FINAL REFLECTION!

The classes I had to take in my freshman through sophomore year prepared me for college because I realized the amount of bullshit needs to be done in life in order to get somewhere. I felt that I was actually doing something useful in junior and senior year when I had to learn time management and the importance of studying. In my junior year I took BIO125 and BIO150. Since Bio wasn't my strongest subject I really had to work har in order to receive A's in the classes. I also had Ms. Moore who gave a demanding amount of coursework at a college level. She was a teacher who believed that we shouldn't be babied and taught me how to write research papers and ow to analyze better than any English teacher I have had since then. By the end of this year I will also not need a math class, which is one less thing to worry about as I move on to university. 

Some of the obstacles I am facing, and still facing (since finals aren't over) is math. It's difficult to be the only person in my Calc 2 class because I feel like there isn't anyone I can look to for help. I wish I had a familiar face to study together with because teaching myself is a pretty big challenge. Another thing that is hard is trying to overcome "senioritis". Because of that I haven't been getting in the 90s range in my high school classes this marking period. Some moments of great success for me is getting into Calc 2. Another thing is that I gained the ability to manage my time better. Instead of going home and going on the internet I have been able to prevent that by making others change my password and blocking it on my laptop until finals week. I also feel that from freshman through junior I felt more suppressed. I felt that my voice didn't matter unless it was for presenting in front of a class but rather this year I find the importance in vocation.

Techniques such as showing and not telling was one of the main things I brought with me when writing. I feel that I could incorporate that in nor only my fiction writing but in my research papers as well. It has also given me the ability to show my creativity more which be helpful in my future design projects. This year I learned that there was no need to be shy about my work or exhibiting feelings in my writing. I also learned that there was nothing to be afraid of when putting myself into the work because nobody knows the connection I have to a character other than myself.

The first semester I took ASTRO101 and MATH150 and now I am taking CHEM100 and MATH155. I honestly haven't liked any of classes. I equally hate them all, but I need to get these prerequisites over with to start doing things that I love so I'll just suck it up, study, and pass. I didn't enjoy them because I dislike science with a passion. I only take it because I need to and math is boring and I always end up falling asleep in classes. I do not care about the volumes of irregular shapes and integrals of numbers and letters.

I feel that I need to stop taking sleep for granted. When I finish work early I should take it as a sign to sleep early as well. But sometimes I end up sleeping and hour because I'm watching various animes, or catching up. Maybe I could quit these shows but or just postpone these anime shows to vacation so that I won't lose much sleep.

I mainly studied in the Hunter Library on the 4th floor. If I study in quiet places I usually fall asleep so I need people laughing and conversing or "studying" loudly in order to keep my awake from my boring subjects.I used the Thomas Hunter free printing service as a recourse as well as the Dolciani/ Math center. Whenever I have trouble with a topic I would go bring my WebAssigns (online math coursework) and make the tutors walk me through the problems.

Being part of this early college program is self advocacy. I have also learned that I have a lot coming in these next 5 years and I need to stick my life in the library in order to succeed. I need to surround myself with positive and successful people as well so that I can feel more motivated to do work.

I will be going to University of South Florida this fall and my personal goals are to become and architect. In 5 years I see myself with a master degree in Architecture. In 10 years I see myself with a PHD possibly married. In 20 years I see myself out of the country married, and with kids.

Some advice I have for future MHSHS students I advise that they stay away from the "hot spots" such as the purple couches and terrace. It's good to unwind once in a while but they should know that once somebody is sitting there they don't want to get up.

Reflection 3

I don't feel that at this point I have anything more to work on. Maybe I could have included the music more in my story but seeing that it was short story it was hard for me to find any parts that I could mention it without breaking the rhythm of my story. As a writer I learned that peer editing is very important. It's important to have many people read your work because everyone can always find a piece missing that could make your writing better. I also learned that a lot goes behind writing a story and one draft is never sufficient.

The theme of my story is delusion. The protagonist feels like a single woman is sufficient to fill the void of all the things he gave up. He also thinks that not bettering himself is the best way to go, and he starts to beat himself up  while Penny is moving on. A technique I used to show this is internal conflict. Because at the end he refuses to move on and wallows in self pity as he reads the newspaper article.

Final Draft - Guitar Strings

Aiden wakes up slowly, the fog in his brain inhibiting him from opening his eyes completely. There’s sun shining in through his window, forcing him to blink multiple times before keeping his eyes open. His mouth is acrid, dry, and stale. He can smell cigarettes from last night lingering on his breath. He smells of scotch and loneliness. He wonders if anyone else can smell the repugnant aroma of selfishness and early mornings spent alone with empty bottles, wafting from him.

Rising from his soiled sheets, he decides not to change his dingy, once white underwear, and throws on a pair of jeans that have been his only source of pants for quite some time now. He searches for a shirt, but it takes too much concentration, and decides against it. He looks down at his sunken, yet protruding belly riding atop his pants. His skinny, lanky frame has been awarded the difficult task of carrying his ever growing beer gut. If his frame could talk to him, he’s sure it would say fuck you. He is in his mid-30s and instead of being at the peak of success like he planned he is wallowing around in his self-pity.

He goes to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator to find nothing besides beer and moldy bread. He opens a can. The refreshing pop that follows from the opening of the tab constitutes as his shower for the day. He wonders what demons he’ll have to face today, and quickly downs his beer in hopes of drowning them before they can set in. He grabs a second beer from the foul fridge and steps outside of his suburban home.

There are kids across the street playing with a decrepit can. It rattles along the ground as their tiny feet find contact with it. Down the street is an elderly lady pinning out sheets on her clothesline. It sags as she weighs it down with drenched bed linens. He remembers how when he was younger there was an man around his age that always smelled of cheap liquor and walked around with mean veneer, and then he pondered on whether he turned into that bitter old man that no one ever wanted to approach. He decided against it.

He picks of the newspaper and suddenly Penny Brooke’s voice flows through the air of his house. He turns the radio off and sits on his couch, where he has spent every day for the past three weeks. He knows there’s nothing here for him, yet he cannot bring himself to leave. He imagines her walking up to their door step, and laying her bags down on the stoop before she gently knocks on their door. He imagines her returning, realizing her mistake in leaving him, realizing that he is worth loving after all.

Her words coursed through Aidan’s mind like a film loop. “I am the best thing that’s ever happened to you!” His memory immediately sought out the records of events from 16 years ago. Aidan only had eyes for her. They were both only seventeen at the time but Aidan felt as though she meant the whole world to him in that moment.

Fast forward to three months later and Aidan had gone from ripped jeans to polished pant suits. His hair was no longer spikey and even his face to some extent changed just to appease her. Meanwhile through all his effort she was telling him that she had found somebody knew. She fed him the usually drivel about how she never meant to hurt him, how she wishes things could be different but ultimately, how she’d found somebody new. Aidan still felt it twinge in his ribcage.

But after a bout with her partner she began to call him more often, and invite him to events. Once he attended an art gallery and he stared deep into her light golden eyes, trying to read her, as if he knew she had some hidden agenda. He couldn’t find anything; she was too difficult to read. He’d have to get her to talk.

“Why now?”
“What do you mean?” she asked back, acting all innocent. Aidan knew better than to fall for that again.
“After all this time, why choose now to get back together?”
“I’m done fooling around. I had something good with you and I threw it away for something that wasn’t any good. I just want to be with you again.”

Aidan’s eyes narrowed when she finished. He still knew there was more to this than she was letting on.

“What do you want from me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Come on Penny, I changed completely for you last time. What do you want this time?” Aidan responded as expressionless as he could. He wasn’t a serious man by nature and he couldn’t exactly act it well either, but he did his best.
“Well… I know it’s a big thing to ask but… would you quit the band? Just for me.” She gave it her best pout and puppy-dog eyes, both framed by her chestnut hair. Aidan glared back. This was unbelievable. Music was all he knew. The band was just starting to get recognized and now she was asking him to quit. There was nothing more important to Aidan than his family and the band but then he thought back to all their moments and felt that she towered over all of the things he loved.
“Allright, but at least let me play this one song for the event.” She shook her head angrily and refused to let him. But he convinced her that after tonight all of it was going to be over. He continued to sing and strum his guitar as he spoke the lyrics that were dedicated to her. Her solemn features soon brightened up. After that night he knew just her existence made me feel whole.

Many late nights cuddling, and watching her try on clothes were ways to make him feel unregretful of leaving it all behind. Even the smallest things like the way she would tippy toe to reach things at high lengths made him feels lucky to be alive. But gradually things he found cute like the rolling of her eyes, or cute whining voice and her smack in the backs made him want to escape. One day she cornered him in their bedroom as he tried to secretly make a song. She was furious of his negligence to quit music that she started to question him.

“When do you plan on graduating? Wasn’t last year your last year?”
“Just give me some time,” and he walked passed her into the hallway.
“Don’t ignore me. I didn’t commit myself to a failure.”
“Maybe if I didn’t quit the band I wouldn’t even have to be in school.”

“No. You were going to be playing in the streets. Because of me, you are on your last year of medical school. I am the best thing that’s ever happened to you!” He tried to calm myself by sitting back down. What was the point of having a guitar if one isn’t even going to play it? If one refuses to strum it, and get to know it well then how can one call themselves a musician; a rock star. How could you one consider this a relationship? He was the guitar and she played him whenever she needed him most. He built up some courage through the adrenaline she shot into him and came to the conclusion that she was neglecting his potential.

“Fuck off, bitch!” he yelled.

Penny proceeds to the door and slammed it on her way outside and took her months to come back. “Why are you here?” Aiden asked. A man wearing a black Armani suit, contrasted nicely with a white shirt and a light blue tie, neatly parted hair. A glitzy Rolex on the wrist, shoes so neatly polished that one could almost see their reflection in them. The elegant yet bold sunglasses almost manage to hide the blue eyes that have so many stories buried deep in them, walks in to his living room.

“I wanted you to meet someone. He is a part of a multibillion dollar company headquarters in New York City.” Outside his window he spotted his luxurious yet fast black Maserati GT and his heart sunk because of his anxiety for answers. The man began to talk and money, the power, most of all that intellect really shone through his words.

“Are you here to get back with me? I promise I’ll change.”
“I knew we shouldn’t have come” said the stranger.
“I know things ended badly but…” she handed him a letter and walked out of the house.

In truth, he knows he’s a broken old man. He left his dreams behind, left himself behind, and in turn, left her behind. He deserves nothing besides the loneliness that comes from six packs and cheap bottles of scotch. But he can’t stop himself from seeing her pink dress getting caught on the tree in their driveway, as she walked out of his life and into a strange car with a strange man. He starts to read the newspaper article and sees her with the strange man and a smile that he thought only he had ever given to her. He knows there’s nothing here for him, but he cannot bring himself to leave the house which houses all their memories. Its walls know all the love he’s ever known, and he will stay until they give it back.