ashweeeee’s blog

Group 2. Twenty thousand rock fans flock to see and hear Pink Floyd at the river Cincinnati’s river-front coliseum.

Group 3. Although the concert is still three hours off, several thousand early birds arrive decked out in their best rocker gear.

Group 4. The new comers to the rock scene stand out in their neatly pressed checked slacks and expensive shirts.

Group 5.  The loners weave aimlessly around, squinting so they can steady themselves.

Group 6. The couples cling to each other near fountains or in remote corners.

Group 7.  The police stride confidently among the crowd in large groups, sweeping their eyes over the area looking for trouble.

Group 8. Hawkers call out trying to unload their cheap t-shirts, and pennants, drawing only laughed from most concert goers.

Group 9. As the numbers grow. There are circles of roamers, couples, and cops swarming confusedly over the acres of concrete that lead up to the auditorium. 

       Brad moved behind the enemy lines with stealthy actions. Never did he think about how this could be his last day, last moment, last breath. He ran dodging bullet after bullet, grenade after grenade, fighting for his country. His orders were given, and all he had to do was to secure the house where the insurgents were camped out. Nothing mattered to him at that moment except serving out his orders and saving his fellow “brothers.”  So why is it that when he gets back home, he is awarded a hero and has medals showing his courage? In his eyes all he did was his job, the reason he joined the army to begin with.

            In most people’s eyes anyone serving in our armed forces has great courage. They are doing something for their country that could ultimately end their lives. Of course they have to feel fear, because without fear there really isn’t courage, right? Is courage that feeling that you’re supposed to be humble about and not notice you have it or is it the drive and determination that comes before doing something dangerous? In my eyes I believe that as a society we throw that word around too much. We say that people have a lot of courage just because of his or her job or lifestyle, but if you asked that person if they thought they had courage their answer will most likely be no. This just shows us how many different meanings are behind the word courage. It symbolizes this great, even sometimes powerful, thing that springs up in people of all shapes and sizes.

            Sarah walks to school in her hand-me-down clothes, torn shoes, and dirty face. Thoughts of her parents arguing over their money troubles, and how they were going to get their next meal were racing through her adolescent mind. She knew it was up to her to keep her family together. She continues to think about what she will say when she acts like the grown up mediator tonight. She talks to her teacher about her situation and her teacher tells her how courageous she is being. Sarah doesn’t understand how she is being courageous when she is just being a good daughter. To me Sarah also shows a tremendous amount of courage. Yet you don’t hear them complain of her life or asking why she had to have this life. She doesn’t play the victim or even hopeless and helpless. Compared to someone in uniform who in a way asked to be there. She is forced into a situation where she has to show her independence and hide her weaknesses.

            Mary Anne Radmacher once said, “ Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying. “I will try again tomorrow.” This quote shows the two sides of courage perfectly. There is the army man who puts his life on the line almost every day of his life for his country, but is humble about his courageous acts. On the other there is the child trying to just be there for their family and help them through this tough time. One large roar fighting to protect their country, and one quiet voice trying to protect just their small family. To me courage is that something that others should have to point out to you. It’s that thing you are unaware of and would never have thought about it until someone close to you says it aloud. You don’t feel it; you show it in your actions and accomplishments. Its’ your strength and determination to get through a difficult situation, but being well aware of the fear that comes along with getting over that hump. 

I lay in bed, sweating and shaking violently. My teeth chatter like a jackhammer uncontrollably breaking through cement. The reoccurring question stapled to my brain “Why is it happening again?” I didn’t understand what could have triggered my attack. I had locked all the doors, twice, and went through my nightly ritual. I was sure nothing bad was going to happen. No man was going to creep into my house and brutally chop my head off while I slept. What could have possibly made me this anxious to cause this response?

This has been the story of my life, especially since I entered high school, anxiety attack after anxiety attack. At first when I started to go through them I thought I was just getting sick. Then I noticed that they only occurred when I was extremely nervous or stressed out about something going on at the time. Now, every once in awhile, they will come out of the blue for no apparent reason. My attacks go hand in hand with my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, which doesn’t help much either.

OCD doesn’t mean complete unhappiness and distress. For example the feelings that wash over me when I look at a beautiful, white, clean paper are unexplainable. To me that piece of paper is anything but plain. It is absolutely perfect with its perfect blue lines that are perfectly even and the perfect left margin that is perfectly outlined in a thin red, perfect line. It reminds me of the happiness and joy I get when I write with a brand new orange marker. The line that marker makes amazes me every time I use it. These are just some of the lovely emotions that come with having OCD.

When you don’t play by the rules that OCD and anxiety lay out for you, then you must over come the punishments you receive.  The trick of dealing with anxiety and OCD is waiting. You have to be able to wait out whatever your consequence is for not following through with your daily routine. During an anxiety attack you can’t control your self. There is no power off switch and there is definitely no speeding up the agonizing process. All that my body can do is wait for the horrible, creeping wave of tension to fully seize my body in its undertow. After each attack I promise myself I will not let what ever caused it, to happen again. I feel the need to be more cautious with my actions, but quickly come to the rational knowledge of not being able to control the fact that I will screw up again. Or catch myself before I make a stupid mistake, its inevitable. Also, I am an eighteen-year-old high school senior. I am constantly stressed.

Being patient and understanding is the best thing for someone who has anxiety. No matter what you do, you can’t stop their attacks from coming. Asking the victim the reason for having the attack doesn’t help anyone either. It causes more unnecessary stress that can eventually lead to another attack. So not only is it a waiting game for the person who has the disease, it’s also a waiting game for everyone around him or her. My friends and family do what they can to help out, but I don’t live in a bubble protecting me from the world, nor do I want to. In the end I feel like a little girl standing outside in the rain, waiting for her ride to finally take her home. 

1. Are rants bad?  Should we indulge in them for no other reason then catharsis or expression? Or is the world already too mean?

To me being happy is when everything in your life is going good. You feel invincible, almost like nothing is ever going to bring you down. Its a sense of feeling perfect even though you know its impossible to feel that way. Being happy to me is that warm feeling that starts off your day and you know its going to be an epic one. It also could be knowing that something exciting is about to happen and you look forward it. 

         The hook of this article actually did get my attention. I wanted to know what specific story would her grandma tell in times like these. It definitely made me want to read more to find out. I really like all the stories she included from people who were just trying to show others their stories. It showed how during tough times all these people wanted was an outlet. Someone, anyone really to listen to their hardships and comical adventures. I loved the paragraph where she talked about how the “women quilted and pressed laundry, stitched shoes and danced in burlesque shows.” It gave me vivid pictures and she didn’t even go into great detail about them. Also, it gave examples of the different types of women from that era. Through out the article it kept taking me back into a different time zone, but also bringing me back to the problems of this era. Her concluding paragraph really tied everything up for me. It was clear about why she thought writing stories would help the nation as a whole. I liked how she included the quote by the president saying  ”Start right now. Tell us your story.”. It was powerful and got her point across. Her ending wasn’t cheesy or cliche; she got to her point and reiterated her important parts. 

1. The hurricane was pretty cool.
2. The whole class was bored.
3. I drove into a clown on the road.

While listening to this essay i started to think about how it would be almost impossible to not be digital. There is no way i could ever give up my computer or cell phone. This might make me sound materialistic but I’m an 18 year old in America. Don’t get me wrong I love watching old movies from the 50’s or 60’s with their record players and telephones. It’s difficult to see myself just using outdated technology. My generation is is brought up with learning how to pretty much make a living off new technology. If we don’t use it or never learn to use it, it could mean an unsuccessful life in the future for us. Also, as a generation we are too used to instant gratification, and could never go from using it to not. 

    In the past years I believe the one writing assignment that has had a large influence on me was my autobiographical letter. It made me take a look at my future as well as my past. I got to analyze important events within my life that changed me. I have been asked to write a lot of persuasive pieces, which seem to be the easiest to for me to do. That situation seems to apply to writing opinion pieces for me too. It’s just easier to write about something that you’re passionate about. I haven’t gone off and done writing on my own though. I honestly don’t think that writing my feelings down helps me at all. I think the reason that writing is a required part of the traditional academic skill set because it helps make us more creative and let loose with things. I’m not sure what there is that teachers could do differently. Although, I do think that teachers could be a little more lenient on the topics that students get to choose from, because like I said before it’s easier to write about things you like. Also, instead of just learning grammatical errors we should be taught different ways to attack a certain prompt.