Abusive relationship brainstorm

Feelings:

Want to lash out at others for the pain inflicted upon me
become numb to the sensation of physical pain
walking on egg shells
living in constant fear
duplicitous
liar
timid
feel safe and afraid at the same time
constant reminder of bruises and physical pain
become all consuming
slowly distance me from all of my friends (one lie begets another...)
rely more heavily on the abusive person because everyone else is gone
sense of isolation
frail
inability to stand up even with words
combative (verbally)
joyless
lose faith in reason

Journal Entry assignment

Journal Entries, Mandatory:

From the perspective of a homosexual high school student in the closet.
From the perspective of a kid who gets bullied.
From the perspective of a girl with anorexia.
From the perspective of someone with mental retardation.
From the perspective of an obese child.
From a student obsessively infatuated with a teacher.
From the perspective of a student who thinks they might be depressed.
From the perspective of the worst member of a sports team.
From the perspective of someone who is blind.
From the perspective of a pregnant girl.
From the perspective of "the new kid"
From the perspective of a kid whose parents are going through a divorce.
From the perspective of an international student.
From the perspective of someone getting cheated on by a significant other.
From the perspective of someone in an abusive relationship.


One Due each day until Friday (15 points each)

Body part to self

I am Phil's torn groin.

Phil, your right quad and I are pissed! Ever since you took up this stupid football thing all you've done is tear us apart. I've swollen to the size of a stupid tennis ball, and Quad said the whole right side of him is ripping into little pieces. All of this to kick a stupid football? Foot said he doesn't even like the feel of hitting a football. What the hell are you doing to us?

I got an email from Head last week and he said you cut your ear putting on your helmet. Phil, seriously, how much clearer do I need to make this: Stop Playing Football!

A couple of other brief emails, texts, and IMs I've received from the rest of you:

RghtKneekicker to GroinKing23 (AIM): is this guy serious? Does he know all the pain he's causing us! 

LftShldr to GroinKing 23 (AIM): Bullshit! Bullshit! Bullshit! These pads do nothing! 

Phil's Back (text): WTF MATE! This is not fny! 

Phil's Big Toe (text): Broken! Seriously? He's going to sacrifice me like this. Phil's a selfish prick! 

And the worst of all, an Email from LftGroin@gmail.com: 

Right, we need to talk. Does he seriously think this is a good idea. He needs that scholarship and does he really think he's going to get it playing on one leg? Has he ever heard of overuse injuries? Let's schedule a coffee with Brain and Heart immediately and figure this out. 

p.s. you look like you are in rough shape....sorry

p.p.s. you thought you got the sweet end of the deal when he was born huh? Thought he'd use you more, love you more than me? Looks like I win now! 

Phil, this needs to stop. We're all going to work together to make this end. I can't go on like this. Please, if I get another text from the Rest of You, I'm going to smash my phone! 

Figure this out, we need help!

Angrily,

P.R.G. 

If I could write a letter to me...

Ideas for Letters.

1.) As your parent to you either appreciation or disappointment

2.) Teacher/ Coach (thanking them)

3.) A letter to yourself from yourself (ten years ago)

4.) From a body part to yourself. 

5.) From an animal to you

6.) From nature to humanity

7.) From God to you

8.) Entry into a journal

9.) Letter to yourself from yourself (10 years in the future)

10.) Letter to your future husband or wife. 

11.) Letter asking for permission to marry future husband or wife. 

12.) From any concrete (or inanimate) object to yourself

13.) Letter of diary or journal responding back to you

14.) God to Devil or Devil to God

15.) Letter found on the Titanic. 

16.) Letter from mother to unborn baby

17.) From Othello to Desdemona after her death. 

18.) Letter from Tupac to Biggie or vice versa.

19.) Juliette's parents to her (Romeo and Juliet)

20.) Letter from aborted baby to the mother. 

Focusing on shifting perspective, setting a tone and mood of your letter, proper grammar and spelling. Emphasize shift in voice. Make appropriate for the subject.  

HW Due 10/22

You are to write a letter to yourself, at least one page.

The letter is from someone else, someone you have hurt. 

It is to be a forgiveness letter. 

The things I want you to focus on are assuming the other persons tone, and capturing the essence of how they sound. Also, trying to understand their feelings in the situation. 

Good luck. 

email with any concerns/questions

HW Due 10/20

Finish the 5 intros you wrote yourself. 

As long or as short as you'd like. 

Finishing Intros

• Our mouths dropped and a blanket of anxiety wrapped around us. This was it. 

When our lips finally touched it wasn't what I expected; there were all sorts of things to dodge: noses, foreheads, teeth, tongues. After a brief interlude, a minor chuckle, and a deep look into my eyes, he came back for more. In retrospect, the second kiss should have been the first; It was the stuff of my childhood dreams. 

• I could tell it was coming. Anyone could. His cold and hallow glance said it all.

Why, when I was the one cheated on, was I the one dumped? What gave him the right to take my happiness, and my sanity in a few cold and callous words. The real issue with getting cheated on isn't the horror of the image, its what that action does to you. It robs you, innocent little you, of your peace of mind. From that point forward suspicion and doubt replaced tranquility and hope; a bargain I never signed up for. 

• I felt paralyzed. All I could do was stare out of the window for what seemed to be eternity.

 Unanswered prayers plant the seeds of disbelief.  I stared at a tree outside of that window, hoping, praying, for anything to explain itself. All I could think of is, why is God always so far away when I need him near?  

• The six a.m. phone calls stopped. Why was he doing this...

My father always used to wake me up, and now, the bleering ring of an alarm clock. I guess that's part of growing up, but if so, why did it have to leave me with the impression that he just didn't care. Does getting older mean your parents care less? I never wanted to be a Daddy's girl, but that doesn't mean I can't miss it. right? 

• Pieces of ripped up envelope covered the kitchen floor as the house phone rang off the hook.

Four years of work for nothing. No matter how many times my Mom called to console him, he wasn't picking up the damn phone. Four years of, "If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish it" 's down the drain. Watching my brother get rejected from the college of his dreams didn't encourage me, it crushed me. He wasn't smart, he was a genius. He did everything right: athletics, academics, volunteering, and leading. I decided, that moment, that the only way I could get into that school is if I got a brain transplant. Who the Hell wants to go to Harvard anyway? 

5 intros.

A post is far better than a deer....or at least that's what I told my parents. 

Slamming my infiniti Q45 straight into a pole unprompted didn't quite seem like a good enough excuse; therefore, one had to be invented. Hence, the story of the deer. For those who don't know, the deer came flying out of the hills and jumped into the middle of the street right as I was pulling out of Katie's house (driving below the speed limit of course because it was foggy). Then I swerved, so as not to hit the deer, and I hit a pole instead. "I'm just so glad I didn't hit that poor animal and that I'm ok."  

50 cent and the pervoscope....the only two ingredients to a successful spring break.

"I've been patiently waiting for a track to explode on..." still makes me think of that beautiful week sitting on the beach with my eight best friends. Not surprisingly 8 17 year old boys adds up to a rather explosive mix of testosterone and sadly the recipient was a telescope (better than a 17 year old girl at least). The pervoscope became everyone's favorite tool, a long range lens that could spot an attractive girl 100s of yards down the beach. It's success in spotting them was only equaled by our failure in wooing them. It was a brilliant utility; instilling hope that would only be crushed. 

Roses leading to her front door, and frozen M&Ms in the pool, the only ingredients to a successful homecoming request. 

Elaborate homecoming requests were my specialty in high school and I thought I had this one down. I had rose petals leading up to her front door, with candles to light her path, and then a long scavenger hunt with all of our favorite places along the way, ending with her back in her room, me standing there with a dozen roses, and her jumping into my arms as she screamed "yes!" Needless to say the plan was not as flawless as I had anticipated....

Mint Chocolate Brownie ice cream on my bed, and love in my heart. 

I had just sprained my ankle in one of the most important games of the year. I had some college coaches there to see me, and 3 minutes in the worst player on the other team swiped at my leg as I was running past him. I could barely walk off the field. As I was sitting at home in the bath, I heard a faint click of the front door closing. Why were my parents coming in the house so quietly? And then I heard a quiet whisper of "Hey Sue, I just came to drop this off for him, don't tell him I was here k? I want it to be a surprise." I could practically hear my mother smiling from a room away. As I walked into my bedroom, I saw a quart of Coldstone Mint Chocolate Brownie sitting on my bed, with a simple note that said, "Love you. Since I couldn't be there to kiss it, hope this makes it feel better." 

18 roses on her balcony seemed like a good idea at the time....

With visions of star-crossed lovers dancing in my head, I scaled the side of her house to plant the flowers I had purchased. It was her 18th birthday and this was step 1 in my elaborate plan to make this girl love me forever. I had hand written, with excellent penmanship, a beautiful letter to her, and it was sitting in the middle of the flowers. Now, I knew I could scale the wall, but I never really thought about being able to do that while concurrently carrying flowers. 

Further things I did not anticipate:

1.) The card falling out as i climbed

2.) 1 rose falling on my second attempt to climb

3.) Her stupid cat setting off my allergies so I sneezed about every ten seconds. 

4.) Her Dad yelling, "Who are you, and get the hell off my wall." 

5.) Introducing myself to her father and then explaining why I thought this was a good idea....

with erika sitting right across the table from me. 

Some things just aren't as romantic as you envision them. 

Help HANNAH

Hey class, I know hannah doesn't check her email, but could one of you IM, text, or call her and let her know what's going on with homework and what not. Just figured it will help her so she doesn't have a ton to make up later. 

Thanks,

PG

HW: Dues Friday 10/17

at least 5 examples of a cliffhanger and slightly ambiguous introduction. 

1 sentence each. From your life. 

Hands

Her hands. They were like ice. Thin, sharp, and un-loving. They conveyed a fear, an unspoken, but ever present fear. I never knew what that fear was until it was too late. It kills me how I made her hands change.
I am from a loving and affectionate family. We hug, we kiss, we embrace. Her family was cold, distant, all the things she was when we started dating. Those hands were my constant reminder of how she felt. They were my constant reminder that she did not share my affection. Her hands were my constant rejection.
Every time we drove I would take her hand. I would warm it. I hated the chill in her hands. It frightened me, it was unknown to me. I would hold her hand in mine. Our fingers intertwined, smoldering the ice with my heat.
For so long her hands were my constant reminder that she did not love me. My constant reminder that I had to grab her hand. That I had to get the chill out of her hand. That she did not love me like I loved her.
Her cold touch was like the sun rising, it happened everyday. I get in the car expecting the sun to rise like it always does. The sun did not rise this day.

She reached over, grabbed my hand, and kissed it. Her hand was warm.

Her hands were always warm after that. I had finally made her understand that I loved her. I had finally made her understand that she didn’t need to be afraid with me. I had finally showed her how comforting affection can be. Her hands were a blazing fire.
Our relationship was never the same after that. Things were perfect. She was perfect.
I never had to reach for her hand, we met in the middle. A blazing fire in the middle of the car. Her hands were my constant reassurance that she loved me. Every time I touched them I remembered. No matter how long it had been since I saw her, no matter how long it had been since I touched those hands, they always felt the same. She became perfect to me.
The problem was I wasn’t.




It is dinner time. She is over with my family. It has been a year now. I reach for the salt shaker just as she does. Our hands touch. Pure ice.


I hurt.

Stella

You could see it on her face, not so much on her face as in her lips. They quivered, shook, and cried. They were what I had never seen before, never expected; they were my realization. 

Her eyes were secondary. They had the tears, but her lips are the ones that cried. They spelled out what she was thinking, “what right do you have to break my heart? What right?”

I felt the weight of my face with every word.  My eyes, heavy with shame; my lips twitching with discomfort; my heart pounding with pain.

She just gave it to me, without reservation, without a second thought. How could I not tell her it would come to this? It always comes to this.

The shrieks are what will stay in my memory. As I walked down that hallway it was like I heard someone dying; the shrill, piercing, penetrating wail of despair. and then it hit me, it wasn't someone, it was something....

I’ve broken one heart too many, now its time for mine to crack a little.

Another Unflattering Thing

Write a one page story describing another unflattering aspect of yourself. 

Focus on showing not telling. Encompassing the unflattering aspect in a story, instead of simply describing what you did. 

Also, you must end the story at the unflattering admission (think Orwell's Shooting an Elephant essay).  

"I often wondered whether any of the others grasped that I had done it solely to avoid looking a fool" (227). 

Also, the story must have taken place during your high school years. 

buena suerte

Me Talk Pretty One Day

Read this essay by David Sedaris on P. 273-277.

Answer Question 1 after the essay. 

Then describe how Sedaris reveals parts of himself throughout the story. By the end we know a fair amount about the speaker, how do we gain this knowledge? 

Shooting an Elephant

Respond to the following questions in your blogs: 

1.) How is this a story about two disparate major themes? How are these themes intertwined? (1 paragraph at least) 

2.) What tactics does Orwell employ when revealing unflattering aspects of himself?  (one paragraph max) 

Lastly, write a one page story revealing an unflattering thing about yourself. 

(25 points) 

How To Be Popular

1.) You have a girlfriend. If you do not, do not worry. She is hot, and she goes to a different school. This is an incontrovertible fact. 

2.) You you have had sex before. It was awesome. and you have a big member. If someone calls you out, it is because they have a small member; remind them of this fact often. 

3.) You coast in school. all of the secret studying you do must be fully covered by a facebook, aim, and myspace status of, "out boozing with my bros." If anyone asks you who you went out with....easy, college kids. 

4.) If there is not a horse, gator, or bird on your shirt, don't bother going out. 

5.) You are going to a D1 school for some sport...."No, no, no, suffolk is D1 in my sport"

6.) You have hooked up with half the school, and the other half tried to hook up with you last night. Fact. 

7.) If you do actually end up hooking up with someone at a party, don't worry, you can cover yourself. "My girl and I are on a break." 

8.) During class you remain as aloof as possible and only answer questions where you can make a vague reference to drugs, women, sex, or all of the above with the teacher. 

9.) All you do, all day, is drink, talk to girls, smoke, or have sex.....if you have time, you can play sports.....or video games

10.) All of your friends are cool, but slightly less cool than yourself. 

11.) When you are in class, constantly snicker, giggle, and laugh. When someone looks at you, laugh harder.  Never explain any of these actions. 

Argumentative Essays

2 page minimum

3 page maximum

Post to your blog

Bring in a paper copy

Due Monday October 6th.