A Good Friend

I have known my friend Sarah since first grade. Even then she was loud. Now her voice can carry over a crowd as she streaks a comment. She ends up sweeping you up in the excitement of her plans during a conversation. She also loves to talk about everything that has happened to her since she last saw you. Hanging out around her a lot, you end up hearing the same story repeated to each new person she sees. Many times over the past few years I have been forced into listening to the same thing over and over again. "Did I tell you, my phone got ran over by a truck!" she would squeal as soon as I was in earshot. She is and was absolutely obsessed with her phone, but she never manages to keep the same one for more than a few months. Something always happens.

Sarah can definitely be described as an egotist at some times. She refuses to shut up about herself. Her natural volume overwhelms all thoughts of a subject change. She can also listen to your problems if you need help and will try to think of some way to help. Her help is short lived, though. I don't think it is possible for her thoughts to stay on one subject for longer then ten minutes. Her confidence is not easy to miss. She'll not shy away from anything, no matter how daunting. She is easy to hate and even easier to love. I can't imagine not knowing her and being her friend.

An Early Memory

Every summer when I was younger, my family and I would spend a few hours in the car, driving down to the Oregon coast. I remember sitting in my seat, squirming. "How much longer? Are we there yet?" I would ask every few minutes. It seemed to take forever to get there. To keep me entertained, my mom would tell me the exit number, so I could count down how long we had left to travel. We would have competitions, who could spot the ocean first. Driving back that way, it seem incredible how soon we started looking for the water, we would barely be over the pass before we would start staring out the window, searching for blue between the trees.

As soon as we got to our hotel, I would insist on going to the beach. No matter the weather, I would insist on getting wet. As a child, I could hardly stand to look at water without splashing in it. With my sister and dad in tow, I would charge into the water. I never felt the cold, it just seemed natural to me. At first we would stay close to shore. There was always little waves that we could jump over. Our rule was the that you couldn't just walk through the wave, you had to jump over it. Jump by jump, we made our way into deeper water. Soon the water would be so deep that my dad had to hold me up. The funnest thing would be for him to hold on to me, the water was well over my head by then, and as soon as a wave came, he would lift me up so I could jump over it. After a while of splashing and getting dunked, we would wade back in to my mom who was waiting with sandy, but dry, towels. For some reason, the trip home didn't ever seem as long as the impatient trip in.

Jane Eyre- Imagery

As I read through Jane Eyre, I am amazed by the onslaught of imagery. Even in dialogue you can picture what the characters are talking about, or more likely, debating. But why does the author do this? It's not to torture the students trying to annotate the book, that I can almost say for a fact. To me it seems like the author is trying to more of convey why Jane does what she does.

In the beginning of the story, Jane describes her evil cousin. You can't help but sympathize with her when her when her aunt punishes her. Who wouldn't have gotten angry at her cousin for that? The author seems to be using imagery to make you agree with Jane's decisions and show how the characters were developing. I also noticed that at the beginning, Jane described everything with a sadness that was reflected in the imagery. After Jane started enjoying herself more and finding some thing she really liked, the imagery changed with her feelings toward life.