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Thursday, June 3, 2010
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Dear Reader
Dear reader,
Standing in Costco on the clock, being told for the fourth time by my 8th manager to do something completely different than my 5th manager asked, I realized I can not get stuck hear in this dysfunction. The only way out I could see was furthering my education, which would lead to more job opportunities. My name is Colt Mercer and I am 22 years old and graduated from Stanwood high school in 2006. I never really wanted to go back to school once I got out. It seemed my mind entered party mode once it grasped the fact I did not have responsibilities any longer. “Drankin and skating boarding,” were my new responsibilities for awhile. Luckily I did not end up getting sucked into that black hole. I received a job working for Costco in 2007 and have been working there for two and half yearts. I owe them a thank you for paying my bills and helping me step into the college life at EVCC. I do not know what I am attending school for yet, but I do know I need to do it. As of right now I am only taking math and English. Math blows quite a bit, but English I enjoy for the most part.
I have always liked to write papers all through middle school and high school, but never really understood what makes a great paper and how people can write 12 page papers. In the past, I was told I had good flow and ideas with my papers, but when ever I was giving writing assignments I always struggled with the length; three pages were all I could push out! As for spelling and grammar you can consider me, “mildly retarded.” Going into English 97, I hoped I would get a better understanding of how a paper really works. Drawing to an end I have to say it really has. You have to be able to get your thoughts or ideas out and be able to discuss your work. Pre-writing was something I never took seriously through out my entire school life, as a result it puts your thoughts and ideas in a better order, rather than them bouncing around in your head like a small child on a sugar high at Chucky Cheeses. Discussing your papers with a peer response group is nerve racking for most, but it allows you to understand your mistakes and in my case add length to my paper. You need to, “Show Not Tell,” in your papers, for you have to keep your reader in mind and paint a strong picture in there head with your words. Flow in your papers is a strong concept to grasp and punctuations and the right word choices help with this. Having a story that feels like a chainsaw blade running across your readers mind is never an enjoyable story to read, you want it to feel smooth.
I have chosen three of my MWA’s, The Aging ’53 Belair, The Wishing Well, Strides To Dislike, and my journal number four, show not tell. I have chosen these due to that fact I feel they show my best work of improvement. The Wishing Well shows my ability of the writing process, my journal number four shows descriptive writing, The Aging ’53 Belair shows my ability to write effectively, and Strides To Dislike is my writers choice. I hope you enjoy my pieces I have put together for my E- Portfolio.
Standing in Costco on the clock, being told for the fourth time by my 8th manager to do something completely different than my 5th manager asked, I realized I can not get stuck hear in this dysfunction. The only way out I could see was furthering my education, which would lead to more job opportunities. My name is Colt Mercer and I am 22 years old and graduated from Stanwood high school in 2006. I never really wanted to go back to school once I got out. It seemed my mind entered party mode once it grasped the fact I did not have responsibilities any longer. “Drankin and skating boarding,” were my new responsibilities for awhile. Luckily I did not end up getting sucked into that black hole. I received a job working for Costco in 2007 and have been working there for two and half yearts. I owe them a thank you for paying my bills and helping me step into the college life at EVCC. I do not know what I am attending school for yet, but I do know I need to do it. As of right now I am only taking math and English. Math blows quite a bit, but English I enjoy for the most part.
I have always liked to write papers all through middle school and high school, but never really understood what makes a great paper and how people can write 12 page papers. In the past, I was told I had good flow and ideas with my papers, but when ever I was giving writing assignments I always struggled with the length; three pages were all I could push out! As for spelling and grammar you can consider me, “mildly retarded.” Going into English 97, I hoped I would get a better understanding of how a paper really works. Drawing to an end I have to say it really has. You have to be able to get your thoughts or ideas out and be able to discuss your work. Pre-writing was something I never took seriously through out my entire school life, as a result it puts your thoughts and ideas in a better order, rather than them bouncing around in your head like a small child on a sugar high at Chucky Cheeses. Discussing your papers with a peer response group is nerve racking for most, but it allows you to understand your mistakes and in my case add length to my paper. You need to, “Show Not Tell,” in your papers, for you have to keep your reader in mind and paint a strong picture in there head with your words. Flow in your papers is a strong concept to grasp and punctuations and the right word choices help with this. Having a story that feels like a chainsaw blade running across your readers mind is never an enjoyable story to read, you want it to feel smooth.
I have chosen three of my MWA’s, The Aging ’53 Belair, The Wishing Well, Strides To Dislike, and my journal number four, show not tell. I have chosen these due to that fact I feel they show my best work of improvement. The Wishing Well shows my ability of the writing process, my journal number four shows descriptive writing, The Aging ’53 Belair shows my ability to write effectively, and Strides To Dislike is my writers choice. I hope you enjoy my pieces I have put together for my E- Portfolio.
Intro to "The Wishing Well"
For my first piece I chose to use my second MWA called, “The Wishing Well.” It is about my first experience at bar when I was only 19. I wrote this paper in the beginning of May. I picked this assignment because I feel it shows my ability of the writing process. At first, all I did was write down any topics that came to my head. Then I picked what I thought would be the most exciting to write about and made a web map. From there I made my first draft and got feed back from my response groups. That helped me push my page from about three pages to four. As a writer I feel this paper shows detail and order. For example, “There were four middle aged men sitting at the bar, all had a five o’ clock shadow. They were most likely friends from high school that never made it of Stanwood. The four men looked as if they worked in a factory or on a farm. The paper shows order by starting in the morning when I first wake up, the events of the day prior to the bar, my experience at the bar, and ends with me walking out of the bar at night.
Major Writing Assignment: "The Wishing Well"
Going to my first bar at the age of 19 was a disappointing memory I will never forget. The day stated like any other day. I woke up around 9 a.m. to my alarm blaring its obnoxious beep. Once the alarm subsided, the first thought came into my head like every morning, “Shit I don’t want to go to work.” At this time in my life I worked at Radioshack in Stanwood. The job was not the most exciting, but it was a relaxed environment, so once I actually made it to work it was not bad being there. After doing my morning rituals of showering, getting dressed, Lucky Charms, brushing my teeth, and running to my car so I would not be late, I thought to myself, “I hope something interesting comes up to day.” It was only a matter of time until my thoughts would come true.
I whipped into the parking lot at about 110 miles an hour, well, maybe not exactly that fast, in my 1997 Honda Civic. I thought I was late, like every day, but for a change I was early. I took my time walking in for the fact that it was a gorgeous summer day. There was not a cloud in the sky, and you could feel it was going to warm due to it being early morning and I only needed a T-shirt. I hate being cooped up somewhere when I know it is nice out. When I reached the door, I opened it and heard the sound of the cheap Christmas bell nailed to the top of the door that I hated so much. My manager was too much of a penny pincher to pay for the fancier electric bell. You know the one I am talking about, like the ones in a lot of gas stations. I could see I was going to be working with my good bud Dan Weatherly. He was counting in all the tills for the morning to make sure there was enough money in them. As I walked past, he threw a pen at the back of my head just to be punk; it was always a blast working with him. He was the manager and did not take his job seriously. Dan at the time was 23 and is about 6’2 and smokes a lot of pot. He dresses like all of those college hippies you see up in Bellingham, with the brown pants and faded shirts. He always dropping the cliché stoner terms like dude and ya bro. I cannot give the exact weight of Dan, but there is no way he weighs more than 155 pounds.
The day was going great for the most part until closing time. A complete ass of a man came in and needed to know information on some cell phones, actually he demanded the information. The guy reeked of cigarettes and grease. After about 25 minutes of trying to explain everything to the stubborn man, he finally waddled out with is new found information that any person with slightest amount of common sense would have been able to figure out. I said after all that, “Man I need a beer.”
Dan replied, “Ok, where?” I was confused, so he answered for me and said we will go to the Wishing Well. The feeling of excitement swept over me, 19 and going to a bar. I felt as if I was the coolest kid ever at that moment. We closed down Radioshack in record time and set forth to the WishingWell.
My first sight in the bar was not what I was expecting at all. I thought I was going to see hot chicks, laughter, and more of an upbeat atmosphere. The place was dark, like a lonely dive bar seen in a movie. The bar tender was a fat older woman with graying hair. Her face was rugged for a woman. You could tell she smoked minimum of three packs a day by the sound of her voice. Behind her sat rows and rows of hard liquor. Wrapping around the bar were lights, like the ones that light up the stairs in a movie theater. In the far right corner there was jukebox, but of course it was out of order. A piece of paper saying, “Broken,” covered it. There were four middle aged men sitting at the bar, all had a five o’ clock shadow. They were most likely friends from high school that never made it out of Stanwood. They looked as if they worked on farm or in some factory. The guys stared as we walked passed to our table. Words were not ever spoken, but I could tell they were not happy. Their faces said, I hate my life, I need another drink to kill this pain. My chair was one of those chairs with four wheels that glide around freely, but this one was special, it only had three. Nothing seemed right in this bar. In my head I thought once again, “This is not what I was expecting.” Long past my feelings of excitement turned into dejection. I sped up the process of being there by ordering an over priced beer, chugging it down, had a little small talk, then said I need to get going. As I was walking back to my car I remembered feeling sad and thinking of my old view on a bar, being an upbeat party environment, was not exactly 100% correct.
Going to your first bar is supposed to be a great memory. In my case the Wishing Well was not what I was expecting. It was lonely, dark, and gave a negative vibe. It was a disappointment, but it is a lasting memory I am glad I experienced, since at that time I had never seen anything like it. I will always hold on to the memory of my first bar at the age of 19.
I whipped into the parking lot at about 110 miles an hour, well, maybe not exactly that fast, in my 1997 Honda Civic. I thought I was late, like every day, but for a change I was early. I took my time walking in for the fact that it was a gorgeous summer day. There was not a cloud in the sky, and you could feel it was going to warm due to it being early morning and I only needed a T-shirt. I hate being cooped up somewhere when I know it is nice out. When I reached the door, I opened it and heard the sound of the cheap Christmas bell nailed to the top of the door that I hated so much. My manager was too much of a penny pincher to pay for the fancier electric bell. You know the one I am talking about, like the ones in a lot of gas stations. I could see I was going to be working with my good bud Dan Weatherly. He was counting in all the tills for the morning to make sure there was enough money in them. As I walked past, he threw a pen at the back of my head just to be punk; it was always a blast working with him. He was the manager and did not take his job seriously. Dan at the time was 23 and is about 6’2 and smokes a lot of pot. He dresses like all of those college hippies you see up in Bellingham, with the brown pants and faded shirts. He always dropping the cliché stoner terms like dude and ya bro. I cannot give the exact weight of Dan, but there is no way he weighs more than 155 pounds.
The day was going great for the most part until closing time. A complete ass of a man came in and needed to know information on some cell phones, actually he demanded the information. The guy reeked of cigarettes and grease. After about 25 minutes of trying to explain everything to the stubborn man, he finally waddled out with is new found information that any person with slightest amount of common sense would have been able to figure out. I said after all that, “Man I need a beer.”
Dan replied, “Ok, where?” I was confused, so he answered for me and said we will go to the Wishing Well. The feeling of excitement swept over me, 19 and going to a bar. I felt as if I was the coolest kid ever at that moment. We closed down Radioshack in record time and set forth to the WishingWell.
My first sight in the bar was not what I was expecting at all. I thought I was going to see hot chicks, laughter, and more of an upbeat atmosphere. The place was dark, like a lonely dive bar seen in a movie. The bar tender was a fat older woman with graying hair. Her face was rugged for a woman. You could tell she smoked minimum of three packs a day by the sound of her voice. Behind her sat rows and rows of hard liquor. Wrapping around the bar were lights, like the ones that light up the stairs in a movie theater. In the far right corner there was jukebox, but of course it was out of order. A piece of paper saying, “Broken,” covered it. There were four middle aged men sitting at the bar, all had a five o’ clock shadow. They were most likely friends from high school that never made it out of Stanwood. They looked as if they worked on farm or in some factory. The guys stared as we walked passed to our table. Words were not ever spoken, but I could tell they were not happy. Their faces said, I hate my life, I need another drink to kill this pain. My chair was one of those chairs with four wheels that glide around freely, but this one was special, it only had three. Nothing seemed right in this bar. In my head I thought once again, “This is not what I was expecting.” Long past my feelings of excitement turned into dejection. I sped up the process of being there by ordering an over priced beer, chugging it down, had a little small talk, then said I need to get going. As I was walking back to my car I remembered feeling sad and thinking of my old view on a bar, being an upbeat party environment, was not exactly 100% correct.
Going to your first bar is supposed to be a great memory. In my case the Wishing Well was not what I was expecting. It was lonely, dark, and gave a negative vibe. It was a disappointment, but it is a lasting memory I am glad I experienced, since at that time I had never seen anything like it. I will always hold on to the memory of my first bar at the age of 19.
Intro to Journal 4 "Faded Black Honda"
For my second piece I chose to use my journal number four called, “Faded Black Honda. We were asked to have a ten minute free write on a vehicle and be descriptive. I chose this piece because I feel for one of my first journals I grasped the topic we were learning about in class, which was being descriptive. A good example of description in this piece is, “Opening the door, a sharp screeching, came from the rusty door hinges. From the dingy, ripped drivers’ seat, came a mound of trash poring directly to my feet.”
Descriptive piece: Journal 4 "Faded Black Honda"
At first glance the faded black Honda looked as if some one once used it as a dumpster. Opening the door a sharp screeching came from the rusty door hinges; as a result, from the dingy, ripped drivers seat came a mound of trash pooring to my feet. The once flawless, smooth dash is now weather beaten from the years of sun abuse. The odor from the half spilled, gallon of milk in the back seat almost instantly induces vomiting. The sad thing is that if I do vomit on spot in this vehicle you would not even be able to tell where it landed.
Intro to "The Aging '53 Belair"
For my third piece I chose to use my first MWA called, “The Aging 53’ Belair.” This piece shows my understanding of the audience and purpose. It is about an old neglected car my father has rotting about in his yard. This was our first major writing assignment we had to do in April that was supposed to put a picture in the reader’s mind of the object you are talking about. I chose to use this piece because, for my first detailed paper, I feel it shows great description. For example, “Long lanky blades of grass lay around the tires from where the lawn mower blades can not reach.” “The chrome has long lost its shine and attraction, spots of rust and a dull gray tone are the only things that shine in this bumper now.”
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