Personal Narrative: I Had A Good Time

It's a Friday afternoon, I plan to go to Great Wolf Lodge in an hour with my church. I see one of my friends so he says to his mom “ Hey, that's my friend” I said “Crap” So I go inside to sign in to go and see my friends just sitting in a corner on a big sofa. We are listening to music and just talking then a green bus comes.

I have lived in only one location my entire life: Edwardsville, Illinois. A peripheral suburb of St. Louis, it stands as the rare oasis of people in a desert of corn, pinned in its own personal bubble. Due to this blend of time and isolation, I developed a natural familiarity with my hometown. But, throughout my childhood, I longed to break free from the confines of the bubble and venture outward. However, this changed last summer, as I walked through Richards Brickyard, our family heirloom, that my great-grandfather, Benjamin Richards, founded over 120 years ago. I felt these childlike sentiments slip away. The bubble that had surrounded me for so long began to vanish, and the picture that it had been obscuring was slowly revealed.

That was a lot of money, and I didnt want to let Tony down so I got in the car and started to drive. As I drove the road was empty. I had confidence I was not going o get caught. It was a slightly wormer day out witch might have been because the sun was out. I had the windows down and was blaring music just trying to enjoy life when a cop pulls out behind me.

My papa was drafted into the Army while living in Wauseon Ohio. He joined because it was his obligation and his parents felt it was his job to serve his country. He recalls his first days of service as being homesick and was worrying that he wasn't going to return home. In May of 1968 he attended Army boot camp in Fort Gordon, Georgia. He remembers that one of the instructors he had was very strict and would yell at him if he did not stand at attention. He went

In late September of 2010, was the year I learned a new word “Depression”! I was in 1st grade and everything was fun because I had no responsibilities or worries. I didn’t know how to feel grief for a long time because I was always happy. I didn’t know that a family member could own a child.

Hello, Dr. Taft, I look forward to another exciting semester with you, and my cohorts exploring my inner and outer world. Let’s start with my family constellations it begins with my stepmother, and my father, my older brother Steven along with myself. At the time, I did not know that Ann was my stepmother, and I did not find out until I was older, and she had two sons who lived in Arizona. A few years later her eldest son Tommy would come to live with us, and the life that we were accustomed to would change the outcome of all our lives.

People cheering! Stomping on the bleachers as hard as they could. Filling the air with noise. Everyone was standing p clapping and yelling. The other team disappointed as they saw the ball go into the goal. Their goalie tried to stop it but couldn’t get to it in time.

I began storytelling long before I could read or write. But it was only when I began writing that I realized how much more complicated crafting a narrative was than I initially thought.

I slowly sit up and rest my back against the headboard of my old bed. Closing my eyes and taking everything in that has happen since I’ve woken up. Being in my old room, brings back a lot of memories of when I used to live here as a child. Moments with James, moments with my mum. I let a tear escape my eye, quickly wiping it away. I can’t let it get to me anymore. It was five years ago. A few more tears escape and I go to whip it away again when light bounces off the scars on my arm.

I was twelve years old when my family moved to the mountains of Humboldt County we moved at the beginning of winter and my father said there would be snow where we were going to live. I had never seen snow before and I couldn’t wait to build snowmen, throw snowballs and build igloos, like I had seen children on television do. A child’s excitement blossomed at the prospect of a new winter paradise

I am going to tell you a little bit of what I did this summer. School just got out and the real work begun, I started work on the first day of summer. I also played in a golf league in Gregory this summer with my dad.

I took Engl 131 last quarter and the portfolio that I submitted was my biggest accomplishment in writing. I was very proud with the result because it comprised all my effort from the whole quarter. The portfolio included six essays and explanations for each outcome of the course. It marked my improvement in writing from proving how the essays have been refined in every draft. The essays focused on the topics of audience, genres and rhetorical skills.

John and I had been friends for years. We had both lived in Seattle, then he moved to New York because his dad found a new job opportunity. Coincidentally, my dad found a job in New York that paid better than his current job too, so we ended up moving as well. Both our dads were painters, and they had met while painting a bridge across the river in town. We lived close together in the outskirts of Seattle. Both our families were poor, and couldn’t afford good transportation and schooling. John had been 14 when I was 12, but we lived next door to each other so it was hard not to be good friends.

Unfortunately I won't be in class today I'm stuck in the hospital once again with an upper respiratory infection and the flu my throat closed up Saturday night so there keeping me the until Thursday to make sure I'm okay. But just to make sure today in class where going over Russia and China right? And I'm not sure because I don't have my paper was there something about extra credit?

Think of your favorite thing in the world to do. Something that defines you. Something that you can only experience from your eyes. For me it is soccer, and through that came a rite of passage that will be with me forever.