"What is the world's biggest challenge?"
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If you could have anyone's autograph, whose autograph would you get and why?Things to think about:
Rough draft due W |
Things to think about:
| Rough copy is due on Thursday |
The Best Christmas Gift Ever Received...
Things to think about:
| Rough copy due Th Dec 6 |
My best Christmas gift started when my dad brought me to watch The Lion King in the movie theatre, way back in 1994. I loved the movie so much that I wanted a pet lion. After all, my older sister was convinced she was Princess Jasmine and wanted a tiger as a pet, so why couldn’t I get a pet lion? I kept wishing my mom and dad would bring me to the pet store and I would pick out a baby lion cub, like the movie, and I would be able to lift it over my heard like Rafiki did in the movie. Cut me some slack, I was 5 years old; anything was possible... except having a dangerous, not to mention wild, animal as a household pet. I eventually learned from my Kindergarten teacher my family and would be eaten if I had a pet lion.
I was shopping in a big store with my family and after complaining my mom and dad were taking too long shopping for our Christmas clothes (that’s another story), I was given a the opportunity to look at the toy section with my sister. The toy section of that store was amazing! We had to go down one whole level where the entire floor was dedicated to toys. There were rows of toys and an entire shelf of Tickle-Me-Elmos, the hottest toy that year. After setting all off those Elmos, my mom and dad immediately gave my sister and me a time out. I sat there with my sister, scowling and frowning, I saw it: a Lion King Simba stuffy. I asked my dad if I could have the toy if I behaved for the rest of the night. He said no. I asked him again, I told him this was my chance to have a pet lion that wouldn’t eat me. He told me I didn’t need the toy right now because we were shopping for Christmas clothes and not for toys.
I was crushed. When I was denied my pet lion the first time, I accepted this sad truth, and by accept, I mean with a tantrum and LOADS of moping and crying. I had a full meltdown; I cried until I couldn’t breathe. As a little kid, I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t allowed to have that toy. I was so angry; I hated my dad for not getting that toy for me.
I figured if my dad didn’t get me that toy, I would complain to God. I prayed for that Simba toy. Every time we prayed the rosary, I would end my prayer with, “Dear God, please let me get the Simba toy I want.” I never believed in Santa Claus, but a kid my class told me about him, and I figured why not get the extra help to get me that toy. So I made a list, I asked for that Simba toy, a pet stegosaurus, or a pet dinosaur (I was moving out of my Lion King phase and into dinosaurs). I knew it was a long shot because no one told me that Santa only visited kids who were polite to their families, well-behaved and didn’t cry when they didn’t get what they wanted.
Christmas Day finally came and it my turn to open my presents. I had forgotten all about my quest to get the Simba toy, and was cranky that I to wear a matching Christmas dress with my siblings. I opened my first present and there was a toy stegosaurus. It was awesome! The legs moved and its back plates scratched my face, just like the real stegosaurus did when defending itself. I saw a poorly-wrapped present in the corner with my name on it. It was from Santa. When I peeled away the green wrapping paper, I saw it: the Simba toy I always wanted! I yelled as loud as I could and started to cry. I couldn’t believe it! It was the best Christmas present ever!
I took that toy everywhere around my house. I even jumped on my grandma’s couch pretending to be crazy Rafiki, lifting Simba over my head. I made sure it never touched the floor or got dirty, which was a big deal, because I was a very messy kid. When my family had to move to Canada, I had to leave many of my toys behind and was only allowed to bring some toys with me. Guess which toy I first grabbed: Simba. I’m a grown-up now, and I still have that Simba toy. Growing up, I was never close to my dad because he was always away on a flight; but it is the one good memory I have of my dad, even though we don’t talk to each other anymore. I still have that Simba toy with me; he is safely kept in my closet, still making sure he doesn’t get dirty.
I was shopping in a big store with my family and after complaining my mom and dad were taking too long shopping for our Christmas clothes (that’s another story), I was given a the opportunity to look at the toy section with my sister. The toy section of that store was amazing! We had to go down one whole level where the entire floor was dedicated to toys. There were rows of toys and an entire shelf of Tickle-Me-Elmos, the hottest toy that year. After setting all off those Elmos, my mom and dad immediately gave my sister and me a time out. I sat there with my sister, scowling and frowning, I saw it: a Lion King Simba stuffy. I asked my dad if I could have the toy if I behaved for the rest of the night. He said no. I asked him again, I told him this was my chance to have a pet lion that wouldn’t eat me. He told me I didn’t need the toy right now because we were shopping for Christmas clothes and not for toys.
I was crushed. When I was denied my pet lion the first time, I accepted this sad truth, and by accept, I mean with a tantrum and LOADS of moping and crying. I had a full meltdown; I cried until I couldn’t breathe. As a little kid, I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t allowed to have that toy. I was so angry; I hated my dad for not getting that toy for me.
I figured if my dad didn’t get me that toy, I would complain to God. I prayed for that Simba toy. Every time we prayed the rosary, I would end my prayer with, “Dear God, please let me get the Simba toy I want.” I never believed in Santa Claus, but a kid my class told me about him, and I figured why not get the extra help to get me that toy. So I made a list, I asked for that Simba toy, a pet stegosaurus, or a pet dinosaur (I was moving out of my Lion King phase and into dinosaurs). I knew it was a long shot because no one told me that Santa only visited kids who were polite to their families, well-behaved and didn’t cry when they didn’t get what they wanted.
Christmas Day finally came and it my turn to open my presents. I had forgotten all about my quest to get the Simba toy, and was cranky that I to wear a matching Christmas dress with my siblings. I opened my first present and there was a toy stegosaurus. It was awesome! The legs moved and its back plates scratched my face, just like the real stegosaurus did when defending itself. I saw a poorly-wrapped present in the corner with my name on it. It was from Santa. When I peeled away the green wrapping paper, I saw it: the Simba toy I always wanted! I yelled as loud as I could and started to cry. I couldn’t believe it! It was the best Christmas present ever!
I took that toy everywhere around my house. I even jumped on my grandma’s couch pretending to be crazy Rafiki, lifting Simba over my head. I made sure it never touched the floor or got dirty, which was a big deal, because I was a very messy kid. When my family had to move to Canada, I had to leave many of my toys behind and was only allowed to bring some toys with me. Guess which toy I first grabbed: Simba. I’m a grown-up now, and I still have that Simba toy. Growing up, I was never close to my dad because he was always away on a flight; but it is the one good memory I have of my dad, even though we don’t talk to each other anymore. I still have that Simba toy with me; he is safely kept in my closet, still making sure he doesn’t get dirty.
Write me a scary story.
In 10 sentences or less.
The spider was there, I looked away, then it was gone!
When I was a little kid, I wanted to be...
When I was a kid, I wanted to be a traffic control officer. I thought they were the coolest! They dressed like cops AND they wore a bright florescent yellow vest, white gloves, and they carried a gold whistle. The coolest part was whenever they blew the whistle and held their hand up, all the cars stopped and followed their instructions. It was so amazing, it blew my mind! So I told my family what I wanted to be when I grew up and my lovely sister said to me, "When I have a car, I will tell everybody to run over you."
I was horrified. I started seeing news clips of traffic control officers being run over by criminals who were running away from the police. I didn't want to die, so I gave up my dream of being a traffic control officer. But whenever I go ride a plane, I see those air traffic control officers with their light-up batons, I can't help thinking that I was lucky I didn't want to be one of those controllers, because my sister would run me over with a plane!
I was horrified. I started seeing news clips of traffic control officers being run over by criminals who were running away from the police. I didn't want to die, so I gave up my dream of being a traffic control officer. But whenever I go ride a plane, I see those air traffic control officers with their light-up batons, I can't help thinking that I was lucky I didn't want to be one of those controllers, because my sister would run me over with a plane!
Do pineapples belong on pizza?
This is a controversial topic where people both have strong opinions. I've met people who believe that pineapples belong on pizza, and I've met people who say pineapples do not belong on pizza. I am part of that very small group that says, "Who cares?" For me, pizza is pizza; even the "bad flavours," they still taste pretty good. I enjoy the sweet and savory tastes mixed together. The sweetness of the pineapple cuts the savory flavors of the cheese, tomato sauce, and spices. But there are some instances, where the pineapple is sour and it doesn't compliment the savory taste. Alas, there have been times when I have eaten soggy pineapples on a pizza and the pineapple has practically become mush. Those were bad pizzas, but I still ate them. The cool thing about the Hawaiian pizza was that it was developed by a Canadian, so that's pretty neat! But unfortunately, I cannot choose a side when it comes to pineapples on pizza; I am impartial.
This week's prompt is a picture!
Things to think about:
- What is going on in the picture?
- What do you feel?
- Where is the butterfly going?
What is one food you could eat forever?
This is definitely a tough choice for me since I don't really have a favorite food. Right now, I am obsessed with eating Korean food, so the one food I could eat forever would be bibimbap. Bibimbap is a Korean rice dish that literally means "mixed rice." Bibimbap has assorted sliced vegetables (usually carrots and zucchini), bean sprouts, some seaweed salad (wakame), sometimes beef or pork (if you are feeling carnivorous), and it is served on top of steaming hot rice and topped with a fried egg. You can also sprinkle some sesame seeds on top. You can also drizzle gochujang, Korean spicy sauce (or Sriracha if you want), and sesame oil. I love getting the dolseot bibimbap (Stone pot Bibimbap) because it is served in a stone pot! The pot it very hot and you can hear all of your foods sizzle and pop! I like to add a lot of spicy sauce, because I like spicy food. The only thing I am not a fan of is the fried egg, I don't like the runny egg yolk, so I make sure the egg yolk is cooked all the way through. Bibimbap is not just very filling, but it is also healthy for you, because you don't have to add too much oil, nor does it have a lot of bad food for you. You can make it as healthy and as vegetarian as you want, or you can make it as unhealthy as you want, by adding lots of meat and calorie-heavy sauces. With all the wonderful and endless combinations, I could definitely eat bibimbap forever!
Email me at:
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A paragraph explains a complete idea that is about 10-12 sentences long.
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