minutes. It takes the younger about 3 minutes to be convinced to open her eyes. Another 2 to sit up. Then another 3 to actually get out of bed. (I am exaggerating this very little.) Parents come out. Family prayer. Then Mom or Dad take my brother and I out to the car (“Do you mind if I have shotgun, Rob?”), and then we’re on our way in the dark to the church building, arriving there within three minutes.
By now it’s usually about 6:15 or 6:20. We are late. Again. Why are we always late? It starts at 6:15, is it really such a problem to be ready at 6:10 or 6:05? We were on time everyday last week, why not this week? Oh well. It doesn’t really matter, I rationalize, because everyone else is usually late, too. Entering the foyer, there are several students my age who are procrastinating. We stand around a chat about school, dances, and how tired we are. I break through the little crowd and find my way to my classroom. (My classroom is one of the larger ones and actually has a piano because it happens to be where the young children go during church on Sundays.)
On days that I am (miraculously) early, Sisters Utterback and O’Neill are standing at the head of the classroom, talking, or finishing up last minute preparations for their lesson. That is not today, however. So I quietly walk in, trying to close the whining door softly behind me. There is a student with a Hymn book in hand pretending the conduct the music with the other. I watch, amused, as she spells her name in the air in cursive- nice try. Good thing no one’s watching her conduct anyhow. Since most of us are still half-asleep we mumble more than sing the song. Then the same student gives a devotional- I short, spiritual thought to start the day, and is followed by another student who says the opening prayer.
By this point I am at my table beside Marianne, feeling glad for the opportunity to complain about how my family made me late to seminary- again and how my parents still won’t let me drive to seminary. Today is Sister Utterback’s turn to teach the lesson.
“Good morning! Did you all get a lot of sleep last night?”
The awake students grunt. The ones that are working on catching up have their heads on their desks. Sister Utterback shoots the latter a sympathetic yet stern look- one only a mother could master.
“How did the football game against Kentlake go last night? Did Kentwood win?” Today Isaac, Derek, and Spencer have a funny story to share about that. They engage us in their tale of being caught by the security guard for drinking. Sister Utterback laughs at this. You must understand, dear reader, that these three young men were not actually drunk, nor have they ever considered drinking once in their lives. This is why the story is so remarkably funny. They are the least likely to be suspected of such a crime. The security guard pulled them aside from the bleachers and asked them,
“Have you been drinking?”
He gets a chorus of quizzical looks, followed by a slight pause, and then “no.” He looks at them suspiciously, wondering whether to trust these possible juvenile delinquents, but finally, after a bit of conversing, decides that they are perfectly sober young men, and releases them to enjoy the rest of the football game.
Derek gets a bit excited in the midst of telling this story, saying, “I was thinking ‘dude, we’re Mormon! we don’t drink! We don’t even watch R movies!’” (An aside- the type of “Mormon” that Derek is referring to is the type that actually follow their beliefs and stick to their standards.)
Sister Utterback allows the class a few moments of laughter and chatting (remember- she’s a mother, but also a teacher, and so knows how to handle us obnoxious sleepy-heads quite well). Then she grabs our attention and says, “That was a very funny story, Derek. Okay everyone, grab your scriptures, we are in Doctrine and Covenants section 29 today. Aubrey, will you read a verse from Matthew for me before we go into D&C? Thank you, the verse is….”
And the lesson finally starts. At 7:00am we have a closing prayer, and then all of the students leave for school. The teachers pack up their belongings and leave not too long afterwards. And the church is quiet.
What are the lessons in seminary about? They vary, depending on what scriptures we are focusing on. They are lessons that are centered around faith, repentance, gospel ordinances, consequences, long-term perspective, endurance, standards, integrity, respect, gratitude, knowledge, serving others, divine nature, individual worth, serving God, and many other such topics.
Dictionary.com wasn’t too far off the mark when it gave the definitions of, “a special school providing education in theology, religious history, etc.,” and “A place or environment in which something is developed or nurtured.” Seminary is where youth of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (also known by the common nickname of the Mormon church; often abbreviated to the LDS church) gather to learn daily about their religion and to be supported, nurtured, and instructed in living happy and fulfilling lives.
Many youth dislike seminary, or have days when they don’t want to go. However, we all eventually realize that it pays off. When asked what’s so good about seminary, many youth say something along the lines of, “it gets me through my day. I love starting my day with it because it just starts me off on the right foot. I notice a big difference on days when I go to school but don’t go to seminary- everything is harder and I don’t feel as good or happy.” Also, in the long run, these youth learn good standards and how to maintain them, thus eventually becoming successful adults who make a difference in the world.
This is the community which I am a part of every morning. This is the community that I loose a full hour of sleep for each morning. This is the community that I would never trade. This is seminary.
The Joy of Reading
Engl 110- Crappy Rough Draft #2 (essay 1)- october 2006
There is this Gilmore Girls episode where one of the main characters, Rory, is showing a girl around the Yale Library. Rory walks up to the old books, takes one out of the shelf, opens it, and then extends it towards the girl, saying, “smell that! That is just the best smell in the world! I love it!! Don’t you love it?!!” Well, Rory, I happen to love it.
It's Sunday morning, and I get up out of bed. (I am a young elementary school child.) Go ask mom if I Can watch TV? No. It's Sunday. Just find something quiet to do. So I walk around our little apartment, bored, trying to figure out what to do. No TV. Brownies are off-limits. I see my mom's bookshelf, full of books from her college days and then just books that she likes and has collected over the years. I wander over to the bookshelf and take an old black book off the shelf. The corners of the cover are twisted in like they've just met up with a curling iron. The edge of the binding is slightly frayed. The blackness is undergoing a graying process; it is more black with gray spotches than it is just black- like my grandpa's hair. With the book closed, I can see the pages in between the front and back covers. They are uneven. I run my finger along the uneven, yellowed pages, feeling the texture of the book. I am in love with this book and I have not even opened it yet. It has texture and substance. It is interesting.
I open up the book. The words aren't typed in what we know as Times New Roman, but they are typed in what I know as Courier New. Intriguing. I continue to look at it. There are blue lines under the text and words written in the margins. I turn the page over and feel the back- I can feel the lines and words! The handwritting is nice, but the letters are slurred togethor. Sort of like a combination between print and cursive- the sort of combination that many people resort to when writing by hand in a hurry. There are many phrases here and there that are underlined. Many little phrases written off to the side. Circles around some words. Sometimes the lines turn from being straight to being squiggly. Sometimes the circles take on the shape of boxes. They all form a sort of jungle-gym, and I can feel them embossed on the other side of the page. I close my eyes and run my fingers across these embossed markings. I pretend that I am blind. However, I realize, If I were really blind, I would actually understand what I'm feeling. I then wonder, Why are these things underlined and drawn on? What makes that phrase so important, and that one ignored?
I lean closer to the book, I don't remember why, I just did. And then I discover the best part of old books. I lean in. Breath in. There it is. The loveliest smell in the whole world. It is a deep, warm smell. Strong like perfume. I think of the color brown. And of pot-pouri. It is a heavy smell. I smell the book, and then an army of molecules came surging towards me, ready to both please and overwhelm my olfactory senses. My eyes are closed. I take another breath- deep and slow, filling my diaphragm and then lungs with the savory scent. I want to read this book. I want to know what it has to say. And with that, I hopelessly dive into this world of books. I've fallen in love, and can't climb out of love. Nor do I want to.
That thought- I want to know what [this book] has to say- has influenced my reading. Various qualities of a book attract my initial attention. Those qualities can vary from the smell, the cover drawing, the title, the summary, the opinion of others... However, what secures my attention is when a deep curiosity is aroused. I want to know how Mr. Darcy and Lizzy fall in love. I go crazy trying to figure out what secret Mr. Rochester is hiding from Jane. Mr. DeWinter from Mrs. DeWinter. I pull my hair out wondering how it is that the little strings drawn on the cover are (theoretically) the basis of our universe. Once I have this yearning curiosity that makes my soul feel like it will be wrenched out if I don't satisfy it, well, that's when I pick up a book. And don't put it down. Until that curiosity is satisfied.
At the age of five (maybe four, maybe six), I had my baby blanket tied around my neck. It used to be pink, but is worn now, so much, to the point that it is white. I ran back and forth in the apartment with Baby Bear, my beloved panda bear who had gone everywhere with me since the age of six months (he would even be a princess with me a couple of halloweens later). I was a superhero. I was saving the world from... who knows what (I certainly don't remember)? And what did I have in my hand? The Random-House French Dictionary. Pocket sized.
"Mom, how do you say 'cat' in French?"
"Look it up."
Do you hear that sound? The fervent flipping of pages? It comes only when one seeks desperately for that one place where the answer to the world's biggest question lies (at the very least, the answer for this very moment). "'castor, casuel, catalogue, cataracte..." (I butcher those words) "Mom! There's no cat!" I'm complaining; whining.
Mom glances up from the kitchen counter, and looks at me. She takes into account where in the book I am looking, and the words that came out of my young mouth. "You're looking in the wrong section. You're in French to English, not English to French. You need to go to the back of the book."
So I faithfully travel to the farther back pages. Categorical- it must be on this page. "castaway- n. naufrage m., rjete m." Nope, not this one. "castigate- bv. chatier, punir." Still not the right one. Am I ever going to find it? "castle..castoff.. casua... casualties... cat! here it is!!"
" Okay, good job. What's the word?"
"... chat?..." I pronounce this like the english word 'chat' which means 'to talk informally'.
Mom chuckles a bit. "Not quite. Almost. In French it's pronounced 'shot'".
"oh... wait, so cats are shots? That doesn't make sense! Poor kitties!"
Despite the fact that cats and shots are synonymous in French (which is absolutely awful), I walked around with that book, learning the language, one word at time. (Until I stopped learnng and forgot it all.) Not that I ever learned very much, but the French dictionary captured my attention, and retained it, making me wonder, "how do I say such-and-such in French?" And with that, I continued to wonder what a book contained, Do I care about what's in that book? Is it interesting? If it is, I can probably learn from it! French began my introduction to non-fiction books.
Nowadays, when I read non-fiction, it ranges from american sign language to physics. I have a book by Stephen Hawking on my bookshelf. Another two by Brian Greene- these two are about string theory- the theory that may just unite general relativity and quantum mechanics. I have a book which discusses the nature/nurture debate. Another book in which a journalist chronicles a man's love for his brother, who has become sick, and whose life must be saved. Another book which is the story of an adult man who finally develops language. ASL dictionaries; Swahili phrasebook; Spanish books; The Book of Mormon in six different languages; German. I have a Keep It Simple Stupid guide to photography. I have the Student's Handbook, which technically belongs to my whole family, but is under the care of me. I have drawing books. Various novels... and so forth.
I peer tutor in the developmentally disabled (DD) department at Kentwood High School. I really enjoy this. The teenagers there are, overall, delightful, wonderful people who are happy with their lot in life. I hear the teachers talking about something having to do with Autism, or Down's Syndrome, or teaching methods, and I get curious. "What is ______?" They give me an answer, but I still have questions. I write down whatever it is I wonder about, and then by the time I am home, I log online and head to Google. From there I google the term, and learn about it. I have a new curiosity, and I will not stop reading till that hunger is satisfied! This process of looking up things which I don't know has stemmed from my initial curiosity and love for books. When "I don't know" is my answer (and I care to get the real one), I head to the written word of what it is my question is about. It's simple. I get the feedback.
Aside from constantly learning from the DD teenagers, I also am presented with a greater perspective. Reading has always come easily to me, and often I forget that for others it is much, much more difficult to read and get enjoyment out of it. I often wonder, if I couldn't read as well, would I enjoy it? Would it hold the same feeling of captivation for me as it does now? I think it might. I see these awesome teenagers struggle to read (some especially more than others), and I think to myself, that would suck. But then someone finally gets through whatever it is he or she is reading, and it is such a happy event. Finished! Triumphed! At those moments I realize that I have that exact same feeling with reading. My little sister just about has a party when she finishes a Winnie-the-Pooh book. I feel the exact same way when I finish a Jane Austen book. Finding out what a book has to say can result in happiness and self-satisfaction- no matter what book it is or what reading level it is geared towards. Whether it has that new book smell with glossy pages, or if it is yellow and smells of pot-pouri. It matters not. I am determined to be happy- because I can read, and in turn, can continue to learn.
The Joy of Reading
There is this Gilmore Girls episode where one of the main characters, Rory, is showing a girl around the Yale Library. Rory walks up to the old books, takes one out of the shelf, opens it, and then extends it towards the girl, saying, “smell that! That is just the best smell in the world! I love it!! Don’t you love it?!!” Well, Rory, I happen to love it.
It's Sunday morning, and I get up out of bed. (I am a young elementary school child.) Go ask mom if I Can watch TV? No. It's Sunday. Just find something quiet to do. So I walk around our little apartment, bored, trying to figure out what to do. No TV. Brownies are off-limits. I see my mom's bookshelf, full of books from her college days and then just books that she likes and has collected over the years. I wander over to the bookshelf and take an old black book off the shelf. The corners of the cover are twisted in like they've just met up with a curling iron. The edge of the binding is slightly frayed. The blackness is undergoing a graying process; it is more black with gray spotches than it is just black- like my grandpa's hair. With the book closed, I can see the pages in between the front and back covers. They are uneven. I run my finger along the uneven, yellowed pages, feeling the texture of the book. I am in love with this book and I have not even opened it yet. It has texture and substance. It is interesting.
I open up the book. The words aren't typed in what we know as Times New Roman, but they are typed in what I know as Courier New. Intriguing. I continue to look at it. There are blue lines under the text and words written in the margins. I turn the page over and feel the back- I can feel the lines and words! The handwritting is nice, but the letters are slurred togethor. Sort of like a combination between print and cursive- the sort of combination that many people resort to when writing by hand in a hurry. There are many phrases here and there that are underlined. Many little phrases written off to the side. Circles around some words. Sometimes the lines turn from being straight to being squiggly. Sometimes the circles take on the shape of boxes. They all form a sort of jungle-gym, and I can feel them embossed on the other side of the page. I close my eyes and run my fingers across these embossed markings. I pretend that I am blind. However, I realize, If I were really blind, I would actually understand what I'm feeling. I then wonder, Why are these things underlined and drawn on? What makes that phrase so important, and that one ignored?
I lean closer to the book, I don't remember why, I just did. And then I discover the best part of old books. I lean in. Breath in. There it is. The loveliest smell in the whole world. It is a deep, warm smell. Strong like perfume. I think of the color brown. And of pot-pouri. It is a heavy smell. I smell the book, and then an army of molecules came surging towards me, ready to both please and overwhelm my olfactory senses. My eyes are closed. I take another breath- deep and slow, filling my diaphragm and then lungs with the savory scent. I want to read this book. I want to know what it has to say. And with that, I hopelessly dive into this world of books. I've fallen in love, and can't climb out of love. Nor do I want to.
That thought- I want to know what [this book] has to say- has influenced my reading. Various qualities of a book attract my initial attention. Those qualities can vary from the smell, the cover drawing, the title, the summary, the opinion of others... However, what secures my attention is when a deep curiosity is aroused. I want to know how Mr. Darcy and Lizzy fall in love. I go crazy trying to figure out what secret Mr. Rochester is hiding from Jane. Mr. DeWinter from Mrs. DeWinter. I pull my hair out wondering how it is that the little strings drawn on the cover are (theoretically) the basis of our universe. Once I have this yearning curiosity that makes my soul feel like it will be wrenched out if I don't satisfy it, well, that's when I pick up a book. And don't put it down. Until that curiosity is satisfied.
At the age of five (maybe four, maybe six), I had my baby blanket tied around my neck. It used to be pink, but is worn now, so much, to the point that it is white. I ran back and forth in the apartment with Baby Bear, my beloved panda bear who had gone everywhere with me since the age of six months (he would even be a princess with me a couple of halloweens later). I was a superhero. I was saving the world from... who knows what (I certainly don't remember)? And what did I have in my hand? The Random-House French Dictionary. Pocket sized.
"Mom, how do you say 'cat' in French?"
"Look it up."
Do you hear that sound? The fervent flipping of pages? It comes only when one seeks desperately for that one place where the answer to the world's biggest question lies (at the very least, the answer for this very moment). "'castor, casuel, catalogue, cataracte..." (I butcher those words) "Mom! There's no cat!" I'm complaining; whining.
Mom glances up from the kitchen counter, and looks at me. She takes into account where in the book I am looking, and the words that came out of my young mouth. "You're looking in the wrong section. You're in French to English, not English to French. You need to go to the back of the book."
So I faithfully travel to the farther back pages. Categorical- it must be on this page. "castaway- n. naufrage m., rjete m." Nope, not this one. "castigate- bv. chatier, punir." Still not the right one. Am I ever going to find it? "castle..castoff.. casua... casualties... cat! here it is!!"
" Okay, good job. What's the word?"
"... chat?..." I pronounce this like the english word 'chat' which means 'to talk informally'.
Mom chuckles a bit. "Not quite. Almost. In French it's pronounced 'shot'".
"oh... wait, so cats are shots? That doesn't make sense! Poor kitties!"
Despite the fact that cats and shots are synonymous in French (which is absolutely awful), I walked around with that book, learning the language, one word at time. (Until I stopped learnng and forgot it all.) Not that I ever learned very much, but the French dictionary captured my attention, and retained it, making me wonder, "how do I say such-and-such in French?" And with that, I continued to wonder what a book contained, Do I care about what's in that book? Is it interesting? If it is, I can probably learn from it! French began my introduction to non-fiction books.
Nowadays, when I read non-fiction, it ranges from american sign language to physics. I have a book by Stephen Hawking on my bookshelf. Another two by Brian Greene- these two are about string theory- the theory that may just unite general relativity and quantum mechanics. I have a book which discusses the nature/nurture debate. Another book in which a journalist chronicles a man's love for his brother, who has become sick, and whose life must be saved. Another book which is the story of an adult man who finally develops language. ASL dictionaries; Swahili phrasebook; Spanish books; The Book of Mormon in six different languages; German. I have a Keep It Simple Stupid guide to photography. I have the Student's Handbook, which technically belongs to my whole family, but is under the care of me. I have drawing books. Various novels... and so forth.
I peer tutor in the developmentally disabled (DD) department at Kentwood High School. I really enjoy this. The teenagers there are, overall, delightful, wonderful people who are happy with their lot in life. I hear the teachers talking about something having to do with Autism, or Down's Syndrome, or teaching methods, and I get curious. "What is ______?" They give me an answer, but I still have questions. I write down whatever it is I wonder about, and then by the time I am home, I log online and head to Google. From there I google the term, and learn about it. I have a new curiosity, and I will not stop reading till that hunger is satisfied! This process of looking up things which I don't know has stemmed from my initial curiosity and love for books. When "I don't know" is my answer (and I care to get the real one), I head to the written word of what it is my question is about. It's simple. I get the feedback.
Aside from constantly learning from the DD teenagers, I also am presented with a greater perspective. Reading has always come easily to me, and often I forget that for others it is much, much more difficult to read and get enjoyment out of it. I often wonder, if I couldn't read as well, would I enjoy it? Would it hold the same feeling of captivation for me as it does now? I think it might. I see these awesome teenagers struggle to read (some especially more than others), and I think to myself, that would suck. But then someone finally gets through whatever it is he or she is reading, and it is such a happy event. Finished! Triumphed! At those moments I realize that I have that exact same feeling with reading. My little sister just about has a party when she finishes a Winnie-the-Pooh book. I feel the exact same way when I finish a Jane Austen book. Finding out what a book has to say can result in happiness and self-satisfaction- no matter what book it is or what reading level it is geared towards. Whether it has that new book smell with glossy pages, or if it is yellow and smells of pot-pouri. It matters not. I am determined to be happy- because I can read, and in turn, can continue to learn.
23 October 2006
freewrite #11- started to fall asleep a couple times during this one...
Freewrite #11
Chalise sat down to her new book, treasuring the site of it. She always loved reading. It transported her to a world which was completely separate from her own. Oh the joy of reading! She thought. As she began to immerse herself into the book, she fell in love with the romantic interest. Who couldn’t fallin love with him? He was soo very attractive. Not too tall so as to tower unreachable over her, but not too short so that he was eye level with her. She had to look up just a little for he was only a couple of inches above her. He had light He had dark hair and light blue eyes. The most gorgeous eyes ever, she thought. She imagined him walking towards her. Had someone been watching her as she daydreamed, that someone would have noticed that Chalise was sitting with her head up, moth half open, eyes closed, and a silly, giddy, smile on her face. The attractive man walked towards her still… her heart began to beat more quickly- oh, how lovely his eyes are! She thought. He was only a few inches away and she could smell his cologne- how lovely is that smell? I once smelled that smell before, and upon smelling it I told myself, “If if a guy ever smelled like that and wasn’t creepy, I’d fall in love with him” wlel, this guy isn’t creepy, and he smells like that. I am falling in love. He gives me his hand, askes me to dance- finall someone at the stake dances that actually asks girls to dance! He has a nice firm hand, holding tightly onto mine, like he never wants to let go. Oh, I am in love! Or so Chalise thinks.
Or so Chalise thinks. He looks at her, gazing deeply into her eyes. Of coruse she is gazing back, ferfe fervently awaiting whatever it is that he has to say. “you have mustard on your nose!!”
What?! Mustard!!!! Oh, it’s only Billy. Stupid little brother, disrupting Chalise’s dadream- again. Why is it that everytime my one true love is aobut to say something reall really special and romantic, Billy interrupts? Welll, Chalise, such is the life of having younger siblings, or r rather, the fate of of those with siblings, whether they be younger older or the same age.
Back to her daydream… no, it’s not happening. Chalise can no longer go back to that one, Billy ruined it. She tried and tried, but she could never recapture the moment as it played out in her head. She blamed this on Billy. Everytime the main character love interest was about to saying something to her that was amazingly romantic, she heard Billy’s voice excape his throat, saying “you’ve got mustard on you no your nose!!” and there was nothing she could do to erase him. S tuck there forever.
Chalise sighs, upset that this is haer fate. It’s unfortunate, but true. So much for kissing- I can’t e eeven kiss some made up guy in my daydreams because he’s not realy and I’ve never met him. I haven’t been up to much lately- just homework and such. Lots of homework, and of coruse I’ve been turning morst of it in ontime now ( rob doesn’t have an appt till Wednesday, which is what I thought you were calling about really.
Next year, Mary is thinking about not doing footall, but doing track. I think it’d be pretty cool to have a diver do sdim, and he in several things tend to by more psyach. Some classes seem really interesting to me, but I know, for example, that I couldn’ tget pie plates medez. Isn’t that interesting? I thought so, esp. since last noped as long and stinno tassic with floow!! See you now! Love ya!
Cassn
SD. Okay,
Well, I happen to be getting very quiet. I wonder if I’ve been taying anything youldn’t that be funny if I were… In fact, I really wouldn’t surprised. Oh, how about, I’m awake again, looking at what I’ve written, and I think I started to fall asleep after “I think it’d be pretty cool to have ….” A diver do swim? Mary’s not a diver- I am. And he in several things tend to be more psyach- in several ways mary tends to be more physical than me? I remember thinking of gymnastics just a few moments ago… I wonder what that was all about… Funny funny. I think my next freewrite I’ll let myself start to fall asleep, and then see what I write. Okay, well, off to that, now, since this here is about a page!
Chalise sat down to her new book, treasuring the site of it. She always loved reading. It transported her to a world which was completely separate from her own. Oh the joy of reading! She thought. As she began to immerse herself into the book, she fell in love with the romantic interest. Who couldn’t fallin love with him? He was soo very attractive. Not too tall so as to tower unreachable over her, but not too short so that he was eye level with her. She had to look up just a little for he was only a couple of inches above her. He had light He had dark hair and light blue eyes. The most gorgeous eyes ever, she thought. She imagined him walking towards her. Had someone been watching her as she daydreamed, that someone would have noticed that Chalise was sitting with her head up, moth half open, eyes closed, and a silly, giddy, smile on her face. The attractive man walked towards her still… her heart began to beat more quickly- oh, how lovely his eyes are! She thought. He was only a few inches away and she could smell his cologne- how lovely is that smell? I once smelled that smell before, and upon smelling it I told myself, “If if a guy ever smelled like that and wasn’t creepy, I’d fall in love with him” wlel, this guy isn’t creepy, and he smells like that. I am falling in love. He gives me his hand, askes me to dance- finall someone at the stake dances that actually asks girls to dance! He has a nice firm hand, holding tightly onto mine, like he never wants to let go. Oh, I am in love! Or so Chalise thinks.
Or so Chalise thinks. He looks at her, gazing deeply into her eyes. Of coruse she is gazing back, ferfe fervently awaiting whatever it is that he has to say. “you have mustard on your nose!!”
What?! Mustard!!!! Oh, it’s only Billy. Stupid little brother, disrupting Chalise’s dadream- again. Why is it that everytime my one true love is aobut to say something reall really special and romantic, Billy interrupts? Welll, Chalise, such is the life of having younger siblings, or r rather, the fate of of those with siblings, whether they be younger older or the same age.
Back to her daydream… no, it’s not happening. Chalise can no longer go back to that one, Billy ruined it. She tried and tried, but she could never recapture the moment as it played out in her head. She blamed this on Billy. Everytime the main character love interest was about to saying something to her that was amazingly romantic, she heard Billy’s voice excape his throat, saying “you’ve got mustard on you no your nose!!” and there was nothing she could do to erase him. S tuck there forever.
Chalise sighs, upset that this is haer fate. It’s unfortunate, but true. So much for kissing- I can’t e eeven kiss some made up guy in my daydreams because he’s not realy and I’ve never met him. I haven’t been up to much lately- just homework and such. Lots of homework, and of coruse I’ve been turning morst of it in ontime now ( rob doesn’t have an appt till Wednesday, which is what I thought you were calling about really.
Next year, Mary is thinking about not doing footall, but doing track. I think it’d be pretty cool to have a diver do sdim, and he in several things tend to by more psyach. Some classes seem really interesting to me, but I know, for example, that I couldn’ tget pie plates medez. Isn’t that interesting? I thought so, esp. since last noped as long and stinno tassic with floow!! See you now! Love ya!
Cassn
SD. Okay,
Well, I happen to be getting very quiet. I wonder if I’ve been taying anything youldn’t that be funny if I were… In fact, I really wouldn’t surprised. Oh, how about, I’m awake again, looking at what I’ve written, and I think I started to fall asleep after “I think it’d be pretty cool to have ….” A diver do swim? Mary’s not a diver- I am. And he in several things tend to be more psyach- in several ways mary tends to be more physical than me? I remember thinking of gymnastics just a few moments ago… I wonder what that was all about… Funny funny. I think my next freewrite I’ll let myself start to fall asleep, and then see what I write. Okay, well, off to that, now, since this here is about a page!
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