Most recent edit on 2005-09-18 18:32:08 by EschaTon
Additions:
I arrived almost two weeks later than was predicted. But [O]n January 31, 1987 I was born to John and Maureen Marcinko. I was their first child, making me a bit of an experiment. But I guess it wasn’t too bad of an experiment[,] for them because less than three years later, my sister Abby (who I named, if that is of any importance to any one) was born. Then less than two years later[,] my other sister Annie was born. Apparently my parents had a good time raising us three because ten years after Annie, my baby brother Aidan [was] born. My siblings are all great. Sure they get on my nerves every now and then but they’re great they really are, especially the little one [you're being repititious here].
Aidan looks up to me so much[,] it’s really quite funny and[,] to be honest quite flattering[,] as well. Whatever I do he does, which keeps me on my toes because his ears pick up any and all curses that I say and his mouth will repeat them about fifty times, but that’s what small children do. He’s also getting so big[,] it’s quite funny. But [T]he best thing about Aidan is ho[w] he likes to tell stories about things that he has done. Which is fine, except the stories are usually made up and somehow, they take place several years into the future. Let [me] give you an example of one: “One time when I was big, I played football for the Trojans (that’s the team I played for in high school). And I scored three touchdowns (as he holds up two fingers).” He’s hilarious.
As for my other siblings, Abby is a sophomore in high school. She goes to a real[ly] expensive prep school (Scranton Prep is its name, if that means anything to anyone reading this) [watch using parentheticals in your writing. If you want to say something, you should just come right out and say it (that said, I do use a lot of parentheses, but only in my blogging (in "serious" writing, I would use footnotes)). Either way, if you want to include details, like "Scranton Prep," you should include it in the main body of your essay (or use a footnote)] which I don’t like much. First off[,] almost every kid I’ve ever met from this [her] school is a huge snobbish [snobby] rich kid who feels that no matter who you are[,] they’re better than you, and feels that they can do whatever they want because of who their daddy is. Secondly I went to a public school in our area and I got as good of an education (if not a better one) as the one offered at the [my sister's] school my sister goes to. The third reason I don’t like it is probably [don't use words like probably or "seems" or "maybe" in a rhetorical paper. Even if you aren't sure of what you are saying, don't ever let your reader see you blink] because Scranton Prep was one of the rivals of my high school (which is North Pocono High School, by the way),[.] [S]o when it came to high school athletics my sister and didn’t quite see “eye-to-eye”. But [E]ven though I don’t like it, she does enjoy it there and I guess that that is all that matters, right? I guess I just wish she chose to go to North Pocono because I was so happy there. I met so many close friends, accomplished a lot, and made many amazing memories while there.
As for my sister Annie, well, she is in the eighth grade [at] a small Catholic school[,] but she does intends to go to the same high school that I did, so that’s good. But Annie is so funny sometimes it kills me, it really does. We were on vacation in Hawaii a few years ago. While there we went to visit the Pearle Harbor Memorial. If you’ve never been there before, a tour guide shows you a film strip and in it they mentioned that many of the body’s were still trapped in the sunken ships. So we are out at the monument in the middle of the harbor, [and] it’s a very quiet and solemn moment of deep reflection. Then all that we can hear is my sister practically yell, “Mom, where are all the bodies… I can’t see any of the bodies, where are they Mom?” We were all mortified (to say the very least). But she is a real character let me tell you what. [Okay, so if you want to write a narrative about how your family has influenced your life, this may be a good one. This tells a story, instead of being a collection of memories]
Then [S]ince [I] seem to be telling you all about my family, I must tell you about my parents. My Dad is really great, even though sometimes I (like every other teenager) get pretty frustrated with him. He is pretty tough on me with grades and pretty much everything else, but like I said before I’m his first child and he is just trying to do what’s best for me, so I can’t complain too much. He and I though I do occasionally hate to admit are a lot alike[, though I hate to admit it]. We can both be impatient when we are working (I know he is because I’ve done yard work with him before, enough said). We both like sports (him [he] and I were both die hard Notre Dame Fans since as long as either one of us can remember – which makes me being here at PSU even harder to explain). We used to spend every Saturday in the fall watching college football. And we both are huge Bruce Springsteen (and don’t say anything bad about that). I’ve never let him live down the time that we didn’t get to go to a Springsteen Concert in Philadelphia about two years ago because he didn’t order the tickets in time. So he’s is honestly a great father to his children and a great provider for his family.
As for my Mom she is Mom, and great at it [This sent. accomplishes nothing]. Seriously the woman is a saint; I mean she did put up with me for the last eighteen years. She has always been there for me with love and compassion. I like to think she raised me well (at least both she and I hope so). But she always goes out of her way to see that my siblings and I a re always happy and safe, and that does sometimes make her a little overprotective (ok, sometimes very over protective), but I owe a lot. One time when I was about ten years old I thought that it would be great to grab onto the bumper of a car in my neighborhood while I was wearing my rollerblades. It would have worked if my Mom hadn’t seen me doing it when she looked out the window. Man, did I ever drive her crazy when I was younger.
[This paper is:
- Overly conversational (and more than that, the problem is the amount of slang used)
- Clearly not proofread
- Lacking in overall focus
While the assignment may have been to tell a story about yourself, the point of the assignment was to learn how to make choices as a rhetor. Unfortunately, this paper doesn't make any choices. Further, the grammar needs a lot of work. If you would like to walk through this paper, come by my office some time and we can talk about it]
Deletions:
I arrived almost two weeks later than was predicted. But on January 31, 1987 I was born to John and Maureen Marcinko. I was their first child, making me a bit of an experiment. But I guess it wasn’t too bad of an experiment for them because less than three years later, my sister Abby (who I named, if that is of any importance to any one) was born. Then less than two years later my other sister Annie was born. Apparently my parents had a good time raising us three because ten years after Annie, my baby brother Aidan born. My siblings are all great. Sure they get on my nerves every now and then but they’re great they really are, especially the little one.
Aidan looks up to me so much it’s really quite funny and to be honest quite flattering as well. Whatever I do he does, which keeps me on my toes because his ears pick up any and all curses that I say and his mouth will repeat them about fifty times, but that’s what small children do. He’s also getting so big it’s quite funny. But the best thing about Aidan is ho he likes to tell stories about things that he has done. Which is fine, except the stories are usually made up and somehow, they take place several years into the future. Let give you an example of one: “One time when I was big, I played football for the Trojans (that’s the team I played for in high school). And I scored three touchdowns (as he holds up two fingers).” He’s hilarious.
As for my other siblings, Abby is a sophomore in high school. She goes to a real expensive prep school (Scranton Prep is its name, if that means anything to anyone reading this) which I don’t like much. First off almost every kid I’ve ever met from this school is a huge snobbish rich kid who feels that no matter who you are they’re better than you, and feels that they can do whatever they want because of who their daddy is. Secondly I went to a public school in our area and I got as good of an education (if not a better one) as the one offered at the school my sister goes to. The third reason I don’t like it is probably because Scranton Prep was one of the rivals of my high school (which is North Pocono High School, by the way), so when it came to high school athletics my sister and didn’t quite see “eye-to-eye”. But even though I don’t like it, she does enjoy it there and I guess that that is all that matters, right? I guess I just wish she chose to go to North Pocono because I was so happy there. I met so many close friends, accomplished a lot, and made many amazing memories while there.
As for my sister Annie, well, she is in the eighth grade a small Catholic school but she does intends to go to the same high school that I did, so that’s good. But Annie is so funny sometimes it kills me, it really does. We were on vacation in Hawaii a few years ago. While there we went to visit the Pearle Harbor Memorial. If you’ve never been there before, a tour guide shows you a film strip and in it they mentioned that many of the body’s were still trapped in the sunken ships. So we are out at the monument in the middle of the harbor, it’s a very quiet and solemn moment of deep reflection. Then all that we can hear is my sister practically yell, “Mom, where are all the bodies… I can’t see any of the bodies, where are they Mom?” We were all mortified (to say the very least). But she is a real character let me tell you what.
Then since seem to be telling you all about my family, I must tell you about my parents. My Dad is really great, even though sometimes I (like every other teenager) get pretty frustrated with him. He is pretty tough on me with grades and pretty much everything else, but like I said before I’m his first child and he is just trying to do what’s best for me, so I can’t complain too much. He and I though I do occasionally hate to admit are a lot alike. We can both be impatient when we are working (I know he is because I’ve done yard work with him before, enough said). We both like sports (him and I were both die hard Notre Dame Fans since as long as either one of us can remember – which makes me being here at PSU even harder to explain). We used to spend every Saturday in the fall watching college football. And we both are huge Bruce Springsteen (and don’t say anything bad about that). I’ve never let him live down the time that we didn’t get to go to a Springsteen Concert in Philadelphia about two years ago because he didn’t order the tickets in time. So he’s is honestly a great father to his children and a great provider for his family.
As for my Mom she is Mom, and great at it. Seriously the woman is a saint; I mean she did put up with me for the last eighteen years. She has always been there for me with love and compassion. I like to think she raised me well (at least both she and I hope so). But she always goes out of her way to see that my siblings and I a re always happy and safe, and that does sometimes make her a little overprotective (ok, sometimes very over protective), but I owe a lot. One time when I was about ten years old I thought that it would be great to grab onto the bumper of a car in my neighborhood while I was wearing my rollerblades. It would have worked if my Mom hadn’t seen me doing it when she looked out the window. Man, did I ever drive her crazy when I was younger.
Edited on 2005-09-12 01:27:02 by ElwoodBlues
Additions:
Sprint5PSelfNarrative ReMixed
I sat in the locker room, trying to contain my excitement, as I watched the rest of my team get ready to go out onto the field, and mentally prepare for this next journey we were about to embark upon. It was the first game of the season, and for me it was my first varsity football game. It seemed as if all the sweat and blood my teammates and I had shed throughout this long two weeks of two-a-days was about to pay off. We sat and waiting for our coaches to give us that pre game speech. All of our coaches reminded us of how hard we had worked that summer and they kept reminding us that it was our “time to be great”. Man was I pumped!
We began to make our march to the field. It was strange, we had all ready been on this field earlier but, as we were heading out there this time something was different. As I stepped through the gate to the field I could feel my adrenalin levels beginning to rise. Butterflies began to enter my stomach (and I wasn’t even going to play). We huddled together behind the goalpost. While the cheerleaders got the banner ready for us to rip through the banner, our captains fired us up some more (as if I needed to be – I was already going crazy). The butterflies in my stomach had more than doubled.
Then it was time to rip through the paper, so the captains said “Let’s Go!” and we shredded the paper and rushed onto the field like a hundred furious bulls. I was going crazy! Seriously, at the time I was only five foot and six inches tall and I only weighed about 130 pounds (if that much), but I swear, at that moment I could have ripped the head off of any of the players on the other team. I looked around, we weren’t at our home field, and this stadium was smaller than ours with fewer fans, but that didn’t matter, it was time for the kickoff and we wanted nothing else but to destroy the other team.
Now I could go on to tell you how we won the game by 21 twenty-one points, how our tailback rushed for over 200 yards. But, there has never been a greater feeling than the one that I got when I went out onto that field on that Friday night. When I went out onto that field that night I knew that I wanted to spend my Friday nights in high school on a football field.
Oldest known version of this page was edited on 2005-09-08 22:28:53 by ElwoodBlues []
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My Self Narrative
How did I get where I am now? To be quite honest I’m not too sure myself. I know this much, my life was by no means shaped by one single action or event, but by a lot of different people as well. I guess to answer that question my best bet is to start from the beginning.
I arrived almost two weeks later than was predicted. But on January 31, 1987 I was born to John and Maureen Marcinko. I was their first child, making me a bit of an experiment. But I guess it wasn’t too bad of an experiment for them because less than three years later, my sister Abby (who I named, if that is of any importance to any one) was born. Then less than two years later my other sister Annie was born. Apparently my parents had a good time raising us three because ten years after Annie, my baby brother Aidan born. My siblings are all great. Sure they get on my nerves every now and then but they’re great they really are, especially the little one.
Aidan looks up to me so much it’s really quite funny and to be honest quite flattering as well. Whatever I do he does, which keeps me on my toes because his ears pick up any and all curses that I say and his mouth will repeat them about fifty times, but that’s what small children do. He’s also getting so big it’s quite funny. But the best thing about Aidan is ho he likes to tell stories about things that he has done. Which is fine, except the stories are usually made up and somehow, they take place several years into the future. Let give you an example of one: “One time when I was big, I played football for the Trojans (that’s the team I played for in high school). And I scored three touchdowns (as he holds up two fingers).” He’s hilarious.
As for my other siblings, Abby is a sophomore in high school. She goes to a real expensive prep school (Scranton Prep is its name, if that means anything to anyone reading this) which I don’t like much. First off almost every kid I’ve ever met from this school is a huge snobbish rich kid who feels that no matter who you are they’re better than you, and feels that they can do whatever they want because of who their daddy is. Secondly I went to a public school in our area and I got as good of an education (if not a better one) as the one offered at the school my sister goes to. The third reason I don’t like it is probably because Scranton Prep was one of the rivals of my high school (which is North Pocono High School, by the way), so when it came to high school athletics my sister and didn’t quite see “eye-to-eye”. But even though I don’t like it, she does enjoy it there and I guess that that is all that matters, right? I guess I just wish she chose to go to North Pocono because I was so happy there. I met so many close friends, accomplished a lot, and made many amazing memories while there.
As for my sister Annie, well, she is in the eighth grade a small Catholic school but she does intends to go to the same high school that I did, so that’s good. But Annie is so funny sometimes it kills me, it really does. We were on vacation in Hawaii a few years ago. While there we went to visit the Pearle Harbor Memorial. If you’ve never been there before, a tour guide shows you a film strip and in it they mentioned that many of the body’s were still trapped in the sunken ships. So we are out at the monument in the middle of the harbor, it’s a very quiet and solemn moment of deep reflection. Then all that we can hear is my sister practically yell, “Mom, where are all the bodies… I can’t see any of the bodies, where are they Mom?” We were all mortified (to say the very least). But she is a real character let me tell you what.
Then since seem to be telling you all about my family, I must tell you about my parents. My Dad is really great, even though sometimes I (like every other teenager) get pretty frustrated with him. He is pretty tough on me with grades and pretty much everything else, but like I said before I’m his first child and he is just trying to do what’s best for me, so I can’t complain too much. He and I though I do occasionally hate to admit are a lot alike. We can both be impatient when we are working (I know he is because I’ve done yard work with him before, enough said). We both like sports (him and I were both die hard Notre Dame Fans since as long as either one of us can remember – which makes me being here at PSU even harder to explain). We used to spend every Saturday in the fall watching college football. And we both are huge Bruce Springsteen (and don’t say anything bad about that). I’ve never let him live down the time that we didn’t get to go to a Springsteen Concert in Philadelphia about two years ago because he didn’t order the tickets in time. So he’s is honestly a great father to his children and a great provider for his family.
As for my Mom she is Mom, and great at it. Seriously the woman is a saint; I mean she did put up with me for the last eighteen years. She has always been there for me with love and compassion. I like to think she raised me well (at least both she and I hope so). But she always goes out of her way to see that my siblings and I a re always happy and safe, and that does sometimes make her a little overprotective (ok, sometimes very over protective), but I owe a lot. One time when I was about ten years old I thought that it would be great to grab onto the bumper of a car in my neighborhood while I was wearing my rollerblades. It would have worked if my Mom hadn’t seen me doing it when she looked out the window. Man, did I ever drive her crazy when I was younger.
Now I know all of this rambling doesn’t exactly answer my original question of how got were I am now. But that’s not a problem, because what it does tell you is who and where I came from and in the end that tells you more about me than any one story just about me.