Camp Wiyaka

Every summer since I was ten years old one of my best friends, Maddie, and I would got to a sleep away camp together in New Hampshire for one week out of every summer. Every year I count down the days from the begging of school until the day that we leave for camp. My countdown is finally down to zero. Tomorrow morning we will be making the three hour-long car ride the Camp Wiyaka in New Hampshire. I’m trying to sleep because I don’t want to be exhausted for my first day of camp, but no matter how hard I try I just can’t. I’m up for most of the night looking through old camp photos and remembering all the amazing friends and memories I have made there. I am eventually able to fall asleep, but I wake up again to my mom yelling at me to get up and ready to go because were leaving in an hour. Usually I like to lounge around in bed for a little while after I wake up, but this is a completely different situation. I jump out of bed and sprint down the stairs. There is a bagel and cranberry juice waiting for me; I inhale it in about two minutes. I go back up stairs, take a shower, and add the last final things to my trunk. Then I double check to make sure I have everything. My trunk is packed completely full, and ways about a hundred pounds. My dad struggles to get it down the stairs and into the car. Finally were ready to go, I can barley keep my excitement in and keep squealing with joy. On the way we stop to pick up Maddie, who is just as excited as I am. The ride to camp is one of the most fun parts about going. We sing and go crazy and just act like total weirdo’s. It’s a blast! We get there right when they open the gates. We go sign in and get our t-shirts. Then we have to go to the nurse to get our heads checked for lice, which is my least favorite part. Finally we get to go and claim our bunks in our tent. We sprint up the hill to tent number eleven. We are the first ones there! We both get bottom bunks, which has never happened. At camp everybody wants the bottom bunk because they are a lot more comfortable, there is more space, and if your lucky they have a little shelf where you can put things like a clock. After claiming our bunks we go back down to our cars to get our trunks. Our parents always make us carry them up the hill by ourselves. I personally don’t see the point of this; it just makes the whole process move slower. After taking two trips up the hill with our trunks we are sweating profusely. We throw on our bathing suit and go down to the waterfront, our parent’s leave, and we get ready for an amazing week. By final campfire we have made so many new friends and would do anything not to have to. When we start to sing final song everybody starts crying, and there isn’t much singing going on. When it ends we say goodbye, and I cry for the majority of the car ride home. WORD COUNT: 564

Conclusion

Ambitious young musicians must always strive to develope a unique sound despite strong cultural influences.Some new musicions are simply trying to copy other successful artist. These musicians may be successful in the beginnig but what they have to relize is that the original is always better. They will be more sucessful if they are unique. If this trend of copying other musicians continue all the music will sound exactly alike and people will get eventually get boared.

skiing trip

In second grade my parents promised me that the winter before I go into middle school they would take me snowboarding. Finally, the Friday before February vacation in fifth grade, my parents surprised my younger brother and I with a ski vacation. They told us that we were going to Mount Sunapee for four day. We were going to leave really early the next morning. I could barley sleep that night because I was so excited. We weren’t leaving until six o’clock but I was up and ready to go by five. After an hour of bugging my family to pick up the pace so we could leave, we finally had everything packed into the car. We piled in and set off on our two and a half hour journey to Mount Sunapee in New Hampshire. I try to distract myself by listening to my iPod, but the time still seems to pass extremely slowly. All I want to do is get to the mountain and snowboard. My parents tried to persuade me to ski instead of snowboard, but I had my heart set on snowboarding. I thought that snowboarding would make me cooler. When we got really close I could see the mountain from the car. It was a lot bigger than I had expected and it scared me a little bit. We pulled into the parking lot and unloaded all of our stuff from the car and rode a bus to the rental lodge. They fitted me for boots and a snowboard and I couldn’t wait to get on the mountain. My parents had signed me up for a lesson because they ski and didn’t know how to teach me to snowboard. The instructor taught us how to buckle our feet into the board, and to walk from one place to another with one foot still attached to the board. I thought this was boring and pointless and just wanted to go down a slope. Finally the instructor took us up the magic carpet to the bunny hill. I had a very unrealistic impression that the first time I went down I was going to be an expert at it. I wasn’t, I fell every two feet. By the end of the lesson I has bruises on both my butt and knees, but I had gotten a lot better. My instructor told my parents that I was ready to go up the lift and try the easiest slope. I barley made it down, I was out of control for the majority of the time and almost when off the trail multiple times. I hated it. It was scary, painful, and I really didn’t like the feeling of both my feet being stuck together on the board. My brother had chosen to ski and had picked up on it really quickly and was having so much fun, so I decided that the next day I was going to try skiing instead. When I tried it I couldn’t believe how similar it was to skating, which I was pretty good at. Though the boots weren’t as comfortable and the skis were harder to carry, it was so much more fun. The rest of the trip was a blast and by the time we left I had even been on a few black diamonds. WORD COUNT: 553

Hockey

It is the first game of the season. It is also my first game ever playing high school hockey. In the locker room the captains are trying to get everybody pumped up, but I’m so nervous I think I’m going to vomit, my legs are shaking so much that I don’t even think that I will be able to skate. I have practiced with this team many times before, but you can’t compare that to a game. Everything is so much more important in a game. If you don’t play well than you don’t get to play at all. Everybody’s telling me not to be nervous but I can’t help it. I am terrified that I am going to make a mistake. Watching the other team in warm-up doesn’t make me feel much better either. I go sit on the bench and wait for my turn to go out. I can’t stop worrying. Finally it’s my turn. There are so many thoughts running through my head but as soon as the puck is dropped everything goes away. Im not nervous anymore, my ten years of hard work and practice have payed off, it just comes naturally now. My first shift is over in a flash. What seemed like ten seconds was actually a full minute and a half. I’m just glad that I have survived it without any major errors. Back on the bench I sit for a while, while other defensive pairs play. I’m not used to having more than two defensive pairs, so I usually don’t get that much of a break, and I like it that way. Get off, catch your breath, and go back on. But I’ve been sitting on the bench now for ten minutes, my heart rate has gone down, and my adrenaline has stopped pumping. I don’t feel like I’m in the game anymore. Finally it’s my turn go back out. I’m nervous again because I have had time on the bench to think. I’m fine thought, just like last time the shift flies by, and before I know it the coach is yelling for a change. This time I don’t have to wait as long though because one of the pairs of defense has been moved up to offense. I don’t have time to worry about anything, I start to play better and feel more comfortable. I’m in the zone and the game just seems to wiz by. It’s halfway through the third period and the game is tied, 1-1. We need to score soon otherwise we risk tying, or even loosing. I am very competitive and cannot stand to loose so that is not an option. We have had many chances to score but the puck just never quite bounced in our favor. Finally the other team gets a hooking penalty. This is our chance. We need to score. The center takes the face-off, and pulls it back to my defensive partner. She slides it across the blue line and I take a shot. It’s an awful shot. While its in the I’m thinking I can’t believe I just did that, I feel so bad that I’ve wasted the opportunity for my team, but to my amazement it bounces off the opposing defenders leg and into the net. I cannot believe that that just went in. We manage to hold them off for the remaining part of the period, and win. I scored the winning goal in my first ever high school hockey game. I am ecstatic but I wish I could have taken a better shot. Thought this might not have been my best game, it is one that I will remember forever.

WORD COUNT: 613

What is an essay?

An essay is a piece of writting. It is a piece of writting that consists of both concrete details and your comentary about the details. An essay is at least three paragraphs long, an introductary paragraph, at least one body paragraph, and a concluding paragraph. An essay is a piece of writting that gives your thoughts about a certain subject. It is an oppertunity to express your opinion about a subject.