Post #18 2nd O-O Writing

No matter how far away you go, you’re always going to remember where you came from. That saying is no different to me. Even though I have spent many years away from my home and have traveled countless miles around the world and miles away from David City, there is always one object that can sweep my back to my bedroom in that rural Nebraska town with just one smell. That object is my big, pink blanket.

Now, I know that many children grow attached to blankets at small ages and it is customary that they need to become detached from that blanket by the time they enter middle school. I had that blanket and we separated paths in my childhood but it was not the same as my big, pink blanket. My big, pink blanket was more of a comforter than just a throw towel. It’s a very faded and dulled pink color that used to match the sheets of my childhood bed. The edges of the blanket are trimmed in a simple white lace that has threads dangling off of it is many different directions and little holes cut through it in patterns of four to look almost like flowers. If you were to look over it very carefully, you’d find a large darker stain on the corner of one of the blanket’s sides, this came from a spilled pop on a long vacation drive with not very many napkins to wipe it up.

Another very interesting fact about my big, pink blanket is that she has a twin. My older sister who left the house many years before me had kidnapped her blanket from my parents house as well. When we were younger and shared a room, we each had our own twin size bed with our twin sized blanket. After we abandoned the beds, we never could tear ourselves away from our precious blankets. One year, on our way to a family vacation skiing, my sister and I both brought our big, pink blankets to sleep with in the car. At one rest stop, we both threw our blankets onto the car’s floor and ran inside. When we came back, we got into a huge fight over who’s blanket was who’s and which one smelled like ours. Surprisingly, we each believed our big, pink blanket carried a very distinct smell that we wanted back. After that feud was settled we decided that we needed a way to be able to tell our blankets apart. Ever since that day, my big, pink blanket has gained the addition of a very small permanent marker dot on one of her corners.

Every night when I cuddle up to my blanket, I’m always reminded of my sister and her blanket, and the days we used to spend together in our little room. It’s almost like we each have one side of the locket that keeps us connected back to our roots.

Post #17 1st O-O Writing

As long as I can remember, I’ve always grown attached to certain objects. I give many odd materials special meaning and then they seem to almost become a part of me. The most important of these would probably be the piece of jewelry that many have coined as my “hoodie string.” Now, to say that this is object is a piece of jewelry is probably a far stretch because it looks the same as a shoe string, but to me it means so much more. The black lace entered my life about two years ago, when I started dating my present boyfriend. We were on a walk together on a brisk night and he started picking on me, playing around and tickling me. In my defense, I grabbed whatever I could to get him to stop and accidentally pulled the string out of the hood of his favorite hoodie all the way out. I froze and stood down at my hand, knowing how much he loved that sweatshirt and when I looked up at him he was smiling. “Way to go! You ruined it,” he said tauntingly. I smiled back and said, “It’s not ruined. It’s now a…bracelet!” From that day on, I’ve worn that string on my wrist like a religion. Now, two years later, it’s worn down, shorter from pieces breaking off, and dabbed with random dots of paint. It seems to be just another part of me until someone gives me a really weird look as they watch me tie it on my wrist. I had to learn an odd way to tie it on because there is no way that I’m going to ask for help to tie on this string everyday for two years. The knots tied onto the end are to help the string to prevent from fraying even further and to help it from untying as well. There was a chunk of time in those two years where I thought that I had lost my hoodie string for good. I was heartbroken and felt like I had almost let myself down. It’s always amazed me how attached I can get to something that seems so insignificant to others.

Post #16 Rhetorical response

The idea of good verses bad has always been a theme for many movies throughout time. But what about those movies where good and bad aren’t so black and white? America has started to learn that people aren’t always what they seem and you can’t judge a book by it’s cover. Now we have movies where the audience falls in love with the character who is supposed to be “bad” by definition of what they are doing. For example, The Outsiders, the book that Atreyu’s video is based off of, makes the audience take a view into the life of the rebel kids. We learn that the jocks that the city loves and believes are so good are actually bigger jerks than the greasers who the community views of hooligans. This whole theme calls to the readers pathos because we all have been misread at least once in our life. We all sympathaize with the idea of being mislabeled and not given a true chance to prove who we are. A person’s logos would be intrigued by the interesting way that the band used the story to tie into their song. It’s an obvious comparison and they tend to follow the plot pretty closely. The audience’s ethos are tended to be because of the interesting ideas they put into the movie. The camera angles add cool effects and the idea about the rain getting harder and harder as the conflict grows also draws the audience in. Not to mention it is a very well made video. Everyone wants to see the underdog win every once in a while. In this video, all of those needs are satisfied.