Blog 14

I have a black and white close up photo of myself that I had to take for my art class. In this photo my head is slightly tilted and shadow is covering half of my face. I like this photo because I like black and white photos and movies, it makes everything seem older.

Blog 13

In one of the boxes my mom has stored in the attic was a box full of my old toys that she stored up there when I started going to middle school and stopped playing with my toys. My favorite toy was hungry hungry hippos that my friends and I would spend hours playing. Most of the marbles from the game had gone missing because most of the times the game games would finish and every body would grab a handful of marbles and have a marble fight.

One time in particular I remember it started a fist fight between brothers. What happened was that a group of my friends and I were planning on going to the batting cages except these two brothers only had enough money for one to go. So after fighting about it for awhile the decided to play hungry hungry hippos for it. One game winner takes all.

During the game the two were evened up, but as the game was winding down the younger brothers hippo got stuck and the older brother didn't stop and in fact won the game. The younger brother protested but everyone agreed those were the breaks and his brother won. The younger brother refused to give up his half of the money and that started a fight between the two. The older brother beat the younger brother up pretty good, than took his money and went to the batting cages with us. Although when the older brother got home he got grounded for an entire week.

Blog 12

I plan on revising my first essay on losing all my child hood friends as I got older. I think that my first essay was just more relate able to people, while my second essay wasn't as relate able or understandable because somethings that were integral to the story I could not write about because it was private family matters. I liked my first essay more because it seems all my previous writings in class have been about friends and early childhood, its a big topic for me for what ever reason and much easier to write about because of that.

Essay 2

I can remember as a kid hating Christmas,this seems odd to say and probably even more odd to hear. Everyone loves Christmas, especially kids. But for me I always dreaded Christmas day because it was one of the few times a year I had to see my fathers side of the family. Every Christmas Eve my mother, father, brother, and I would spend Christmas at our house with my moms side of the family which I loved. I'm extremely close to my mothers side of the family because I see them very often, they have always been apart of my life since I was a small child. They were at my baseball games, football games, graduation, and every major event in my life. Even if it wasn't a major holiday or an important event they would still stop by the house just to talk to the family like friends do. We are an extremely close family that always helped each other, worked together, celebrated together, looked out for each other, and took care of each other.


As for the other side of the family, I could never stand my fathers side of the family. I never told this to anyone except my brother cause it sounds like a mean thing to say, and it probably is even though its the truth. For some reason in my family you are automatically expected to love everyone else in the family even if you barely ever seen them or know anything about them. I just don't think that way, yes they are family but I probably never interacted with them more than 50 times my entire life. How can I realistically love anyone I know so little about and spend such few time with. It really cheapens the word love in my opinion which should be reserved for something you have true feelings about.


Its not that I hate my fathers side of the family, its just that I always felt my family was out of the loop and treated as second class citizens by them. Never knew why that was but we weren't apart of their group, I had a suspicion it had to do do with my mom but that's most likely because she would act phony and kiss up to them like other people do. Its not that I've been tormented by this and let it affect my life, in fact I never think about except a few days before I know I have to actually go see them. But those few days a year I do have to see them are horrible, and Christmas day was the ground zero.


Christmas was the one day of the year I knew my family was definitely going to see that side of the family. All the other times it was for a wedding, communion, baptism, or some other event like that, although sometimes none of those events would happen in a given year. But Christmas was every year and there was no doubt about it I had to see them for Christmas. So every year while other kids were counting down the days to Christmas, I was the opposite always wondering how Christmas always comes up so fast. Now it isn't all bad, as like I said Christmas Eve with my moms side is always great with the presents, the food, good cheer, and everything else that comes with the holidays. But its hard to enjoy when you know in just a few hours you have to go somewhere you hate, to celebrate a holiday you should love with people you don't really care for.


Normally the Christmas day celebration with my fathers side of the family starts off horribly with the entire family having to get up from our are warm beds to get dressed and head out to my uncles house in Massachusetts. This ride in the cold and infuriating traffic takes us several hours till we finally get to my uncles house were the entire family has already began to eat dinner. Apparently they can't wait a few minutes for people who made the long trip by car, they have to eat at exactly twelve. Dinner is no better as the entire family reminisce and talks about subjects that my family isn't involved in, making my family at the end of the table quietly talk to our selves. Then its time to open presents, with the living room full gifts my brother and I have to wait and watch all the other kids receive multiple gifts and envelops of money until with finally get our one crummy gift and envelop that usually only ten bucks and no even in cash but a check. After a few more hours of having to listen to my relatives go on and on about themselves and pat themselves on the back its finally time for my family to leave, and we do it with out much attention or being wished a happy holiday by any of them. Then my family gets back into the car and we take another long, cold, cramped ride back to our home. But its a sweet ride home because I know I have 364 days till I know I have to see them again.


Now I'm not sure if they are trying to act rudely on purpose, but I know you can definitely do a better job making someone feel at home and being a good host. But this is a big reason I can't really say that I care for my fathers side of the family, I just don't know them at all and to me they are either rude or oblivious to the fact that they are rude, neither one a good quality. I have no idea how they got this way cause my dad turned out fine, but I do know that I don't care that they are my family, I just don't care for them. It was something I used to feel guilty about when ever I would felt that way but not anymore, that was a feeling that my mom and dad pressed upon me, not my own. I mean how can I pretend to care for that side of the family when I don't even know most of their last names, phone numbers, or where they even live. I have no problem saying that I was closer and cared more about my friends than I did about my family because I'm loyal and care more about character than blood.


Now some may say that maybe I should try to reach out, make an effort to learn about them, and that I'm not being fair. I'm I being judgmental? Should I offer and olive branch? Of course not! This treatment has been going on since I can remember, truthfully they aren't the type of people I want to associate with anyway. If they weren't my family I would never spend a minute with these people, they are just unlikable. Its the type of relationship that I know once I get older and have my own family that I will never see them again so whats the point in in thinking about them and this any more. Some may thing I may be missing out on being close to half the family but I'm really not, my moms side of the family is more than enough.

Blog 10

I want to write my second essay on how I mistrust most people and am skeptical of most explanations I get. I believe its because from an early age my mom would lie to me in order to get me do behave. My mom isn’t a bad person, she just did because I would listen to reason and it was the only way to make me do the right thing when I was a little kid. Also that’s the way she was raised as well, and possibly what she did was the right thing because I never got in to serious trouble. But what happened is I also became mistrusting of people and skeptical of explanations I receive as well.

I want to talk about how it effected my relationship with people negatively and even positively in some cases.

Also I want to talk about if I plan on changing or not in the future. If I would or wouldn't use the same strategy on my kids if I ever have them. Also how I think I would be a different person if my up bring would have been different.

Blog 9

I think I was able to make my essay clear even though it involved a lot of people and wasn't a single event but a something that gradually happened through the years. Also I think my first essay is one that all people can relate too because I don't know a single person who hasn't lost contact with a friend who they think wish they hadn't.

What I want to do differently in my second draft is expand on my first draft, my first draft was to short and not enough details. Maybe go into detail about how I met each one of my friends, and provide a time line of when I lost track with all my fiends. Also I didn't go into much detail on why I lost track with my friends, for a few friends I said I just grown a part from but theres more to it that I should have elaborated on.

Also I noticed I never commented much on what I've done since losing track of my old friends. Its been years since than and a lot has happened hat I can share.

Blog 8

Joe Fernandes

ENG 3017*01

Dr. Chandler

Draft Essay # 1

October 5, 2009

Growing up I always remembered having a ton of friends, I would always follow my older brother around whether he liked it or not, and along with that came his friends as well. At first I was seen as young pest that they begrudgingly accepted because of who's brother I was, but soon after we genuinely became friends. There was 9 of us total, and I was the youngest of all by at least two years. I was never in the same classes, rarely saw them at school, and didn't have the same mutual experiences and memories because of that. Even so I never felt left out because we all spent so much time together after school, talking on the phone, and especially in the summer.

I always enjoyed the fact that my friends were older, it made me different from the other kids my age and made me feel more advanced than the kids my age. It wasn't that I didn't get along with the kids my age or in my class, I just wasn't interested in a lot of what the kids my ages were in to. I think it had to do with the fact that as early as I can remember I was greatly influenced by my brother who is four years older so I was always interested in things that the older crowd enjoyed. I also never saw my classmates outside of class like I did with my other friends, my brothers friends were over our house all the time, and we went over every ones house constantly as well.

Growing was a great experience, I had a large group of friends that always kept me active. We played baseball, football, Basketball, went camping, fishing, built forts, and anything else you can imagine. But with a large group of friends like I had you have to expect that things won't always be the same, there's bound to be some friends that move away or friends you just grow apart from, that's part of growing up. But within a few years that large group of friends that I had grown up with dwindled all they way down to just two, myself and my brother.

Within five years from fourth grade to my freshman year in high school all seven good friends that I had since I was four were gone. One got in trouble and was sent off to military school, another was kicked out of his house and never heard from again, two brothers moved away, and the other three my brother and I grew a part from because we were only friends with them through the two brothers that had moved away. My brother and I stayed friends with the two brothers that moved away for several years but the distance became to much. Its to much work at a young age to try and keep a friendship with friends who live so far away and live their own lives with new friends. We tried to make to keep in contact but the communication between two sides decreased year after year till there was no contact at all.

I was always relieved that I had an older brother because I always knew that no matter what he was always going to be my best friend, my most trusted friend, and a friend who's bond will never be broken. Still I missed the entire group, in the case of friends more is definitely better. The great thing about friends is that you can always make more, but you can never replace friends that you have had since child hood. Child hood friends in a lot of cases spend more time with you than your own family members, they know your history and secrets, and in a way help shape the person you will become because they have an influence on you at a small and impressionable age.

Since than my brother has made new friends, and I have made new friends. I'm not sure how my brother feels about his friends but while I like my new friends I'm not sure I can call them anything other than acquaintances. Sure we have a good time when we are around but would I be able to count on him if ever needed? Could I ever trust him with information I need to be kept secret? Does he even really know me all that well? I'm not sure you can call some one your friend unless you are completely comfortable around them and I certainly am not. I find myself holding back my opinions on certain subjects so as not to offend or hurt my new friends. I find my self struggling to make conversation which I never had to do with my old friends because we had so much in common that we could go on for hours. But than again maybe my lack of close friends is my fault, my brother has made quite a few close friends since we grown apart from our old friends and I'm sure my old friends have moved on as well. Why I'm I still clinging to old friends that I haven't seen in several years when others have easily moved on. I was the youngest of the group and I'm sure it has a lot to do with it, I never had to make friends because I always remembered having them. Its possible that I'm just not that out going, I'm more reserved and quite with people I'm not familiar with. I've always hated change as it never really worked out for me, but I really think its time to embrace it.

Blog 7

O'Brien's story "how to tell true war story" is written like a guide for readers on the ins and outs of war. This piece was oddly written in the sense that it wasn't a single story but a collection of stories with little bits of commentary thrown in every so often. I think the truth O'Brien was trying to illustrate with these stories was that as he said in his commentary "A true war story never has a moral".

The narrator tells stories of Vietnam and the brutality and violence of that war, but also that the blurred truth from the war. I think what O'Brien is trying to say is that many war stories are exaggerated or spiced up for the benefit of the audience to get the overall point of the authors across to the reader. Most people who have never been to war can not imagine the horrors of it, yes everyone knows its terrible but you can never get the entire picture unless your there. I think O'Brien exaggerating the war stories to make the impact of the war hit home with those who have never been to war perfectly reasonable. If the stories would not have been as graphic or detailed I doubt the reader would remember a single thing about that piece 10 minutes after he read it. But because it was so graphic and detailed it is almost assured that the reader will retain a lot of what he just read. Now the question is if it is truthful or not.

Personally I don't think its deceitful or lying at all, if the overall point is still truthful I have no problem with the author being creative in getting his desired emotion out of the reader.

Blog 6

I plan on pattering my writing on Orwell, my piece will be about a incident that happened when I was younger that seemed ordinary to the outside world but was a major deal for myself.

My piece will be about how I got older through the years I kept losing more and more friends. Most people didn't know I cared so much because I never talked about it or made a big deal about it but I did feel bad for a long time inside. Especially when I passed their house or areas where we played, i would immediately wonder what they were doing. I made friends later in life but I never considered them good friends like the ones I made as a child.