My Life After The Big Apple Essay

Fast forward two and a half years to the third and most recent visit of mine to New York City. On this February visit the city was experiencing one of the many snowstorms that occur on the East coast. When arriving at the memorial for the

The stock market crash of 1929 sent the nation spiraling into a state of economic paralysis that became known as the Great Depression. As industries shrank and businesses collapsed or cut back, up to 25% of Americans were left unemployed. At the same time, the financial crisis destroyed the life savings of countless Americans (Modern American Poetry). Food, housing and other consumable goods were in short supply for most people (Zinn 282). This widespread state of poverty had serious social repercussions for the country.

The Great Depression was a time of profound social, political, and economic change in America. “It was the deepest and longest- lasting economic downturn in the history of the Western industrialized world” (The Great Depression). It started in 1929 and lasted until the early 1940s. It affected each nation differently, but was severe in most places.

Abreast my share of family drama, and adolescent hardships, I found a place that I thrive. I have realized over the years that I was

So where do you see yourself in 20 years? Do you think you will be as far as you are? What you do now and act will determine how far in life you will go and the things you will accomplish. I am a loving, determined, and intelligent person. You can accomplish anything you put your mind to even if people tell you that you can’t achieve it just know you can and never give up on your

I glanced down at my watch with anticipation that I was about to be late, but the sun was barely visible beyond the trees of the park I was passing. "Four-thirty." I muttered sadly. I knew that this was going to be a day to remember, and yet had no idea why I felt that way. The cobblestones beneath my feet clacked in time with my breathing as the unconscious part of myself felt the urge to run. I sprinted the rest of the way to Main Street.

He stomped his way out of the slushy snow as he headed home for the widow’s house. The temperature had dropped throughout the day, it was reported on the daily newspaper that the bad weather was only just the beginning of the winter yet-to-come. He had just came from school and was drained. He didn’t like being sivilized but, school had grown on him. He rubbed his hands together in an effort to keep warm as he walked the familiar street. When he spotted his gang leader, Tom with the others.

I rolled over and looked at my clock and saw that it was 7:20 I better hurry up and get

It was an icy winter this year in the Bronx, and we all knew the weather wouldn’t let up for at least another few months. My hands and nose were already red, bitter from the cold as I wandered through the frosty morning air. White snow had fallen that previous night and was now turning to thick ice making it quite a struggle for me to maneuver my way through the loopy unheated streets and sidewalk of the dirty town without falling. My copper face was freezing but I barely noticed, my mind was busy bustling about. It bounced thoughts around each revolving around the same thing, Saki. A young eccentric girl, who I had encountered at a fest, held on Governors Island. As I trampled in the snow, through quiet icy towns, I couldn’t help myself from

I just got off my shift. Working in a bar means staying out late and being exhausted by the end. I stepped out the front door and into the night. The air was bitterly cold, I huddled myself within my coat as I walked down the street to my car. It was close to December, it would be getting much colder. Up in New Hampshire, winter starts in late early November and just keeps getting colder. I opened the frozen door of my little car and climbed in. The engine sputtered when I turned the key.

Composers,authors and playwrights have all extolled the virtues and vices of the incomparable city of New York. Unique in stature, the city has as many monikers as it has boroughs: The City that Never Sleeps, Gotham, The Centre of the Universe, The Melting Pot, and The Big Apple. As it happens, New York State is the country's second largest apple producer; however, the renowned nickname, The Big Apple, boasts its origins from the race track - not the apple orchard.

This story starts out on a Saturday in December at around 4:30 A.M. The temperature is about 28 degrees. When I walk outside I notice the frosty white snow has covered everything like a blanket. It is so cold outside that my breath is reflecting in front of me like the smoke from a cigarette. The weather could not get

It was a cold day, so cold that your arms start to sting as if a needle is impaling the surface of your skin. The wind applies a force which feels as if your face is oozing with thick crimson red blood. The gray puffy clouds covered the sky and dropped small snowflakes onto the road’s surface. A man stood there, freezing, clearing the coat of thick white snow from the concrete road. His nose runs with a river of snot that floods out when the cold wind strikes. His sense of smell is heavily clogged by the slimy snot, but he can still smell the scent of the steamy hot chocolate which sits on the top of his snow covered car. His feet start to numb because of the cold flood which soaks through his boots to his white, silky socks. His feet feel as if he stepped into the freezing cold ocean. As if he fell through ice and he was stuck standing there. The vast pile of the ice white snow feels almost like a quicksand around his black rubber boot. Foggy figures of people shovel the big piles of snow off the sidewalks. They scrape and pick at the glossy white ice which sticks to the sidewalk like a little boy clinging to his mother's side. His feet still sting as if he was stepping on pins and needles. His hands are damp with sweat from grasping the curved metal shaft attached to a socket which holds the blade. The blade cuts holes into the thick powdered snow which is removed from the endless pile. The jet black shovel is filled with slushy snow and crystal shards of ice. The end of

It was a frigid day in December. I wore so many clothes that I looked like a penguin. Every breath I took makes a small cloud and scattered. The gloves I worn seemed to be mildness like paws. The buildings behind me were covered by the thick snow. The wall became more brick-red because of the spotless white snow. Some snowflakes drift down on my hair gently. The snow was heavy, but not much wind. My friends bounced from worm house and laughed to me. “We should build a snowman. The snow is heavy enough.” One of my friends advised. We all cheered and started to pile the snow together.

On a snowy and windy night, I was at Barnes & Noble in Green Bay with my friends, Alan and Karina. Christmas music played overhead, the smell of hot chocolate and freshly brewed coffee wafted over, the customers were kind and cheerful, and snow was beginning to blanket the parking lot outside. We were sitting near the cafe wrapping books to support their mom’s school fundraiser. I stared outside and remembered my mom’s warning of the large snowfall that was almost upon us. Around 7:15, the snowflakes were becoming larger and we could barely see outside the window.