Recently in 10B Ideal Day Category

Ideal Day Corrections

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Lena Schwartz

 

Mr. Newman

 

ENG2D

 

Skyscraper National Park

 

  

I wake up, and smile at the risen sun out the Parisian style windows of my Upper East Side apartment. I look at the alarm clock beside me and see that it's eight am, and I've had a full 10 hours of sleep. I leisurely get out of my luscious California king bed and glance up at the crystal chandelier glimmering in the sunlight coming in through the windows. I saunter across my room and into my closet. I look around and marvel at it, glancing at the brand new pair of Louboutins I bought yesterday, lined up among 34 other pairs of carefully selected shoes. I turn the corner to the area where I keep my sport clothes, and put on some shorts, t-shirt, and running shoes.

I make my way out of my closet, bedroom, hallway, and front door. When I emerge from my building, I look around me and breathe in the warm New York City air, than cross the road into Central Park. I begin running, and pass several couples strolling together, as well as families, and other runners. It's been 30 minutes and I decide that's enough. I cut out of the park, cross the road, and walk down a side street to a quaint coffee shop where I'm meeting my friends for breakfast. I walk in and immediately spot them. They stand up and to say hi, than we sit down, order, and beginning to chat. I'm, so happy to see most of my friends again. In this city, friends are what carry you through it all because of the unpredictability and uncertainty of everything from work, to relationships. At 9:30 I decide I need to leave, so I get up, say goodbye, pay the bill and walk to the closest main street to hail a cab.

Once I'm home I shower, than enter my favourite room in the entire house- my closet. I take a while to look around at all my clothes, shoes, and accessories to decide what I want to wear. I choose a baby blue Ralph Lauren tunic with a Chloe brown belt and some nude platform Louboutin pumps. I grab my cream coloured Tory Burch bag and leave the serenity of my closet.

Once I'm ready, I head down the elevator and onto the busy street. A lot has changed since my run. The sound of cars and people shouting is all I can hear, and I love it. I step out onto the road a bit and hail a cab, than head to work to prepare for the event my PR firm is holding tonight in the Hamptons. When I arrive at work it's 10:30. I check up on everybody to see if the event planning is going well and finalize all of their reports, and than head to my office overlooking Fifth avenue and make some last minute calls and orders. Every thing is very under control, so by noon I can leave for the day. I grab every thing I need for tonight and head out for lunch with some friends in SoHo, two of which happen to be male models.

On the way there I run into Cassie, my friend all the way through High School and university and still a close friend now. We have an amazing lunch, talking and catching up since the last time we saw each other while eating a delicious meal. At the end of our lunch, I ask one of the male models, Jonah, if he would like to come as my date to my event tonight, and he accepts. He than proceeds to come shopping with me to find my outfit for tonight.

It seems like we explore every shopping district of New York City- SoHo, 5th Avenue and surroundings, and a bunch of small little shops Jonah shows me. We finally have a complete outfit for me after a couple hours of squandering the entire city- a tight on the top than flowing Marc Jacobs maxi dress, a crazy hairpiece with feathers and flowers on it from Alice and Olivia, and some vintage Louis Vuitton wedges. I look at my watch and see that it's 2:40 pm, and I have a spa appointment at 3. I run to the subway station across the street and yell to Jonah that I'll meet him at my place at 5 to drive to the Hamptons.

Once I get to the spa, I settle in and enjoy an hour and a half of relaxation and time to myself in the midst of my fast moving day. I get a massage, facial, and pedicure at my favorite spa, Exhale Upper East Side. By 4:30 I'm back on the move. By the time I get to my apartment I only have 20 minutes to get ready before everybody shows up to go to the party. My hair and make up is already done from the spa, so I open up my shopping bags and take out my brand new clothes. I slip on the dress, shoes and carefully clip in the hairpiece. The buzzer goes just as I finish, and I go let my friends into the building, than into my house. I greet them, tell them how good they look, and we have a drink on the terrace.

A while later, the car arrives, we all pile in, and than head off to the Hamptons. We're staying at my friend's beautiful house on the beach, so we can drop off our bags before going for a walk on the beach. It's a gorgeous night, the water is lightly hitting the shore, creating a peaceful and calming sound that adds to the setting, and the sun is about to set.

At 7 I leave to see how the location of the party is coming along, as well as to help with set up and to make sure everything is the way it should be. When I arrive, everything is perfect. There's twinkling lights in all the trees, low enough to see, but not low enough for them to interfere with the rest of the setting, and music playing in the background that will be louder once the guests arrive. I circle around the location for half an hour, checking up on things, and making final changes.

At 8, people begin to arrive. People are everywhere, grabbing ors d'oeuvres and celebrating the company's success. The event is absolutely perfect. The company that hired us is thrilled, and so am I! The turnout could not of been better and I have had people coming up to me all night telling me how much fun they're having and how great of a job I did. It boosts my self-esteem and makes me believe that I can continue down the path I am heading on successfully. I walk around, mingling with all the guests and periodically grabbing cosmos from the trays the waiters are circulating with.

At the end of the night, around 2 am, I head back to the house because clean up was pre arranged and I don't have to stick around. We all sit out on the deck and talk for a few hours, looking out at the starry sky, listening to the surroundings, and breathing in the clean and crisp air. I have the best friends ever, and good friends are hard to find in New York City. As Al McGuire once said: "I come from New York, where if you fall down, they pick you up by your wallet".

At 5 I decide to go to bed, seeing as I have a flight at 11-tomorrow morning to Paris to visit my friend Katie. I leisurely walk up to my room, put on some comfy clothes and crawl into bed. I pull the duvet up to my neck and curl up with my pillow. I fall asleep with the windows open so I can listen to the quiet air, and smell the Hamptons. As I dose off, I think about my day, and how it was pretty much the most ideal day I could ever ask for. 

A New York Minute

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Elizabeth H.

Mr. Newman

ENG2D-10B

Sept 19 2011

 

A New York Moment

 

 

         I wake up to the smells of car exhaust, relished hot dogs, perfumed ladies, sweaty children and concrete. These things combined make one distinct scent of a Saturday morning in New York City. It's the aroma of freshly baked croissants that finally entices me to roll out of bed. I flash my best Cheshire Cat grin in anticipation of the best Saturday ever.

         Normally on weekdays I have no time for breakfast, so today I am going to really indulge. At 25, I am still a starving student, so I can't afford the luxury of eating those delicious croissants. With a big sigh, I press the button down to toast my plain old Wonder Bread. Cheap but tasty! I start to think about the day that I finally complete my Master's degree. I have worked very hard at the New York Academy of Art, specializing in Sculpture and Anatomy. I imagine receiving my diploma at last. It is so close... I can smell it! Acrid smoke goes up my nose, my toast is burning! Too much daydreaming!

         Saturday is my one day of freedom and peace, but I have absolutely so much to do! I take a hurried shower, throw on some comfortable clothes and rush out the door. As usual, I have completely forgotten to give myself enough time to get on the train. I bolt down the stairs and fly off to the nearest subway station. The concrete jungle that is NYC has woken up. Predators and prey alike are running around, jostling to get where they need to be. I descend the stairs to the platform and I see one huge mass of people swarming the gates to get on the train. I swipe my pass quickly and hope that I haven't missed the train.

         The smell of the commuters is almost overpowering and I would like to sit down if there were any seats left, but that's a drawback to being last on the train. There are never any seats. A loud rasp comes through the loudspeaker. Something is said about a stop. I still can't speak conductor, even though I have been riding the subway for quite a while. The scratchy voice is patched through again, but I know by sheer experience that this is my stop. I have arrived at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

         This museum is one of my favorite places to be. I discovered The Metropolitan when I read a book called From the Mixed Up Files Of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, a story about two children who ran away and had marvelous adventures in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I still pretend I am one of those kids! The other reason was that Dave Chihuly, a famous glass artist, had opened an exhibition of his art here two days ago, and I have been longing to see his work for quite some time. Whenever I visit the Metropolitan, the first thing that strikes me is the smell of wax and polish on the majestic Grecian columns. I am reminded of my favourite summer trip when I sketched and painted my way through Greece. Banners direct me into the exhibition of Chihuly's work, and when I enter I am awestruck, in the truest sense of the word.

         The black walls showcase the exotic glass and create a dramatic effect. Huge plates and bowls surround me: Macchia and Venetians, Ikebana and Putti. All of the different types of forms were here. Every bright and contrasting colour in the spectrum has been used elegantly to create flow and rhythm. I am teaching an art class in a local high school as a requirement to get my Masters, and I think I might bring the kids here. I hope some of them will find the same inspiration in Chihuly's work that I do. I am reluctant to leave, but I don't have a lot of Saturday left.

         I leave the exhibit and step back out to NYC. My next stop is my favorite strip of boutiques on 25th and 6ave. I am not a fan of shopping in malls. What really appeals to me are the small and uncommon shops that make browsing enjoyable. I usually just look around because I cannot afford anything. Today is different, because I am not shopping for myself.

         The first store I go into is a small and, not surprisingly, cramped jewelry emporium. I am exhilarated to see the handcrafted jewelry and I am encased in the metallic smell of the store. I choose a pendant for each of my grandmothers. One is a circle of tiger's eye; an ocher coloured stone with a silver band all the way around it, perfect for Nana, who has taught me to value the important things in life. The other is a modern silver square with a teal blue circle in the lower corner, and that's for my Grandma, who has inspired me with stories of determination and success. I think these will suit each of them perfectly. I am buying these to thank them for financing my apartment during this stage of my life. Each of them has contributed so much to me, in order to make my dream of achieving my Masters Degree in Fine Arts into a reality. 

            I get back onto the crowded subway and head home. This is the relaxing part of my Saturday. I walk in and soak up the thick, earthy scent of my oil paints and drawing pencil graphite. My day would not be complete without including three things: playing my guitar, reading something and watching an episode of How I Met Your Mother (But don't tell mine, because she just can't abide that show!).

          I pick up my guitar and warm up my fingers. They dance along the fret board as I pluck out a few tunes, and then I start to play my favourite songs: 'You and I' by Ingrid Michelson, 'Perfect Disguise' by Modest Mouse, and 'Good Day' by Angels & Airwaves. I put down my guitar and I pick up my novel, A Mango Shaped Space by Wendy Mass. I snuggle down under my favourite blanket and turn on my music. I know this book off by heart, but I still read it once a year, and today is that day of the year. What a perfect afternoon!

         The perfect afternoon is about to turn into the perfect evening. I love to get dressed up and I like to choose clothes that are a little bit different. Sometimes my friends don't always agree with everything I wear, but I live in New York City and 'Anything Goes'. That, however, is not the play we are going to be seeing tonight. My friends and I have been saving up for a very long time to eat in a chic Italian restaurant, and then we are going to see Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Phantom Of the Opera. This is my favorite Broadway show, and I am so excited to finally see it live, at the Majestic on West 44th Street. I suddenly feel ravenous, and I can't wait for dinner, but more importantly I can't wait to see my friends!

         Kristie, Gabi and Tessa are waiting for me at the front of the restaurant. They have flown in this Saturday so we can have a girl's night out in The Big Apple. We talk and laugh about what's been happening in our lives and about the upcoming Broadway show we are about to see. I eat my coconut shrimp and enjoy every last bite of it. It is by far my favorite thing to order in any restaurant. We laugh, eat, and share a decadent chocolate cake between the four of us, and have coffee. We visit the very posh bathroom before we leave for the theater. We make sure we are wearing the our rubiest red lipstick, and we talk and laugh some more. Tonight we are going all out, and I hail a yellow taxi, just like real New Yorkers.

         We get out of the cab and breathe in the smell of the pavement flooded by pools light. It was truly Bright Lights, Big City! The door man opened the glass doors of the theater, making this evening even more magical. When we get into the theater and take our seats on the red velvet chairs, we can feel the thrill and excitement buzzing through the air like an electric current.

         The orchestra started tuning their instruments and I can already smell the dry ice that they used for the fog effects. The lights dimmed and the audience turned all of their attention to the stage, not to mention the crystal chandelier precariously swaying from above. The actors slipped into the skins of the characters. They took Webber's words and turned them into actions. Because I am an art fanatic, I can fully appreciate the craftsmanship of the sets, and the detail and genius of the costumes. I reveled in every minute of it!

         When the production was over, the audience leapt to their feet, giving the actors a standing ovation. Gabi, Tessa, Kristie and I threw caution to the wind and called another cab. We gossiped all the way home about the good old times and our futures. We said goodnight as we hugged each other and for some reason we just could not control our laughter!

         I run myself a hot bath once I am back in my studio, and light more candles surrounding my bathtub than they used in the show! I take a few minutes to make the perfect playlist and sink into the mountain of bubbles. The potent citrus soap calms me. I remind myself that this is not my bed, and to not fall asleep. The sounds of the traffic outside echo in the bathroom, I am happy.

         New York truly is the city that never sleeps, but I'm a girl who needs her (beauty?) sleep. I dry off and empty the tub, and settle back into the freshly laundered pillows and blankets. I don't do sheets, and my mother doesn't need to know that either! It was a successful Saturday and oh, did it ever smell sweet.

Being A Doctor

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Aureon Oroomchi

Mr. Newman

ENG2D - 10B

21 September, 2011

 

 

At 6:30 in the morning, I wake up in my penthouse beside my lovely wife in Vancouver on a clear sunny day. The penthouse is the top floor in the Hilton hotel, with leather floors and mahogany walls. The view outside lets you see the beautiful shores of British Columbia.

Very shortly after I wake up, breakfast arrive, consisting of eggs Benedict and bread with butter and jam. It is brought to my wife and in bed by our maid. The breakfast is made perfectly, smoking eggs on soft bread with Hollandaise sauce. After a relaxing breakfast, get up and get ready for the day. I walk into our bathroom, take a steamy shower, and get ready to go wake up my two dear children; a boy at the age of six and a girl at the age of four. I then get my maid to cook them breakfast, specially made with each of their individual favorite foods, and bring it to them while they are in bed. My children wake up and start to get ready for school, as I go and talk to my wife to see what she wanted to be doing today. My wife gets up and takes our son to school and our daughter to daycare. The school is conveniently located very near my workplace, and the daycare is located on the same street of the building we live in.

I exercise in our personal workout room. I then spend some time swimming in the pool of the apartment. The pool is a perfect 85 degrees. After spending around two hours working out and swimming, I look at the clock, it is around 9:00. I go downstairs to the lobby of the building. As soon as I enter the lobby, I am assaulted with people asking if I would like my car ready in the front or if I would prefer a limo waiting outside. I decide to go with my Porsche, a car that was bought by my father as a gift the day I graduated from university. It's a low metallic silver color car. I drive my car to one of the best-known Clinic around the city.

Driving to the place is a traffic free drive, and today birds fly in the air, tweeting beautiful songs, and relaxing tones. The sky was solid blue, with no clouds in the air; the sun is bright and shining.

I arrive at the clinic, and step inside to be informed that today on appointing is booked, a surgery on somebody's nose. My job is being a plastic surgeon, focuses specifically for projects dealing with the face. After I am told the news, I get ready to start the surgery. The job is a very easy one. The only work that was required for me to do is to straighten the bone in the nose. I talk to the other doctors to see how they were doing after the surgery. Many people as well had it easy so we decided to plan something after work. After I talked to all the other doters and made sure everything was right, I did some paperwork involving me expanding the clinic even more. As well as having more room, many new doctors were able to join the clinic.

After and easy day at work, I leave at around 3:00, which allowed me to not have to go home at rush hour. On the way home, I pick up my son rom his school, and my daughter from her daycare. They both tell me about how great and fantastic their day is going. My son tells me that on that day of school he had all of his favorite classes; and my daughter tells me that she was able to make a bunch of new friends. I drop them off at our home, where they spend time with their mother. After I dropped them off, I meet up with my friends from work, and we all go out to have a drink together. We go to my favorite place to drink, Boston Pizza, and to my shock, there is a hockey game going on while we are there. My favorite team, the Calgary Flames won the match, making watching it all the better.

Once my friends and I finished drinking, we go off to play a few round of golf. My friend drives us there, and offers to bus us our equipment. However, the person running the shop told us that we were the lucky one-millionth visitor and that we get new golf equipment for free. As soon as we step onto the course, I realize that luck is with me and I was able to get a few holes in ones, making my friends somewhat jealous. After the game my friend offered to drop me off at my house, to thank me for buying drinks. When I get home, I'm surprised with the fact that my wife and children want to take me out to dinner. They're taking me to their favorite restaurant, Red Lobster. While driving to the restaurant, I look outside the window, and I notice that the sky is filled with red. It's the perfect sunset, with a perfectly red sun. The birds are starting to fall asleep, and nocturnal creatures are starting to wake up. You can hear the hoots of owl, and the chirps of birds, making it impossible not o relax. The restaurant my family is taking me to is my family's favorite.

When we arrive, we realize that there is one open spot right by the entrance of the restaurant. We step in the Maître d' notices that we have two cute young children, so she's able to show them the lobsters hidden away within the glass cage adjacent to the entrance. After a couple of minutes, the Maître d' comes to inform us that's she will be back soon to serve us. To my surprise, the restaurant is mostly empty, other than a few families. The waitress returns and serves us what we asked for, but because of how empty Red Lobster is, in only a few minutes we have all our food in front of us. W all dig in to one of the beast meals in our life, making the day all the better.

We finish the food, and pay a very cheap price since the restaurant had everything was fifty percent off. I drive my family home, while my kids fall asleep in the back, and my wife has a nap in the front. When we arrive home, we take the kids upstairs to their rooms and put them to bed.

My wife and I go back downstairs to the swimming pool in the apartment and have a relaxing time together. We spend time in the pool, time in the hot tub, and time in the steam room. The pool was a perfect temperature, and the hot tub was no different. The steam room is as If you're living in the middle of Jupiter. This was just enough to top off the perfect day.

After the pool, we went upstairs into our room, brushed our teeth, took another shower, and went to bed. Although this seemed like the worst part of the day, when it ends, it's best, because I know that it's all going to happen again tomorrow.

My Ideal Day

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A Day In The Life

I wake up at 10:08. This isn't surprising considering that I worked till 2 am I walk into the kitchen shielding my eyes from the bright light that was pouring through the window. I plug in the toaster which is sitting on the counter. I pull 2 pieces of toast out of my bread box and set them in. I adjust the knob to 5 and pull the lever down. As I am waiting I pull a glass from the cupboard and pour myself some water and cranberry mixed. I start to think that a break from the studio is a good idea as my life becomes quite fast paced. I open the blinds and see that the city had been up long before me which is no surprise. I smile as I see some kids playing and a couple walking the dog. I take a sip of my drink and then hear a pop. I walk over to the toaster and pull out my 2 pieces of toast. Which are almost black. I make a note to set it for 4.5 next time. I put many spoonfuls of cinnamon on and then some honey. I finish at 10:32 and start to think about what I would do next.

After a few minutes I eventually decide to call my friend who lives up the road to see if he was game for something. I called and his little brother answered and asked if I wanted to play baseball. Of course I couldn't turn down such an offer and I said I'd be out in 10 minutes.

I then get dressed and began to brush my teeth. After I pick one of my hats off the shelve and walk out the front door. The 3 of us play for almost 2 hours. We are pretty tired so we decide to go get some drinks and lunch. His brother is in a good mood so he decides to make us lunch. We head to the downstairs of his house and relax on the sofa and watch a rerun of the 2017 NBA finals. While our lunch is being made.

He brings us our sandwiches as well as another for himself which I must say is surprisingly good. We eat our sandwiches in silence. When we are finished I ask if they would both want to come with me to play some tennis. His brother declines saying that he has a hockey camp to attend, but my friend accepts. I run back to my house to grab my racket as well as some spare change, and we start our walk. Sure we could use my car but with the current gas price hikes we spared ourselves the trouble of facing bankruptcy earlier than needed. We walk and talk on our way to the courts which were located in the downtown of our area. We walked relatively quickly as I hope to be home in good time for dinner. It was 2:14.

After arriving, we quickly warm up and get in a game of rallying. We practice all types of shots before we sit down to take a break. I look at my phone it reads 3:47. We decide to head back as I would like to be home in good time for dinner.  We start our semi-long walk back home.

We arrive and he asks if we could get together some time soon. I agree and we set a time next week for golfing and I quickly make a note of it to remember.

I go in and lock the door behind me. I decide to freshen up before dinner. Once those tasks are done. I dress up fairly nicely for dinner and head to the garage where my 308 GTSi was parked on an angle. I open the garage and step into the car and drive off. While I am driving I think to myself that I should of filled up yesterday as the gauge is now well below a ¼. I turn on the radio and hear that gas prices have gone up to almost 5 dollars per liter. I quickly shut the radio off and resume my drive in silence, enjoying the scenery and the quick pickup of my 308. Another solid 5 minutes go by and my GPS suddenly tells me that I have reached my destination, 20 minutes ahead of time. I step out lock the car and walk into the restaurant where I'm greeted by my manager who said he had a surprise for me. He along with the waitress guide me to a table, where I was surprised to find my parents waiting for me there. I ask them questions about how they've been doing recently, and I'm thankful to God to hear that their still in good health. My Manager offers to buy drinks, on him, but I decline saying that I am working tomorrow and never like to drink, however small, the night before work. Me and James start to chat about work and these thought come to mind. After my first hit record I have discovered that money wasn't the answer to life, I was extremely grateful to discover these things at a very young age and that it was something some people spend their whole life working towards. I ponder what the answer is and where to search next. Dinner was amazing I had fish and chips with Cheesecake for desert and I must say that James sure knew how to pick the places. After much fighting and reasoning with the group I had won the battle and was allowed to pay. We stay for a bit afterwards talking and enjoying the live music. I glance at my watch and I say that if I was to get to work tomorrow then I best be off. My parents agree and say they should get going too.

As I walk out of the restaurant I take notice of the name and I say goodbye to my parents, James and step out into the cool night air. I walk to my car which is thankfully not too far away from the door.  I start her up and notice the orange gas light which reminds me again that I need to fill up. I drive the short drive to the gas station, nearby shielding my eyes from those bright florescent lights. I park and I fill her up. In total I was out just under 300 dollars. I start her up again and I continue my short journey home.

I arrive and shut off my 308. I step inside and remember to shut the blinds. I get changed and get into my bed. I knew I should get as much sleep as I can to be ready for my job tomorrow.

An Ikarian Lifestyle

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Tessa Plakidas

Mr. David Newman

ENG2D (10B)

September 17, 2011

An Ikarian Lifestyle

I wake up and I have a tingling, wet sensation on my left hand. I open my eyes and I look towards my hand, wondering what could be causing this feeling. As I look over Liza (my dog), is staring into my eyes smiling at me like she always has. I pet her small white head and get out of bed. As I am making my way to the shower I can hear Liza's footsteps behind me. I take a quick, hot, relaxing shower and then dry myself. I put on a pair of dark jeans and a grey shirt with a pair of sneakers. I do my makeup casually, same as always, I put on black eyeliner and mascara. I make my way downstairs, and as I enter the kitchen I see Liza by the door reminding me to feed her. I open the kitchen door. Liza runs outside and chases the cats away so that the whole garden is hers. I walk outside with the dog food and feed her. I walk back inside and boil some water for my mint tea. I go back upstairs to grab my jacket and my bag. I pour my hot tea into a mug, call Liza inside and leave the house.

 As I am walking to work I can only see familiar faces. Not many people were able to leave the island, and I finally start to understand how privileged I was to leave and have the option to come back instead of being stuck here. I reach the bakery and get a cheese pie. It tastes just like back in elementary school and I can feel all the childhood memories coming back with every bite.

I finally make it to the office. I open my purse, pull out the keys, and unlock the door. As I walk inside I turn on the lights, and I can hear the door close behind me. I open the windows to admire the beautiful view. I can see the port, the square, the beautiful blue sea and the big green mountains. No one is here yet so I decide to call up my best friends, Marina and Iliana. These are the ones that overcame the distance and were always there for me even if I was thousand of miles away. They answer and I remind them about our Friday tradition: gathering all the good old friends and eating lunch together, and inform them that we will be meeting at the square at three pm and request that they call the others. The first patient arrives. We talk about their family and how she remembers me from when I was young. I start the examination but due to doctor confidentiality I can't reveal any further information. The rest of the day goes by smoothly. I see another twelve patients and then finally it's three pm and it's time to leave. I quickly grab my purse and my macbook, lock the door behind me and walk to the square. 

As I am walking down to the square the road brings back all these memories. I have lived a special moment in every corner of this street and walking down it is like watching my life in replay. As I approach the square I can see everyone standing around waiting for me. As usual, I am the one that is always late. Slowly everyone turns around and looks at me with relief. No one knows where we would be eating today other than me. I could tell them apart from miles away. I could see Marina and Iliana my best  friends, Panagiotis and Nikolas they're cousins and good friends of mine, Nikita my cousin and very close friend, Apostolis who I didn't see much after I moved to Canada but we remained good friends, Antonis also a good friend that was always there for me. Even if we were in huge fights he always came through and helped me. Those are the ones that always stood up for me, and I have to admit I am still surprised that we are friends after all these years, but I always knew that they were friends for life. Even if I wanted to get rid of them I wouldn't be able to because we have been through too much together. Even if most of them were never able to leave the island they seem happy. But they seem even happier now that they can finally eat. Once I reach them I scream at the top of my lungs "let's go eat" and everyone follows me.

We are eating at Fanouris, the restaurant I worked at when I was fourteen. I have to say I miss those days when my boss would call me to remind me that I'm working that evening, or when I would walk into the restaurant and he would always check what I'm wearing and if I am okay. As I walk into the restaurant the smell of souvlaki brings back all the memories. I say hi just the way I would when I signed in for work every day. The only difference this time is that my ex boss comes and hugs me with a big smile on his face. I grab a note pad and a pen and go back outside to our table. As I reach the table everyone is sitting down and the table is set. When everyone sees me with a pen and the note pad in my hand a wave of laughter hits me. I ask them what they found so amusing and they reply they never thought I would be taking their order again. Not to make this too tiring for the readers they order after giving me a really hard time, which I think they did on purpose. After a long debate we decide what we are going to eat and I take our order inside. I put our drinks, glasses, plates and forks on a tray and take it outside. I leave the rest to my ex boss so I can spend some time with my friends. We talk about our week and our plans. It's almost summer so we discuss our vacation destinations. Pretty much everyone wants to go to Athens for a week or two and spend the rest of the summer here. I just want to stay here and maybe go to an island nearby for a few days. My boss appears with a tray full of food and everyone cheers as he approaches. I help him place the food on the table and everyone starts eating. There is no talking for a while. We are too busy eating the food that we ordered. After a while Antonis finally speaks and asks me why I don't want to go back to Canada this summer. I tell him it's because there is no point in me going there since all my friends are coming here for two weeks. We slowly finish all the food and the time to pay the bill comes. Every Friday we would take turns, and this Friday it was my turn to pay, so I walk inside and tell my boss to do the bill, but he refuses. Of course I insist on paying, but as always he wins, but I only leave after I make him promise that next time he will late me pay. I walk outside and see all my friends walking towards me. I know something is up from the look on their faces. When they approach me they announced their plans for the rest of the evening. The party is continuing at my place and of course, I love the idea! I always get so excited when my friends come over.

We all start walking towards my house and after a five-minute walk we reach my house. We can all hear Liza going crazy, barking and crying. I unlock the door and everyone makes themselves comfortable, like they were at their own house. In a way it is, such a big part of their childhood was spent in this house, this garden. Liza is very excited she likes it even more than me when I have people over. Everyone grew up with Liza and knew her since she was an adorable little puppy. I grab eight glasses and a bottle of wine and we sit in the garden. I love my garden. It's right above the sea and you can see the whole village, overall a beautiful view. We sit outside drinking wine, chatting and laughing until the sun goes down. Once it is dark we go back inside and slowly everyone leaves, one by one. By the time the sky is full of stars I am left alone with Liza, finishing up some files. As I go through the files I can't help but think about my past. How I got here. How my life would have been different. All these unanswered questions. I guess I can only be thankful that everything worked out and not wonder why it did.

            It's already 10:35 pm and I finally decide to go to bed after a long day. I go upstairs with Liza following me as usual, brush my teeth and change into a comfy pair of shorts and a big shirt. I walk towards my room, wait for Liza to jump on my bed and close the door. As I approach my bed Liza is wagging her tail and smiling at me which I find very unusual. But then I remember something. Many believe that dogs have a sixth sense and maybe Liza has a good feeling about something. So I lie down under my light blue sheets facing Liza and fall asleep, knowing that everything is going to be okay.

Hawaii Five O

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            An extremely high-pitched noise erupts in my head. My eyes open to see cracks of light coming through the blinds three feet from me. I attempt to move my legs, but it feels like something has crusted over my muscles, making it almost impossible to move. I finally manage to urge my body from the warm cave out into the cold dark room.

            "Come on, it's so simple. Don't worry, new guy, you'll start to understand." Comments from my new boss circle around me. Why was starting a new job so hard? Wasn't my entire life's education preparing me for this? I was recently hired for a job in Hawaii designing new surfboards, skim boards, and other water sports equipment. My career was going perfectly. I had just designed a new fabric for surfing shirts that traps body heat to help tolerate cold conditions. It was the primary reason I was able to get this job in Hawaii. I look out from the shower to see that the mirrors are completely covered in a cloud of moisture. I turn the tap and the flow of warm, comforting water ceases.

            After getting my master's degree in engineering, I moved to Hawaii for work. I try to get in to work early so that I can spend my afternoons and evenings surfing and skim boarding. Once I get through my long morning at work, I get in my dark blue Jeep Wrangler and head out to the beach. I stop at a small seafood restaurant near the beach to eat a light lunch. When I finish, I waste no time and go straight to the ocean.

            I dig my toes into the soft, hot sand. The beach is mostly deserted. I appreciate the peace. The cooling wind coming in with the ocean waves provides relief from the intense sun. In the distance one of my friends, Brendan, falls from his surfboard into the clear, salty water. He was one of my friends in high school and he moved to Honolulu recently. We first spoke again at Waikiki Beach, where I first learned to surf at the young age of thirteen. I returned there to practice surfing on calmer waves. Brendan had moved here a few months before me but he didn't have the spare time to learn to surf before we met again. It didn't take long for us to get sick of the crowds of tourists and vendors, and we became determined to find a new beach that better suited us.

            I slowly wade into the cool water at our new beach before lying on my board. I paddle out towards Brendan until we are equal distance from the beach. He waves and we exchange a friendly greeting before he continues his surfing. I turn my head and see a large wave approaching from thirty feet away. Adrenaline rushes through my bloodstream. I begin paddling, periodically checking over my shoulder to mark the wave's progression. I stand up quickly, on instinct, not thinking. I grin as I feel the power of the wave accelerate me. I turn back into the wave after a few seconds and catch a little air before my board falls away from beneath me and I crash into the water. I continue for the afternoon, maintaining a positive attitude, and leave shortly before five p.m. to have dinner with my fiancée.

            I open the front door and kick off my shoes. I walk peacefully to Sadie's crate and open the door to grant her freedom. She takes a small step out and stretches. We head into the backyard. I turn the switch and smell a small amount of gas escape the barbeque. I push down on the button to ignite the gas. I gaze at the horizon while I wait for it to heat up. The rhythmic sound of the waves crashing on the sand soothes me. I toss a ball for Sadie to run after. Her excitement starts to influence me and I throw the ball into the waves. Without hesitation, she dives into the water to rescue it. My fiancée begins making the salad as soon as she arrives home.

            Within half an hour we have the table set and we are ready to eat. The steaks are grilled to perfection and sit on a large plate at the centre of the table. Sadie watches us patiently. I give my fiancé a quick smile and pick up some of the bread beside me. Sadie commences to eat her food. We have a quiet meal, talking about our days, occasionally stopping to enjoy the beach in the background. After we have both finished, I help her clean off the table before I go out with Sadie for our evening run.

            The cool breeze and smell of salt water constantly refresh my face. I look west to see the large orange sun being swallowed by the dark ocean. I look down and see Sadie's tired face looking back at me. We have been jogging for an hour, and her tongue is almost scraping the sand below. I can tell she is tired, so I slow down. I pass by the skim boarding place on the beach built by a friend and me a few weeks ago. It was many hours of effort to get the water to flow perfectly, but it was worth it. Sadie begins to pull me forward towards my house, which is emerging into view.

            The pencil softly scrapes against the paper to produce a light layer of graphite. The curve meets perfectly with the end of the fin. My fiancée interrupts my concentration with an exhausted attempt at a good night. I mumble back something that sounds similar to a good night greeting, and go back to drawing the surfboard. I have been working on it in my spare time for a few weeks now. I am so close to finishing the design that I can barely hold the pencil steadily enough to write down the last angle. Finally I am done. I become eager for the next day to bring it to work where it will hopefully be approved for testing. I put it in my briefcase and drag my feet up the steps. Exhaustion overwhelms me suddenly, the small amounts of energy I have left vanish. I somehow find the strength to pick up my toothbrush and brush my teeth. I crawl under the welcoming covers and relax.

            "Honey, you left the bathroom light on."

I moan and try to ignore her.

            "Greg, turn off the light."

            I knew I wasn't going to win the argument so I roll out of bed, my feet once again on the floor. I shuffle towards the bathroom, thrust my hand down on the switch, and fly back into bed. A comforting and restoring sleep embraces me.

 

A Day in the Life of Me

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Kristie Oughtred

Mr. Newman

ENG2D (10B)

September 17, 2011

 

A Day in the Life of Me

 

 

It's 8:30am I wake up to the sound of waves crashing onto the beach.  I open my eyes and look out the window to another beautiful Tuesday on the west coast of Canada.  I take a shower, eat my breakfast, a simple blend of "froot loops" and "life" cereal, get dressed, feed my dog and head out for my day.  First I go to the art supply store and pick up some supplies for my class, paints (strictly pastel colours, only the best), brushes, sharpies, canvases, a sketchbook and a new photo album.  After checking out I head to my studio where I will be teaching the class a combination of photography, sketching and painting.  The class runs from 10:00-12:00 in the morning Tuesdays and Thursdays, giving me lots of free time to finish dentistry school and spend time with my friends. 

 

By 9:30 I arrive at the studio.  I smell fresh canvas and acrylic paints.  The walls are painted a familiar sky blue reminding me of my childhood bedroom.  However these walls are covered from ceiling to floor with pieces of art I have created over the years along with hundreds of photos taken all over the world during my traveling years.  I clean up the studio and prepare for my class.  By 10:00 all 13 of my students arrive and we begin.  Over the next two hours we go out on the street and take some photos.  It's a great day for taking outdoor photos.  The sun is shining and there's not a cloud in the sky.  These are the best days. Partially through the class we return to the studio to look at out photos, considering the great weather the photos turn out perfectly.  The class finishes and I stay behind to clean up.  Pencils, brushes, erasers and more art supplies that got left behind by students that I now get to add to my collection, it's surprising at how many things are left behind.  However, it benefits me because it just means that I don't have to buy as many supplies.

 

After I locked up the studio I head to my favorite restaurant to meet up with some friends for lunch.  I arrive at the restaurant and make my way to the booth where my friends are sitting.  I smell delicious food and it makes me even hungrier than I was before.  After a long day it's nice to sit down with friends and enjoy yourself.  We enjoy a delicious meal and talk for almost two hours.  We pay the bill and make plans to do the same thing the next week.  Following lunch I start to head back home. 

 

On the way home I snap some pictures of streetlights and birds on power lines.  I must have hundreds of the same photos, but taking pictures constantly has become somewhat of an obsession.  It almost seems necessary to have my camera with me at all times.  It takes me about 20 minutes to walk home, I don't mind it at all.  I like the time to think and also get in some exercise.  I stop in a couple of shops on the way and buy a new outfit, dark wash jeans and a pink floral t-shirt, something simple. 

 

When I got back home my dog Cadi, greets me with a wagging tail and stinky dog breath, it used to be a smell I hated, but as I got older growing up with dogs, their breath became a comforting smell, however I would prefer to smell flowers.  I grab Cadi's leash, collar and my camera, and we head down to the beach for a walk.  I like to take pictures of her playing in the water and chasing after birds, she's getting old but keeps me company and keeps me occupied, I don't know what I'll do when she's gone but I prefer not to think about it and enjoy the time I have remaining with her. Cadi and I return to our house and relax for a while and watch some TV. 

 

By 5:00 I start to make dinner spaghetti and meatballs.  I eat and watch my favorite movie "27 Dresses."  By the time the movie is over my friend Maddie calls and ask if she can come over.  Of course I say yes because we have known each other since we were about 12 years old.  While I wait for Maddie, I go upstairs and shower then put my pajamas on, I don't particularly care what state she sees me in because I've known her so long.  Then I go outside to watch the sunset, it's a flawless night and the colours in the sky are breathtaking, of course I take a picture. 

 

Maddie arrives and we catch up on what we have done in the past couple of weeks, I tell her about my class and show her some of my photos.  We talk about work, friends, and old memories from our cottages on Lake of Bays that we both still visit during the summer.  We make some popcorn and get some snacks, consisting of jellybeans, gummy worms, tostito chips and anything else that could possibly be unhealthy and full of sugar.  Then we watch some scary movies from when we were teenagers at Lake of Bays.  Cadi crawls up on the couch with us and tries to eat our food because she is fat (literally), finally I decide to give her a bowl of food for herself.   Around 11:00 Maddie decides to go home we say goodbye and make plans to see each other again soon. 

 

After Maddie leaves I feed Cadi her dinner and I brush my teeth and get ready for bed.  I read a couple of chapters of a book and review my photos from the day.  Cadi curls up at the foot of my bed, and after that it's lights out and off to sleep.  That is a day in the life of me.

A La Parisienne

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Katie Newton

Mr. Newman

ENG2D-B

21 September 2011

 

A La Parisienne

 

I wake up to the sun streaming in the tall windows of my Paris apartment. Next to me in my oversized, feather-stuffed bed sleeps Carter, my boyfriend of two years. Carter is a journalist for Le Parisien, the prestigious newspaper in Paris. I drag myself out of bed and trudge to my well-stocked closet, pull out my exercise clothes, ipod, and running shoes, and get dressed.

Glancing at my old-fashioned alarm clock, I realize I have plenty of time before work. I saunter into my sleek white kitchen and make myself a smoothie of bananas, avocados and protein powder. After downing my protein drink I feed my miniature Bichon Frise, Suki, which is Japanese for love. Then I head out for a peaceful run along the river Seine, turning around at the Louvre to go back home. As I run, I take in the sights of boats floating down the river, couples strolling, and the elegant buildings of Paris, until I reach my apartment at last.

When I walk in I hear the sound of the coffee maker and I know that Carter is in the kitchen. I wander to the master bathroom, where the shower and mirrors are coated in steam and the air is thick with humidity from Carter's shower. I take my time to shower and dress in my closet, pulling on a black Marc Jacobs skirt and loose white Theory top with simple black velvet heels.

I finally wander into the kitchen to see Carter sitting at our vintage French dining table. Light is flooding in our floor-to-ceiling windows onto the newspaper in his hands, and he puts it down as I walk in, and takes a sip of his black coffee. Minutes later I am back outside in the crisp September air, strolling leisurely with Carter and Suki to our favorite café on the corner of our street. We sit outside with coffees and croissants, chatting and enjoying the beautiful weather. 

We part ways at 9:30, because I have to be at work by 10. I hurry to the Metro station, where I use my stash of tickets in my wallet to board the busy train. I pass the time on the train reading Carter's most recent article in Le Parisien, and when I finally get to my stop at Le Place de la Concorde, I push my way out of the train and through the bustling crowds until I breathe the fresh air above ground again.

I take my time to walk to work, a block from Le Place de la Concorde. I am currently working as the creative fashion director at the prestigious magazine, French Vogue. I love my job because I can do what I love and what interests me all day every day: fashion. When I'm inside I make my way to my spacious corner office, located on the street-facing side of the elegant building. I sit down behind my modern glass desk and power up my Mac desktop computer just as my assistant, Rosalie, comes in with yet another coffee for me, exactly as I like it.

My work day consists of choosing and pairing different pieces of an outfit, down to the colour, texture, style, and price, placing orders with some of the worlds top designers, and my favorite part: actually dressing models and celebrities in my creations. My job is so fun that I never have a day where I just don't want to go. I hardly notice the time passing until it's lunchtime, and I head off to meet some friends at our usual bakery down the road.

 When I enter the bakery it is warm, and the air is thick with the sweet smell of the freshest bread. I spot my friends at a corner booth and saunter over to join them. It puts a smile on my face just to see them, because I really don't know what I would do without these girls. We greet each other with polite cheek-kisses, and begin to chat about work, boyfriends, and the fundraiser gala we are attending tonight at the George V hotel. The fundraiser is put on by Le Parisien, and Carter got us all invites to the exclusive event.

After lunch I stroll with my friends along L'Avenue de Champs Elysees, taking in the beautiful sights and sounds that surround us and enjoying every moment of it. Even though we are in a big city, I can feel the light spring breeze, and the sun kisses my face as if there were no buildings around to make a shadow. Eventually we must all go back to our jobs, so we exchange hugs and part.

I spend my afternoon at work browsing through various magazines, and deciding on the perfect hair, make up, and outfit combo for tonight's fundraiser. When I have made up my mind I leave work early, cut across the avenues to the Metro, and dash back to my quiet apartment. Soon after I arrive, there is a knock on the door, and moments later there are people bustling around my expansive living room. Various designer dresses are being laid out on my white chaises and couches, and my hair stylist, Ralph, greets me and begins to work my hair into an elegant low chignon at the nape of my neck. My make up artist, Juliette, also arrives and does a neutral look on my face, with dramatic red lips. I then select an Alexander McQueen white gown that flows to my feet and has delicate lace on the top, and I pair it with some bright red Louboutin pumps that match my lipstick. Finishing touches include silver jewelry and a classic white Chanel quilted purse.

Carter arrives home as soon as I am ready and tells me how good I look. Then he heads off to get ready, and soon we are in a limo bound for the party. When we arrive there are plenty of journalists and photographers waiting for us. We put on a smile and make it through the crowd until we find ourselves inside the low-lit venue. Subtle music is playing through the speakers, fabrics are draped from the ceiling to the floor, and there is a sophisticated feeling in the air. French waiters wander around with platters piled high with Hors D'oevres, and there are trapeze artists dangling from the ceiling performing death-defying stunts above our heads. The gala is loaded with some of the most prestigious people in Paris, and we begin to mingle and socialize. After a few hours, Carter suggests to me that we maybe cut out early and head home. I agree because I am tired and happy, so we drift to the exit and begin to walk along the Seine. The view is stunning and there is a light breeze dancing across our faces as we pass happy couples like ourselves strolling. Buildings and lights are reflected in the calm water of the river, and I glance up at the Eifel tower standing tall against the dark sky, illuminated by many lights.

When we finally reach home I remove my shoes and massage my throbbing feet. Carter appears with 2 glasses of bubbling champagne, and we sit on our balcony overlooking the magnificent streets and sip our champagne in peace and serenity. The air is a perfect temperature, and I can feel the moonlight wash over my face as I close my eyes in relaxation. I am almost falling asleep when we meander inside to our bedroom; I put on my grey silk pajamas and crawl into my luscious bed. Curled up with my pillow and down-filled duvet I feel content and I can't help but think that this day has been very ideal. I whisper "Goodnight" to Carter, turn off the lights, and doze into the most peaceful slumber.

Miami Paradise

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Brendan Kirby

Mr. Newman

ENG2D

September 19, 2011

 Miami Paradise


           I jolt awake. I notice that more sunlight is peeking through the cracks in the blinds than when I awake at my usual 7:45am time. The warmth of the Miami rays against my skin feels nice. I can faintly smell the aroma of bacon wafting in the air. It suddenly hits me that it's Saturday, my favourite day of the week. I stretch out on my new ultra plush mattress and glance at my bedside table. The clock reads 10:03am. I reach over and grab the iPad from my wife's side of the bed. I turn on the tablet and scan to my recorded shows. Just as I say, "Go to Dexter", my wife, Selena, walks into the bedroom.

"Oh, you're awake," she says. Selena is beautiful and has long blonde hair. Her voice is soft and soothing. She is holding a plate filled with slices of bacon, eggs and some toast. In her other hand is a tall glass of cold orange juice. It's my favourite breakfast. After she hands me my food, I thank her for making breakfast. I can't help but smile at how well the day has started off.

After the hour-long episode of Dexter ends, I decide to take a nice hot shower. Since my bathroom windows get the most sun in the morning, it is my favourite place to take a shower. I step out of the shower into the cold temperature of the room. I dry off and walk into my massive walk-in closet with my towel wrapped around me. I choose my favourite weekend clothes and put on a Diamond Supply t-shirt, a pair of khaki shorts, a Billionaire Boys Club sweater, a brown pair of boat shoes, a gold Rolex, and a Chicago Bulls TISA snapback. I grab my Smartphone, wallet, and keys from my bedside table. As soon as I put my Smartphone in my pocket, it vibrates. It's the receptionist calling from my company, BK Records. My client, Wiz Khalifa, a famous Hip Hop artist, wants to meet for lunch at noon. I tell Selena, quickly kiss her goodbye, and head out the front door. I can't decide whether to take my Ferrari or my new black Shelby Mustang gt500. I decide to take the Shelby, and drive off.

I arrive at The Beachview, an expensive seafood restaurant. I walk in and the owner seats me at my usual table on the patio overlooking the ocean. I order a large black coffee and the waiter brings me a morning paper. An article about BK Records catches my eye. The story is about three of my clients that have been nominated for awards at the Video Music Awards I am attending tonight. Just as I put down the paper, Wiz takes a seat beside me. From the smile on his face, I can tell he is in a good mood. I light up a cigar and we discuss our record deal. Wiz runs his acceptance speech by me in case he wins an award.

After our meeting, I hop back into the leather seat of my Mustang. On my way home, I stop by my friend Greg's. He offers me a quick refreshing beer. We talk about what life was like back when we were at St. John's Kilmarnock School in Breslau, and all the good times we had there.

Afterwards, I head back home to meet up with Selena so we can be at our private jet on time for our flight to Toronto. Selena has already packed me a bag and I thank her with a hug. While we wait for our limo, we have a cold drink beside the Olympic-sized pool in our backyard. After basking in the sun, we hear the limo's tires shift the gravel in our driveway. We lock the back door, activate the alarm, grab our bags, and lock the front door behind us. The driver throws our luggage into the trunk of the black Hummer limo and we hop into the back seats. I pour myself a glass of scotch and flip down the 25-inch flat screen to watch the Dolphins game.

The limo drops us off beside the stairs of our private jet. Inside the plane, it is luxurious. There is a hot tub in the back, chandeliers hanging from the roof, four beds, two couches, and a 72-inch plasma screen. I order some lobster from the stewardess, and in no time, it is sitting in front of me, fresh and steaming. After my meal, I lean back against the headrest on the couch. Next thing I know, the plane is landing at Pearson Airport in Toronto. Selena has also fallen asleep, so I gently wake her up.

As we step outside, a cold breeze sends shivers through my body. It is a lot colder in Toronto than in Miami and the air is dry. We head over to a stretch limo and quickly jump in. I feel the warmth of the heater on my face. We drive to the Air Canada Centre to watch the Toronto Raptors play the Chicago Bulls. Though the game is sold out, we have courtside seats reserved for us. Since we are V.I.P's, we walk through a much shorter line, and get into the arena faster than everyone else. When the game begins, Toronto takes an early lead, but Chicago is trailing close behind them. Selena also loves basketball, and I can tell that she is enjoying the game.

As the end of the game nears, Chicago is down two points. Chicago has the ball and there are four seconds left on the shot clock. The Bulls inbound the ball, dribble it up the court and pass it to my favorite player, Derrick Rose. He drains a three-pointer to win the game! The crowd goes wild, but I have no time to join in. We rush out of the stadium, hop back into the limo, and go straight to the Video Music Awards. We have front row seats, and I am quite excited for the night.

We are escorted to our seats. We sit down right next to the famous rapper Jay-Z and his wife, Beyoncé Knowles. They autograph my program, and we discuss the possibility of working together in the future. During the VMA's, I am mentioned in three thank-you speeches and am very proud of my accomplishments. When the evening ends, we head outside to find the waiting limo. Instead, we are surprised to find my parents, who cancelled the limo, and are there to pick us up themselves. We hop into the warm Acura MDX. During the ride home to Guelph, we talk about what we have been doing lately and how our lives are going. By the time we are home, I am exhausted and ready for sleep. I go inside and head straight to my old bedroom. It has green walls and two small twin beds. It looks exactly the same as I last left it.

I walk across the hall to the guest room and hop right into bed with Selena. The sheets are cold, but it feels nice, and I can't help but fall into a deep sleep.

Simplicity

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Tristan Mills

Mr. Newman

ENG2D-B

21 March, 2011

 

Simplicity

 

I wake up suddenly. Another dream, I think to myself, slowly coming to my senses. I find myself lying on my back staring at the dull ceiling. The blinds are closed, but I can tell that it's still dark out. The clock says it's 6:00, and at moments like these I see just how much the days are getting shorter.

            A little more awake now, I turn my head to look around the room. It's a fairly simple room: plain, yet modern in style. My eyes move across the ceiling again and over to my side. There, precariously balanced on the edge of the bed is my wife, Sarah. Her back is to me, so I can't see her well, especially in this lighting. But her scent I can smell. It's a nice smell that always surrounds her. I don't know whether it's perfume, shampoo, or a pheromone undiscovered by science. No matter what the source is, her smell always makes me feel safe and happy. It's not fruity, or some kind of cleaning agent smelling, it's... right. It's the right kind of smell.

            I start feeling my energy come back, so I slowly make my way out of bed making sure to be quiet. I make my way over to the dresser, and pull out my clothes for the day.

            I head to the shower connected to our bedroom and make sure the water that's running is cooler than warm. I always start my days this way. It especially helps me in the morning to wake up.

            I'm quite cool when I stop the water, so I quickly towel off and put my clothes on. My mind always wanders in the shower, so it's a good thing to do before I do my writing for the day.

            I head down the hall from the bedroom and enter my study. It's a very small room, with only a large desk underneath the window. I reach out over it and close the curtains. There will be light soon and I want to stay in the dark while I write. Finally I sit down on my well-oiled office chair, turn on my computer, and open the half finished draft of my novel.

            I have a plan for the story I'm writing but because of how hard I've been thinking of the next part, I got that dream last night. It was different from what I had in mind:

            Right now in my plan, the main character and his group continue on with their "quest" only to find out how important it is that they complete it, right before they enter the hardest part. But in my dream, they stumble across the Purgatory. It's a very scary place, but the point of it is, they were going to come here anyway, but this early on, they will start having doubts about their ability as they continue on.

            Now that I'm thinking about it, it seemed better in my dream. Oh well, it will spark more character conflict this way.

            I start typing. In what feels like moments later, I'm starting another chapter. And another. And another. Very soon I realize I'm in a kind of groove with my writing. I know what happens next, and what I'm about to type, but every word comes out as if I'm seeing it for the first time. It's almost like I'm reading it, except more. It's like I'm experiencing it as the events happen. I stand by my characters and watch them as they wander the long, stony halls of the Purgatory. I run with them as they run in terror. It is like I am there living with them through their lives.

            Finally at the end of an important part I take a short break to rest my eyes. I see that it's already 10:20. It's the weekend so Sarah will be making brunch sometime soon. I feel satisfied with the writing I have done this morning so I hit save, check my e-mail, and power down, all in under a minute.

            I leave my study, and I feel very overwhelmed by all the light right outside the door. I head downstairs and soon find myself engulfed with the smell of Sarah's famous hash browns, and bacon. She is standing in the kitchen apparently waiting for the hash browns to finish in the oven. They don't normally take long so I should be eating shortly.

            Our eyes catch, and we smile at each other. I move over to her and embrace her tightly as she says good morning and asks how my writing went.

            I say that I changed the plot slightly, changing the order of events. Sarah asks some more specific questions, but I don't answer them. Whenever I try to explain my writings before they're 100% complete, I sound like I'm crazy. Whatever I say also sounds really stupid, which is another reason I don't say anything because it'll just spoil the experience later.

            Sarah is partly annoyed and partly understanding about my hesitation to talk about it.

            We eat while we talk about everything else. Our conversation ranges from her job, to the upcoming election, to the new moon project that NASA is planning.

            Sarah's cooking is good as always, and after brunch we clean the dishes together. Once everything is clean we call over our golden retriever, Anna.

            We grab her leash, put on our shoes and coats, and head outside. We walk on the side of the street at first but very soon we are on the trail. This path through the woods is where we always go when we walk.

            The trees are tall and alive with colour. The yellows and reds swirl about as the wind picks up and knocks a few leaves into the air. The path isn't quite covered in leaves, though I suspect in a week's time it will be.

            Sarah and I walk silently, hand in hand, with Anna pulling us along with her leash. Every day we all take a walk out here, even in the middle of winter, rain or shine. We go by the motto: "There is no bad weather; just bad clothing." But I don't just go walking for exercise; it provides me time to think about what I'll be writing next. Sometimes I get so zoned out that I can't even remember having gone as far as we did.

            As we walk on and on, I start feeling my awareness going away and my imagination creeping in. I made sure not to think about the fact too much or I'd just snap out of it.

            Time quickly goes by, and we are back at the house. As we always do on weekends, Sarah and I spend the early afternoon playing music. I am on guitar and singing, and she is on the piano, and singing too.

            The guitar I play on isn't anything special, though I have had it for just over ten years. It has shiny new strings, and polished tuning pegs. The wood is orangey, yellow, and full of dents -- literally full, there wasn't a single square inch without some kind of dent or scratch. Luckily, most of them are small and can't be seen from a distance. But even more important, it sounds amazing.

            Sarah and I play our small repertoire of songs, mostly written by ourselves. We're making sure to iron out any big mistakes because in just a week we'll be the evening entertainment at a local café.

            We play until we both feel confortable with our music, and until our hands can no longer bear the strain. Sarah takes a quick look at the clock then jumps up and grabs her things. She wishes me goodbye rather suddenly and then rushes out the door. It occurs to me as the door closes that she was going out with some of her friends this afternoon. We must have been playing longer than she thought.

            I take this opportunity to grab my book and read, something I struggle doing consistently these days. I grab the thick book and sit on the sofa in the living room. Before I open the book, Anna comes up to the sofa and stares me in the eye with the puppy dog pout. I tap the cushion and she immediately takes the invitation and curls herself up on the other end of the sofa.

            The book I'm reading is an old one; it was written in 1995, a bit over thirty years ago! And I only first read it fifteen years ago. It's a strange book: it's about wolves in Europe, the gods they worship and their struggle for survival as the dark ages come to a close. This is probably one of the reasons why I don't explain stories very well; I only read the crazy ones growing up. But it's a fascinating read with lots of mystery and talking animals, my favorite.

            Once again, the time flies as I read it, and before I know it Sarah is back. She tells me all of the latest news amongst her friends, no matter how crazy it may be. It's about suppertime, so we get ready and head out to the restaurant.

It takes us about four minutes to get to where we have our reservation. It's a simple restaurant, but the atmosphere is great. And the food is even better. Sarah and I get taken to our table and we order immediately. She orders the fish and chips and coke, and I get chicken fingers and fries, with white milk. From a very young age, neither of us has had anything different, from any restaurant, which makes it so we can get the food sooner.

After a short conversation our food arrives. It smells so good, but once I take a bite of the chicken, it becomes even better. We dine until our meals have almost completely left the plate, then we ask for the bill, we pay, and leave.

We get home and it's dark outside. As always, tonight is our movie night, so we go straight for the sofa, turn on the adjacent TV, and start up Netflix. Every movie night, we each choose two movies, no matter how long they are, and we stay up until we get through them. Sarah chooses Inception, and I choose Alien, our two favorite movies.

There is a great clash and blend of science fiction, fantasy, suspense, and horror as the night drifts away. Sarah and I are on the verge of falling asleep as the final credits roll. We turn the lights off, lock the doors, and make our way to bed. I have a very quick shower before finally curling up.

As I fall asleep I think about how I wish everyday could be like this; simple, fun, and full of time spent with the woman I love.