<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871</id><updated>2011-07-30T23:20:18.698-07:00</updated><category term='sentenceaday'/><category term='D'/><title type='text'>Insides Out</title><subtitle type='html'>Spilling my guts...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>46</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-5056722887522541843</id><published>2010-10-21T07:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-21T07:56:35.615-07:00</updated><title type='text'>English 10-21</title><content type='html'>Hating himself, repulsed by what he had done, he pushed his legs to move faster and faster to the point of a barely controlled fall.   He sprinted across the field, gasping for every breath his body screamed for to keep his muscles churning.  As he turned a corner out of sight, leaving much more than just muddy tracks behind, he collapsed by a tree and wept.   &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/TMBSRz7z0wI/AAAAAAAAADs/Ir7W-bvVMI4/s1600/running.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530510808363291394" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 130px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/TMBSRz7z0wI/AAAAAAAAADs/Ir7W-bvVMI4/s320/running.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-5056722887522541843?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/5056722887522541843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=5056722887522541843' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/5056722887522541843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/5056722887522541843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2010/10/english-10-21.html' title='English 10-21'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/TMBSRz7z0wI/AAAAAAAAADs/Ir7W-bvVMI4/s72-c/running.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-5149656039114776023</id><published>2009-12-08T11:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T19:16:07.001-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Book Review</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;This semester I selected three books from my long list, varying from in genre, and one book that was forced upon me, including:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck, that tells the migrants' story of the struggles of the dust bowl and the cruelty they were received with. This book drove home the point that "we are one" and the corruptness of some systems still used today, stirring up questions about how America treats immigrants of today. It rounded up at 464 pages.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;The Alchemist ,by Paulo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Coelho&lt;/span&gt;, was a refreshing alternative to the increasingly trashy modern works, weaving a story of self discovery through a journey, much like the classic &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Illiad&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;The Awakening, by Kate Chopin: I found Edna annoyingly evasive of her motherly duties. Now don't get me wrong! I'm all for women's rights but I don't think that Edna was really fighting for rights.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Into Thin Air, by Jon Krakauer, is uniquely written in the only way I can describe it as a newspaper column, strangely distant but still personal, probably the only way to relay a catastrophic event such as his to get all the details in and straight. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;That about sums it up...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-5149656039114776023?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/5149656039114776023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=5149656039114776023' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/5149656039114776023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/5149656039114776023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/12/book-review.html' title='Book Review'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-7784846718343517908</id><published>2009-11-15T05:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T06:32:51.357-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Has News Becomes Slander?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Turn on your TV, your computer, or your radio, or just open your news paper and what do you see?  You see men and women arguing, shouting their "news", talking as loudly as it takes to be heard and resorting to yelling when that doesn't work.  What do you hear?  You hear ranting, raving reporters, overheated Democrats and Republicans.  Chaos... and they call it "news".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;News used to be objective, events were reported as they were, without opinion, and the opinions were left for the editorials.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;But it seems editorials are leaking into the news columns...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;So where are we suppose to find objective news?  I know I can turn to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cnn.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;CNN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt; and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.foxnews.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;FOX &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;for their opinions.  But what if I'm uninformed and want to hear it straight?  Objective news lets the listeners make their opinions.  But subjective news broadcasters have obtained credential ,and people are taking their "news" as fact.  Subjective news is killing free thinking, and our country's unity, splitting us into Democrats and Republicans, and encouraging unpatriotic behavior after their choice candidate is not elected, instead of supporting the one we have.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Broadcasters have gotten out of hand, saying whatever they like about whoever they choose with no punishment.  When news  becomes slander, what do we do about it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-7784846718343517908?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/7784846718343517908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=7784846718343517908' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/7784846718343517908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/7784846718343517908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/11/has-news-becomes-slander.html' title='Has News Becomes Slander?'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-3634832079053405637</id><published>2009-11-13T10:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T10:19:36.404-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sentence 5- Terran, Micheal, and Mollie</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="WIDTH: 0px; HEIGHT: 0px; VISIBILITY: hidden" border="0" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyNTgxMzYxNDQ4MTImcHQ9MTI1ODEzNjE1MjAzMSZwPTIwNjQyMSZkPWI3MzI2NzQmZz*yJm89Zjc2N2ExN2I2YThkNDFmNjhhYzFiNDBmYjk3NGUwYzAmb2Y9MA==.gif" width="0" height="0" /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="360"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://voicethread.com/book.swf?b=732674"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://voicethread.com/book.swf?b=732674" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="480" height="360"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-3634832079053405637?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/3634832079053405637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=3634832079053405637' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/3634832079053405637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/3634832079053405637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/11/sentence-5-terran-micheal-and-mollie.html' title='Sentence 5- Terran, Micheal, and Mollie'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-7958712855885395610</id><published>2009-11-08T07:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T07:46:42.080-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Independence vs. Happiness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;According to the article &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.newyorker.com/talk/2009/10/26/091026ta_talk_mead"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Happy Hunting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; by Rebecca Mead, 30% of women don't intend to be married in five years to the man they're married to now. As divorce rates reach all time highs and it is almost more common to come from a broken home than not and women's depression rates rise, you have to question why. Mead thinks the reason is financial independence, that as women's statues in society rises, their happiness sinks. In my opinion this mass dampening of spirit is not from independence but from the basis of their happiness and the foundation for their relationships.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Let me paint for you the picture of the lives of women in the olden days... women were raised in their close knit families (with divorce rates low, most with a father and a mother under the same roof) and learned how to sew and cook, take care of younger siblings and their family; they didn't spend their time studying literature, but the arts, drawing, music. They grew into mothers that kept the house in order and raised their daughters into suitable brides, and, while the father was ultimately in charge of decisions and budgets, being a source for second opinions and support. Their role in the family was crucial and they were to be precisely in tune with each individual of the family and their needs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Now let me zap you back to present day, where daughters wake up to alarm clocks (not a motherly or sisterly voice) and spend their day in school (away from home) preparing for their future. When they get out of school they find a job and start their lives, and maybe look around for a spouse. If they find one they can marry them with the reassurance that they can undo their vows and keep their money, maybe even get some of his if they play their cards right. Then if they have kids, she can put them in daycare and not miss more than one year at work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;As women's roles in society have gone up and a majority of family budgeters are women, they have become a market target, so their complaints are not only being heard but listened for. Also, women have the choice of divorce since they no longer have to rely on their husband's source of income, turning relationships from financial dependence to... what?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;When women are independent they don't NEED men to ensure they will have a roof over their heads, so what are they looking for in relationships? Maybe it's emotional support... And in a world that turns at the speed of light, it's hard to find someone to really listen to you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Then there's the need for money, the drive of your day, the reason you skip family dinner... Wait! What was that? Turning in quality family time for a little bit more money? Of course that isn't the case in every family, but see how many you can name.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;In the modern world that's caught up in material need and neglecting those around you, it's no wonder women are unhappy now! But it's not because their independent... If they'd just turn their treasure hunting upward and look at the faces around them, they would know happiness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-7958712855885395610?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/7958712855885395610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=7958712855885395610' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/7958712855885395610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/7958712855885395610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/11/independence-vs-happiness.html' title='Independence vs. Happiness'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-5507699471320110518</id><published>2009-10-13T09:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T09:56:23.831-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sentence 12</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Her sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;It was time to get out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;by Catherine O'Flynn in What Was Lost&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;This simple sentence mirrors the simplicity of the character's decision, she had decided and that was what she was going to do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;My sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;It was time to quit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-5507699471320110518?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/5507699471320110518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=5507699471320110518' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/5507699471320110518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/5507699471320110518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/10/sentence-12.html' title='Sentence 12'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-7550295021965650214</id><published>2009-10-09T10:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T10:15:25.032-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sentence 11</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;His sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;In the towns, on the edges of the towns, in field, in vacant lots, the used-car yards, the wreckers' yards, the garages with blazoned signs- Used Cars, Good Used Cars.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;by John Steinbeck in The Grapes of Wrath&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;This rhetorical fragment takes the reader through a vivid description and describes the scene and the chaos in one sentence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;My sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;In the corners, on the floor of the room, in the hamper, on any surface, the papers, the clutter, the laundry with a oder- sweat, old sweat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-7550295021965650214?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/7550295021965650214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=7550295021965650214' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/7550295021965650214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/7550295021965650214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/10/sentence-11.html' title='Sentence 11'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-5137687530625713043</id><published>2009-10-09T09:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T10:02:39.474-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sentence 10</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;His sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;The watchman laughed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;by John Steinbeck in The Grapes of Wrath&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Simple sentence is striking after all the complex and compoud sentences before it, showing that these people in this place is different.  There was no double meaning in his laughter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;My Sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;The woman smiled.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-5137687530625713043?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/5137687530625713043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=5137687530625713043' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/5137687530625713043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/5137687530625713043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/10/sentence-10.html' title='Sentence 10'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-8044251539982186442</id><published>2009-10-07T10:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T10:18:13.465-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sentence 9</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;His sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;When there was work for a man, the men fought for it- fought with a low wage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;by John Steinbeck in The Grapes of Wrath&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;This complex sentence uses a dash to catch the attention of the reader to draw attention to the fact that the men were not fighting each other but fighting against a descending wage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;My sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;When there was candy for a child, the children fought for it- fought with a unfair distributor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-8044251539982186442?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/8044251539982186442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=8044251539982186442' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/8044251539982186442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/8044251539982186442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/10/sentence-9.html' title='Sentence 9'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-5755214210945104126</id><published>2009-10-05T10:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T10:35:50.860-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentenceaday'/><title type='text'>Sentence 8</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;His sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;And there's the end.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;by John Stienbeck in The Grapes of Wrath&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Simple sentence runs home the point, the simple fact that that's the way it is and there is no other option.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;My sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;And that's the way it is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-5755214210945104126?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/5755214210945104126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=5755214210945104126' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/5755214210945104126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/5755214210945104126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/10/sentence-8.html' title='Sentence 8'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-847653666302788555</id><published>2009-10-05T10:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T10:31:34.146-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentenceaday'/><title type='text'>Sentence 7</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;His sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;And then the dispossessed were drawn west- from Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico; from Nevada and Arkansas families, tribes, dusted out, tractored out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;by John Steinbeck in The Grapes of Wrath&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;The list separated by a hyphen goes into deeper detail to show the wide range and the number of people effected.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;My sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;And then the bugs were drawn to the light- from the yard, the pond, the corners; from skinny to fat misquitoes, nats, rammed the light, swarmed the light.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-847653666302788555?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/847653666302788555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=847653666302788555' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/847653666302788555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/847653666302788555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/10/sentence-7.html' title='Sentence 7'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-5108869539747852035</id><published>2009-10-05T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T10:22:35.230-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentenceaday'/><title type='text'>Sentence 6</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;His sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;A man might work and feed himself; and when the work was done, he might find that he owed money to the company.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;by John Steinbeck in Grapes of Wrath&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;A complex sentence that tells a short story in sequence and the structure contrasts working but owing money.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;My sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;The children might laugh and play; and when they come back inside, they find that they have more energy than when they left.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-5108869539747852035?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/5108869539747852035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=5108869539747852035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/5108869539747852035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/5108869539747852035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/10/sentence-6.html' title='Sentence 6'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-6183768057596259705</id><published>2009-10-05T10:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T10:08:25.805-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentenceaday'/><title type='text'>Sentence 5</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;His sentence:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;And it came about that owners no longer worked on their farms.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Improper sentence starting with 'and' to show sequence and effect. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;My sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;And it turned out that teachers no longer took grades on their homework.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-6183768057596259705?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/6183768057596259705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=6183768057596259705' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/6183768057596259705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/6183768057596259705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/10/sentence-5.html' title='Sentence 5'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-1337596347772376803</id><published>2009-10-01T10:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T10:23:34.129-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentenceaday'/><title type='text'>Sentence 4</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;His sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Carloads, caravans, homeless and hungry; twenty thousand and fifty thousand and  a hundred thousand and two hundred thousand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Repetition&lt;/span&gt; of thousand joined by conjunction emphasises the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;magnitude&lt;/span&gt; of the sheer mass of desperate people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;My senetence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Singualy, alone, stranded and helpless; no one and just one and any one and only one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-1337596347772376803?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/1337596347772376803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=1337596347772376803' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/1337596347772376803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/1337596347772376803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/10/sentence-4.html' title='Sentence 4'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-7915334470142731373</id><published>2009-10-01T10:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T10:14:27.985-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentenceaday'/><title type='text'>Sentence 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;His sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;They had nothing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;by John Steinbeck in Grapes of Wrath&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Simple sentence shows the simplicity of their poverty.  They truely had nothing, no "and" or "but" about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;My sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;It was over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-7915334470142731373?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/7915334470142731373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=7915334470142731373' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/7915334470142731373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/7915334470142731373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/10/sentence-3.html' title='Sentence 3'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-1307028233499583543</id><published>2009-10-01T09:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T10:06:37.681-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentenceaday'/><title type='text'>Sentence 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;His sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;"Our people are good people; our people are kind people. "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;by John Steinbeck&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;A sentence containing two balanced phrases emphasises these select group of people are different than those around them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;My sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;This girl is a wonderful girl; this girl is a compassionate girl.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-1307028233499583543?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/1307028233499583543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=1307028233499583543' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/1307028233499583543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/1307028233499583543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/10/sentence-2.html' title='Sentence 2'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-2181510883478782882</id><published>2009-09-25T10:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T11:15:01.363-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentenceaday'/><title type='text'>Sentence 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;His Sentence:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;They streamed over the mountains, hungry and restless- restless as ants, scurrying to find work to do- to lift, to push, to pull, to pick, to cut- anything, any burden to bear, for food.&lt;br /&gt;from Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;A loose sentence full of repetition, anadiplosis, and anaphora to emphasis the level of desperation the people are at in their search for honest work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;My Sentence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;They pushed toward the finish line, red-faced and panting- panting as dogs, forcing their legs to go- to move, to push, to lift, to scurry, to sprint- anything, any form of movement, toward the finish. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-2181510883478782882?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/2181510883478782882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=2181510883478782882' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/2181510883478782882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/2181510883478782882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/09/sentence-1.html' title='Sentence 1'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-4226327701704056857</id><published>2009-06-21T13:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T14:31:55.734-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Modern Convenience... More Like Modern Pain in the Rear!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;In A Whole New Mind by Daniel Pink, one of the experiments he suggests in the book is to keep a design journal. Being the activity I chose, I started looking for household items that were perfectly designed or tragically flawed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two inventions caught my eye; one was brilliant and the other was not so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brilliant: My bed&lt;br /&gt;With not much space in my room but more than enough junk to fill it, every piece of furniture in my room serves a function; my bed serves several. The first purpose is obvious, sleep. The second is the reason my bed is brilliant. Under my bed where most people have a missing sock or a few spiders, I have four average sized drawers and one endless drawer in the middle. These house a good portion of my clothes and my art supplies, giving me enough room to be able to walk around my room without having to get rid of anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not so Much: The dishwasher&lt;br /&gt;One of my household chores is to clean the dishes. More than once I've had to take the dishes out of the "dishwasher" and scrub the leftovers off the plates, which I always thought was the point of a dishwasher. I've tried different detergents and the result is the same, and I'm tired of washing the dishes before... washing the dishes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I've started looking for flaws in inventions, I can't stop looking for ways to improve every imperfection.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-4226327701704056857?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/4226327701704056857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=4226327701704056857' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/4226327701704056857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/4226327701704056857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/06/modern-convenience-more-like-modern.html' title='Modern Convenience... More Like Modern Pain in the Rear!'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-5360433162625585437</id><published>2009-05-24T16:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T16:50:29.002-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Thousand Splendid Suns</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;A Thousand Splendid Suns, by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Khaled&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hosseini&lt;/span&gt;, is two brilliantly written stories intertwined. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt; One story of a young girl that was unwanted and a shame to her father, who was handed off to marry a man that was about forty years older than her.  When she is not able to give her husband the only thing he wants, he turns into a cruel, hard old man and she turns into a reclusive, depressed women.  The other story of young girl growing up in the start of a new age with a mother that has given all her love to her two sons that are in the war and doesn't seem to have any left for her.  She is surrounded by violence and lose and is falling in love with her best friend in a time of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;separation&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Based in Afghanistan, A Thousand Splendid Suns gives the reader a insight of Indian culture.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Recommended by two friends, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Chynna&lt;/span&gt; and Mason, this is one of my favorite books and to those who decided to read it I tell you, keep reading, there IS a perfect ending.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-5360433162625585437?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/5360433162625585437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=5360433162625585437' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/5360433162625585437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/5360433162625585437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/05/thousand-splendid-suns.html' title='A Thousand Splendid Suns'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-7724103387998808138</id><published>2009-05-20T19:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T16:24:23.097-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Of Mice and Men</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;John Steinbeck's &lt;em&gt;Of Mice and Men &lt;/em&gt;is the tale of two men traveling through life together. For Lennie, George is his friend and role model; for George, Lennie is an unexpected friend and a burden, but they're family. Both men, repeatedly getting kicked off ranches, wonder from town to town with only a fickle dream propelling them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;George is witty and small, while Lennie is ginormous and somewhat mentally challenged. Lennie is always getting in trouble, while George is always getting him out of trouble. The duo arrives at a new ranch and find their dream finally coming true with a little help from some new friends. But trouble seems to be waiting around every &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;corner&lt;/span&gt; and Lennie just keeps bumping into it...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I wouldn't recommend this book:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;1. for the language through out the book! There was a curse word on every line!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;2. if your a fan of happy endings, the ending was horrible!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;But if those things don't bother you, you might enjoy this book, after all it is a classic (for some reason).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-7724103387998808138?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/7724103387998808138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=7724103387998808138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/7724103387998808138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/7724103387998808138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/05/of-mice-and-men.html' title='Of Mice and Men'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-4983947002664154918</id><published>2009-05-20T19:44:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T14:42:54.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The End of a Chapter</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;As my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sophomore&lt;/span&gt; year comes to a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;screeching&lt;/span&gt; halt, I feel like the world is spinning underneath my feet, and with it, everything and everyone around me is swirling past. Starting at a crawl then working up to a blurred streak of colors, this year is finally ending. Finally... all the homework, all the tests, all the early mornings, all the endless, dreary classes going on while the sun is shining through the windows, all of it's done!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though the sand has drizzled out of the hour glass of '09, I am still just as far away from picking what I want to do as I was when I was five. With my junior year staring me in the face with choices of colleges, careers, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;colleagues&lt;/span&gt;, I feel slightly overwhelmed by the enormity of my choices; my interests are as scattered as the stars in the sky, each &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;option&lt;/span&gt; coming with it's own specific choice of where to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a year, maybe two if I stretch it, to decide so... for now I'm not worrying myself about what awaits me because I know it will show it's face in time and in for now the sunshine and cool water is calling my name! For now, I'll forget colleges, careers, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;colleagues&lt;/span&gt; and enjoy the few months of freedom I have before they drag me back to the jailhouse they call school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-4983947002664154918?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/4983947002664154918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=4983947002664154918' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/4983947002664154918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/4983947002664154918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/05/end-of-chapter.html' title='The End of a Chapter'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-549543190027673860</id><published>2009-05-20T19:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T19:03:38.404-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Giver</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Giver&lt;/em&gt;, by Louis Lowrey, is a unique book about being different and loving so much that you are willing to make a major sacrifice for their benefit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Giver&lt;/em&gt; is written in simple modern English and is not a difficult read (I read it in 7th grade). Lowery paints pictures and crafts characters so smoothly that you don't realize your learning so much about the character and their community until you finish. Set in a different world, with a different way of living, her smoothness is a great feat. In her world the people are excluded from feelings and pain, and they are forced to be the same through "Sameness".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In &lt;em&gt;The Giver&lt;/em&gt;, the main character Jonas is a young boy selected for a position of great honor, or that's what everyone keeps telling him, but no one seems to know what the Receiver does. Jonas' job comes with rules that he would have never have thought possible; suddenly he was able to lie and was exempt from certain activities that EVERYONE had to participate in. Jonas' secretes and exemptions separate him from his family and friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Jonas is faced with a choice; does he stay in his comfortable home or does he give it up so his community can have the chance to feel real emotions and live their lives?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-549543190027673860?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/549543190027673860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=549543190027673860' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/549543190027673860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/549543190027673860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/05/giver.html' title='The Giver'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-8825510986518756565</id><published>2009-05-20T19:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T16:08:34.651-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The House On Mango Street</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;The House on Mango Street is understood better when you understand where the author, Sandra Cisneros, grew up. Cisneros was raised as a Hispanic-American in the rundown suburbs of Chicago.  She was surrounded by poverty and racism.  She incorporated all she experienced and learned into her book through the unique, innocent voice of a young girl named Esperanza.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;The House on Mango Street is the story of Esperanza, Esperanza's growing up, making friends, overcoming her surroundings, and overcoming what people expected of her.  She doesn't fit in with her family and has had to move so many times that she never had the chance to make friends.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;Cisneros writes this novel in a series of short anecdotes that give the reader a glance into Esperanaza's life without handing the information to them but lets the reader interpret the stories and draw the deeper meaning themselves.  Cisneros gives the reader a taste of what life is really like for Hispanic-Americans, for young girls living in poverty, and for young girls growing up no matter what ethnicity. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-8825510986518756565?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/8825510986518756565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=8825510986518756565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/8825510986518756565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/8825510986518756565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/05/house-on-mango-street.html' title='The House On Mango Street'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-1240968460835579339</id><published>2009-05-07T18:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T18:41:14.061-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Swing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A couple months ago, my little sister fell off a bag swing and broke both of her arms. My dad was the only one with her and the incident scared him so bad that he cried... which doesn't happen. After hearing him tell the story I wrote this, it's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;structure&lt;/span&gt; is similar to &lt;em&gt;The Little Red Wheelbarrow&lt;/em&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Swing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Flying, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Soaring,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;To the sky...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Clutching&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Clinging,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Falling...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Bleeding,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Not breathing,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Not seeing,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Not screaming...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"Breathe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Please, breathe"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Breath...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Wailing...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Cast, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Sling,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Bruises...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"She'll be fine"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-1240968460835579339?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/1240968460835579339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=1240968460835579339' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/1240968460835579339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/1240968460835579339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/05/swing.html' title='Swing'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-4889047345125930014</id><published>2009-04-23T12:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T19:42:13.887-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In His Steps</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Last summer, I was a temp. for my church's secretary while she was on vacation. The job was a joke! I mean the secretary had told everyone she knew she'd be gone and not to call the office. My job?... answer the phone! So that week I got paid to answer about five calls and be completely and utterly bored out of my mind!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;So on my break (from sitting), I walked around and went to the annex. On the long front table, that sits by the door, I spotted a pile of books that looked like they held the promise of quenching boredom. I scanned through them and found one that looked interesting; the title was &lt;em&gt;In His Steps&lt;/em&gt;, and the author was Charles Sheldon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;The theme of the book is WWJD (for those who are not familiar with this let me enlighten you WWJD= what would Jesus do?). Right off the bat, in the introduction, the author lets you know that this is a challenging read, but not because of big words but the thought provoking message it sends. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;The novel is about the founders of the acronym; about a small town church making a pledge to ask WWJD before EVERY decision they make. This movement shook their community for years after.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;If your a christian and your wondering what you can do for your community, how to reach out to your surroundings, or want to develop your christian mindset, read &lt;em&gt;In His Steps&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;If your not a christian but your looking for something for your mind to mull over, like dramatic stories, or searching for something different, read &lt;em&gt;In His Steps&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-4889047345125930014?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/4889047345125930014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=4889047345125930014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/4889047345125930014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/4889047345125930014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/04/in-his-steps.html' title='In His Steps'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-704430495392659405</id><published>2009-04-23T12:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T12:50:30.004-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Animal Farm</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;The latest class assigned read, Animal Farm by George Orwell, was a fable and an allegory.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Parallel&lt;/span&gt; to the Russian Revolution, the story follows the revolt of the animals against the people and then on to the rebuilding of the farm with the animals in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;control&lt;/span&gt;.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;But as the story progresses, there seem to be queer unexplainable things happening around the farm.  Where did the milk go?  Why don't the pigs have to work?  Is Snowball a friend or foe?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-704430495392659405?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/704430495392659405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=704430495392659405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/704430495392659405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/704430495392659405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/04/animal-farm.html' title='Animal Farm'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-1330439434686700816</id><published>2009-04-23T12:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T12:42:36.887-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Favorite "Techi-tool"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Saving me from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;misspelled&lt;/span&gt; words, incorrect and over usage of certain words, has made dictionary.com my favorite "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;techi&lt;/span&gt;-tool".  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;This gadget gets me through papers and books and always puts the right word in my mouth.  Since I am already working on a computer while I'm typing my drafts, this is a lot quicker than finding a dictionary, looking up the word, and them looking up a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;synonym&lt;/span&gt; or antonym for that word.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-1330439434686700816?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/1330439434686700816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=1330439434686700816' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/1330439434686700816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/1330439434686700816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/04/favorite-techi-tool.html' title='Favorite &quot;Techi-tool&quot;'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-4313490010888976217</id><published>2009-04-06T16:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T18:24:27.462-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Big Mouse</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Roller coasters, hotel sleepovers, and Mickey Mouse...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;This spring break I ventured to Orlando, Florida with the band.  The band bunch spent four days in Disney World and other related theme parks.  This being my first time not only to Florida but Disney World too, I was in awe most of the trip.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;But with four days of hard hitting theme-parkin', comes certain down sides.  Such as:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Lines- I waited 2 hours for a single roller coaster in a cramped, stuffy building.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Sore feet- My feet hurt so bad I resorted to biting my hand to distract me from the pain in my feet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Grouchy people- After 3 days of sore feet and long lines, you see a different side of people, some not so nice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Although I enjoyed Disney World, and don't get me wrong I had a blast, I think I would rather stick to more remote places.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-4313490010888976217?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/4313490010888976217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=4313490010888976217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/4313490010888976217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/4313490010888976217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/04/big-mouse.html' title='The Big Mouse'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-1516706473530429852</id><published>2009-04-06T15:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T16:00:31.554-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Exert from Anthem</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;In the world Ayn Rand creates in her book Anthem, it is very rare for men to live to 45.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Allan K. Chalmers' philosophy of happiness sums up the reasons why life expectancy is so short in Equality 7-2501's society.  She wrote;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;"The grand essentials of happiness are: something to do, something to love, and something to hope for."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Without the freedom to choose their occupations, no one to love, and no future, its a wonder the citizens lived that long.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-1516706473530429852?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/1516706473530429852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=1516706473530429852' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/1516706473530429852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/1516706473530429852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/04/exert-from-anthem.html' title='Exert from Anthem'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-4014522641813593894</id><published>2009-03-12T16:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T17:09:37.872-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cathcher in the Rye</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;What would you do if you skipped shcool?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;In &lt;em&gt;The Catcher in the Rye,&lt;/em&gt; by&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;D. J. Salinger, Holden decides there is no reason to wait till his parents get the letter informing them he was being kicked out of shcool (the fifth one) to leave, but takes off two days early to spend some time in the town.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Written in a true teenage boy's voice, it seems as if you are hearing the story first hand from a friend.  You learn the way he thinks and talks as he tells his stories of bars, hotels, and his family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;If you like listening to your friends tell their stories of crazy adventures, add this classic to your list.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-4014522641813593894?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/4014522641813593894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=4014522641813593894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/4014522641813593894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/4014522641813593894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/03/cathcher-in-rye.html' title='Cathcher in the Rye'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-4058552793964832403</id><published>2009-03-12T16:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T16:41:35.449-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pride and Predjudice</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Romeo and Juliet.  Catherine and Heathcliff.  Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;This classic love story, by Jane Austen, tells the story of every kind of love.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Elizabeth's story is of a young girl with a marriage crazed mother, no connections, and no money, that has "bewitched" the very man she has learned to loath for his apparent pride.  Elizabeth's sister, Jane, the prettiest girl in Nehterfield, who has stolen the heart of the rich young man, Mr. Bingley, is too modest to show her feelings towards him to encourage him.  Lydia's flirtatious ways and arrogance has dumped her in the arms of trouble, with Catherine following in her footsteps.  And a story of a friend, who married without love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Brilliantly written with wit and wisdom, it's no wonder this novel has stayed a classic for so long.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-4058552793964832403?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/4058552793964832403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=4058552793964832403' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/4058552793964832403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/4058552793964832403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/03/pride-and-predjudice.html' title='Pride and Predjudice'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-6046982153121597531</id><published>2009-03-12T16:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T16:15:18.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Can't Tell You</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;talking + me = trouble&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Ater a fight with his ex-best friend when he said things that never should have been said, this is Jacob Jacobsen's view on talking. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;His solution? Stop talking. Now he communicates through notes on napkins, fliers, even pudding. But will this save him from saying the wrong things or get him in even more trouble?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I can't tell you&lt;/em&gt;, by Hillary Frank, is truely the only book of its kind. Told in notes and her own shorthand, you learn who the characters are by their handwriting, making it more personal. This is one of my favorite books.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-6046982153121597531?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/6046982153121597531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=6046982153121597531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/6046982153121597531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/6046982153121597531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-cant-tell-you.html' title='I Can&apos;t Tell You'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-3589950315305590677</id><published>2009-03-12T15:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T16:15:44.383-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anthem</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Do you ever get tired of doing what people tell you? Don't you want to decide for yourself? Equality 7-2521 did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;In Ayn Rand's novel ,&lt;em&gt;Anthem&lt;/em&gt;, she creates a world that demolishes the individual, where everything is about, for, and because of WE. Everything they do is for their brothers. There is no love, no hope, and no free will.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;But Equality 7-2521 couldn't think that way. He was "cursed". He had committed transgression after transgression, and the only things he cared about are his light and the "Golden One".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So what do you do when don't fit in and are hoping against hope?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-3589950315305590677?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/3589950315305590677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=3589950315305590677' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/3589950315305590677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/3589950315305590677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/03/anthem.html' title='Anthem'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-4247556504222743202</id><published>2009-03-12T07:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T15:54:12.498-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Call of the Wild</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;In Jack London's The Call of the Wild, filled with adventure and violence, is a story of fighting for your passions and finding your place, brilliantly told from a dog's point of view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;London creates a head strong, egotistical, and loyal character. Buck, the main character, is plucked from his pampered life and sold into the life of dog sledding, where he defies owners and fights for his status among fellow dogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Packed with battles and friendships, this book is appealing to both genders.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-4247556504222743202?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/4247556504222743202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=4247556504222743202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/4247556504222743202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/4247556504222743202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/03/call-of-wild.html' title='The Call of the Wild'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-3439914641324240106</id><published>2009-03-11T12:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T17:33:35.433-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Perfect my World...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;To bring the world together and make it a better place, I would distribute food to the hungry and cure the sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rich nations waste tons of food every day, while the poor from around the world starve to death. By simply &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sacrificing&lt;/span&gt; the excessive amount of food each nation has and giving it to a nation that lacks could help, if not solve, this crisis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, vaccinations and cures for diseases sit in doctor's offices, while people in Africa suffer from AIDS, simple because of the price is too high to cure them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a little less selfishness and a little more charity, the world would be a better place. (I promise I didn't steal that from a beauty queen!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-3439914641324240106?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/3439914641324240106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=3439914641324240106' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/3439914641324240106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/3439914641324240106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/03/to-perfect-my-world.html' title='To Perfect my World...'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-6864027956317072580</id><published>2009-01-26T15:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T16:03:08.073-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Antigone</title><content type='html'>Antigone, by Sophocles, is a classic Romeo and Juliet story but it also has other themes.  The main character, Antigone, takes a stand for what she believed in and knowingly risked her life doing so.  Creon, the leader of Thebes, is faced with a decision that will cause him to put away his pride to make the right choice.  Lastly, Hameon, Antigone's fiance and Creon's son, must persuade his father to spare Antigone's life.  This play is great for a short read with twists in the plot that will keep you at the edge of your seat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-6864027956317072580?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/6864027956317072580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=6864027956317072580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/6864027956317072580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/6864027956317072580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/01/antigone.html' title='Antigone'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-6072189773856289142</id><published>2009-01-26T15:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T15:52:40.710-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Listening</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;When you take a stand for yourself, the outcome is not always what it should be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;When I spotted my mom's white &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;CRV&lt;/span&gt; rolling into the pick-up line &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;in front&lt;/span&gt; of the junior high school, I slid into the passenger seat and threw my bag in the back seat. As we pulled away from the school and drove through the streets, I reminded my mom of the upcoming band concert. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;At this, she whipped her eyes from the road to me, and said in that annoying I'm-fed-up-with-you-voice,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;"Why didn't you tell me before now!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;This really pushed my buttons! I had told her two days before about the exact same event and, as always, she didn't remember. I could not take her anymore! I had to take a stand for myself!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;"You never listen! I told you already," I blurted a little too loudly. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Now my mom is not one of those parents you talk back to , and after I said this, I wished I could rewind the scene and draw the words back. A &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;fiery&lt;/span&gt; look entered her eyes and I had a moment of fear in which I thought she might slap me, but to my relief she just yelled,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;"I always listen! I must have been doing something important when you told me!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;My first reaction was to stop talking but then I thought,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;"I'm already in trouble, I might as well get my point across," and tried to calmly reply, "You &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;were &lt;/span&gt;sitting in the living room and shopping on your lap top." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;There was a moment of silence as she realized I was right and searched for a recovery.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;"Well, you are grounded!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;And that was that; there was no explanation why and I knew better than to say anymore. That was the first time I had been grounded and all I was doing was standing up for myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;My mom still does not listen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-6072189773856289142?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/6072189773856289142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=6072189773856289142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/6072189773856289142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/6072189773856289142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2009/01/listening.html' title='Listening'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-5274811656708852803</id><published>2008-12-20T16:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T16:54:42.238-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank God It's Over</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;Thank god it's over!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;As I jumped from my seat at the sound of the final bell, this was my first thought.  It was Christmas break and the end of the first semester of my sophomore year. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;With only five more semesters, I'm one step closer to college.  At first this was a relief.  After all college is going to be a blast!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;But now a slight panic is creeping up on me.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;I don't have a clue what I want to do or where I want to go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;Well thats not true... I actually have several clues, but can not pick just one!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;Should I go to my dream college which is out of state or stay close to home?  Should I dream big and take a risk or follow the other safer smaller dreams?  Should I be a pianist, a physical therapist, a writer, a dancer, a journalist?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;But I've got a while to decide.  After all it's only the end of the first semester of my sophomore year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-5274811656708852803?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/5274811656708852803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=5274811656708852803' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/5274811656708852803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/5274811656708852803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2008/12/thank-god-its-over.html' title='Thank God It&apos;s Over'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-6305278947939747649</id><published>2008-12-20T16:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T16:17:41.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Julius Caesar- friends</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;One of the underlying themes to Julius Caesar that William Shakespeare tried to convey was friendship.  The point was:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Be a good friend and you'll achieve more than someone who is the opposite.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Mark Antony is the first example.  He was a loyal and good friend of Caesar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; When Caesar was killed he grieved and made sure Caesar's murder was not falsely presented.  Antony made sure Brutus didn't make Caesar out to be any less of a man than he was. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; Antony went on to win the battle. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Cassius was the opposite.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;He was deceitful and two-faced to Brutus.  Cassius used Brutus to gain more power, and never truly had what was best for Brutus in mind.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Cassius died in the battle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-6305278947939747649?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/6305278947939747649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=6305278947939747649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/6305278947939747649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/6305278947939747649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2008/12/julius-caesar-friends.html' title='Julius Caesar- friends'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-8928759152964089713</id><published>2008-12-08T18:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T18:48:59.015-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Julius Caesar</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;In my opinion, people with high power should put their subjects before himself in order to be a great leader. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;In the tragedy, &lt;strong&gt;Julius Caesar&lt;/strong&gt;, by William Shakespeare, only one character did this, Mark Antony. All the others were just interested in power and would do anything to gain a higher status. Including deceiving the entire population of Rome and manipulating friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Antony never became power hungry or mad for revenge after Caesar's betray and death. &lt;strong&gt;Speaking at the funeral&lt;/strong&gt;, he gave only facts and let the Romans decide for themselves whether Cassius and Brutus were traitors or doing what they had to for the benefit of Rome.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Antony, &lt;strong&gt;displaying genuine interest for Rome&lt;/strong&gt;, showed real leadership.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-8928759152964089713?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/8928759152964089713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=8928759152964089713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/8928759152964089713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/8928759152964089713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2008/12/julius-caesar.html' title='Julius Caesar'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-1575860925432083784</id><published>2008-11-18T17:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T18:33:46.971-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Relationship Bank Account</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;I remember a day that I had the perfect opportunity to make a major RBA deposit and didn't. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;One of those deposits that doesn't seem that major, but when &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; get caught with your fly down or spinach in your teeth, you &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; appreciate someone letting you know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;I was eating lunch with three friends and an older couple with kids my age. The cafeteria was serving pipping hot cookies, &lt;strong&gt;chocolate chip ones&lt;/strong&gt;, that we were scarfing down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;Then the couple's son strolls up with a hand full of cookies and starts chatting with the group. He begins telling some story and eating his cookies all at the same time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;Bad move, buddy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chewing with his mouth open,&lt;/strong&gt; chocolate began coating his teeth and lips! Now I'm not exactly sure how you don't feel half a cookie on your face but I guess he found a way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;He continued to deliver his story but by this point I had no earthly idea what he was yakking about; all I could do was stare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;I jerked my eyes away to see if anyone else had noticed this oddity. As luck would have it, my three acquaintances had noticed and turned to look at each other with bewildered eyes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;That was it! I busted out in giggles and had to cover it with fake coughing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;We tried subtle hints and desperately tried not to laugh but he plowed on in his story. No one told him, not even his parents. As far as we knew, he could have walked around all day that way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;So my &lt;strong&gt;entreatment&lt;/strong&gt; is this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;The next time something like that happens, just tell the person. I'm sure you would want them to do the same for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-1575860925432083784?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/1575860925432083784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=1575860925432083784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/1575860925432083784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/1575860925432083784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2008/11/relationship-bank-account.html' title='Relationship Bank Account'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-6675870736414799902</id><published>2008-11-17T10:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T10:28:43.963-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;This quote is the perfect explanation for my title, Insides Out:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;"All art is a kind of confession, more or less oblique. All artists, if they are to survive, are forced, at last, to tell the whole story; to vomit the anguish up."  -James Baldwin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-6675870736414799902?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/6675870736414799902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=6675870736414799902' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/6675870736414799902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/6675870736414799902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2008/11/this-quote-is-perfect-explanation-for.html' title=''/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-7261503033026157544</id><published>2008-11-08T20:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T20:46:32.287-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Begining with the End in Mind</title><content type='html'>At first glance this headline struck me as odd.  I didn't quite grasp what the author, Sean Covey, was trying to get across in the "2 habit" of his book &lt;em&gt;The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Teens.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then as I read the "habit",&lt;strong&gt;chapter&lt;/strong&gt;, I understood what he meant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A summary of those thirty and some odd pages is nicely summed up in a quote from Mencius:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Men must be decided on what they will not do, and then they are able to act with vigor in what they ought to do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean's ideal way of sticking to your goal's for life was to write them out as a mission statement, &lt;strong&gt;a written form of your "will and won't"s&lt;/strong&gt;, to refer to when you reach a crossroad in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's what I did.  I couldn't find the perfect quote but I found three that do the job:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Leave no stone unturned.  -Euripides&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The great man does not think beforehand of his words that they may be sincere, nor of his actions that they may be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;resolute&lt;/span&gt; - he simply speaks and does what is right.  -Mencius&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A man is the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;orgin&lt;/span&gt; of his action.  -Aristotle&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-7261503033026157544?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/7261503033026157544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=7261503033026157544' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/7261503033026157544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/7261503033026157544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2008/11/begining-with-end-in-mind.html' title='Begining with the End in Mind'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-2954358254647114264</id><published>2008-09-21T12:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T18:17:57.448-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Letter to the President</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;With all the issues floating around regarding the presidential election, I want to express my opinion on the candidate I think will win, Barack Obama. I support him on many issues, such as, withdrawing the American troops from Iraq, views on diplomacy, abortion, same-sex marriage, and global warming. Obama has my full support and I know he would be the best choice for our nation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-2954358254647114264?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/2954358254647114264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=2954358254647114264' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/2954358254647114264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/2954358254647114264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2008/09/letter-to-president.html' title='Letter to the President'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-5646284556425965263</id><published>2008-09-17T12:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T18:20:26.914-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My opion of sci-fi</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;For English 10 I read &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Time-Machine-Signet-Classics/dp/0451528557/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1221679919&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;The Time Machine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;. This novel is a science-fiction book by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.kirjasto.sci.fi/hgwells.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;H.G. Wells&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;. I enjoyed The Time Machine and found this novel was a good way to get lost in another world. With all the science involved in the story, this genre is very complicated and I will probably stick to fantasy for my escapes to those worlds so different to ours. Even though I struggled to wrap my mind around the science part of The Time Machine ,or any other science-fiction book, the story line of the book was very interesting. With twists and turns, thoughts and theories, the reader is constinently on the edge of their seat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am new to this genre but have read a few novels. The spotlight, for my generation, seems to have shifted to a different genre than sci-fi. Reading the classics of sci-fi will ensure to keep this genre alive and expand our imaginations. This creative genre will help us think outside the box and possible lead to scientific discoveries.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-5646284556425965263?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/5646284556425965263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=5646284556425965263' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/5646284556425965263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/5646284556425965263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-opion-of-sci-fi.html' title='My opion of sci-fi'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7994546900204372871.post-1552621736510332055</id><published>2008-09-17T12:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T19:46:57.261-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='D'/><title type='text'>Meet Tanzia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Tanzia is a sixteen year old girl with long, brown hair and shocking green eyes. Her emotions affects the weather.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt; Although she is a loving, loyal teenager to anyone that will claim her as a friend, few will call her a friend declaring she is jsut too dull.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;In reality, her dullness is controling her emotions for their own saftey.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;When she is sad thunderstorms spring across town; when she is happy golden rays of sunshine warms every ones back. Tornadoes threaten when she looses her temper. This year, leaving the safety of being home schooled and attending the public high school will force her to face all the drama of high school:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;ru&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;mors,boys, and girls.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;On top of all the normal conflicts, she has to learn how to control her emotions.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;If she can't, on a bad day she may blow away the school with a tornado. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;This year, she will discover just how much self-control she has. Will she conquer anger or strike a foe down with a bolt of lightning? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7994546900204372871-1552621736510332055?l=insidesout1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/feeds/1552621736510332055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7994546900204372871&amp;postID=1552621736510332055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/1552621736510332055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7994546900204372871/posts/default/1552621736510332055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesout1.blogspot.com/2008/09/meet-tanzia.html' title='Meet Tanzia'/><author><name>Terran J.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14778101098295106722</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dIBAETk_LB4/SkKghgXsI0I/AAAAAAAAADA/ecU_i177PcM/S220/2009_0101Emilyandflowers0025.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
