It was a warm summer day; about two weeks after my senior year had begun. My friends and I were having a typical Sunday, lounging around, tired from the night before, and trying to find fun ways to pass the time.
We started by playing some Xbox, and while shooting each other and other people was fun, it soon grew tiresome and we were again, back to where we started. About twenty minutes after another sleepy silence, we went outside to the beautiful weather and played some football. Although it was nice to be outside enjoying the weather, not one of us had the energy to run around for any longer than ten minutes.
Frustrated with the way the day was going, we decided to go inside, get some refreshments, and brainstorm to try to find something that would hold our attention for longer than half an hour. During the middle of our brainstorming session, a family friend of the Locke’s came over. He and his kids had just caught some soft-shelled turtles out at his family’s rock quarry. Intrigued, we decided to make a trip out there in attempt to find some turtles of our own. So five of us piled into the 1980’s rusty jeep with no doors and no roof and drove a few miles to the rock quarry.
I myself was not as interested in the turtles as my friends, so I decided to learn to drive a stick shift while my friends were hunting for turtles. After stalling about three times in a row, I finally got the old jeep going and was driving around the empty field, happy as a little kid on Christmas. After about ten minutes of driving in circles, and ten minutes of finding no turtles, we decided to head back to the house for dinner.
Upon our request from the day before, Mrs. Locke had prepared us some freshly cut mountain oysters…yummy. After I got ...
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...ese crazy girls and their sticky food as possible. After taking some battle wounds, we stole some of their “ammo” and got them back, twice as bad and messy as they got us.
After calling a truce, we went back to their backyard and took a few group pictures so we could get the aftermath on film. As we were taking pictures, one of the volleyball moms said she got most of the food fight on video. After we cleaned ourselves up, we eagerly awaited the premier of our video to the Facebook world.
We waited about four hours until we heard the devastating news that she was having problems and couldn’t get the video loaded. But she promised to have it up the following night. She came through on her promise and we all watched the video as a group reliving the fight and having almost as much fun as we did the night before. What an excellent way to end an excellent weekend.
During the time we learn about the turtle, it faces several hardships. First, the turtle attempts to cross the road, “Pushing hind legs strained and slipped, boosting the shell along, and the horny head protruded as far as the neck could stretch,” (Steinbeck, 21). Second, the turtle has to tr...
The first notable example of the turtle’s obstacles is shown in a simile. Ryan portrays the turtle’s movement as “graceless, like dragging/ a packing-case places” (5-6). When one is struggling to move a heavy package, one usually starts to push or pull it slowly; one is using all his strength to move it, yet the package barely moves. The lethargic movement of moving the package is similar to the slowness of the turtle. This slowness is an obstacle because it prevents the turtle from travelling far distances and escaping from predators. Nevertheless, the fact that the turtle perseveres through this struggle shows that she is
...ns we had plenty of time to talk about things, but I also had time to sit and think about things for myself in the calm outdoors. That first day of hunting proved to me that hunting is one of the most fun and enjoyable things to do, along with an emotional experience, as long as it is done safety.
It was a warm summer night, and I had just returned from my summer school
Christmas eve ended with me crying on our living room floor because my mom wanted me to eat just one of her famous sugar cookies. Her cookies had always been one of my favorite Christmas traditions, but this year when I looked at the cookies, all I could see were calories and guilt. They smelled and looked delicious, but just the thought of taking one bite filled me with anxiety and fear. I consider this the moment I realized my eating disorder had completely taken over my life. I had become obsessed with calories and weight as a way to feel in control of my life and gain confidence. In reality, my eating disorder had slowly stripped me of my independence, health, and happiness. After that Christmas, I finally decided to seek help after months of struggling, and at the age of 17, I began an intensive outpatient treatment program.
I am from Friday nights, spent in a large backyard chasing lightening bugs only to be depressed on Saturday mornings to find they had escaped from the Mason jar I had trapped them in. I am from Mac and Cheese with cut up hotdogs, and realizing that it is the most disgusting thing in the world as I got older. I am from running down the basement steps after my shower to watch episodes of F.R.I.E.N.D.S, and Will and Grace on Thursdays nights with my mom, even though I was far too young to understand any of the jokes. I am from a dog named Max, who set unrealistic standards for what every first pet should be. I am from a spoiled cat named Bing Clawsby. I am from a father who taught me 90’s rap and a mother who doesn’t know how to cook. I am from
When my sister neglected to charge her MP3 player, she unknowingly evoked a drastic change in my life. Car rides to the distant land of Toronto were difficult enough, but without music playing softly in our ears, the one hour drive soon becomes a one hour torture session. But that fateful day, when on route to a wedding, I decided that conversation was perhaps the best substitute in situations such as these. The consequence of this decision came soon and swift when upon complaining of our lack of breakfast variety, my parents suggested we stop by a grocery store. However reasonable this suggestion was, I swear my heart skipped a beat. Or two. Possibly.
It was Saturday night, the last non-school night of our four day break, and we decided to go all out. We were playing beer pong, flip cup, quarters, kings, bonging beers, doing keg stands, sh...
”So now a turtle brain no longer consists of only going left and right and being crushed by a plumber, it needs to flee progressing fire, move away from an incoming vehicle, transition from ground to water navigable areas, walk, hide, swim, and care about predators like sharks.”
Moreover, another aspect of the diet I tried was not eating overnight food, which was a difficult task for me because storing overnight food is a compulsive tendency of mine. Nevertheless, I surprisingly did not store any overnight food during the five days; I honestly thought I would not be able to do it, so that was interesting. It was interesting because at first, I did not see storing food overnight as a bad thing, as I would be putting it away to eat it the next day, and therefore not wasting it. However, in terms of this diet, storing overnight food is prohibited because overnight food “possesses a higher concentration of micro-organisms (for example, bacteria yeast etc.) as compared to food prepared and consumed the same day” (“Jain
I have lived in my neighborhood for almost eight years. Never have I thought about the amount of trash that filled every corner of the dirt road leading down to my house until recently when one of the trash debris slapped me right in the face—literally. What’s more surprising is that there were kids playing alongside these molded cheeseburgers and rotten newspapers.
Many people are faced with great obstacles in their lives but have found ways to conquer and benefit from them. I struggled with obesity for many years. It has been one of the most difficult life challenges which helped mode the person I am today.
The White Turtle features a storyteller nicknamed Lola Basyon from the Filipino town of Iraya. Her story of a white turtle presented at a literary festival in Australia is a story to be experienced. However, only in opening oneself to the reality of other cultures and to possibility can one do this, when one is not stifled and blinded by one’s own reality.
Everyone has had at least one not so good baking or cooking experience. Even the best chefs and bakers in the world have had not so good experiences when working. Mine happened at the begging of the summer of my last year of high school. In Washington State you are required to do a senior project. I wanted to do mine on baking, I wanted to become a pastry chef so I decided to do mine on cupcake decorating. I was really excited to do it but was nervous because I haven’t done very much baking so I wasn’t sure if I would even want to become a pastry chef by the time I was done doing my senior project.
It was about 1:30 AM. "Well, its time to hit the sack," I thought. I had had a really long day. I had been in school since 8 AM and I was truly exhausted.