...EN1320 9/27/14 Unit 2 Assignment 3 Elliot Hulse Motivation can from a myriad of sources. Mentors, books, movies, and music. For the particular goals I’m working towards, I get my motivation from a YouTube channel named “Strength Camp”. Now I’m not a die-hard social media buff by any means, however I can’t help but to give credit where it’s due. Elliot Hulse is the founder and creator of the Strength Came gym in Tampa, FL. I stumbled across his channel about two years ago, looking for a workout regimen, and the rest is history. Elliot is a pro strong man and strength coach, who provides motivational and instructional video blogs available for anyone with questions about strength and physical fitness. Elliot also pushes a more intellectual approach by fusing the body with the mind, his method is simply train your mind and your body will follow. With any mental and physical balance, a certain eating habit has to emerge, which is simply eat for the body you want. The saying “Athletes are not born, they are made” is especially true for his upbringing. Elliot grew up playing high school and college football, with was and excellent baseline for his true calling. Before Strength Camp, He participated in professional Strong Man competitions and eventually buckled down and opened his own gym. His impulse was not the smartest move financially, but the debt he accumulated with the new gym and a little girl on the way lit a fire under him to make this move a success. What...
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...It can wash away earth; it can put out fire; it can wear a piece of metal down and sweep it away. Even wood, which is its natural complement, can't survive without being nurtured by water. And yet, you haven't drawn on those strengths in living your life, have you?” (Golden, 125) What Separates Sayuri for the Other Geishas During the Shōwa period, Geishas were high-class entertainers that sometimes sold their bodies for money. They strived on perfecting their artistic attributes rather then prostituting their bodies for money. In the novel Memoirs of a Geisha, Arthur Golden writes primarily about the life of a nine-year-old girl named Chiyo and her path to becoming a geisha. Golden uses Chiyo’s origins, eye color (destiny) and determination to contrast her with other geishas. However, he does not just narrate her life from another’s perspective. He gives Chiyo herself the role of telling her own story. As Golden introduces Chiyo’s memoir, he exaggerates the hardships in little Chiyo’s life. Coming from a poor fishing village (called Yoroido), she is sold off to a geisha house, separated from her sister, who she finds and tries to escape with (which failed). Later on in life when Chiyo (Sayuri) becomes a geisha, she confesses that she rarely tells anyone about where she was born. Their responses concerning her origin go as such, ‘“You growing up in a dump like Yoroido. That’s like making tea in a bucket!”’ These reactions further recluse Sayuri from telling other men she entertains...
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...23 September 2015 Risks Worth Taking? A Reflection on the Effects of Memoirs The primary purpose of my research paper is to present a cross-section of the current conversations taking place around the way memoirs affect the writers who publish them. Based on my research, it appears that the effects tend to involve emotional and psychological consequences, as well as legal troubles in some instances. The discovery of this conversation helped me to refine my research topic into the question, “Do the benefits of publishing a memoir outweigh the risks of their effects for writers?” This research explores the positive and negative effects of memoirs on their writers to determine whether or not the risks are worth the rewards. Although writing a memoir can result in lawsuits and family discord, it more often proves to be therapeutic and can be the starting point of a nonfiction writer's career. What if I told you that memoirs are incredibly important to our society, because they document the human experience in such an honest way? Although they are valuable, they can also be risky. One key issue is that a memoir’s admissions risk causing major drama for writers, including legal trouble. In addition, they can be a catalyst for burning bridges with former employees. They can also potentially destroy long-term personal relationships. In this paper, I work to discover if it is worth all the drama to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. As I began my research...
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...Memoir It was May 8 of 2008 I worked for Harrelson Toyota before they sold out and went under new management. It was about three o’clock or so. I was already on the market for a new or used motorcycle. Well at about that time salesman that worked there pulls up into the detail shop. The salesman was driving a Honda CBR1000r limited edition, black and red with white ghost flames with chrome rims and exhaust. The bike really looked nice. I was like a fat kid drooling over a box of donuts. I started talking to him about the bike and what he had done to it. We got on to the subject that he was selling it. I continued to look at the bike and walk around it a couple of times. Well at that moment he ask if I wanted to test drive it. Well I realize the big decision was if I was really going to get on it and drive it or not. He said that he didn’t have a problem with it as long as I didn’t wreck, I said ok no problem. So I straddled the big CBR1000r then, I squeeze the clutch lever in and pushed the start button. The bike started up and just rumbled the whole detail department. I pull out of the detail shop and onto the road, and just twisted my right hand about half way back giving it more throttle and switched gears into second and the front tire lifted up off the ground. The adrenaline rush that I got off that was Iike I just won the lottery or something. Then, the next thing I knew I was going about 47mph starting into a curve right near another dealership, Burns Chevrolet. As...
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...Marvin Wright EN1320-01/13/2015 UNIT 3 MEMOIR At age 18, most kids have their minds set on graduation or trying to decide what college they want to attend. But myself, was preparing for fatherhood. Not knowing what to expect, I felt in my heart I was ready for the responsibility. With no job or plan in sight, I knew I had to make some changes because I wanted to be able to take care of my daughter and set a good example for her. I wanted to give her something I didn’t have growing up, a father. As a child and growing up without a father, it was very important to me to be their for my child. I always said that I wouldn’t do my kids the way my father was to me. Not having a father to talk to, attend school activities, or play sports with was a bad feeling. It was very difficult watching other kids out with their father. I felt some type of jealously or envy because they had something that I wanted, a father. Being in the delivery room, watching my daughter being born was unexplainable. I was so excited and nervous. The time was here and reality started to set in. I couldn’t believe I was a father. Being there to nurture her and hold her was the best feeling in the world. With my daughter finally here, I could proceed to keep my promise and be the best father I could be. It was heartwarming being around her and watching her grow, taking her on walks around the park. Doing things with her I didn’t get to experience...
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...Asha Kaur English101 Memoir 11/14/15 Seeing her smile turn into a dejected stare gave me a vibe that this wasn't any old phone call. I dispatched myself from the chair and went to wipe the tear that was slowly making its way down her chin. I soon realized it was too late as the news had struck her like a knife. 10 seconds, that’s all it took to disperse her into a sea of melancholy emotions. I stood there puzzled as she whispered one simple word “Death”. A series of questions arose in my mind as that word gave me the chills. With a puzzled look I stayed silent. Death is inevitable everyone knows that, but when one forces it upon themselves it flips the tables. I realized a tear had fallen down my face as I witnessed my mom mourn. It was complete utter silence, although at the same time the loudest plea for help. I got up to reassure my mom that everything was going to be fine. However this wasn't a good time to console someone who was having trouble breathing at the moment. I ran to get her some water but when I came back, she was on the phone again. I felt the warmth of my mothers face from across the room. My dad walked and stared as he couldn't comprehend what was happening. He sat down , picked up the phone and again 10 seconds, thats all it acquired. His reaction was the total opposite than what I had expected as he started to yell in utter distemper. I went to the bathroom and looked at myself and said one word “wow.” Six months progressed and I...
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...Kevin Kincaid English 101-08, Stroud A Memoir, FD July 16, 2012 Mark and the Gang As long as I have been alive my brother Mark has been ruining my life. Being the youngest of three boys even life’s lessons are hand-me-downs. It is almost as if Mark made it his personal goal to make every mistake a kid can make growing up, and it was my solemn honor to learn from him and not make them myself or so our parents would have me believe. There were many places just outside the boundaries of what was considered “the neighborhood” I was not allowed to go to with my friends. The reason for this was because in the past often a few years before I could even attempt such a thing as riding my bike to the nature preserve, Mark had done so and either stayed gone way to long or found some other trouble. Just a couple mile from out home there is a nature preserve. Mark and his friend one morning without approval from either our parents went for a jog there. I thought my parents were going to call the Governor and have him active the National Guard to assist in the search for him. Well a couple hours later they came jogging back and then the yelling began. From that moment on since Mark didn’t get permission for his jog I could not go enjoy the nature preserve with you adult supervision or until I myself was an adult. Growing up was full of such “Mark rules” but none so insidious as not being able to have my own car until after I graduated high school. You see Mark was granted...
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...Memoirs Of A Diabetic Lorrie Eveland ITT-Tech Life can be challenging when the world around you seems to twirl and sparkle with things that you can’t enjoy. Like a siren calling lovesick sailors to their deaths it can be difficult to stay away. But like the sirens the delicious baked goods and treats that find their way into my life can ultimately bring me crashing into the rocks, death finding me with sugar glistening on my pale lips. Yes, as delicious and tempting certain foods may be it could be fatal. This is a sad reality for anyone who has been diagnosed with Type II Diabetes. This was the dilemma I faced. Some of my greatest memories are with my mother and myself in the kitchen, filling up the house with the delectable smell of cakes, pies, and tasty treats. Baking lit a fire inside of me, pun intended, and I’ve spent my life spreading love through various confectionaries. That is, until I thought my baking life was over as I was diagnosed with this diabolical condition. When the doctor walked into the room with a handful of papers I knew that something was amiss. The noise around me muted. All I could hear was the echo of my pounding heart and the sound of my own voice in my head telling me that this could not be good. Before the words even escaped her perfectly manicured lips I knew. I knew that my test results were off and I knew that my life was about to change. “Your bloodwork showed that your liver enzymes are uncharacteristically high and your blood sugar...
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...EN1320 Composition I | Christmas in Colorado | Module 4 Essay: Write a Memoir | | Jeff Stucker | 4/29/2014 | | Last year my family and I decided to do something different for Christmas and go to Gunnison, Colorado to go skiing for a family Christmas trip. This would include me, my brother, my mom, my dad, and my grandparents. I was so excited ever since I had heard the news in October. I had only been to Colorado in the summer before and I had never spent Christmas away from home before. My grandparents had retired to their summer home in Colorado the year before to live full time. My story begins at the threshold of my trip the night before we left for Colorado. We were all at my house so we could open our presents from each other, but my brother and I would not open our presents from our parents until Christmas morning in Gunnison even though we had opened the presents from the rest of our family that night. This was one of my favorite parts of Christmas, opening presents. I got a lot of cool stuff including a new be spread, a new bed comforter, some new books, some new VHS tapes and a lot more. Finally, it was time for the big present which was from my dad. It was huge! My mind raced with ideas of what it could have been. But to give me and my brother a hint of what it was, they brought us out a smaller present. It was an Atari controller! So that must have meant…yes! It was an Atari 2600! After that, my brother and I decided to try it out and then we...
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...Leland Sedberry Professor Fielden 10 February 2014 RWS 305 Memoir Final minutes of the first half winding down, my team was marching down the field with a purpose. Across the gridiron was our rival team, Mayfield, who we had beat the previous year in the state championship game. It was a cold November night and the stage was set, playing on their home field, “The Field of Dreams,” in Las Cruses, New Mexico in the semi-finals of the state tournament. Up 14-0, we had the ball and were trying to score before going into halftime. I was handed the ball for a running play and then it happened. Falling to the ground as if I had been shot, I had completely torn my hamstring. I was in complete shock as I lay on the ground. As the pain set in, a million thoughts were running through my head. It was my senior year, my last hurrah, and possibly the last time I would ever play football. It was at this moment that I realized I had no idea about my future and where I was going with my life. Sitting on the sidelines while I watched my team lose was one of the hardest experiences I have ever had to endure. I was helpless, and utterly disappointed that this is how my football career would end. The simplest of questions lack the simplest of answers as I asked myself, “Now what?” Up until this point in my life, it had all been so simple, go to school and play football. It was this simplicity that seemed to have hypnotized me into thinking life would continue on like this forever. But...
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...Brindi English 101 10/21/2015 Memoir Essay Do you ever wish you could go back to a moment in your life? I do. Since it’s almost Halloween I have one memory from this holiday from five years ago that I remember the most. My younger cousin Lizz and I decided to go out and trick or treat since its Halloween and we didn’t have anything else to do. It was a last minute thing, so I didn’t dress up as a certain character or anything like that, neither did Lizz. I decided to just throw on some really baggy, boy jeans that I had and a t shirt. Then I found one of my dad’s leather vests. So I threw that on too. When I put it on I looked in the pockets because I felt something in there. What I found was my dad’s cross necklace that he was looking for forever. I also stuffed a pillow under the vest so it looked like I had a big ol belly, kind of like my dad’s. Then I put on one of those clear masks that have different faces on them; they’re out every year for Halloween I swear. I’m pretty sure I wore one of my dad’s hats as well. So basically I dressed up sort of like my dad for a costume that year. My cousin Lizz also just threw a costume together. She wore some camouflage pants and a camouflage sweater. She chose to wear a clown mask with her attire. Like I said, it was a last minute thing for us. Lizz’s dad was being our driver for the night. We really didn’t go knocking from house to house asking for candy. We were smart about and went to all the assisted living places in...
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...Responding with Memoirs The first time that I was introduced to unfamiliar food would be the first time I ate fish. I was at my best friend’s house and her mom had made dinner. Now for most that’s not too bad but after growing up in my family ever since I could remember our only pets were fish since the places we lived would not allow us to get bigger animals. I grew to identify that fish are pets even if they are not very good one or very fun at all. Either way I see fish as something to have around the house that you take care of and not as food. To say the least it was an immense shock would be putting it lightly, to be served a meal of mainly fish, especially seeing it how it was placed on the plate still entirely whole which made me actually have Goosebumps. As the plate was served to me I was completely and utterly speechless, and in a very unfortunate situation. I did not want to appear rude by refusing the meal, seeing as how a fish doesn’t really overwhelm most people as most households normally serve fish sticks, or fish prepared in different ways. Yet I knew with every fiber of my being I did not want to even touch my meal with a 10 foot pole. All I could do was stare which as many individuals know the when dealing with the whole mind over matter thing, staring at the object which is causing you distress can make the whole situation go from bad to worse. I was at a loss, so I turned to my best friend for help or guidance on what I should do, without insulting her...
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...Santiago Torres Dr. Billie Jones English 1101-23 1/20/14 Misleading 100 As usual, I sauntered in the hallway, dreading getting to my American literature class. Mrs. Fisher announced to the class, “Your next assignment is a research paper on an individual that had a great impact on Black History.” As soon as I heard the announcement, my heart beat increased and my palms began to sweat. Literally, I dropped my face on my desk and whispered, “God help us all; I’m about to fail this class.” I had a gut feeling that the assignment was going to be difficult and time consuming. Immediately I imagined the many hours that I would have to assert on the assignment, and the thought depressed me. Little did I know that doing the assignment would bring me one of the greatest surprises of my academic life and taught me that the writing process can’t be rushed. Mrs. Fisher paced back and forth in front of the class room as she explained how someone inspired her to become a teacher. At some point I stopped listing and was on the verge of dozing off. Suddenlty my attention snapped back to her as her words “I get to assign you the person to do this essay on” pushed themselves into my consciousness. Up this point I had thought that we can pick our own person and had settle on Martin Luther King, Jr. Mrs. Fisher proceed to assing different historical figures to different students while the fear of not getting MLK creeped over me. Finally, Mrs. Fisher said,”Santiago Torres, MLK.” For the first...
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...Moving On To Better Things Graduating from high school is one of the big milestones in a person’s life. All those years of being in school since you were 5 years old all the way up to 18 years old learning, meeting new people, discovering yourself, learning your strengths and weaknesses and so on. Finally, it all comes to an end, well for some it may be the end, but for others going to college after high school will be continuing school again in the fall doing the same as they’ve done all these years just a little different. It is such a great feeling, standing on the high school football field, seeing all of your friends and family sitting on the bleachers cheering you on. My parents stood proudly. I almost didn’t believe it was real, I didn’t think this day would come for me. I was never the person to get good grades or get any awards for being an outstanding student. All throughout high school, I barely passed my classes with a C or better, there were a few times I got lower grades than that and I had to retake classes, go to summer school, take credit recovery classes over holiday breaks or even after school. During my senior year of high school, my mom was worried sick to her stomach. She couldn’t sleep at night, she was always stressed out and no one knew why but me and her. I knew my grades were affecting not only me but her too. My mom constantly asked me “Are you going to be able to graduate with the rest of your class and with the rest of your friends?” and I...
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...“This will be a life changing experience! I promise!” she said, rather ecstatic. “Sure. Sounds great, I’ll be there.” I had just agreed to a church related event that would have me locked in for 3 nights, I might as well sound happy about it. At least as happy as one would be in a high school math class, there are not many things that can change the inherent boredom of such place. Mr. Flores did his best to keep us focused, but hardly ever accomplished it. I never had much trouble with math, so I could afford to deviate my attention elsewhere. This usually meant chatting with whoever was close, which brought me to the fated “…I’ll be there.” that sealed my agreement. I cannot deny that I was extremely curious as to what this event was. I had heard of the Arcoiris youth group, I knew some people in there, but I did not know what it was about, other than the fact that it was related to the Catholic Church. None of it mattered at the moment, all I wanted was to go back home and relax after hours of being in school. The portion of my day that never failed to bring joy to me was the end of the school day, and this was only elevated as we approached the last day of school. I hurried to my car, a vanilla-colored 1997 Ford Explorer. The sun showed his mark on the paint. The missing handle on the pilot door and small scratches and bumps sprinkled throughout all amounted to a truly unremarkable vehicle. Of course, it was dirty, as it often was. The sky was always quick to respond to any...
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