Effect Essay #8

This past year I have been undergoing the battle of trying to find the right antidepressant medication for me. I am now on trial number three. When you’re not feeling well in the first place, the last thing you want is to mess around with all sorts of medications that give you crappy side effects. But I assure you there is light at the end of the tunnel. When you finally find the right one for you, a light bulb will come on and you will notice the effects of having a right mind, a good feeling inside and a better outlook in life.

Before I started taking the med I felt tired all the time. No amount of coffee or Mt. Dew could make me feel energized what so ever. I was never like this; before I had my children I was full of energy and very athletic. But as most of you know, children can take lots of energy from a mother, but also while in the womb they flush your system out and soak up all of the necessary things for them to survive and grow. Especially your body’s vitamins and estrogen. So this is the first effect I noticed from my medication, which was energy and rejuvenation. I didn’t have to drag myself out of bed and wind myself up for the “different day, same shit” attitude. Now I’m up with a smile on my face and loving life.

Even though I have been through so much in my rollercoaster life, it doesn’t mean that I have the right to mope around all day and have a poor me negative attitude that just brings everyone down. The second effect of this medication and a little bit of a boost from a friend that has been in the same predicament (surrounding yourself with positive people is very good reinforcement) was, I noticed that I had a better sense of coping/dealing with issues. My children didn’t deserve a mother that didn’t feel that complete happiness in her soul or someone that just painted on faces for those days’ activities. They, including myself, deserved the real thing. I mean, you’re going to have the good and bad days; for example, when my mother calls and all’s she wants to talk about is how her life sucks because her once drug addicted husband(my stepfather) is jobless and their broke, and for the millionth time tells you that she is going to come visit you and the kids but I already know it’s a lie and she’s going to come up with some stupid excuse I have already heard over and over the next day why she couldn’t come down. I will always have this in my life and it will always hurt but now that I’m taking this medication I have found a way to cope and deal with it without letting it ruin mine or my families day.

The last effect that this has on me is one of the many but is probably the most important. Even though I have taken the med for a while and I’m feeling good, doesn’t mean I can stop taking it and be able to continue on feeling good because I absolutely cannot. For me to be so dependent on something and knowing that when I wake up in the morning for the rest of my life I will have to take something to make me feel myself, well, so be it. I see it as it’s not only making me feel good but its giving the lost pieces of me back that I have lost through the years and If I have to put an a reminder on my daily planner to take it every day or strategically place it by my tooth brush and make up then I will. I’ll do anything to keep myself under control because I love my life and my family.

If I just keep in mind of who I was before I was taking it; feeling exhausted and drained all day, ok one minute and crying the next, letting the bad days and negative people control my life. I remember that I really don’t want to feel like that again for my health’s sake and for the sake of my family. The reason I feel better in the first place is because of the medication so I will continue on with my happy self because I am in control of me now! 

This year's different (Essay #7)

                I anxiously wait all year long to enjoy the strings of lights that outline the houses, the big red decorative bows and wreaths on the front doors of others homes as I drive by. Somehow it seems to keep getting closer and closer to Christmas before we can do this, and it saddens me! So this year, I will step forward and say “So what if it’s before Thanksgiving!” and “So what if there’s no snow on the ground!” I am going to deck my house out with Christmas decorations now so that my family can enjoy it even longer!

            First I am going to go down into the basement and locate all of my boxes that are labeled “Christmas” in big permanent marker letters, which add up to be about 4 or 5  medium sized boxes. I bring them all upstairs and open them up just like its Christmas morning with a huge smile on my face. I carefully take them out one by one, each having its own unique memory popping into my head as it lay in my hand. From little ornaments that my children and I crafted up last year to the very first ones from when they were first born and even ones that I invented as a kid. It takes me back to the ever so delightful stroll down memory lane and shortly reminiscing on the good times.

             Then I let the children go to town, only after I do the MOST important thing you have to do before starting or it just isn’t the same! You flip, flip, flip through the overloaded cd case until you say “AHH HA!”, then slip the disc into the cd player and you crank up the Christmas tunes! As the kids are decorating the house with popcorn on a string and perfectly colored Santa’s and Christmas tree’s get tacked and taped up everywhere, I’m out on the front deck unraveling the strings of lights. It doesn’t matter how carefully you wind those lights up the year before they are always tangled and a bugger to untangle. After that’s done I plug them all in and make sure they work. They do! Yay! I peek in the big front windows at the kids dancing away to the music having a good ol’ time, and then I have to join them after seeing their cute little faces. I pick them up and twirl with them in the kitchen for a while then its back to work and onto the next step, putting the lights up outside.

             In my opinion, I find it way easier to put up the lights and things outside without snow everywhere and the kids little fingers don’t get so cold and it’s much more enjoyable. While the kids hold the lights up on the railings in place I come along and staple (by the way, staples are better than nails!). After we finish that I top the house off with icicles all along the roof and the garage. We throw some lights on two little fake trees that sit on each end of the deck. Then we head inside to do the tree. We dance around decorating the tree together but we do not put the tree topper on until daddy gets home so he can have a little involvement of the holiday spirit.

          Last, after all the decorating is done, we bake our traditional Santa and snowmen shaped sugar cookies and colorfully frost and sprinkle them. We patiently wait for the sun to go down and daddy to arrive from work. It’s just like the big blast of that first fire work you see when you turn on all the lights. It’s so exciting! It’s a rush, and so beautiful! Everybody should do it early like us, so we all can enjoy this warm cozy feeling inside even longer!

Essay #6

Essay #6

                There is only one creature on this earth that gives me the heebie geebies. Coincidently it’s the only creature that I happen to come in contact with on a daily basis. You would think that the mice family and I would have developed some sort relationship based on the fact that I can pretty much expect there will be one greeting me at some point in my day. It doesn’t matter how many I kill because it seems like if I kill one, five more are born and programed to make my life a living hell. These are the top 3 reasons as to why I hate them with a passion. They tortured me as a child in my sleep, they are the reason I cringe, close my eyes and slowly reach into tight dark spaces, and those beady eyed, scrap feasting mongrels have the power to make me jump out of my mini-van and scream like a little girl.

                There was this little tiny square door in the ceiling of my old childhood bedroom. The typical reason to be scared of the attic you would think for a kid would be ghosts or monsters, but no, mine was mice. Not only because of the fact that I had little tiny chewed holes in the ceiling and mouse poop in the deep crevices of the rooms corners but the main factor being the sounds. I could hear their little nails tapping across the wood floor above me while I lay in my pitch dark room at night. Their annoying little squeaking sounds they made, as if they were having a mandatory meeting on how they were going to raid the kitchen. It got to the point that when I didn’t hear any sounds it frightened me even more because I didn’t know where they were.

                Bringing up things from the basement is an absolute terror for me because I know that any item, whether a box or a boot could be a potential residence of the mouse family that coincides in my surroundings. Sometimes the kids are my Guiney pigs when opening things, if they find mice then momma doesn’t go anywhere near that box and it’s kicked outside until daddy gets home. We checked all of the boots and were extra sure nothing was living in them, but by the time I had my boots on I’m sure the neighbors down the street heard my horror scream after my toes sunk into one hiding in the toe of my boot. Oh good god that thing made me instantly sick to my stomach and cringe every year I put on my winter boots for the first time.

                Last winter I had problems with the heating system in my mini-van.  After finding out that my mice infected glove box was protecting them from freezing, my collection of napkins were their nesting materials and their source of food was McDonald’s French fries that usually were stuffed into the cracks of the seats. They probably thought they hit the Mack Daddy of all places to stay and had it made.  I was furious that I had to pay for a new heating coil that shit the bed after the mice chewed the wires off of it, but I was completely freaked out at the same time. The thought of one sneaking his way right up one of my pant legs makes me have severe panic attacks. Those darn things were going to be the death of me on I-95 one night on my way home from work I just knew it. But instead it happened at a red light in Orono around 11:30 p.m. on my way home from work. The creepy critter came out of hiding and scared the be-Jesus out of me. Without hesitating I jumped out of the van, screamed and brushed my clothes off frantically. In about 5 seconds I realized that I probably looked like a crazy person and was completely embarrassed.

                Mice gave me goosebumps from my younger years all the way up to this very moment. From haunting me with their scattering squeaking sounds in the attic, hiding in my winter boots, costing me money to making me act like total fool in public. I’m absolutely petrified of them, although they are such small creatures it is my biggest fear among all fears!

Essay #5---REWRITE!

              A few years ago, back when I was a single mom to my 16 month old baby boy and 3 year old daughter we lived in a 1 bedroom apartment on the back side of this wicked old building on the top floor. I worked a lot of hours at a local restaurant because at the time I wasn’t receiving ANY help what so ever for the kids. My cousin Amanda (and best friend) lived in the downstairs apartment with her boyfriend and she offered to help me out by watching the kids while I went to work. I worked so many hours that basically Amanda was raising my kids. Thank god she was loving to them and they really enjoyed being with her.  I told her that I would do my best to pay her. She really wasn’t bothered, she told me I was family and she didn’t work anyways so she needed something to do. So later on in the story I will give examples of just how much of a back stabbing, conniving, liar she is that lead me to deleting her out of mine and the kids life.

 Some nights when I finished work, I barely made enough tips to put gas in my car but I would do the best I could to pay her for watching the kids. I know that 15 bucks for 8 hours wasn’t very much but she always told me to just keep it and not give her any because she really didn’t mind watching the kids, and she loved having them there. On other nights when I made really good tips I would give her enough to make up for when I didn’t give her much. I would say that I was pretty fair most of the time. I even let them use my car when theirs broke down and bought them I don’t even know how many packs of cigarettes. When tax time finally came, I received a pretty hefty return and she knew exactly how much I got back. This is where everything just started to go downhill and suddenly she thought I was some rich person and became a totally different person that needed to disperse my hard earned cash in her direction! She started telling me about when she use to babysit for her friend she got 3 or 4 dollars an hour per kid and that I needed to start paying her even more because the amount I gave her was a slap in the face. She pretty much made me feel like a piece of crap. What the hell does she expect! Holy crap I was making just about minimum wage and she wanted 8 bucks an hour!

She finally convinced her mother to co-sign with her to buy a house that was down the street and they needed to fix up the house a little like painting and a few repairs here and there. She said she needed close to 300 dollars to do these things and of course being the nice person I am sat right down and wrote out a check for 300 bucks. Only because the fact she repeatedly assured me that they would be paying that back. Many months went by after asking I don’t know how many times for the money. They would always say the same thing; they will have it the next week. Well guess what, they never did and I never intended on paying it back. She didn’t even have the decency to call me and tell me that she did some “figuring” and said that I owed her that money and it wasn’t necessary for her to pay it back, instead she wrote it in a letter. What a conniving little coward she was.

After she moved into her house (before the bullshit letter) she told me that if I let her use my washer and dryer I had in storage that I could do my laundry there instead of the laundry mat. Sounded like a good idea at the time, so I agreed. I even borrowed my father’s pickup to deliver it. When I did find some time to do my laundry she was conveniently not there or she would tell me that I would need to give her some money if I was going to do my laundry there because it made the electric bill sky rocket. When I finally decided to take them back because she wasn’t keeping her end of the deal, she refused to give them back and said that I owed her money. Those became her famous words “I owed her money”. I often wondered how she did her tallying. I mean what the hell is she charging me for?! Parking in her driveway or using her toilet?!

                It all started coming together in my head and realizing that she wasn’t a very nice person at all. She came up with a conniving scheme in her head, which I knew she was capable of doing but never thinking that I was actually, in the end, the one she was targeting. I was her family and her best friend, how could she have done this without feeling badly about herself at all. I don’t know what else I could have possibly done to please her. In return she stabbed me in the back by spreading false rumors about me. This goes to show right here that you cannot trust anybody. In the end she lost the most important things, family, a friend and two kids that loved her all because of greed and money.

3 Annotated Bibliographies

Dyes, Hippies Tie. "How to Tie Dye Dot Net" Learn How To Tie Dye. Web. 30 Oct. 2011. http://www.howtotiedye.net/

This website is very descriptive and organized about the steps to take during the process of tie dying a shirt. It’s laid out step by step, and I like how they have pictures to back up what their saying. I also like the fact that all of the information is just on the main web page instead of having to click link after link to get to it.

"How to Tie-Dye." Free Crafts for Kids. Web. 30 Oct. 2011. http://familycrafts.about.com/cs/tiedye/a/041601a.htm

I was kind of frustrated with this website. It’s not the kind of place that you can just quick, bam, boom and have the info at the tip of your fingers. You have to click link after link to get to actually where you need to be.

"Tie-Dye Instructions." Dharma Trading Co. Homepage. Web. 30 Oct. 2011. http://www.dharmatrading.com/info/soda_soak.html

Personally I liked this site the best. It had a really nice flow to it and described everything I needed to know. The design and layout of the page is also attractive and a definite big plus with the “Helpful hints” at the bottom of the page.

Example essay intro

A few years ago, back when I was a single mom to my 16 month old baby boy and 3 year old daughter we lived in a 1 bedroom apartment on the back side of this wicked old building on the top floor. I worked a lot of hours at a local restaurant because at the time I wasn’t receiving ANY help what so ever for the kids. My cousin Amanda (and best friend) lived in the downstairs apartment with her boyfriend and she offered to help me out by watching the kids while I went to work. I told her that I would do my best to pay her. She really wasn’t bothered, she told me I was family and she didn’t work anyways so she needed something to do. So later on in the story I will give examples of just how much of a back stabbing, conniving, liar she is that lead me to deleting her out of mine and the kids life.

Essay #4, in class essay

Once upon a time there was this cute little family tucked into the woods away from the road where they loved their wonderful 3 bedroom modular and double sliding glass doors that opened their home up to the great outdoors. I said to my husband one day, “Hunny, now that we have our own house and land, the kids are getting older and don’t find that our once cute cuddly coon cat can any longer be dressed up like a baby anymore (because she’s a fat butter ball), I think it’s time that we invest in another friendly family pet” My husband says, sure why not! Then, continued to say that he himself had actually been thinking the same thing. I said “great! Then we can start looking around” I myself was looking for something small and not so intimidating to the kids, which my mother had a shiatsu and she loved her and was always saying what a good dog she was, so I was going more towards that route. I didn’t think my husband would really go that extra step in looking and thought that probably whatever I got he would just go along with it.

Then later on that night at the dinner table I told my husband that I had found the most perfect pet. A little cute, cuddly 8 week old adorable shiatsu, and it was a friend of mine who was actually selling them for $400 dollars but she would give her to us for free, and to consider it our wedding present! I was so excited; the kids were laughing and wiggling in their chairs. After getting so caught in the moment, and forgetting the fact that he had been looking as well and may have an idea, I looked up at him and he said, with one eye brow hunched up to the middle of his forehead and that stupid grin on his face, “Ha, if you think I would actually agree to getting one of those homely, messy disgusting things that pisses and shits all over the house you are wrong and it will never happen” Just like that, he just spit out those words like nothing, the kids and I were shocked as if he let one loose at the dinner table or something. I said, “Oh, o.k. Mr. High all mighty, what exactly did you have in mind for the family pet?”

Uh-oh, bad mistake. Women, you should never just let your husband wander around aimlessly with no instructions or lists, especially while choosing the so called family pet! You always give instructions as to exactly what you want first and then persuade him to thinking that your examples are what is best for the family, duh! Because if not, he begins to come up with his own ideas of what is best, and you all know that in the end its what’s best suited to their benefit!! His list consists of, for example, the kind of dog that is strong and masculine, or the kind of dog you can pull the tail gate of the pickup and say come on, let’s go fishing or hunting. Or, futuristically speaking, something that he can eventually breed and make money off of. Do you see what I mean? This kind of dog is yes of course, a figgin Pit-Bull, something that as a mother absolutely gasps at the idea of getting and finds it absolutely unthinkable and ridiculous to ever have that kind of animal prowling around my children! An animal that has the capability of ripping limbs off kids, the kind of dog that forced people to come up with the idea of making the signs that read “Beware of Dog” But, the funny part is, he says “they are good dogs though, if you train them right”. Absolutely not! No Way! It doesn’t matter, you can train a dog to the best of your ability, and yes, may be a good dog but, what if someday something pisses it off and goes loco on the kids! Hello!

So I left it be for a couple of days and reminded my husband that if he came home with a Pit-Bull I would make him sleep in the dog house with it and its permanent home would be in the garage because I absolutely refuse to take on the responsibilities of that dog while he was at work. I know it sounds a little inhumane but the fact of the matter is, it was in my persuasion to keep that animal out of my home! Plus I already had my mind set that I was getting that shiatsu puppy, and my friend had already made plans to bring her down. The kids were so excited when they finally met Lilly Mae McNally. She was the perfect size for them, just a little tiny thing. And actually she was already kind of part of the family because she was a sister to my mother’s dog Sophie. It was perfect though, and I was going to be doing all of the caring for her anyways. Like my husband was going to give her baths, remember to feed her or wake up in the morning to take her out to pee. That’s just how I see it, and I’m sure many people would agree.
Over all, my husband was not too impressed. He still looks at her with disgust and absolutely hates it when he finds her sleeping beside his side of the bed. He treats her like a wicked step child that always does wrong. I mean, yes she’s going to make mistakes, she’s a puppy for gosh sakes! He says that she pee’s on the floor every time I go to work. I said well that’s your own fault, if you take her outside then she wouldn’t do that, but now you’ve got her scared to death of you so whenever you go to grab her she pee’s! He’s learning though, do you know how I can tell? Every once and a while I’ll see Lilly snuggled up beside his feet when I come home from work and ill tease him about it the next day. Every time I catch him being nice to her he always says “I hate that dog with a passion, but I would feel awful if something bad every happened to her” So, in conclusion, even though your man comes up with these crazy idea’s and you have to snap them back to reality with a more logical plan, and even though they don’t like it they will eventually adjust to it and it will be old news and find that no matter what he will develop a soft spot for our little Lilly Mae.

Graph #19

                Holy crap! Are you serious?? To be honest with you, I don’t think I could ever write a “good” 5 paragraph essay in just 60 minutes. The other essays that I have wrote for this class literally took me at least 1 day. I would read it over and over, critiquing and changing it 10 thousand times until I was somewhat satisfied with it. I am not good with words; I sometimes put paragraphs out of order and add a lot of crap that probably shouldn’t even be in there. So writing a 5 paragraph essay to me sounds very intimidating, it makes my heart race and my mind fill with many busy thoughts! I wish I were more prepared because as of right now I’m thinking how is Mr. Goldfine ever going to like this essay compared to all of the other essays he probably never liked either! So what’s the deal doc’? You had better prescribe me some frickin’ good meds (or yourself, considering you’ll be the one reading it) because this one’s going to be a bad one! 

Essay #4

How can I put this? You know the expression “ya got shit in one hand and want in the other? See which one piles up faster!” Well in my case they seemed to both pile up pretty damn fast. Comparing the kid’s biological father to “shit”, my first love, and my first break up! The kids step father i would place with the “want”, which was the good guy who’d do anything for me and my kids, not money wise because he didn't have any but the love and care he offered was worth so much more. Don’t get me wrong they are the 2 most intelligent men I know, graduating at the top of their class, but there’s a fine line between intelligence and common sense! They both had one thing in common; they shared the role of being a father to my beautiful babies at some point or other and both were in a relationship with me. Matt may be a biological weekend warrior; per say “Father” a short buff tan man who perceives to be strong on the outside but in all actuality very weak on the inside. He does not know how to discipline or show any kind of human like feelings.  On the other hand, Jacob spends day in day out teaching them right from wrong, reading them stories, giving them baths, tucking them in, and spending quality loving time with them.  Jacob and Matt are two totally different people, where as it kills matt to outwardly express his feelings, instead runs and hides like a coward, and Jacob lets you know exactly how he feels, he genuinely cares about others feelings. Jacob has honestly earned that 5 letter word, even though not biologically their father, but he’s definitely there “Daddy”.  In summation, point being that anyone can be a father but it takes dedication, devotion and love to be a dad.

                Why? I may ask myself many times, did I have the capability of being with a man that constantly disappointed me time after time. I knew I loved matt, and had a strong forgivingness towards him, but why? Maybe I thought someday he would miraculously grow out of the lying and cheating, grow up and finally be the father he was supposed to be and hopefully someday be the perfect little family I had envisioned. Having known someone for many years, the first man I had ever loved and gave myself to and in the end not really deeply knowing the person at all. The man may be a veteran and all but he used the system for the wrong reasons. He was always the type of guy who never dealt with his issues and instead he thought by escaping them would make them disappear. Well he was wrong because by the time he came back he was still the father of them 2 children no matter what. In my head I wanted to desperately remind him that the years that have past had been a growing up point in my life where I chose to take responsibility and provide for my kids, meaning working my butt off to support them and actively be involved in giving them my unconditional love. I wanted him to realize that he just left me high and dry, but no matter how much I tried pounding it into his head he still refused to take responsibility and gave up most of his weekends with kids to go partying and pawned the kids off to his parents. What a man huh? You’d think coming back from war he’d have a better sense of family values but he didn’t and it absolutely infuriates me.

                Eventually, coming out of my indecisiveness of completely shutting this man out of my life I realized all along that all this time that I just wanted someone to see what love and joy my beautiful children can actually bring to a person and he was there all along. I made the mistake of treating him like I had been treated, but it wasn’t purposely to hurt him, but it did. I made him feel exactly how I felt and I’m ashamed of it. Jacob loved me and he adored the kids. Both of their first words were “dada” of course and who exactly do you think they were talking about! Yes, the one that was there day in and day out giving them love, playing with them and teaching them. He loved all of us unconditionally and would never do anything to hurt us. I have complete trust in him that he would never dream of lying or cheating on me. Down the road further he fought for them in court like a true man, he stepped up for them which in result was granted “Defacto-Parent” which pretty much means he’s earned the role and same exact rights and decision making just as if he was their biological father, considering the fact he had been with them since birth and provided for them just as much and more than their father had. We tried the adoption rout but god forbid their father be looked down upon by his peers, this tough soldier giving up the rights of his kids to another man, no way he’d rather still have the right of being their father and ignore the responsibilities he was supposed to have for them. His high class family, who played a big part in caring for the kids on his so called weekends, while in his mind, had better things to do. Even while he was overseas they took the part of taking them every other weekend just so that their grandchildren would still know who they were at least.

                We are the ones that teach the kids that it is important to learn in school, have routines, discipline and be able to make the right decision at difficult times. In our family it is very important to us that we all eat together at the supper table and it is that time that we talk about our day, discuss the things the kids have learned at school and congratulate them for their new knowledge. They look forward to us being proud of them for trying a new food, sleeping in their beds like big kids, drawing a pretty picture or even just out of the blue giving us a great big hug and saying how much they love us. We together as a team, taught them those things not anyone else.

                I look at how disconnected the kids father is and how much of their lives he is missing. But you know what, he made that choice himself and it would of been unhealthy for the kids to never know what the true love of a father meant. Someday, when he’s an old man sitting alone with nobody to talk to he will realize that the decision he made with his children was a huge mistake and that he is a complete and total loser, he made his bed and now he has to lay in it by himself. Karma comes back and bites hard, and I’m not so sure if I will feel one ounce of sadness for him because Jacob and I will be reaping in all the benefits of overwhelming love of our children and grandbabies. It goes to show, if you work hard at something all of your life by molding, nurturing and loving, in the end you are the richest person in the world. You did what you were set on this earth to do and succeeded. 

Intro #2 to contrast essay

       Here’s a man of the ARMY, one who fights for his country. He’s a warrior over sea’s at battle in life threatening encounters. He’s an engineer by day and a civilian sniper by night. What exactly is going on in his mind when he gets just a few hours of shut eye or a minute of peace? Is it his family back home? Is it his kids? OR is it his selfish thoughts of himself? After seeing so many men die and so many men absolutely cherish their wives and children, don’t you think that would trigger some sort of priority in his life! NOO it doesn’t, it never had any affect what so ever! He went into the Marines as a coward and came back out exactly the same. Mathew John Savage was still the same heartless, selfish, and arrogant bastard he always was. In the beginning he made me think he was such a wonderful person, spent tons of time with me and told me he loved me. All of the girls wanted him; he was the full package deal with a perfectly fit body, naturally tan, played all of the sports AND he was very intelligent. Me being a junior in high school and him a senior I was soon to find out that he had other plans then to be tied down to someone, especially after I nervously told him that I was pregnant and then the very next day, see that he had a new arm candy. I was devastated; he put me through hell and didn’t care to hide it anymore. I could tell he had hid her on the back burner for a while and that hurt even more because in reality I didn’t even know who that person was anymore. So I thought to myself, I’m going to get that jerk back. So I started dating Jacob. He was the total opposite of matt; it was like night and day. He had bright blue eyes, straight white teeth, and everyone called him baby face. He was very intelligent, number 1 of our class, very shy but also very sensitive to other people’s feelings. He on the other hand was very excited that I was going to be having a baby and loved her already. So not realizing that this relationship was first aiming at revenge and now finding that I was actually falling in love with Jacob. When I actually started developing these feelings for Jacob that’s when of course, Matt started calling me from Hawaii, mind you while he was home on break I become pregnant AGAIN!, I had decided that I wasn’t going to do it anymore. He didn’t care about me, he didn’t care about the kids, and it was just a big game to him. I was done hurting Jacob and thankfully he forgave me because he was the one that was there for the kids, not Matt. He cared for them, he was there “daddy” and they loved him and knew no difference. These two men may share the same children the same responsibilities as a father and may have loved me at the same time one point or another, but it’s how they each individually dealt with the kids or I and how their different personalities, values and morals lead me to choosing one over the other.

Outro to contrast essay

I look at how disconnected the kids father is and how much of their lives he is missing. But you know what, he made that choice himself and it would of been unhealthy for the kids to never know what the true love of a father meant. Someday, when he’s an old man sitting alone with nobody to talk to he will realize that the decision he made with his children was a huge mistake and that he is a complete and total loser, he made his bed and now he has to lay in it by himself. Karma comes back and bites hard, and I’m not so sure if I will feel one ounce of sadness for him because Jacob and I will be reaping in all the benefits of overwhelming love of our children and grandbabies. It goes to show, if you work hard at something all of your life by molding, nurturing and loving, in the end you are the richest person in the world. You did what you were set on this earth to do and succeeded. 

Intro #1 to contrast essay (edited)

   How can I put this? You know the expression “ya got shit in one hand and want in the other? See which one piles up faster!” Well in my case they seemed to both pile up pretty damn fast. Comparing the kids biological father to “shit”, my first love, and my first break up because the selfish bastard cheated and decides on a whim to vanishes into the ARMY to “escape”, not once, but twice after impregnating me! The kids step father i would place with the “want”, which was the good guy who’d do anything for me and my kids, not money wise because he didn't have any but the love and care he offered was worth so much more. Don’t get me wrong they are the 2 most intelligent men I know, graduating at the top of their class, but there’s a fine line between intelligence and common sense! They both had one thing in common; they shared the role of being a father to my beautiful babies and at some point or other both were in a relationship with me. Matt may be a biological weekend warrior; per say “Father” a short buff tan man who perceives to be strong on the outside but in all actuality very weak on the inside. He does not know how to discipline or show any kind of human like feelings.  On the other hand, Jacob spends day in day out teaching them right from wrong, reads them stories, gives them baths, tucks them in, spends quality loving time with them.  Jacob and Matt are two totally different people, where as it kills matt to outwardly express his feelings, instead runs and hides like a coward, and Jacob lets you know exactly how he feels, always says “I love you” at the end of every phone call and genuinely cares about others feelings. Jacob has honestly earned that 5 letter word, even though not biologically their father, but he’s there “Daddy”. In summation, point being that anyone can be a father but it takes dedication, devotion and love to be a dad.

1st Intro to contrast essay-deleted

Essay #2

                Behind the scenes, beyond those two swinging double doors is what really goes on in a waitress’s home away from home. Where I felt most comfortable in expressing my true feelings or venting out my frustrations, thoughts and errors. Passing through the doors with a big sigh of relief, finally, a break from my very unreal unwanted smile I portrayed to the people I absolutely despise, and being able to be myself for two seconds. Don’t get me wrong, I had my favorites and I loved most of my customers. In a small town like this you know exactly who is coming in before they even park their cars. You know who will be there in the morning to grab a quick bite before they head off to work, and the same ol’ folks that scarf their lunches while getting the new buzz that’s going around town or debating on some political dispute.

 My co-workers pretty much know my past, my present and my hopes for the future. In some cases I was forced to hear the same about them and some of their stories can be a little bit to revealing and awkward. Typically, as a waitress there’s usually at least one person you can call a “good friend”. Someone that I could trust with all of my secrets about who I thought was scum or the rich cutie that just left me a whopping 60 dollar tip with his number sketched on the back of the slip. We just clicked. If she scratched my back I would scratch hers, we appreciated it and made good money together.

On the down side, that good friend of mine didn’t work as much as I did. Which meant, when I picked up a shift that i normally wouldn’t, that’s when I got stuck with the “goofy girl”. She was always messing up orders and ticking off the kitchen crew. She was slow as a snail, I had no choice but to pick up the slack and clean up her messes. She wasn’t necessarily mean but not very nice either, and she sure thought she was a good waitress. Ha, little did she know. Usually before the night was over I had enough and exchanged a few words behind the scenes, involving a few swears. I still made some pretty good money because she would abandon her tables. I still don’t understand how she kept her position, when she did such a crappy job.

 Then no matter what, you always have that one certain guy that likes to think he’s the “cat’s meow”. He would always flirt with me, and somehow or other find a way to make my face beet red. Even if it meant raising his eye brows and smooching up his lips as the boss turns away for that split second.  I cannot find a reason in my head as to why I liked his compliments or what exactly attracted me to him. It could have easily became something more but I knew it would ruin the whole excitement of coming into work and desperately holding myself back from the fantasy of “mistakenly” locking ourselves in the stock room on that slow rainy day, and well, you can probably figure out what would happen next. But I couldn’t, I just couldn’t, and now I’ll never know.

Despite all of the crappy, ignorant and cheap customers, I still had the ones that I loved and they kept me going. But I wanted more, I hadn’t lived my life to the fullest and I couldn’t stop there! So I moved on and put in many hours of training to assist adults with developmental disabilities to become more independent by offering guidance and support for daily living activities, self-help, and social skills. I also took a C.R.M.A  (certified residential medication administrator) course and continued on in studying to be a Nursing Tech. I married a handsome man, had 3 kids and bought a house. It doesn’t stop there either, within the next few years I will become a Registered Nurse. Who knows if that’s where it will end but I do know that someday (I can see it now) I will be sitting in that little dinner waiting to see that old good friend of mine, knowing that all the ones that once thought they were better than me are sitting there with their ears tuned in, and the others that I loved anxiously waiting to hear the new buzz. Out of the corner of my eye that same ol’ flirty guy gives me a wink through the windows of the double doors and my good friend sits down beside me with two cups of coffee and asks “How the heck are you!?” and “Where the heck have you been!?”   

Classification Essay "Outro"

Despite all of the crappy, ignorant and cheap customers, I still had the ones that I loved and they kept me going. But I wanted more, I hadn’t lived my life to the fullest and I couldn’t stop there! So I moved on and put in many hours of training to assist adults with developmental disabilities to become more independent by offering guidance and support for daily living activities, self-help, and social skills. I also took a C.R.M.A  (certified residential medication administrator) course and continued on in studying to be a Nursing Tech. I married a handsome man, had 3 kids and bought a house. It doesn’t stop there either, within the next few years I will become a Registered Nurse. Who knows if that’s where it will end but I do know that someday (I can see it now) I will be sitting in that little dinner waiting to see that old good friend of mine, knowing that all the ones that once thought they were better than me are sitting there with their ears tuned in, and the others that I loved anxiously waiting to hear the new buzz. Out of the corner of my eye that same ol’ flirty guy gives me a wink through the windows of the double doors and my good friend sits down beside me with two cups of coffee and asks “How the heck are you!?” and “Where the heck have you been!?”   

Intro #2 to classification essay

Waiting Staff

                Behind the scenes, beyond those two swinging double doors is what really goes on in waitress’s home away from home. Where she feels most comfortable in expressing her true feelings, thoughts and errors. Her co-workers pretty much know her past, her present and her hopes for the future. In some cases she is forced to hear the same about them and some of their stories can be a little bit to revealing. Typically, as a waitress there’s usually at least one person you can call a “good friend”. When you call in sick and get stuck picking up a shift that you normal wouldn’t, that’s when you get stuck with the “goofy girl”. Then no matter what, you always have that one certain guy that likes to think he’s the “cat’s meow”. One of the rules of work that a lot of employers like to put in their speech of hiring a person is, leave your personal life at home. We all know that never happens! 

Intro #1 to Classification Essay

Tip Please

                When you make the decision of going out to eat at a restaurant with either, your husband, your children, friends or a family member, what are the deciding factors? Well when it all boils down to it in that time, you’re probably thinking about your growling stomach, how hungry you are and how good the food is going to be. While in the meantime, at that restaurant you have chosen, there is a waitress busting her butt cleaning off a table, and preparing it for you. The reason why she’s there, her motive behind her politeness and kindness, and her eager to please your every request is just one reason, a three letter word, yes that’s right, the tip. Even if it means she has to serve to the three most dreadful kinds of people that make her want to throw the towel in and quit her job. So while she’s cleaning off that table for you, in her mind she’s praying to god that you are not, one; a “Penny Pincher”, two; “Loud and Obnoxious”, and three; “Knit Picky”. 

Graph 16

Graph 16

                 I looked at the assignment finally at 9:30 p.m. after trying and trying to get my kids to bed but never worked, so I’m reading in between baby cries and peek a boo’s cheering him up temporarily to get through the next few sentences, and the other two arguing, tattling and needing just about anything and everything from me. Ok so as I was reading over the first model I thought about how much the writer’s thoughts are quite similar to mine and quite frankly, how much I really wanted a cigarette. She describes her three points very well, making the assignment seem clear, manageable and stress free. I guess you could say, suddenly I get kind of an anxious feeling, thinking about ideas to write my own classification essay, or maybe that feeling came from seeing the kids finally settle down, sinking slowly into the couch, with their little eyelids getting heavier and heavier.  I wanted to read more but I didn’t want to. After skimming the beginning of the second and third, instantly realizing that they didn’t interest me a bit. I don’t know why, but I didn’t want to waste my precious, quiet, peaceful time reading a nagging depressed wife’s story about how she hates her husband’s obsession of sports, blah! Clickity click to the next one. Skimmed the heading, blah, blah, blah, fishing isn’t going to give me any ideas!  The 4^th one caught my eye. I can relate and sympathize. Been there done that no fun bull crap. The bug lady made me laugh a little. I think it’s funny how she finds bugs fascinating, but yet lives to kill them. Nope nothing, bug lady didn’t wake up any stories in my head either. So, great, just great. Not even half way into the course and I’ve already written about everything in my whole LIFE, there's nothing left! You don't believe me do you? I know, I know, time to dig deaper.

Graph 14

Graph 14

                First things first. In order to even get started on my remodeling project, it is necessary for me to write out a budget. I know already that my grand total will be somewhere around $400 to $500 dollars. If I individualize each material being used for this project I could possibly find some money saving offers. I know that I will be needing to buy an array of paint brushes, rollers and a paint tray. Or I could just grab a package at Wal-Mart for $5. It comes with, 2 rollers, a couple paint brushes and the paint tray. By measuring the length of all the walls and height I came up with about 572 square feet that needs to be painted, so I figured that I am going to need about 2 gallons of paint, doing at least 3 coats.

The idea that I have for colors are, purple on two walls with pink polka dots and pink on the other two walls with purple polka dots. So I will need a gallon of each color. I’ve priced quite a few places such as home depot and Lowes. Wal-Mart seems to be the cheapest, as usual. About 20 bucks a gallon. They also have accent pieces (that are stick on) and letters which would be a great idea for the polka dots and my daughter’s name, and those are only $10 a package.

                The flooring I think will be the easiest part of the project. Marden’s has really cheap flooring for about $150 dollars, and even though they are cheap they feel quite sturdy and look very easy to clean or to replace if needed. Instead of doing a plain, wooden floor, I’m doing what they call fun floors. They are pink and purple with polka dots and it’s just squares that click together but eventually will have to be cut to fit. Before I put the flooring in I need to lay down some floor padding. It helps with insulating, reduces hardness of the floor, and also keeps your floor from cracking or sliding out of place. I originally was going to replace the entire ceiling fan. Instead ill just get some new colorful blades that match the room’s colors, and switch out the old light bulbs for new energy efficient ones.

                I have a couple of other idea’s that can maximize the amount of space in the room and create them myself by saving money. We all know that headboards are quite expensive, so I’ve come up with the idea of building one myself. By using spare wood from left over projects, a few yards of foam, colorful fabric and a staple gun,  I can easily have a nice looking headboard. The other idea I have is somehow creating a desk for my daughter to do her homework at, but yet still have enough space in her room without a whole desk taking it all up. Say I have a flat sanded board (of some sort), about 4 feet long and 3 feet wide, slab some chalkboard paint on one side and hang it up on the wall. But somehow being able to fold it down off the wall, kind of like one of those diaper changing stations you see in public restrooms (kind of a weird reference, but it’s all I got!) Then when you’re all done using it, fold it back up and use it as a chalkboard to draw on! Sounds good to me, but I won’t know if it really works until its finished and tested out.

                So that’s my plan, and I’m sticking to it, probably running into a couple of problems along the way but I won’t let it get my spirits down. My goal was to try and stay under $500 dollars, but with research, a little penny pinching, and a few “build it myself” projects, I might create this dream room a lot cheaper than I expected!

Graph #13

Reaction to sample cause Essay

                I’m actually quite annoyed right now, I have a pounding headache, and I’m sweating bullets. As I read the sample essay I think, ok, paragraph one will be easy, I’m good at hooking the reader (I think). Then I read on to the second paragraph, and it makes me have to think a little harder about where I’m going to take my essay and how. Then I read three and four, and that’s where I think I developed my headache. I’m not a very good sandwich maker; I could stuff a big piece of chicken between two slices of bread and be satisfied. But now you’re asking me to make a bigger one with condiments and vegetables! Jeez Louise!  This is making me want to have a smoke! This paper is going to take me days to write.

Essay #1

My passion began at the end of a long day of school, and constantly watching the clock. The chattering, superior, judgmental, annoying  air head school girls will at last be filtered out like shrimp on a lobster boat as a huge swarm of us girls rushed into the locker room.  Anxiously eager to take those uncomfortably tight jeans off and slip into a pair of silky gym shorts. Wrestling on that sports bra and tank top after tightly putting my hair back into a messy bun. Just barely getting on the last article, the whistle blows, and it’s time for business. This is the moment where all the "annoying, air heads" lose their spotlight. We quickly scurry out onto the freshly swept gym floor and plank our butts on the shiny, waxed wooded flooring.

After some of us get our ankles tightly wrapped and taped to spare them from getting twisted before the big game, we start our sets of sit-ups, push-ups, bicycles, then leg and arm stretches. Usually that got our blood pumping and competitive vibe going because we were always competing to see who could get just one more push-up in, or one more pedal of the abdominal wrenching bicycles.

Practicing one of my jump shots or perfecting my psych out, as i hear the constant dribbling in the background and that sound of 10-15 balls all hitting the rim at the same time. It didn’t matter, i was in the zone.  I was either, zipping past my imaginary defense after a psych out and landing a completely perfect lay-up. Or making them think i was going for the lay-up and sinking a 3 pointer in their face. I was good at my game; I knew it and so didn’t everyone else. I broke records on good and bad days; girls wanted me to help them improve their game. Sometimes, the boys coach would say he wished i was on his team.

 You could sign me up for any new challenge, a new play, one on one, and endlessly sinking them foul shots. You name it; I either conquered it or worked hard until i did. One of my specialties would be waiting for the point guard to dribble down the floor and just barely passing the half court line as I charge at her anticipating her very next move yelling "Ball, ball, ball!" swatting it just as soon as the ball left her fingertips as she’s still frantically trying to find an open team mate. I get a good four leaps away and everyone knew that once I had that ball, it was going all the way to the hoop. I hear the crowd screaming, hollering and whistling as I sink it and victory is ours!  Man o man didn't I love basketball. It was on my brain while i was eating, sleeping and breathing. It was my therapy, my escape from reality, a different dimension that became clear to me, always too late, that it would soon come to an end. 

Graph 12

Graph 12

                Im having a good time, beer in hand, good tunes blasting and a little bit of a buzz on. I’m a 18 year old tan blonde, trying to look good on my first date after a bad break up. I’m dancing with a guy I had met a few weeks prior through the local convenient store I worked in. He was the boss’s son, good looking, very out spoken and seemed very trust worthy. You see, he had this friend. He was at least 7 feet tall, football player build and his skin was mid night black. He was his best friend, and yet I couldn’t understand why he kept staring at me. I brushed it off a few times, hey I was drunk. I found the bathroom down the hall of this apartment to maybe get some of the alcohol out of my system, and to touch up my makeup a bit.

                I returned to the kitchen and there was no one. I went in the living room and still, no one. Probably everyone went outside and had a smoke or something. That thought quickly left my head when I see the huge man come towards me saying “We are finally alone”. I laughed and took it as a joke. I asked where everyone was, and he proceeded to tell me that he kicked them all out. I gulped, that made my buzz vanish and my heart began racing. I asked him why he would do that and he explained to me that I was going to be his for the night and that my so called boy owes him money and this is mainly what happens. He brings him women.

                Thoughts race through my head, oh my god he is going to rape me and then kill me. I thought about my kids and desperately wanted to cry. As I’m thinking all of this, I hear yelling on the street out front. My boss’s 3 daughters are taking a baseball bat to my car and a jack knife to my two front tires! Come to find out, the jerk that traded me in like i was a payment due, was also yelling at me. Calling out horrible names, and then taking a swing at my car. I was yelling back, I didn’t know what the heck was going on, I was so confused. I couldn’t go down there or I was sure to get pounded by the 3 infuriated drunk sisters. But as I weighed my options I was thinking, well I’d rather get my butt kicked by them then get raped by a huge black man. So I went for the door, unfortunately he was much quicker than I was. He grabbed me, pulled me back and pushed me onto the couch.

                The women in the downstairs apartment must have called the cops because suddenly I hear sirens, thank god, I’m saved. The big huge man couldn’t believe it, ran into his room, and none the less what do you think he came back out with. If you were thinking a gun then you’re absolutely right. He assured me that I was to shut up and lie down on the couch and not say a word or he was going to blow my brains out. He stripped down into his boxers and tucked the little black gun in the elastic of his boxers behind him. What do I do now? Nothing, I did nothing. That stupid cop didn’t even come in, said there was a complaint of loud noise, believed that jerk in a snap of a finger that it wasn’t his unit.  Then he left. He waited until he pulled away and shuffled through his jeans pockets, pulled out some pills and chased it down with hard liquor. Here I am, thinking of ways that I could escape and came up with the plan of just go with it. He came and sat down beside me and i pretended that everything was fine and that he was so brave for protecting me from those girls and so on. He fell for it. I poured him some drinks and pretended I was drinking along with him. Whatever he had taken for pills helped make the process of him passing out go a little faster, because his eyes were rolling into the back of his head. I assured him I would be right back and that I was just going to the bathroom real quick. I skipped past the bathroom and headed out to the balcony and climbed down that rickety latter as fast as I possibly could, ran through the bushes scrapping just about every part of my body but I didn’t feel it. I had my keys ready, jumped in and took off in that car faster than I had ever done before. I was breathing fast, my heart was racing, and my whole body was shaking. As soon as I knew I was far enough away, I started to hysterically scream and cry and thank god for my life. That was my hell, my life almost ended there, and I will never forget what happened in that place.

Graph 11

Graph 11

                I had just barely finished high school, taking extra classes to graduate a year early, and I find out I’m pregnant with my first baby girl. Her father decided to take off and join the military and I was left to fend my own. I stayed with my mother some and when I had enough of her nagging I dreadfully stayed with my father and his girlfriend that was just a tad older than i. When I had enough of her immaturity I hopped from grandparents, to aunts houses and even stayed with friends.

                My daughter was born and I finally said ok, that’s enough we need our own place. So we borrowed some money here and there and used all we had and found the first apartment that was available. We split the rent with a cousin, worked full time jobs and sent Natalie off to daycare. This place was nothing to brag about, you had to fight for a parking spot, and while carrying a carseat, a baby and a handful of groceries up the first set of stairs on the outside of the building in the middle of winter so the steps were always a little slick. Then you would reach the inside set of stairs that you had to pretty much climb like a latter and half your foot barely fit on them. It was always a pain in the butt getting into and out of that apartment. The kitchen was big enough for a small sink, a small stove and a refrigerator. All of the walls were slanted because it was pretty much the attic. If I lived there for much longer I’m sure I would have become hump backed and it sucked taking a shower because you had to stay hunched over in order to fit in the darn thing. Then on top of that there was never any heat or hot water. It was just awful!

                We finally moved, it didn’t get much better but at least I only had to walk 5 steps and I was into the trailer. We split the rent again with another couple we had gone to high school with. I had my second child, a boy, and became a stay at home mom because he was very ill. I was taken for granite most of the time and was probably thought of as the only house cleaner. Our friends that lived with us were pigs, I always cleaned up after everyone and I had enough of my living room being turned into an arcade. They played halo nonstop and he didn’t even work so he literally sat on the couch all day every day and stuffed his smelly socks in the couch cushions!! So that was the end of that one, I broke my lease and I was out of there.

                After living in three more crap holes we had enough. Especially the last one, living in a one bedroom apartment, that’s right, one bedroom, with two kids and a third on the way! We got good jobs after desperately searching for months and got as far away from that town as we could. We found a house, yes an actual house, with three bedrooms and really nice neighbors. I had my third baby and things started to get bad with the landlords. They wanted to jack up the price because I had another baby, then they wanted to kick us out because they wanted to move back in, ugh it was just an ongoing battle with them and they were very rude.

                We applied for first time home buyers loan and got approved!  It really isn’t that simple either we waited quite sometime after applying to at least 4 other company’s first. Our realtor showed quite a few places, but in our price range from $150,000-$170,000, what did we expect a mansion! Just when all hope was lost and thinking we were going to have to live in a hotel because the landlords were kicking us out we find the most perfect house on the market. The people who had owned it bought it through Repo and selling it for $180,000, and making some pretty good money on it. We have our own private drive and very far away from the road. I don’t ever worry about my kids being near the road when they play outside. We have no neighbors, 6 wooded acres, a brand spanking new 15,000 dollar 2 car garage with electric door openers and a wood stove! Following the brick pathway from the garage goes all the way up to our 28 by 60 square foot double wide with a nice front deck, a huge burgundy star above the front 3 windows, and a burgundy door that opens up into the most beautiful home. Hardwood floors everywhere, a stone fireplace, a huge office/toy room, 3 bedrooms, 2 baths a brand new deck on the back of the house that overlooks our wonderful back yard. My master bedroom has a master bathroom connected to it with a “his and hers” sink and a Jacuzzi tub with jets! My whole family loves it here. It’s absolutely everything we had ever wished for. The path was a struggle, but it just makes it even sweeter knowing where we had been and that we finally did it.

isearch worksheet

What do you want to write about? Re-decorating

What do you want to find out about your topic?

*The cheapest place to get supplies

*Look through different magazines for some ideas

What are your questions about the topic?

1. What color paint do i want?

2. How much paint do i need?

3. What type of flooring will i put in, what color and how much do i need

How does it connect to your life?

My daughter is going to be turning 7 years old and she shares a room with her 4 year old brother. I would really like to put her in my 1 year old sons room and put him in with his brother. Her birthday is soon and i want this to be her big surprise!

Give three reasons you like the topic

1. It’s fun, i love painting and decorating

2. It’s a surprise for my daughter, she’s going to be so excited to be able to have her friends over and hang out in her room so her brothers don’t interrupt their tea.

3. Plus it’s an improvement to the house, i like my new house to look good and show off the cool things i have done.

Give three ways your life might change if you answer your questions

1. Definitely, no more fighting with the kids about whose room is whose

2. I wouldn't have to worry about waking my son up every time i get her up for school and maybe i could get some extra shut eye after she gets on the bus.

3. The night time routine would be so much better because her brother is constantly crawling into bed with her and waking her, she doesn't get much sleep with that going on, so she will be well rested with her own room and not so cranky in the morning!

Graph 10

                Don’t you wish that just once somebody could do their job right? When you go into work and everything is in the right place, rooms are clean and hope to god that all of the residents have gotten the adequate care that they deserve? And that maybe just once the ones that suck at their job get reamed out by the supervisor!?

                Well I do! All of the above, every time I go into work. There’s this same person that I get report from every shift I work. The same lazy, overweight, smells like a big armpit, man that supposedly takes care of my sweet, sweet little old people who I dearly care about and he can’t even take a shower and put deodorant on himself for gosh sakes. Well I’d had enough when I found my little “grandmother” lying in bed with her pajamas still on (the ones I had put on her the night before) and soaking wet. I marched down there to where he was gabbing about himself to this person who probably for one doesn’t even understand what the heck he is talking about, but that’s just what he does best, talk, talk, talk. That explains why his work never gets done! I took him to the side and I said “Look, there is no gosh darn reason in this world as to why grammy is still in her pajama’s at 3 o’clock in the afternoon, and further more she’s soaking wet along with all of the other residents I just checked!” He explains “well she said she didn’t want to get up and she refused my care” (f.y.i. she doesn’t talk and doesn’t refuse anyone’s care) I said “You have two choices here, either you go down there and you get her cleaned up and dressed and also go and get all of the dishes, trash and linen out of the rooms, OR you don’t and I go get the supervisor and most indefinitely get your ass fired”.

                Let’s just say he went through his rooms again and he didn’t get fired, but now every time I go into work he knows I’m coming and everything is much better. Things are picked up and it looks like he actually has done something. The one thing that hasn’t changed is his B.O. is disgustingly worse, but the whole point was that the residents, that I am half the time responsible for get the proper care they deserve. Check and mate!   

Background

Background

                So this is where it all starts. Why I am fixed on re-decorating a bed room for my daughter. Why I want her to be able to have her own comfortable space to have as her own, to do her own thing. Well first of all, when I was a little girl I never really had my own room. My room consisted of a mattress thrown on the floor and grandma flower wall paper on the walls and a blanket tacked on the window for a curtain. My mom always wanted to redo my room for me but we just never had the money. Don’t get me wrong I still had friends over to stay the night, well, believe it or not my room was actually a lot nicer than my friend’s rooms and they actually liked my room.

                Throughout the years after me graduating, I bounced from apartment to apartment trying to find my place in the world and I’m telling you they weren’t great, they weren’t even good actually. Small, on the very top floor, slanted ceilings, crappy everything. Because they were never anything I could call mine, I was never allowed to paint or rip rugs up or tare walls down. But now that I own my home on my nice chunk of land, I can do whatever I want to. So there are a few different reasons as to why I so desperately want to do this room. I want my children to have more than what I had when I was little. Not necessarily materialistic things, but a home that they can feel comfortable in for the rest of time, no matter how old they are they can still come home, somewhere they can have their own space/quiet time away from siblings. Now that I have my own room that I have designed to satisfy my wants and needs of a room that I have always wanted, I love being in my room, it’s beautiful and I sleep very well at night, this is what I want my daughter to feel like when she walks into her room too.

A Place I Use To Call Home-Graph 9

                I don’t know why I do it every time I go to my hometown because it brings tears to my eyes. I say to myself before turning onto that road, why am I doing this I already know I’m going to be disgusted. But for some reason it brings back those good ol childhood memories of when my family was still together, and the 1^st time for my, well, everything.

                I drive slowly down the old road going by all of my old neighbors houses and 2 of my best friend’s house that I’m actually still friends with to this day. She’s so lucky, reliving all of her memories with her soon to be new baby in her own house she grew up in. As I drive by I remember, swinging on the tire swing in the front yard, shooting hoops in that same exact basketball net, and getting our butts kicked for stealing smokes and clam baking the teeny tiny ice shake out back that all four of us could barely fit in. Just thinking about it now makes me laugh. As their house goes out of site in the rear view, I start getting butterflies in my stomach. Then, I see Buds house. Everybody knows bud, he’s the nicest old man, give the shirt off his back, always chatting with everyone down to the post office. It was always an excuse to go over and see Bud because he always gave me and my sister candy. Then I would hear my mother yelling, “Girls, you get back over here right now!----sorry Bud!” and he’d always say “Oh their fine” and then chuckle.

                As that little memory fades out of my mind, I put my blinker on and pull over to the right resting my tire on part of Shirley’s drive way, hard to believe she’s gone. I close my eyes and see her round beautiful face with her curly white hair and thick glasses, we would go over there just to say hi most of the time and she would always come out and put her two hands on each side of our faces and give us a big kiss on the forehead leaving a bright red lipstick mark and then say your mother must be worried and always, always, always say make sure your look both ways and hold hands before crossing the road! As I see the two little girls holding hands, skipping, with their ringlet hair bobbing in the air, crossing the road into the yard, I blast back into the present, me sitting there parked across the road looking at it now. The, what use to be perfect little black mail box that my father made darn shore that there were no scuffs on and the numbers were perfect. It sits there cocked off sideways, the black paint all scuffed and you could barely read the white numbers and the red flag is no longer present. The big huge tree sat in our front yard by the mail box that shaded the entire street and half of house. It looked hunched, droopy and depressed. The yard, now let me tell you, this yard was always spotless, my sister and I knew that we were to pick our toys up before daddy got home or else. My father never let anybody else mow his lawn because he liked it perfect; the lines in the grass had to be just right. Now, there are no lines, the grass needs badly to be mowed, and it looks like somebody parked on the yard and got stuck and rutted it all up. There’s another spot where those disrespectful, lazy, dirty people put their pool, right in the front yard, no sand nothing, just plopped it right there, so now there’s a big rotted spot that’s made all the grass go brown.

I see the garage, just about ready to collapse because the people never kept up with it and just stacked garbage beyond garbage in it and actually left the door open to the public, with all of it torn up by animals. Its hard to visualize my dad laying on the floor changing the oil in his nice big red GMC pickup, tinkering around in his well-organized man cave, and he had it all rigged up so that when you walk in through his little homemade door with a bungee cord on it, you hit the lights that was connected to the power strip, and the radio would turn on. That’s just how he was, always worked in there with the radio blasting. Sometimes, well pretty much most of the time, he would be in there even with no vehicle to work on, my sister and I always wondered what that smoke and smell was, it wasn’t cigarette smoke, we knew that smell. But now it’s just the smell of nasty garbage and the roof caving in with rain pattering on it all.

From there was the barn with a big tree in front that always shaded it and the homemade swing that was on the branch. It’s where dad stored all of our bikes, sleds, toys, etc., etc. And above was a loft that you could only get into by the boards nailed to the outside of it, resembling a ladder my dad rigged. Up there was our “tree house”, we were too scared to ever sleep in there, we tried it once but my sister cried and that gave me and excuse to go back inside too. But we certainly did a lot of baby doll playing in there; it was where we played a lot of mommy and daddy with our best friends from down the street.

The Big white house with the black trim, the windows always so clear, the roof well maintained, and in the winter time there was always smoke rolling out of that red brick chimney. Inside the door, oh the smell, I’m home, the wood stove is piping. Our table, where we had all of our dinners as a family, every single night. My sister and I eating together, but nothing that my father wouldn’t eat. Pea’s, yuck! (Thanks dad). I remember laying on the floor in the living room with my feet up on the tall black Sony speakers, my head phones on, connected to the nice radio/5 disc cd changer/tape player, singing out loud to Whitney Huston, trying to memorize the words to Michael Jackson and admiring Mariah Cary’s beautiful voice wishing I could sing like that someday. The living room, with the fluffy brown rug, the huge spruce tree in the corner with all of our little projects that we had made at school for mom and dad. On your way upstairs, with a creek in every step, was the 3 bedrooms. Where my sister would always come into my room so quietly because she was always scared, and want to sleep with me, but do not let dad hear us whispering, we know what that stomping down the hall way always meant, uh-oh to loud, still awake, its slap on the butt time. We whispered and giggled even quieter after that.

                I flash back, into the spot on the side of the road, smiling at what use to be my home as it suddenly transforms back into the horrible creature it became. As the tears run down my face, I put my vehicle in reverse, turn around, take one more look, sigh a big sigh and drive away. If my parents would have just worked it out, it would still be that same wonderful memory I have of it. I can’t change the fact that it’s all just a memory, but I can give my children the chance to have some of those great moments forever. 

Reaction to isearch Graph #8

Reaction to isearch Graph 8

                I think that my isearch topic on re-decorating is great. It’s something I love doing, it’s about me doing it, and researching how to do it myself. It’s also a learning experience for me because I’ve never actually done a whole room by myself. Just by doing all new paint, the trim, ripping up the rug and putting hardwood flooring in and possibly a ceiling fan takes a lot of research and critical thinking. Plus keeping all of this a secret until it’s finished, working my late night job, three kids, kids school activities, and taking classes myself, ah yes, it’s going to be a big job. I would definitely say no I do not know all of the answers to my questions, nor do I have the supplies and I’m on a very tight budget for this project. I would like to try and do this under $500, it all depends on how much I make at my yard sale next weekend. I think it’s going to be a challenge, it will be fun to watch it all come together and the ending reward is really in everyone’s favor but mostly to see the look on my daughters face, priceless.

Graph 6

Unique

            Other than the facts that I look, walk, and have the same sense of humor as my father, I am still unique. I love my father, oh, do I ever so love that man. It’s more of a, I watch out for him kind of relationship. With all of the controlling girlfriends, calls at midnight because of that flat tire and a little too much to drink, and the recent diagnosis of lymph cancer that was discovered while he was in the hospital after his heart attack. He needs someone to watch over him and that is what I am here for, until the end.

My mother, on the other hand, has a chronic hypochondriac disorder. She cannot take care of herself let alone anybody else. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t love my sister and I or we don’t love her but she can be quite the handful sometimes. My sister is 22 years old and has three young children. I look out for her and her children when they decide to be boneheads and let stupid people watch their kids. Even when I’m tired, and taking care of my own three children I take hers because I don’t want them under the care of idiots and end up getting hurt.

When I am not taking care of children, I am at work taking care of elderly people. I guess I would consider myself a person that likes to take care of people! I like my life, house and mind being organized, maybe a little bit too much most of the time, but I like it and it keeps me sane. Because I am so busy taking care of everybody, the mountains of laundry, endless dishes and toys, toys everywhere, I tend to not get enough sleep, which results in way too many cups of coffee, multiple cans of mountain dew and a few 5 hour energy’s to top it off.

That’s what I am now, and I’m proud of it. I worked very hard to get where I am today and I have a very supportive husband who I couldn’t do with out and my three beautiful children that keep me going every day. I absolutely love my family and I would do ANYTHING for all of them, because that’s just who I am.

Graph 5 - Brain Storming

Graph 5 – Brainstorming isearch

-Cleaning

-Organizing

-Re-organizing/Decorating

-Fun activities with my kids

-Reading to my kids

-Fixing stuff

-Four-wheeling

-Plowing

-snow sledding

-Skiing

-Snow tubing

-Helping people

-Certified Nurses Assistant

-Administering Medication (CRMA)

-Registered Nurse

-Brainstorming ideas for a invention

-Need more money

-Being a house owner

-Painting

-Driving to my home town to visit my family

*TOPIC*

-Re-organizing/Decorating!

-closets/dressers, and finishing them with a coat of stain

-Kitchen (paper/paint)

-Floors (linoleum/hardwood)

-designated bins for toys to ensure easy/fast clean up

-Pictures on a wall (collages/paint one/take a new one)

-Furniture (more or less?, refabricate them?)

-Bedrooms (The whole darn thing!)

1) How am I going to do this room differently today?

2) Should I get different color paint for the walls?

3) Should I take the rug up and put hardwood flooring in?

4) How should I re-due the trim on that door and closets?

5) Do I need a different closet door?

6) Do I need one at all?

7) Should the window sills be a different color?

8) What kind of shading would do well with this room?

9) What color curtains should I get?

10) Should there be a different source of light?

11) Would a nice fluffy throw rug look good here?

12) Where will the bed go?

13) Should I corner the TV?

14) Definitely no doorknobs that lock

Description in the third person

Description in the third person

            By reading the first few things on the list, I can already tell that she has very good ideas, likes a good deal at a yard sale, and a do it yourself kind of gal. Her in-laws must like her if they bought her a new computer; it’s always a plus to be on their good side. Her desk sounds cluttered but slightly organized with some random items thrown on there, hence the socks and sippy cup- but, she must be on the go all the time with three children and a full calendar. If her desk is in the toy room then she has to be one heck of a multi-tasker and able to drown out sound like a glass door. She likes her space to smell good with candles, so even if it isn't clean at least it will smell good! The broken door knob tells me that she had to get someone out of a locked room in a hurry because all of the tools and butter knife is thrown on her desk. Plus who doesn't try the butter knife trick, but then fails and unscrews it all instead, and then busts it! Oh well as long as nobody was hurt. With it being so busy and hectic, and three kids running around she still manages to pay her bills on time (the somewhat organized mom’s slot for the “paid bills” section is empty). Huh, well, they must have a good budget. Scrap booking must be one of her hobbies, with all of her kids pictures scattered everywhere. You can tell she is a very proud mother and wife, her kids and her husband sound like award winning trophy’s,  to remind her of all of their life achievements and special moments captured in a picture.