my day

i was on my way to class when my dad turned into the parking lot of msc. a guy started to back out and hit us. i had to wait on the cops to come so i could go to class. i wonder how that is going to affect the quiz grade. is that a clue that it will be bad? i doubt it. i have read to chapter 7 of 25. so far it is easy reading and enjoyable. i probably wouldn't have picked out myself, but i'm glad i have to read it because that is what school is for. to break you from the your comfort zones. i'm glad it is easy to read, because i just finished one for my history class that wasn't.

research paper topics

i think i have finally decided on a topic for the research paper. i think i am going to do it on diabetes. i did a paper on that in the 11th grade, but they have so much more information now. plus i definitely have a good source of inspiration. my mom had what you call a silent heart attack this summer. the heart attack was brought on by complications of diabetes. she really scared us and herself. it really was a wake up call. i thought i was going to lose my mom at the age of 19. she now is taking care of herself. she goes to the medical center for a cardiac exercise class three times a week. diabetes is a serious disease. it effects the entire body. i would love to learn more.

last night

last night i went to an event at a member of my church's house. i was amazed at how fancy it was. along with fancy crystal-like glasses, the silver ice bucket had a pair of tongs to grab the ice with. the furniture was Victorian in style. with the curved edges and claw feet. at diner we were served on what i suppose was china. i had to wait for someone else at my table to eat first to see what fork to use. there were three, one for salad, one for diner, and one for dessert. at my house when we have people over we serve soda in plastic glasses. then we put out a bag of pretzels. at diner we only have 1 fork, less dishes. the guests use the same fork for their salad, diner and dessert. our silverware is stainless steel and theirs were probably silver.

yesterday

yesterday was a long day, very long. it started about 5:30 am, when my sister and i got up so we could get her back to Atlanta by 8:30 am. my sister fell asleep on the way up. i stayed awake, listening to music and talking to my dad, who was driving. we got to Atlanta without much trouble, until we got off the interstate that is. my dad turned the wrong way onto peachtree rd from lenox. as we were driving the wrong way, i realized that every other street in Atlanta has the word peachtree in the name. anyway once we droped janet and her stuff at olgethorpe, we headed back for macon. we got on i-75 south at just after 9 am. we drove non-stop to macon, well exept to get a drink in macdonnah. we drove non-stop because i had to be at macon state for my 11 am class. well i walked in the door of my 11 am math class at 10:57. as my dad told me, "i'll get you their before 11, i just can't promise you how much before." so i am living proof that you get on i-75 north just after 6 at get to macon state in time for your 11 am class.

example essay new and improved

my family

I have often said that my family is crazy. When I say they are crazy, I don’t mean that as an insult. I mean that as the best complement I possibly give. My definition of crazy is not the scary “I’m going to skin you alive, cause you beat me to the bathroom” crazy. My definition of crazy is the fun loving crazy. The kind of crazy that has you doubled over laughing, not always because it is so funny, but because it is so stupid. For instance, when I was a senior in high school, which was two years ago, I had to take a credit make up psychology class, because I didn’t do so well in some other classes and need the extra credit to graduate. Well I had to stay out of school for two days so I could finish the tests to send off to American School, they are who graded them. Well my dad was trying to think of an excuse to put on the note I was to give to my teacher, and said he could put that my grandfather died. This may not seem funny at first, but it may help to know that he was talking about his dad who had died two years before I was born. I thought I would never stop laughing. Oh by the way, I think he ended up saying that I had a 48 hour stomach bug or something like that. The thing is my dad isn’t the only crazy one; we’re all crazy, including me. Well maybe not all of us, I don’t think my one year old cousin is crazy, yet. I say yet because if he stays around our family for much longer he will be.

My mom doesn’t have a lick bit of sense in her head. She one of the funniest people I know. When asked if she has lost her mind, she simply replies, “I’m like the scarecrow; I was never given one in the first place”. For another more specific example, how about the time my mother dressed up as rapper. It was for our church Halloween festival. She even made up a rapper name for her character, Big Mama Woo. Now my mom isn’t what you call the rapper type, she is your average southern American mom. The only similarity I can think of is that they both where jeans and t-shirts. The thing that surprised me is that she really had fun getting into character. She wore some ripped jeans, an oversize t-shirt; I think she had a big red “hoodie” to go over it if she got cold. Then she had some gold necklace that had some sort of large pedant on the end or a thick chain. She also borrowed one of my cousin’s old baseball hats and wore to the side. My mom has used that costume idea several times since. I remember the one year she went to the Halloween party and was a witch, because that year she was working the kitchen and a kitchen witch whose pot was their cauldron. That year several of my friends were disappointed that Big Mama Woo didn’t return. So what did my mom do the next year when she needed a costume for Halloween? Yes, she resurrected Big Mama Woo. I guess once the fan club of Big Mama Woo was born there was nothing anyone could do to kill it.

My grandmother, Mamaw, is the type person who doesn’t think she is funny. Let me tell you, she wrong. If Mamaw puts something up so that she doesn’t lose it, try and ask in about 6 weeks and she won’t have any idea where may be. Then again don’t we all do things like that from time to time? One example I remember that was about a week ago was when Mamaw, who is 94 and has bad eyes, keep in mind, was looking at an old wind up alarm clock and asked my dad if that was the one her cousin had given to him many years ago. He said “No mother that isn’t the one Louise and Frankie gave me; that is one I bought from Fred’s that broke.” Fred’s is a drug store near our house. Then she asked him if she could throw it away. He of course said yes. Then she asked again because her ears, like her eyes, are 94 years old and failing. He gave her the same answer again, only this time he said it a little louder. Then after a couple more times of the same routine, when she asked again, he is slightly frustrated by this time, he replied “YES, you can throw it away; it is a piece of crap.” Then she looked at it to see where it was from and to see where it was made. Then she said “Oh it must have been made in…” then she paused to think a second and asked my dad “Oh David, what’s the name of that Chinese country?” Then he simply laughed and said “China, mother, the name of the Chinese country is China.”

When I asked my sister for something crazy she had done, and she answered “You could just tell them I am the only sane one in the family.” Well, let me say that isn’t true. Yes, my sister is just as crazy as the rest of us. From trying to count one of our friends freckles to dressing up as thing 2 for Halloween, my sister as done some things that might qualify her a spot in the closest insane asylum, as have the rest of us. My sister has been crazy her entire life, why else would she have decided to swallow a rock when she was 4 years old, it was a pebble and she wasn’t hurt at all. My baby sister has always had her own personality, that’s for sure. One Christmas, my dad got a camcorder as a gift. So he went around taping the festivities to see if this new piece of technology actually worked. Well, my sister and I had the idea for him to tape an episode of the “Fluffy and Sally Show”, which we often acted out. Fluffy and Sally were two of our many teddy bears, who were the main characters in the show. The main plot of the show was that Sally and I came from people town, original I know… remember we were only 5 or 6 at the time, to see Fluffy and Janet, my sister, in bear town, yet another original name, to visit. On this particular episode, we decided to have a tea party. Well, my little sis could be a little bossy from time to time, and so when my dad was filming the show, which was only the second time he had used the thing, my sister would yell “CUT!!!!” at the top of her lungs. Then my dad would say “I can’t cut, I don’t know how to stop this dang thing.” My sister continued this demeanor when my dad taped the living room instead of following us into the kitchen. Then once the correct location was figured out, we began the rest of the show. There was a part where she wanted him to film her teddy bear and she screamed, “Do Fluffy, Do Fluffy”. His response was, “which one is Fluffy?” She then said the grey one. Well, this was not help because Fluffy was dark grey, but Sally was light grey.

My family probably belongs in the Milledgeville mental hospital, instead of a three bedroom, two bath house, with a huge magnolia tree in the front yard. Many people ask what it takes to hold a family together. I have an answer to that, laughter. There definitely is a lot of that in my family, and my parents have been together for twenty years. My entire family is crazy from my little sister to my 94 year old grandmother. What about my own personal sanity, you may ask? Well, that is another essay entirely.

my weekend

this weekend i went up to atlanta to visit my sister, who is doing well and loves olgethorpe, with my church. we had a lock-in at Emmaus House in atlanta. Emmaus House is a charity organization that is funded by the diocese of atlanta. they focus on helping the neighbor hood children and senior citizens. they have a food bank pantry where needy families can pick up food to take home. that is only one of their ministries, including a senior's program, art program for children, and a after school program for kids.

Deadlines

I have a question to ask the college teacher out there. do y'all ( yes i'm from the south) colaborate together and try to have as many due dates in the same week as possible? tuesday i had a paper due in english, today i have a history test, that i'm probably going to fail by the way, and monday i have a math test, and a psychology test. i would be studying history right now, but i don't want to get behind in english. like i said in my previous blog, i suck at the balencing act thing.

balence

when i was 3 or4 i took gymnastics for a year or so. not that i was any good, because i wasn't. so don't worry you won't be seeing me in the next summer olympics. one thing i remember is the balence beam. i was never any good at that. life is like that. you need to balence several things at once. as a student i have to balence 4 classes work at once, and i am not any more talented at that then i was at the balence beam. i just do the work of the class whose deadline is the soonest.

my sister

my sister is the friend i have known the longest. 18 years this past may. even though she is my younger sister, i have always looked up to her, and not just because she is taller than me. my sister is one of those people who almost have too many talents. seriously she is good at everything, not that i suck at everything because i don't. geeze i say because a lot... anyway back on topic, my sister is good at a lot, i mean a lot of things. she is an artist, in fact she is a freshman at olgethorpe university right now who is majoring in art. she doesn't just paint, she can draw too. it doesn't matter what her medium is, she is good at it. whether it is oil pastels or color pencils, water colors or acrilic. Art isn't all she is good at. she also is really smart. when she was in high school she was in the ib program (for really smart people). she also can sing. like i said she has a lot of talents. not that i'm jealous because (sorry) i'm not. i am very proud of her. i know she has her talents and i have mine.

descriptive essay

Please Read

Amanda Wood September 2, 2009 Ms. Aiken English 1101 Descriptive essay My first day a college

My College Experience

My College Experience
My sister and I always used to imagine going to college. We imagined leaving to our new adventure in a minivan stuffed to the brink with anything from a mini-fridge to bath towels. When my sister, Janet, went off to Oglethorpe University this fall, that’s exactly what she did. My parents drove her to Atlanta in our seven passenger green dodge caravan. My whole family was up all night packing the van. We shoved things into as many spaces as humanly possible. We wouldn’t have been able to fit it all if my sister and I hadn’t taken the back seat out. My sister told me about her weekend filled with meeting new friends at activities the college planned for them. I did not get to go with them to Oglethorpe because I had already started class here at home. When the time came for me to choose a college I decided on Macon State College.

My college experience has been much different from my sister’s. For starters I didn’t move away in a minivan filled with shampoo and tears. That’s because I still live at home with my parents. It is rarely quiet, and it is rarely lonely, especially with three dogs, a cat and two kittens running around. I sleep in the same messy room I always have. When I say messy I mean it. The dirty clothes are speckled with bits of hard wood floors. The bed is never made and the floor is rarely swept. I have slept in that room since my parents moved in, when my mother was pregnant with my sister, Janet. My parents decided to paint the room blue then and it has been blue ever since. Of course the furniture has change over the years. Now instead of a crib and changing table, I have two twin size beds, one is my sister’s, and a white vanity set. Of course, I have two dressers in my room, the little honey colored one is mine and the big dark wood one with the mirror over it is Janet’s. Across the room is our tall pine bookcase with colorful peace signs my sister drew on the side filled with books, fifty percent of which I haven’t even opened, let alone read.

I remember my first day at Macon State like it was yesterday, or this past January. I had a night biology class that Wednesday night at 5:30. I had my dad take me early so I could buy my books and find the class room. I sat outside the room for like fifteen minutes because I thought there was another class in the room, it was just the other students waiting for the teacher. I finally gathered enough courage to go in a take a seat. I was terrified. I had no earthly idea what to except. The room had individual desks and I took one in the center of the second row. It was good, I could see, but I wasn’t front and center. The room basically looked like a run of the mill class room with the white board in front. I imagined the room to look one like the ones in the movies, one of those huge lecture halls with the desks set on stairs. Then the teacher came in and handed out the syllabus, ok I thought, I know what those are; we had them in high school. The teacher then explained the syllabus and told us what the class and then she told us about 6:30 she’d see us Monday and realized she was letting us out fifteen minutes early and told us not to get used to it.

Sooner than later, I settled into my new routine. I got used to staying from 8:00 a.m. to almost 7:00 p.m. Much sooner than I expected, I was used to the stress of deadlines. I was studying for tests, writing the final draft of an English paper, starting the first draft of the next one, and making power points, which may have been due all in the same week, if not on the same day. During my Math 97 class, the Macon State free tutoring became my best friend. I was also learned that I really needed to be nice to Google because it will help me a lot, and when I say a lot I mean a lot. I remember when I got the first draft of my first paper back in my English 99 class. I had never seen so much red pen. The teacher had circled every single time I used the word “you” in the paper, which probably would have filled half a double spaced page if I took out all the other words. Ok maybe that may be a slight over exaggeration. It probably would have only taken up like a small paragraph. The word “you” wasn’t my only red mark either. There must have been a hundred places where he had corrected commas, either adding one or removing one. He might as well have taken one of those big red sharpies, like the ones that the smell practically knocks you out after you open them, and started painting the page red. Needless to say, as the semester went on, the red pen started to disappear. By the last paper I wrote for him, I don’t think I had a single solitary “you” in the entire paper.

This is my second semester at Macon State, not counting summer, and it is not as nerve racking anymore. I have gotten used to working math problems and reading history chapters. Who would’ve guessed that in one semester I would be normal experienced college student? I know that I sure wouldn’t have.

descriptive paragraph

Amanda Wood
Ms. S. Aiken
English 1101 – descriptive paragraph
August 25, 2009
Mamaw
Mamaw is my 94 year old grandmother. She is a sweet little lady, not over 5 ft tall and she doesn’t weigh over 150 pounds. She has snow white curly hair that is little shorter than shoulder length. Her hazel eyes are deep set and framed by big pinkish colored glasses. You always know she is on her way when you hear the sound the sound of her cane tapping against the floor from a mile away.
Since she is 94, she has some very interesting stories to tell… like the one where her cousins and she made and played with an electric chair down in her aunt’s basement. Needless to say, when her mom and aunt discovered their little secret, their fun was over.

my expectations for this class

i have always liked english classes. i enjoyed taking lit/comp in high school, well i liked the lit. part. I have never been a fabulous writer, in my opinion. My main expectation is to learn to write. and to develop confidence in my writing. i'm sure you wil think i am a better writter than i do. i have always done that. i always underestimate my abilities. i never think i am as good at something as others do. but then again isn't everyone like that? if i was the only one like that then i don't think the saying "you are your own worst credic" would exist.