<?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-5974335160278103212</id><updated>2011-11-17T15:33:21.835-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things to ponder upon</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SnFVqKpLdGs/TsWYS4YDIoI/AAAAAAAAACQ/55eh_Y4ZsP8/s220/IMG_1767.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5974335160278103212.post-1748080037053812500</id><published>2011-11-17T14:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-17T15:13:10.762-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thinking on the Future Past</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I am about to finish my first semester at college. Imagine that! A few short months ago, I was just beginning to pack for the move and now I'm getting ready to pack up my things to go home for Thanksgiving break and then shortly after for Christmas break!  The time has most definitely flown by. I've always thought of me moving to college as a fresh start. Someplace new where no one knows me and I can just be me. And honestly, It seems that I'm still waiting for that. My past, the first semester of college where the starting over was supposed to take place, still seems like the future. Like I still need to start over. But what am I really wanting to happen? Do I want a complete new person to just suddenly take my place? Or am I just waiting for me to finally get my head on straight and be that successful person who has everything figured out like I've always imagined I would be? Because the second has definitely not happened thus far. I guess what I'm trying to say is that it seems that we're always wanting to be someone different when shouldn't we just want to be ourselves? We can't be anything else anyways.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5974335160278103212-1748080037053812500?l=writedances.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/feeds/1748080037053812500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2011/11/thinking-on-future-past.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/1748080037053812500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/1748080037053812500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2011/11/thinking-on-future-past.html' title='Thinking on the Future Past'/><author><name>Sara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SnFVqKpLdGs/TsWYS4YDIoI/AAAAAAAAACQ/55eh_Y4ZsP8/s220/IMG_1767.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5974335160278103212.post-2209140807023744734</id><published>2010-05-20T07:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T06:52:05.609-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Never Ending Night</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;HOLOCAUST&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The term holocaust basically means a complete devastation or destruction. This is how the killing of over 6 million Jews received the name The Holocaust. This was a horrible time in the history of the world where a group of people was massacred just because of what they believed in and how they lived their everyday lives, it was a devastation and destruction of an innocent people. Whenever I think about The Holocaust, my heart breaks. To think of all of the families that were torn apart and the friendships that were destroyed sends a shock of sadness throughout my entire body. My mind races to think of ways that I could sugar-coat this time, to make it as if this tragedy was not nearly as bad as it was, and that people were just over exaggerating. However, this is not possible. The Holoc&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aTEm729D_Z8/TAABCktBvaI/AAAAAAAAAAU/jTmJGELfXus/s1600/holocaust+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 314px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476378290606423458" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aTEm729D_Z8/TAABCktBvaI/AAAAAAAAAAU/jTmJGELfXus/s320/holocaust+3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;aust did happen and is just as bad as everyone has been telling me. All of the innocent children and adults did die when it was not their time to go. All of the Jews were exploited and looked down on. All of the families did get torn apart and separated from all of their friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;History repeats itself. Every t&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;ime this phrase comes up, I hope and pray that The Holocaust would not repeat itself. Everyday we live with the chance of this tragedy happening again. I hope that the leaders of other countries will see the mistake in what happened and will realize that never again should such an event take place. Never again innocent lives should be taken. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I think about the Holocaust, is basically shown in the picture above. In this photo, it shows mounds of dead bodies, starving people, and dead (sometimes alive) bodies going into the crematoria to be burned. This picture has different images showing all parts of this abhorrent time. Photos are a way to portray what the past weather good or bad. And in this case it was extremely bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Elie Wiesel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The author of Night, Elie Wiesel, had a first hand encounter with many hardships. For one, he was a victim of The Holocaust. Elle was only a young boy when he and his family got taken away from their home to be taken to a concentration camp. He is th&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aTEm729D_Z8/S__H_x2VJcI/AAAAAAAAAAM/szCY-vOlgH4/s1600/holocaust+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;en separated from his mother and sister forever, but luckily, he and his father remain together. Elle describes this time as "an unimaginable nightmare." From there, they are sent to many different camps where they are forced to work with barely any food or water and even occasionally received beatings from the authorities. To endure this sort of torture and to be able to live through it shows a massive amount of strength for a young boy. In my eyes, Elle and the others that survived this horrible time are some of the strongest people around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Darkness &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Throughout the entire novel, you can sense darkness. You can feel the cruelty radiating from th&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aTEm729D_Z8/TAZecVPHQ4I/AAAAAAAAAAc/nfjtCCcQChA/s1600/halocaust.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 186px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478169837572670338" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aTEm729D_Z8/TAZecVPHQ4I/AAAAAAAAAAc/nfjtCCcQChA/s320/halocaust.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;e book's pages as you read about the poor beings who used to call themselves human. Night was appropriately named because to the people that suffered through this event, were in what felt as continual darkness and night. &lt;strong&gt;"The night was growing longer, never ending" &lt;/strong&gt;Wiesel said in his book. The darkness was cruel and heartless leaving all the prisoners feeling hopeless, lost, and soul less. From all of the tortuous and heinous acts, the captives remained deeply scared for life. I will never be able to imagine what these people went through. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Courage- Taking Responsibility As We Make Choices&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I think that through this entire novel, courage is being shown from the Jews who went through this prison. They lived every single day as best as they could and some of them even survived. It shows a tremendous amount of courage for them. However, I also think that the Nazi's were not showing courage. They were killing innocent people because someone told them to or else they would perish right along with the Jews. If only a small group of people had stood up to the bully's, threats, and violence and had shown some courage, then perhaps today instead of writing about the tragic Holocaust, I would be writing about the strong people who realized that their leader was wrong and millions of lived would have been saved. But in reality, I am writing about the lost lives and friendships, the beaten and dead humans, and the lack of courage. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5974335160278103212-2209140807023744734?l=writedances.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/feeds/2209140807023744734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2010/05/term-holocaust.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/2209140807023744734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/2209140807023744734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2010/05/term-holocaust.html' title='The Never Ending Night'/><author><name>Sara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SnFVqKpLdGs/TsWYS4YDIoI/AAAAAAAAACQ/55eh_Y4ZsP8/s220/IMG_1767.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aTEm729D_Z8/TAABCktBvaI/AAAAAAAAAAU/jTmJGELfXus/s72-c/holocaust+3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5974335160278103212.post-273168756405516956</id><published>2010-05-17T10:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T10:41:39.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Book Review for Just Listen</title><content type='html'>Just Listen is a compelling book by Sarah &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Dessen&lt;/span&gt;. It is about a young girl who after a tragic split with her best friend lost all of her social standing and her courage to speak out. As if dealing with school and friends wasn't enough, Anabelle had to put up with her sister's eating disorder which threatened to tear her whole family apart. But whenever Anabelle met the always truthful Owen, he began to teach her how to find the courage to tell what really happened the night that tore a friendship apart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5974335160278103212-273168756405516956?l=writedances.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/feeds/273168756405516956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2010/05/book-review-for-just-listen.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/273168756405516956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/273168756405516956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2010/05/book-review-for-just-listen.html' title='Book Review for Just Listen'/><author><name>Sara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SnFVqKpLdGs/TsWYS4YDIoI/AAAAAAAAACQ/55eh_Y4ZsP8/s220/IMG_1767.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5974335160278103212.post-6745588951204548698</id><published>2010-05-04T06:21:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T10:35:01.239-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Living in the 1920's</title><content type='html'>I would not like to have lived in the 1920's. I enjoy all of the modern touches in my everyday life and I would &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; feel the sting if they ever got taken away from me. However, it would be nice to go back for a few days just to see all the ways it got it's name as the "&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Roarin&lt;/span&gt;' 20's". To be able to listen to all of the jazz music, to see all of the different hair styles and fashion choices, to witness the flappers dancing, and to just get an over all everyday feel of how their lives used to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5974335160278103212-6745588951204548698?l=writedances.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/feeds/6745588951204548698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2010/05/living-in-1920s.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/6745588951204548698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/6745588951204548698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2010/05/living-in-1920s.html' title='Living in the 1920&apos;s'/><author><name>Sara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SnFVqKpLdGs/TsWYS4YDIoI/AAAAAAAAACQ/55eh_Y4ZsP8/s220/IMG_1767.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5974335160278103212.post-793971081179569064</id><published>2010-05-04T06:21:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T10:21:16.448-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Prom Night</title><content type='html'>Prom night, for me, did not consist of fancy dresses, manicures, or false eye lashes. My night was spent helping a friend move him and his family to a wonderful new house. :) With us being such good friends, the whole night was spent telling jokes and laughing. At first, I was a little sad about not going to prom, however once we all got to working and having a good time, I'm sure that I couldn't have had a better night.  One of the biggest events of the night was when we had to go go pick up my boyfriend's brother from his house. Since all of the other cars were still waiting to be unpacked and the moving van was completely empty except for one chair in the very back corner, we were forced to take the van. When we were about to shut the back of the van, I got a wonderful idea. We would ride in the back of the moving van! So we piled in the chair and the whole ride was spend sliding from side to side while sitting on a very comfortable chair in the back of the van. It was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; a trip to remember.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5974335160278103212-793971081179569064?l=writedances.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/feeds/793971081179569064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2010/05/prom-night.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/793971081179569064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/793971081179569064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2010/05/prom-night.html' title='Prom Night'/><author><name>Sara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SnFVqKpLdGs/TsWYS4YDIoI/AAAAAAAAACQ/55eh_Y4ZsP8/s220/IMG_1767.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5974335160278103212.post-5459511210163750297</id><published>2010-05-04T06:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-04T06:58:54.917-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gold</title><content type='html'>Finding gold in the colors of spring, at first, seemed like a huge challenge because whenever I think about spring I think about greens, pinks, purples, and a variety of different colors. However, the search turned out to be a very rewarding experience. While on this great search I was able to admire all of the beautiful scenery around me. In the busy events of everyday life, it's easy for one to forget and just rush by the gorgeous landscaping around us.&lt;br /&gt;One morning while in English class, Mrs. Gilmore allowed me and Madeline go outside and have a super quick last look for something gold. And.. We found some! A cute little gold flower. At last all of our searching and looking had finally come to an end and Mrs. Gilmore had &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;received&lt;/span&gt; her very first flower of the year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5974335160278103212-5459511210163750297?l=writedances.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/feeds/5459511210163750297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2010/05/gold.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/5459511210163750297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/5459511210163750297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2010/05/gold.html' title='Gold'/><author><name>Sara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SnFVqKpLdGs/TsWYS4YDIoI/AAAAAAAAACQ/55eh_Y4ZsP8/s220/IMG_1767.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5974335160278103212.post-7578805680970070501</id><published>2010-03-17T06:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T07:02:36.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>St. Patty's Day- What does it mean to me.</title><content type='html'>St. Patrick's Day for me means that spring is on it's way! With green being such a dominant color for this day, it makes me very excited for all of the green trees and the flowers that will soon be all around us. A few St. Patrick's day memories would be in elementary school, I went to school all dressed in green to find out our teacher had a whole day of St. Patty's Day fun filled for us. We had scavenger hunts, great coloring sheets, and tons of green colored food. Another memory would be a few years ago, me and my sister went and bought everything green we could find. Green hair spray, shirts, necklaces, fake tattoos, and green face paint. When we went home, we got everything ready for what was to be the best St. Patrick's Day ever. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5974335160278103212-7578805680970070501?l=writedances.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/feeds/7578805680970070501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2010/03/st-pattys-day-what-does-it-mean-to-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/7578805680970070501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/7578805680970070501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2010/03/st-pattys-day-what-does-it-mean-to-me.html' title='St. Patty&apos;s Day- What does it mean to me.'/><author><name>Sara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SnFVqKpLdGs/TsWYS4YDIoI/AAAAAAAAACQ/55eh_Y4ZsP8/s220/IMG_1767.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5974335160278103212.post-7523208910362167207</id><published>2010-03-15T06:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T06:59:24.734-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Her Fearful Symmetry</title><content type='html'>Julia and Valentina Poole are just semi normal 20 year old &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Americans&lt;/span&gt;. One morning after breakfast, the twins, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;receive&lt;/span&gt; a letter inviting them to live in their dead aunts flat in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;London&lt;/span&gt;. Finally having the excuse to get free, they take the invitation and head to London. The girls meet a lot of their neighbors and had a good time learning to do things on their own. Julia and Valentina have a good time at first just touring the city and living their life on there own but they noticed something was &lt;span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ffff00"&gt;going on&lt;/span&gt;. After only a little while of staying in London, the girls realize that they weren't alone in the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;apartment&lt;/span&gt;. There aunt is still living in the flat as a ghost. This  great book is filled with haunting and compelling stories of love, guilt, and a serious case of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;OCD&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5974335160278103212-7523208910362167207?l=writedances.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/feeds/7523208910362167207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2010/03/her-fearful-symmetry.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/7523208910362167207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/7523208910362167207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2010/03/her-fearful-symmetry.html' title='Her Fearful Symmetry'/><author><name>Sara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SnFVqKpLdGs/TsWYS4YDIoI/AAAAAAAAACQ/55eh_Y4ZsP8/s220/IMG_1767.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5974335160278103212.post-4313605022714364350</id><published>2010-03-15T06:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T06:38:26.357-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Olympic Size Commitment..</title><content type='html'>To commit, by definition, means to bind or obligate as by &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;pledge&lt;/span&gt; or assurance. To make that big of a commitment would mean that you would give up everything just for that goal. The one thing that I would make such a commitment to would be my family. Families are always there for you and love you no matter what silly mistake you make. They see you through the good, the bad, and the worse. Never do they stop loving you. An example of a commitment in my family would be my grandma and grandpa. They knew they were in love since they were teenagers and were married for 46 years until my grandpa passed away from cancer. My grandma never thought for a second to stop caring for him even though it was really hard on her. She was so committed to him that she would do whatever it took to get him better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5974335160278103212-4313605022714364350?l=writedances.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/feeds/4313605022714364350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2010/03/olympic-size-commitment.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/4313605022714364350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/4313605022714364350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2010/03/olympic-size-commitment.html' title='Olympic Size Commitment..'/><author><name>Sara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SnFVqKpLdGs/TsWYS4YDIoI/AAAAAAAAACQ/55eh_Y4ZsP8/s220/IMG_1767.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5974335160278103212.post-5677624335561657724</id><published>2010-03-15T06:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T06:25:03.179-07:00</updated><title type='text'>book review for silas marner</title><content type='html'>Silas &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Marner&lt;/span&gt;, by George Eliot, is a book about Silas, a small town weaver, and his trip to being happy once more. In his old town, he was betrayed by his best friend who framed him for a murder and stole his girlfriend. After these tragic events, he was forced to move out of town.&lt;br /&gt;  There were &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt; of things that happened once he was in his new city. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Marner&lt;/span&gt; loved his gold. after being betrayed by his friends, it was the only thing he felt like he could rely on. When he got his gold stolen from him, he felt like he had nothing left. Until one day he came home to find a baby girl sitting in front of his fire. Realizing that she was orphaned, Silas took her in and cared for her. Caring for the child, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Eppie&lt;/span&gt;, Silas gained a new sense of hope, learned how to be alive again, and also found his gold in his back yard.&lt;br /&gt;  This was a very good book. The story was really interesting and always kept me wanting to slip away to read it some more. I would recommend this book to anyone who was looking for a great book to read.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5974335160278103212-5677624335561657724?l=writedances.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/feeds/5677624335561657724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2010/03/book-review-for-silas-marner.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/5677624335561657724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/5677624335561657724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2010/03/book-review-for-silas-marner.html' title='book review for silas marner'/><author><name>Sara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SnFVqKpLdGs/TsWYS4YDIoI/AAAAAAAAACQ/55eh_Y4ZsP8/s220/IMG_1767.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5974335160278103212.post-3880624608784777265</id><published>2010-02-08T19:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T06:40:11.059-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Days</title><content type='html'>While most kids on snow days go outside and build snow men and make snow angels, I take a totally different approach. My day consists of staying in my warm house, reading books, spending time with family, drinking hot chocolate, and watching way too much &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;TV&lt;/span&gt;. Snow days are the best for catching up on reading. On the last snow day we had out of school, I finished 2 books and started on another. They are also good for enjoying the natural beauty of the world from the inside of your house. The beautiful picture that is painted outside your window is like the &lt;a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/essex/content/images/2008/04/08/snow_norsey_woods_470_470x352.jpg"&gt;snow&lt;/a&gt; is a blanket that is covering the earth while it sleeps. Snow days are also good for spending time with family. While so many hectic things are going on in our lives, it easy for one to forget the love of one's family. But snow days create the perfect &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;opportunities&lt;/span&gt; for a family to spend some time together and reconnect.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5974335160278103212-3880624608784777265?l=writedances.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/feeds/3880624608784777265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2010/02/snow-days.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/3880624608784777265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/3880624608784777265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2010/02/snow-days.html' title='Snow Days'/><author><name>Sara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SnFVqKpLdGs/TsWYS4YDIoI/AAAAAAAAACQ/55eh_Y4ZsP8/s220/IMG_1767.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5974335160278103212.post-2152755856644233474</id><published>2010-02-03T14:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T15:56:41.077-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Civil Wars</title><content type='html'>By definition, a civil war is a state of hostility or conflict between elements within an organization. A civil war can happen amongst a country, between co-workers, or even within a family or group of friends.  One example of a civil war is the epic wars between siblings for their parents attention. Many children feel as if the other sibling is the favorite of the parents or loved more by the entire family, not knowing what else to do, the child attempts to out-shine there sibling thus creating a civil war within the family. Another example would be the Civil War that was in America during 1861-1865. USA was divided down the middle into The Union, north, and The Confederacy, south. This war brought family and friends to fight each other in battle and caused many deaths and casualties. Causes of this war were differences in beliefs about slavery, alcohol, Abraham Lincoln, and the effects that the war had on the country were &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;astronomical&lt;/span&gt;. Civil wars are horrible things and should be avoided at all costs, but some are inevitable and unpreventable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5974335160278103212-2152755856644233474?l=writedances.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/feeds/2152755856644233474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2010/02/civil-wars.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/2152755856644233474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/2152755856644233474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2010/02/civil-wars.html' title='Civil Wars'/><author><name>Sara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SnFVqKpLdGs/TsWYS4YDIoI/AAAAAAAAACQ/55eh_Y4ZsP8/s220/IMG_1767.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5974335160278103212.post-6503280543261806376</id><published>2009-12-01T06:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T07:26:02.071-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bullying</title><content type='html'>Bullying is a widespread problem, not only in schools, but also in homes and workplaces. Physical bullying, verbal bullying, sexual harrassment, and cyber bullying are just a few of the many ways one can bully another. For kids, bullying can be just another way to fit in. However, that might not always be the case. Low self-esteem, feeling powerless, and a way to be rid of anger are some of the reasons. Bullying can be stopped by help from parents, co-workers, and principles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5974335160278103212-6503280543261806376?l=writedances.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/feeds/6503280543261806376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2009/12/bullying.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/6503280543261806376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/6503280543261806376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2009/12/bullying.html' title='Bullying'/><author><name>Sara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SnFVqKpLdGs/TsWYS4YDIoI/AAAAAAAAACQ/55eh_Y4ZsP8/s220/IMG_1767.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5974335160278103212.post-5645983992095054741</id><published>2009-11-24T07:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T07:12:39.997-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 10 things I am thankful for</title><content type='html'>&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;family&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;friends&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;health&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;home&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;new room&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;car&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;book shelf&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;computer&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;megan and daniel&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;sunshine&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/5974335160278103212-5645983992095054741?l=writedances.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/feeds/5645983992095054741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2009/11/top-10-things-i-am-thankful-for.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/5645983992095054741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/5645983992095054741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2009/11/top-10-things-i-am-thankful-for.html' title='Top 10 things I am thankful for'/><author><name>Sara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SnFVqKpLdGs/TsWYS4YDIoI/AAAAAAAAACQ/55eh_Y4ZsP8/s220/IMG_1767.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5974335160278103212.post-4145410446101574583</id><published>2009-11-16T07:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T06:48:26.382-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Book review for Speak</title><content type='html'>Speak, a book by Laurie Halse Anderson, is about a teenage girl who suffers through many things, including rape. Melinda was only 15 when she went to a party, and after too many beers, she finds herself being overcome by The Monster. This book tells about how Melinda is silently screaming for someone, anyone, to listen to her cry for help.&lt;br /&gt;Melinda recieved help from all of the people around her. It would be hard for someone to find themselves again after such a tragic thing such as rape had happened to them. Melinda needed help from everyone in her life to get things right again.&lt;br /&gt;There is also good symbolism in the book Speak. All through out the book, Melinda is trying to draw the perfect tree but is unable to because she hasn't healed yet. The tree represents her growing as a person, and while she is still broken from The Monster, she is unable to draw one. However, when she finally gets her heart put back together, she draws her tree as a perfect portayal of her life&lt;br /&gt;Melinda, alhtough damaged and torn, put her life back together. This is a book about hope and finding yourself. I would reccomend this book for others to read. =]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5974335160278103212-4145410446101574583?l=writedances.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/feeds/4145410446101574583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2009/11/book-review-for-speak.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/4145410446101574583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/4145410446101574583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2009/11/book-review-for-speak.html' title='Book review for Speak'/><author><name>Sara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SnFVqKpLdGs/TsWYS4YDIoI/AAAAAAAAACQ/55eh_Y4ZsP8/s220/IMG_1767.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5974335160278103212.post-6039346585080404067</id><published>2009-09-10T06:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T07:08:48.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>His Tragic Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This morning has been hectic. To begin with, my alarm didn't go off in time, my jeans were in the washer and I am out of contacts. I rushed around all morning trying to get ready for school and get my uniform ready for work right after school, but those also were in the washer. As soon as I woke up, i ran to the washer grabbed my things out of it and stuffed them in the dyer, and continued to get ready for my day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Throughout my morning there were a series of misfortunes. For example, I stubbed my toes, ran into a door, burnt my forehead while trying to straighten my hair, spilt juice on my shirt, and... RAN OVER A SQUIRRELL. Such a cute little guy too. It was my second trip down my road already this morning for I had forgotten a few things and was forced to go back from fear of what my teachers would do to me if i left some homework at home. So, like I said, this was my second time on that road and was fed up with the morning and I might have been going a little too fast.. Okay maybe a lot too fast and.. I hit him. The poor, adorable, fury, little squirrelk was dead before I even realized what I had done. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5974335160278103212-6039346585080404067?l=writedances.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/feeds/6039346585080404067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2009/09/his-tragic-story.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/6039346585080404067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5974335160278103212/posts/default/6039346585080404067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writedances.blogspot.com/2009/09/his-tragic-story.html' title='His Tragic Story'/><author><name>Sara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SnFVqKpLdGs/TsWYS4YDIoI/AAAAAAAAACQ/55eh_Y4ZsP8/s220/IMG_1767.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
