personal VABEs within my own experiences and in everyday life. The first situation that occurred where I was able to identify my personal VABEs took place a couple of weekends ago. I was at a bar with a large group of my friends celebrating our mutual friend’s 21st birthday. We were obviously drinking alcoholic beverages and a friend of mine decided he was going to attempt to drive home. My personal values of not breaking the law or even putting other’s lives in danger‚ my assumptions that driving
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Coming the Worst Day of My Life The worst day of my life was the day I learned that my father died. Overcoming the difficulty imposed by that tremendous loss made me stop and think about what life is really about. In the six years sense I have overcome many obstacles. I have learned and experienced things I never thought possible. I remember the absolute worst day of my life the day was Friday‚ July 20 2007. It was a day that started out as an ordinary day like usual. That was until my grandmother
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The Worst Day of My Life...With Sprinkles on Top Even though it is the correct texture‚ believe me when I say that caramel sauce makes a terrible hair gel! The time I spent working at my uncle’s ice cream stand was the worst six hours of my life. If I had had any idea how work would effect my sanity‚ I would have kept my mouth shut and never asked for a car Working part-time to pay half the car’s cost‚ and letting my parents cover the remainder‚ seemed like a splendid compromise. My job seemed
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One day that changed my whole life. I was 25 years old when I was diagnosed with cancer. It was at a time when I was doing what I did best – dancing and I was taking a course to become a future color and style advisor. I had been working on it for almost two years‚ I grew to the level that I could easily record the dance steps and I built up the necessary condition. In fact I lived and breathed dance and style but nearing the summer of 2007‚ I was getting really fatigued and wasn’t able to attend
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In the spring of 1943‚ the two would be united as one. Life in this time period was simplistic just like Katie had dreamed of her wedding being. Katie had dreamed of her wedding from the time she was a young girl and the reality was it was time to put those dreams into action. She scrambled through old magazines and newspapers to find the perfect venue‚ the most exquisite flowers‚ and the delicacies of a desert. Katie knew from the moment she became engaged that she would wear her mother’s old wedding
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I woke up earlier than my brother as every other day of the week. I took a fifteen minute warm shower. It left me with twenty five more minutes to get dressed‚ have breakfast‚ brush my teeth‚ say good bye to my mother and get in the car no later than 7:05. I got to school on time‚ even though my brother came out of the house late as he used to. It was a Thursday. Those first two forty five minute math periods made the morning go by too slow for me. I took the math test and did pretty well at it.
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Identity I am here today to discuss our Australian Identity. How do you imagine a typical Australian? Maybe you see a blonde haired‚ blue eyed surfing babe? Or a bushman who drinks Bushels tea and four X beers while munching on some snags cooked on the BBQ? Or perhaps you see someone like Steve Irwin‚ our iconic crocodile hunter. Or do you picture the movie “Crocodile Dundee?” Australians are stereotyped and our typical Australian is usually imagined to be male. (Click) Russell Ward‚ well known author
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Typical Me Anger. A controlling sensation of which I have lived with my entire life: an experience of truly horrific re-occurrences. When I say that my anger is controlling I don’t mean that I have my occasional little tantrums‚ I go into another state of mind‚ one of which only a few people have yet seen me in. It is unimaginably frightful for people around me and even worse for me. It interests me‚ my anger‚ and it makes me wonder what a human being is capable of‚ what lengths a certain emotion
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“Run! You got this Hannah!”‚ shouted my dad. Hearing him cheer me on urged me to play tougher‚ run faster‚ kick the ball harder. I passed to one of my teammates‚ she scored‚ and the crowd went wild. I turned towards my dad and saw his smile explode across the field making me feel like the utmost adored person in the world. This was my junior year. It has been three months since my father abruptly died. I spent time with him on Sunday and he was gone on Monday. I felt desolate‚ heartbroken‚ and resentful
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watched my mom run herself ragged to try and support us. She was finishing her college degree‚ while working two jobs and raising me. My parents had just gotten divorced and I was scared and sad and didn’t understand what was happening. My mom and I were incredibly tight on money‚ and things were terrifying. I was a ten year old worrying about my next meal. As girls wore hoodies that read “Hollister” and “Aeropostale‚” I was wearing mix-matched outfits we had found at goodwill. While my friends
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