Personal Narrative : My Best Friend

I saw a ridiculous amount of talent exhibited by young musicians that afternoon, but I noticed one thing all the pianists had in common: their faces remained blank throughout their performances. “How are they sitting so still while they play? My piano teacher has to stop me from swaying like a boat when I play the Arabesque,” I thought to myself. By the end of the recital, I realized that my earlier failure was not fruitless. That day of defeat was the day that my passion for music became clearer than ever. Though I was not the best pianist in state by any means, I loved my music. I played because I chose to, not because my parents forced me to practice for hours and hours to perfection. I understood for the first time that if I have passion for what I do, I cannot

Its a combo of a few things for me. First I started by downloading the app "Myfitness Pal" by underarmer (the free one of corse). There you plug in your current weight and then your goal weight, and it give you a "calorie limit" to kind of start off with. Then I did some research on healthier breakfast and lunch choices (leaving dinner to eat shit food lol but within the calorie limit). So for example I would eat oat meal for breakfast with almond milk instead of regular milk, or toast with avocado instead of a bagel with butter. I also carried that into my lunchs at work (let alone I started packing them, so that really helped). But for the first moth or so I wouldn't change my dinners, on the amount, to stay within the calorie limit, this way I could still enjoy food I wasn't willing to give up.

“How romantic!” the woman exclaimed. The man put her arm around her shoulder and they stood listener get to our beautiful piece from Motzart’s fifth symphony. It was time for my solo. I softly cut into the song, getting louder and louder as the rest of the orchestra got softer. I played louder and louder until I could onto longer play, and we finished the piece. They clapped for us as we all bowed. A few of us went to congratulate them for their engagement. As the rest of the orchestra went back to the hallway, I went to talk to the man.

Music has always been a major part of my family and my parents were determined that my sister and I were well acquainted with music from a young age. Inspired by the sound of the piano by the time I was six, I knew that I wanted to learn how to play it. Fast forward to the first day of class, my teacher, Ms. Lilly, guided me through the school and into a narrow hallway that held five doors. Each door opened to a cramped room that each held a piano, a stool, and a chair. Ms. Lilly’s hand softly held my shoulder as she led me to the first room. I became excited to finally expand my knowledge of music, excited to be given the opportunity to not only listen, but play music, excited that I had the opportunity to inspire others. But I soon became apprehensive about the idea of playing in front of a crowd. I worried that I wasn’t ready to excel in such a complex instrument. I held my breath and sat on the wooden stool beside my teacher, my conflicting emotions, making me dizzy, but

Delano then pulled a gun from his ankle holster and places it on the table top. --

Then Mr.Dangerfield decided to do a performance of The Princess and the Frog. So the afterschool program prepared to do the play. We would be doing the background music. Several weeks later, he decided to give an early preview of some of the music to the whole school. He let the students in higher grades perform. Then I saw an empty piano. I thought, Well, I’ll be in the real show (which turns out later I wouldn’t be in). Why can’t I be in this One? and walked on up to the piano and started playing along. When I did that, everyone was surprised. After we were done, I got a standing ovation. Everyone was happy. Then I went back to regular classes, and I knew that I could play piano. But that was a long while ago. So through all this time, I practiced whenever I could and could remember to. I became excellent at playing by ear. But then, my music died for a little while. Later on, middle school fifth and sixth grade rolled around. We had music class again. Then my brain remembered all the songs, the notes, and the music came back. Sixth Grade rolled on in, and hit me hard with more work, more responsibilities. Yet through this, my musical life survived, thriving on those moments when I could be alone and just play anything on the keyboard. First half of the year, we had Japanese. I hated that class, and couldn’t wait for when we switched to music. Then the halfway point of the year, and I started music. In fifth grade, we used recorders. But now, we used pianos. My main instrument. My music grew even more as we learned more and more on the piano, did more music. Then, as the end of the year started coming in, Ms.Barsamian, the music and drama teacher, decided we would do a little piano recital. She gave us tons of songs to choose from. But there were none that resonated with me, that I enjoyed playing, that I could connect to. And then I remembered. A song I had

My involvement with Best Buddies and UT SEEK (Student Engineers Educating Kids) has strengthened my appreciation for people of different backgrounds and conditions.

Throughout the conversation, Susan did not inform me that the home was still in First Look and not open to investors at this time. Susan did not highlight any features of the home, nor did she talk about the neighborhood or the surrounding area. When asked, Susan paused to reference the property file and stated, "In looking at the pictures it appears that it needs interior paint, carpet, appliances, and a few windows, which the previous seller must have taken." She stated, "I don't know why they have to remove things from the homes." I asked, "Do you have offers?" She paused to check the property file and answered, "No offers." I asked, "Is the property behind the home farmland?" She paused to reference the property file and replied, "It appears

I didn’t learn how to read until 2ed grade.Beacuse parents divorced my dad would take me to school some days and my mom would take me others. Little did I know my mom would drink and get high after I went to bed at night. In the morning she would sleep in with a hangover so I got dressed and ready on my own. She would not wake till 11:00 so I would play dolls and watch cartoons all morning. Because of this, I missed about 30% of grades K-3. In 3ed grade me and my dad and stepmom learned of my moms addiction. I stopped seeing my mom for a long time. During that time I discovered the joy of reading. I started later than the others so I ended up at a low reading level but once I learned to read, well, I never stopped.Stories are

After Finals, I came back to San Pedro for the summer. You wouldn't think the place would have changed that much in a year, but it sure as hell felt like I was living in another country. Most of the guys I went to high school had moved on by then and the whole town seemed so fucking strange.

My parents were forced to start their lives from scratch. My once amicable dad grew grumpy as he struggled to find a job; my parents' once happy union became anything but united as they argued more frequently. In these trying situations, I began to confine myself in my own world. Due to our tight budget, I went without the piano that had accompanied me for over ten years. I missed it desperately and struggled to let go of my depression without it. However, this bleak moment turned out to be valuable as I seized an outlet for my musical pursuits through choir.

At four years old, my mom made me take piano lessons. Given my stubborn nature as a child, I would only practice when absolutely forced by my mother. Hovering over me, she'd scream "You'll thank me later!" as I miserably sobbed while playing the G major arpeggio for the fiftieth time that night. Of course, my mom ended up being right. In ninth grade, I moved to Hilton Head Island, South Carolina to play tennis at a boarding academy and was forced to live on my own. Alone in this new environment, I turned to the one thing I had known my whole life: piano.

When you were still in the kindergarten, friends were the people who romped about with you, played mischievous tricks upon everyone. When you were getting bigger, perhaps at primary school, friends were the people who helped you in your homework, who sung with you at the school choir. Had you forgotten them? Had you betrayed them? Are you a good friend to your friends? A true friend would always tell you the truth, be you best partner when you need him, most of all, support you.

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.

It was Tuesday, July 18th. I was a nervous wreck. In desperate need of clothes to wear to impress... her. I begged my best friend Todd to join me at Woodfeild mall. He gave in and we went. Todd and I shopped for hours. Nothing looked good enough for...her. We were running out of time. I made-do with four short sleeve shirts from Champs and two pairs of sweatpants shorts from h&m. The total came out seventy dollars. We walked out and got into Todds car. I was shaking the entire ride home. Will she like it? Am I going to look fat? What about my acne? What if she doesn’t end up liking me? Nothing else crossed my mind as we pulled up to my house and I was dropped off. There was around an hour and a half until I had to leave. I walked inside