Personal Narrative-Loathing

Not that I wasn’t happy with the choices that had led me to this point in my life, but I knew that I was destined for greater things than a “Doc on a Boat”; another nameless enlisted member of the naval medical community serving three years of sea duty on a constantly revolving door of new check-ins and farewells. Working long hours on little sleep and crappy food is what boat life is all about. You are united as a crew by what is affectionately known as “The Suck”; a general catchall term that you can blame any and all problems on and one that you signed on for by receiving orders to a boat. Now there are three types of people that I encountered, those that love and are borderline addicted to the suck, those that tolerate the suck for the

“Don’t get your hopes up, you're not good enough Mia, you're never going to make it.” It was a warm muggy night, the air still as I layed in my bed unable to sleep. The next morning the letter was supposed to come, to tell me if I got the audition for the New York City Ballet Company. I didn’t expect to get the audition and wasn't sure I really wanted it in the first place.

I used to see the world behind a lens of insecurity. When you are not comfortable in your own skin, it affects every decision you make. What changed me and saved me from this, however, was my activity in drama productions. I got a very small role in a play during my freshman year, and that prompted me to get more involved over the next few years. I got to learn from upperclassmen and got to see how everything fits into place if everyone works hard for the outcome. During my last two years at a different high school, I sought out more backstage work because the department badly needed it. All my experiences in drama productions have been positive, and all have helped me develop a healthier self image that enables me to focus my energy on other people, instead of myself.

“I am petrified. I feel as if God has abandoned me. I just sat there and watched, quietly, because I had no idea what to do. As if these kind of things are normal for a 10 year old boy to witness. Everyone tells me that “it wasn’t your fault” or that “there was nothing you could have done.” I think I believe them… but the haunting images of my 16 year old brother being beaten to death tell me otherwise. The memories tell me I should have done something to save him. But I didn’t. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about what happened to my best friend and my brother.”

I hate when people mess with me by irritating or annoying me. Also I hate being talked about me behind my back too. It bothers me so much that I can probably be mad, and upset for a whole day and not say anything to anybody. However, I do not do that a lot I just keep moving forward on what I have to do. I do this because I would not get myself into trouble by fighting or calling names, but instead I’ll try to be as positive as I can be.

Heels together, feet at a forty-five degree angle. Weight equally distributed between both legs," the commander stated with a confident tone in a respectable manner. "Chest is to be lifted and slightly arched so that your arms hang naturally along the seams of your trousers." I was quickly overwhelmed by the meticulous instructions as I attempted to follow. "Adjust your skull so that your head is aligned with your spine. At this position you will not move or speak unless directed otherwise." I could only reflect on the concept of standing completely still, so much as to forget what the leader had stated so clearly. But then I remembered that this challenge was what I had volunteered for, and l refocused on the task at hand. It was the first day of summer school, just before my senior year, at Massanutten Military Academy.

My anxiety curled into my stomach, as I broke into a sweat and my hands began to feel clammy. When it was my turn to audition, I sat on the hard wooden stool and began to play my piece. The mesmerizing tune rang through the room and my swift fingers glided smoothly along the the keys. I could feel my apprehension of the competition disappearing, and but was still concentrated in performing the piece to the best of my abilities. As the end of the song neared, my heart nearly skipped a beat as I accidentally played a noted for longer duration than intended. The entirety of my audition had been ruined. This mistake had probably cost the entire

Lurid means vivid and unpleasant. Lurid was a word on a weekly vocab quiz I took the week I first visited Simon’s Rock. Lurid was a word used casually (and properly) in a passionate discussion about a Rococo painting, The Swing, in an art history class at Simon’s Rock.

My heart is in my throat as I walk onstage. The curtain opens, and the dance number starts. I see my friend Maggie come out with the rest of the graceful dancers. She looks at ease, and I start to sweat. I remember the dance moves that Sophie taught us. Up, step, back, tease and turn. As I move my way up to the front of the circle, I try to remember the lines that I have to

PREPARATION OUTLINE Purpose Statement: To persuade my audience to exercise more Thesis Statement: Physical fitness is not just some passing trend, some spur of the moment fad. Physical fitness is a lifestyle, and one that every human being should be involved in. Introduction Attention Getter: I will start off doing jumping jacks and squats to get my audience’s attention and to get their blood flowing (so to speak). Overview of Main Points: For this persuasive speech I am going discuss the statistics on exercising, explain the advantages of exercising, and lastly the consequences that can come from not exercising.

In the beginning of the year, from week one to week five, we began learning some of the warmups and getting our body used to dance. I have never taken a dance class before so when I first entered the classroom, I was a little intimidated. One of the first things we learned was a warm up combination. The first part of the combo was where we had our right foot go forward, back to the other foot, side, back to the other foot, back behind us, and then back to the original position while clapping at the end. Then, we would repeat this process on the other side while trying to make your body not so stiff but free flowing. Next, we repeated these two steps fastly and then turn after your foot would return with the other foot. After that, we ran forward, lifting our arms and right leg up “neighing”, and then repeated on the other side. We repeated both sides twice. Next, we went to our right side lifting our right leg up and down on the floor while clapping moving sideways. After a few counts, we woulds lift our arms diagonally to the floor, and fall back to the left side. We would repeat this process on the other side as well. Additionally, we would do the octagon with our feet going back and forward. Once that was done, we would run to the right side and then run back to do the other side again. Lastly, we did the octagon dance again, running, and instead of turning back, we would go into the retire position and turn slightly to the front of the room. Last, we would repeat on the

We did not have a hate relationship. She did not abuse me. We were just two separate people with their own lives and that was 100% coming from my side. I did not want my mother to bear so much responsibility or cast ultimate blame on herself if things go wrong in my life. I think she was in shock herself. The road passed silently beneath us driving home.

Growing up my mom was constantly instilling into my head to “Honour thy father and thy mother” which I find extremely challenging, for my drunken dad at least.

In the middle of my bed are my crinkled checkered sheets as I awoke from my slumber. I slowly put one foot in front of the other shielding my eyes as I made my way over to the jarring glare of the sun shining through my window. From my drawer, I put a visor on my head to protect my eyes from the brightness of the sun. The sun beamed brighter as I opened up my wool curtains. Upon opening my curtains, I witnessed something unexpected hiding right below my window pane, in the vastness of my backyard, appeared to be a turkey. The only turkey I had ever seen was the one on Thanksgiving and wasn’t sure how to conceive exactly what I was seeing. After wrestling back and forth with my imagination of what was going on. The realization

The sound of the singing bowl's ring, marking the start of a yoga session, I reluctantly hoist both legs overhead, creating the plow pose. Suddenly, I feel pain trickling into my back.