Descriptive Detail: A Day At The Beach

It was a bright and sunny day with the sun scorching above the sky blue beach. My family and I were on summer vacation in Alexandria, Egypt. I was 7 years old at the time. We all went to the beach on this luminous day. There were white sea gulls flying over the glittering water. The smell of the salty beach made us serene. My brother, cousin and I raced across the burning sand that made our feet sink into it and turn red; we ran into the beach for a swim while our parents set up the table and umbrella. We splashed the salty water all over each other. We held our breath, put our heads underwater, opened our eyes, and looked for sea shells. When we removed our heads from the water and looked at each other, our eyes were glowing red because of the salty water. It gave a burning and itching sensation in our eyes. We rubbed our eyes and then continued to collect shells. We collected clams, oysters, and the typical spiraled shells. We put our ears to the opening of the pure white shells and heard the tranquil sound of the waves of the beach. We gathered all our shells and put them in my cousins blue bucket. Our parents were sitting under the umbrella talking and reading magazines and newspapers. “Don’t go in too deep.” said my mom. “Don’t worry mom we’re not in that deep. We could still stand in that area.” My brother replied. So we ran back into the sparkling water and suddenly an enormous wave came crashing down with a thunderous noise onto us. We flew back closer to the shore with salt in our eyes, mouth, and nose and sand all over our bodies and hair. I felt a stinging burn on my left hand from my fourth finger all the way to the bottom of my thumb. I looked at my hand and realized that there was a glowing, pinkish-red, long scar on it. It looked as if I had been whipped. My brother had the same mark on his right arm and my cousin had one on his leg but both to a lesser degree than mine. We realized that there were jellyfish deep in the beach where we had gone into. The mark on my hand was getting inflamed and slowly started to bulge on my hand. We all quickly ran out of the water and went to our parents. I have no idea how I was able to hold my pain inside and not scream at the top of my lungs. The jellyfish sting was an itching inflamed burn, that just got more red and bumpy, and anything that touched it made it worse. My aunt quickly took me to the nurse on the beach and he dipped a piece of cotton into a jar of vinegar and wiped it all over the burning scar on my hand. It felt like a mosquito bite mixed with a burn from a stove, and the sting of a needle (vaccination); or more like burning flesh. The vinegar eventually decreased the bump but the mark of the sting was still evident. The nurse did the same for my brother and cousin but their wound wasn’t bumpy or long like mine. We don’t know where that jellyfish was because it was transparent and so swam unnoticed in the clear water. It probably came closer due to the wave and one of its tentacles just got caught on us. Later we went to the pharmacy and got cream that relieved the burn and made the scar disappear. This was a day to remember because despite the skin tearing burns we got from the sting of the jellyfish, we had an amazing time collecting sea shells that we have kept to this day. Every time we put our ears to the shells, we hear the sound of the waves in the beach and imagine ourselves when we were running into the water.

Visceral Reactions

Visceral Reactions
When a person is put in a nerve-wracking or overwhelming situation they exhibit visceral reactions. For example, during a major exam, like the SAT or ACT(that determine ones future), my friend constantly shakes her legs up and down, even when they are crossed. When crossing one leg over the other she shakes the foot that is on top. When that foot gets tired she crosses her legs the other way around and then starts to shake that other foot. She also starts to twirl her hair when she is stuck on a question. She actively chews her gum and doesn’t stop, sometimes making small bubbles and popping them with her tongue. She gets tired of chewing, spits out the gum in a napkin and then goes on to biting her nails. Sitting on the chair, she is constantly moving. She gets butterflies in her stomach from the fear of the difficulty of the exam. Her heart races, sweat fills her scalp. Her face and body start to get warmer due to anxiety. She bites the inner side of her cheek pulling pieces of skin off with her teeth. Throughout this whole time of the exam her legs don’t stop moving and the butterflies just won’t leave her alone. When she writes her hands tremble while her heart continues to race-until it’s all over.

Thursday Free Write 9/23

Since this free write could be on anything, I am going to write about how I am already exhausted from college. I do not really like it that much. In high school I couldn’t wait until I graduate and now being in college I wish I was in high school again. Actually now I also can’t wait until I graduate from college. I don’t know why but I’m just not that comfortable in this college environment. Maybe because I just started and I might get used to it, but as of now I’m not. There’s just so much to do in so little time. Now that college started I feel like there aren’t enough hours in the day. Maybe I’m just overwhelmed from the workload and its difficulty in some of my classes. But I feel like some professors are too vague about what they want and some don’t give a damn about the students. That just makes me feel uncomfortable because the professors just aren’t like my high school teachers. But I guess that’s what change is all about and I know that there are many things in life that I’m not going to like but I just have to put up with it. That’s just how life is. That’s why I hope I can put up with the upcoming years and enjoy them. I know this is college and it’s a big step, and I’m an adult now and all that, but being worried is just a part of my nature. This is going to be a major challenge that I can’t wait to overcome. While I’m here all I can do is try to enjoy and excel in what I do. Sometimes I feel like finishing college is going to take forever even though I know that time flies by. I try to imagine myself six years from now but it seems to far away. At this current time I just want to get all my assignments over with and do well in all my courses so that I won’t have to worry as much. Eventually I’m going to get used to college and hopefully I like it more and more each year if not each day.

Monday 9/20 Free Write-Figurative Language(strongest emotion)

The most intense pain I have ever felt was in the second grade when I got stitches for the first time in my life. It was a quiet Friday afternoon until some family friends came over. Their children sat and played with my brother and I. My brother and his friend were playing basketball in the basement while my friend and I were just sitting on the bed and talking. The constant dribbling of the ball made me feel like there was an earthquake in the basement or that the place was about to erupt. Suddenly, without any thought of action, my brother’s friend threw the ball towards my direction. I quickly placed my hands on my head, the left hand above the right. The ball hit the picture frame that was on the wall behind the bed. The glass from the frame came shattering down like a thunderous storm. I removed my hands from my head and then realized that the skin on my left thumb was slowly starting to open apart. Suddenly, blood started gushing out like a waterfall. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. We all quickly ran upstairs to tell my parents. While I was running big red blots of blood stained my basement floor. My skin was opening more and more and my clothes were now red instead of white. Everyone came rushing over to me as I screamed at the sight that I saw. I felt as if my skin was pulling itself away from each other. I felt the stream of blood running throughout my left hand. My uncle tried to wash my thumb with water in the sink. The feeling of the water on my open wound was even more excruciating. It was like putting a nail in the open wound. I wrapped loads of tissue paper on my thumb and was taken to the hospital. My eyes were flooded with tears. Rivers ran down my face. I was speechless; all I could do was try not to feel my skin being torn apart from the inside out. At the emergency room the doctors quickly gathered, removed the red tissue paper, and put a bucket under my thumb while the volcano continued to erupt and spout out lava. I sat on the bed while they brought the tools for stitching. “I don’t want stitches! Please!” I cried. The doctors gave me two shots on my thumb. I felt the needle drive through my skin and then through my bone-twice. All I could do is scream while they drilled the anesthetic in. Then they brought over the scissors and thread-like material to close the wound with. My mom held me tight and told me to look away while they held my thumb. I just stared at the odd scissor that they had. It had two holes at the tip and I saw them put the thread through it just like a sewing needle. I looked away with tears running down my eyes as they started to sew the skin together like a piece of cloth. Even though the pain had decreased I still sensed the thread passing through my skin. I looked at how it slithered form side to side on my skin. It was like a snake going through a maze. I don’t know how long the anesthetic lasted but I started to feel as if the nerve in my whole left arm was being pulled towards my thumb as they pulled the stitches together tightly. The wound was finally closed. But the pain wasn’t. Sixteen stitches-eight inside and eight outside to make the seal. The pain lasted even after I removed the stitches. But that was another painful day in which the doctor first snapped the stitches with a hole-puncher-like tool (except without the holes). The cold metal of the tool on my skin made me shiver. He then pulled out the stitches from my skin as if pulling a plant out from the ground. I screamed. Just when I thought it was over I had to go to physical therapy because my tendon had been torn and my thumb was stiff and dead like a corpse. The therapist put my hand in a container with wax. She then removed it and began to move my white, gloved thumb. I felt like she was going to break my thumb in half…it was like trying to break a pen. Eventually, after 3 months, the corpse was brought back to life; I was able to move my thumb. But to this day I sometimes feel the shortness of my tendon preventing me from moving my thumb with ease. Even though my wound is healed the scar reminds me that the pain was real.

Show Don’t Tell- My Birthday

 It was a bright day with the sun scorching over our house in a way that you could actually feel the heat coming through. I was wearing a turquoise tee-shirt with jeans. The door bell rang twice like the sound of the church bells ringing in my ears. My mom went to open the door. Even though it was my birthday, I remember studying for my physics regents that day. I went downstairs to see who was there. My friend and I hugged each other and suddenly I turned to the right and saw three gift bags lying on the dining table. One had pink, black, and white designs all over it and had a green gem stuck on the top. The other was plain light pink and the third was black on white with a pink flower glued in the middle.  “Happy 18^th Birthday!” said my friend.  “We couldn’t wait until the weekend and wanted to make this a surprise for you before your regents.” “Oh, thank you guys so much, I’m glad there’s something to get me away from physics-well at least for now.” I said. My friend’s mom brought in the cake. I quickly ran upstairs and changed into a cheetah print top, only because the turqouis tee shirt was too casual. I ran back downstairs and turned right into the dining room where they had opened the box and took out the cake. It was a round, white puff cake with white cream smoothly spread across the top and neatly spread on throughout the sides. On the top there were six big plump strawberries, placed around the arc of the cake, which glazed with jam that gave it a clear lust. Between each strawberry there was a swirl of smooth cream. In the white creamy circle in the middle, there read “Happy Birthday Noranne” in pink strawberry frosting. “Now let go of that book and come celebrate your 18^th birthday!” my friend said. I don’t know why I still held that big, heavy, thick, blue Barron’s physics review book in my hand but I quickly went to the living room and threw it on the piano. Everyone gathered around the dining table including my brothers and they sang Happy Birthday and before we cut the cake I got to open my gifts. I first opened the bag with the green gem on it and in it was a square glass box with the words “Yesterday, Today, and tomorrow” engraved in the middle. When I opened it there was a glass heart on the lid with the words “God made us best friends, our hearts made us sisters” engraved on it. In the box laid a black small bag with a silver bracelet made of hearts intertwined together with one bigger heart dangling from it with the same quote engraved on it. I quickly put it on and thanked and hugged them all. The next gift was a crystal horse; they knew that I like horseback riding. The third gift was a pair of black Calvin Klein flats. After all the gift-opening we took the cake to the living room and my friend and I took a picture before I cut the cake. We had the cake in front of us and there her brother’s water bottle was standing on the ground between the chair and piano. Suddenly my mom swiped a chunk of the cream with her hand and wiped it all over my face. The cream got into my nose and eyes and I started to lick some off my mouth with. My face felt sticky and smooth at the same time and it smelled like strawberry. I slid my finger across my white creamy face and took some cream and licked it. I went to the bathroom to wash my face and it was difficult to remove the cream because it was quite sticky. After washing my face with soap and drying it my face felt somewhat oily due to the heavy cream. I cut the cake and we all had a nice chunk of the cake. It had a strawberry filling in it with more cream in the double layered cake. We all ate the cake and unfortunately I had to go back to studying when they left. I opened the book to the centripetal motion chapter. It was a memorable day…I could still feel the smooth cream all over my face till this day.

Gender Expectations

 

All of today’s gender roles and norms are engraved in our minds since childhood. Our parents portray the ideal gender norms that were portrayed to them as children and that gradually became a part of our lives. Family and cultural traditions play an important part in how gender roles are depicted. I remember when I was young(around elementary/middle school), whenever I used to go on vacation to visit my family I always used to spend most of my time with my cousins-whom were all boys. At an early age I learned what my gender role was and was taught what gender expectations were. Being the only girl, I would feel bored alone and decide to go play with my cousins. Being the boys that they are, my cousins played with each other aggressively as well as with me. Then whenever I used to get hurt and cry my mom would tell me, “You are not supposed to play with them because they are boys and they are more tough and aggressive than you are.” I used to wonder how they could tolerate each other’s violent hits and eventually I learned that it’s because their bodies are just built to be stronger than a girl’s body; I’m just more sensitive to anything because I’m a girl. And plus it was normal and ok for them to play aggressively because they were boys but me being a girl I wasn’t allowed to do that. My mom would put me in flowery dresses and make me look all fashionable with a bow on my head and all that pretty stuff. I felt that they had everything going easy for them because they were boys and they didn’t need to look pretty or anything like that. Whenever I used to want to play games with my brother and cousins he would tell me, “Action games aren’t for girls. Go play with your dolls or help mom or something.”  And when I go tell my mom she would just tell me, “You should come help me in the kitchen and around the house. These are skills you will need to learn for your future when you get married and have a family.” My brother would carry all the heavy workload around the house while I would help my mom cook or clean.  Also because they are the male gender they were allowed to go out alone because they are stronger and could take care of themselves but there was more fear over me(of getting kidnapped or lost) when I went out.  Gradually, as I got older I began to view these gender roles around me in society, school, and my peers. Even though females now dress more casual and wear more pants and shirts rather than fashionable dresses, there is still a distinction between them and males because style is still part of their norm. This was evident to me in high school where girls would make themselves all pretty even if they were dressed casually while boys wouldn’t really show much importance to looks. The girls would always go to the bathroom and put on makeup and fix their hair. The guys would talk about sports, go to the gym, work out and show off their “manliness” with their “built” bodies and what not. My female friends would constantly talk about shopping and what clothing styles they like. Soon I became aware that since the past males and females have been entitled with certain gender expectations that are passed down from generation to generation. That’s just the way life has been going: males are expected to be athletic, stoic, the dominant presence, and the breadwinners. Females are supposed to be well kept, the home makers and nurturer of children. Many factors contribute to the ongoing gender expectations such as society, culture, tradition, school, peers, church, history, and most importantly family. Now I have taken on the female role of taking care of my younger brother and working around the house. I now know that since I’m a girl I am supposed to be delicate/polite (instead of playing aggressively with boys) and mother like. Through my experiences and memories I learned to acquire these gender roles and norms as a part of my life. I learned it from my family and they learned it from theirs.

       

What Is It About 20-Somethings?

   20-somethings are taking longer to reach adulthood these days mostly due to a fear and lack of responsibility. It may also be due to some parental mistakes such as not helping their children make life goals early on. Those in their 20s may just not be ready to have the perfect job that would sustain them for life. They're not emotionally and mentally ready to make and support a family especially during hard economic times where neither homes nor jobs are guaranteed. So why be in a rush to reach adulthood? The economy is definitely a reason why people in their 20s are frustrated about adulthood. Not only are there not enough jobs but even those with jobs don't get paid enough to keep them independent; plus prices are too high. They may need a better economy to assist them on their journey to adulthood. Many 20-somethings also do not know what they want to do with their lives at their age, even after they graduate and that just extends the time for them to have a real and stable job. They not only have no career options but are also not motivated to search for one. This may be due to laziness which is present among most if not all people in their 20's. Parents may not have encouraged them to make life choices from an early age; instead they may have made decisions for them whether it be school or job related. Therefore, they get used to relying on their parents to support them because it's just much easier that way. So, their process into adulthood is delayed. Many 20-somethings just need a longer time to discover what their potential is or if they have any potential at all in anything. Their minds aren't occupied with getting into adulthood quickly but with all the disadvantages(such as debt) and responsibilities of adulthood that they haven't been raised to endure.