Winter Break

This winter break, I  enjoyed my time away from school by resting and relaxing most of the time. Two days after we got out of school, my sister and I made cookies. Making christmas cookies for our family has always been a tradition. In the past my cousins would come to our house and we'd make different types of cookies and chocolate covered pretzels. Over time, cookie making been left to my mom, my sister and I. This year, while my mom went to finish last minute shopping, my sister and I made the cookies. After 8 long hours of baking, we ended up with over 400 cookies that were spread neatly onto 8 different trays and delivered to family members.
The rest of my break went well; I spent most of my time with family. On New Year's eve, I spent the day shopping and I went out to dinner with my family for my cousin's 15th birthday.That night, my parent's made food and bought junk food, so we all just sat around and enjoyed eachother's company.

"Modest Proposal" Questions

1. Swift creates the persona of the author as someone who seems to be willing to get rid of everyone if they are becoming a burden to society.

2. The real thesis: "...I have not the least personal interest in endeavoring to promote this necessary work, having no other motive than the publick good of my country, by advancing our trade...".

3. In the last few paragraphs of the essay, there are obvious differences between the proposer and Swift, because Swift states his real proposal.

4. In Swift's essay, he is attacking the people that want to find solutions quickly, no matter how stupid or risky they are. Swift's attitude for the beggars is that he doesn't want the children to burden their parents or the country. In the essay Swift associates himself as wealthy.

5.No, the essay isn't completely a satire. Swift presents a real proposal in the last few paragraphs of the essay.

6. The essay is organized in the problem and solution for babies, and then 1-12 year old children and finally the elderly, maimed or ill.

7. When Swift states his real proposal it strengthens his moment, in my opinion.

8. In some parts of Swift's proposal, he was lighthearted, making it horation, but when he talked about selling babies to eat them as a way to solve the problem of babies in poor families, that idea was juvenalian.

9. The word modest in the title is an understatement because the proposal is the opposite, which also makes it ironic.

10. Hyperbole: Swift claims that selling and eating babies would be the best solution to everything.
Understatement: The title uses the word modest, thought that is the opposite of the actual proposal.

11. People are trying to fix problems with the cheapest and easiest solutions, like Swift's proposal.


Example of Logos:
Example of Pathos

Shrek and Satire

In the clip, instead of Shrek protecting her, Fiona fights while he watches her. In a typical fairytale the man that saves the princess fights for her and protects her because the princess doesn't know how to protect herself.

Exaggeration-
Incongruity- Fiona takes time during the fight to fix her hair.
Reversal- Fiona takes the normal role of "the knight in shining armor"
Parody- In the fight scene, Fiona goes in slo-mo like The Matrix.

Why I want a wife questions

1. Does this essay have an explicitly stated thesis? If so, what is it? If you believe the thesis is implied, paraphrase it in your own words.
Yes, this essay has a thesis. The thesis is in the form of a question; "Why do I want a wife?".

2. Throughout the essay, Brady repeats the words “I want a wife.” What is the effect of this repetition? 
When Brady repeats "I want a wife", she is reminding her readers the purpose of her essay.



3. Brady never uses the personal pronouns he or she to refer to the wife she defines. Why not?
Brady wants her wife to be an ideal wife, a picture in her readers' heads. She also doesn't use he or she because she hasn't given her "wife" a gender, just because it is her "wife" doesn't necessarily  mean that it is a woman or a man.

4. Do you think Brady really wants the kind of wife she describes—does this ideal spouse

actually exist? Explain why you think Brady wrote this essay.

I think that Brady is being sarcastic throughout this essay, I feel that she is describing what society wants men to expect in their wives and she is showing how ridiculous it is to expect characteristics like this in a spouse.

5. How does Brady define what it means to be a “wife”? How does she organize the many services a wife provides her husband and family? What do you think of Brady’s characterization of a wife and her responsibilities? How do you think she wants her readers to respond to this characterization? Why?
Brady defines what it means to be a "wife" as someone who does everything for their spouse in order to make them happy. Her characterization of a wife and her responsibilities are those of the ideal spouse. I feel that Brady wants her readers to realize how ridiculous it sounds because that is the way society portrayed wives then.  

6. Write a letter to Brady responding to “I Want a Wife.” Let her know what you admire or don’t admire about the essay and the extent to which you consider it effective and/or persuasive.
Dear Judy Brady,
I enjoy your essay, "I Want a Wife". In the essay you explain reasons that you want a wife and I admire the sarcasm or satire that you use to describe what you'd want in a wife. Overall, I like the essay and I feel that there isn't really anything negative that i could say about it.
Sincerely, Alexus Dyer

7. Write your own piece entitled “I Want a/an X.” You can use Brady’s essay as a model, and in the process, imitate some of her stylistic techniques. Or, alternatively, write an essay about the role of a “wife” in the early twenty-first century, explaining how a wife’s responsibilities complement and are complemented by those of a spouse.

Why I want a math class.

I want a math class so that when I become an adult and I need to find the sine, cosine or tangent of something, I'll look back and be glad that I took that math class. I want a math class so that when people ask me what class I hate the most, I will happily answer with "Math." I want a math class so that I can get confused and stressed out over problems that are more simple than the teacher lets you know. I want a math class so that I can stay up all night trying to answer one problem on my homework from my math class. I want a math class so that when my child is in high school, I can be useless and not be able to help him/her at all with his/her math homework. I want a math class so that the grade from it can drop my GPA dramatically. I want a math class so that I can sit in my room, on the night before a big math test, trying to figure out a way to study  the material. I want a math class because everything I learn in there will be used in real life, including trigonometry and geometry. I want a math class so that I can sit around confused, and lost. That is why I want a math class.

What's done in the dark comes to light. (lightswitch)

The lightswitch flipped on, causing light to flood the room, exposing a bloody carpet and walls streaked with blood. Blood dripped out of the closet, covered the bed, and splattered the dresser. Though the detective was used to scenes like this, he'd never seen something this extreme, especially in the quiet neighborhood on 56th street. "My God, what happened in here?"
"Neighbors say they heard screamin' and then soon after they called the us, a car sped outta here like a bat outta hell," the short cop answered.
"License plate number?"
"Nah, apparently the screamin' was so terrifying that they all hid after they called us"
"Anything about the family who lived here?"
"Uh, just two adults. They kept to themselves a lot, not a lot of people knew too much about 'em."
"I'll come back with my crew," the detective said, flipping off the lights and closing the door to the small bedroom. As the detective turned away from the door he glanced at the red stain on the officer's hand. Was he imagining it? He cleared his throat to say something when the officer's walky talky interupted; "Hey, Bill there was a murder on 56th street, neighbors just called it in. Are you done with your break? We can go check it out."
The officer glanced at the detective and responded, "Uh, yeah. Actually, I'm just done the street, meet you there in 15 minutes?"
"Yeah, roger that." the staticky backround went silent. All at once everything started to make sense to the detective, everything was exposed, like a lightswitch flipped on in a room.
"How did you know about the murder before anyone reported it?" the detective asked, though he knew the answer.
"Those people were stirrin' up trouble in this town, no one would suspect a cop would try to get rid of him," Bill answered, slowly creeping toward the detective.
"Why did you bring me here?"
"I knew that if you searched the scene well enough you might be able to trace it back to me." The cop had a gun now and was aiming it at the detective. The detective charged at Bill and they fell to the floor as they fought for a handle on the gun. One gunshot sounded in the air. Bill was gone, he stopped the struggle as he ended up like the family of two had in their own bedroom.
"What's done in the dark comes to light, officer," the detective said, walking down the stairs and out of the door.

Scary Story (not finished)

"Okay, mom, I'll be home soon," I assured my mother as she warned me not to drive by the cemetary on my way home . I tossed my phone into the passengers seat and headed toward the cemetary, passing by there meant getting home quicker. As I drove down the slope beside the cemetary, my car shuddered to a stop. "Not again!" I screamed, frustrated with my car. I shoved my car door open and walked to the hood of my car. "Oh, I see what's wro-" I began as rain poured from the sky. Just my luck, I thought, slamming the hood of the car down and jumping into the car. I looked outside of the fogged windows to see a small building in the center of the cemetary, maybe a worker at the cemetary could help me with my car, but I had to make it there in the downpour.
"1,2,3!" I counted, and then I sprang from the car door. I ran to what I could see of the small building in the dark. I slipped and slid among the tombstones in the mud, trying to make it to my destination. I could clearly see the building now, as I reached the building I slipped into a ditch. After I sat up and looked around, I realized that I hadn't slipped into a ditch, but a grave being built.
This can't be happening, I thought as I jumped, trying to look for a way out. "Help!" I yelled, hoping someone would hear me.
After what felt like forever, the light of a flashlight beamed into the deep hole. "Thank you," I said "I slipped in here and I need help." I looked up to see a man with a shovel and a creepy smile.

The lost flip-flop earring

When I was in elementary school, I collected earrings. I had every type of earrings, gingerbread, snowmen, candycane, flowers, hearts, dolphins, and my favorite, purple flip-flop earrings. They dangled and they were light purple flip-flops with a dark purple flower. I wore those earrings every single day. I was known for having the biggest collection of earrings then but almost everyday I'd wear my purple flip-flop earrings.

One afternoon, before leaving my fourth grade class for the day, I realized that I was missing one of my purple flip-flop earrings. I grabbed my ear lobe and tugged, hoping that it would magically reappear. I searched the classroom frantically for the earring that would finish my favorite pair. I know it seems weird to be emotionally attached to an earring but I cried a little when I finally left the classroom. The next morning when I walked into the classroom I saw my purple flip-flop earring sticking out of the rug at the entrance of the classroom. I couldn't believe it; it was still there after the janitor probably cleaned the rug. I was so excited that I'd found it again.