Post 11

Last night after coming home from walking my roommate to her place of employment, my other roommate and I came into our room to find the largest cockroach in existence on our floor. After fully staring at it for a good two minutes, we both screamed very loudly. The monstrosity began to crawl its ugly little legs towards us. We jumped backwards onto the desk and sink, trying to keep away from it. If things weren't bad enough, the little effer could fly too! He took off and flew right into my roommates face. She swatted it away with a firm slap and it fell to the floor. At this point we're both in hysterics. Not a moment later, our incredibly hot resident assistant, Dan, came into the room; causing us to scream louder since he more or less barged into our room. After assessing the situation, he grabbed the broomstick and started to chase the little bugger.

* * * * * *

All I was doing was looking for some food to feed my family with. I have over 200 children and a wife too feed. I was minding my own business, wandering the trash cans on the street when I saw the lights go off in some window. The window itself was slightly open, and I could smell different aromas coming from it. Instinct took over and I flew in through it. While my eyes adjusted, I quickly assessed that the room was free of predators. I quietly snuck around the shadows looking for the food source; I couldn't find anything. I don't know how long I was looking for, but I guess it was long enough because the lights came on, and two huge monsters came in and started to roar! I tried to escape but the window had somehow shut itself. In my defense I tried to scare one monster, but it deflected me. Then another monster, even bigger than before came into the scene. The first two must have been calling for help. He started to chase me with a stick!

Post 10

One day whilst walking to class, Harley ran into an average. He was about four inches taller than her, with the same tanned skin, black hair and brown eyes as her. When he spoke, he had a spanish accent.

"I'm so sorry," he said quickly, glancing around nervously. Harley found herself unable to speak. She couldn't stop staring at his eyes. "Ummm, are you ok?" he asked. Harley shook her head and she came out of her comatose state.
"Sorry, umm yes, I'm fine. Sorry about that. I spaced out," she said hastily. The young male stared at her with wonderment, confusion, and what seemed like entertainment.
"Yeah, I space out a lot too. Hi, my name is Juan. Juan Diego," he said, as he extended his hand towards Harley. She grasped his hand firmly and shook it.

"Well, I gotta get to class now," she said, looking up at the darkening sky. Juan looked up with her and said:
"It's getting dark out. And it's not safe for beautiful young girls to walk around by themselves at night." Harley looked at him in shock. No one had ever called her pretty, let alone beautiful before.

"I'm not beautiful, I'm average," she laughed shakily.
"Come," Juan said as he grabbed Harley's hand, intertwining her fingers with his own. They walked down four blocks until they reached her class building. "Well, I guess this is it than," he said.
"Yeah, I guess," replied Harley, with a hint of disappointment. During their walk, they had learned a great deal about each other, and in that short amount of time, she had realized she had a strange feeling for this Ecuadorian male.

"Yeah. But hey, let me have your number, so we can play tennis some time," Juan said eagerly. Harley complied with his request and they exchanged numbers, but on her phone, he saved his name as Diego. "I don't like Juan. Just Diego," he said with a smile.
"Ok. See you later then, Diego," Harley said with a small smile. Diego smiled back at her, and to her complete and utter surprise, he leaned in and kissed her on the lips.

Post 9

"Reverence For Animals"

The essay was incredibly well written. It gave the reader insight on all of the authors thoughts, emotions, and sense of reality. The author gave a lot of background information that made it evident that he is an adventurer and that he has a lot of personal knowledge by experience. He wrote the essay in past tense but it really can make the reader stick to it til the very end. The piece grabs the reader's attention.

Post 8

Harley was just an average girl living in a cruel world. There was nothing special about her as far as society was concerned. She had plain black wavy hair that really needed to be trimmed, decently tanned skin, boring brown eyes, was of average height, was slim but could also use some weight loss, and she wore plain clothes. She was a nobody in a city filled with pretty people. She lived in the city near her University. A plain three bedroom apartment with her two average roommates. They had two dogs, one cat, and a small hedgehog living with them as well. Everyday she walked to campus by herself, trying to be as invisible as possible. She passed by all the "pretty people." Young men and women who were as perfect as society defined them. They all were in style with the latest trend, they all looked exceptionally clean, they all tall and beautiful. They ignored Harley, and kept to their own brood of pretty people. Harley wasn't the only "average" person on campus. The place was crawling with them, you just couldn't seem them. How could you when there were so many beautiful people to look by. Who would ever want to stand by one of them and be compared?

Post 7

Working on this mini memoir has been incredibly time consuming. For the past week, I've been up til at least four in the morning writing. It's not all because of the paper though; during my day, I like to enjoy things that aren't class related. Doing things like going to lunch with friends, chatting up people on Facebook, going to a late night movie, and maybe going on a study date. So yes, I suppose I could be writing the paper in between those periods of time when I'm not really doing anything; but to be quite honest, I'd rather do nothing at all than do homework. It sounds pretty lazy and bad, but in my defense, if I'm not in a writing kind of mood, I won't be able to write at all. It's like my own retarded version of writer's block. In addition, in most situations, I write faster and better under pressure. I don't mean to honk my own horn, but I'm not a bad writer. Everything I write, whether it be essays, short stories, blogs like this one and Tumblr, journalism, and writing just for fun, I always write good stuff. It might just be a gift from God or luck, but I'm pretty good. On the bright side, I actually did write my paper during my study date yesterday, and I finally finished my paper. I just need to fix any and all grammatical errors and it's ready to turn in.