Personal Narrative-A Textual Analysis

Throughout the conversation, Susan did not inform me that the home was still in First Look and not open to investors at this time. Susan did not highlight any features of the home, nor did she talk about the neighborhood or the surrounding area. When asked, Susan paused to reference the property file and stated, "In looking at the pictures it appears that it needs interior paint, carpet, appliances, and a few windows, which the previous seller must have taken." She stated, "I don't know why they have to remove things from the homes." I asked, "Do you have offers?" She paused to check the property file and answered, "No offers." I asked, "Is the property behind the home farmland?" She paused to reference the property file and replied, "It appears

When I look back on these last weeks I have to smile. I have to say that this class has been a much needed and long awaited step toward reaching a higher goal. I have not been to school in thirty-seven years. I had to leave school when I was fifteen years old. I was a fairly good student and loved to read. I never stopped learning, I never stopped trying to improve, however, I didn’t have any way of knowing whether what I was self-teaching was correct, and whether or not I was improving. I didn’t have a computer, the internet, google, wikipedia, or any of the tools I feel so lucky to be able to utilize now.

“I can’t feel my feet, guys” is what I said to my friends when I first discovered something was wrong. We laughed and made jokes as they would kick my feet and say “can you feel this? can you feel this?” Day after day I would tell myself not to worry and that this feeling in my feet would diminish over time. It only took 2 days for the numbness in my feet to disperse to the entire right side of my body. As soon as this feeling had reached my ears I decided it was time to speak up. I told my father what I was feeling and both unconcerned, we had come to the conclusion that it was simply growing pains and that we would keep an eye on it. I felt a sigh of relief as I continued on doing my everyday routine. I thought the feeling in my body would go away but every day the feeling became more severe. I woke up one morning in the middle of the night in excruciating pain and a headache that I had never experienced before. I ran to my parents bedroom in tears. It was only then that we knew something wasn’t right.

I'm a senior at beatrice high school i'm in welding two and woods two and building construction i'm in advanced conditioning to help better myself physically. I hope to join the military or go into the field of construction .I like fishing and hunting. I moved around a lot when I was little I lived in Beatrice and Pickrell and Blue springs and back to Beatrice.

Dogs look up to humans while cats look down them, yet horses see us eye to eye. Horses are a powerful engine, a rowdy two-year old, a skittish deer, a moody tenager, and an animal that reflects your own personality, all in one graceful figure. When riding a horse, I am not controlling it, I am connecting with it. This challenge was one that long since intimidated me, but this Something New Project prompted me to accept it. In March, I began weekly lessons that varied anywhere from one to two hours. Furthermore, I practiced riding without instructions for an extra two to three hours a week.

I often think about what I would do if I never began to pursue my art. Would I be as creative? I began making art my main focus during my sophomore year of high school. Before that, I believed I was going to go into the science field. Not only did it become my main focus, but it was my escape from the struggles in my life, and my coping mechanism to handle my depression and anxiety, as cliche as it seems.

As I sit in the chair of my high school classroom I often feel remorseful of some decision I made as a young girl. these decision would affect me later on in life, and lessons would be learned from my mistakes.

A time that I faced a challenge was my junior year in high school. This was my hardest year academically. I felt as if three out of my five classes were impossible to pass (the other two being electives). It seemed like no matter how hard I studied or how much tutoring I received, there was no light at the end of the tunnel. Going from a straight A student with an occasional B here and there to then being in the low B range killed me. I stressed myself out tremendously over grades to where it became unhealthy. I would have migraines daily. I would come home, go straight to my room and dwell on the fact that I had no idea how to start my homework let alone complete it. I would sit there, depressed, crying my eyes out because I had nowhere to

Teachers across America usually choose books that their students will read for a certain quarter.

I was just an ordinary teenager, now finally finishing out my freshman year of high school when I got this terrible “invisible injury”. My friend and I were running around on the last day of gym for the school year when out of the corner of my eye I saw a dark shadow quickly approaching my head. My whole body jolted as I tried to comprehend what had just happened, my head spun. Little did I know that my life would be transformed those quick seconds due to the chaos that was gym basketball. The summer going into sophomore year was anything but ordinary, majority of it consisting of me sitting in dark rooms playing with children's toys such as legos and play-doh, or wearing sunglasses everywhere, even inside stores at the mall. It was as

I was fourteen years old when a new life started for me. My mother came to the US searching for a better future for my sister and I, she left us with my grandmother when I was only two years old. Sometimes, a new beginning sounds scary. I had lived my entire life in El Salvador, surrounded by my family and friends, and now the moment to leave my country had come, I was to leave my home to come to the US to reunite with my mother. It was not an event I had envisioned, it was rather something that I saw far from happening.

Throughout my entire elementary career, I was home schooled by my mother. My siblings were also home schooled, so she always gave us books to read and the four of us would race to see who could finish them at the fastest speed. We were typically assigned the same books, and since my siblings are an age range of four to eight years older than me, I was reading above my level for my age. When I transferred to public school in middle school, I had become very advanced with the reading skill. My English classes seemed too easy for me, so I have had straight A’s in English ever since I’ve gone to public school.

So far this week my life is finally falling into a routine once again. I have been studying night and day with breaks in between. Wish I could go out and do more but six classes this semester is going to be interesting but I know that I can do it. I love all my bible classes in particular because it is really opening my eyes to what the bible and God really is. I feel sometimes going up in church has made me just feel like it is something I HAVE to do like read the bible and quote scripture but I never made time outside of church to read the bible and learn scripture which caused a domino effect with me because this made me feel “unchristian”. This feeling made me even more unmotivated and before I knew it I was discouraged once again. I could

It is hard to believe it has been two years since I retired after 37 years as an educator. After the initial withdrawal questions that I am sure most retirees experience such as what was I thinking to quit a perfectly good job; what will they do without me; what will I do without the daily interactions with people on the job; how will we pay the bills; and what will I do with all this free time; I finally came to grips with being a “has been” and moved on to being a “whatever I what to be." It took some time, but I came to realize there is more to life than a “perfectly good job” that requires 12 to 14 hour work days; I learned to accept they, the job, will get along just fine if not better without me; I still miss the job specific interactive

At the young undeveloped age of 17 I decided to be independent. However at the age of 17 I also learned that I wasn't ready to be independent. Being still in high school, and not meeting eye to eye with my family created a sense of direction that I believed I could attain. What most people don't do until college or even after college, I had done. I managed to move out in a impulsive manner. Statistically, most people move out between the ages of 18-25, I convinced myself that one year wouldn't make a real difference, it was only a year, or so I imagined.