October 2011 Archives

            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.

I wake up with my sheets knotted around me like a snake. I crawl out of bed and 

slowly open the blinds. Its a beautiful sunny day over Paris. I don my robe and walk into the bathroom. I look around the bathroom, it's very simple, a shower, a white sink, there are blue tiles on the floor and walls. My Doberman Maxamillion comes to greet me with a lick and a sniff. The time is seven a.m. I sit down at my large oak breakfast table to a breakfast of croissants and jam that I have prepared for myself. I get on my jogging pants and a t shirt and then go for a light jog over to Notre Dame cathedral. I run slowly back home. 

I open the door on my large apartment. It's a massive contemporary place with many expensive paintings on the walls. Most of it is white walled with oak floors. I walk into my study, which smells of mahogany and leather bound books. I put Bach on the stereo and begin reading a book about a corporal in the Second World War who survives a plane crash. It is an enthralling book so I continue reading it until I decide to have some green tea at around nine o'clock. I then continue to my office to manage my shipping companies' ledgers and prepare a presentation for the board of directors who meet next month. I take Maxamillion out for a walk at nine thirty, he barks at various squirrels and other dogs. Maxamillion does his business, and I stoop and scoop as a good dog owner would. 

I go home again and put on a suit.  I put on black pants, a belt, a white shirt, a red tie and a black jacket. I go to the underground parking in my apartment building. I take out my keys and unlock my Mercedes. I drive slowly through Paris. Around the various round abouts. Surprisingly not getting stuck in any of them for any time. 

I decide to drive down a random alley way. I park and get out. I walk down the alley seeing some of the largest blocks of cheese I've ever seen. I walk slowly into a crepe shop and order a ham and cheese crepe and a Nutella crepe. I watch the employee put the dough on the hot plate in a thin layer and then he puts ham and cheese on it. I eat the crepe. The finest one yet. Just the right amount of ham

and cheese. I take one bite savoring the taste.

At ten o'clock I decide to meet my friend Jonathan at the Eiffel tower. We buy our tickets, and instead of taking the elevator we opt to take the stairs. The Eiffel tower is milling with enthusiastic tour groups, tourists and a few soldiers. All of them are amazed by a sight that I now consider quite common in my daily life. We take the arduous journey up to the first viewing deck. I overlook the general area and see the river, the parks with people picnicking. Jonathan says to me "hard to believe you live here isn't it?" and I say slowly "a little bit". Me and Jonathan discuss the various merits of living in France and Paris and make the decision that although very beautiful and rich with history, the tourists and the traffic are horrendous. Jonathan and I take the stairs to the third and final viewing deck. We overlook the whole of Paris. Most of the buildings are six stories tall and white with black railings. When the city of Paris burned to the ground in the sixteen hundreds Napoleon, the ruler at the time, decided to rebuild the whole of the city with six story tall, white buildings. I appreciate his choice because I am a fan of neat looking things that have a uniform pattern. Most cities have a mixed pattern, like a pair of patched hobo pants. However in Paris this is not the case. Paris is a wonderful paisley throughout the city. 

At eleven o' clock me and Jonathan decide to go back to my apartment and play a few rounds of pool. We arrive at the apartment and open the door. The dog bursts out of the study and greets Jonathan, Maxamillion always has loved Jonathan. 

We walk into the pool room and rack up the balls. I invite Jonathan to break and he sinks the orange three ball. We play pool for about an hour and a half, bringing the time to twelve thirty. Jonathan beat me every time. Then Jonathan and I indulged in some forty year old brandy. It was disgusting, but it made me feel rich which is what I like. So I drank it. By the time Jonathan left it was around five o'clock. 

I made myself a turkey dinner, Complete with roasted carrots, parsnips, turnips, turkey and mashed potatoes. I feed Maxamillion the same dinner I had. Then curled up with a good book and a cigar, I ponder what my life is like for a moment.

I live alone. Except for my dog Max, no girlfriend and no children. However I do enjoy the way I live life. I live it at my leisure, and how I want to. After finishing a degree in international commerce I decided to open my own shipping company. After finding several investors that were mostly family, I hired many people to manage my company for me. This has payed off massively considering I work maybe one or two hours a day. Thats not too long and the work isn't very difficult. I have no people to care for but myself. I live by my own rules, I make my own hours and can sleep until whenever I want. This has been one of the best days yet, possibly my ideal day.

I wake up to the sun shining brightly, but gently, over my body. It is entering through my large sliding glass doors and fills my room in a matter of seconds. I am not in any rush because my work can be done at my house and I only need to do it during certain weeks; I am the current head designer for the clothing company Supreme. Once I get up I turn on my large flat screen 3D TV and watch the morning news.

Once I am feeling a little motivated I get myself a cup of coffee and go onto my balcony. I live in a contemporary glass house that is built on a cliff so my balcony hangs over the edge and I have a stunning view of the Turks and Caicos Islands and the perfect turquoise Atlantic Ocean. When my coffee is done I head to my kitchen and make waffles with whipped cream, icing sugar, and a side of bacon.

Once I am full and energized I call up my brother Haydn to ask if he can drive my boat while I wakeboard. He agrees and when he comes over he takes the chair lift down the cliff, and I longboard, to a beach and body of water that I discovered about a year ago. It is hidden inside the cliff and no one but me and my family know about it. When we get to the spot I head into the water.

Wakeboarding is one of my favorite things to do and I have been doing it for 15 years now. I started in the summer of 2011. Wakeboarding is just like waterskiing but you are on a board instead. Some tricks include front flips, back flips, 360's etc.

I stay on the water for about two hours. I do three full airborne 360's, a back flip, and get a lot of air. When I start to get tired we head back up to my house. My brother stays for a while and we hang out. We play football, video games, long board/skateboard and just talk. At about 12:30 my brother leaves and I get a call from a hip/hop collective called OFWGKTA, lead by Tyler the Creator. They want to have lunch with me and discuss various matters. I agree, and suggest a place to eat. The place I suggest just opened a few days ago and has delicious and extremely fresh food. It offers everything conch, as well as burgers, sandwiches and other staples.

We are supposed to meet at 1:00PM so I decide to go get ready. I take a steam shower which looks over the water and then get dressed. Because I am the head designer at Supreme and fashion is close to me, I have a very large wardrobe. I have all the new Supreme clothes as well as clothes from many companies that have partnered with Supreme.

For lunch, my outfit is this, Ti$a Get $ sneakers, khaki supreme shorts, Supreme x Bape box logo t-shirt, red short sleeve Supreme button up, Ti$a denim jacket, three Good Wood bracelets, ceramic, silver and carbon fiber Hublot big bang watch, and a Supreme x Bape camp cap.

When I am dressed and ready I get in my gun metal 1967 Shelby Ford Mustang Gt500. This car is my prized possession. I have spent a lot of time and money tuning and upgrading this car with after-market parts. It has automatic, soft leather seats, a Bang & Olufsen stereo system, touch screen radio/navigation system (with a built in 3D TV), two cans of nitrous oxide, a suspension upgrade, power steering, and a lot more under the hood. The car has 500 horsepower and tops out at 200 Mph.

I drive to the restaurant and OFWGKTA is there and they are waiting for me. I rush over to the table and order cracked conch and a rum punch. During lunch we talk about their music and future projects they are working on, also we talk about the group partnering with Supreme and releasing a limited edition series of a concert type shirt, a Wolf Haley t shirt, a Wolf Haley hoodie and a OF hoodie, as well as a camp cap. These items would only go for sale in the Los Angeles Supreme store and the Supreme and OFWGKTA websites. Once we have eaten and the bill has been paid I say my goodbyes and head home.

When I get home I decide to go skimboarding on my pond built specifically to do so. Skimboarding is a sport where you have a board shaped like a mini surfboard, but it is very thin. In order to skimboard effectively you need a very shallow area, 2-3 inches of water is perfect. You slide the board along the water then hop on it and slide with it until it slows down and stops. I dug my pond with a special tractor, and then placed a waterproof rubber material down and filled the pond with water. It is 100 x 15 feet, and has a rail and two ramps. After I have boarded for a while, just before I am about to go in I land the trick I have been trying for a while, a boardslide onto the rail and a 360 pop shove it off.

By the time I am done I am completely exhausted, so I go to my room to relax. I turn on my TV and watch a UFC fight night. The main event is Georges St. Pierre V.S. Anderson Silva. The fights last for an hour. The main event is called a tie and a rematch will be scheduled.

After the fight, I call my family over for dinner. My family is on the island, so they come over and make a delicious meal called cheeseburger soup, which is made with ground beef, cheese, French fries, and whatever else you put on a burger.

For dinner I wear, Sebago docksides, Supreme khaki dress pants, a white Supreme oxford shirt, a Bape tie, and a gold Hublot geneve big bang. Dinner is delicious and filling.

After dinner I talk with my family for a few hours and they eventually go home at 10:00PM. When they go home, I go to my bed and watch Kill Bill 4, the newest film by my favorite writer/director, Quentin Tarantino. As soon as the movie ends I become utterly exhausted and fall into an immediately deep sleep. 

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.

The Concrete Jungle

I wake up at 6:00 a.m., but the city never sleeps. I smoothly roll out of my Egyptian cotton sheets and slip off my black silk pajamas, trying to make as little noise as possible so I do not disturb my boyfriend. I placidly walk over to my overstuffed black loveseat, where my Lululemon running tights and their new active wear top awaits me. I slide on my Asics running shoes, pull my hair into a high ponytail, grab my iPod, and make my way to the door of my loft. I soundlessly shut the door behind me, so that I do not awaken my boyfriend from his sound sleep. Once I arrive on the first floor of my building, with the assistance of the elevator operator dressed in his usual clean, crisp, red uniform, I step outside and smell the disgusting, yet addicting, smell of New York City. I push my headphones into my ears, and press play on my iPod. "E.T. Dubstep Remix" commences with a thunderous pulse. I take my first step and quickly begin to feel the groove. My feet connect with the music and gracefully move to the same rhythm.

At 7:30 a.m., I am back at the base of my building, breathing hard but feeling rejuvenated. I open the door, step inside my loft, and see my appealing and adorable boyfriend making my egg-white omelet. I kick off my shoes and walk toward my bathroom. My feet feel the transition from the hardwood floors of my kitchen to the soft carpet of my bedroom, to the marble heated floor of my bathroom. I turn the handle of the shower and patiently wait until the water warms up. I cautiously step in and feel the warm water caressing my skin. When I am clean and refreshed, I step out of the shower, wrap my white fluffy housecoat around my body, and stand inside my massive closet.

            Choosing what to wear is probably the most difficult decision of my day. People don't understand. I have a lot of clothes! All of which are utterly adorable! After thoroughly examining all of my outfits, I choose the perfect one for today - black pencil skirt, with a peach-coloured chiffon ruffle top, black patent pumps, and my black Chanel bag with the gold logo and the leather straps. I dress my ears with nothing but my Tiffany pearls, my left wrist is wearing a gold, diamond encrusted Rolex watch, and my gold Links bracelet that my boyfriend bought me, on my right.

            I saunter back into the bathroom, and take out my MAC cosmetics. Once I have applied my makeup, ensuring that both eyes are uniform and not looking excessive, I take on the challenge of grooming my hair. This can be a hair-raising experience, as it is extremely thick and unmanageable. I leave it natural today, long and wavy.

            I stroll into the kitchen to find my steamy spinach and feta cheese omelet lying on a plate, accompanied with a side of fruit and a glass of orange juice. I sit at the granite countertop by the window that overlooks 5^th Avenue, and consume my breakfast, as the sun rises and begins to deflect off the extensively tall glass buildings. I am soon ready for work.

            As I am walking to work, I pass by Saks, Louis Vuitton, Prada, and Ralph Lauren. I see Starbucks on the corner of 34^th Street, and I hurry and get in line. I'm finally at the counter and quickly tell the handsome new barista my order. He is new because his nametag says "Joe - In Training." Well, Joe takes a good ten minutes to make my latte, and he forgets to make it extra hot, but I give him a tip because he is just learning. My gold Rolex watch reads 8:57a.m. I only have three minutes to get to work! It takes me a second to remember that I do not actually have a set time to be at work. I just accepted the position as the editor for Vogue magazine, so I can be at work anytime I want. However, I scurry across the street because I know I have a lot of stuff to do. I walk a couple of blocks, and within 15 minutes I am standing in front of a tall silver building. I walk through the glass doors, past the security desk, across the lobby, into the elevator, and up to the 10^th floor. I greet my secretary, Francois, and continue down the hall to my office.

            My office is huge. Natural light shines on my Apple computer, which sits upright on my gleaming white lacquer desk. My wingback desk chair and the high-backed guest chairs are dark in colour and made of crocodile leather. A fireplace is strategically placed along the left wall, with a large 60-inch television mounted above it. Pure white leather upholsters a wing chair and a straight-lined sofa. Cream coloured lamps surround the furniture. It is my home away from home. As I approach my office door I see my clients lined up and waiting for me; my phone is ringing off the hook. I love it! The hustle and bustle of busyness makes me thrive. After dealing with my initial clients and phone calls, I continue with the rest of my day which consists of looking at new trends, approving articles, and of course, having my chicken breast - grilled, with roasted tomatoes and basil mayo on a baguette, from Markt.

            It is now 5:00 p.m. and I am meeting my girlfriends for a drink at "The Boom Boom Room", yes that is where you heard about Madonna last week. At 7:00 p.m., I hail a cab and return to my loft. I step into the foyer and look around; I love how I have decorated the place. The floor throughout is white marble and the walls are off-white. The kitchen is small but includes stainless steel appliances and off-white satin sheened cabinets. High ceilings, polished floors, large immense windows, and black leather furniture create a modern yet sophisticated style. I give my boyfriend a kiss as he tells me he is taking me out for dinner to 230 FIFTH - the number one most romantic restaurant in New York City!

I am wearing my new black, one-shoulder dress with rhinestone studs that I bought last week from Barney's New York, with my black Christian Loubiton shoes accented with a red bow on each heel. At dinner, I order Chilean sea bass while my boyfriend orders a Porterhouse steak; the most expensive steak on the menu. White wine for me and red for him compliments our food quite nicely. We finish by sharing lemon sorbet.

            It is now 11:00 p.m. and getting late, yet we decide to take our black lab, Rover, for a walk through Central Park, the public park in the center of Manhattan. The trees stand tall and proud, like they know they are beautiful. We walk along the path beside the river. The water is still, not even a ripple disturbs its peace. We pass the Delacorte amphitheatre and several children's playgrounds. I feel at ease as the cool, yet warm air of the late August night, surrounds me.

            We make our way home... slowly but surely, and change into our pajamas. I delicately lift up the sheets and slide my body under them. The second my head hits the pillow I'm off.

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.

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.

I wake up before I can see the sun, still hidden behind the peaks of Verbier, Switzerland, about two hours from Geneva. It's a small village at the end of winding road that climbs up the mountain from the valley, one of the most beautiful places on earth, skier's paradise. My roommates and I eat cereal and orange juice and discuss excitedly how we think the day will go.

We head up the gondola at 8:00am. Once we reach the peak, all that's left do is seek out the powder, and shred till the last ride up. After a few hours we decide to take a lunch break. We ski down to one of the lodges on the mountain and all decide we're going to have pizzas. We laugh and joke for an hour or so and once we've digested decide to get back out. We suit up and get the gondola to a peak we haven't yet explored. Once off, we hike on a footpath for about an hour. A light snow begins to excite us as we imagine the lines we'd be carving and the cliffs we'd be launching off in minutes.

As we climb and climb we frequently look back to take in the view and breathe the fresh mountain air. The path starts to widen, and finally we reach the end and are in awe. In the distance we can just see the jagged peaks of the Matterhorn. We are all excited and take a short break to catch our breath and gaze out into the beautiful mountains. We talk about which lines we want to take as we begin to gear up again.  I drop in and my smile could not be broken. My roommates whoop and holler as I shred down the mountain face flipping and spinning off cornices and drops. I reach the bottom out of breath and glowing with adrenaline. I turn around to watch my friends tear down one by one, content that they are having as much fun as I am.

            Once we are all collected at the bottom, we observe our tracks and commend each other on how sick our lines were. We decide to stop in a nice open area of fresh powder to build a kicker that we would be able to double flip and boost off. We begin by removing our heavy jackets and gear so we can get out our compact shovels and begin to shape what will be our jump. It takes a lot of hard work and effort in the deep snow, but every one of us knows it will be more than worth it.

As we dig and shape our now massive booter, I think to myself about how lucky I am to be living here, and how amazing the three years living here have been. Surprisingly I get deep into thought, which is rare since I moved here, as I live so spontaneously. I never get a chance to reflect on how many good times I've had in Verbier. After an hour of building and digging, we have around five meters of take off, and 200 meters of landing run out. All that's left to do is hit it.

We leave our packs behind as we begin to hike up to the top of the run in, as the session is about to unfold. One of my roommates volunteers to go first, and as he blazes a trail down to the jump, we sit in silence waiting for him to spring up into the air. We see him pop up as he's about to take off and then he flies through the air, flipping off axis twice and reverting flawlessly just in time to land smoothly back in the powder. By now we are all so eager that our exhaustion is no longer a factor. We all take our turns, over and over until we decide to move on, and as we ski out of our massive snow field we all share the adrenaline from how epic the session was.

We ski and explore for a couple more hours. Once we can barely stay standing, we start to descend to the base of the mountain. Once we reach the bottom we make our way back to our house to take showers before we go out for dinner.

We relax and listen to music and sit in the hot tub talking about our day and joking. Then around 8:00 we leave the house to go to our favourite restaurant on the main strip of the village. We walk for about 10 minutes to the restaurant, and by the time we get to our table we can't wait to eat. We meet some friends at the restaurant and after our meals we sit for a while to talk and share stories, my roommates' and mine mostly about the legendary jump we had built hours before. Over an hour later, we go to a bar that we are regulars at.

We meet new people who are on vacation and some who recently moved here as well. We talk and socialize the night away and have a lot of fun. At around midnight we're ready to head home and have our daily rounds of euchre with our new friends. We decide to each pitch in five dollars a game to create a pretty decent pot, and I myself feel lucky tonight and can't take my eyes off the cash in the centre of the table.

Once the game is over, and I've lost more money than I won as usual, everyone is beat and we sit and talk for a little while longer. We decide to take our new friends on a tour of the mountains tomorrow, and they seem to quite enjoy the idea, so we say good night. The boys and I talk about the girls we had met and we all joked about who was getting who as we got ready for bed and wound down to lie in bed and look back on another outstanding day in Verbier.

I awoke at 8:47am on Tuesday in my small house on Lake Volga in Russia about 30km away from Moscow. I got out of bed and looked out my window and saw that I had been completely snowed in. I walked to the bathroom to take a nice warm shower. I stepped out and dried myself. After, when I was dry, I wrapped the towel around my waist and brushed my teeth.

I was feeling a little bit chilly, so I went into my room to put on my track pants and sweater to keep warm. I started to get hungry so I walked into the kitchen to make myself a grilled cheese sandwich for breakfast. As the aroma leaked into my bedroom, my Husky named Viktor awoke and strolled into the kitchen to find me. While I was waiting for the breakfast to finish cooking, I gave Viktor his food and water. As we were enjoying our delicious meals, I remembered I had a snowmobile race at 12:00pm this afternoon in Moscow. I quickly finished my breakfast and ran to the closet. I put my jacket, snow pants, gloves, and hat on to go clear the snow so I could leave.

I ran to my garage to start up the snow blower. I opened the garage door to find three feet of snow piled up on my driveway and I felt the cold air in my lungs as I took a deep breath. After an hour and a half of shoveling snow I had cleared enough to get out of the garage. I parked the snow blower and went inside the house to grab the keys to my snowmobile. I started the engine then went back inside to let it warm up. When I got inside, I saw Viktor waiting in the doorway with his favourite orange toy in his mouth. I took the toy from him and we went outside to throw it around. I threw the orange frisbee as far as I could, and Viktor ran and got it, and when he came back he was covered in snow from head to tail. I brushed him off and threw the toy again and again. After five or ten minutes of playing, I could see that Viktor was getting cold so I picked him up and brought him inside. I toweled him dry then patted him on the back and left for my race. As I was leaving the house I turned around and saw him watching and waiting to see me leave the driveway on the machine with his paws up on the windowsill looking at me.

I put on my helmet, gloves, boots and goggles then jumped on the snowmobile, drove it out and shut the garage door. It was now 11:10 am. I had to drive fast to the course to try to get at least 15 minutes of practice in before the race. I was driving along the trail, when I saw a giant snow mound that I thought could potentially be a jump, so I turned off the trail and drove up and down the takeoff to pack down the snow. After a few minutes of packing down the snow, I drove around and lined up to give it a go. I nailed it and flew off the jump then decided to do a back flip in the air. After landing the jump, I got back on the trail and continued on towards the racecourse.

I arrived at the course at 11:43am and signed in to enter the race. Then at 11:47am, I was on the course practicing. It was now 11:58am and the officials were beginning to call everybody off the track to get lined up to start the race. When I was waiting at the start line I looked to my left and saw an old friend named Jake, but before he noticed me he put on his helmet and got on his snowmobile. I didn't race too well today and only finished 5^th. After the race, I met up with Jake and started talking to him and invited him back to my place to catch up, but he couldn't come. So I decided to stop at the bar on the way home to have a drink or two with my friends Sergei and Reznov. I got to "Miroslav's Bar" and stepped inside to see that my two friends were already there waiting for me. They greeted me with a loud yell and a hug and escorted me to the table. When I sat down, two shots of Vodka were waiting for me, I drank them both. Then Reznov asked me about my race, I told him what I placed. After 30 minutes of talking with my pals, I got up, said my goodbyes and went home to play with Viktor.

 When I got home, I pulled into the garage and took off my gear and went inside. Viktor was faithfully waiting for me, so I took him outside so he could pee. I went back inside to watch a movie, turned on the TV and found that Pineapple Express was playing, so I went to the cabinet in the kitchen, and grabbed a bag of Doritos', then turned around and sat down on the couch and watched the movie. When the movie finished I decided to go take a nap, so I walked to my room and hopped into bed. Viktor jumped up and fell asleep on the end the bed with me.

At 4:00pm, I woke up and thought I would go cross-country skiing. I put on a light jacket and snow pants and grabbed my boots and skis and stepped out the front door to look at the sun low in the sky. I went out for a  two hour trek and then returned home.

 I was really hungry, looking in the freezer I found a rack of ribs. I brought them inside and filled a pan with water and put it on the stove to boil. When the water was boiling, I put the ribs in and then went outside to start the barbeque. Back inside, I grabbed the ribs and took them outside to put them on the grill. I sat down on the couch and turned on the TV to watch some Top Gear while the ribs were cooking. I flipped the ribs once and brushed them with BBQ sauce. Once they were perfectly grilled, I put them on a plate and took them to the table to eat. After dinner, I washed the dishes then went outside to play with Viktor. I came back inside after 10 or 15 minutes and hopped in the shower to warm up. When I was done I jumped into bed to listen to music. I put on my headphones, selected "In The Air Tonight" by "Phil Collins", closed my eyes and fell asleep.

July 2^nd, 2024:  I am surrounded by thousands of different animals of all shapes and sizes; a feeling of warmth and comfort comes over me.  All of a sudden I feel a wet, slimy tongue licking my hand; I begin to feel frightened and panic stricken.  I hear a growling ruckus and the familiar annoyance of dogs barking and whining.  It is then that I realize that my miniature schnauzer Sofie is trying to wake me up the only way she knows how.  As I open my eyes I see the spectacular views of Lake Simcoe outside my bedroom window.  My lake house is my home, where my heart truly is. It is a four bedroom, three bath, state of the art semi-mansion.  The kitchen is fully equipped with granite counter tops and iron chef appliances (despite the fact that I don't cook, my boyfriend does!). 

  I stare at my collection of clothes, overflowing from my closet, along with sets of old family photos and pictures from important events.  I step out of bed and feel the cool, stone floor on my feet.  I walk over to my closet and pull out a new outfit for the day, while Sofie rubs up against my leg. 

I walk downstairs and peer out the window.  The sun is shining, the water is calm and the light breeze is perfect, perfect for windsurfing.  The time is now 10AM and I see that my boyfriend has left me a smoked salmon bagel and a pot of brewed coffee (which I quickly inhale!). 

After I have finished my breakfast, I put on my bikini and grab a lifejacket.  I eagerly jump into the water, my three dogs right behind me.  It takes me a couple of minutes to properly position the windsurfer and get started, but eventually I manage to get going.  When I windsurf my mind is empty, the wind is in my hair and the focus takes over.  I sail around the bay for what feels like hours!  I look back at my lake house and see my dogs basking in the sun on the dock.  It is now 12:00, and I decide it is time to go in. 

I get changed backed into my clothes (designed by Alejandra Garcia of course!) and I walk out to my 2023 Porsche Hover car, the second of its kind.  My three dogs and I begin to drive 7 minutes to my vet clinic as we float above the freshly tarred road below.  We pass by thousands of homes, all looking the same, as well as partially developed farmland.  I wind down my window and my nose begins to tingle, as I smell the thick dirty air. 

I arrive to the humble noise of happy dogs barking and playing.  I see my cousin, walking towards the door to warmly greet us.  We go inside and I change into my lab coat.  My first patient is a newborn puppy from the humane society in for his first check up.  He is a happy-go-lucky, cute as a button Weimaraner named Phineas.  He is a perfect, healthy pup, just in need of a good home.  I decide he would be a great addition to our family and within 10 minutes I have another new companion. 

My cousin PB and I go out for a late lunch to a local restaurant.  I have a delectable tuna tartar and seafood pasta.  My cousin and I are talking over the next step we would like to take with our business.  I remember about a month ago when we were given an unimaginable gift of winning the lottery.  This win of 25 million enabled us to fine tune our vet clinic in order to make it the best and most well known in the country.  PB is the best co-owners and cousin I could ever ask for we work great together.  I begin to flashback to when we were 12 years old and used to imagine opening our clinic together, and working with the animals we love; this is a reality now.  My cousin takes care of the check and we depart, returning to the clinic. 

It is now about 4:00 and I arrive home after a wonderful workday.  I am having my family over for dinner and a bonfire tonight.  My boyfriend arrives home not long after me.  We look at one another and both of our eyes light up.  My boyfriend begins preparing for dinner as we will be having a turkey roast and potatoes.  While the dinner is cooking my boyfriend, I and our three dogs and one puppy hop in the boat and go for a romantic ride.

We cruise along various bays, until we begin to slow down to watch the sunset.  I see my boyfriend reach into his pocket and pull out a small, delicate blue box. My stomach begins to clench up, as I begin to realize what is about to happen.  I come to terms with myself and I hear those desired but feared words, "Will you marry me?"

  I jokingly respond with an "I'll have to think about it."  Then I quickly respond with a heartfelt "Yes!" as my new husband and I plummet from the boat into the cool water below. 

Once the sun has set we arrive back at the lake house.  Shortly after that my family begins to arrive, each of them noticing my new and never before seen engagement ring.  It is a five-carat, Tiffany & Co. diamond ring that I have always dreamed of.  After about 15 kisses on the cheek, 15 hugs, 15 "OMG, Congrats! And over 200 text messages, my family and I finally sit down to dinner.  The turkey roast is moist, flavorful and irresistible as it dances on my tongue.  The potatoes are fresh, right out of the garden and are also delectable!  After devouring a 7-pound turkey and 15 potatoes, my family and I move the celebration outside in front of a bonfire. 

I look up to the sky and see thousands of stars, twinkling and shimmering, alongside a full harvest moon.  The bonfire smells of smoke, and rich cedar wood as the flames dance beneath the moonlight.  My family and I laugh and talk for what feels like hours! It is now 11:00 and my niece and nephew's sugar high from the chocolate smores has gone and they have fallen asleep on the couch inside, alongside my dogs. 

I look down at my diamond ring twinkling in the light of the stars and the moon.  I think back to all of the wonderful memories throughout my life, as I begin to slowly smile.  My mother peers over at me smiling and looks me in the eye.  I look back at her.  We both stare at each other, both of us waiting for someone to speak.  My mother then starts the conversation with "So, when's the wedding?"  After 10 minutes or so, when my father has finished interrogating my fiancé, he joins the conversation, ending with an "I love you." from both my mother and father. 

I am 14 years old.  My brother, my cousins and I are out in a meadow surrounded by our dogs, barking, laughing and dancing under the sun.  I see flowers and butterflies accompanied by the smell of wet dew and spring rain.  I begin to run, gradually taking off and flying high into the sky.  I see my mother and father slowly becoming less visible.  I begin to fly faster and faster, so fast every object and shape is blurred together.  Suddenly I hear Phineas snuggle up against my side and I am transported out of my dream.  I look over at my nightstand and in the blink of an eye the perfect day has ended; it is 12:01 AM and is now officially the start of a brand new day. 

 Saturday September 1^st, 2026

Today, I wake up to the fresh smell of brewed coffee, bacon and pastries. Without getting up, I can hear the waves crash outside my bedroom window. My soft, silk bedding (imported from Italy), straps me to the bed, as I don't want to wake up. Nonetheless, breakfast smells too compelling and I begin the short walk towards the kitchen.

In the attempt to find my husband, I wander across the kitchen and pass the magnificent art piece by Tom Thomson that hangs on our main kitchen wall.  As I take a minute to admire the kaleidoscope of colours and the confusing sky, my husband sneaks up on me to give me a good morning kiss. Together, we have a mouth-watering meal in our small breakfast nook and talk about our plans for the day, relatives, and our past memories; the list goes on. 

Once breakfast is devoured and my husband leaves for his office, I take a long time in my waterfall shower. After I put on my monogrammed Terry bathrobe, I walk into the heavenly paradise that is my closet. My $70 000 clothing budget allows me to own everything from a Carolina Herrera ball gown to a soft pair of J brand blue jeans. Today I put on my favourite Ralph Lauren dress of the season and head to work.

            I get in my Mercedes, where the hot black leather seats burn my legs. Driving to work is enjoyable because I can see a calming view of the ocean and a peaceful view of my neighborhood. I see that the ocean tide that's going in and out is in harmony with the music that blasts in my car, and the day is already wonderful.

            Entering the tremendously large glass doors of Vogue, I know that today's workday must be more productive than most. I begin by viewing the editorial photos taken in the Versailles gardens, seeing where they go in the page-by-page layout of this issue. I am relieved to see that the director of the shoot followed my specific directions. "SIMPLICITY, SIMPLICITY, SIMPLICITY! I cannot stress that enough!" Good job Paul! Next, I have a long conversation with the featured designer of September, Angelica Santisteban. I spotted her in Milan where she quickly went from "Nada to Prada". Her intuitive personality and sense of fashion direction will truly take her further than it already has.

I invite her to have an early lunch with me, so together we drive to Angelica's favorite restaurant, where I happen to bump into my close friend, Rachel Hunter and her four dogs. By coincidence, Angelica was already designing clothes for Rachel. What a small world! The food is delicious there, especially the calamari appetizer and the house salad. Unfortunately, the lunch is cut short, as Angie has other meetings to attend.

Back at the office, my assistant Ingrid is presenting me with her ideas for the cover of the magazine. So far, we know that the emphasis is on colour blocking. Now it's just deciding what model, what venue, and what garments all shout VOGUE.

The day seems longer than most, as there are still many decisions to be made. Nonetheless, I feel a significant amount of progress is being made today with the upcoming September Vogue issue; I know that the utopian venue chosen for the PRADA photo-shoot will truly capture the "romantic" feel for this fall season. Thank God for my assistant Ingrid; I couldn't have booked the venue without her!

It is now 5:30PM and my husband picks me up as he promises to accompany me to watch my friend's class put their work on the catwalk. I leave my car at work thinking I'll pick it up the next day. However, I first feel a dire need for my daily Starbucks. As usual, there is a mile-long line just to enter the doors of my favorite café, but it only takes us a minute to pick up my Grande, light-iced, Tazo Chi; the barista has it ready for me!

From Starbucks, we go to the Parsons School of Design, where I am continually excited to spot new graduates with fresh ideas and a creative spirit.  As we park, a swarm of Parson students rush up and greet me. I sign an autograph here and an autograph there -- not too many of course. Watching from the front row, I didn't take off my trademark sunglasses that fit smugly on my face. As each girl passes, the collection reminds me more and more of the Oscar de la Renta Fall collection I recently cut from the magazine. There were brilliant pieces, but they were all in the shade of black -- not the colour for this fall season!

Unfortunately, the music by Meg and Dia, and the event design by­­ Colin Cowie are not very impressive. The theme seems similar to the Mercedes-Benz fashion week I watched two weeks ago, and I can't tolerate unoriginality!

Excusing myself politely, I say good-bye to my friend when the event's nearly over. As I give her a kiss on the each check (she's from Italia), I tell her my recommendations for the next event. I jokingly think that I'll send her the bill for my tips. Just then, my iPhone Galaxy6 vibrates; it's my parents inviting us to come over to their house.

My old home is warm, comforting and a place that is more than pleasant shelter, it is a sanctuary. When we arrive it is already 8:00PM and I can see my sister approaching us under the bright, illuminating house lights. I see a great deal of myself in her -- especially since we share an abundant passion for the same sport, golf! She is wearing my grandma's heavy knit sweater, a wool mini skirt, and socks. I see this as a good opportunity to tease her about her weird clothing selection and style. We share a good laugh as she teases me back about how old I am. Next, we tell each other all about our day. My mom and dad greet us with hugs and kisses, and the ever-so-welcoming smell of my mom's special caldo, a Spanish soup.

Once dinner is inhaled, we play an everlasting game of Jenga, making it to 35 stories high, until my husband's clumsy hands makes it crumble right down. An exciting movie and non-buttered popcorn follows. However, to my dismay, my sister's closed eyes and the sound of her snoring tells me it is time to head back.

Going home at 12:30AM is not ideal. However, I am thankful I'm not needed at work tomorrow. A five-hour sleep just doesn't cut it for me! The journey home is relaxing as my husband's driving. Arriving, he makes me a hot cup of Chamomile tea that he brings to our bedroom. There, I take out my journal and start writing out this -- my ideal day. 

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.

Carlos Alvarado

Mr. Newman

ENG2D - 10a

Wed Sept 21

The Chronicles Of Carlos In The Mountains

I wake up just before dawn, abruptly, after having a nightmare. I find it nice to wake up from nightmares because it makes me more grateful for real life. I stand up to see my two bloodhounds, Jupiter and Mars, calmly staring at me. I can tell exactly what they want by their longing gaze. I fill up their bowls with steaming chicken rice and they eagerly pounce on the meal. I put on my new sweater that my wife hand made yesterday on the loom. The organic hide and llama wool keep me warm during the chilly Peruvian months. I stroll out back and open the corral to let our eleven llamas out.

After filling their mangers with fresh chow, I climb on the roof of our hut, without waking my wife or any of the villagers up. I meditate on the frosty straw roof and watch the warm sun rise from behind the mountainous horizon until I achieve peace within. The rays of sun seem to give me energy, which will help for my six-hour hike down the mountain to the airport in the city.

It'll be a pretty tiring journey but it'll pay off once I get to see my two sons returning from university. Although I would've wanted to see them more often, I'm happy letting them decide to reintegrate with modern society. Hopefully when they're old they'll decide to live amongst cultures untouched by modern societies, like here in the mountains of Peru with peaceful Inca tribes.

When the rest of the village starts to wake up I realize it's about time to start packing for my trip to the airport. I walk in my hut after about two hours of meditation. I find that my wife has prepared a delicious breakfast consisting of fire-roasted sausage, homemade waffles with Canadian syrup, and fresh hash browns made from the village grown potatoes. I devour the feast and finish it off with hot cocoa out of a stone mug.

I finish packing quickly and we start our mountain descent by llama. My dogs try to follow but I sadly tell them to go back, knowing I won't have a place to keep them in the city. I know they'll be fine without me, as everybody in the village here loves them just as much as I do. On the way down the steep shrub covered highlands I enjoy the fresh air and play melodies on my Tarka (Peruvian flute), along with my wife on the fiddle. Following on a third llama behind us is my close Inca friend, Tapac-Upanqui, who wants to see "the great glass cities". I wasn't planning on bringing anyone but he practically begged me to come. It's understandable why he longs to see the cities because for simple mountain people like Tupac, the thought of towering metal structures is as absurd as wizards and dragons are to you and me. It's extremely rare for the natives in these mountains to come across modern buildings.

Once we got to the bottom of the mountain, we set our llamas free. As we approach the dirt road at the bottom of the mountain, we stick our thumbs in the air, hoping one of the many passing truck drivers would take us to the nearest town where we can call a taxi to take us to the airport. Luckily a trucker recognizes me because I founded many schools in his area a few years ago. He generously offers to take us all the way to the airport. During the four-hour ride there we snack on chocolate hand made from fresh cocoa beans, then we nap.

Around 3:00pm my sons are delighted to see us when we arrive at the airport, and they run toward us waving their graduation certificates. As we are deciding what to do I suddenly remember that we skipped lunch. We walk to a traditional Peruvian restaurant. The fresh steak is especially delicious due to the fact that I am extremely hungry. We sit after eating for about 20 minutes and talk. After our food is settled, my sons propose a trip to Siula Grande, a snowcapped mountain, in light of the fact that they just got their helicopter licenses. We get a taxi to my private hangar 10 minutes down the road.

There waits my private Red Bull helicopter with three snowboards in the back. We all hop in and my eldest son starts it up. We've been flying for about one hour and the peaks of the mountain emerge from the clouds. At that moment I get a chilling shot of adrenaline running from head to toe. I recognize this exhilarating feeling from when I used to snowboard daily, back when I was professional so many years ago. We seem to be at a crawling pace approaching the peak, but it's actually just my excitement making time feel slow. Every second that passes I get more eager to soar through the soft deep snow. My wife, who also has a flying license, offers to take Tupac on a tour of the city and they'll meet us at the bottom.

We arrive at the highest peak then my two sons and I jump out already strapped in our boards. That's the start of our hectic five-hour shred down the mountain. We search for gnarly powder lines and we hike the good ones for hours. My sons are looking for a sponsorship so they're filming all of our tricks with the intention of eventually sending the footage to a major company. I teach them all the tricks I know even though I'm still a little rusty. They're surprised to see how much skill I have.

After a long hard evening of shredding, falling, stomping tricks, and digging each other out of mini avalanches, we're all happy to see flat vegetated ground at the bottom of the mountain. It is now well after dark and my legs feel completely numb from lactic acid. I've never been so antsy to just get to bed. My son calls my wife on his cell phone and tells her our coordinates. 10 minutes later they arrive in the helicopter. After landing it I'm delighted to hear that they bought a massive tent and other essentials so we can camp out here for the night.

Andie Hunt           
Newman
English ENG2D-10A
September 21, 2011

Cinnamon Buns

            It's seven thirty on a Sunday morning. The sunlight gleams through the windows on the French doors leading to the balcony. Hans' face is buried in his memory foam pillow beside me, so that only his thick, blonde curls are exposed.  I stretch my leg over the side of the bed and reach out until my foot touches the cool hardwood floor. I walk, on tiptoe, to the bathroom. After brushing my teeth, I head out of the bedroom and down the stairs to the kitchen.

            Once there, I make myself a tea--one milk, two sugar cubes. Sitting at the breakfast bar, I empty my mug and leave the kettle out on the counter. Then, I slip through the door to the mudroom, slide my sandals on, and continue on to the garage.

            My classic, powder blue Schwinn is leaned up against the wall. The paint is chipping off of the frame; after all, I have been riding it since I was just 15. But the vintage look of it makes me feel hipster, so I will never replace it.

            After opening the garage door, I sit on my bicycle seat and push myself forward, to the top of the driveway, and abruptly take my feet off of the pedals. The wheels spin quickly as my weight pushes the bike down the asphalt. Ours is the only driveway in the area that isn't cobblestone. It's much more difficult to do chalk drawings on cobblestone.

My feet quickly find the pedals again once the bike hits the road, and I bike all through the neighbourhood. I'm not particularly worried that I'll be seen in my pajamas, because no one else in Granite Bay wakes up before at least nine o'clock on a weekend, unless it's Christmas. It's a beautiful neighbourhood, occupied with medium to large homes that all have nice gardens and pools and big backyards -- one of the typical suburban areas showcased in television shows depicting California. Because it's the oldest, our house is one of the smaller ones, but it backs onto a forest and a little river that provides a great exploration destination for my son, Clarke. He is an inquisitive seven year old with most of my facial features, but he inherited his adorable golden locks from his father Hans. After reaching the front gates of the community, I turn around and head back the way I came.

Upon arriving back at home, I gently rest my bicycle against the garage wall. As I open the door to the mudroom, the smell of cinnamon buns rushes in and hits my nose like a dump truck filled with good dreams. My stomach rumbles. When it's Over by Sugar Ray is blaring at top volume over the television speakers, which is Clarke's latest favourite song.

I take off my sandals and enter the kitchen, where my two favourite boys are holding their breakfast plates in their hands whilst dancing around the bar in their boxers. Hans dances over to me and kisses my forehead, then grabs my hand and proceeds to loudly sing, "All the things that she used to bring, all the songs she used to sing! All her favorite TV shows have gone out the window!" Then he stuffs the rest of his warm cinnamon bun in my face as Clarke watches us, giggling.

After breakfast, Hans suggests to Clarke that we all get dressed for the day. He speaks impeccable English, having lived in California for eight years now, but his beautiful Swiss accent can still be heard unquestionably in his words.  

Once dressed, we all play catch in the backyard with a football. I teach Clarke how to throw a spiral with the ball, and although he's only a mature seven, he can already toss it better than Hans, who is very clumsy and uncoordinated (in a cute way). The boys continue to play for a while as I sit in a lawn chair and read the e-newspaper on my iPad 8. Hans throws the football a little too far, and as Clarke goes to retrieve it by the river, he discovers a pile of tall logs that had been cut down earlier for our summer campfires. He calls us over to explain his new idea, in which we all build a raft and use it to float on the water.

We spend about an hour constructing a perfect little barge, using spare rope found in the garage to tie the logs together. We put an extra layer on top of the first logs, running in the opposite direction, so that we sit too high to get wet. As the boys take care of the finishing touches, I quickly make some roast beef sandwiches and place them in the picnic basket along with a blanket and orange creamsicles. Finally, we cast off and spend much of the afternoon having our picnic, drifting slowly down the river.

When we get home, Clarke goes up to his room to do homework, and Hans and I spend our opportunity for alone time by playing with our new virtual experience console in the basement. We stand inside the giant orb and are given a multitude of adventures to choose from. I suggest that we go to a beach in Fiji, and Hans selects it on the screen. In seconds, the air around us turns hot, our ears fill with the sounds of waves gently brushing the shore, and sand is blown onto the floor. The whole spherical screen is transformed into a sunny paradise. Hans and I spend an hour in Virtual Fiji; being fanned and fawned upon by drink waiters and making intricate sandcastles.

Later, Hans calls my parents to invite them for dinner. Then, he goes to the butcher to pick up some steaks. Clarke is thrilled to learn that Grandma and Grandpa will be coming over, and helps me make my legendary chocolate chip banana bread for dessert.

            At dinner, we hear stories from Grandpa about when he was a kid, while listening to 90's music and eating our perfectly tender steaks by candlelight. My dad had three siblings and lived on a farm, which made for some captivating adventure stories. After supper, we play Crazy Eights.

            Around 10 o'clock, Grandma and Grandpa leave. Hans carries a very sleepy Clarke up the stairs and into his bedroom. After he gets his Scooby Doo jammies on and brushes his teeth, we tuck him in to bed and kiss him goodnight.

            Then we get ready for bed, and as Hans lies down beside me to cuddle, he kisses me goodnight too. "I love you," he says, "Sweet dreams."

I wake up while the sky is still dark.  It has been a tradition of mine for the last couple of years to wake up before the sun rises. Getting out of bed, I try not to wake my wife, snatch some clothes out of my tiny closet and head to the bathroom. The clothes I put on are casual, but nice enough to work in. In the bathroom I have a short, mildly warm shower to wake myself up before heading down the hallway to my kitchen. I grab a frying pan out of a cupboard, put it on the stove and turn the stove on. I then make fried eggs. While the eggs are cooking I cook some toast, get a glass of orange juice and read the day's paper via an electronic tablet. The headlines for today include, "Moon habitable" and "GEEC creates another miracle". Once the eggs are done, I put them and the toast on a plate, take my orange juice and go and sit on the patio outside. The patio overlooks the ocean and faces east, so I watch the sunrise while I eat my breakfast, as I have done for many a day now. Our house is located just north of Dublin, Ireland and is on the coast. It is a rustic, one story house, older and smaller than most houses, but nice and comfortable. All of the rooms in our house are on a small hallway that goes through the middle of the house, separating the bedroom and bathroom from the kitchen and living room. The main door of the house is at one end of the hallway, while another door opens from the kitchen to the patio. A short stone path leads from the patio to the seashore. Sitting on the patio, it looks like it will by a fairly decent day because I can actually see the sun rising today, unlike some other days when the clouds completely cover the sun. My wife is still sleeping, and probably will still be by the time I leave for work.

     I drive to work in Dublin via the side roads because I enjoy the scenery of the landscape much more than the sight of many cars, even if it takes me longer to get to work. Before I go to my workplace, I stop by a second hand bookshop in the older part of town to look for a sequel to an out of print book I had just finished a day or two earlier. Arriving at the bookshop, I find the owner just turning the "Closed" to "Open" on the sign in the window. It is lightly drizzling out now, so much for the "fairly good day", and I walk into the store through the rain. I find the book I am looking for among the musty smelling shelves, pay for it, toss the book on the passenger seat in my car, and depart for work in the car. My workplace is on the edge of Dublin, where all of the new buildings have sprung up. The workplace is a complex of at least eight buildings, one or two larger than the others. This complex is the Irish branch for GEEC, which I work at. GEEC (which stands for Global Engineering Enterprises Corporate), is an international group of engineers worldwide who focus on improving all aspects of life for society. I walk into the lobby of the main building, one of the larger ones, and take the stairs up to my office, which is on the 5^th floor.  My office is a small, nicely furnished room with a desk topped with one of those fairly expensive newer computers with the hologram option. I work as an engineer, designing or reformatting other designs and occasionally working on the hardware side of things. I sit down and work on a design sent from Germany that will be used to create a better sealing for the outside of underground structures. I work on this for a few hours, tweaking the thickness and the outer layer's composition.

    Before I know it, it is time for lunch already and I head down to the lobby to meet with some friends who also work at GEEC. There are five of them waiting in the leather chairs in the lobby when I come down, and we only have to wait briefly for the last two before we head out for lunch. My friends are a diverse mix of nationalities, Because GEEC believes in having every country's skills in technology at each branch. Most of my friends are European, due to the fact Ireland is in Europe, but there is a Japanese one, an Egyptian and me, a Canadian. We carpool down to an older pub in the middle of town and eat lunch there. I eat a sandwich for lunch,  and have a beer, which all of my friends are also having. We laugh, drink and chat about the ongoing projects at GEEC. Once the hour lunch break is close to ending, we head back and begin work once more. After lunch I attend a massive meeting in one of the board rooms with some of the other higher position personnel at GEEC, some tuning in via hologram from other branches. In this meeting we decide which companies we should sell the latest blueprints to and where they would be most effective and why. I then return to my office and work on the current design for an hour or two before sending it off to the Russian branch to be used in the latest design for underground housing.

       My work ends at around 4:30 and I head home via the side roads, this time to avoid traffic more than to enjoy the scenery. Tonight my wife and I are going to a formal restaurant in downtown Dublin to have dinner with some friends. At the house, I change into some formal clothes, and then my wife and I head to the restaurant. The restaurant is a fancy French place that moved in a couple of years ago and serves the finest French cuisine. We check in via our reservation and find that two of the three pairs we are dining with are already seated at the eight person table reserved for us. The friends we are dining with are composed of two guys I know from GEEC and their wives and a couple my wife knows. The last couple arrives shortly after we do. The food and the conversation are excellent and soon we are enjoying ourselves immensely. We then head home, once again taking the side roads, again to enjoy the scenery. As we arrive home, I notice the bees are still buzzing around the flowers that are on either side of the driveway, going from flower to flower. I also notice the sun is still above the horizon and decide to go for a swim in the ocean, and change into my bathing suit in the bathroom. Heading down the path that leads to the rocky beach, I glance at the sun sinking in the horizon, painting the sky brilliant shades of red. I throw down my towel on some rocks and splash in to the water. It is very cold. I get out soon, feeling refreshed but greatly chilled, wrap myself in my towel and sit on one of the rocks as I watch the sun set behind our house. I stay there until it starts to get dark. Worrying about tripping over rocks and my wife's anxiety at my being still outside,  I return to our house. I get into some warm clothes and crawl into bed, enjoying the chill seeping from my body as I get warm. I soon fall asleep next to my wife, ready to wake up early in the morning to watch another sunrise.