lavender_pham
Nov 15, 2011
Scholarship / 'continuously standing up' - Compose "Page 87" autobiography [9]
Hello, I'm having difficulties writing the essay as I received two different comment upon it.
Prompt: Compose "Page 87" of your autobiography. In this essay, consider where your life story would be at this point.
My English teacher said the essay DID say a lot about me, a coordinator said she liked the essay because it was not too obvious. However, the lady at the career center said she did not see anything about me, I was being unrealistic, and although it was page 87, I was supposed to explain who were the people I mentioned in my essay. She wanted everything as clear as the sky.
Please read and give me some comment, regarding my bad grammar.
==========
However, I did not stomp on the gas pedal, although I really wanted to. I tapped my fingers on the wheel, counting impatiently. The November breeze was above fifty, but I decided to turn the heat to the highest temperature, hoping to calm myself down before the traffic light turned green.
Right after I got to exit 52 headed toward I-495, despite several car horns for my reckless driving and the risk of getting the first ticket ever on my clean driving record, I rushed the car to the carpool lane on the farthest left of the highway. I could not remember the exact speed I was driving, but I knew I was flying past cars. I did not bother to slow down though; my head was filled with excitement as I headed straight to Dulles Airport.
It was almost seven. My mom would not be at the airport anytime soon because she knew aunt Trang and her family would not land in Virginia for another three hours. I knew that too. But it was the day my dream finally come true, the day I had waited since junior high. I wouldn't have much patience to sit back and relax, have some dinner, and wait for the time flew by. It was just not my usual style to patiently wait for something to happen. My first fourteen years sharing the same roof with them was all I had. Now, after fifteen years long, it was the moment I could see them all day every day, and live with them until I aged and died.
I'd been preparing for that long as well: I studied, I learned, I worked, I saved money; and then I worked, and saved more money. Just in time, I could finally afford to make a down payment for a house of my own design, which was based on the idea of family as a big circle: wherever one goes, he or she would end up at the starting point, the origin of success - family. I loved to create, and create from things I love. But, until now, the house was a secret, even to my mom. The construction needed a few more months to complete; and I also needed to take them to IKEA to find out their favorite beds, lights, decorations and buy those in secret.
My phone rang and pulled me away from the stream of dreamy thoughts. It was my mom. She asked me if I would be home for dinner or go straight to the airport. I told her I was driving to Dulles, but I would stop by McDonald to get some McChicken and ice-cream, which usually cost no more than three dollars and enough for my growling stomach until 11 pm. She didn't seem to be satisfied; she demanded me to "buy something good to eat" before she hung up. To her, my age could not change the fact that I was still younger than her, which allowed her to never really treat me as a grown-up. But, I'd never acted as an adult in front of her anyway.
But I guess her concerns were understandable. In the past few days, I tried to finish all the marketing plans and important documents I needed to do; I also have the new spring collection ready before deadline. I was exhausted but that paid off later as it allowed me to call tomorrow and ask for a week off. I actually thought about having a month off instead of just a week, since it wouldn't give me enough time with my family. And if they fired me, I would go happily because I believed my trained fashion merchandising skills I learned at VCU could easily provide me a new job. I had savings and also relied on the profit from selling some of my paintings. VCUArt helped me so much to improve my drawing and painting skills. A lot people liked my arts and willing to pay big bucks for it. But, of course, all the babbling about quitting job was only a thought, not a reality. When I got excited, I could barely control my thoughts at the time; however, I knew my weaknesses and acknowledged what should and what should not to be done pretty quickly. So, I can avoid making emotional decision that would make me regret later, a bad habit I'd been trying to fix since high school.
Finally, I had arrived at the crowded airport. It didn't take me long to find the exact
Hello, I'm having difficulties writing the essay as I received two different comment upon it.
Prompt: Compose "Page 87" of your autobiography. In this essay, consider where your life story would be at this point.
My English teacher said the essay DID say a lot about me, a coordinator said she liked the essay because it was not too obvious. However, the lady at the career center said she did not see anything about me, I was being unrealistic, and although it was page 87, I was supposed to explain who were the people I mentioned in my essay. She wanted everything as clear as the sky.
Please read and give me some comment, regarding my bad grammar.
==========
However, I did not stomp on the gas pedal, although I really wanted to. I tapped my fingers on the wheel, counting impatiently. The November breeze was above fifty, but I decided to turn the heat to the highest temperature, hoping to calm myself down before the traffic light turned green.
Right after I got to exit 52 headed toward I-495, despite several car horns for my reckless driving and the risk of getting the first ticket ever on my clean driving record, I rushed the car to the carpool lane on the farthest left of the highway. I could not remember the exact speed I was driving, but I knew I was flying past cars. I did not bother to slow down though; my head was filled with excitement as I headed straight to Dulles Airport.
It was almost seven. My mom would not be at the airport anytime soon because she knew aunt Trang and her family would not land in Virginia for another three hours. I knew that too. But it was the day my dream finally come true, the day I had waited since junior high. I wouldn't have much patience to sit back and relax, have some dinner, and wait for the time flew by. It was just not my usual style to patiently wait for something to happen. My first fourteen years sharing the same roof with them was all I had. Now, after fifteen years long, it was the moment I could see them all day every day, and live with them until I aged and died.
I'd been preparing for that long as well: I studied, I learned, I worked, I saved money; and then I worked, and saved more money. Just in time, I could finally afford to make a down payment for a house of my own design, which was based on the idea of family as a big circle: wherever one goes, he or she would end up at the starting point, the origin of success - family. I loved to create, and create from things I love. But, until now, the house was a secret, even to my mom. The construction needed a few more months to complete; and I also needed to take them to IKEA to find out their favorite beds, lights, decorations and buy those in secret.
My phone rang and pulled me away from the stream of dreamy thoughts. It was my mom. She asked me if I would be home for dinner or go straight to the airport. I told her I was driving to Dulles, but I would stop by McDonald to get some McChicken and ice-cream, which usually cost no more than three dollars and enough for my growling stomach until 11 pm. She didn't seem to be satisfied; she demanded me to "buy something good to eat" before she hung up. To her, my age could not change the fact that I was still younger than her, which allowed her to never really treat me as a grown-up. But, I'd never acted as an adult in front of her anyway.
But I guess her concerns were understandable. In the past few days, I tried to finish all the marketing plans and important documents I needed to do; I also have the new spring collection ready before deadline. I was exhausted but that paid off later as it allowed me to call tomorrow and ask for a week off. I actually thought about having a month off instead of just a week, since it wouldn't give me enough time with my family. And if they fired me, I would go happily because I believed my trained fashion merchandising skills I learned at VCU could easily provide me a new job. I had savings and also relied on the profit from selling some of my paintings. VCUArt helped me so much to improve my drawing and painting skills. A lot people liked my arts and willing to pay big bucks for it. But, of course, all the babbling about quitting job was only a thought, not a reality. When I got excited, I could barely control my thoughts at the time; however, I knew my weaknesses and acknowledged what should and what should not to be done pretty quickly. So, I can avoid making emotional decision that would make me regret later, a bad habit I'd been trying to fix since high school.
Finally, I had arrived at the crowded airport. It didn't take me long to find the exact
