In this final blog post, I will be composing a reflection about my experiences in this class. On the last day of class, Professor Mangini asked us to write a list of 10 things that we accomplished throughout the semester that we were proud of. Below you will see a picture of my list. I will elaborate on some of my accomplishments as well. Taking Eng 100 & Eng 112 with Professor Mangini has been the most beneficial part of my college career. Eng 112 was not even a course that was necessary for my degree, however I took it because of how much I learned last semester and how much I grew as a writer. I enjoyed these courses more than I thought was possible.
To think about the fact that I composed 20,000 words in only two semesters, is absolutely insane. It makes me feel very accomplished. It is amazing to look back on my work and see how much I have grown as a writer in the past year. I know I will always have this website to reflect on throughout the rest of my college experience and that is very important to me. I will use what I learned in this class for the rest of my life. When I saw that we had to make a vlog instead of a blog, I got very nervous. I just figured it would be very awkward and difficult to speak to a computer screen for 2 minutes straight. However, I am glad I had this experience. I planned out my vlog in writing beforehand, and once I began speaking it was a lot easier than I thought it was going to be. I actually thought it was easier than sitting down and writing out all your thoughts. The narrative that I composed about my mother's accident, was an emotional experience. I never would have thought that I would revisit that time in my life again. I keep it locked up in the back of my mind, so to go back to that time in my life mentally, was difficult. Even though it was difficult, I still actually enjoyed writing about it in the end. I think it gave me some peace to put those thoughts into words and reflect on it. The counterfactual part of the second draft, was what made it even more difficult. That was probably my least favorite part of the semester, just because it was surreal to think and write about something that didn't even happen. I successfully completed it though so that's all that matters. Overall, I am incredibly happy with the end product in this class. I truly believe my writerly identity has grown substantially this year. I strengthened my ability to engage in processes and make meaning. I know I will take all of the information I learned in this class with me, and actually use it for what it's worth.
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In this blog post, I will be posting the results of a Happiness Quiz that I took online. I got this idea from another student's blog post and felt that it could help me get a better understanding of my own happiness. I also thought that it could contribute to my process of writing my research paper. I have started writing my paper however I am not finished and figured this would give me some good insight to support my idea. Before I took the quiz I thought about my mental state and how happy I am on a daily basis. I tend to have many days where I am feeling happy and optimistic. However I do suffer with bad anxiety and I find that sometimes it puts me in a bad mood for a day, or a few days at a time. I just get caught up in my thoughts, worrying about my future and being successful. I also stress myself out about school a lot because I struggle with managing my time well.
Just for fun, I interviewed one of my friends and had him take the quiz before I did. I just wanted to get an idea of what quiz was about and how accurate it is because I think I know him pretty well. He scored a While taking this quiz I thought about what goes through my head on a regular basis. Some of the questions were simple, like how often do you exercise and do you take part in a spiritual activity or group. Some of the other questions were more along the lines of do you feel a sense of gratitude towards people/events from your past, and do you find yourself worrying about your future. I was actually pretty surprised to learn that I got an 89 out of 115 points. Sometimes I'm a little hard on myself and think that I have a hard time being positive about certain things. I know this quiz isn't entirely accurate on measuring my internal happiness, however it was nice to see myself receive a pretty good score from it. The quiz encourages you to read The 7 Habits of Happy People. It describes 7 of the most important aspects of being happy. I highly encourage everyone to read this short display because it really gives a good outlook on the important things in life. I believe I have a pretty strong relationship with almost all of the habits. It's all about how you look at life and appreciating the things you should. I am definitely going to recommend people in my life to read The 7 Habits of Happy people. For this weeks blog post we were able to choose what we wanted to write about, related to our Research Project. I chose to post the letter I wrote to Dr. Martin Seligman during last weeks class expressing my feelings about completing his "3 Good Things" exercise. As I said in my letter above, completing Dr. Seligman's "3 Good Things" exercise really made me feel good at the end of my days, no matter how I felt throughout that day. I think it's important to be aware of the good things that happen to every person every day. Even if you think you're not one of those people that good things happen to, you're wrong. Good things aren't necessarily winning $10.00 on a scratch-off or making a new friend. There's so much more to gratitude than the things people assume. Even just a smile from a stranger or a stranger holding the door open for you. Or even a stranger saying thank you when you hold the door open for them!!! There are many miserable people out there and I've noticed now more than ever how things as simple as smiles and thank you's are worth being grateful for.
This blog post will consist of dated journal entires over the course of 7 days. At the end of each day, I wrote down 3 things that went well for me that day with an explanation as to why. In preparation for this assignment, I read What is Positive Pyschology & Why Is it Important? (Positive Psychology Program), Greater Good in Action: Science-Based Practices for a Meaningful Life (UC Berkeley's Project Home Page), & Three Good Things (Greater Good in Action).
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *Tuesday, October 30th*
I will be using the PERMA model to analyze my data from the "three good things" approach. P= Positive emotion, pleasure, optimism E= Engagement, fulfilling work R= Relationships, social connections M= Meaning, having a purpose A= Accomplishments, ambition, important achievements P: 13 E: 6 R: 11 M: 6 A: 6 This blog post will consist of a vlog reflecting on the revision of my Narrative Project. To prepare for the second draft of my Narrative Project, I read What is Fan Fiction -- and why is it making people nervous? (Stephen Downes), and listened to Rewinding and Rewriting: The Alternate Universes in Our Head (Hidden Brain Podcast). My revised paper was changed to third person and present tense, and includes an alternate ending. This weeks blog post will consist of a 5-10 minute vlog of myself speaking/reflecting on my experience so far in my English Composition II class. I will conclude my reflection by speaking on my primary intrinsic English Composition II goals for the rest of the semester. For my Narrative Project, I wrote a detailed scene from my freshman year of high-school when I got the news that my mom had been in a serious motorcycle accident. I was sitting in class when I received a text message and my story relives that moment as well as the rest of that day. This blog post will contain two sections. In the first section I will be creating a free-form excerpting and remixing Found Poem. The second section will consist of a reflection about the content in my Narrative Project.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Section I: Found Poem The Anchor Faintly, burning, sinking Beams of light into the ocean Anchor from the night before Overlooking, and Sinking lower, rushed, and rolled over Humid, hectic, plump Twisting and wrapping Slamming in her face Cracked and fractured Skimmed burning eyelids Exploding all over Panic overlooking and Replayed to the fifth floor Shooting through the roof An accident ZZZZ ZZZ Gibberish Flush the words Leaking Uncontrollably The blank stare My brain trying The vibe, Clammy and cracked Unreasonable and scary Feeling the smell Clenched my breathing Released And Rescued WAKE UP And relief In control In that moment Lucky to be alive, world ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Section II: Reflection
Before completing this weeks blog post we were given a short story, My Mother Gives me a Writing Lesson (Martin Lee), which provided information on creating action in writing with details and description. This blog post will consist of me revising and adding to my story from blog post #5.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As I sat in math class during my freshman year of highschool, in my own little world, I felt my stomach twisting and wrapping itself up into one of those ridiculous pretzel yoga positions. I felt like my brain had lost it's operator, like that one episode of Spongebob where all his thoughts and memories were exploding all over the place. I was trying so hard to imagine all the possible places my mom could've been that morning. It was just so unlike her. She drove me to school every morning. ZZZZ ZZZ. I felt my phone buzz in the back pocket of the sweatpants I had on the night before, because of how hectic my morning was I just ran out the door for school without changing. I excused myself from the classroom and shuffled into the hallway to check my text message. It was from my dad. “Your mom was in a motorcycle accident late last night. I don’t know if she is going to be okay.” I felt the olive color of my skin flush to white from head to toe. My stomach released from that tight yoga position and exploded throughout my entire body. My throat closed up and I could feel my eyes leaking uncontrollably. As I navigated through the humid, grey concrete hallways, all I was focused on was catching my breath. I made it to my Jeep and attempted to gather myself before driving to Hahnemann Hospital. All I could think about was the argument her and I had the night before which ended in me slamming my door in her face. I replayed everything in my head. It is completely mind-blowing to me how that morning, the second I opened my eyes, I immediately had a funny feeling in my stomach. I had no clue why, but I did. Come to find out my mom had went out for a drink after our argument the previous night. She got on a motorcycle with some drunk dude bribing her with cheesesteaks in the city. Little did she know he would hit a vehicle head on, causing her to fly off the back. He ditched the Ben Franklin Parkway because some how he was not injured at all, leaving her there to be rescued by the ambulance. I truly believe she has a guardian angel watching over her. The vibe in that place was dreary, and clenched onto me as soon as I stepped foot in the door. The smell of sanitation and rubber gloves crept up my nose. I trekked up to the fifth floor where my mom was being kept. The doctors approached me and told me she was lucky to be alive. She had a cracked skull, a fractured spine, and a bunch of cuts and bruises. I remember thinking to myself, “Never leave a loved one on a bad note. No matter what the issue is, if you’re saying goodbye for the day, tell them you love them.” This weeks blog post has two parts. First, I will be rewriting a scene of action from The Yellow Wall-Paper (Charlotte Perkins Stetson). The second part will be a scene from my past when someone close to me made a decision that had a negative impact on my life.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Never once have I felt an emotion so deep, so bold, so evil, just from the looks of a color. This place has some sort of something extra to it. My husband, John, constantly nails into my head that we're only staying here temporarily. "Three more weeks darling. You must rest and ignore your thoughts" he says. He always promises he knows what’s best for me. Because he is a doctor apparently he must know what I'm feeling, and how to cure it. It sounds logical, even thought I do not fully believe he can see how bad I’m hurting inside. So I nod politely, holding back the words I wish to say, and do what my husband says. I lay still in the creaky old bed. This wallpaper. It's almost as if it is something like a novel. So much to tell, so mysterious, yet intriguing. I can't fathom being suffocated any longer. The dingy yellow walls are beginning to close in on me. My eyes hurt from staring, yet I can not stop. Oh how much I hate this wallpaper. Day in and day out, I read the walls looking for an answer to my sadness. I promise you, the paper is turning me inside out. All I want is to be free. Free from the yellow cloud that I can’t escape from. The bars on the windows make me feel trapped, and being trapped is part of my comfort zone, yet for some reason I feel I must escape to find my happiness again. I spend two sleepless nights staring endlessly. From wall, to wall, to window, back to wall. It is finally our last night at this home from hell. John is staying out tonight for work. For the amount of time I’ve spent thinking and analyzing and rationalizing the past 3 weeks, I use this time to do the opposite. I simply walk over to the window and wrap my dry, cracked fingers around the cold metal bars. I softly push on them and oh! Oh my. The bars, they came off. Just like that. I quietly swing my legs through the window and off I go. I am free again, and happy. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As I sat in math class during my freshman year of highschool, in my own little world, I felt my stomach twisting and wrapping itself up into one of those ridiculous pretzel yoga positions. I felt like my brain had lost it's operator, like that one episode of Spongebob where all his thoughts and memories were exploding all over the place. I was trying so hard to imagine all the possible places my mom could've been that morning. It was just so unlike her. She drove me to school every morning. ZZZZ ZZZ. I felt my phone buzz in the back pocket of the sweatpants I had on the night before, because of how hectic my morning was I just ran out the door for school without changing. I excused myself from the classroom and shuffled into the hallway to check my text message. It was from my dad. “Your mom was in a motorcycle accident late last night. I don’t know if she is going to be okay.” I felt the olive color of my skin flush to white from head to toe. My stomach released from that tight yoga position and exploded throughout my entire body. My throat closed up and I could feel my eyes leaking uncontrollably. As I navigated through the humid, grey concrete hallways, all I was focused on was catching my breath. I made it to my car and attempted to gather myself before driving to the hospital. All I could think about was the argument her and I had the night before which ended in me slamming my door in her face. I replayed everything in my head. It is completely mind-blowing to me how that morning, the second I opened my eyes, I immediately had a funny feeling in my stomach. I had no clue why, but I did. Come to find out my mom had went out for a drink after our argument the previous night. She got on a motorcycle with some drunk dude bribing her with cheesesteaks in the city. Little did she know he would hit a vehicle head on, causing her to fly off the back. He ditched the Ben Franklin Parkway because some how he was not injured at all, leaving her there to be rescued by the ambulance. I truly believe she has a guardian angel watching over her. This weeks blog post has two parts. First, I will be rewriting a scene of action from Bullet in the Brain (Tobias Wolff). The story was about a man who walked into a crowded bank. Two robbers end up coming in and the man instigates them which leads to him getting shot in the head. I will create a different scene within that story. Then, I will be composing a scene showing action in my current life. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Flat, washed out grey clouds lay across the sky like a blanket. Thin slivers of blue are struggling to peak through. Anders dragged his cranky self to the bank just before closing. There was a line almost out the door. He let out an annoyed breath of air and stood behind some woman who seemed to be whining about something he didn’t care about. Indeed, she was. “Can you believe that bank teller closed her station with all of these customers to be taken care of? Ugh!!!” she complained. “Unforgiveable. Heaven will take note” Anders responded, sarcastically. Her face, surprised, stared at him, and them stared past him. Suddenly her skin went white. “NOBODY MOVE AND NOBODY WILL GET HURT!” Two men, drenched in black all the way to their facemasks bolted through the bank doors. The room was robbed of any noise besides their scratchy, bold voices and deep breaths from the scared victims. Anders was one cocky man. He was not even phased by these men, surprisingly, he found them to be comical. He embraced a smirk growing across his face while the two robbers screamed at the customers. “You think I’m some kind of clown? You think you can fuck with me?” The man questioned Anders. “No.” “Fuck with me again, you’re history. Capiche?” The man said. Anders bursted out with an obnoxious laugh. The mans face went from olive to beat red. He twirled his gun out from his dainty jean pocket and into the palm of his sweaty hand and darted over towards Anders, who was still rocking that smirk. “That’s it!!!!” He screamed. The man was booking it towards him. Anders did a little side-step to the right, and wrapped his arms around his neck. With all his strength, Anders threw the man into one of the marble pillars. CRACK! Everyone in the bank gasped. The man laid still on the floor as a pool of blood began creeping out from underneath. He looked up only to see the camera had already been shot at. He took a minute to stare at the mythological creatures on the ceiling he had never noticed before. The woman who was in front of him in line began vomiting. Anders, not even the slightest bit flustered, looked around for the other burglar. He was more focused on grabbing the money and getting the hell out of there. So Anders decided to do the same. He walked out of the bank and back into the grey world. “Maybe I’ll try out the other bank tomorrow” he said. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I can literally feel the vibrations of the music throughout my entire body. My heart is pounding to the beat of the beat. The man on stage is leaking sweat from head to toe. His blue and red flannel gets unbuttoned while his mullet slicks down onto the back of his neck. I’m taking a sip as I’m jamming out to Morgan Wallen’s beautiful voice, accompanied by Dewey Beach’s finest voices in the background. Yet again, the ice cold drink lands directly on my shirt. I am now desperately scoping the room for a damn straw.
“HEY!!! Where’d you get that straw?!!!” I startled this short girl who is standing in front of my best friend Dana. “In the bathroom!” She responds. I give her a look of confusion, but at this point I don’t really care. I’m on a mission. Straw!!! Dana and I walk into the bathroom, and we both are looking in awe. In a bathroom, I know. But this is not just any bathroom!! The counter top is over-crowded with everything and anything a girl might need. From candy, to perfume, hair supplies, gum, lotion, and straws!! I grab it and plop it into my drink. “Oh, just leave a tip and you can take whatever you want!” A small voice says from behind us. I turn around and see a nice lady sitting in the corner. She has a pink cloth outfit on with dainty white sandals. Her hair is permed and her face is glowing. She is wearing a necklace that seems to be very old. It’s a brass owl with yellow eyes. “My name is Keesha, by the way. I was once you two girls. I always wondered why nobody thought of this back in my day. I hope you girls found what you needed” Keesha said, “I found this necklace in here months ago and for some reason it inspired me”. “This is amazing. You are such a great person for doing this all out of your own time and money!” Dana responds, as she throws in a 20$ bill. “Oh sweetheart thank you. Have a blessed evening!” We are walking out of the bathroom with smiles on our face. She gives off a vibe of such wisdom and pureness. There are good people in this world. |
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