Obstacles

What would life be like without any obstacles? If everything went exactly as planned and you were never faced with any problems? Most people would think that that would be a good thing; but would it really be? Would you really enjoy never being able to experience that feeling of overcoming that "powerful force"? I believe that obstacles are actually an important part of our everyday lives. I believe that they make life interesting and worth living. In the novella, The Old Man and the Sea,Santiago, the old man, is faced with many obstacles. The obstaclesSantiago faces range from very minor obstacles, to rather large ones. The more major challenges he faces were the sharks, his luck, and his old age.
Have you ever been so close to reaching a goal that you can almost taste it? But have you ever had it taken away while it was right within your reach? That is what happened to Santiago: after eighty four days of waiting he finally catches a fish, and no, not just any fish but a giant marlin. The old man is thrilled that he finally makes a catch, but it isn’t long before it’s taken away from him by the sharks. "The shark closed fast astern and when he hit the fish the old man saw his mouth open and his strange eyes and the clicking chop of the teeth as he drove forward in the meat just above the tail,"(101). This is one obstacle that, although he tries to beat them off, Santiago cannot over come. However, I believe that it could have been avoided, if he hadn't tied the fish to the side of the skiff then the sharks would not have had such easy access to it. Even if the marlin was too big to fit in the boat, I'm sure he could have found some way to get it in there, or he could have cut it up into smaller sections so that it would fit better. But because he didn't he ran into a large road blocker that he couldn't quite get past.
A common obstacle that everybody faces in life is age; usually it holds you back from doing something. Whether it is when you are younger and you are unable to ride the roller coaster, or you are becoming too old and you are unable to drive anymore. Age puts a restriction on the things you would like to do, and accomplish. “Everything about him was old,” (10). Santiago is not as young as he once was and he defiantly isn't as young as the other fisherman which is yet another conflict that Santiago faces through out the story. The obstacles that the old age brings about are lack of strength and increase of drowsiness. Both of these have large effects on Santiago's ability to fish. However, when the marlin hooks on to his line he doesn't let either hold him back; he fights against this very strong fish and ends up prevailing over the massive fish. Age is an obstacle that you can't do anything about. There's no way you can avoid it, it's just what you to help over come it. And in this story I think the old man does a pretty good job dealing with his age, he doesn't really let it hold him back and he doesn't use it as an excuse for why he hadn't caught a fish. And with things you have no control over, you just have to learn to deal with them.
A struggle that not everyone believes in, but no one has any control over is luck. Some believe they have extremely good luck, others think that they no luck, while some don't even believes in luck at all. Santiago does not have much luck, "and he had gone eighty-four days without taking a fish,"(9). However he doesn't give up, and continues to be optimistic. "they [Santiago's eyes] were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated" (10). Fate is something that we, as humans, have no control over. When faced with bad luck there are too things you can do with it: you can either quit whatever you are doing, or you can wait it out, and eventually things will look up. In the story, the old man chooses to stay positive and not give up on fishing.
So what would life be like without any obstacles? I think it would be pretty boring. Like what would be the point of books? Every story needs some sort of conflict. In the novella the old man and the sea, what would the story be without the sharks and Santiago's age and lack of luck? Without these elements there wouldn't be much of a story.

Third Quarter ORB

Dear John by Nicholas Sparks. Grand Central Publishing, 2007. Genre: Realistic Fiction

Dear John is another heart wrenching novel by Nicholas Sparks; the story is about the relationship between two young people: John Tyree and Savannah Curtis. When they first fall in love, everything seems perfect, but when John has to return to the army and Savannah has to return to school they are faced with a big problem: separation. But while they are on other sides of the world they find a way they can still “be together”, and that’s by sending letters to each other.

“Nicholas Sparks is one of the best-known writers in America and overseas for good reason: He has written stories that reveal the yearning for our most prized possession: love,” says Mobile Register (AL).

Sparks tells this story in a way were you feel for the characters and you are just waiting to see what happens next. This is the third novel I have read by Sparks and just like the others, I really enjoyed it. His style of writing is unlike any other writer’s, which I have read. However this style is consistent throughout all of his works.

“Dear John, There’s so much I want to say to you, but I’m not sure where I should begin. Should I start by telling you that I love you? Or that the days I’ve spent with you have been the happiest in my life? Or that in this short time I’ve known you, I’ve come to believe that we were meant to be together? I could say all those things and all would be true, but as I reread them, all I can think is that I wish I were with you now, holding your hand and watching for your elusive eyes,” (168.)

I would have to say that Nicholas Sparks is probably my favorite writer. So far I have read The Notebook, The Last Song, and now Dear John. I plan on reading other books by Sparks, including The Lucky One and Message in a Bottle. I would recommend any book by him to someone looking for a good romance novel. He is a great writer and I think many would enjoy his work.

3000 miles

I pulled into the driveway after stopping at 711 for a slurpee on my way home from school. As I got out of my unkempt car and started for the side door, I noticed dad’s truck was in the garage. Hmm, maybe he got out early, I thought. I walked in to the kitchen and dropped my bag on the counter; dad, looking quite lethargic, was on the phone in the dining room with piles of papers in front of him. I stood there for a few minutes waiting for him to get off the phone, when my cell phone started vibrating in my pocket. I grabbed my phone and slid it open; the screen read “NEW MESSAGE”. I opened the text and who else would it be but my paragon of a boyfriend, Shawn. Hey Nae How was your day? Wanna go to the boy’s basketball game tonight? Let me know! I clicked reply and quickly typed I’d love to Hun, pick me up around 3 and we can grab something to eat?


Shawn was knocking on the door right at three, and of course, I wasn’t ready yet. He came in and talked with my little brother while I finished getting ready. Fifteen minutes later, I came down the stairs and saw Shawn sitting there, looking even better than he looked fifteen minutes ago when I let him in the door. He got up off the couch and came over and gave me a kiss. I grabbed my jacket and we headed out to the car. Shawn, being the gentleman he is, opened my door for me and helped me in the truck, and then got in on his side. He put the keys in the ignition and started up his old beat up truck as I slid over closer to him so he could put his arm around me. “So babe, where do you wanna go to eat?” and as cliché as it might be, I always loved when he called me that,

“I was thinking Dairy Queen, but wherever, it doesn’t really matter to me.” I answered. He turned on the radio to my favorite station, 97.8, and we sang along to country music until we arrived at Dairy Queen.

We pulled into the almost empty parking lot and parked next to the giant ice cream cup. I hopped out of the truck and headed for the door that he was already holding open for me. Once inside, we ordered our food from some grouchy old woman behind the counter. While Shawn waited for our food I went and found us a table to sit at. I took my phone from my bag, to check if I had any new texts, and it read “3 MISSED ALERTS” one was a text from “Mom”, the others were calls from “Home”. As I went to go open the text, Shawn called out for me to help him with the food; I threw my phone back into my bag and went and grabbed the drinks from the counter. We ate our food and talked and laughed; it was a good thing we were the only people in there because we were being really obnoxious, which is the way we always are when we’re together. As I walked to the trash, the same crabby lady gave me a dirty look and after that we got out of there as fast as we could.

After dinner we made our way to the high school for the basketball game. The front lot was packed with cars, so Shawn drove around to the back lot to find a parking spot. As we drove around to the back, I remembered the text from my mom so I found my phone and opened the “NEW MESSAGE” it read Nicole Rae, you need to come home right now, we need to talk. Crazy thoughts begin to rush through my mind, about what this could possibly be. As I sat there laconicly and I began to cry, Shawn asked “What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

I shook my head and said “I need to be brought home.”

Shawn of course did what I said and brought me home. As we drove him he tried to talk to me but I wouldn’t answer; I couldn’t talk. When we arrived to my house I looked at him with red, swollen eyes, he grabbed my hand and said “Please call me as soon as you can. I love you.” I hugged him and began to cry again, he held me for a few minutes trying to quell me. I kissed Shawn on the cheek and got out of the truck, as I headed up the drive way to the door I wiped my face and tried to regain my composure.

I walked in and immediately went to find my mother. She was in her room, philegmaticly emptying her closet.
“What are you doing?” I asked in an annoyed, confused and scared tone.

“Honey, sit down,” she said, trying to hedge me.

“No mom! Just tell me! What is it?!”

“Well, your father was offered a promotion, but it involves moving…to Seattle.”

I was in rebuttal, “Seattle, Washington?! Are you kidding me?! You can’t take me out of the school I’ve been going to my whole life, my sophomore year! And what about my friends here and what about Shawn?! You expect me to bequeth all of that?! This is freakin’ ridiculous!” I stormed out of the room and into my room slamming the door behind me. At that point I was doleful and couldn’t stop crying enough to call him so I texted him, I’m coming over. I grabbed my keys, flew down the stairs, and went and got in my car. I sat there for a minute, letting the bad news soak in. Finally, I put the keys in and started it up.

I got to Shawn’s red, wizened farmhouse; he was outside sitting on the front porch waiting for me to get there so he could mallify me, and when I saw him out there, I lost it. I began crying so hard I could barely breathe. He came over to my car and got in the passenger seat. He said “What’s wrong babe?”

“I…” I couldn’t answer.

“It’s okay, just take a deep breath.”

“I’m moving! Moving to Seattle! That’s 3000 miles away from here!” he was in shock, he grabbed me and held me tight. We sat in the car for a good 20 minutes before either one of us said anything.

Finally he whispered in my ear “No matter where you are Nae, whether it be Seattle, the moon or right here in my arms, I’ll always love you.”

I’m a senior now at Shorecrest high school, here in Seattle, Washington. Shawn and I just celebrated our four year anniversary, this past October. After the move, we were both songuine that we could make our long distance relationship work, and we did. He’s coming out to visit me this December during Christmas vacation and we are going to spend the holidays together. I'm elated to see him. We talk to eachother daily, whether it be through a text or on the phone or through our webcams. That cold day in February was probably one of the worst days of my life, but in a way, I’m thankful that all of this happened because it has made mine and Shawn’s relationship so much stronger.

Second Quarter ORB Review

‘Tis by Frank McCourt. A Touchstone Book, 1999 Genre:Memoir

‘Tis is the second of Frank McCourt’s memoirs that he’s written. The first was Angela’s Ashes. The first book was about McCourt’s life as a child growing up in a poor family in Limerick, Ireland. ‘Tis, the story I read, is about him coming to America as a young man and trying to fit in and find something he enjoys. He goes through quite a few jobs before finding one that suited him best: a teacher. Along the way he meets many people that have an effect on his life, one of them being his wife, Ellen Frey.

“A remarkable book, often hilariously funny, occasionally painful, always lively…McCourt…possesses a singular genius that serves him uncommonly well: He can weave the stuff of his life-sad, disappointing, or grand-into glorious stories, as funny as any I know.” Says Jill Laurie Goodman, of The Philadelphia Inquirer.

Since this is a memoir, the story is told in first person. McCourt’s story is really not all that funny, but as he writes he uses humor keeping his readers interested. Also at some points in the story he has a very serious tone making it seem quite sad and real.
‘Tis shows readers what life was like for not only an Irish immigrant but immigrants of all nationalities, during the 50’s. It shows the struggles and emotions of McCourt as he tries to find where he belongs in this new society: America.

"I drank my beer and wondered what kind of a country is this where cops keep telling you move on, where people put pigeon shit in your ham sandwich, where a girl who's engaged to a football player walks away from me because I'm not wearing a tie, where a nun will baptize Michael...what's left of him though he suffered in a concentration camp and deserves to be left in his Jewish condition bothering no one, where college students eat and drink to their hearts' content and moan about existentialism and the emptiness of everything, and cops tell you once again, Move on," (207).

I enjoyed reading ‘Tis and I am thinking about reading McCourt’s first memoir Angela’s Ashes. I really liked the way he wrote with such humor on such a serious topic. This book also gave me a better idea for what it was and probably still is like today, for immigrants in America.

First Quarter ORB Review

The Last Song by Nicholas Sparks. Grand Central Publishing, 2009. Genre: Fiction

The Last Song by Nicholas Sparks is about 17 year old Ronnie who is sent from New York, by her mother, to spend the summer in North Carolina with her Father. Ronnie’s parents were divorced when she was younger and she hasn’t talked to her father ever since. She plans on spending her summer avoiding her father and talking to him the least she can. But somehow she finds herself falling for a boy that is not her type and reconnecting with her dad that she hasn’t talked to in four years. This story is about first loves and love between parent and child.

The publisher raves “The tale that unfolds is an unforgettable story of love on many levels—first love, love between parents and children — that demonstrates, as only a Nicholas Sparks novel can, the many ways that love can break our hearts...and heal them.”
The story is told from four different points of view: Ronnie's, Steve's, Marcus', and Will's. Each person's stories comes together to tell the story of what happens to Ronnie that summer. The Last Song reminded me a lot of My Sister’s Keeper. Not that the topics are a little similar, but the way both are written. Picoult is known for her novels being told from different points of view and in Spark’s newest novel, he does the same. I enjoyed this because it is different than Sparks’ other pieces that I have read. Although this novel is similar to his other pieces because of his very descriptive writing, and his subject of love.

“Life, he realized, was much like a song. In the beginning there is a mystery, in the end there is conformation, but it’s in the middle where all emotion resides to make the whole thing worthwhile” (376)

I became interested in Sparks’ work after seeing the movie The Notebook. I read The Notebook within a few days and decided the novel was much better than the movie. Over the summer I found out that Sparks’ was working on a new book, so I had my dad preorder it for me. It came in the second week of September and I read the whole book within a week. I don’t enjoy reading that much, but there’s something about Sparks’ novels that doesn’t allow me to put them down.

Value Essay

Lean on Me by Bill Withers

In this world of hustle and bustle; do we ever take the time to realize what we value? Not our shiny BMW sitting in the drive way, or our brand new iPod that holds a million songs, not the things that hold financial value. But the time we spend with loved ones, those warm summer days on the beach, the first snow fall of the winter. Aren’t these the things that we should value the most? In this day and age it seems as though it takes a death or a tragedy to make us realize what we truly value. And why is this? Do those material objects really have more value than those priceless moments? Are these really the things that matter most in life?

I run downstairs to retrieve the snowman chip and dip tray for mom. The doorbell rings, a sound that will be constant throughout the next hour or so. I run back up the stairs and to the door to welcome in my grandparents from the cold snowy night. I take their jackets and hang them in the coat closet. For the next hour people arrive, bringing gifts to stick under the glowing evergreen, they also bare crock pots and tins full of delicious food that we will feast on later in the evening.
Everyone has arrived and food is set out on the table, unlike most families we don’t have a giant turkey dinner but everyone brings a dish. There are meatballs in a crock pot, a big pan of ziti, a pan of kabushka, a large bowl of salad prepared by me and my mother, and a tray of chicken wings. Everyone grabs one of the holiday themed paper plates my mother has bought from the store. I wait in line until it is my turn to help myself to the delicious food. I take my plate, after I’ve served myself, and head into the family room to eat with my cousins and dad.
When finished eating I take my plate and my younger cousin’s plate into the kitchen. At this point my mom is already beginning to clean up. I offer to help with the dishes, only being nice, and of course she accepts my offer. I spend the next 20 minutes scraping the unfinished food off of people’s plates into the garbage disposal. As gross as this task is, I enjoy it because all the girls are in the kitchen talking and catching up, while the guys and the kids began gathering around the Christmas tree.
After my last plate is scraped I make way into the living room, where everyone is sitting around the tree waiting for their gift, the adults just as eager as the little ones, including myself. The next few hours are spent receiving and giving gifts, and enjoying one another’s time. I watch as each person opens their gift, looking for the fake-I really hate this gift-smile, or the genuine-thank you so much-smile.

Click! I pull the seatbelt over my chest and buckle in for the 40 minute drive to Greenfield. I take the bluish green iPod out of my soccer bag and put the white ear buds in my ear. I shuffle through my songs and find an upbeat song to get pumped up for the game. The notes flow through the wires into my ears, raising my adrenalin before the big game. I raise the volume until my mother yells at me to turn in down. I look out the window; it’s a cool, fall, Sunday afternoon. The foliage covers the valley with different shades of reds, oranges, and yellows, what a beautiful site. As my mind begins to wander off, my tunes bring me back to the thoughts of the big game. I began searching through my songs to find a new song to keep me in the zone, as we arrive at our destination.
This wonderful electronic that I am so lucky to possess is a 3rd generation, mint green, 8GB iPod. It can hold about 2,000 songs, 7,000 pictures, or 8 hours of video. My iPod is almost always with me. There’s nothing better than those soothing tunes when I’m upset or those happy jams when I can’t wipe the smile off my face.

Both spending Christmas Eve with family and my iPod mean a lot to me but I value both for different reasons. I value Christmas Eve because it’s the one time in the whole year where my entire family is all together. I love seeing how much my little cousins grow over the year, and how different (or similar) everyone looks. I love Christmas morning and getting all my presents from Santa, but I truly get more excited for the night before, when I get to spend time with my loved ones. I value my iPod because it does have financial value costing around $180. I also value my iPod because it no matter what mood I’m in I can always find a good song to match how I feel, which is important when I’m really upset or stressing out.
To compare these two totally different things might sound crazy to some people, but there is actually one thing that they both have in common: they are both always there for me. This Monday my 38 year old cousin passed. It was unexpected and it’s been very hard for everyone in my family, including myself. However, we are making it through this tough time because of each other. When one of us needs a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen we’ve been there to console and comfort. My iPod has also helped me get through this rough time because when I need to get it off my mind, or when I need some cheering up I can just turn it on and every care in the world seems to melt away. Without my family and my iPod, I don’t know how I’d make it through these tough times.

A New Friend

How I Live Now, Daisy
Briar Rose, Becca
The airport from How I Live Now

It was a hot July afternoon; Daisy sat watching planes take off and land, waiting for her plane to arrive. As she was watching the planes her mind was drifting off, back to when she was in England, but before the war took place. Back when she and Edmond had their secret love affair; back when everything seemed so right.
“Is this seat taken?” asked a petite young woman with bright red hair, carrying a large wooden box with a briar rose carved into it.
Somewhat startled, Daisy came back to real life and said, “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
Already sitting in the chair beside her she laughed and repeated herself, “Is this seat taken?” Daisy grinned and introduced herself, “I’m Daisy, and who are you?”
“I’m Becca, it’s nice to meet you,” she replied.
Becca had taken some documents out of the wooden box; Daisy broke the silence and said, “Where will you be heading today?”
Without looking up from her papers, Becca answered, “Poland…” she raised her head after a moment, “for business, I’m a reporter for a local paper.”
“Oh, what are you researching?” questioned Daisy. Before Becca could answer, an announcement was made that there would be no planes landing for the next three hours because of a big storm.
Becca answered, “Well I was going to say ‘it’s a long story’ but it looks like we have some time to spare.”
Before she started her story, Daisy and her new friend decided to go find somewhere in the airport that had coffee. They walked around for a good 15 minutes before finally coming to a Dunkin Donuts; they both ordered and had a seat at one of the small, round tables.
“So care to share this ‘long’ story?” Daisy asked.
“Sure,” Becca responded. “My grandmother recently passed away…”
“I’m so sorry!” Daisy interrupted.
“Thanks; but anyways, no one ever really knew anything about my Gemma’s past. Before she passed she told me to figure her history out. And all she’s left me with is her tale of Briar Rose and this box of pictures and papers. This is what is bringing me to Poland.”
“Oh, and you’re going to be writing an article on what you find out?” Daisy asked.
“Correct!” said Becca.
“Well, that wasn’t a long story at all!” Daisy laughed.
“That was the much shorter version,” she explained.
The women made small talk after that and finished their coffees, then walked back to their seats in the terminal.
On the way, Becca asked, “Well now that you know where I’m going and why; where are you going and why?”
“England, just to visit some old friends…” Daisy told her.
“Oh, well I hope you have fun!” Becca said.
“Yea, I can’t wait to see him…” she slipped.
“A him?” Becca caught on.
“Just a friend.” Daisy lied.
They returned to their seats and Becca showed Daisy the pictures and all the papers she had from Gemma. Daisy was giving Becca her thoughts on the pictures when another announcement was made, ‘The 3:30 flight to Poland has arrived, please board as soon as possible.’ Becca smiled and said
“That’s me!” she got her things together and quickly exchanged email addresses with Daisy and then headed off to catch her flight.
A couple months later, after Daisy returned from England, she received an email from an unknown address, she opened it and it was an article…Becca’s article. She found a lot of things out about her grandmother, and she seemed quite pleased with her findings. Daisy was very glad that Becca emailed her the article. She replied to it immediately, and they talk all the time. They have been very good friends since then.