“Hello I am Elizabeth Waldeck- and I am with the Acting Warehouse Company, downtown.” I looked into the crowd, wondering why I was assigned to give a speech to 19-year-old fraternity boys on why they should act. All they want to do is drink and have fun, like I did at that age. I scanned the primacies only seeing muscular boys in khaki shorts, button up t-shirts, and baseball caps turned around. Why am I here, this makes no sense? I just kept repeating this in my nervous head. I suddenly blurted out, “ So, I am guessing you guys would all be great actors.” Then, I see a hand shoot straight up into the dead air- oh no, I thought to myself. He had a Corona Beer t-shirt shirt on, shorts and of course a baseball cap on. He shouted from the back of the room crowded room- “ Why are you giving us a speech on acting? I don’t mean to be rude- I’m just not sure why we are here.” I responded, “ That’s a good question, I don’t know why either. I was assigned to try to convince you men on why you should act. We wanted to have several people take a class at our company downtown.” He blatted out, “ Oh ok, well... you can keep going.” So, here I am standing at a podium in a black blazer, a forty-year old single mom preaching about why teenagers should act. Not a very convincing way to get boys to want to act at our company downtown. So, after a fifteen-minute speech, I had a sign up sheet go around. I had about four lonely names printed on the line. I ended the speech with a, “ Hope school goes well and we will back soon for a follow-up.” My eyes began to tear because I had a feeling of failure inside. I have always been known to convince people of something I want, even as a child. I went to my office to drop off the quota sheet and took the rest of the day off. The next morning, I got up bright and early to get into the office.
About a week had passed, before I visited Landen College again. I got up that morning and slipped on some dark jeans and a button up white blouse. I slipped on my new J-Crew ballet flat shoes on. I gulped my last sip of coffee and wishing the boys would want to sign up. I drove to the college seeing toilet paper hanging from the trees, broken beer bottles in the drive way and a few lonely t-shirts hung on the fence posts. I should have known Sunday would not be the right day to go to visit a college after a Saturday night of all day partying. Though, this is when the college office assigned me to be there. I got into the room and all of the boys were there in a line- sighing the sheet to take my acting class downtown. I was very confused at why all of a sudden the boys took an interest in the Acting Warehouse Company. This is a mystery I still do not know to this day. It just seems that the boys may have felt bad for me, seeing my big brown eye watering last time. So, from now on I tell my son to, sometimes when someone looks upset- try to make them feel better by doing an act of kindness.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
WA-8 Convincing a Fraternity to Act
WA- Inspire Fraternities to Act
“Hello I am Elizabeth Waldeck- and I am with the Acting Warehouse Company, downtown.” I looked into the crowd, wondering why I was assigned to give a speech to 19-year-old fraternity boys on why they should act. All they want to do is drink and have fun, like I did at that age. I scanned the primacies only seeing muscular boys in khaki shorts, button up t-shirts, and baseball caps turned around. Why am I here, this makes no sense? I just kept repeating this in my nervous head. I suddenly blurted out, “ So, I am guessing you guys would all be great actors.” Then, I see a hand shoot straight up into the dead air- oh no, I thought to myself. He had a Corona Beer t-shirt shirt on, shorts and of course a baseball cap on. He shouted from the back of the room crowded room- “ Why are you giving us a speech on acting? I don’t mean to be rude- I’m just not sure why we are here.” I responded, “ That’s a good question, I don’t know why either. I was assigned to try to convince you men on why you should act. We wanted to have several people take a class at our company downtown.” He blatted out, “ Oh ok, well... you can keep going.” So, here I am standing at a podium in a black blazer, a forty-year old single mom preaching about why teenagers should act. Not a very convincing way to get boys to want to act at our company downtown. So, after a fifteen minute speech, I had a sign up sheet go around. I had about four lonely names printed on the line. I ended the speech with a, “ Hope school goes well and we will back soon for a follow-up.” My eyes began to tear because I had a feeling of failure inside. I have always been known to convince people of something I want, even as a child. I went to my office to drop off the quota sheet and took the rest of the day off. The next morning, I got up bright and early to get into the office.
About a week had passed, before I visited Landen College again. I got up that morning and slipped on some dark jeans and a button up white blouse. I sprang from the bed- hoping those boys would want to sign up. I drove to the college seeing toilet paper hanging from the trees, broken beer bottles in the gravel drive way and a few lonely t-shirts hung on the fence posts. I should have known Sunday would not be the right day to go to visit a college after a Saturday night of all day partying. Though, this is when the college office assigned me to be there. I got into the room and all of the boys were there in a line- sighing the sheet to take my acting class downtown. I was very confused at why all of a sudden the boys took an interest in the Acting Warehouse Company. This is a mystery I still do not know to this day. It just seems that the boys may have felt bad for me. So, from now on I tell my son to, sometimes when someone looks sad, try to make them feel better by doing an act of kindness.
“Hello I am Elizabeth Waldeck- and I am with the Acting Warehouse Company, downtown.” I looked into the crowd, wondering why I was assigned to give a speech to 19-year-old fraternity boys on why they should act. All they want to do is drink and have fun, like I did at that age. I scanned the primacies only seeing muscular boys in khaki shorts, button up t-shirts, and baseball caps turned around. Why am I here, this makes no sense? I just kept repeating this in my nervous head. I suddenly blurted out, “ So, I am guessing you guys would all be great actors.” Then, I see a hand shoot straight up into the dead air- oh no, I thought to myself. He had a Corona Beer t-shirt shirt on, shorts and of course a baseball cap on. He shouted from the back of the room crowded room- “ Why are you giving us a speech on acting? I don’t mean to be rude- I’m just not sure why we are here.” I responded, “ That’s a good question, I don’t know why either. I was assigned to try to convince you men on why you should act. We wanted to have several people take a class at our company downtown.” He blatted out, “ Oh ok, well... you can keep going.” So, here I am standing at a podium in a black blazer, a forty-year old single mom preaching about why teenagers should act. Not a very convincing way to get boys to want to act at our company downtown. So, after a fifteen minute speech, I had a sign up sheet go around. I had about four lonely names printed on the line. I ended the speech with a, “ Hope school goes well and we will back soon for a follow-up.” My eyes began to tear because I had a feeling of failure inside. I have always been known to convince people of something I want, even as a child. I went to my office to drop off the quota sheet and took the rest of the day off. The next morning, I got up bright and early to get into the office.
About a week had passed, before I visited Landen College again. I got up that morning and slipped on some dark jeans and a button up white blouse. I sprang from the bed- hoping those boys would want to sign up. I drove to the college seeing toilet paper hanging from the trees, broken beer bottles in the gravel drive way and a few lonely t-shirts hung on the fence posts. I should have known Sunday would not be the right day to go to visit a college after a Saturday night of all day partying. Though, this is when the college office assigned me to be there. I got into the room and all of the boys were there in a line- sighing the sheet to take my acting class downtown. I was very confused at why all of a sudden the boys took an interest in the Acting Warehouse Company. This is a mystery I still do not know to this day. It just seems that the boys may have felt bad for me. So, from now on I tell my son to, sometimes when someone looks sad, try to make them feel better by doing an act of kindness.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
WA-8 Convincing a Fraternity to Act
WA- Inspire Fraternities to Act
“Hello I am Elizabeth Waldeck- and I am with the Acting Warehouse Company, downtown.” I looked into the crowd, wondering why I was assigned to give a speech to 19-year-old fraternity boys on why they should act. All they want to do is drink and have fun, as did I at that age. I scanned the primacies only seeing muscular boys in khaki shorts; button up tees and baseball caps turned around. Why am I here, this makes no since? I just kept repeating this in my head. I blurted out, “ So, I am guessing you guys would all be great actors.” Then, I see a hand shoot straight up into the dead air- oh no, I thought to myself. He had a Corona Beer tee shirt on, shorts and of course a baseball cap on. He shouted from the back of the room crowded room- “ Why are you giving us a speech on acting? I don’t mean to be rude- I’m just not sure why we are here.” I responded, “ That’s a good question, I don’t know why either. I was assigned to try to convince ya’ll why you should act. We wanted to have several people take a class at our company downtown.” He blatted out, “ Oh ok, well... you can keep going.” So, he I am standing at a podium in a black blazer, a forty year old single mom – preaching about why teenagers should act. Not a very convincing way to get boys to want to act at our company downtown. So, after a fifteen minute speech, I had a sign up sheet go around. I had about four lonely names printed on the line. I ended the speech with a, “ Hope school goes well and we will back soon for a follow-up.” I went to my office and took the rest of the day off. The next morning, I got up bright and early to get into the office.
NOT FINISHED..........
“Hello I am Elizabeth Waldeck- and I am with the Acting Warehouse Company, downtown.” I looked into the crowd, wondering why I was assigned to give a speech to 19-year-old fraternity boys on why they should act. All they want to do is drink and have fun, as did I at that age. I scanned the primacies only seeing muscular boys in khaki shorts; button up tees and baseball caps turned around. Why am I here, this makes no since? I just kept repeating this in my head. I blurted out, “ So, I am guessing you guys would all be great actors.” Then, I see a hand shoot straight up into the dead air- oh no, I thought to myself. He had a Corona Beer tee shirt on, shorts and of course a baseball cap on. He shouted from the back of the room crowded room- “ Why are you giving us a speech on acting? I don’t mean to be rude- I’m just not sure why we are here.” I responded, “ That’s a good question, I don’t know why either. I was assigned to try to convince ya’ll why you should act. We wanted to have several people take a class at our company downtown.” He blatted out, “ Oh ok, well... you can keep going.” So, he I am standing at a podium in a black blazer, a forty year old single mom – preaching about why teenagers should act. Not a very convincing way to get boys to want to act at our company downtown. So, after a fifteen minute speech, I had a sign up sheet go around. I had about four lonely names printed on the line. I ended the speech with a, “ Hope school goes well and we will back soon for a follow-up.” I went to my office and took the rest of the day off. The next morning, I got up bright and early to get into the office.
NOT FINISHED..........
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Final Draft-Baby With Window
Mom was all dressed up for work in a white dress with red dots all scattered about. She almost stepped on my finger when I was crawling with those red shiny things that clanked on the floor. Mom picked me up and placed me closely to her chest. She gave me a big kiss on the cheek with her glossy red lipstick. My head fell onto her sweet smelling shoulder with a piece of her blonde hair falling onto the back of my neck. I played with those shiny red circles that hanged from her ears. Then, Mom handed me over to the babysitter I called, “Nana”. From the doorway she blew me a kiss and slammed the house door shut. Nana put me on the floor inside a playpen and closed the gate. I waddled over to the window, peeking from under the white curtains. I placed my cheek onto the side of the cold window and watched her slide open the van door. She plopped her purse down in the back seat along with a stack of papers, I had colored on with my new Crayola Crayons. She looked at me with a smile on her face; I thought to myself, “ boy, is this going to be a long day or what?” The car started with a ‘vroom, vroom’. There she went, off to work. I took my head off the window and decided to start crying. Hey, whenever I cry that means free food. Babysitters always give into a baby when he cries. Nana gently tugged on my shirt and lifted me over the fence. She placed me in the green high chair and fastened the belt over my stomach. She walked over and opened a fresh jar of Gerber banana baby food “Snaup” went the jar. Nana walked over to me and said, “open wide, Benny- here comes the choo choo train, chooo” I opened wide. Nana shoveled the banana stuff into my mouth.
She took me back into my room. It had blue airplanes hanging from the ceiling. I could look at them for hours. Nana placed me softly in the crib and placed a c.d. into the boom box. It was the sound of the ocean, the rain, and skipped to chirps of crickets in the summer night. I fell asleep for a while and had a dream. When I woke from my two-hour nap, I stood up holding onto the wood of the crib. Nana came in and placed me on the front of her body. I didn’t really like what she was wearing today; it was itchy and made me sneeze. Once again, she put me in the light blue playpen. There, I sat bored as can be. Then, something really cool happened to me. “ A Pen!” was lying right in front of me, imagine that. I grabbed it and started making my own piece of paper on the wall. The endless sheet of paper that lasted all across my territory! I decided to draw all sorts of lines and what I called shapes. My favorite of all was to draw, long squiggly lines- those were not Moms favorites. Nana came in yelling the “ssshhhiiiugar”. “Ooppppsy” I shrugged. Nana yanked the pen from my hands. After that, I went to the place I was bound to see Mommy some time, ‘The Window’. My head made a little bang against the window and my cheek stuck to its side.
Finally, it was a little bit dark outside but I could still see, Spot go pee on the bright fire hydrant. Then, suddenly I saw the gray van! That gray van was my best friend around this time in the evening. I saw Mom grab her files, pushing that thing to lock the doors. Her high heels made sounds as she went up the spaced out steps on the sidewalk up to the house. She put the keys into the door. The door opened and she peeked her head in, “ heeeeeyy is anyone home?” I made a little chuckle sound with drool rolling down my face, “ hhheehhhee”. She took off her shoes and came to me, picked me up over the fence and gave me ol’ kiss.
She took me back into my room. It had blue airplanes hanging from the ceiling. I could look at them for hours. Nana placed me softly in the crib and placed a c.d. into the boom box. It was the sound of the ocean, the rain, and skipped to chirps of crickets in the summer night. I fell asleep for a while and had a dream. When I woke from my two-hour nap, I stood up holding onto the wood of the crib. Nana came in and placed me on the front of her body. I didn’t really like what she was wearing today; it was itchy and made me sneeze. Once again, she put me in the light blue playpen. There, I sat bored as can be. Then, something really cool happened to me. “ A Pen!” was lying right in front of me, imagine that. I grabbed it and started making my own piece of paper on the wall. The endless sheet of paper that lasted all across my territory! I decided to draw all sorts of lines and what I called shapes. My favorite of all was to draw, long squiggly lines- those were not Moms favorites. Nana came in yelling the “ssshhhiiiugar”. “Ooppppsy” I shrugged. Nana yanked the pen from my hands. After that, I went to the place I was bound to see Mommy some time, ‘The Window’. My head made a little bang against the window and my cheek stuck to its side.
Finally, it was a little bit dark outside but I could still see, Spot go pee on the bright fire hydrant. Then, suddenly I saw the gray van! That gray van was my best friend around this time in the evening. I saw Mom grab her files, pushing that thing to lock the doors. Her high heels made sounds as she went up the spaced out steps on the sidewalk up to the house. She put the keys into the door. The door opened and she peeked her head in, “ heeeeeyy is anyone home?” I made a little chuckle sound with drool rolling down my face, “ hhheehhhee”. She took off her shoes and came to me, picked me up over the fence and gave me ol’ kiss.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
2nd draft
Mom was all dressed up for work in a white dress with red dots all scattered about. She almost stepped on my finger when I was crawling on the floor with those red shiny things that clanked on the floor. Mom picked me up and placed me closely to her chest. She gave me a big kiss on the cheek with her glossy red lipstick. My head fell onto her sweet smelling shoulder with a piece of her blonde hair falling onto the back of my neck. I played with these shiny red circles that hanged from her ears. Then, Mom handed me over to the babysitter I called, “Nana”. From the doorway she blew me a kiss and slammed the house door shut. Nana put me on the floor inside my playpen and closed the gate. I waddled over to the window, peeking from under the white curtains. I placed my cheek onto the side of the cold window and watched her slide open the van door. She plopped her purse down in the back seat along with a stack of papers I had colored on with my new Crayola Crayons. She looked at me with a smile on her face; I thought to myself, “ boy, is this going to be a long day or what?” The car started with a ‘vroom, vroom’. There she went, off to work. I took my head off the window and decided to start crying. Hey, whenever I cry that means free food. Babysitters always give into a baby when he cries. She pulled me over and lifted me over the fence of the playpen. Nana placed me in the green high chair and fastened the belt over my stomach. She walked over and opened a fresh jar of Gerber banana baby food “Snaup” went the jar. Nana walked over to me and said, “open wide, Benny- here comes the choo choo train, chooo” I opened wide. Nana shoveled the banana stuff into my mouth.
She took me back to into my room. It had blue airplanes hanging from the ceiling I could look at them for hours. Nana placed me softly in the crib and placed a c.d. into the boom box. It was the sound of the ocean, the rain, and skipped to chirps of crickets in the summer night. I fell asleep for a while and had dream. When I woke from a two-hour nap, I stood up holding on to the wood of the crib. I started rocking it back and forth. Nana came in and placed me on the front of her body. I didn’t really like what she was wearing today; it was itchy and made me sneeze. Once again, she put me in the light blue playpen. There, I sat bored as can be. Then, something really cool happened to me. “ A Pen!” was lying right in front of me, imagine that. I grabbed it and started making my own piece of paper on the wall. “Yea!” the endless sheet of paper that lasted all across my territory! I decided to draw all sorts of lines and what I called shapes. My favorite of all was to draw, long squiggly lines- those were not Moms favorites. Nana came in yelling the “ssshhhiiiugar”. “Ooppppsy” I shrugged. Nana yanked the pen from my hands. After that, I went to the place I was bound to see Mommy some time, ‘The Window’. My head made a little bang against the window and my cheek stuck to its side.
Finally, it was a little bit dark outside but I could still see, Spot go pee on the bright fire hydrant. Then, suddenly I see that gray van! That gray van was my best friend around this time in the evening. She grabbed her files, pushing that thing to lock the doors. Her high heels clanked as she went up the spaced out steps on the sidewalk up to the house. She put the keys in the door, I could always hear them went they went into the door. She opened the door and peeked her head in, “ heeeeeyy is anyone home?” I made a little chuckle sound with drool rolling down my face, “ hhheehhhee”. She took off her shoes and came to me, picked me up over the fence and gave me ol’ kiss.
She took me back to into my room. It had blue airplanes hanging from the ceiling I could look at them for hours. Nana placed me softly in the crib and placed a c.d. into the boom box. It was the sound of the ocean, the rain, and skipped to chirps of crickets in the summer night. I fell asleep for a while and had dream. When I woke from a two-hour nap, I stood up holding on to the wood of the crib. I started rocking it back and forth. Nana came in and placed me on the front of her body. I didn’t really like what she was wearing today; it was itchy and made me sneeze. Once again, she put me in the light blue playpen. There, I sat bored as can be. Then, something really cool happened to me. “ A Pen!” was lying right in front of me, imagine that. I grabbed it and started making my own piece of paper on the wall. “Yea!” the endless sheet of paper that lasted all across my territory! I decided to draw all sorts of lines and what I called shapes. My favorite of all was to draw, long squiggly lines- those were not Moms favorites. Nana came in yelling the “ssshhhiiiugar”. “Ooppppsy” I shrugged. Nana yanked the pen from my hands. After that, I went to the place I was bound to see Mommy some time, ‘The Window’. My head made a little bang against the window and my cheek stuck to its side.
Finally, it was a little bit dark outside but I could still see, Spot go pee on the bright fire hydrant. Then, suddenly I see that gray van! That gray van was my best friend around this time in the evening. She grabbed her files, pushing that thing to lock the doors. Her high heels clanked as she went up the spaced out steps on the sidewalk up to the house. She put the keys in the door, I could always hear them went they went into the door. She opened the door and peeked her head in, “ heeeeeyy is anyone home?” I made a little chuckle sound with drool rolling down my face, “ hhheehhhee”. She took off her shoes and came to me, picked me up over the fence and gave me ol’ kiss.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
WA-7 Baby Picture
Mom was all dressed up for work in a white dress with red dots all scattered about. She almost stepped on my finger when I was crawling on the floor with those red shiny things that clanked on the floor. Mom picked me up and placed me closely to her chest. She gave me a big kiss on the cheek with her glossy red lipstick. My head fell onto her sweet smelling shoulder with a piece of her blonde hair falling onto the back of my neck. I played with these shiny red circles that hanged from her ears. Then, Mom handed me over to the babysitter I called, “Nana”. From the doorway she blew me a kiss and slammed the house door shut. Nana put me on the floor inside my playpen and closed the gate. I waddled over to the window, peeking from under the white curtains. I placed my cheek onto the side of the cold window and watched her slide open the van door. She plopped her purse down in the back seat along with a stack of papers I had colored on with my new Crayola Crayons. She looked at me with a smile on her face, I thought to myself, “ boy, is this going to be a long day or what?” The car started with a ‘vroom, vroom’. There she went, off to work. I took my head off the window and decided to start crying. Hey, whenever I cry that means free food. Babysitters always give into a baby when he cries. She pulled me over and lifted me over the fence of the playpen. Nana placed me in the green high chair and fastened the belt over my stomach. She walked over and opened a fresh jar of Gerber banana baby food “Snaup” went the jar. Nana walked over to me and said “open wide, Benny- here comes the choo choo train, chooo” I opened wide. Nana shoveled the banana stuff into my mouth.
She took me back to into my room. It had blue airplanes hanging from the ceiling I could look at them for hours. Nana placed me softly in the crib and placed a c.d. into the boom box. It was the sound of the ocean, the rain, and skipped to chirps of crickets in the summer night. I fell asleep for a while and had dream. When I woke from a two-hour nap, I stood up holding on to the wood of the crib. I started rocking it back and forth. Nana came in and placed me on the front of her body. I didn’t really like what she was wearing today, it was itchy and made me sneeze. Once again, she put me in the light blue playpen. There, I sat bored as can be. Then, something really cool happened to me. “ A Pen!” was lying right in front of me, imagine that. I grabbed it and started making my own piece of paper on the wall. “Yea!” the endless sheet of paper that lasted all across my territory! I decided to draw all sorts of lines and what I called shapes. My favorite of all was to draw , long squiggly lines- those were not Moms favorites. Nana came in yelling the “ssshhhiiiugar”. “Ooppppsy” I shrugged. Nana yanked the pen from my hands. After that, I went to the place I was bound to see Mommy some time, ‘The Window’. My head made a little bang against the window and my cheek stuck to its side.
-NOT FINISHED-
She took me back to into my room. It had blue airplanes hanging from the ceiling I could look at them for hours. Nana placed me softly in the crib and placed a c.d. into the boom box. It was the sound of the ocean, the rain, and skipped to chirps of crickets in the summer night. I fell asleep for a while and had dream. When I woke from a two-hour nap, I stood up holding on to the wood of the crib. I started rocking it back and forth. Nana came in and placed me on the front of her body. I didn’t really like what she was wearing today, it was itchy and made me sneeze. Once again, she put me in the light blue playpen. There, I sat bored as can be. Then, something really cool happened to me. “ A Pen!” was lying right in front of me, imagine that. I grabbed it and started making my own piece of paper on the wall. “Yea!” the endless sheet of paper that lasted all across my territory! I decided to draw all sorts of lines and what I called shapes. My favorite of all was to draw , long squiggly lines- those were not Moms favorites. Nana came in yelling the “ssshhhiiiugar”. “Ooppppsy” I shrugged. Nana yanked the pen from my hands. After that, I went to the place I was bound to see Mommy some time, ‘The Window’. My head made a little bang against the window and my cheek stuck to its side.
-NOT FINISHED-
Saturday, March 1, 2008
adventure-final
WA6- Plot~ Adventure
It was a brisk sunny morning when Al Dover woke from the newspaper-padded steps of a New York City skyscraper. His head was against the gratified wall and his legs faced the entrance of the building. His nine-year-old Shepard mix- Sandy was nestled into the side of his patched jacket. He stood up and took a large breath and exhaled, sighing “What a beautiful day it is, Sandy”. Al never posted signs reading “Give to the homeless” or along the lines of “ Will work for food”. He thought that it was un-fair for others to pay for adventures he had taken in life. Al was only 26 years old. He had golden skin and his body type was slender but strong. His chapped face had a few blonde whiskers out of place, lips and cheeks were rosy and his wavy hair ended at the bottom of his neck. He never was motivated to get a job; he was just that kid-growing up in the shadow of his wealthy parents. His parents lived great lives-parties, expensive booze, shopping at Saks. By the time Al-or Alexander reached 16 and eight months he decided to leave the spotlight and run away from home.
The very next day an onlooker could see Al sprawled out on the concrete porch of “J’s Pancake House”. He had his arms and feet crossed. Then moments later he stretched his arm out and poked Miss Tiffany Campbell in her thigh, hitting her tight light blue skirt and top set. She was this sweet thing that worked at the silver spoon diner. Tiffany served hot cakes every Saturday morning. She felt this tap on her thigh. She looked down with her almond shaped brown eyes outlined with smeared baby blue eyeliner; jet-black clumps for eyelashes, electric pink lips and bleach blonde curly hair. He whispered to her, “Helllllooo girl, I am assuming Tiffany” due to her pink nametag on her left chest. She dropped her car keys and yelped “Hi?” Tiffany asked him to come inside for a hot cup of coffee; he couldn’t resist the offer she made. Miss Tiffany seated him at the bar and poured him a cup of coffee with cream and sugar. She plopped a pile of fresh pancakes in front of his scruffy face and said “ Enjoy.” Al daydreamed wondering, “Why is this girl being so nice to me, have I really done anything to help her day?” Or even the thought of marriage crossed his racing mind. She then came back to take his syrup filled plates. Al stayed at the diner all day with Tiffany. The two had a long conversation from his parents to her hometown of Newark, New Jersey. As the sun began to go down, it was time for Al and Sandy to leave the blue-collar diner. As he left he said,” Thanks ma’am for letting me in on this cold November day. I have really enjoyed the company and of course the pancakes.” She shrugged the comment off her shoulders and said, “ It’s no bigge- Dover”.
Al Dover was now motivated to get a job. It was when Tiffany told him, “ With your great looks and handy skills… I’m sure you can get a great job in no time. Hey- if you ever travel around the world pack me in your suitcase. ” The two chuckled after the comment. After three months of walking the streets of mid and upper Manhattan looking for jobs at hardware stores and electronic depots, it was one afternoon when he happened to be in Times Square. He bumped into Gary Gupenberger, an acting agent in Hollywood. Mr. Gupenberger asked Al to fly out to Hollywood to try out in an audition for a scene in a daytime soap opera. Al was in for the adventure of his lifetime. Once he arrived in LAX airport he was picked up in a white chocolate colored limousine. Al arrived at the auditioning studios and made the soap opera “Days in the Light”. Dover- his new Hollywood name was on the cover of every magazine. Teens and young adults had his name and photos plastered everywhere. He constantly took jets around the world, living the high life once again.
Five years had gone by and Dover was relaxing in his New York mansion in the countryside looking at old photos that he had taken with his disposable camera several years ago. He came across photos of his family, his dog Sandy, and then a fading photo fell out. It was the picture of- Tiffany Campbell. At that instant he grabbed the keys to his BMW- and was on his way to “J’s Pancake House” on 23rd street. He hoped out of the car and opened the glass door, “dingdong”. The young teenager asked, “ How many?” He said, ”Just one will do”. She popped her gum and said right this way, “sir”. He looked around the restaurant and said have you happened to see Tiffany, she must be my age now. She popped her gum and said, “Yeah, she’s right over there” and she grabbed his menu. Al got up from the booth and pretended to bump into her. She got to “pardon me” and placed her fingers over her mouth. The two instantly fell back in love. After six months of dating, the two got married. He was the syrup to her pancakes and she was the cream to his coffee.
It was a brisk sunny morning when Al Dover woke from the newspaper-padded steps of a New York City skyscraper. His head was against the gratified wall and his legs faced the entrance of the building. His nine-year-old Shepard mix- Sandy was nestled into the side of his patched jacket. He stood up and took a large breath and exhaled, sighing “What a beautiful day it is, Sandy”. Al never posted signs reading “Give to the homeless” or along the lines of “ Will work for food”. He thought that it was un-fair for others to pay for adventures he had taken in life. Al was only 26 years old. He had golden skin and his body type was slender but strong. His chapped face had a few blonde whiskers out of place, lips and cheeks were rosy and his wavy hair ended at the bottom of his neck. He never was motivated to get a job; he was just that kid-growing up in the shadow of his wealthy parents. His parents lived great lives-parties, expensive booze, shopping at Saks. By the time Al-or Alexander reached 16 and eight months he decided to leave the spotlight and run away from home.
The very next day an onlooker could see Al sprawled out on the concrete porch of “J’s Pancake House”. He had his arms and feet crossed. Then moments later he stretched his arm out and poked Miss Tiffany Campbell in her thigh, hitting her tight light blue skirt and top set. She was this sweet thing that worked at the silver spoon diner. Tiffany served hot cakes every Saturday morning. She felt this tap on her thigh. She looked down with her almond shaped brown eyes outlined with smeared baby blue eyeliner; jet-black clumps for eyelashes, electric pink lips and bleach blonde curly hair. He whispered to her, “Helllllooo girl, I am assuming Tiffany” due to her pink nametag on her left chest. She dropped her car keys and yelped “Hi?” Tiffany asked him to come inside for a hot cup of coffee; he couldn’t resist the offer she made. Miss Tiffany seated him at the bar and poured him a cup of coffee with cream and sugar. She plopped a pile of fresh pancakes in front of his scruffy face and said “ Enjoy.” Al daydreamed wondering, “Why is this girl being so nice to me, have I really done anything to help her day?” Or even the thought of marriage crossed his racing mind. She then came back to take his syrup filled plates. Al stayed at the diner all day with Tiffany. The two had a long conversation from his parents to her hometown of Newark, New Jersey. As the sun began to go down, it was time for Al and Sandy to leave the blue-collar diner. As he left he said,” Thanks ma’am for letting me in on this cold November day. I have really enjoyed the company and of course the pancakes.” She shrugged the comment off her shoulders and said, “ It’s no bigge- Dover”.
Al Dover was now motivated to get a job. It was when Tiffany told him, “ With your great looks and handy skills… I’m sure you can get a great job in no time. Hey- if you ever travel around the world pack me in your suitcase. ” The two chuckled after the comment. After three months of walking the streets of mid and upper Manhattan looking for jobs at hardware stores and electronic depots, it was one afternoon when he happened to be in Times Square. He bumped into Gary Gupenberger, an acting agent in Hollywood. Mr. Gupenberger asked Al to fly out to Hollywood to try out in an audition for a scene in a daytime soap opera. Al was in for the adventure of his lifetime. Once he arrived in LAX airport he was picked up in a white chocolate colored limousine. Al arrived at the auditioning studios and made the soap opera “Days in the Light”. Dover- his new Hollywood name was on the cover of every magazine. Teens and young adults had his name and photos plastered everywhere. He constantly took jets around the world, living the high life once again.
Five years had gone by and Dover was relaxing in his New York mansion in the countryside looking at old photos that he had taken with his disposable camera several years ago. He came across photos of his family, his dog Sandy, and then a fading photo fell out. It was the picture of- Tiffany Campbell. At that instant he grabbed the keys to his BMW- and was on his way to “J’s Pancake House” on 23rd street. He hoped out of the car and opened the glass door, “dingdong”. The young teenager asked, “ How many?” He said, ”Just one will do”. She popped her gum and said right this way, “sir”. He looked around the restaurant and said have you happened to see Tiffany, she must be my age now. She popped her gum and said, “Yeah, she’s right over there” and she grabbed his menu. Al got up from the booth and pretended to bump into her. She got to “pardon me” and placed her fingers over her mouth. The two instantly fell back in love. After six months of dating, the two got married. He was the syrup to her pancakes and she was the cream to his coffee.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
2nd draft- Adventure
WA6- Plot~ Adventure
It was a brisk sunny morning when Al Dover woke from the newspaper-padded steps of a New York City skyscraper. His head was against the wall and his legs were facing straight into the entrance of the building. His nine-year-old Shepard mix- Sandy was nestled into the side of his jacket. He stood up and took a large breath and exhaled, sighing “What a beautiful day it is, Sandy”. Al never posted signs reading “Give to the homeless” or along the lines of “ Will work for food”. He thought that it was un-fair for others to pay for mistakes he had made in life. Al was only 26 years old. He never was motivated to get a job; he was just that kid-growing up in the shadow of his wealthy parents. His parents lived great lives-parties, expensive booze, shopping at Saks. By the time Al-or Alexander reached 16 and eight months he decided to run away from home.
The very next day Al was crouched on the concrete porch of “J’s Pancake House”. He stretched his arm out and poked Miss Tiffany Campbell in her tight light blue skirt and top. She was this sweet thing that worked at this silver spoon diner. She served hot cakes every Saturday morning. She felt this tap on her thigh. She looked down with her almond shaped brown eyes, with smeared baby blue eye-liner, jet-black clumps for eyelashes, electric pink lips and bleach blonde curly hair. He whispered to her, “Helllllooo girl, I am assuming Tiffany” due to her pink name-tag. She dropped her car keys and yelped “Hi?”. Tiffany asked him to come inside for a hot cup of coffee; he couldn’t resist the offer she made. She seated him at the bar and poured him a hot cup of coffee with cream and sugar. She dumped a pile of pancakes in front of his scruffy face. She said, “ Enjoy.” Al daydreamed wondering, “Why is this girl being so nice to me, have I really done anything to help her day?” Or even the thought of marriage crossed his racing mind. She then came back to take his syrup filled plates. Al stayed at the diner all day with Tiffany. The two had a long conversation from his parents to her hometown of Newark, New Jersey. As the sun began to go down, it was time for Al and Sandy to leave the blue-collar diner. He thanked her for her kindness and she wished him “good luck”. Although, the two knew that they were in love, just by the few hours of meeting each other.
Al felt better than ever, he was going to go find a job. He knew he could, he was the son of the man who invented “Toaster Strudels”. After three months of looking Al Dover found a job at Ace Hardware store in one of the few residential areas of New York City. He was at the top of his game- working nine-hour days and doing a few things for the company on the side. The owner of the rickety hardware store- Greg Turner allowed Al to stay in the one bedroom apartment upstairs. It was poorly managed- the apartment consisted of a lamp, a mattress and an end table. It had just enough room for Sandy to have a corner on the side. A few months went by. Al had been doing work on a modern day townhouse in upper Manhatten for a new Hollywood Star- Grace Banks. Al asked Greg to help finish the job on the townhouse along with him. The two made millions on fixing the house. From gutting the walls, painting, plumbing, and putting on siding.
As time went by- Al was now 33 years of age. He was relaxing in his new house in the country side looking at old photos that he had taken with his disposable camera several years ago. He came across photos of his family, his dog Sandy, and then a fading photo fell out. It was the picture of- Tiffany Campbell. At that instant he grabbed the keys to his Land Rover- and was on his way to “J’s Pancake House” on 23rd st. He hoped out of the car and opened the glass door, “dingdong”. The young teenager asked, “ How many?” He said ”Just one will do”. She popped her gum and said right this way, sir. He looked around the restaurant and said have you happened to see Tiffany, she must be my age now. She popped her gum and said, “yeah, she’s right over there” and she grabbed his torn menu. Al got up from the booth and pretended to bump into her. She got to “par.. in pardon me” and placed her fingers over her mouth. The two instantly fell back in love. After six months of dating, the two got married. He was the syrup to her pancakes and she was the cream to his coffee.
It was a brisk sunny morning when Al Dover woke from the newspaper-padded steps of a New York City skyscraper. His head was against the wall and his legs were facing straight into the entrance of the building. His nine-year-old Shepard mix- Sandy was nestled into the side of his jacket. He stood up and took a large breath and exhaled, sighing “What a beautiful day it is, Sandy”. Al never posted signs reading “Give to the homeless” or along the lines of “ Will work for food”. He thought that it was un-fair for others to pay for mistakes he had made in life. Al was only 26 years old. He never was motivated to get a job; he was just that kid-growing up in the shadow of his wealthy parents. His parents lived great lives-parties, expensive booze, shopping at Saks. By the time Al-or Alexander reached 16 and eight months he decided to run away from home.
The very next day Al was crouched on the concrete porch of “J’s Pancake House”. He stretched his arm out and poked Miss Tiffany Campbell in her tight light blue skirt and top. She was this sweet thing that worked at this silver spoon diner. She served hot cakes every Saturday morning. She felt this tap on her thigh. She looked down with her almond shaped brown eyes, with smeared baby blue eye-liner, jet-black clumps for eyelashes, electric pink lips and bleach blonde curly hair. He whispered to her, “Helllllooo girl, I am assuming Tiffany” due to her pink name-tag. She dropped her car keys and yelped “Hi?”. Tiffany asked him to come inside for a hot cup of coffee; he couldn’t resist the offer she made. She seated him at the bar and poured him a hot cup of coffee with cream and sugar. She dumped a pile of pancakes in front of his scruffy face. She said, “ Enjoy.” Al daydreamed wondering, “Why is this girl being so nice to me, have I really done anything to help her day?” Or even the thought of marriage crossed his racing mind. She then came back to take his syrup filled plates. Al stayed at the diner all day with Tiffany. The two had a long conversation from his parents to her hometown of Newark, New Jersey. As the sun began to go down, it was time for Al and Sandy to leave the blue-collar diner. He thanked her for her kindness and she wished him “good luck”. Although, the two knew that they were in love, just by the few hours of meeting each other.
Al felt better than ever, he was going to go find a job. He knew he could, he was the son of the man who invented “Toaster Strudels”. After three months of looking Al Dover found a job at Ace Hardware store in one of the few residential areas of New York City. He was at the top of his game- working nine-hour days and doing a few things for the company on the side. The owner of the rickety hardware store- Greg Turner allowed Al to stay in the one bedroom apartment upstairs. It was poorly managed- the apartment consisted of a lamp, a mattress and an end table. It had just enough room for Sandy to have a corner on the side. A few months went by. Al had been doing work on a modern day townhouse in upper Manhatten for a new Hollywood Star- Grace Banks. Al asked Greg to help finish the job on the townhouse along with him. The two made millions on fixing the house. From gutting the walls, painting, plumbing, and putting on siding.
As time went by- Al was now 33 years of age. He was relaxing in his new house in the country side looking at old photos that he had taken with his disposable camera several years ago. He came across photos of his family, his dog Sandy, and then a fading photo fell out. It was the picture of- Tiffany Campbell. At that instant he grabbed the keys to his Land Rover- and was on his way to “J’s Pancake House” on 23rd st. He hoped out of the car and opened the glass door, “dingdong”. The young teenager asked, “ How many?” He said ”Just one will do”. She popped her gum and said right this way, sir. He looked around the restaurant and said have you happened to see Tiffany, she must be my age now. She popped her gum and said, “yeah, she’s right over there” and she grabbed his torn menu. Al got up from the booth and pretended to bump into her. She got to “par.. in pardon me” and placed her fingers over her mouth. The two instantly fell back in love. After six months of dating, the two got married. He was the syrup to her pancakes and she was the cream to his coffee.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
WA6-Plot~Adventure?
WA6-Plot~ Adventure
It was a brisk sunny morning when Al Dover woke from the newspaper-padded steps of a New York City skyscraper. His head was against the wall and his legs were facing straight out into the entrance of the building. His nine-year-old Shepard mix- Sandy had her head nestled into the side of his jacket. He stood up and took a large breath and exhaled, sighing “What a beautiful day it is, Sandy”. Al never posted signs reading “Give to the homeless” or along the lines of “ Will work for food”. He thought that it was not fair for others to pay for mistakes he had made in life. Al was only 26 years old, by now. He never was motivated to get a job; he was just that kid-growing up in the shadow of his wealthy parents. His parents lived great lives-parties, expensive booze, shopping at Saks. By the time Al-or Alexander reached 16 and eight months he decided to run away from home.
The very next day Al was crouched on the concrete porch of “J’s Pancake House”. He stretched his arm out and noticed Miss Tiffany Campbell in her light blue skirt and top. She was this sweet thing that worked at this silver spoon diner. She served hot cakes every Saturday morning and saw Al. Right as Al woke up; she was staring straight at him. Her almond shaped brown eyes, with smeared baby blue eyeliner, jet-black clumps for eyelashes, electric pink lips and bleach blonde curly hair. He whispered to her, “ Helllllooo girl, I am assuming Tiffany” due to her pink name tag. She dropped her car keys and yelped “Hi?”. Tiffany asked him to come inside for a hot cup of coffee; he couldn’t resist the offer she made. She seated him on the bar and poured him a hot cup of coffee with cream and sugar. She dumped a pile of pancakes in front of his scruffy face. She said, “ Enjoy.” Al was thinking, why is this girl being so nice to me, have I really done anything to help her day? Or even the thought of marriage crossed his racing mind. She then came back to take his syrup filled plates. Al stayed at the diner all day with Tiffany. The two had the longest conversation from his dog to her hometown of Newark, New Jersey. As the sun began to go down, it was time for Al and Sandy to leave the blue-collar diner. He thanked her for her kindness and she wished him a “goodluck”. But the two knew that they were in love, just by the few hours of meeting each other.
Al felt better than ever, he was going to go find a job. He knew he could, he was the son of the man who invented “Toaster Strudels”. After three months of looking Al Dover found a job at Ace Hardware store in one of the few residential areas of New York City. He was at the top of game- working nine-hour days and doing a few things for the company on the side. The owner- Greg Turner allowed Al to stay in the one bedroom apartment upstairs. It was poorly managed- the apartment consisted of a lamp, a mattress and an end table. It had just enough room for Sandy to have a corner on the side. To Al, it was perfect- this is all he had wanted in life. Enough space to do what he wants. Al asked Greg to go in on a deal with him. The deal was to help out James Woodworth- a famous family in New York City to do work on their turn of the century town house. The two made millions.
As time went by- Al was now 42 years of age. He was relaxing in his new house looking at old photos that he had taken with his disposable camera several years ago. He came across photos of his family, his dog Sandy, and then a fading photo fell out. It was the picture of- Tiffany Campbell. At that instant he grabbed the keys to his Land Rover- and was on his way to “J’s Pancake House”. He hoped out of the car and opened the glass door, “dingdong”. The young teenager asked, “ How many?” He said ”Just one will do”. She popped her gum and said right this way, sir. He looked around the restaurant and said have you happened to see Tiffany, she must be my age now. She popped her gum and said, “yeah, she’s right over there” and she grabbed his torn menu. Al got up from the booth and pretended to bump into her. She got to par- in pardon me and placed her fingers over her mouth. The two instantly fell back in love. After six months of dating, the two got married. He was the syrup to her pancakes and she was the cream to his coffee.
It was a brisk sunny morning when Al Dover woke from the newspaper-padded steps of a New York City skyscraper. His head was against the wall and his legs were facing straight out into the entrance of the building. His nine-year-old Shepard mix- Sandy had her head nestled into the side of his jacket. He stood up and took a large breath and exhaled, sighing “What a beautiful day it is, Sandy”. Al never posted signs reading “Give to the homeless” or along the lines of “ Will work for food”. He thought that it was not fair for others to pay for mistakes he had made in life. Al was only 26 years old, by now. He never was motivated to get a job; he was just that kid-growing up in the shadow of his wealthy parents. His parents lived great lives-parties, expensive booze, shopping at Saks. By the time Al-or Alexander reached 16 and eight months he decided to run away from home.
The very next day Al was crouched on the concrete porch of “J’s Pancake House”. He stretched his arm out and noticed Miss Tiffany Campbell in her light blue skirt and top. She was this sweet thing that worked at this silver spoon diner. She served hot cakes every Saturday morning and saw Al. Right as Al woke up; she was staring straight at him. Her almond shaped brown eyes, with smeared baby blue eyeliner, jet-black clumps for eyelashes, electric pink lips and bleach blonde curly hair. He whispered to her, “ Helllllooo girl, I am assuming Tiffany” due to her pink name tag. She dropped her car keys and yelped “Hi?”. Tiffany asked him to come inside for a hot cup of coffee; he couldn’t resist the offer she made. She seated him on the bar and poured him a hot cup of coffee with cream and sugar. She dumped a pile of pancakes in front of his scruffy face. She said, “ Enjoy.” Al was thinking, why is this girl being so nice to me, have I really done anything to help her day? Or even the thought of marriage crossed his racing mind. She then came back to take his syrup filled plates. Al stayed at the diner all day with Tiffany. The two had the longest conversation from his dog to her hometown of Newark, New Jersey. As the sun began to go down, it was time for Al and Sandy to leave the blue-collar diner. He thanked her for her kindness and she wished him a “goodluck”. But the two knew that they were in love, just by the few hours of meeting each other.
Al felt better than ever, he was going to go find a job. He knew he could, he was the son of the man who invented “Toaster Strudels”. After three months of looking Al Dover found a job at Ace Hardware store in one of the few residential areas of New York City. He was at the top of game- working nine-hour days and doing a few things for the company on the side. The owner- Greg Turner allowed Al to stay in the one bedroom apartment upstairs. It was poorly managed- the apartment consisted of a lamp, a mattress and an end table. It had just enough room for Sandy to have a corner on the side. To Al, it was perfect- this is all he had wanted in life. Enough space to do what he wants. Al asked Greg to go in on a deal with him. The deal was to help out James Woodworth- a famous family in New York City to do work on their turn of the century town house. The two made millions.
As time went by- Al was now 42 years of age. He was relaxing in his new house looking at old photos that he had taken with his disposable camera several years ago. He came across photos of his family, his dog Sandy, and then a fading photo fell out. It was the picture of- Tiffany Campbell. At that instant he grabbed the keys to his Land Rover- and was on his way to “J’s Pancake House”. He hoped out of the car and opened the glass door, “dingdong”. The young teenager asked, “ How many?” He said ”Just one will do”. She popped her gum and said right this way, sir. He looked around the restaurant and said have you happened to see Tiffany, she must be my age now. She popped her gum and said, “yeah, she’s right over there” and she grabbed his torn menu. Al got up from the booth and pretended to bump into her. She got to par- in pardon me and placed her fingers over her mouth. The two instantly fell back in love. After six months of dating, the two got married. He was the syrup to her pancakes and she was the cream to his coffee.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Final Draft- A Day to Remember
Article: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/22/world/middleeast/22mideast.html
It was an early morning, the golden sun rising in between the worn mountain ridges. The white curtains were pulled to the side letting the sun stream through the window. The Palestinian girl kicked the white linen covers to the bottom of the bed. Her slippers were off to the right on the worn gray wood floor. The squeaky wooden door flew open, into a hallway that led into the kitchen. The brown skinned girl reached into the old fashioned fridge for Florida orange juice. She reached for the paint chipped cabinets for a clear glass cup; the cup was brought down to the counter. She held the cup with her left hand as the juice poured like a waterfall into the glass. Kelly walked threw the living room to the screen door. The living room had nick knack antiques scattered about, pottery and religious Hindu items. She swung the door open and bent down to get the newspaper. Kay-short for Kelly heard the little boy on his blue bike peddle back down her dusty road. She hollered to him a simple thank you. He tilted his hat down to her.
Kelly opened the swinging door with her big toe. She read the headlines slowly “Israel Allows Some Supplies into Gaza”. She glanced down to read the caption of the picture, “Palestinians waited to buy bread from a baker in the Gaza Strip Monday”. She looked back at the picture and saw a man with a beard holding a bag. He was putting several pieces of cake batter colored bread into it. Then she saw on the other side several men of all ages reaching into the bakery. Which consisted of a window, almost as if it were a drive though. There were two boys in the window, squirming to get their bread. The picture displayed an endless line of people scattered about. Several men were huddling waiting to catch a moment to be able to slip in the line and place their order.
Kelly was fascinated by the story. She read the rest of the article, briefly. She then chugged the rest of the “o.j”, spilling a few drops onto her lightly cream colored robe. She bolted into the bathroom, turned on the hot water and hoped into the shower. Kelly opened the door, wearing tight jeans with a small hole in her left thigh, a white button down oxford and her hair dried naturally into her rich thick hair. She had put on a pair of simple turquoise earrings. Kelly dove into the guest room and pulled out a brown leather bag, packing the basics. Then, walked into the living room and grabbed a pair of Adidas running shoes and slipped those on. She locked the door and darted down the rickety stairs to her right. A slip was pulled off the car; it was an old chrome yellow Jeep Wrangler with two very thin gray stripes on the side. The engine started; all that was to be seen was a car zooming down the dirt road for the city and an excited twenty four year old screaming at the top of her lungs to her favorite music.
She was so fascinated by the story she wanted to make a difference, by helping pass out foods and supply new goods to Gaza. A quick phone call was made to a local volunteer center. Her name and information was in the files and she was ready to work. She drove into the city, and spotted several designated areas where help was needed. Several kids stood around the girl as she passed out simple foods. Kelly whipped out her camera to remember that moment. She looked around; the worn clothes the children were wearing. Kelly then passed out foods, several new t-shirts and shoes made from recycled plastic. Kelly returned home and printed out the photos in black and white from earlier that day. The first thing she noticed were the bright smiles the children had when they received the new items. A small tear dropped from her rosy cheek, the smiles were all that mattered to Kelly Roberts.
It was an early morning, the golden sun rising in between the worn mountain ridges. The white curtains were pulled to the side letting the sun stream through the window. The Palestinian girl kicked the white linen covers to the bottom of the bed. Her slippers were off to the right on the worn gray wood floor. The squeaky wooden door flew open, into a hallway that led into the kitchen. The brown skinned girl reached into the old fashioned fridge for Florida orange juice. She reached for the paint chipped cabinets for a clear glass cup; the cup was brought down to the counter. She held the cup with her left hand as the juice poured like a waterfall into the glass. Kelly walked threw the living room to the screen door. The living room had nick knack antiques scattered about, pottery and religious Hindu items. She swung the door open and bent down to get the newspaper. Kay-short for Kelly heard the little boy on his blue bike peddle back down her dusty road. She hollered to him a simple thank you. He tilted his hat down to her.
Kelly opened the swinging door with her big toe. She read the headlines slowly “Israel Allows Some Supplies into Gaza”. She glanced down to read the caption of the picture, “Palestinians waited to buy bread from a baker in the Gaza Strip Monday”. She looked back at the picture and saw a man with a beard holding a bag. He was putting several pieces of cake batter colored bread into it. Then she saw on the other side several men of all ages reaching into the bakery. Which consisted of a window, almost as if it were a drive though. There were two boys in the window, squirming to get their bread. The picture displayed an endless line of people scattered about. Several men were huddling waiting to catch a moment to be able to slip in the line and place their order.
Kelly was fascinated by the story. She read the rest of the article, briefly. She then chugged the rest of the “o.j”, spilling a few drops onto her lightly cream colored robe. She bolted into the bathroom, turned on the hot water and hoped into the shower. Kelly opened the door, wearing tight jeans with a small hole in her left thigh, a white button down oxford and her hair dried naturally into her rich thick hair. She had put on a pair of simple turquoise earrings. Kelly dove into the guest room and pulled out a brown leather bag, packing the basics. Then, walked into the living room and grabbed a pair of Adidas running shoes and slipped those on. She locked the door and darted down the rickety stairs to her right. A slip was pulled off the car; it was an old chrome yellow Jeep Wrangler with two very thin gray stripes on the side. The engine started; all that was to be seen was a car zooming down the dirt road for the city and an excited twenty four year old screaming at the top of her lungs to her favorite music.
She was so fascinated by the story she wanted to make a difference, by helping pass out foods and supply new goods to Gaza. A quick phone call was made to a local volunteer center. Her name and information was in the files and she was ready to work. She drove into the city, and spotted several designated areas where help was needed. Several kids stood around the girl as she passed out simple foods. Kelly whipped out her camera to remember that moment. She looked around; the worn clothes the children were wearing. Kelly then passed out foods, several new t-shirts and shoes made from recycled plastic. Kelly returned home and printed out the photos in black and white from earlier that day. The first thing she noticed were the bright smiles the children had when they received the new items. A small tear dropped from her rosy cheek, the smiles were all that mattered to Kelly Roberts.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Writing Assignment #5, Draft # 2
Article: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/22/world/middleeast/22mideast.html
It was an early morning, the sun rising in between the worn mountain ridges. The white curtains were pulled to the side letting the sun stream through the window. The slightly tanned girl kicked the white linen covers to the bottom of the bed. Her slippers were off to the right on top of the worn gray wood floor. The squeaky wooden door flew open, into a hallway that led into the kitchen. The strawberry blonde reached into the old fashioned fridge for the Florida orange juice. The girl reached for the paint chipped cabinets for a clear glass cup; the cup was brought down to the counter. She held the cup with her left hand as the juice poured like a fast river into the glass. Kelly walked threw the living room to the screen door. The living room had nick knack antiques scattered about, pottery and tin photos in farm wood frames. Kel swung the door open and bent down to get the newspaper. The gal heard the little boy on his blue bike peddle back down her dusty country road. The schoolgirl waved to him a simple thank you. He tilted his hat down to her.
Kelly kicks the swinging door with her big toe. She reads the headlines slowly “Israel Allows Some Supplies into Gaza”. The hazy blue eyes scrolls down to read the caption of the picture, “Palestinians waited to buy bread from a baker in the Gaza Strip Monday”. She looked back up to the picture and saw a man with a beard holding a bag putting several pieces of cake batter colored bread into it. She then sees on the other side several men of all ages reaching into the bakery. Which consists of a window, almost as if it were a drive though. There are two boys in the window, squirming to get their bread. The picture is endless in the line of people scattered about. Several men are huddling waiting to catch a moment to be able to slip in the line and place their order.
The young girl is fascinated by the story. She reads the rest of the article, briefly. The thin girl chugs the rest of the “o.j.”, spilling a few drops onto her lightly cream colored robe. She bolts into the bathroom, turns on the hot water and hops into the shower. Kelly opens the door, wearing tight jeans with a small hole in her left thigh, a white button down oxford and lets her hair dry naturally into her thick wavy hair. The original cowgirl quickly puts on simple turquoise earrings to match her eyes. Kay dives into the guest room and pulls out a brown leather bag, packing the basics. Then, walks into the living room grabs a pair of sandals, running shoes, and high leather heals and slips those on. She locks the door and darts down the rickety stairs to her right. A slip is pulled off the car; it is an old Jeep Wrangler. The engine starts; all that is to be seen is a car zooming down the dirt road for the city and an excited gal screaming at the top of her lungs to her favorite music.
Kay is so fascinated by the story she wants to make a difference, by helping pass out foods and supply new goods to Gaza. A quick phone call is made to a local volunteer center. Her name is in the files and she is ready to work. The schoolgirl drives into the city, spotting several designated areas where help is needed. Several kids huddle around the girl as she passes out simple foods. Kelly whips out her camera to remember this moment. She looks around, looking at the worn clothes the children were wearing. The feeling inside her is so warming and loving. At the end of the day, Kelly drives home so happy. The feeling inside is great because even though the children had torn clothing and homemade toys, the smiles that the children had, that were in the black and white photos was all that mattered to Kelly Roberts.
It was an early morning, the sun rising in between the worn mountain ridges. The white curtains were pulled to the side letting the sun stream through the window. The slightly tanned girl kicked the white linen covers to the bottom of the bed. Her slippers were off to the right on top of the worn gray wood floor. The squeaky wooden door flew open, into a hallway that led into the kitchen. The strawberry blonde reached into the old fashioned fridge for the Florida orange juice. The girl reached for the paint chipped cabinets for a clear glass cup; the cup was brought down to the counter. She held the cup with her left hand as the juice poured like a fast river into the glass. Kelly walked threw the living room to the screen door. The living room had nick knack antiques scattered about, pottery and tin photos in farm wood frames. Kel swung the door open and bent down to get the newspaper. The gal heard the little boy on his blue bike peddle back down her dusty country road. The schoolgirl waved to him a simple thank you. He tilted his hat down to her.
Kelly kicks the swinging door with her big toe. She reads the headlines slowly “Israel Allows Some Supplies into Gaza”. The hazy blue eyes scrolls down to read the caption of the picture, “Palestinians waited to buy bread from a baker in the Gaza Strip Monday”. She looked back up to the picture and saw a man with a beard holding a bag putting several pieces of cake batter colored bread into it. She then sees on the other side several men of all ages reaching into the bakery. Which consists of a window, almost as if it were a drive though. There are two boys in the window, squirming to get their bread. The picture is endless in the line of people scattered about. Several men are huddling waiting to catch a moment to be able to slip in the line and place their order.
The young girl is fascinated by the story. She reads the rest of the article, briefly. The thin girl chugs the rest of the “o.j.”, spilling a few drops onto her lightly cream colored robe. She bolts into the bathroom, turns on the hot water and hops into the shower. Kelly opens the door, wearing tight jeans with a small hole in her left thigh, a white button down oxford and lets her hair dry naturally into her thick wavy hair. The original cowgirl quickly puts on simple turquoise earrings to match her eyes. Kay dives into the guest room and pulls out a brown leather bag, packing the basics. Then, walks into the living room grabs a pair of sandals, running shoes, and high leather heals and slips those on. She locks the door and darts down the rickety stairs to her right. A slip is pulled off the car; it is an old Jeep Wrangler. The engine starts; all that is to be seen is a car zooming down the dirt road for the city and an excited gal screaming at the top of her lungs to her favorite music.
Kay is so fascinated by the story she wants to make a difference, by helping pass out foods and supply new goods to Gaza. A quick phone call is made to a local volunteer center. Her name is in the files and she is ready to work. The schoolgirl drives into the city, spotting several designated areas where help is needed. Several kids huddle around the girl as she passes out simple foods. Kelly whips out her camera to remember this moment. She looks around, looking at the worn clothes the children were wearing. The feeling inside her is so warming and loving. At the end of the day, Kelly drives home so happy. The feeling inside is great because even though the children had torn clothing and homemade toys, the smiles that the children had, that were in the black and white photos was all that mattered to Kelly Roberts.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Writing Assignment #5
WRITING ASSIGNMENT #5
Article: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/22/world/middleeast/22mideast.html
It was an early morning with the sun rising in between the worn mountain ridges. The white curtains were pulled to the side letting the sun stream through the window. The slightly tanned girl kicked the white linen covers to the bottom of the bed. Her slippers were off to the right on top of the worn gray wood floor. She reached for her robe off the rusted hook. She opened the wooden squeaky door into a hallway that led into the kitchen. The strawberry blonde reached into the old fashioned fridge for the Florida orange juice. She turned swiftly to the right for the paint chipped cabinets. She reached on the top shelf for a clear glass cup. She brought the cup down to the counter. She held the cup with her left hand as the juice poured like a fast river into the glass. She walked threw the living room to the screen door. The living room had nick knack antiques scattered about, photos of cows and tin photos posted to cork boards. She swung the door open and bent down to get the newspaper. Kelly heard the little boy on his blue bike peddle back down her dusty country road. She wove to him a simple thank you. He tilted his hat down to her.
Kelly kicks the swinging door with her big toe. She reads the headlines slowly “Israel Allows Some Supplies into Gaza”. She scrolls down to read the caption of the picture, “Palestinians waited to buy bread from a baker in the Gaza Strip Monday”. She looked back up to the picture and saw a man with a beard holding a bag putting several pieces of pancake colored bread into it. She then sees on the other side several men of all ages reaching into the bakery. Which consists of a window, almost as if it were a drive though. There are two boys in the window they look as if they could be brothers. The picture is endless in the line of people scattered about. Several men are huddling waiting to catch a moment to be able to slip in the line and place their order.
The young girl is fascinated by the story. She reads the rest of the article, briefly. She chugs the rest of the orange, spilling a few drops onto her lightly cream colored robe. She bolts into the bathroom, turns on the hot water and hops into the shower. She raps a towel around her body and gets dressed. Kelly opens the door, wearing tight jeans with a small whole in her left thigh, a white button down oxford and lets her hair dry naturally into her thick wavy hair. She quickly puts on simple turquoise earrings to match her eyes. The young girl dives into the guest room and pulls out a brown leather bag. She jogs back into her room grabs the basics including two jeans, seven light shirts, three sweatshirts and a simple dress. Then she walks into the living room grabs a pair of sandals, running shoes, and high leather heals and slips those on. She locks the door and darts down the rickety stairs to her right. She uncovers a car; it is an old Jeep Wrangler. She zooms down the dirt road for the city. She turns up the music, a screams at the top of her lungs.
-----Not Finished----
Article: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/22/world/middleeast/22mideast.html
It was an early morning with the sun rising in between the worn mountain ridges. The white curtains were pulled to the side letting the sun stream through the window. The slightly tanned girl kicked the white linen covers to the bottom of the bed. Her slippers were off to the right on top of the worn gray wood floor. She reached for her robe off the rusted hook. She opened the wooden squeaky door into a hallway that led into the kitchen. The strawberry blonde reached into the old fashioned fridge for the Florida orange juice. She turned swiftly to the right for the paint chipped cabinets. She reached on the top shelf for a clear glass cup. She brought the cup down to the counter. She held the cup with her left hand as the juice poured like a fast river into the glass. She walked threw the living room to the screen door. The living room had nick knack antiques scattered about, photos of cows and tin photos posted to cork boards. She swung the door open and bent down to get the newspaper. Kelly heard the little boy on his blue bike peddle back down her dusty country road. She wove to him a simple thank you. He tilted his hat down to her.
Kelly kicks the swinging door with her big toe. She reads the headlines slowly “Israel Allows Some Supplies into Gaza”. She scrolls down to read the caption of the picture, “Palestinians waited to buy bread from a baker in the Gaza Strip Monday”. She looked back up to the picture and saw a man with a beard holding a bag putting several pieces of pancake colored bread into it. She then sees on the other side several men of all ages reaching into the bakery. Which consists of a window, almost as if it were a drive though. There are two boys in the window they look as if they could be brothers. The picture is endless in the line of people scattered about. Several men are huddling waiting to catch a moment to be able to slip in the line and place their order.
The young girl is fascinated by the story. She reads the rest of the article, briefly. She chugs the rest of the orange, spilling a few drops onto her lightly cream colored robe. She bolts into the bathroom, turns on the hot water and hops into the shower. She raps a towel around her body and gets dressed. Kelly opens the door, wearing tight jeans with a small whole in her left thigh, a white button down oxford and lets her hair dry naturally into her thick wavy hair. She quickly puts on simple turquoise earrings to match her eyes. The young girl dives into the guest room and pulls out a brown leather bag. She jogs back into her room grabs the basics including two jeans, seven light shirts, three sweatshirts and a simple dress. Then she walks into the living room grabs a pair of sandals, running shoes, and high leather heals and slips those on. She locks the door and darts down the rickety stairs to her right. She uncovers a car; it is an old Jeep Wrangler. She zooms down the dirt road for the city. She turns up the music, a screams at the top of her lungs.
-----Not Finished----
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