Recent Changes

Family Vacation
Mom can coax dad into anything. Especially when it comes to buying things.
into buying. Besides DadsBesides, dad's 85’ Chevy to happen.
"is" + cliche + "was"
‘Zzzz! Zzzz! Zzzz!’
‘Mom! GrandpasGrandpa's snoring again!’ purple Dodge CaravanCaravan.
‘Pa!’ my dad quickly responded ‘WAKE UP!’
‘Oh!’ my grandpa awakened. Rattled by the sudden noise.
‘Grandpa I’m I’m trying to ‘respect your elders’.
Sheelders.’
She stared at big brother.
not a complete sentence, also, the "her" isn't clear
Mom shouted from the passengers seat.
‘Vanessa take that look off your face and Joey zip it!’
‘But mom Joey started it!’ Vanessa shouted.
‘Jesus Christ, can’t we just go on vacation without you kids acting like wild animals.’
Iwho, and how was it conveyed?
I looked over sitting beside meme.
‘Nope I guess not’ she smiled.
On my other side I had Grandpa who appeared to be nodding off again. Either that or he was trying to catch flies with his eyes closed and his mouth hung open.
I tapped my Uncle Joe on the shoulder to ask him what time it was. No answer.
be sleeping’. She
She put her JoJo Bello?’ hmm…11 o’clock
'Hmm…11 o’clock' I responded. read it.
Speech must be in separate lines.
‘Grandma one time dad drove the Celebrity without any keys. He just yanked the keys out and kept on going.’ I rambled.
be a tattletale’tattletale,’ he responded from upfront.
‘Besidesupfront ‘besides, I think
‘Yes dear’ she replied.
some rest, tomorrowstomorrow's a big and now youryou're in grade
I cuddled close to Grandma. I felt her warm and safe arms wrap me so delicately. She tickled my forehead because she knew it would put me to sleep.
‘Zzzz'Zzzz zzz zzz!zzz!' I was
I don’t remember falling asleep. I don’t remember dreaming at all either. All I remember is the horrific scream that echoed from Grandma’s mouth.
I opened my eyes. Jolted to attention and noticed we were heading straight toward a cloud of white smoke. The car felt like an airplane experiencing turbulence.
‘HOLY SHIT’ I screamed.
I couldn’t believe what I saw.
This mini vanThe mini-van flew in in perfect formationformation, the one-ton metal plowed threwthrough the guardrail off its tracks. Landingtracks: landing upside down halt. Dad, Mommom and Uncleuncle Joe scurried heard a mansman's voice scream see everything but I could hear everything.
My Grandma was in tears. My Grandpa looked discombobulated. Vanessa couldn’t take her eyes of my parents. I couldn’t take my eyes of my parents either.
A man got out of the mutilated van. He was the only one though.
saw my Mommom rush back
I could hear a baby screaming at the top of its lungs.
How about "My mom rushed back to the van and swung open the door."
‘Hurry give me a blanket God Dammit!’ I gave mom the blanket wrapped around me. She swung the door closed.
The babiesbaby's ear-piercing cry didn’t budge.
In the distance red and white lights flickered. They came from behind our van now to. In no time that place was lit up like a Christmas tree.
The beaming lights blinded Vanessa and I. So we both hopped out the driver’s side door. My grandmother screamed like she did before only louder this time. We ran closer to see what had happened.

“Write about something that happened at school.”
Until recently I didn’t have too much to say about my school life, it was uneventful to me at least. I’m certain that it had something about the fact that I could not relate on a personal level. I did not find it impossible to connect to the rising prices of student fees, that may or may not happen in the next ten years, nor could I resolve myself to feel about the inequalities happening in Gaza, after all, I didn’t know anyone directly involved.
I found myself concerned over an extremely trivial issue, not on campus, but on the web. I was browsing through the Wowhead forums and IRC when a moderator contacted me about an anime that was causing a uproar by the Korean Netizens. While I was usually apathetic, being both a Korean by birth and heritage, and a lover of anime and manga, I inquired upon this anime. The anime is called Hetalia, The Axis Powers; apparently combining Japanese characters for “useless” and “Italy” and referring to the events of WWII in a satire. Korean Netizens felt that the manga portrayed Korea as a dunce and overall insulted Korea, and the Netizens petitioned to have the anime cancelled and removed. Then I recalled that in UTM Anime Club, we were going to be showing the said anime.
Upon realizing this, I immediately took to the UTM Anime Club forums, to see if any posts have been made regarding this anime, and to both my disappointment and excitement, I found none and I created one copying and pasting the chat I had with the Wowhead IRC. I took into consideration that the Koreans overreacted, and that Anime fans were generally dismayed by the cancellation of the series on a private network in Japan, so I weighed my options and decided to take a neutral approach to the situation, to take a position where I can tell the world about how unfair Japan’s advertisement of Korean stereotypes and at the same time, not hate the anime for political and historical reasons.
The first to respond and the person that I first discussed this issue in-depth was… Let’s call him BB. BB took the information, said that he could understand why people would be upset but countered that with the fact that he couldn’t be bothered to care about the issue on a personal level. He wanted his anime. I came to the student center on Thursday waiting for a call from the Student Union for a budget proposal discussion, when suddenly, I saw BB sitting by the couches beside the Druken Duck, and so I approached him to touch upon the issue.
“Reading the wall of text I wrote I see.” I said as my eyes crept onto the words on his laptop.
“Oh hey, yea I was just going through what you’ve wrote.” He replied cheerfully. After talking to BB for about twenty minutes, we came to a mutual understanding, that the WWII issue was serious and as Japan never apologized for their actions, they should not parody it, and Korea, should lighten up a little bit. This encounter gave me a boost of confident to take into the next anime meeting, to talk about it in the open and why I felt that viewing the anime shouldn’t be taken lightly. We then proceeded to talk for another forty or so minute about nothing before I decided to call it a day.
I came home and into the forums with a few more replies, something about freedom of speech and to take the entire thing as a satire, so I did a bit more research and I took upon myself to leave a general reply on the thread.
Friday, Anime Night, rolled on pretty quickly. I came to watch the usual animes, I was a bit late running into the presentation room, but I didn’t miss anything. As I walked in the door, the club president offered me a strawberry flavored pocky, a biscuit stick covered in sweet coating of cream or chocolate, I reached out for a buck or two of change before I realized that she was offering a snack for the sake of it, not to sell it.
“Oh, I thought you were going to sell them to me, I was reaching into my pockets.” I said with a smile and a snicker.
“Nope, although you could still buy one.” She smiled back and pointed at the various boxes of pocky littered on the table. The proceedings went on as usual, watching through our animes, intermission, pizza, snacks, sales and raffles, of which I’ve won another poster for my sister. Then Hetalia, the five minute controversy, was shown. The anime itself was rather well done and funny, however, I felt that the issue I had in mind should be brought up, and so I asked the president for permission and took the stage.
“My grandfather lost his home to WWII and he hasn’t been able to go back to his homeland in sixty-seventy years, how is that fair?” I started off, not quite the way I wanted it to start, but a start nevertheless. The details became a bit hazy from that point, I talked about how WWII was a serious event and should not be parodied, and I seemed to have talked on my side for about a minute or so before the execs who were buttsore about anime loosing its statues came up and started questioning.
“Why is Korea so self-centered, it parodies other animes as well, what makes Korea so special?” One of the executives asked.
“Aren’t you being self-centered by wanting an anime that offends other people as well?” I asked, thinking back, I think my grammar could have been suffering a bit from my temper.
And again, I fell into a haze. I stared around the room, most of the people were quiet, except for the two execs almost yelling at each other at the center of the room, one of them talked to me, and I talked back, and then I heard the exec screaming at me: “If you don’t like the anime, don’t watch it!” She then proceeded to literally run towards the podium to continue with the evening anime.
The president then called off the debate, saying that it was a bit too much for the schedule. I was infuriated to say the least. “She cut off my words and she yelled at me, is that something an exec should do?” I asked the president in a corner of the room.
“No, that was uncalled for.” She replied.
“I demand that the anime be put off until she explains herself to me.” I demanded, but my demands weren’t getting me anywhere, nor was it earning me any points. “Could you at least tell her not to yell at me when we talk?” I pleaded.
“If you want, you can go talk to her, but I will not get between you two.” She explained herself.
Following her instructions, I walked to the table where the exec was sitting, and I asked her; “Can we talk outside a bit?”
“No.” She said with a straight face, and to be honest she driving me insane, to the point where I contemplated if I should report the entire club for discrimination, I knew that even if I could not take them down, I could murk the Student Union with yet another headache.
But then the exec beside her explained “She’s a bit busy, can we talk here?” to which I agreed.
“I felt that you shouldn’t have yelled at me and you shouldn’t have cut me off like that.” I said, a bit angry and a bit sad.
“I yelled because you weren’t getting my point.” She maintained a straight face, how so, I could not imagine.
“That the Koreans shouldn’t be the only country to get mad?” I questioned her and her sanity, and who in the right mind decides if others should be angry or not.
“No, that Korea shouldn’t have cancelled the anime. They don’t have a right to decide what other countries produce, look at china, they block everything that happens inside their country.” Things made a lot more sense after that point, but at the same time, I knew I had to give up, after all, I could not force her to change her mind on how to approach the issue, and methodically speaking, her way made more sense.
On my Expressive Writing professor’s recommendation, where he realized if he was influencing me or not, I had purchased a netbook, and for a couple days, I was busy configuring the settings to my personal preference, trying to boot up Ubuntu really. I took this as an excuse to avoid the Anime Club forums for a while, and for a while I stayed away. The issue arose in my thoughts now and then, and I finally built up the courage to take a peek at the forums, and to my dismay, an exec posted a link to a counter-petition to the anime, threatening to delete any potential troubles.
This irritated me, and I messaged the president, but I took the liberty to read through the other posts and my original topic, and to my surprise, found that the exec who yelled at me was not aware of all the issues I was talking about.
Then everything came crashing down on me, I felt relieved that the exec didn’t know everything, because she admitted to wanting to watch the anime, but being able to concern herself with why the Koreans are upset. The PM from the president came back, telling me that the exec was in the wrong for posting the petition there and will talk to her about having it removed to my section, where I could freely counteract.
Then I realized, hey, maybe the execs have enough humanity in them, which, ironically, I am an exec of another club, so in that thought, I mocked myself. I realized that people can’t get over emotional things quickly, that things dear to them will hurt, even if you know the others are telling the truth.
Maybe, just maybe, I could become a bit more human too.

“The Bicycle Trail”
“Dad, I don’t want to go to the Piba Class. Can we go next weekend? ”
few drops spurredspurred(splashed) on my of the (my) father’s silver bicycle. I was sat behind neither did it!it (he)!
“Oh, well,well(-) well, I’m you’re going (to) enjoy the Chinese instrument! You have to stickStick to your words!”word!”
Recently, my possibility for herher(his) only daughter to mastermaster(ing) a (traditional) Chinese traditional
“But my dear beloved sweet liver, you can’t just be good at Art. According to the ancient Chinese criterion of being a Fair Lady, you have to know how to draw, play chess, appreciate literature and master an instrument! ”
“Dad, we’re living in 20th century, not in stone age! Who cares about being a fair lady! That thing doesn’t sell in now days.”

“The Bicycle Trail”
weekend? ”
I
I begged my did it!
“Oh,
“Oh, well, well, your words!”
Recently,
Recently, my dad strict instructor.
“But
“But my dear instrument! ”
“Dad,
“Dad, we’re living now days.”
One
One day, after and stronger.
“Please,
“Please, dad! I ... ...”
I
I kept on country side.
A
A ball entered the ball.
How
How I envy over me.
“Ahhhhhhhh”
“Ahhhhhhhh” I cried!
Father
Father stopped paddling bicycle tire.
“Oi
“Oi yo yo circular motion.
“We
“We have to on there!”
But
But I did with uneasiness.
I
I have never scared before.
He
He either smiles, of honey.
I
I tightened my wet shirt.
“Dad,
“Dad, I’m okay. I’m fine!”
Dad
Dad murmured something. never end.

AlloooooGaber-Guo Everybody, this“The Bicycle Trail”
“Dad, I don’t want to go to the Piba Class. Can we go next weekend? ”
I begged my father as he peddled through a small pond (small amount: is Gaber!!! (I don't know whatthis the right word to write here, so just bearuse?) of rain water on the pedestrian path. A few drops spurred on my ankle. It felt cool as the summer air passed through my skin in the idle commotion of the father’s silver bicycle. I was sat behind him on the backseat, wrapping around his wide and chubby waist with me)
I am very pleased to joinboth of my arms. My Piba case kept hitting my back whenever it got a chance, especially when we were an uneven road. I never liked it and neither did it!
“Oh, well, well, I’m sure you’re going enjoy the class. Besides you have already promised me that this Writing Supergroup! Please feel freeyear, you’re going learn one Chinese instrument! You have to editstick to your words!”
Recently, my workdad has been delirious about possibility for her only daughter to master a Chinese traditional instrument. He would deliberately pause at a TV channel that shows live performance of the Chinese traditional orchestra when I’m beside him and giveask me “What do you think? Want to try one just for fun?” My intuition told me to never trust him when he suggested “just for fun”! Once he tricks me to attend the first class, he would continue to do so until I finish the entire course. That’s what happened with my guitar class, my Samba and my badminton lessons. Had my mom not intervened, my spare time to enjoy drawing would have been replaced by tedious practice following a lotstrict instructor.
“But my dear beloved sweet liver, you can’t just be good at Art. According to the ancient Chinese criterion of comments! (Doesn't matterbeing a Fair Lady, you have to know how hard they are,to draw, play chess, appreciate literature and master an instrument! ”
“Dad, we’re living in 20th century, not in stone age! Who cares about being a fair lady! That thing doesn’t sell in now days.”
One day, after my 13th birthday, my father asked me, for the 99th times, which instrument I can take them, exceptwould like to learn. I might get intofinally gave up and picked Piba. I thought it would be easy for me to learn since it mildly resembles a big debateguitar. However, I was wrong. I soon find myself struggled to keep up with you! LOL)
Oh,the class requirement. And now as my father and I are heading toward the music school not far away from my junior high, I felt the reluctance within me grow bigger and stronger.
“Please, dad! I really don’t want to go! I don’t feel well. Mrs. Chen is so annoying; she thinks she’s the best! She never stops listen to what I guesswant to say. She is as cruel as the emperor Qing. She wants us to kneel down in front of her and beg her to show us how she preformed when she was on a tour in Japan ... ...”
I kept on complaining until we entered a road that I’ve never taken before. This is the first time my father dropped me to school with a bicycle. He usually would drive me to the destination with his beautiful silver Buick. However, today he could not do so since he ordered his employees to take up an important customer from the airport. The path unfolded ahead us in gentle slopes. Sparkles of the sunrays escaped from the space in between the leaves printed on the path. I saw green trees on either side of the road waved and whispered at us. The road smelled of earth, fruits and animal wastes. For a second I thought I was in the country side.
A ball entered my vision. I looked back and saw three kids playing at the side of the road near the fences. One had a wood stick in his hand and ran after the girl with the ball in her hand. He poked her. She turned back and blocked another poke with the ball.
How I envy them. I could have been playing with my friends right now our priorityhad I not taken the Piba lessons. Yet, I could still make my dad change my mind, I thought. What if I jump off the bicycle and start running back? My dad would bedefinitely try to reachme. I will beg him again to let me skip of today’s lesson. At least by then I would feel much more control once my feet are on the ground. I impulsively moved my feet backward to prepare myself for the land fall. Suddenly, an concensusoverwhelming pain took over me.
“Ahhhhhhhh” I cried!
Father stopped paddling instantly and jerked off the bicycle. I wailed as blood spilled off my ankle. Some spanned through my lower heel, some covered part of the thin metal railings on the time when we shall meet togetherbicycle tire.
“Oi yo yo yo! What happened? Don’t move, don’t move.” After a short examination of my injury, father quickly hopped on the bicycle again. This time, he did not peddle, his two feet was racing against each other in a circular motion.
“We have to hurry to do the editing!
Anybodyhospital, hang on there!”
But I did not mind a word he said, I was busy crying. His back leaned forward. My arms around him gradually felt the heat and sweat. His panting became louder and louder eventually occupying both of my ears as I could no longer hear anything else but his heavy breathing. My cries softened but my heart was filled with uneasiness.
I have never seemed my father got scared before.
He either smiles, laughs or frowns. When I through in a tantrum, he would try to smooth me by facing me with his pouting lips, mocking me of being such a baby. When I really get too far, he would scold at me even spank me with his palm. But I could not remember the last time he did that. The only thing I remembered what he did was hiding backstage spying me during my dancing performance at my elementary school graduation day. I was concentrating on the moves and the corner of my eye suddenly detected a familiar image. It was my dad, squatting near the curtain on the right side of the stage, watching me. I could see he was smiling as if he has any ideas?just finished a bottle of honey.
I tightened my grasp my father’s wet shirt.
“Dad, I’m okay. Don’t tire yourself out. I’m fine!”
Dad murmured something. I didn’t hear. I buried my face deep into his shirt. I heard the tree branches above us .....(what’s the right verd to use to describe the sound made by leaves rubbing against each other.) They branched out toward each other, enclosing the sky and embedding a beautiful tunnel for me and dad. And I wished the trail would never end.

AlloooooGaber-Guo Everybody, this is Gaber!!! (I don't know what to write here, so just bear with me)
I am very pleased to join this Writing Supergroup! Please feel free to edit my work and give me a lot of comments! (Doesn't matter how hard they are, I can take them, except I might get into a big debate with you! LOL)
Oh, well. I guess right now our priority would be to reach an concensus on the time when we shall meet together to do the editing!
Anybody has any ideas?