Decmber Writers

Check out our December writers.  You won't be disappointed!  Comments are due Saturday, December 21st.  Also, don't forget to vote!!!!

Trevor

How to “Woo” a Woman

I have lots of experience with women.  One gave birth to me, another is my sister and I have studied enough women here and there to compile a list of 5 sure proof ways to “woo” a women.

1.     Look for various signs and actions that tell you if a woman likes you or is interested in you.

Ex: It’s a general rule of thumb that if a woman brushes a lock of hair out of her face and then slaps her knee twice, she wants to talk to you.  If she sweats a lot, she likes you.

2.     Maintain eye contact.  Even when you blink.

Ex: Challenge her to a staring contest.  Stare the woman you want to “woo” in the face until she starts to awkwardly move away.  Women enjoy it when other people stare at them.  Why else would they wear so much makeup?

3.     Women love it when you try to solve their problems.

Ex: The next time a girl, whether it be your girlfriend or your sister, is unloading their hormonal personal problems onto you and expects you to listen, what they really want is for you to stop listening and to solve whatever is wrong.  Trust me; they’ll thank you for it.

4.     Pickup lines are your best friends.

Ex: “If you were a booger, I would pick you first!” –personal favorite… I wooed Taylor Swift with this one. Then we broke up.

5.     Women love it when you flex your muscles and use every excuse you can to show them your manliness. 

Ex: Sometimes the best outfit to where at school, work, amusement park, museum, etc. is a Speedo.  It properly displays all of the muscles the ladies want to see.  I haven’t personally tried this but it’s supposed to work…in theory.

*Note: I’m not serious, or trying to make you laugh, but these are things that literally flow through my mind on a daily basis.  Just thought I would give you some valuable advice on such an important matter.

Angela

My 20/20 Experience

It all started with just a piece of paper that had a list of concert events throughout the month of September. So my mom’s friend had given me a piece of paper in order for me to see my favorite music artists in concert. When my mom had shown me the list of artists playing at Jimmy Kimmel Live!, from Paul McCartney to Celine Dion to The Lumineers I wasn’t even interested but when she had said that Justin Timberlake will be performing on September 24, I was speechless! My mind was thinking. “Oh my goodness I can finally see one of my favorite music artist sing live in concert!”

After begging my mom and dad every day, two weeks before the event that I really want to go with my friends, they repeatedly said, “No, it’s a school night and we probably be working that night.” I told them that it was okay (sarcastically) because since education is first they did not want me to go out on a school night. That entire week was depressing and my parents definitely noticed me but ignored what I am feeling in such a way which seemed unusual. I have started to feel like I will never accept a once in a life time opportunity like that ever again. Throughout that time I prayed every day they can finally say yes.

Yes! Finally! It’s Tuesday the 24^th of September!

When I woke up that morning, my head began to discombobulate, feeling that it was a Friday but sadly, it didn’t. I literally just ignored my parents for breakfast and just waited to see what they would say whenever I repeatedly said, “cough* cough* so what about tonight mother?” Mother replied with nothing to say but rather, just drank her brewed hot coffee and ate her breakfast continually after I left the kitchen to get ready for school that morning. I deliberately began to wonder why she was doing this but I just said to myself that,” I knew this was coming, I will just cancel my plans tonight.”

I don’t remember what happened in school that day but all I know was that 5 minutes before the bell rang for the school day to be over, my mom randomly texted me saying that she will let me go to the concert! I was shocked and didn’t know what to expect of how last minute she finally said it to me. I told my best friends later that morning that it was cancelled, but now I had to call them right away in order for us to leave for Hollywood.

“Run, run hurry before it starts!” shouted my friend.

We were already there at Hollywood thinking that it won’t be crowded since the entire Boulevard shut down completely because of JT’s amazing performance, but we were most definitely wrong! So we all began, to hurry as much as we can in order to not miss his performance.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Justin Timberlake!” – Jimmy Kimmel

***********************Screaming of fans****************************

When he started singing his first song my heart began to beat faster than normal, my mind was blown to unexpected realness. The fact that we did not have the best standing view we had a great view in seeing him perform.  My three friends and I began to scream and danced to the beat. One of my friends had analyzed one of his songs in a way seemed very accurate. The bad experience was that since I am averaged height and my friends were shorter than me, so many tall people were in our way holding their phones up which made it worse than ever. Throughout the hour and a half of his performance we began to walk closer to the stage as much as possible. His songs for his second album showed the different level he really is becoming in the industry being that over the top hard working renowned artist!

I realized at that moment that after that long day, I should just say thanks to my parents because without them they would have to struggle a lot through life. These type of once-in-a- lifetime opportunities are so random that I am unaware what will happen in the future. I just have to wait patiently and behave properly towards your parents. I just hope that my next concert experience would be even better and also no traffic! Although we didn’t meet him in person, it was the best last minute concert I have ever experience!

Cassey--Nice Guy

She only dates bad boys. Yes, the most attractive men to her are those who live on the edge, on the very cusp of danger, at the brink of exclusion by society’s upstanding citizens. She likes men who smoke, who get into drunken brawls, men who flagrantly disregard traffic laws. She prefers men who drink black coffee, who hate children, men who do not read books. The best candidates of all are the ones who treat her poorly — men who stay at night and leave in the morning, men who never return her calls, who bruise her body, bruise her heart, the ones who never bring flowers. These are her men.

Alexander is a nice guy. He met and fell in love with her at the local grocery store where she works as a cashier. Every week, Alexander goes grocery shopping and waits in line for her register. He speaks sweet words and offers to take her out to dinner. She never accepts. Though she enjoys and looks forward to their grocery store encounters, she could never see herself falling for Alexander. He is clean-shaven and handsome. He dresses well and uses proper grammar. He makes her feel special. He is simply too nice.

Still, Alexander would not be discouraged. After months of flirting and asking, he finally convinced her to go on a date with him. She only agreed in order to prove to him that they would never work out.

On Friday evening, he appeared at her front door with a bouquet of flowers. Then, he drove her to a restaurant in a part of town with no graffiti. She had never tasted food so delicious. They even ordered dessert. She took note of how much cream and sugar Alexander put in his coffee. They ate and laughed and discussed everything from grocery store coupons to the local news.

“Did you hear about the Tiffany’s on Main Street?” She asked.

Alexander smiled. “Yes, I heard someone broke in and looted the place.”

“They say whoever did it is very good. Nothing was ruined, no broken glass. The thief very neatly, almost politely, stole millions of dollars’ worth of jewelry.”

Alexander smiled again. “Fascinating.”

“What’s so funny?” She asked.

“Nothing. Oh, by the way, I wanted to give you this.”

She watched Alexander pull a small rectangular case from inside his coat. He set it on the table in front of her. She did not react at first. No man had ever presented her with such a gift. She felt heat rush to her cheeks. Reeling from shock, she slowly opened the box. It contained the most beautiful bracelet she had ever seen — diamonds the size of teardrops embedded in glittering gold. She did not know what to say.

Then, she read the inside of the box: Tiffany & Co.

Suddenly, she knew. Alexander is not a nice guy after all.

Hannah

A Little Girl’s Christmas

            She woke up a week before Christmas in her hospital bed asking everyone around her why she didn’t look as “pretty” or “healthy” as all of the other little girls she knew. Her mother did not know how to answer that in a way a seven year old would understand, so she simply said,

“Your white and red blood cells are not getting along, but you’re always going to be beautiful and perfect.”

The little girl was able to go home for a week to celebrate the greatest time of the year.  But this year was different.  She did not feel the same Christmas spirit that she did every other year.  Her family tried everything to make her feel better and normal.  Cooking her favorite meals and getting her everything on her Christmas wish list, but nothing seemed to work.  The house was decorated beautifully with lights and angelic features surrounding every inch, adding a positive vibe to their home, but it still did not feel right to the sick little girl. However, she kept a brave face and a smile for her family.

            On the night before Christmas, the little girl knew what was wrong. She told her family how weak she felt and they rushed her to the hospital already knowing what was going to occur on this sad Christmas Eve. They were forced to say their good-byes and the family went home with a piece of their life and love stripped from them.

            It was Christmas morning and the parents and two sisters of the little girl were all together, lost not knowing how to celebrate Christmas and where to put her gifts.  A vision appeared as if it was a dream, but it was impossible to be a dream because all of them had seen the same exact vision. It was her.  She started speaking to her family.  She told them thank you for giving her a happy life and not to mourn for much longer because she isn’t suffering anymore. The family bawled and felt a sudden ease in their pain.  One sister noticed a new Christmas decoration that they have never seen or bought before.  It was a little angel that looked just like the little girl.  The family knew their little angel was with them and it suddenly felt like a normal, merry Christmas again.

Dominick

Happiness/Success

                  Happiness is a confusing subject to me because it can be experienced and interpreted in so many different ways, but when I think about it, what really bothers me is the materialistic value that society has instilled in us as people. For example, have you ever noticed that anything that is considered fun in the world today requires money, and the more money you have the more activities and fun you can experience? We then become people who begin to look to materialistic items to make us happy, and once that happens we fall victim to the process that I like to call the “American Dream” format. Isn’t it funny how if you ask any teenager what they want their life to be like, it all begins to sound the same?  They say they want to grow up, go to college, get a good job that makes a lot of money, have kids, get married, and die happy. They don’t say that they want to grow up and experience true happiness, and explore life to its fullest potential because they are already in the maze of what everyone believes and tells them success is. In this day and age, your success is judged on the amount of money you make correct? I feel that success is something that cannot be determined absolutely and it coexists with happiness, because the more success you have in life the happier you are. Success should be determined on what you believe it is. If there is something that you really enjoy doing and truly makes you happy, you should feel successful for doing it. Don’t worry if others think your ideas or what you like to do isn’t important, lucrative, cool etc.  Do what makes you happy, and in my opinion you will have lived your life to the fullest and it was a success. (The definition of the word happy is “an emotional state of experienced pleasure”). To round up my idea on defining true happiness, I will use this assignment as an example. At the end of the day, my paper will be judged by my peers on how they feel. With that being said, and with the most respect to each reader, I truly feel that whether my work receives many votes or none, I was just happy with getting the chance to talk about my own ideas (right or wrong), and since doing this brought me pleasure, it is a success and I now get to experience what my interpretation of true happiness is. Thank you for reading my abstract idea.

November Results

WOW!!!!  What a month.  I absolutely LOVED reading all of the comments this month.  Finally got to hear from some of you quiet ones:)  Great job, writers and bloggers.  Our favorite read this month is Victoria.  Way to go!!!!  Stay tuned for the December pieces.  You will have some more great reading for the weekend.

Kristine--Vitality

A bird crashes on the sun kissed island, the ocean is long emptied yet sand continues to shift towards land like how when waves ages ago, rushed loose grains back and forth. Every second it reminisces the days when currents flowed in blissful reverie. But distracted by nostalgic sorrow no one immediately mourns the foul sight: black, gradient feathers-strewn across the rocky sand, half-buried in sand, or desperately dressed on the mangled limbs of stunned game. The animal rests on his back-his position displaying disoriented agony. His eyes reflect surprise and utter disappointment as if someone shouted at him in the sky, there would be no more V formations during this trek of winter. Gradually his spirited form escapes his body and he is reborn, invisible, without flight, left as a shade to roam the island.

He waits for the island inhabitants to arrive and have emotional tears over his untimely death.

Three years pass.

Still no grievers.

His physical body is becoming a horrid sight.

 But then the procession comes, languished from having to mourn the sky bird. They had meant to come sooner but were taken back by the sun’s courtship of the island. Thus, when Tropical Wind delivered news of his death occurring on the other side of the island, the islanders would, in the words of the Gloomy Horse, “get to his resting place in less than 5 years”. They got it in three which was great progress to the rest of the islanders.

The bird spirit’s spirit sinks lower when he hears this.

Creatures of all colors and skin textures walk/crawl/slither on the blushing island and fashion a proper mourning line, slowly approaching the bird. Some carry respect in their hearts; others taint theirs with twisted gratification. The waterless ocean-a sea-less sea and the delight of a paramour sun causes death to be mistakenly endeared by the mourners.

A wiggly Worm wiggles out from beneath the sandy sand, worms near the decaying corpse and smirks at his late passing; he was not early enough. A sage Sardine whose scales did not give away age nears the body with great poise to observe the fallen casualty. He immediately recognizes the supernatural presence of the bird but cannot see him, so he begins to converse with empty, humid air. His fellow islanders deem him demented.

It was Tropical Wind that noticed the somber spirit nested on sliced bamboo shoots. A great creature of flight regressed to a burial contradictory in his aerial nature, something the tropical wind took pity of. She had seen the gruesome accident as she was traveling towards the west, on her way to piss off Californian residents.

Tropical Wind decided to lift the spirit’s spirit by sending his spirit on a flight for eternity. The bird roamed the earth through breezes and gusts and whirlwinds, content with his new life

. He was reborn and given the best homage in all his lifetime.

Bianca--Split

Split by Tara Moss features Makedde Vanderwall, a young Canadian model working her way to earning a degree in forensic psychology. Instead of entering with a warm welcome, she wakes up in the middle of the night with reoccurring, horrific nightmares, and is soon greeted with fear of a killer that targets female students on campus. With the assistance of an ex-boyfriend who had previously saved her life before, detective Andy Flynn is determined to find the killer, but most importantly, to save Makedde who is instant prey. He remains in Vancouver, Canada to attend a convention on psychopaths but as soon as he and his mentor land, they are asked by local police to help, and is more than obliged into the case unfolding at the university. Makedde makes it clear to him that she is moving forward with her life by finding a new romance and doesn’t want to repeat the past. In an attempt to avoid him, she ignores his warnings and soon finds herself back in danger. Andy is still infatuated with Makedde, but somehow their relationship just does not progress until something else happens and they both return to their respective designations.

The theme of the importance of conquering fear for survival is visibly displayed throughout the novel. Makedde learns the hard way that ignorance and too much pride doesn’t solve anything, but results in catastrophe. By rejecting Andy Flynn, she unknowingly puts her life at risk and makes herself accessible to the killer. Her new boyfriend Roy Blake works as a campus security officer but cannot always be there to protect her. Makedde struggles to balance her school life with her modeling job, along with making it home safely. The end of the novel consists of an unexpected twist that introduces the next theme that Moss establishes which is to always stay alert. The usual saying of “keep your friends close and your enemies closer” does not pertain to this novel when you don’t know who the enemy is. In this case, Makedde must know the true identity of the people around her.

Moss uses a strong sense of imagery to leave the reader in bewilderment and a fast pulse. Normally, I don’t read thrillers because of their predictability (or perhaps I haven’t picked up a great thriller), but the curiosity as to what happens next is almost excruciating. Losing her mother in her teen years, Moss had experienced a strenuous time gap. She puts forth these emotions of losing a loved one in her work to create what I believe is phenomenal. Makedde’s nightmares are extremely vivid and depict the strong emotion Moss may have felt to make the reader feel mutual connection. Such diction makes the reader feel frustrated, content, perplexed and astonished in that order. Split is the second novel in the Vanderwall series but can still be read without reading the first book. However, if you do not prefer reading novels that cannot be critically analyzed chapter by chapter, this may not be your read, but I would still recommend it to anyone who seeks a rapidly fluctuating thrill.