Author’s Note: This is a personal narrative about the roller coaster I went on at Universal Studios in Orlando. In this piece I am trying to improve my vocabulary by using more advanced words.
Drops, upside downs, corkscrews on every turn. I stared at the tracks, the carts swerving along.
“Hey Hannah, let’s go on this ride,” my dad demandes, but I am sceptical.
“Dad, I don't want to. I don’t like roller coasters.
He looks at me, and begins to talk. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
A thousand thoughts flood through my mind, and I am about to say something when I realize my cousin is talking to me. My dad also tried to persuade him to ride, but he turned down the offer as well.
“I’ll go if you go Hannah,” he exclaimed. I think for a few seconds, and sighed.
“Fine,” I heaved, slouching over, walking toward the ride’s line.
My dad patted me on the back. “It’ll be fun Hannah. You have nothing to worry about.”
* * * * * * * *
There was only about a five minute wait, so walking up there took ages. When we reach the actual ride, dozens of people stand in line waiting to get on the carts. My heart in thumping inside my chest, and my palms are sweating.
Finally, it was our turn to board. I sat in between my cousin and dad, my heart pounding harder and harder. I push the bar down over my body, feeling trapped.
The ride takes off, going straight up a long, steep hill. I grip onto my dads hand, his hand beginning to turn purple. The hill takes forever to climb, and I shut my eyes, preparing for the worst.
Zoom! The coater flew down, spinning upside down. The air whooshed at me, my hair flying back. We went around the loop, and I opened an eye. I saw a corkscrew coming up and I thought: What’s going to happen?
We blast through the corkscrew, the carts twisting and turning. Screams erupted, and I smiled. This ride wasn’t so bad, I thought.
Throughout the entire trip, I went on many more rides: Space Mountain, Tower of Terror, Rockin’ Roller Coaster, and many more. But Dragon’s Challenge was by far the most exhilarating. It was my favorite.
Friday, November 30, 2012
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Early Risers
Author's Note: This is a tag - team story I wrote with a couple other people for a writing group.
The suitcase weighed heavily in my hands, cutting into the grip of my palm, and began to slip as I hurried my way to the station. The train had just arrived, and the passengers waiting to board the late afternoon connection to New York crowded the platform, organizing themselves into a line under the wooden veranda. My overcoat began to feel too hot to wear, even on an autumn afternoon.
Finally I threw my case onto the loading platform, and reached into my pocket for my wallet. I slowly walked up to the stairs, readying my mind for the journey and the new beginning I was receiving in New York. I had only what was most important to me, and the little money I had saved in the past month to pay for my one way train ticket.
The people in front of me were filing into the train, and soon I was walking up into the train into the first piece to my new beginning. The seats were a deep red color, and the fabric looked as if it was as soft as silk. I sat down in a seat toward the front, and began to unload my heavy bag, the bulging leather seeming as if it were about to burst.
Sighing in relief, I stared out the dirty window with a deep sense of accomplishment. Time seemed to fly by after that, as the train eventually pulled out of the station, starting slow and smooth. I watched as I left my hometown and my past, the colors blurring together as the locomotive picked up speed. Here is to new beginnings, I thought proudly, and staring out, I found that I was glad to be gone, separated from past tragedies.
No one wanted to see Chicago in their rearview mirror more than I did. As I watched the landscape slowly shift the further the train surged ahead, I began to wonder what new life in New York could bring. My eyes felt heavy and I slowly drifted off to the gentle hum of the engine. The smoke from the coal burning car seeping slowly into the room, causing a dark fog for a moment before another passenger rose to open a few windows.
My heart began to race a bit; the smoke brought back memories of why I was leaving Chicago, and why I was hoping to never return to that city of sludge, that railway ridden cesspool on the Great Lake Michigan. I wondered momentarily which was worse: the literal pollution of the city and its snaking river that wound a puddle of filth, or the human corruption of politics and business. I had to get my start in the industry somewhere, so it served its purpose, but now I was moving on to better things.
The job awaiting my arrival in New York was one of promise, and I let myself exhale again, dispelling Chicago and all its memories from my mind. With this final release of stress, I allowed myself to fall into a deep sleep, dreaming of the memories I could make in New York, not the nightmares I made in Chicago.
I jolted awake to the screech of the brakes, as the train came to a shaky stop. My first instinct was to look out the window, hoping to see what lay ahead of me, but I quickly realized that we were enveloped in the dark of the train station.
I was aching to get a glimpse of New York, but I knew I had to wait until everyone had got off the train. I sat in my seat, my hands clamped together and my cold fingers shaking. I put on my hat, and reloaded my suitcase, for it was coming close to my turn to leave this train. I stood up, and walked down the center aisle of the train. My steps were heavy, and I wanted to go fast. I wanted to see my new world.
As soon as I took my final step off the train, I knew I had made the right choice. Yet people were bustling around, huddled together trying to make their way through this marvelous, and massive city. I was just like them, and the moment of relief evaporated just as quickly as it had come. I slowly began to shove through the crowds, but just once, I turned around to watch the train slowly pull out of the station once more, destroying my last connection to Chicago, and all the dark memories with it.
I gathered my belongings and began to look for a map. I had no sense of direction but started to wander into the massive city. I stumbled upon a man amongst the crowds playing a violin softly. He reminded me of someone I used to see in Chicago, and it sparked a hurtful memory that I try to keep buried inside me.
The song he played reminded me of the last evening we spent together, the wonderful meal we shared, and the difficult words I had to hear. There was no future for us, so there could be no future for me in Chicago. I smiled at the street musician, dropped a spare nickel in his box, and continued up the street.
I knew at least that the hotel where my reservation was being held was a place facing Central Park -- a wonderful development and famous all over the country. Since I had been on my feet most of the morning, I decided to hail a cabbey. I turned to face the traffic, and simply raised my hand when suddenly a horse drawn carriage pulled up, the driver of which, tipping his hat in my direction. “Central Park please,” I called out, and stepped up into the carriage.
We rode in silence, as I took in the sight of the huge city. I was stunned to see all of the buildings reaching into the sky, finally being lost behind the clouds. The scenery gave me an odd feeling, like I had seen it all before. It finally hit me, and I felt the cold wash over me. I felt as if the world has just fallen on top of me. I had seen all
of this before. In Chicago.
I stared down at my feet, not wanting to have to look at the buildings that reminded me so much of home. The cabby soon came to a slow stop in front of a magnificent hotel that was within walking distance from Central Park. My jaw dropped in awe while glaring at the hotel. It seemed too good to be true. I stepped out of the carriage, tipped the driver a couple of dollars, and continued toward what would be my home for the next month or so, just until I found myself a new home.
I grasped onto the handle and swung the door wide, passing through with my head down. When I looked up again, I was under a huge dome with a chandelier high overhead, and a small lobby desk in front. To the left and back I spotted the elevator, and to the right of the desk and back what I assumed be a door to a small food area.
I briskly walked over to the desk, stating my name in my business voice. The man working the counter was a tall man, with a round beard on his chin and grey drab spectacles resting on his pointed nose.
“Room 254” the man said gruffly, and he placed a card key in front of me.
I swiped the key up quickly and made way towards the elevator, dragging my luggage with me. Pressing the button labeled number three, I stood tall as my stomach flew. A pleasant ding alerted me of my arrival, and my stomach fell back into place as I stepped out, glancing both left and right at the signs. 250-270 was off to my left, and I took off speedily down the corridor, stopping in front of the bronze letters 254 on the door to my room.
I placed the card in, and pushed, taking the card out as I did. The door swung open silently, and I stood in astonishment at the room that was l in front of me. Yet this seemed far too elegant and large to be called a room. A short and narrow hallway led into the main room, where the room opened up, in both height and in width. The walls in the main room were stretching far to each side, with a window for the far wall. The window was large and magnificent, making up the entire back wall. Couches and coffee tables were scattered across the polished wood floor, and there was a small kitchen just to the left, completing the room.
Yet none of these things had me mesmerized. I was drawn automatically to the view, my jaw agape in wonder as I gazed out at Central Park view. Behind that I could see the city, and I could only picture what this scene might look like at night.
I undid the top button of my starched collar, and fell back on the bed. The light overhead shone with a brilliance of sparkle, radiating from the bejeweled shards of crystal suspended by golden fasteners arranged in a geometric pattern so complex that the light against the ceiling formed cascading shapes like snowflakes of light and shadow, reminiscent of the blinding snowfalls of Chicago, the driving life taking storms that swept like Nature’s purifying hand, wiping the slate clean for another season to be born again when the spring thaw would release the land from the harness of winter. It was as if no matter how hard I tried, Chicago wouldn’t leave my mind.
I lay in my bed, mind spinning, pondering the world. There wasn’t a topic in the world that wasn’t spinning in my head, and slowly all the thoughts drifted together, even as my brain struggled to pull them apart, and I drifted away from the world, until I finally fell asleep.
The suitcase weighed heavily in my hands, cutting into the grip of my palm, and began to slip as I hurried my way to the station. The train had just arrived, and the passengers waiting to board the late afternoon connection to New York crowded the platform, organizing themselves into a line under the wooden veranda. My overcoat began to feel too hot to wear, even on an autumn afternoon.
Finally I threw my case onto the loading platform, and reached into my pocket for my wallet. I slowly walked up to the stairs, readying my mind for the journey and the new beginning I was receiving in New York. I had only what was most important to me, and the little money I had saved in the past month to pay for my one way train ticket.
The people in front of me were filing into the train, and soon I was walking up into the train into the first piece to my new beginning. The seats were a deep red color, and the fabric looked as if it was as soft as silk. I sat down in a seat toward the front, and began to unload my heavy bag, the bulging leather seeming as if it were about to burst.
Sighing in relief, I stared out the dirty window with a deep sense of accomplishment. Time seemed to fly by after that, as the train eventually pulled out of the station, starting slow and smooth. I watched as I left my hometown and my past, the colors blurring together as the locomotive picked up speed. Here is to new beginnings, I thought proudly, and staring out, I found that I was glad to be gone, separated from past tragedies.
No one wanted to see Chicago in their rearview mirror more than I did. As I watched the landscape slowly shift the further the train surged ahead, I began to wonder what new life in New York could bring. My eyes felt heavy and I slowly drifted off to the gentle hum of the engine. The smoke from the coal burning car seeping slowly into the room, causing a dark fog for a moment before another passenger rose to open a few windows.
My heart began to race a bit; the smoke brought back memories of why I was leaving Chicago, and why I was hoping to never return to that city of sludge, that railway ridden cesspool on the Great Lake Michigan. I wondered momentarily which was worse: the literal pollution of the city and its snaking river that wound a puddle of filth, or the human corruption of politics and business. I had to get my start in the industry somewhere, so it served its purpose, but now I was moving on to better things.
The job awaiting my arrival in New York was one of promise, and I let myself exhale again, dispelling Chicago and all its memories from my mind. With this final release of stress, I allowed myself to fall into a deep sleep, dreaming of the memories I could make in New York, not the nightmares I made in Chicago.
I jolted awake to the screech of the brakes, as the train came to a shaky stop. My first instinct was to look out the window, hoping to see what lay ahead of me, but I quickly realized that we were enveloped in the dark of the train station.
I was aching to get a glimpse of New York, but I knew I had to wait until everyone had got off the train. I sat in my seat, my hands clamped together and my cold fingers shaking. I put on my hat, and reloaded my suitcase, for it was coming close to my turn to leave this train. I stood up, and walked down the center aisle of the train. My steps were heavy, and I wanted to go fast. I wanted to see my new world.
As soon as I took my final step off the train, I knew I had made the right choice. Yet people were bustling around, huddled together trying to make their way through this marvelous, and massive city. I was just like them, and the moment of relief evaporated just as quickly as it had come. I slowly began to shove through the crowds, but just once, I turned around to watch the train slowly pull out of the station once more, destroying my last connection to Chicago, and all the dark memories with it.
I gathered my belongings and began to look for a map. I had no sense of direction but started to wander into the massive city. I stumbled upon a man amongst the crowds playing a violin softly. He reminded me of someone I used to see in Chicago, and it sparked a hurtful memory that I try to keep buried inside me.
The song he played reminded me of the last evening we spent together, the wonderful meal we shared, and the difficult words I had to hear. There was no future for us, so there could be no future for me in Chicago. I smiled at the street musician, dropped a spare nickel in his box, and continued up the street.
I knew at least that the hotel where my reservation was being held was a place facing Central Park -- a wonderful development and famous all over the country. Since I had been on my feet most of the morning, I decided to hail a cabbey. I turned to face the traffic, and simply raised my hand when suddenly a horse drawn carriage pulled up, the driver of which, tipping his hat in my direction. “Central Park please,” I called out, and stepped up into the carriage.
We rode in silence, as I took in the sight of the huge city. I was stunned to see all of the buildings reaching into the sky, finally being lost behind the clouds. The scenery gave me an odd feeling, like I had seen it all before. It finally hit me, and I felt the cold wash over me. I felt as if the world has just fallen on top of me. I had seen all
of this before. In Chicago.
I stared down at my feet, not wanting to have to look at the buildings that reminded me so much of home. The cabby soon came to a slow stop in front of a magnificent hotel that was within walking distance from Central Park. My jaw dropped in awe while glaring at the hotel. It seemed too good to be true. I stepped out of the carriage, tipped the driver a couple of dollars, and continued toward what would be my home for the next month or so, just until I found myself a new home.
I grasped onto the handle and swung the door wide, passing through with my head down. When I looked up again, I was under a huge dome with a chandelier high overhead, and a small lobby desk in front. To the left and back I spotted the elevator, and to the right of the desk and back what I assumed be a door to a small food area.
I briskly walked over to the desk, stating my name in my business voice. The man working the counter was a tall man, with a round beard on his chin and grey drab spectacles resting on his pointed nose.
“Room 254” the man said gruffly, and he placed a card key in front of me.
I swiped the key up quickly and made way towards the elevator, dragging my luggage with me. Pressing the button labeled number three, I stood tall as my stomach flew. A pleasant ding alerted me of my arrival, and my stomach fell back into place as I stepped out, glancing both left and right at the signs. 250-270 was off to my left, and I took off speedily down the corridor, stopping in front of the bronze letters 254 on the door to my room.
I placed the card in, and pushed, taking the card out as I did. The door swung open silently, and I stood in astonishment at the room that was l in front of me. Yet this seemed far too elegant and large to be called a room. A short and narrow hallway led into the main room, where the room opened up, in both height and in width. The walls in the main room were stretching far to each side, with a window for the far wall. The window was large and magnificent, making up the entire back wall. Couches and coffee tables were scattered across the polished wood floor, and there was a small kitchen just to the left, completing the room.
Yet none of these things had me mesmerized. I was drawn automatically to the view, my jaw agape in wonder as I gazed out at Central Park view. Behind that I could see the city, and I could only picture what this scene might look like at night.
I undid the top button of my starched collar, and fell back on the bed. The light overhead shone with a brilliance of sparkle, radiating from the bejeweled shards of crystal suspended by golden fasteners arranged in a geometric pattern so complex that the light against the ceiling formed cascading shapes like snowflakes of light and shadow, reminiscent of the blinding snowfalls of Chicago, the driving life taking storms that swept like Nature’s purifying hand, wiping the slate clean for another season to be born again when the spring thaw would release the land from the harness of winter. It was as if no matter how hard I tried, Chicago wouldn’t leave my mind.
I lay in my bed, mind spinning, pondering the world. There wasn’t a topic in the world that wasn’t spinning in my head, and slowly all the thoughts drifted together, even as my brain struggled to pull them apart, and I drifted away from the world, until I finally fell asleep.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
My Birthday
Authors Note: This is a personal narrative about one of the best days ever.
My birthday.
My birthday.
I woke up this morning at 6:25, my alarm clock blaring next to my eardrum. I groaned wanting to sleep more, but somehow my tired arm made it’s way to the screaming clock and snoozed it. I rolled over in my bed, not wanting to leave the comfort. But I know I had to go to school so I pushed through the pain. I waddled down stairs, darkness surrounding me. When I turned the lights on, two large helium filled balloons were tied to the chair.
“Happy birthday!” my mom exclaimed from behind me. I grinned, and sat down on the soft cushy chair as my mom poured me a bowl of cereal. Today was going to be a great day, I thought to myself.
As soon as I walked into school, I was sent to the cafeteria to do a four hour Explore test. My smile fell into a frown. I walked into the cafeteria, but at least a bunch of my friends were going to take the test too. I even got to sit by some of them. After the dreaded four hours (which was actually way better than I imagined it to be) was complete, I stayed in the lunchroom for lunch. Everyone at my lunch table was surrounding me, happy birthday’s coming from every direction. Gracie almost made Mr. Roehl lead the entire lunchroom in song.
Soon lunch was over, I walked with Gracie back up to the Academy room, a clutching large bag stuffed with candy. My cubicle was splattered with sticky notes, little words of encouragement and humor scribbled on. A little trophy stood in the corner, and paper clips linked together acted like streamers draped around my desk. Another sticky note read, “Love, Annika, Kathryn and Ally.
Annika and Kathryn were in a different period, and Ally was in Academy, but she wasn't in the room. So I thanked them by writing them a little note with my sticky notes.
That afternoon, I got picked up after basketball practice. The first thing I saw when I walked inside the house was giant, colorful (and sort-of sloppy) letters taped to the railing. Seconds later, Hailey and Henry popped up from the couch screaming, "Happy birthday!".
I quickly tore through the few presents I had received, including a soft, cozy jacket to wear for the Varsity games.
That night for dinner we went to Olive Garden, where I had a scrumptious soup and delicious entree. I also got a little dessert, a lone candle right in the middle. I quickly blew out the candle and proceeded to eat my treat.
That afternoon, I got picked up after basketball practice. The first thing I saw when I walked inside the house was giant, colorful (and sort-of sloppy) letters taped to the railing. Seconds later, Hailey and Henry popped up from the couch screaming, "Happy birthday!".
I quickly tore through the few presents I had received, including a soft, cozy jacket to wear for the Varsity games.
That night for dinner we went to Olive Garden, where I had a scrumptious soup and delicious entree. I also got a little dessert, a lone candle right in the middle. I quickly blew out the candle and proceeded to eat my treat.
When I had woken up this morning, I honestly thought it was going to be a no-fun birthday. My dad was out of town, I had to take an explore test, and I was super tired from waking up so early.
But my day had turned out to be great! It was one of the best birthdays ever.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Winter's Day
Authors Note: The task at hand was to choose a picture that relates to you, write a short story on how it relates to you, and then draw another picture that is similar to both the museum's painting and your writing piece.
The sculpture I related to is Edge of England by Cornelia Parker. It somehow reminded me of a snowstorm, the massive rock fragments replacing the tiny snowflakes. Also, this story is not true and has never happened, though it is very likely that it could.
In this writing piece, I am trying to improve my vocabulary and use figurative language.
Edge of England
by Cornelia Parker
_______________________________________________________
Winter's Day
By: Hannah Antczak
Winter's Day, 2012
* * * * * * * * * * *
The sculpture I related to is Edge of England by Cornelia Parker. It somehow reminded me of a snowstorm, the massive rock fragments replacing the tiny snowflakes. Also, this story is not true and has never happened, though it is very likely that it could.
In this writing piece, I am trying to improve my vocabulary and use figurative language.
Edge of England
by Cornelia Parker
Edge of England, 1999
Chalk, wire, and wire mesh
Cornelia Parker excavates the layers of meaning in the unusual objects and uncommon processes that inform her art.
For Edge of England, the artist collected chalk fragments from a major rock fall at the Beachy Head section of the Dover cliffs, located on the southeastern edge of England. She suspended the chalk from thin wires to form a curtain wall that reinterprets what nature had destroyed.
The Dover cliffs have a special significance and their associations are rich. During World War II, the last views British soldiers had of their country were of the white cliffs.
As such this sculpture is a symbol of a nation as well as a medication on the human condition. Parker has states, "I like to resurrect things that have a kind of violent history. I enjoy creating a frozen moment, a quiet thing, out of a violent occasion."
(This information is on display in the museum.)
Winter's Day
By: Hannah Antczak
Winter's Day, 2012
“Come on sis!” Henry called while running through the rows and rows of evergreens.
It was that time of year. Hot cocoa with gooey marshmallows, blankets of sparkling snow, freshly baked cookies with chocolate chips oozing out, and warm fires blazing and cracking in the fireplace. Winter.
It was a family tradition to get a real tree every year. Today was a perfect winter day: not too cold, and the soft snow was sprinkled on the ground. So that morning we piled the family into my mom’s van and drove off to look for a tree.
I smiled, my cheeks red as roses and my nose a cherry. I sprinted through the heavy snow, my boots making holes as deep as the Grand Canyon.
“Ahh!” Henry screamed as I chase him, my frostbitten fingers reaching out to grab his jacket.
“I’ve got you!” I declared as I grab his scarf. My fingers slowly crawl toward his stomach.
Henry’s eyes widened. “Please don’t Hannah,” he croaked.
But it was too late. My fingers had already reached his stomach and I began to tickle him.
“Stop Hannah!” he laughed, his little arms flailing around.
A few feet away, I can hear my parents arguing about what Christmas tree we should get.
Henry somehow escaped my tight grasp and runs to where my parents are standing.
“I like this tree Mama,” he said sweetly. He turns to my dad and glares. “This is the one,” he demands, with tilted eyebrows and slightly shut eyes.
“Mom!” my sister shouts, somewhere in the distance. “Come here!”
We follow the noise, turning right and left, her voice getting louder and softer.
After a few minutes of searching, I found her in the way back, surrounded by giant branches of green and brown.
“Found her,” I panted, out of breath.
* * * * * * * * * * *
After a few minutes of searching, I found her in the way back, surrounded by giant branches of green and brown.
“Found her,” I panted, out of breath.
My dad, mom and brother soon came sprinting, also out of breath.
“What are you doing over here Hailey?” my dad asked, a tad of anger in his tone.
Hailey was standing by a huge tree, big majestic branches spaced evenly apart.
This was the one.* * * * * * * * * * *
I helped my parents lug the tree on top of the van, while Hailey and Henry were bursting with joy and shouting Jingle Bells. When the tree was fully tied to the vehicle with twine, I hopped into the car and joined my siblings obnoxious singing.
The whole car ride was filled with yelling, screaming, and the occasional “be quiet!” from my parents. Soon I became sick of singing, and I found myself gazing out the window. Everything looked so beautiful. There were carolers going door to door, spreading their hearty Christmas spirit. Young children, all bundled up, struggled to roll the balls of snow for their lopsided snowman’s head.
In what seemed like a second, we were pulling into our icy driveway, Hailey and Henry now chanting Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.
I hopped out of the van, ready to help my parents untie the tree. Hailey and Henry followed close behind, but instead they went into the backyard and hurled snowballs at each other.
I dug my fingers into the twine, attempting to get all the knots out. As soon as the last knot was untied, little snowflakes started falling from the dreary sky. Henry started spinning, trying to catch one on his tongue.
My mom laughed, and I couldn’t help but laugh with her. He looked so cute spinning around in his thick puffy jacket and wool hat.
But soon the snowflakes were getting bigger and bigger, and were falling harder and harder. Hailey quickly dashed for the garage door, but Henry was still twirling in the snow. My dad went and picked him up, slung him over his shoulder, and carried him inside.
* * * * * * * * * * *
I huddled in front of the warm fire, a blanket around me like a cocoon. Hailey and Henry to my left.
“Hot chocolate all around!” my mom announced, walking into the TV room from the kitchen.
She was carrying a tray: five steaming cups and large bag of of mini marshmallows neatly placed on it
“Yay!” Henry exclaimed while clapping.
My dad was behind my mom, holding a plate filled with chocolate chip cookies right from the oven.
I chose the Santa mug, grabbed a handful of the mini marshmallows, and dumped them in my cup, landing with a satisfying plop. I reached for the cookies as well, the soft, delicious batter and creamy chocolate chips were melting in my mouth. I swaddled back into my blanket, and sipped from my mug.
Freshly fallen snow was on the ground outside, and I was drinking hot cocoa in front of the fire. The scent of pine needles and cookies filled the air, and the tree sparkled in the living room. Nothing could be better on a cold winter’s day. At least to me it couldn't.
Art Museum Trip
Authors Note: Today, a couple of students and I went to the Milwaukee Art Museum. Check out our pics!
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| Outside View |
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| Hello Museum! |
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| Chilling... |
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| Yum! |
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| Solly's Grille |
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| Willow Tree |
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| Edge of England |
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| Janitor Statue |
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| Art goes to the movies |
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| Inside the museum |
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Pictures
Author's Note: Recently, we were assigned a project. We were to pick objects that were brought in from fellow classmates, take a few pictures of each, and reflect.
Winter is also special to other people for various reasons. Some athletes look forward to winter for the Winter Olympics that take place every four years.
The Winter Olympics were first held in Chamonix, France in 1924. The idea came from Swedish event called the Nordic Games, orginized by General Viktor Gustaf Balck and held in 1901. These games were again held in 1903, 1905, and every four years after that up until 1926.
Sports include: Alpine skiing, Biathlon, Bobsleigh, Cross-Country skiing, Curling, Figure skating, Freestyle skiing, Ice hockey, Luge, Nordic combined, Short track speed skating, Skeleton, Ski jumping, Snowboarding, and Speed skating. All but Nordic combined and Ski jumping allow both men and women to compete.
Some of the more well know athletes from the USA include: Shawn White (snowboarding), Lindsey Vonn (alpine skiing), and Apolo Ohno (short track speed skating). Shawn White also skateboards, which is probably how he got so good at snowboarding.
Only these twelve countries have been in every single Winter Olympic Games: Austria, Canada, Finland, France, Great Britain, Hungary, Italy, Norway, Poland, Sweden, Switzerland and the United States. Austria, Canada, Finland, Norway, Sweden and the United States have earned medals every time, but only the USA has won gold all the time.
The United States have been the host of the games four times: Squaw Valley Ski Resort in Olympic Valley, California in 1960; Salt Lake City, Utah in 2002, and Lake Placid, New York in both 1932 and 1980.
The Winter Olympic Games have never been held in the Southern Hemisphere due to the warm climate.
Some of the more well know athletes from the USA include: Shawn White (snowboarding), Lindsey Vonn (alpine skiing), and Apolo Ohno (short track speed skating). Shawn White also skateboards, which is probably how he got so good at snowboarding.
Only these twelve countries have been in every single Winter Olympic Games: Austria, Canada, Finland, France, Great Britain, Hungary, Italy, Norway, Poland, Sweden, Switzerland and the United States. Austria, Canada, Finland, Norway, Sweden and the United States have earned medals every time, but only the USA has won gold all the time.
The United States have been the host of the games four times: Squaw Valley Ski Resort in Olympic Valley, California in 1960; Salt Lake City, Utah in 2002, and Lake Placid, New York in both 1932 and 1980.
The Winter Olympic Games have never been held in the Southern Hemisphere due to the warm climate.
The 2014 Winter Olympics are expected to be held in Sochi, Russia and will take place from February 7th to February 23rd.
Quote: This quote reminds me of dreams. Which, of course, is quite reasonable, considering the quote consists of the word "Dream". Dreams are some what like movies, but, your are the only one who can view it.
You may not know it, but the average person has about three to five dreams every night. Some people can even have up to seven. Dreams very in length, but you are more likely to remember the dream if you are awoke during the REM (rapid eye movement) Stage.
The REM Stage is when brain activity is high and seems to be awake. Dreams do happen outside of the stage of sleep, but they aren't as clear.
As the night goes on, dreams will tend to get longer. Dreams can be up to hours long, and can be as short as a couple of seconds. During a full eight hours of sleep, about two hours of it is spent dreaming.
Greeks and Romans often thought that dreams were messages from the gods that were predictions for the future.
There are many different types of dreams such as: frightening, exciting, magical, melancholic, adventurous and more.
There are some other types of dreams too. A nightmare is the same as a dream, except nightmares cause negative emotions and are usually scary.
A daydream is also like a dream, but they occur while you are awake. Usually daydreams are happy.
Dreams are not in your control. You can't choose what you dream about. You may fall asleep thinking about a certain subject, but that doesn't mean you will dream about it. Dreams also can give you inspiration, ideas, or creativity.
Monkey: This monkey that was dangling from the ceiling reminds me of simply monkey's This stuffed creature also got me thinking about what they eat, their predators, and so on.The largest type of monkeys are Baboons and Mandrills. The males of both species weigh around 30 to 36 kilograms. The Pygmy Marmoset species are the smallest, and they weigh about 113 to 119 grams.
Mandrills are endangered. Pygmy Marmosets and Baboons are currently not, though scientists are worried about the Marmosets because they are often sold as pets.
Sometimes, monkeys are used in experiments and even movies. The naughty monkey in Night at the Museum is played by Crystal. Able and Baker (both girls) were the first monkeys sent into space on May 28, 1959 that came back alive.
Able died a few months after, and Baker lived on for about two dozen more years.
There are also cartoon monkeys, such as Abu from Aladdin.
The lifespan of a monkey depends on the species. Squirrel monkeys and Howler monkeys life around fifteen to twenty years. Howler monkeys are often hunted and their habitats are destroyed, which can greatly decrease their lifespan. Mandrills can live up to forty five years.
A monkeys body is similar to people, with arms, legs, feet and hands. Monkeys are very flexible, allowing them to easily grab and climb branches. But monkeys cannot swing from tree to tree like apes because their shoulders not built for swinging.
Monkeys eat a variety of different things. Bugs, fruit, seeds, roots and herbs. The Pygmy Marmoset drink sap from trees by drilling holes into them.
A monkeys main predator is, surprisingly... humans.
Monkeys have very interesting relationships with us humans. Sometimes, the animals are kept as pets. Other times, we are rude to them by killing the monkeys for some silly reason, and in rare occasions, monkeys will attack the humans.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Fall DWA
Author's Note: I don't know why I wrote this story, besides the fact that it was for an assignment. The idea just somehow came to me and I was instantly interested.
Rain was pouring from the gloomy sky in buckets. The dark clouds were making their way toward the gleaming moon.
Rain was pouring from the gloomy sky in buckets. The dark clouds were making their way toward the gleaming moon.
My little brother Daniel came crawling into my room.
“Sis!” he jabbered.
“What is it Danny!?” I groaned, half awake.
“Loud!” he shouted.
Then he stomped is tiny feet on the ground.
Thud.
I glared at him.
“Boom,” he whispered.
One look at his pitiful little face, his big blue eyes and
wispy blond hair, I just couldn’t say no.
“Okay…” I started.
“Yeah sis!” he shouted as he tried to climb into my
bed. I grabbed his clammy little hands
and pulled him up.
“Yeah yeah yeah!” he sang as he jumped around on the plush
mattress.
“Daniel Michael Jones!” I scolded. “Mom, dad and Carson are trying to sleep!”
“Not anymore,” a voice echoed through the dark and open
hallways.
Uh oh. I gulped.
“Sorry?” I called out.
“You woke me up,” she snarled. "You KNOW how much I don’t like getting
woken up.”
“Sis! Sis!” Daniel yelled as he tried to get off my
bed.
There was a dull sound, and everything else was a blur.
“Ow,” came a little voice from a few feet down. I slowly peered my head over the side of the
bed.
“Hi,” he giggled.
“Oh Danny,” Carson exclaimed as she stroll toward him. He was laughing hysterically.
She reached to pick him up from his helpless position on the
ground.
“Help,” he whimpered.
He held out his arms and waved his hands.
She put her hands under his armpits and lifted him up.
“Time for you to go back to bed!” she said enthusiasticly.
“No!” Daniel yelled.
Little tears began to form in his bright eyes.
“Well too bad!” she exclaimed.
Daniel flailed his arms and legs, struggling to get out of
Carson’s firm grasp.
“Help sis help!” he cried.
“Sorry bud,” I replied.
“You’re out of luck.”
He began bawling.
“AHHHHH!” Carson screamed from Daniel’s room.
I rushed into the animal filled room. It was pitch black. I tried flipping the switch, but the power
was out.
“Where are you Carson?” I screamed. My heart was pounding hard.
“Over here!” I heard
a voice coming from the right.
“Carson!” I screamed as I dashed toward the corner. Then, out of the blue I was falling down a dark
hole, my scream echoing through the darkness.
* * * * * * * *
I landed on the soft mushy ground.
“Hello?” I called. I
tried to stand.
“Sis?” a voice echoed.
“Danny!” I shouted.
I dashed toward where I thought I heard the voice.
That’s when I felt an arm.
“Daniel? Carson?” I
whispered as softly as I could.
“Sis!!!!” he shouted.
“Shush Danny!” Carson
exclaimed.
“Sorry sis,” he replied.
“Where are we? “ I asked Carson.
She froze.
“Carson?? What are
you doing??” I cried.
“I heard something,” she answered. “Something strange.”
“Carson, you’re crazy.
There is no noise…”
My heart skipped a beat when I heard rustling leaves.
“Hello?” Carson questioned.
Silence.
“Anyone there?” I yelled.
Silence.
“It was probably just my imagination,” Carson assured.
More rustling.
I shook my head. “Definitely
not your imaginat…”
My sentence got cut off when we realized something.
Daniel wasn’t with us.
* * * * * * * *
“Daniel! Where are
you?” Carson and I shouted.
We searched through the luscious woods for Daniel.
“Daniel! Answer us!”
I cried.
“Oh this is bad, this is really bad,” Carson was mumbling.
Continuing our search for Daniel, we kept walking, even
though there was a searing pain in my leg and something was in my eye.
“Sis! Help!” I heard
in the distance.
I turned my head to see Carson staring right at me. I stared into her dark green eyes as we
quietly spoke in unison. “Daniel.”
She took off in a sprint, and I bolted ahead right behind
her.
“Danny! Answer us!”
“Help sis help!” came the voice.
“This way,” Carson said as she pointed to my left.
I quickly turned and ran ahead.
“Danny!” Carson screamed.
“Sis!” yelled the voice.
It seemed much closer now.
“AHHHHH!” Carson shrieked.
“What!? What is it?”
I questioned.
“Ha-ha sis scared,” Daniel giggled with his hand on Carson’s
foot.
“Daniel, that is not funny,” I tried to scold him, but I
began to laugh too.
“Where did you run of too Danny?” Carson asked him.
“Here! Here!” he
yelled excitedly.
“Come on let’s go,” I said to Carson.
Carson began to follow Daniel. I trotted right behind.
"See sis!" he announced.
"Woah," Carson remarked.
"See sis!" he announced.
"Woah," Carson remarked.
There was a giant porthole in the ground.
“Go!” Daniel
exclaimed.
"Come on," Carson ordered. "Let's take a look."
I gradually walked up to the massive hole and leaned ove.
"I wonder what it does," Carson implored.
"Me too," I answered.
"Sis go in!" Daniel asserted.
"What?" Carson demanded
"Come on," Carson ordered. "Let's take a look."
I gradually walked up to the massive hole and leaned ove.
"I wonder what it does," Carson implored.
"Me too," I answered.
"Sis go in!" Daniel asserted.
"What?" Carson demanded
"Watch me sis!" he said to me
He walked up to Carson and squeezed her to a pulp.
Daniel pushed her in.
“Bye bye!” he called to her as she was sucked into the
porthole.
I grabbed Daniel and jumped in the porthole following
Carson.
“Wee!” Daniel giggled.
I just smiled.
* * * * * * * *
“Sis’s bed!” Daniel yelled as he jumped.
“Huh?” Carson asked, rubbing her head.
“Were home,” I exclaimed with a grin.
Carson smiled back.
“Exactly where we should be.”
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