Kristine Nichols

Clint Eastwood plays the role of Walt Kowalski who pounds down Pabst after Pabst and spends time with his golden retriever who never leaves his side. Walt is an old man who has just lost his wife, once fought in the Vietnam War, and extremely racist against the Asians. The ironic part is that he lives in a neighborhood full of Asians in the middle of the ghetto. Next door, where the only other white family used to live, a Homg family moves in and Walt is not happy. The family consists of a grandmother (Chee Thao), Son Thao (Bee Vang), Daughter Sue (Ahney Her), and their mother. Most Hmong boys are known to end up being in a gang instead of going to school. Walt is tired of the constant Asians and gang members in his neighborhood, and so is his family. They urge him to move to a different neighborhood, but Walt is far too stubborn to move just because a gunshot might come through his window. Walt has his ups and downs with the Hmongs next door, but by the middle of the movie he begins to see the lighter side of this family.

Through all the tearjerkers and laughs the movie shows a true bond of friendship. We begin with a cold shoulder from Walt, and begin to see him warm up after about half of the movie. Even though the part of Walt was not made for Clint Eastwood, he fits in perfectly. The racist remarks that come of his mouth first seems like such a shock, that you tend to let out a little chuckle, than feel that ounce of guilt a few minutes later. You soon realize that we all make rude statements about others that we laugh at and don’t really see anything wrong. For instance when he needs someone to watch his dog while he goes to do something, he puts the golden retriever on the Hmong’s porch with he grandma and asks her not to eat or cook him. This is a common thing you hear being joked about with Asians that you don’t realize how bad it actually is.

I have to admit the beginning dragged a little and lost me for a bit. It seemed to take forever to get into the actual story, since they had to explain so much so there was no confusion. The plot was very well thought out and carries a true story and meaning. Showing how even someone who has been trained to hate a certain race, can become more understanding and changer their views. Sue and Thao become more of a family to Walt then his own sons and their families.

If you have seen Crash and loved it, you will most likely enjoy this movie. It shoes how others can judge just by skin color, yet once they are in each others shoes they start to understand the depth of the person. You learn to not judge a book by its cover and to have an open mind. Everyone is more complex than what meets the eye, and there is no one out there that is completely the same as someone else. We are all individuals and this movie shows you how different you can be from the norm.

The phone ring as you rub your eyes and squint over at your alarm clock. It’s three in the morning, so you rub your eyes one more time to make sure that your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you. No, it definitely is three in the morning. The phone rings again, and you flop your hand on top of the vibrating cell. You sputter out a dry, “Hello.” “Mom… It’s me Justin.” With confusion you reply, “Justin sweetie what wrong?” Then your jaw drops, and your loving child explained that he is using his one phone call form jail. The party he was at had gotten a little out of control and was broken up by the cops. Now imagine that this never happened because at the age of 18 your child he or she was legally able to drink. Your child would have no criminal record and you wouldn’t have to receive a call at three in the morning.

Binge drinking has become a huge problem in the United States, and is only getting worse. The new trend is to go out and get trashed and make a mistake that may seem funny, but could ruin the rest of their life. These mistakes start to turn into life threatening ordeals, and if you are in the wrong place at the wrong time, who knows what can happen? Teenagers are going to drink whether you tell them they can’t or not. By restricting them until the age of 21, it only leads them to resort to more serious offense: such as buying a fake ID or stealing alcohol. Wey Ruepten, Duke University senior official, said, “If you treat students like children, they’re going to act like children,” and commented about the 21 year drinking age saying that it, “pushes drinking into hiding, heightening its risks.” Ruepten is one of the 100 College presidents and official who have taken a public stance for lowering the drinking age back to 18 (abc.com). Ruepten is explaining how states through out the US are treating 18+ citizens as children, when they are in actual reality, legal adults. How is it fair that men and women who are 18 years old, can go and risk their life in war fighting for their country, but they can’t sip on a Bud Light while watching the sports highlights, or re-runs of Sex in the City? When you turn 18 you are now responsible for yourself and have to make adult decisions. Why is it that you still have a restriction until your 21 yet you can go live on your own and pay rent? 

In 2005 there was a reported 97,000 students of the ages 18-24, who were victims of alcohol-related sexual assault or date rape in United States colleges. Also in 2005 there was 599,000 college students between the ages of 18-24 with injuries that were under the influence of alcohol, 1,700 college students of ages 18-24 deaths, 400,000 college student cases of unsafe sex of ages 18-24, and 25% of all college students between 18 and 24 reported with academic problems relating to too much drinking (College Drinking). It is safe to say that these stats are at a ridiculous high, and something needs to be done as soon as possible. We are treating these college students as children, causing a reaction to fight fire with fire and become the child that they are perceived to be. If adults who were ages 18-20 were able to buy their own alcohol, they would feel more grown up and take a bigger responsibility. The excitement of binge drinking would go down; therefore there would be less rapes, deaths, unsafe sex, and academic problems.

In 1982 the drinking age was 18. Since the drinking age has been raised to 21, there has definitely been a decrease in alcohol related deaths. In 1982 there was a total of 43,925 fatalities and 26,173 or those deaths were alcohol related. This is 60% of the all deaths that year were alcohol related. In 2007 there was 41,059 fatalities and 15,387 of these were alcohol related. This is only 37 percent of the total deaths (Drunk Driving Stats). On the surface this seems like it should be enough for us to never think about lowering the drinking age again. Think again, because we are going to get our hands a little dirty and dig into some of the other surrounding facts that could be contributing to this.

In 1982 the car safety ratings were around 1.32-3.51 (Four Wheel). Mostly all cars were under a rating of 3. Now in 2009 the ratings are from 3-5 (automotive.com). It is very rare to have a car safety rating under a 3.5. So the question is it really the higher drinking age or the improved safety ratings of cars? I am not someone who believes in drunken driving, whatsoever, but times have changed and everything is safer these days.

We cannot stop teenagers from drinking by making a law that tells them they aren’t allowed too till they are 21. As long as they don’t get caught, they think everything is fine. We have laws that tell people not to speed, yet there are millions of people who get speeding tickets every year. Laws are there to keep people safe and in line, but the fact of the matter is, that no one really follows them. By lowering the drinking age back down to 18 there will be less MIP’s and I believe that kids will not find the thrill of drinking as much. We all can help the drinking age be lowered back down to age 18. If enough people all over the country stand together and support those who are in the political force field, who believe in lower the drinking age. Anything is possible with determination, and I honestly can say I am determined to make things right. If we all stand against this unjustness we can make a change, no matter the obstacles, we are the people of America where there is a democracy, we should have a say on whether legal adults should be able to buy a bottle of wine.

• “2007 Car Safety Ratings.”Motor Trend. 5 May 2009 <www.motortrend.com/used_cars/04/2007/safety/index.html>.
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  “CDC – Motor Vehicle Safety.”Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. 20 Jan. 2009. 5 May 2009 <http://www.cdc.gov/Motorvehiclesafety/index.html>.
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  “Car Safety.” Automotive.com. 5 May 2009 <http://www.automotive.com/new-cars/safety/index.html>.
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  “College Drinking: A Snapshot of Annual High-Risk College Drinking Consequences.”Research about Alcohol and College Drinking Prevention. 11 July 2007. 5 May 2009 <http://www.collegedrinkingprevention.gov/StatsSummaries/snapshot.aspx>.
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  “College presidents seek debate on drinking age – 8/19/08 – New York News and Tri-State News – 7online.com.”ABC Owned Television Stations. 19 Aug. 2008. 5 May 2009 <http://abclocal.go.com/wabc/story?section=news/national_world&id=6336954>
• “Drunk driving statistics.”Alcohol Alert talking breathalyzer helps prevent drunk driving.. 5 May 2009 <http://www.alcoholalert.com/drunk-driving-statistics.html>.

1-2: Dusk starts to hit as the sky and clouds cover the reddened typical midwestern sunset.

2-5: The stadium fills with crazed rocker fans chanting “PINK FLOYD,” ready to head bang through rain or shine.

6-12: With three hours of antisipation, the thousands of hard core fans decked out in faded blue jeans and tie-dyed shirts make a rock show of their own.

13-19: The newbies swarm in with their lacoste polos and seven jeans, wandering around like deers in headlights.

20-24: Gangley outcasts wobble around barely opening their eyes, as if they just smoked a blunt full of the reefer. 

25-27: Love birds with their hands glued to each others exemplifying the truest of PDA.

28-35: I feel the sharp stare of cocky police gangs as they swat their billyclubs in the air.

36-40: The homeless man of rock, also known as a hawker, yells “T-shirts pennants, come get your T-shirts,” as everyone laughs in their direction.

41-46: The flush of out casts and 5-0 walk in focusing. as they reach the pearly gates to the auditorium. 

47-54: Dedicated fans dripping of sweat and exhaustion get a jolt from the gates opening and begin to flood in the coliseum for the last hour of waiting.

Lowering the drinking age would decrease hospitalization, increase tax revenue, and lower prison admissions.

We all have told a white like or two in our days. If you are too honest, you look like a cruel person, and if you don’t tell enough of the truth, you look like a fake. There is a fine line between what is real and what is not. For example, if your boyfriend asks you if he is masculine even though he just painted your right hand nails for you. You can either say a) “Baby you are the manliest man I know!” Or b) “Sweetie, you act like one of the girls…” We sometimes powder the truth with a pleasant topping. Is this right or wrong?

            Since I am a girl I have heard every since excuse in the book for physical appearance. One time while getting ready for a night out on the town with the girls, I kept changing my mind on my outfit and make up. I asked my friend Heather for her opinion and she gave me the typical, “Kristine you look good, it’s time to go!” I strongly disagreed, and asked Ashley for the brutal honest answer. She came up with, “You look like you died and have risen back to life…” Although I had asked for this, when I actually heard those bitter words, my skin and emotion become quite tender. Fabricated answers are now known as the truth because we tend to spare the hurt for others. This leads to only telling others the half-truth.

            Should we consider the half-truth the full truth for the sake of other’s feelings? By fabricating every answer, you are letting these people believe something for the rest of their lives that may not be the truth. Doesn’t the guilt build up that you are letting this person be happy on false pretences? Is there enough justification behind your action? You have to be right in between. No one truly knows the definition of the truth anymore. We all make up our own meanings with little tweaks here and there to help us feel better about not letting it all out. We are so obsessed with others liking us and not thinking badly of us, we lose ourselves in the reoccurring cycle of little white lies.

            On the other hand there are people who tell you absolutely what comes to their mind when they first see or are asked something. Verbal diarrhea has infected many people, and shown how it is possible to go overboard with the truth. When you purposily pick out flaws of someone or something and release your feelings with a nasty tone, you are only trying to be cruel and demeaning. The way to level out this harsh and overly sugared decision is to be able to tell what you are thinking with some consideration. Instead of saying “Those jeans make your butt look like its own planet!” Or “I love those jeans on you, they make your butt look very nice.” You could say, “I don’t think those jeans are very flattering to your body type, what about that skirt you bought last week?” By letting out your thoughts in a sensitive way, you aren’t sugarcoating or being far too harsh. My mother always told me that the truth sometimes hurts, but it is always better than living a lie.

            We all say we want to have friends or spouses who are 100 percent truthful. There is no such person who doesn’t lie. We all do it whether we think we are lying or not. You expect others to treat you the way you are treated, so when they lie to you how is that any different than when you only tell half the truth? You learn in math class that a half is not a full. How is it any different in this situation?

Only you can draw your line of truth and pick which side you want to reside on. People do this subconsciously, like it a self-defense technique. How do we bring this to our conscious state and realize when enough is enough? The truth is supposed to be the easiest way to deal with things, when in reality it is only the hardest thing to do. God didn’t build us with truth meters, so we have to decide for ourselves how to determine the exact amount. What will you choose?

The Typical Teenage girl

The blood started pulsing through my heart and veins. Every hair on my body was erect. Beads of sweat started slithering down my forehead, mixing with of tears. I knew I was over reacting, and acting hysterical, but the tears wouldn’t stop. They had a mind of their own, and weren’t planning on stopping anytime soon.

I became alert when the sound of booming size 12 Adidas prowled down the hallway. I counted to five Mississippi slowly, trying to pull myself together. There were three pounds against the hollow wooden door. With hesitation I was able to let out a small dry “yes,” even though I truly wanted to let yell ‘go away. I hate you. Leave!’ I gasped for air, suddenly forgetting how to use my lungs properly. My eyes filled with apprehension as his flushed face approached me. I clenched my teeth, held my knees to my chest with my arms and swayed front to back. This is one of those moments where adults always tell you to go to your happy place. Somewhere with unicorns, candy, and fairies.

            I peered up with my saturated eyes. I could see his face, fiercely stern and his jaw locked, every chiseled bone. As his eyes squinted in disappointment, I prepared myself for the battle of wounding words. As every verbal bullet pierced my quaking body, I flinched with despair. Once he was out of ammo, I tried to plead my case. Trying to flip my voice box switch upward, I stuttered with a shaky ‘because… I don’t know why I did it Dick, I just had the sudden urge to check your myspace messages.”  I tried to apologize. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have. It ‘s all my fault.” He shook his head as my father used to when I was being punished. A mixture of confusion and regret rolled over my face. I knew exactly what was going through his head. The thoughts were seeping out of his pores.  He shot one last verbal bullet and departed. A few seconds later I heard his cream Camry purr to life than sputter out of the driveway.

            I grasped my wooden dresser with my lifeless hand, trying to lift my paralyzed body up from the rugged carpet. My body was an anchor holding down my pride; not even the most vicious sea current would pull me away. I quickly re-evaluated my plan and placed my head onto scratchy ground. This lashing battle had been one of many. Any sane girl would be laughing right now. I wondered why I was not immune to the bullets and pain by now? I shook my head, pretending to shake the thoughts out my over packed mind. I began to think logically, realizing the holes in his argument. Why was he mad that I had caught him cheating? Why was I taking the beating for it? Why wasn’t I the one dramatically storming off? This couldn’t be love; I have seen every single sappy love movie since I was a young girl. Juliet never needed a bulletproof vest to protect against Romeo’s words. I had turned into the typical “teenage girl.”  I remember reading ‘He is just not that into you,” and laughing. Even though the book couldn’t talk back I would always spit out phrases like ‘Ha, sweetie he doesn’t care for you, you’re an idiot’ or ‘Hey retard, move on, it’s not worth it.’ Without my noticing, I was vertical and glided toward my window shaded by the golden curtains. A jolt of confidence pulsed through my body.

            Ringing filled the air as I reached in my pocket for the cheap silver flip phone. The corners of my mouth crept toward my cheeks with an evil sensation. He let out a harsh, “hello!” I felt the bulletproof vest appear for the first time, and with confidence I spoke “Hello sweetie, I would like to remind you that I was not the one caught cheating. Even though I shouldn’t have taken away your privacy, that doesn’t give you the right to spout off irrationally. I have had enough of these battles; there are too many wounds that haven’t healed. You no longer are boyfriend material, and I would appreciate it if you would leave me alone. Thank you. Take care.” I closed the phone, and felt the corners of my mouth start to rise once again as I threw the battery to the phone on the ground. Was this really the end? This wasn’t like the movies; I didn’t feel sick to my stomach or have the need to kill myself. I felt happy and strong, like nothing could come in the way.

I jumped up and walked over to my old brown dresser, opened the top left drawer and pulled out my favorite gray running shorts. Without hesitation I slipped them on to my prickly legs. I moved quickly to my closet and picked the tattered green high school volleyball shirt, pulled it over my head, and fastened myself into my plain running sneakers. I was always told that running can help release unwanted energy, and I figured this was the perfect situation to become one with the ground. I glided through the door and down the hallway that once seemed cursed. I swiftly snatched my iPod off the rectangular coffee table, placing the earphones in each ear, and off I went. Each stride felt more powerful than the last as I made my way through the driveway and down the street. Focusing on the heartbeat of my feet to the pavement, as all my negative thoughts replaced with those of rational thinking, I had created my own movie, ending, and plot. I now believe in healthy relationships, and breaking old habits.

I learned the definition of the word happy when I was probably 2 years old. Happy seems like such a simple word, but there is so much more to it. To be truly happy takes a lot of work and effort. To be happy you have to be happy with your life, yourself, and your surroundings. You have to enjoy what you do for a living, who you hang out with, who your spouse is, and how event happen in your life. When you are younger it is so simple to be happy. If you fall down and scrape your knee there is always a grown up giving you and ice cream for not crying, and for some reason it always made it better. As you grow up your problems become much more than a scrape on you knee. You whole life could change if you don’t do something right. You start to learn what true stress is, and how it can take a toll on your life. Once you find happiness you will know, because you will feel as if nothing can bring you down. You will be able to turn every negative into a positive, and you will always want to have a smile on your face whether or not its appropriate. In order to achieve this you have to remember that things could be so much worse. You have to realize how special you are and what you truly deserve. You have to let go of what is bringing you down, and go find something that will only lift you up. Most of the drama that circles our life is not needed and could easily be avoided, so don’t sweat the small things and push forward for you happiness.

Im guessing that the hook is where he mentions his grandmother, and how she is actually dead. she seems to have used story telling as a way to get through anything. He explains how if his grandmother were alive she would be telling those same stories she has for years around the dinner table. i honestly think this story is very boring and didnt hold my interest at all. all he talks about is certain that he falls in love with through the stories. there was “Marie Haggerty, a Massachusetts housemaid who talked about how, when her employer left a $5 bill on the floor” and than ”Irving Fajins, who while trying to organize his fellow workers at Macy’s hit upon the idea of secretly distributing the union literature via the toilet-paper dispensers.” he explains how the stories were started and have been around for years. he ties it all up by saying how we are in an economic crisis again and story telling is what we need. that this is the help we need. and our president is helping change the future.

1) as my nightly routine i channel surfed for a few minutes, when KING 5 came to view. With urgency the anchor man explained that hurricane ogla had appeared, the water was viciously pounced from house to house creating a raucous through seattle. my eyes filled with enjoyment as the bullets of water shot through every thing in sight. i felt as if i was in the huge theater of the newest action movie, without having to pay the 10 dollars.

2) the tapping of pencils, and smacking of gum filled the air with annoyance, showing how unqualified the teach was of keeping the classes attention

3) the truck was full is excitement and anticipation of the huge elephants and frightening clowns. as we hit the main road the speed limit adjusted to 60 mph and before we knew it a mime was stuck in the middle of the road expressing his fear in silence of the roaring truck. i slammed on my breaks to hear the screeching metal and rubber coming to a halt. in an instant the mime was tangled underneath the truck still silent. we rushed out side and fell to our knees seeing if the mime was still alive. i observed the mime trying to push the car from on top of him as if he was trapped in a glass box; moving his hands up and down is a straight line.