Blogg Reviews

Blake,

Reading through all of your posts I feel like I almost know you! You seem very passionate about your family, friends and girlfriend. You are a great storyteller. You are so descriptive in your post and you seem to leave no detail behind. One of the things that I also noticed was that you have a natural way of implementing dialogue into your stories which makes your stories all the more relatable.

I really enjoyed reading your first blog post, “Fate”. It was there that I first noticed your skills of a great storyteller, I don’t know how you manage to remember that great amount of detail. I remember trying to think of a sensational story to write about fate but you left it simple and it turned out t be a great piece. One of my favorite posts of yours was the one about your guitars. By the way you write about them, it tells me how passionate you are about music. I love the way you personified them. I also liked this story because I saw a different side to your writing that I hadn’t seen in your other posts. One of the other posts that I really enjoyed was the one titled “French Braid”. I liked how you had the instinct to write through different perspectives. I also found it interesting when you write what you thought about yourself through someone else’s perspective.

Some things that I would look out for are grammar and spelling errors. You would think that they wouldn’t be as significant as the actual content of the essay but you don’t want readers to be stumbling over words and having to reread a section for clarity.
All in all, you did an excellent job with all of your posts, all were really entertaining.

Ali,
I
n almost every post you had me laughing out loud. The side comical remarks that you write make the posts all the more entertaining to read. You are so frank which added to the hilarious touch to your posts. You are a really great writer; you seem to always keep your reader in mind while writing such entertaining stories.

“The Real Happy Meal” was one of my favorite posts of yours. You seem to admire your brother very much and I liked how you portrayed this with that simple scene on your ride from school. The story is very sweet and innocent and again you didn’t let me down with your comical remarks. Would it be wrong of me to say that “Stopped Short” was another favorite of mine? I loved the way that you repeated that last line throughout the three stories; it really tied them up nicely. So early in the semester and you were already writing collage type essays! I also liked the “Untold Stories” post; it revealed a more vulnerable side to you but you kept a calm attitude through it (much like your brother’s) that made the subject matter easier to write about.

I would also look out for grammar and spelling errors within your posts. I also noticed that some of your posts did not have that strong of an ending, things were sort of still left up in the air. But I have to say that I really enjoyed reading your posts, keep up the great work!

Organic Chemistry for Dummies

Organic chemistry: The wonderful world of carbon compounds.

Q: Why is Carbon the perfect candidate for organic compounds?
A: Because it shares electrons with other carbon atoms to form long and stable bonds.

Double bonds are stronger than single bonds.

The more carbons that branch off, the more stable the molecule is.

Single bonds are better able to rotate and move maximally in space than double bonds.

A special method known as infrared spectroscopy (IR) measures the bond vibration frequencies in a molecule, and is used to determine the functional group(s) in such a molecule. In determining functional groups, an unknown match can be identified.

Why can’t everything be as easy as Organic Chemistry?


P.S. If this all wasn’t very clear to you, ask my OChem teacher! Good Luck!

Traditions

The sun beamed down at everything in sight. My skin was hot and clammy from the torturous weather and I could begin to see the outline of my flip flop strands imprinted on my feet. This reminding of the time I got sunburned while watching a traditional Native American ritual performed in the Easter season. I accompanied my longtime friend that which has now become a tradition.

Tradition. I come from a school that was big on tradition. A rivalry that continued for as far as one could remember. Antiques still existed on campus from when the school first got started. Seniors getting preference for everything, lunch and early release being the two of utmost importance.

Tamales, burritos, Indian fried bread are appetizing meals after the Lenten season. I gave up meat last year and after so long a deprivation I could not help but devour my food. Meanwhile, I enjoy the sounds of the rattling instruments coming from the Fariseos (Pharisees).

The bell reported the most important moments of the day: class is over, lunch begins, and school is over. Time did not seem to work in my favor. The more I stared at the clock, the longer it took...

Lesson learned?

Things took a turn for the worst. I was being chased by a vicious dog that wanted the taste of little girl. I ran with all my might but my tricycle held me back. The man had warned us that if we kept crossing his pathway sooner or later he would not be around when his dog would attack. The day came sooner than later, I screamed at the top of my lungs all the way back to the apartment. I crashed into the wall while the dog was chased off by my uncle. I have no further recollection thereafter.

My teacher had just finished explaining how the sun’s rays were not good for the eyes, when I found myself not able to take my eyes off of it. The teacher warned us not to stare directly at the sun but what I heard was, “Kids stare at the sun for as long as you can.” I saw splashes of yellow as well as orange and then red. Nothing thereafter.

My dad warned me that I hadn’t had enough practice with the car. I didn’t care, there was nothing to it. If the constant nagging wasn’t enough the following definitely opened up my eyes. Driving along the bigger streets was a bit shaky but I pulled it off. It was when I pulled into the driveway that the fence wasn’t so lucky. Thereafter, I wasn't so lucky either.

Another Day

Last night I became very frightened.
I barely had any sleep the night before.
I don’t remember the night completely.
I woke up at dawn in a panic.
I still had much to study for my Bio Exam.
Another disappointment.

I replenished my physical needs with a bagel.
I went to the chapel to replenish my spiritual needs.
I couldn’t focus. Thoughts ran through my head.
What is the agenda for the rest of the day?

Another class. Focus.
After class, off to study.
After study, review session.
After review session, home.
At home more studying.

I lay in bed. My eyes were so tired but I knew I had much to think about. The rotating blades of the fan melodiously rocked me to bed. The inviting, fluffy comforter tucked me in snuggishly. The setting was perfect for a good night’s rest. But my mind was not. Finally, it gave up. Another day.

Lyric Essays

The last essays that were read during this unit I found very interesting.

I especially enjoyed reading The Death of the Moth by Virginia Woolf. I thought it was amazing how Woolf could expand her writing so much about a very small event in time. Who hasn’t seen an insect die an agonizing death at their windowsill? Throughout the reading I just wanted to tell the narrator to free that moth of its burden. I guess she did not do so due to the same reason I didn’t release the creature of its misery, reason being that I didn’t find the creature significant enough to save. I liked her indirect way of speaking about life and death through the subject of the death of the moth. She implies rather than states what it is that she is feeling/thinking through this particular scene. Because I am not that great at expressing my feelings I think that this type of writing is one that I could get away with.

Another essay that I enjoyed reading was Three Voices by Bhanu Kapil Rider. I love the way that she has written this piece, in the collage format that was mentioned in our readings. I would like to achieve this type of writing, being able to compose something that may not make sense to anyone else but makes perfect sense to me. And maybe that’s what really drew me into this piece of writing, trying to understand the point of it all. This format I would like to take into some of my own writing, I tend to follow that standard essay format and don’t allow room for creativity.

Peace ------>>

The wind embraced me as we walked over to the playground. I was away from home but I felt closer than ever. I felt like I was flying. While the rest of my classmates ran around the sand pit, went up the slide in reverse direction, I took in the moment and took a deep breath. I felt peace.

*

Again I felt myself zoning out and yet I was so focused. The air was salty. The breeze cleansed my soul. The smooth sand caressed my feet. I was alone but very much accompanied. Though the water brushed painstakingly past my legs I no longer felt it after a while. I was immersed in love with the beauty of nature.

**

Where did it all go? My mind races but nothing is accomplished. I no longer have that tranquility.


***

A Walk Down Cellular Lane

In high school, I had no other means of technology related communication besides my house phone. My parents did not think that it was necessary for me to have a cell phone and I really did not care for one anyways. I did not have a real need for it, all I basically did was go from home to school and back and if I did have a need for it there was always somebody else with a cell phone. But my friends thought that it was weird that I didn’t have a cell phone. I recall a picture that my friends and I took at a football game; the pose was pretend to be talking on your cell phone and there I was smiling happily using my hand as a cell phone.

Nowadays, my phone is always on me. Yesterday in particular, though, I was rushing out the door, and I forgot my phone at home. I always somehow manage to remember to get my phone off my bed, but today I picked it up from my cozy bed and placed it on my keyboard… mistake. It didn’t take me long to realize that I had left my phone behind. I don’t even use it that much but I could tell how much I am attached to it. Throughout the entire day I had no idea what time it was, clocks now seem to be nonexistant. Finally, I arrived at home, 9 messages awaited me.

I use my cell phone as an alarm clock. I set it every night according to my schedule for the next day. I have set it to ring the most annoying sound that it could possibly make to wake me in the morning. I think I may be traumatized with that alarm clock sound. I hate it so much that it forces me to wake up and turn the racket off. But if I were to have it any other way I would probably just snooze right through it.

Short-lived

Though this assignment seemed simple I soon realized that it would be more difficult than I thought as I made several attempts at looking out a window in various locations. I first attempted to look out the hospital window where I volunteer but I kept getting interrupted, go figure! Then, I again attempted to complete the assignment while looking out the light rail window but the smooth motions of it kept putting me to sleep. Finally, I was able to concentrate at Noble library… well sort of.

The days have been absolutely beautiful lately. It is neither scorching hot nor cold enough that a sweater is necessary. The weather is perfect and can be felt even as I stare out the cobweb infested window. Students have shorts and tank tops on as well as stylish sunglasses on. I see a cute summer dress that I want.

I continue to stare out the window and realize that I had never seen so many bike racks before and wonder whether they have just been installed. I’m pretty sure that they haven’t because I would have seen more activity in that area as I pass by this area at least every other day. My attention is then drawn to a guy that is riding his bike with no hands and am impressed and wish I could be as talented. This ambition is short-lived though when I see another student whizzing by with a yellow bike similar to one that I own. This bike now sits in our garage collecting dust; the frame is crooked as a result of an accident that I had with it. I crashed into a stationary car.

Out of the corner of my eye I detect a back and forth motion. I direct my attention to this moving object. The student is walking from side to side while on his cell phone. He then hops on top of an elevated brick wall and begins to use it as a tightrope. When I am finally relaxed and enjoying the balancing act I realize that I am much too comfortable and that I need to be worrying about the assignments that I have due tonight and the practical I have yet to prepare for. I begin to panic a little. I pull out my laptop, another short-lived moment.

Dining Experience: Past & Present

As I opened up the door to the entrance of the Taylor place dining hall, I caught my reflection in the transparent door. A slender girl with more arms and legs than body stared back at me. My hair pulled back and held together with a headband, because there was no time this morning to actually put any thought or effort into a decent hairstyle. I was joined by a few others from work who wanted to dine in an inexpensive way and at the same time still eat as much as one possibly could take, thus the buffet menu was the perfect choice for us.

The dining area is very chic, the dangling string separators, the neon chairs and the accompanied pop music invite the college vibe into the place. Although classier than my elementary school cafeteria, consisting of a bunch of hyperactive kids sustained by rows of long tables, I can’t help but reminisce back to those times. The only big difference is that this place actually serves soft drinks and French vanilla cappuccino. The only drink that was allowed on school premises was that of 2% milk or my favorite, chocolate milk. I invite my coworkers to reflect along with me, but not all were in agreement of having missed such dining experiences.

Before long I realize that I only have a half hour break and rush to stuff as much food in my mouth as I could handle. Not too much different from what was experienced in the cafeteria/auditorium of my grade school, but instead of scrambling to be released into the great outdoors of the playground I am forced to enter into a confined space with only a computer screen to stare at. The drive for the rest of day is the to go M&M cookies I snuck off with.

Eventually Took Its Toll

We would use it as a way to create castles. It was a favorite past time. I would crawl around with my brothers through the maze. Squeezing in between the crevices messing my hair up more than it already was. Then, the very next day my friends and I would sit on it as I would throw my voice trying to personify my Scuba Diving Barbie. Years later, after dinner it was used to have the food settle and to pass time with my mom which consisted of me venting my little Junior High problems. Those that seemed to be the end of the world type, but somehow I managed to live on the next day. In high school I began taking an interest in soccer. I tried out for the team. In my excitement to improve, I used it as the other “person” to kick it to. The wear and tear that it endured over the years eventually required that it be reupholstered.

The couch has remained with the family for quite a while. It has traveled across the state of Texas as well as Arizona. Now the couch is left forlorn. Everyone is too busy to sit on it. There are no longer indentations on its surface. I pass by it everyday not even acknowledging its presence. It usually holds my back pack and purse as I hungrily make my way to the kitchen. Once satisfied thereafter I remove my items and proceed to my bedroom. Sadly, it no longer serves the purpose of uniting the family together.

The American Essays

One of the articles that I recall, that really drew in my attention was, “The American Man at Age 10,” by Susan Orlean. First of all, Orlean throws us into the story from the very beginning blindsided. She just starts rambling on about a character that wasn’t “formally” introduced, but I think that’s what intrigued me the most. I think she did an excellent job in her introduction and how she connected her own personality to that of the character she is portraying.

Her writing is so playful that I can sense the inner child within her. She portrays the boy’s traits amazingly; she doesn’t simply tell us about his great traits, but actually shows us through his different actions and thoughts. I really enjoyed her piece and I hope to learn from her writing and apply it to my own writing. I tend to list traits rather than prove to the reader that this is how it is, as shown by different actions.

The other essay that I also enjoyed reading was, “Afternoon of an American Boy,” by E.B. White. I easily read through this essay as it was very comical and relatable. At least on my part I can relate to this awkward little boy when it came to the opposite sex. I found it very entertaining. And I don’t think he had too much trouble trying to add humor into it. He just had to create this relatable character in which one could imagine oneself in the situation and laugh it off. I think I can improve my writing by doing the same, sometimes I’m very cautious about what I write about. I need to realize, though, that someone could also share in the same feelings about a certain piece making it all the better for him/her.

Spoiled

It was not until I was old enough to travel that my mom was brave enough to show off her first child to her family in Mexico City. My mom had not seen either her family or her homeland for two years. It would only be mom and myself traveling while dad stayed home working.

I was my grandparent’s first grandchild and so you could imagine how spoiled I was. Spoiled not so much in the sense of materialistic things but rather with a lot of love and affectionate hugs and kisses. My youngest of uncles was the one that really took care of me during that trip. He is two years my senior and he was so intrigued with someone who could possibly be smaller than him. I would run out of the house and he would be the first one chasing after me “carrying” me back into the house. Little did he know that he was actually hurting me more than he was actually helping, but I guess I didn’t mind too much, after all I loved the attention.

During our stay there the family went to visit Chapultepec Park in the heart of the city. The several buses and subway that were taken to get there were all worth it at the end. Trapped in a claustrophobic position in the subway had to be the worst part of it though. I extended my arms out pushing against the other mommies; they were hogging my breathing space. Eventually, we made it to the park and I wanted to grab at everything that the salespeople wanted to hand at me. Balloons of all colors, the zoo of stuffed animals and the entire cool lighted up toy collection, I wanted them all. And of course when I didn’t have my way I threw the biggest tantrum imaginable. That vacation was the last time that I would be the center of attention. Soon thereafter Jon would arrive. Good, I needed to grow out of that spoiled brat phase.

The Human Experience

A couple weeks back my brother had commented to my youngest brother and me that he was going to go to Herberger Theater to watch a pre-screening with his entire school. We youtube’d the film wanting to learn a bit more of what he was going to be in for and watched the trailer for it. It really drew in my attention as it did my brother’s, and so I decided to take my youngest brother to go and watch it.

The film is called, The Human Experience and is a story narrated by a young man trying to make sense of the world. To try and accomplish this big task, himself and some of his friends from the shelter that they grew up in, would travel the world to find the answers to such questions. Their first experience was lived out in the streets of New York living as a homeless person would, second experience in an orphanage in Peru, and third experience in the leper colonies of Ghana. The narrator’s voice played in the background as they went to these different places trying to seek the answers to the world’s toughest questions. I really enjoyed watching it, the film revolved around these three settings as the characters within the film would comment on their own experiences about it. The story overall was very touching, the people that they interviewed and spent time with gave them great insight into the meaning of life. The children, the homeless and the lepers taught them great lessons even without any actual communication going on. Their joy brought a knot in my throat because even through all the hardship that they had faced, they were smiling and happy to have them as company.

At the end of the screening, two of the screenplay writers, as well as two of the characters in the film, took the time to answer some questions afterwards about the film. They both grew up in a Catholic shelter and wanted to create a movie that never said the word Jesus in it but still created that prolife message that they were after. The film was fantastic, I thought because they had accomplished just that, they portrayed how life is precious no matter what someone’s situations is. The travelers learned much about life in producing the film and they did a great job in inviting the audience to tag along on the ride and also experience what they were feeling. As in creative nonfiction the film was produced in such a way that it made it relatable to its audience.

Rumors

This morning was like any other morning. I physically got out of bed after about 4 times of pressing the snooze button, washed my face, and then hopped right back into bed. Three weeks into the spring semester and I still cannot get into the habit of waking up early. After figuring that I had exactly 20 minutes to be at work was when I actually started to get ready. I time it so that I get to any event either just in time or maybe a few minutes late (It’s such a bad habit!). And this supposedly was my new year’s resolution and I have yet to arrive to any event earlier than what it is scheduled to be. Obviously, it hasn’t worked out for me at all.

In any case I arrived to work at 8:03 a.m., falling 4 minutes short of the grace period, 4 good minutes that I could have used for sleeping! But this morning I realized that a friend of mine was working the same shift. I am a student worker at the Downtown Phoenix IT helpdesk located in the library and you could imagine just how dull it can get in the morning, so I was very glad to see her. So to keep each other awake we of course started to chismiar as we call it in Spanish, or in other words gossip. She began to tell me that one of the staff’s birthday had just been this past Saturday and told me how old he had turned.
I replied back, “Wow! He must have had his daughter really young!”
She became more interested and said, “What! He has a kid? I didn’t know that!”
I began to explain to her that one day he had brought his wife and daughter to work. This conversation ended at that and we each carried on with our daily tasks.
A few minutes later I receive my first call of the day and I answer, “Helpdesk, Diana speaking, how may I help you?”
The guy at the other end answered, “Yea hi Diana, so I hear you’re spreading rumors about me.”
I quickly think oops, what did I do this time. And he went on to say, “Elizabeth tells me that you think I have a daughter.”
I automatically think uh oh then who was that lady I saw him with, I didn’t want to say more because already I had said and assumed too much but still continued.
“Yea, didn’t you bring your wife and daughter by the other day?”
He pauses for a while, “Uhh that was my sister and my friend”.
I thought to myself aw man not only did I just make him feel awkward by assuming that his sister was his wife but I also insulted him by thinking he could have a daughter that old. I felt my face grow hot. We both started cracking up but apparently there were no hard feelings as he even gave me a piece of his birthday cake after that whole misunderstanding :).

Touchy Matters

As I had mentioned before I am not very good at opening up but I do want to practice it so it can become easier for me … here it goes.

Broken Family Part 1

I had almost forgotten about this memory and just for that same reason that I didn’t want to awaken it from the very depths. My parents are not the happiest married couple in the world. Sometimes I ask myself how those two can possibly stand each other, they are so different. They argued a lot and still argue a lot. But there was this one time, about 10 years back, where they had the biggest fight that almost tore the family apart. I don’t remember what it was about or I choose not to remember but my mom had enough of it.

My dad had gone off to work that day, and my mom was getting all of our stuff ready so that we could take off before my dad even realized we were gone. We gathered up our clothing in garbage bags as we cried to mami that we didn’t want to go. I think we even deliberately took our time so that dad would come home and stop us. It wasn’t that we didn’t want to go with my mom but it was more of the reason that we didn’t want to get split up. Alas, our dad came home the jig was up. Dad would not let us go. I don’t recall the specifics of that night probably because my sight was blurred from my tears and my hearing was distorted from my little brother’s wailings and probably even some of my own. But I do remember at the end my mom and dad were hugging and we were to remain a family.

Broken Family Part 2

The good old days, those would have to have been when my brothers and I were younger (well at least pertaining to family matters). When we were growing up we lived in a small apartment with a bunch of family living in it but nonetheless we were happy. We had parties where piñatas were broken, candy was eaten and where faces were smooshed into birthday cakes. Those were the good old days. We were all one big happy family consisting of parents, brothers, uncles, aunts, cousins, and grandparents.

Now it’s just basically my mom, my dad, my brothers and I. Where did it all go wrong? Who knows, I don’t think anybody knows but I just know that it’s not the same. Nobody seems to be speaking with my dad and my dad is speaking to nobody from my mom’s side of the family. I have a grandma and uncles living here in Phoenix and I visit them every once in a while but it gets kind of awkward when we leave my dad out while we spend time with our ‘other’ family. Even in past holidays we have left my dad out to visit them because of the family’s stubbornness. It makes me sad. The family never talks about it; it’s kept hidden as if nothing is the matter. There are occasions when the little cousins ask about the location of my dad and we just kind of make an excuse up for him so that no other questions are to be asked. But other than that we keep our hearts quiet. One night I gathered up the guts to bring this up to papi, I tried hard to fight back the tears. My brothers were also in the room and I didn’t want them to see me but I couldn’t help it the tears just started flowing. My throat was hurting from holding in my emotions too long. Nothing was answered that night and still remains as is.

Feeling Lost

Lately I have been feeling empty inside. Nothing seems to fulfill me. Not the activities that I do, not my friends, not even my own family. It’s a feeling that I do not want to have but can’t help feeling. I have realized that I always need to have music playing, as if not to feel alone so that I do not have to listen to myself. I listen to Christian music and that relaxes me a lot, helps me to think positively. But meanwhile when I don’t have music to create that serenity or any other distractions I am gasping for air (literally). It feels as though the air that I breathe is insufficient, feels as though something more refreshing is needed, more powerful.

I have failed to mention this to anybody, going back to the reason that it’s difficult for me to share my feelings. One of the reasons this is so, is because most of the times I don’t even understand myself, so how could explain this to somebody else? The other reason is that I don’t want anyone to worry. I would rather be the one consoling not the one to be consoled. In trying to fill this emptiness, I am trying to be more involved in the community and trying to get closer to God. It’s a work in progress though, I am learning many things and I hope that I can apply them to my life but it’s definitely going to take much effort on my part.

Spending Time with Papi

I knew I wanted to write about my dad when the assignment was described and so I was searching for the reasons on why I look up to my dad so much. He has done so much for us and I realize this now that I am older but I thought to myself “how did I know this at such a young age?” As far as I can remember my dad has always been a hardworking individual and I remember when I was younger he would always be so busy with work that we didn’t exactly see him as often as we would have wanted to. I feel like I am kind of excluding my mom here but don’t get me wrong I love my mom very much as well but there is something about that distancing that drew me closer to him. They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder and in my case I can absolutely agree with this statement. Because my dad was always booked with work during the week, the weekend was the time in which we came together as a family to spend quality time together.

I remember a specific scene in my childhood that I will never forget and that I always seem to talk about when I reminisce on the good old times. On Saturday mornings my dad would get up extra early and buy some delicious homemade tamales from the lady that would sell them in her little puestesito across the street from our apartment complex. He would bring them home with all of us eagerly waiting to munch into the warm goodness. And what would make it even 100 times the better was the soothing pitter patter of the light shower outside and our home filled with the dewy smell of the rain. If you could only smell that aroma! It is one of my fondest memories of scent. The tamales would be passed around the table once, twice, three times until none remained. The windows fogged up as steam overflowed from my chocolate caliente. I don’t even recall what we spoke of but only that there was complete peace and joy in that place. Yes, the tamales, chocolate and rain made the setting perfect but without my dad there that bliss that we had around the table would have been nonexistent. We all rejoiced in taking time to appreciate that our dad was home.

Fate

It had been about six years since my brothers and I hadn’t seen our aunts or cousins. We were all very excited to visit them in Indiana. We were expecting very cold weather, you know snowstorms and of the like, and so packed very warm for the trip. As we picked up our luggage in the overcrowded room, I searched around the room looking for my aunt. I could not find her if my life depended on it, she said she would be waiting in front of the gift shop but was nowhere to be found. I decided to give her a call and as the phone was ringing I saw a small lady with a little boy attached to her hand pick up her phone, I couldn’t believe it she was right in front of me the whole time but I just didn’t recognize her. I rushed over and gave her a huge hug as I towered over her and the little boy and hadn’t remembered being that much taller than her. It was so great being able to see her again, she was one of my favorite aunts growing up, I would follow her everywhere and cry every time she left the room (well this is what they told me, I was too young to recall). I looked down at the little boy and asked him his name, he answered shyly, “Luuis.” I asked him if he knew who I was, he paused and then replied, “My sister.” We all laughed, I guess he didn’t fully understand that we are cousins and just knew that we are related in some way. As we spent more time with them I realized that there was something different. My aunt just seemed a lot happier. During our stay there she would always be singing praises to the Lord, at the dinner table, in the car rides, pretty much anywhere. At first I thought it was pretty weird. I hadn’t seen her like this before but after a while I wanted to have this same passion, I wanted to share in this happiness that she had. After coming back home I wanted things to change, I began to get more involved at church and am starting to understand that joyfulness that my aunt has.

About Me

Hi!
I’m a pre-med/nursing student seeking to become a better writer. Ever since graduating high school I thought I could get away with not taking another writing class. So thus far I have been avoiding English classes but I have learned that this cannot happen. I really do want to improve my writing skills but I also think that this class will allow me to open up more for I am a very reserved person. I am not very good at sharing my feelings and thoughts and I hope that this will not be the case by the end of this course.
I was born in Van Nuys, California and moved to Arizona when I was around 6 years old so I do not have much memory of it. For the most part I do like Az, no earthquakes and the weather has been exceptionally nice recently. During the winter break while there was really not much to do I have been trying to learn how to play the dusty keyboard that I own through youtube videos. Spirituality has become a big part of my life, my family and I attend mass every Sunday. I am trying to get more involved in the community and am in the process of becoming a Eucharistic minister at Good Samaritan Hospital. Well, I hope that you all can kind of get an idea of the kind of a person that I am through this blog, I am open to any suggestions that you may have for me and hope that we all have a great semester!:)