Personal Narrative Essay: Don T Write-Up

Sitting on the stoop of her apartment Remi watched as cars drove past her with their windows rolled up as she sucked on her fifth pop cycle of the day. Her milk chocolate skin was hidden underneath an all white Nike viser with he box braids sitting in a high pony tail. The pink tank top she wore was slightly wet from all the sweating she was doing while her blue denim shorts stuck to her body like glue.

As Sara is getting ready, she keeps making mistakes. Sara keeps on tripping everywhere, and is worried she won’t look good for picture day. Starting off with brushing her teeth. She was in such a rush that she didn’t realize it was lotion instead of toothpaste and that she put it on her teeth. She spits out the lotion and washes out her mouth. Making sure to use toothpaste this

She dried herself off, toweling off her hair before wrapping the towel around herself. Grabbing her brush off of her counter, she went to her bedroom to search her closet. It wouldn’t take her long to get dressed; she already knew what she wanted to wear. She had an emerald green dress that cut off at her knees and showed off her figure without giving too much away. She brushed her hair as she pushed back all of her work clothes to reach the small collection of dresses she owned.

Zurbaran eagerly produced studies of nature and soon developed his own naturalistic style which was based on chiaroscuro effects. His career began to pick up he accepted a commission to produce a few large paintings for the Retablo of San Pedro in the Seville cathedral and for the Carthusians of Santa Maria de las Cuevas. On the 17th of January Francisco signed a contract stating he was to produce 21 paintings within 8 months. This established Zurbaran as a painter, he had become a recognized artist. In June 1629 Zurbaran was invited by the Elders of Seville to move back to the city, as his works were beginning to gain recognition and he was forming a pretty popular reputation. He agreed and packed up the family and servants and moved back

Today I was late for class. It was my own fault because I stayed up late the night before. I slept in and I had to catch my bus at a later time than usual. I felt disappointed in myself because I generally pride myself on having a good attendance. We learned the final part of the Alexander Technique. It is called “Non-Doing”. Basically it's all about how less is more, even with stage acting. Then we learned about the Rudolph Leban technique. Christopher gave us some pretty good quotes today. “You have the power to shift” and “Give yourself permission not to know”. The word of the day/week was consistency. That basically means be your own personal best and don't compare yourself to other people. I feel like I’ve spent a lot of time comparing

I can still remember my heart pounding out of my chest. It was my first time in Writing 1, and my nerves were mostly the result of a friend’s advice. Winter quarter, my friend told me about her struggles in her writing class and she advised me not to take Professor Bernstein for Writing because as she said “he is really tough and a very hard grader.” However, I had no other option but to take writing with Professor Bernstein because all the other writing 1 classes conflicted with my schedule. Nevertheless, nine weeks have past since I first stepped foot in Writing 1, and I can certainly say that I have learned more than I ever expected. Yes, it is true, this class has been a challenge like no other, especially for me, being that English is

Children running around, screaming, smiling. Just a normal day as a water park lifeguard. I take a friends spot for their break, as i often did. He was the reason I got hired in the first place. $10 an hour to pace back and forth he told me. My 16 year old self couldn’t ask for more. That was 3 months ago and I had no excitement over the job left. I find myself daydreaming staring at the bottom of the pool as I pace back and forth. I hear a splash from the area to the left of me and see a young girl struggling to keep herself up. I kick my shoes off the second I see her and dive to assist her. I get to her while she’s still struggling, I pull her onto my tube and begin my spiel. You are required to see the person and react in 10 seconds, I took 6. I smile happy to do well and keep the young girl safe. As I’m filling out the paperwork, as we did with all rescues, my managers call me over. They say I did well on the time requirement side, but I was written up. Kicking my shoes off was wasting time in a situation where every second counts. I started of thinking I didn't deserve the write up, since I had saved the young girl as

Ever since I can remember I have always struggled with writing. I believe that Spanish

Have you ever tried something hard and failed but still trying continuously until you accomplish your goal? That’s me trying to improve my writing skill. My goal right now is very simple: to pass English 49, and then finish both English 101, 205. However, I’m still struggle with the writing process

I have never taken an online class so I am actually very nervous on how it will go. Also, being an honors course, which I’ve never taken doesn’t make things a little better. I really enjoy writing about specific topics or ideas. Writing creatively isn’t me, but anything to help improve my writing skills. Hopefully all goes well and I pass the course to continue to move on in my degree plan.

In recent light of writing my narrative essay; I discovered how much I like to write from my head. Instead of Having to constantly refer back and forth from resource material, statistics, graphs, and just plain data. I feel exuberant in being allowed to just freely write what I feel, or what has happened in my life, mostly my story. Writing essay after essay in Highschool felt tedious and dreadful; mostly since we were always writing about a book or some sort of report.

I groaned and pulled the blankets over my head. “Shit,” I grumbled and closed my eyes. “Shit!” I yelled again after I realized I was supposed to meet Amile Abelle in half an hour. I ripped the sheets away, grabbed my cane, and made my way to the bathroom. My reflection wasn't kind to me that morning. And I still needed that haircut. I threw on whatever was clean and ran out the door, looking as disheveled as usual.

Beth and I look up nervously, to see Vanessa’s raging face. She looks tired, making her seem five years older than she really is. Her hair is curled today, a little messy, and she’s wearing a dark green, low V-neck dress, which is way too tight for high school. Her lipstick looks like it has been wiped off, but not using her hands, and if you look closely; you could see a deep red mark on the neck of her neutral

My experience with writing instructors were exactly how this reading described them. They always told me to practice my grammar, so I could become a better writer. A writer to them was someone who could properly use syntax and grammar throughout their paper. I was one of the students who could not have a grammarless paper because my view of writing was different from my instructors. I learned the incorrect way of writing, the way that was imbedded in my English exams. The "professional way of writing is having no grammar mistakes" or the one where "writing does not change in your other classes". Something else that was deferent from my professor and I , was the view of writing in different classes. Each class had their own audience that required

In this semester my achievement of improving my writing skills has increased significantly. My sentence lengths vary in a positive manner along with my word choice improving, becoming more complex and of writing expectation. My main struggle this semester would be the peer editing. Although I have improved significantly I still find it difficult to edit others papers. Further more than the common spelling and grammatical errors. I believe my essays have improved drastically from the beginning of the semester towards the end.