Live My Life

impulse, and he the corrective” (Cather 221). As Burden stated, Antonia’s early years as an immigrant and working girl directly impact her uncanny ability to lead a home. The two are ultimately happy, successful, and dedicated to the land where they live, much to the shock of…

People could be living in places like a house, apartment, orphanage, and maybe even a tent, etc. For example, I live in an apartment that my family pays rent for and sleep in every night. There isn’t any other place that I stay in whether I like it or not. It maybe where I live in but should I really consider it my home if I don’t like it(I like my home)? Must I consider it my true home if I had not liked it? Looking at it in a one point of understanding, home is an object that people…

marked me so deep into my veins and it was written all over in papers.. It was one sunday afternoon and as I exit the parking lot into the building were the store I worked was located I felt this warm feeling rolling round and round not only in my belly but in my head.. The smell of cannabis drowned the whole building it was insanely gross. I speed walked as I covered my nose with my long sleeve shirt. I made my way to the back where only employees were allowed. Then made my way to the front…

achieve this, everything else in life will just follow. I would be lying if I said that scared little girl inside my heart didn’t still believe this to be true to some extent, but with age came wisdom but we’ll get to this a little later. Seeing all the “pretty” people on tv, movies, ads, even in real life can be intimidating, convincing us all for the most part that this is just how life is. I hate to admit, but this way of thinking was apparent in my own family. My own mother was so unhappy…

everything still had his presence. Walking into it, Mildred by my side, I walk to the bookshelves, staring, grazing my hands across the leather bounds, moving side to side. All of his beloved books about that country, “The Encyclopedia Britannica, British Flowers, Birds and Beasts various histories,…

After the storm was over—a full seven days and six nights of being homebound—a group of my friends and I got together outside of the Puttingneg city library after the martial law was lifted and streets cleared. The library sat on three acres of land. It had a garden and beautiful pond with gold fish. The castle shape library had four towers and many windows. The building was made of marble bricks. As you enter the front entrance, the oval double doors was made of solid bronze. James, Cindy,…

In Willa Cather’s novel entitled My Antonia, she writes about several female characters that, in essence, challenge the stereotypical women’s role in a male-dominated society during the early 1900s. In Trifles, a play written by Susan Glaspell, she depicts her female characters as crafty and bright and not simply inferior intellectually to their male counterparts. Upon closer examination of these two pieces of work, Cather and Glaspell demonstrate that these female characters defy the existing…

when my parents had told us that we were going to Cancun, Mexico I had very mixed emotions about the vacation. Being in Cancun, and feeling the warmth of the Sun, I was ecstatic for. But the almost 4 hour plane ride there and back was an agonizing thought. Currently, I’m walking through the air-bridge and onto the plane while on the verge of anxiety. While we were looking for a seat I noticed little five year olds sitting down and looking as if they…

My first time at Cedar Point It was June 6th, 2016, the end of my eighth-grade year at TKMS, I woke up, at 5:30, jumped out of bed, got dressed, ate, and yelled at my mom to get in the car, all by 6:20. But of course we weren’t even close to ready, and we didn’t even need to leave until 7:30. So after reluctantly going back inside, to pack a spare pair of clothes, sunscreen, and our tickets (which we almost forgot), we were finally ready to go and it was already 7:40, “MOM!!!” I yelled…

breeze making my hair stand on end. My breath was sparse, and I was begging in my mind that they won’t come near. My dark hair was in my eyes, blocking my vision, but it didn’t matter because my eyes were shut as tight as I could get them. “Don’t… come…. n-near,” I whispered half for self-comfort and half to try to get them away. The wind…