There's Something in the Way She Moves by Nicole K. Smith

There's Something in the Way She Moves - by Nicole K. Smith

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Two Worlds Collide

[Image missing: 2 College Cheerleaders hugging]

I crawled up onto my bed and laid there for a minute lost in my thoughts. Haley jumped up onto my bed after the third attempt and began to purr as she crawled around to find a comfortable spot to lie down. Finally she rested near my head at the edge of my pillow. I began to scratch her head and she curled up even closer. “When did all of this happen?” I directed my comment towards my kitten, but it was more for my sake than anything else. I looked around my room. I looked at the floor that was covered with my mother’s memories, now glowing a pinkish color from where the sun was beginning to set. I looked at the wooden box that sat there alone and empty from where the contents had been removed. I found this kind of ironic because at that moment in time I felt somewhat like that box. Something that has the ability to hold so much, yet there’s not a thing on the inside. I slowly got down off of my bed and began to put everything back into the box. “Ding!” I looked over at the laptop curious as to how I had been logged back onto my account and saw that I had a message from Whitney.

“Hey girl! I just wanted to tell you that you are the best bestie that anyone could ever ask for!”

And at that exact moment I was holding the old napkin that mom had saved from Mel (her best friend). The phrase might have been altered a little, but Whit had just told me what I needed to hear more than anything in the world. She reminded me that although our world may be changing and we may use the Internet for just about everything it doesn’t mean that people’s feelings have changed. I looked from the old wooden chest now full again of mom’s life, back to my laptop. The laptop that is full of pictures and emails and IM’s that have been sent and received over the years. No, I won’t have a hard copy of every little memory from my life to share with my daughter one day, but I will have the stories. Those will never change. Just like mom still has all of her stories. The internet has definitely affected our personal lives. It’s changed the way that one person can communicate with another. But that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. So as the sun continued to set, I closed the wooden chest and shut down my laptop. The chest with “SKM” etched into the old wood and my laptop with sparkling stickers that read “NKS” sat side by side. And for the first time in a long time I realized just how similar our two worlds wer

Posted by ------- at 11:59 AM 0 comments

Sunday, November 23, 2008

My Glimpse of Hope

[Missing image: young man in suit and tie]

In this world of fast pace love it's hard for the hopeless romantic to feel like there is any chance of finding that knight in shining armour. However, I got a glimpse of what that might be like. That he might actually be out there.

Dear Nikki,

I miss you too girl. I can't wait to get out of this hell hole. It'll be after Thanksgiving, at the earliest, when I get to Pensicola. But I'll be there for two years (almost). How far are you from Pensicola? I've got a limit on how far I can go when I leave.Anyway. I've setteled in here...sadly. However, I have made some really good friends (surprise purprise right?). My best friend here is Josh Hicks. I'm gonna be his best man as soon as we get out of here. Speaking of here, it's hot! I'm more than ready to get out of here. Thanks for the pictures and the frame. They are GREAT! I think it'd be really cool to have a picture of me and you, me in my uniform on, in the frame. I wish I had something to send you, but under these circumstances...I don't have much.Anyway, tell me about school and the stuff you're up to. How did you like that club? While I was in Panama City for Senior Trip I went to club LaVila. It was pretty awesome. Not my first though. hahaha.Well I'm gonna have to go. "Free time" doesn't last very long. Write back as soon as you can.

Love ya,
Scott

It was pouring down rain when I checked my mail three months ago. I tried my hardest to keep the letter under my shirt and dry as I ran all the way back to the dorm. When I finally got into my room I was drenched from head to toe. The water seeping through my clothes. I sat down in my chair and ripped the letter open. I did a pretty good job of keeping it dry, but the envelope was turning a light shade of blue from where the water and the ink were running together. As I took the letter out a drop of water hit the page. But this time it wasn't from the rain. It was a tear. All of the memories from our past running through my mind. This was little Scott. The boy that I met on the playground in the 5th grade when I moved to Georgia. The boy that I held hands with under a pillow so that nobody else would see. The preteen that I kissed on the lips at a birthday party in a closet. The teenager that took me on my first date. The teenager that came to me when he was having girl problems. The man that cried while talking to me on the phone the day of my 18th birthday, because we both knew it would be the last time we would talk in months. We had been each others rock. We had been each others everything. This wasn't sent through an email or through an IM. It was written by hand. Someone had still taken the time to write out their thoughts and their emotions. To send a letter that meant more to one person than he will ever know.

Posted by ------- at 12:06 PM 0 comments

Recovering Love

[Missing image: young man and woman sitting together, arm in arm, smiling @ camera]

“Here it is!” My mom pulled down a chest out of the attic and began to dust its rough and unsanded lid off. The wood had carvings in it that were barely legible and the only thing I could make out was her initials that had been etched into the side. “SKM” it read. I knew right then that it was at least 20 years old because the M stood for McCarty. Her maiden name. I was not entirely sure what to expect once she had opened this old box, but I knew that it must have been important. My mom is not the most sentimental person, so for her to have kept something for over 20 years truly was remarkable in my mind. She opened the old chest and inside were letters, pictures, and little knick knacks that had been collected over the years. The letters had turned into an off white, almost yellowish color and the smell of mothballs was certainly present.

My Dearest Sheila,

There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of you. Jim and I went to the lake today and it made me think of that time that we all went to the lake and had a picnic and spent the whole day out on the water. I got a letter today from Mel. She told me that she loved it in Illinois, but missed the gang. It won’t be long before we’re all together at UF and won’t have to write these stupid letters anymore. I’ll actually get to hold you and tell you to your face how much I love you and how I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But until that day, just know that it won’t be long my love. Only one more week and we’ll finally be together again.

Love Always,
Paul

A tear rolled down my cheek as I read the last of the letters that my dad had written to my mom while they were away in different schools. I looked down at my floor. There were letters and pictures strewn about and the sun was resting ever so gently on the entire room. My cute little kitten came and sprawled out on one of the letters in the middle of the room to bask in the sunlight. “Ding!” I came out of my little daydream and looked over at where my laptop was laying and I had just received an instant message from my best friend Whitney. Whit and I had been friends for ages and every time I got an IM from her I was excited! She started telling me all about how Jeremy, her boyfriend, had just sent her the most amazing email EVER! She forwarded it to me and I began to read it. It started out with a “Hey baby” and ended with a “Luv ya”. All of the in between was half hearted and seemed so foolish compared to the letter that I had just finished reading from my dad. There was nothing emotional or special. There was no love. How could Whit sit there and try to tell me that she had the most amazing boyfriend in the world when the sweetest thing he said to her was “Ur so sexy boo”? I didn’t respond right away, but just sat there. I kept running over the words my dad had hand written to my mom on the perfect piece of notebook paper and then looked back at the computer screen that now seemed to be glaring back at me. The lighting was so harsh and the words not nearly as soothing. I quickly IM’d Whit back that it was cute and logged off. I didn’t know how to respond or what to say.

Posted by ------- at 11:53 AM 0 comments

Emotions Run High

[Missing image: tropical sunset]

The cursor is blinking back at me. It's like a staring competition and I'm losing. Losing miserably. As I continue to stare at this glaring screen my mind begins to wonder. It wonders off to a world where...where...I'm stuck again. My imagination won't even function. I minimize the screen and pull up my Itunes. James Taylor's "Something In The Way She Moves" starts to play and my mind drifts off to a vacation in the Hawaiian Islands. It's just me and this boy. He's standing at the shore line staring back at me beckoning me to come closer. He wraps his arms around me in a tight embrace and tells me that he'll never let go. No matter what happens in life we're in this together. Then a new image appears....this one not as pleasant as the last. It's that blank screen once again. Only this time my attitude towards it changes. My fingers begin to pluck away at the keys of my keyboard and my mind is racing with ideas and emotions that quickly flood the pages of my computer screen. A story begins to unravel about a couple who is in love, but they live far away from one another and he can't see her but once a month so he writes to her. One letter a week for a whole year.

Posted by ------- at 10:08 AM 0 comments

 

There's Something in the Way She Moves - Assignment

Paper One: “What Should I Call My Avatar?” a Digital Literacy Narrative

4-5 pages, 12 pt. Times New Roman, Double Spaced (1200 – 1500 words)

Tell the story of your life online. What are your earliest memories of reading and writing online? What were the experiences that have affected your attitudes about the digital world? How have your offline and online life intersected or affected each other? Reflect on your role(s) in online environments, and how you create (consciously or not) an identity online and how like it is to the way you interact with people in face-to-face environments.

Suggestions:

•Be original.
•If you can’t be original (are you sure you can’t be original?), be specific. For example, you might want to write about how Facebook has affected your life, but Facebook has affected the lives of almost everyone in this class. However, the details of your story might be very different. Dig deep enough into them and they might even be original.

•As readers, we like insightful writers. Since this paper is primarily about you, learn something new about yourself. (But don’t fake it. No reader wants to see you fake it.)
•Everything deserves a name. Give your essay a good one.
•Tell lots of stories, tell only a few, but connect them together—and not just by a summary at the end.
•This isn’t a five paragraph essay. Forget introductions and conclusions. Think strong beginnings and even stronger endings.
•There are lots of ways to organize an essay. Make sure you’ve chosen one. Even better, choose one that reflects the story (or stories) you’re trying to tell.
•One thousand words isn’t much. Don’t waste your reader’s time with “filler.” In other words, less fat, more meat.
•Don’t get married to your first draft. Or your second. Or even your third. Fix it, throw it away, start over again—do whatever it takes (short of plagiarism) to make your paper better at each stage of the drafting process.
•And perhaps most importantly, don’t be afraid to take chances, to have fun, to write about what matters most to you.

 

There's Something in the Way She Moves - Draft 1

“Here it is!” My mom pulled down a chest out of the attic and began to dust its rough and unsanded lid off. The wood had carvings in it that were barely legible and the only thing I could make out was her initials that had been etched into the side. “SKM” it read. I knew right then that it was at least 20 years old because the M stood for McCarty. Her maiden name. I was not entirely sure what to expect once she had opened this old box, but I knew that it must have been important. My mom is not the most sentimental person, so for her to have kept something for over 20 years truly was remarkable in my mind. She opened the old chest and inside were letter s, pictures, and little knick knacks that had been collected over the years. The letters had turned into an off white, almost yellowish color and the smell of mothballs was certainly present. Our world today is evolving and changing into a technology power house. Let’s face it. And this is not entirely a bad thing, until it affects you personally. The internet and the inner-workings of our changing world have given the younger generation; my generation, a reason to ponder our personal relationships today. The love letter, the note from a best friend, the snap shot that speaks a million words will soon all become a thing of the past. Nothing more than just a memory, but one that we no longer have a hard copy of.

My Dearest Sheila,
There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of you. Jim and I went to the lake today and it made me think of that time that we all went to the lake and had a picnic and spent the whole day out on the water. I got a letter today from Mel. She told me that she loved it in Illinois, but missed the gang. It won’t be long before we’re all together at UF and won’t have to write these stupid letters anymore. I’ll actually get to hold you and tell you to your face how much I love you and how I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But until that day, just know that it won’t be long my love. Only one more week and we’ll finally be together again.
Love Always,
Paul

A tear rolled down my eye as I read the last of the letters that my dad had written to my mom while they were away in different schools. I looked down at my floor. There were letters and pictures strewn about and the sun was resting ever so gently on the entire room. My cute little kitten came and sprawled out on one of the letters in the middle of the room to bask in the sunlight. “Ding!” I came out of my little daydream and looked over at where my laptop was laying and I had just received an instant message from my best friend Whitney. Whit and I had been friends for ages and every time I got an IM from her I was excited! She started telling me all about how Jeremy, her boyfriend, had just sent her the most amazing email EVER! She forwarded it to me and I began to read it. It started out with a “Hey baby” and ended with a “Luv ya”. All of the in between was half hearted and seemed so foolish compared to the letter that I had just finished reading from my dad. There was nothing emotional or special. There was no love. How could Whit sit there and try to tell me that she had the most amazing boyfriend in the world when the sweetest thing he said to her was “Ur so sexy boo”? I didn’t respond right away, but just sat there. I kept running over the words me dad had hand written to my mom on the perfect piece of notebook paper and then looked back at the computer screen that now seemed to be glaring back at me. The lighting was so harsh and the words not nearly as soothing. I quickly IM’d Whit back that it was cute and logged off. I didn’t know how to respond or what to say.
I glanced down and noticed an old cocktail napkin lying near the box. I picked up the napkin and began to admire it. The edges were a bit worn and there was a tear in the bottom right corner. In the center it read “The Gelato Shoppe” in perfect green cursive. I turned the napkin over in my hand and was surprised to find what I did. There was a note scribbled onto the back.

Hey Girly,
I just wanted to remind you that you are the greatest best friend that anyone could ever ask for!
Your Bestest!
Mel

It was dated in the upper corner, but it had faded long ago. I thought back to stories that my mom had told me and remembered that there was a little Gelato place that she went to all the time with her friends. This must have been from one of the many stops that they had made there together. I tried to remember the last time that Whitney and I had gone out together. Just the two of us. The last time that I told her what a great friend she was and how much she meant to me. We had been there for each other through everything and yet I couldn’t remember the last time that we had just sat down to have a good time. Preparing for graduation and getting ready to go off to college was so time consuming and the most that we’d actually gotten to talk was over a few IM’s. The closest thing to this note that Whit and I had exchanged lately was a “bumper sticker” on Facebook. Had we really become so busy that we couldn’t go grab an ice cream or even lunch?

I glanced back down at the wooden chest. There was an envelope with pictures sliding out of it. I picked the first one up and it was a group of about six people. I started to laugh. There was mom and dad with some of their friends in front of Lake Alice at UF. Dad was wearing really short running shorts and mom had on really big white sunglasses and bleach blonde hair. I picked up another picture and it was of mom and her roommate Laura at a Gator game. Every picture told a story. Every picture had a meaning. Haley, my cat, walked over to my laptop and it was the first time in a long time that I actually took a good look at my background picture. It was a picture of me and Whit in our cheerleading uniforms with some of the guys from the football team on Senior Night. It wasn’t much different from the picture of my mom and her friends other than the fact that it was trapped on my computer. Stuck inside this stupid machine. Every picture that had any kind of importance to me was on Facebook or on someone else’s Facebook with a tag attached to it. Sure I had pictures in frames around my room, but not nearly as many as I had on the computer.

I crawled up onto my bed and laid there for a minute lost in my thoughts. Haley jumped up onto my bed after the third attempt and began to purr as she crawled around to find a comfortable spot to lie down. Finally she rested near my head at the edge of my pillow. I began to scratch her head and she curled up even closer. “When did all of this happen?” I directed my comment towards my kitten, but it was more for my sake than anything else. I looked around my room. I looked at the floor that was covered with my mother’s memories, now glowing a pinkish color from where the sun was beginning to set. I looked at the wooden box that sat there alone and empty from where the contents had been removed. I found this kind of ironic because at that moment in time I felt somewhat like that box. Something that has the ability to hold so much, yet there’s not a thing on the inside. I slowly got down off of my bed and began to put everything back into the box. “Ding!” I looked over at the laptop curious as to how I had been logged back onto my account and saw that I had a message from Whitney.

“Hey girl! I just wanted to tell you that you are the best bestie that anyone could ever ask for!”

And at that exact moment I was holding the old napkin that mom had saved from Mel (her best friend). The phrase might have been altered a little, but Whit had just told me what I needed to hear more than anything in the world. She reminded me that although our world may be changing and we may use the Internet for just about everything it doesn’t mean that people’s feelings have changed. I looked from the old wooden chest now full again of mom’s life, back to my laptop. The laptop that is full of pictures and emails and IM’s that have been sent and received over the years. No, I won’t have a hard copy of every little memory from my life to share with my daughter one day, but I will have the stories. Those will never change. Just like mom still has all of her stories. The internet has definitely affected our personal lives. It’s changed the way that one person can communicate with another. But that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. So as the sun continued to set, I closed the wooden chest and shut down my laptop. The chest with “SKM” etched into the old wood and my laptop with sparkling stickers the read “NKS” sat side by side. And for the first time in a long time I realized just how similar our two worlds were.

 

There's Something in the Way She Moves - Draft 2

Sunday, September 21, 2008

From one generation to the next

You must understand something about my grandma. She was a secret agent for the IRS before she retired and she loves going on vacations with my grandpa. She has margarita mixers with her girl friends and then loves going to Vegas for a fun weekend of poker. Yes....we are talking about my grandma. :)

My family has a very close bond. The women are like the ones you see in the movies....you know the ones I'm talking about. Where everyone is in everyone else's buisiness. Welcome to the family! And the best part about it is that I love every second of it. Most people would probably hate it. They would wish their mom and grandma (of all people) would just leave them alone. But that's what keeps me sane. The women from generation to generation. Some of the best memories I have are of my family get togethers. We all have the chance to catch up and just have a good laugh. Even my great grandma....who's pushing 96, is still up and running; ready for the next conversation to come her way. I promise I'm getting to something here....

About twice a week I get an email from my grandma and a letter (usually with a check in it) once a month. In the emails my grandma simply tells me a funny joke, or a story, or just that she loves me. She's never come out and said it but I know that it's her way of letting me know that she's there no matter how far away I am or what the problem may be.

I remember this one time when I was hanging out with some friends at their apartment and my grandma called me. I answered and talked for about 5 to 10 minutes and then hung up. After I hung up, my friend Kyle, turned to me and had the strangest look on his face. I asked him why he was looking at me like that and he said that if he ever said half of what I had said to my grandma to his grandparents that it would probably put them into cardiac arrest. I started laughing histarically and thought back to the conversation that I had just had with my grandma. I told her that my Geology class blows and that the parties were insane. I told her about one of my friends staying over night at a frat house because of how drunk she got and I told her about this really sketchy guy that gave me his number at a restaraunt. I began to laugh all over again. Because then I thought about the things that she had been saying in return.
"Have you met any hotties yet?" "What's the night life like?"
"How is tailgating?!" I couldn't stop smiling. I loved my relationship with her. How many people could have that kind of conversation with their grandma? Not many.

Which is why those emails mean so much. As well as the letters. My grandma has been able to mesh her generation of paper and ink with my generation of technology and keyboards. It's the best example that any of us could ever find of one person bringing together one generation with another.

Posted by [[Student Name]] at 8:25 PM 0 comments

 

I couldn't let go...

So I know that this blog was posted before....but I couldn't let go.

Dear [[Student Name]],

I miss you too girl. I can't wait to get out of this hell hole. It'll be after Thanksgiving, at the earliest, when I get to Pensicola. But I'll be there for two years (almost). How far are you from Pensicola? I've got a limit on how far I can go when I leave.Anyway. I've setteled in here...sadly. However, I have made some really good friends (surprise purprise right?). My best friend here is Josh Hicks. I'm gonna be his best man as soon as we get out of here. Speaking of here, it's hot! I'm more than ready to get out of here. Thanks for the pictures and the frame. They are GREAT! I think it'd be really cool to have a picture of me and you, me in my uniform on, in the frame. I wish I had something to send you, but under these circumstances...I don't have much.Anyway, tell me about school and the stuff you're up to. How did you like that club? While I was in Panama City for Senior Trip I went to club LaVila. It was pretty awesome. Not my first though. hahaha.Well I'm gonna have to go. "Free time" doesn't last very long. Write back as soon as you can.

Love ya,

Scott

 

It was pouring down rain when I checked my mail three weeks ago. I tried my hardest to keep the letter under my shirt and dry as I ran all the way back to the dorm. When I finally got into my room I was drenched from head to toe. The water seeping through my clothes. I sat down in my chair and ripped the letter open. I did a pretty good job of keeping it dry, but the envelope was turning a light shade of blue from where the water and the ink were running together. As I took the letter out a drop of water hit the page. But this time it wasn't from the rain. It was a tear. All of the memories from our past running through my mind. This was little Scott. The boy that I met on the playground in the 5th grade when I moved to Georgia. The boy that I held hands with under a pillow so that nobody else would see. The preteen that I kissed on the lips at a birthday party in a closet. The teenager that took me on my first date. The teenager that came to me when he was having girl problems. The man that cried while talking to me on the phone the day of my 18th birthday, because we both knew it would be the last time we would talk in months. We had been each others rock. We had been each others everything. This wasn't sent through an email or through an IM. It was written by hand. Someone had still taken the time to write out their thoughts and their emotions. To send a letter that meant more to one person than he will ever know.

Posted by [[Student Name]] at 8:15 PM 0 comments

 

There are moments in every person's life that they wish they could relive. Moments that will forever live on in their memory as one of the greatest days of their life. Something that they will remember forever. I am no exception to that standard. I was a cheerleader since I was in the 7th grade and the memories that I created with these girls for over 6 years are memories that I will share with anyone that is willing to take the time to listen. We had practice everyday for 3 hours and depending on how much we got done or wanted to get done we would have two-a-days. So the point I'm trying to get at is that you end up spending a lot of time with these girls. You get to know every little thing there is to know about each one of them and and you get to basically be a huge part of their life. They became my sisters. The girls I could depend on no matter when or where and I have to admit now that it's all said and done....I feel lost. Sure I text and IM them whenever I get a chance, but I feel like those days are becoming less and less often. And these girls that I once called my sisters are more like distant memories. It hurts to think that you could spend such a huge amount of time and energy on relationships that were one day going to become nothing more than a simple..."Hey girl! What's up?" in a text or a "OMG! You will never guess what happened!" in an IM. I can't soley blame this disconnection on the internet alone because I realize that people change and move on in their lives. But it was so much easier to feel that love and bond when you were actually with the people who cared about you and that you cared for then it is now when they are supposedly just a "click of the button" away. Well if it's that simple then why does it seem so difficult?

Posted by [[Student Name]] at 8:49 AM 0 comments

 

There is no escape

I read Cosmo Magazine just as much as the next college girl. Sure it has provocative and suggestive articles, but there is some stuff in there that can come in handy. Even for, let's say, an ENC1101 paper. As I was sitting in my dorm the other day I found that I didn't have much to do so I picked up this months Cosmo. As I turned through the pages of article after article about sex and beauty, I came across an article that stood out. That just didn't quite fit in. "Are your social skills sucking?" the title read. Then directly under that there was more.... "Gadgets are vital for keeping in touch, but they can also erode your closest relationships." I couldn't believe what I was reading. Here in this magazine all about how to have a better sex life and how to make yourself more beautiful there was an article exactly about what my paper was on. In the article it went on to describe how to keep better contact with your friends, co-workers, and boyfriend. I guess my point is that I'm not the only one that's noticed how the internet has started to effect our personal lives. Obviously everyone is aware that this is happening, but it wasn't until just now that I realized people are starting to do something about it. People are presenting their concerns just as much as I am and they're going about doing it in deifferent ways. Some in an international magazine....some in their ENC1101 paper.

Posted by [[Student Name]] at 8:21 AM 0 comments

 

Friday, September 19, 2008

The Battle of Words

The cursor is blinking back at me. It's like a staring competition and I'm losing. Losing miserably. As I continue to stare at this glaring screen my mind begins to wonder. It wonders off to a world where...where...I'm stuck again. My imagination won't even function. I minimize the screen and pull up my Itunes. James Taylor's "Something In The Way She Moves" starts to play and my mind drifts off to a vacation in the Hawaiian Islands. It's just me and this boy. He's standing at the shore line staring back at me beckoning me to come closer. He wraps his arms around me in a tight embrace and tells me that he'll never let go. No matter what happens in life we're in this together. Then a new image appears....this one not as pleasant as the last. It's that blank screen once again. Only this time my attitude towards it changes. My fingers begin to pluck away at the keys of my keyboard and my mind is racing with ideas and emotions that quickly flood the pages of my computer screen. I sit back and look at this new "masterpiece". I was asked to write a paper about how the internet has shaped us as individuals today. How it has affected us on a day to day basis. And that's what I'm going to do right now. I'm going to share with you the thoughts and emotions that are constantly running through my mind. I'm going to tell you my story. In my words.

Posted by [[Student Name]] at 12:01 PM 0 comments

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Blog Archive

  • 2008 (5) 
    • September (5) 
      • From one generation to the next
      • I couldn't let go...
      • There are moments in every person's life
        that the...
      • There is no escape
      • The Battle of Words

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There's Something in the Way She Moves - Process Memo

Writing a paper for most people is a chore or a job. It’s something that they are required to do and most people would rather go to the dentist than have to complete the assignment. Then there is me. I love writing. I carry a journal around in my purse and think that writing papers is actually fun. When Mr. McCall gave us our first assignment I was really excited. Not only was it my first real paper in college, but the topic really stood out to me. He asked us to write about how technology and the internet has changed our personal relationships with other people and simply how it has changed over time. I immediately thought of a situation that had happened in my life where this exact topic applied. I began to jot down little notes in my notebook and the second I got back to my dorm I began to type away. I finished my first draft within two days and thought it was a masterpiece. Little did I know that Mr. McCall would have other plans in store for my paper. When I brought in my paper to have it work shopped with my classmates they didn’t give me a lot of feedback to work with for my second draft so I had my teacher look over it and give me his advice. That’s when he suggested, not only to me, but to the whole class that we should consider writing our second draft in blog form. I have to admit that when he first suggested this I wasn’t very excited. I wasn’t really sure as to how I was going to write a paper in a non-traditional paper form. However, once I started writing it was like I had been writing that way forever. I loved that I could write one blog, save it, and then come back to write another one that had a whole new tone to it because of something that had happened earlier that day. It was really refreshing. It took me a couple of tries to get a good, solid final copy, but in the end it was totally worth it. I think that was probably my favorite part about this class and this assignment as a whole. I loved simply getting to do what I love in a whole new way.