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1. The setting of the diary entries was at the beach (for my diary entries) on the 24th of January 2017.
2. In one of the diaries entries I was angry, displeased and frustrated due to my forceful attendance of the beach with my family. This is all whilst witnessing my friends having fun without me on Instagram and a series of unfortunate events including the heat, the beach looking rough and a seagull stealing my chips.
In the other diary entry the I was happy, feeling lucky, calm and satisfied with myself due to my early complement of my assessment task. The free time granted by the assessment task lead to a family outing to the beach whilst my friends were staying home doing school work.
3. My personal context set the tone for the two
The activity of understanding Alice Williamson's diary begins prior to reading the first word. The reader begins to identify part of the reading experience based upon their feelings on diaries themselves in the moments of suspension between knowledge of type of text and the reading of the first entry.
The girl writing the diary is very concerned with her weight, her crush Roger and has a hard time fitting in in school. She is very relieved at first when she hears that her family is going to move to a new town, due to her father’s new job as a professor at a different college.
The straightforward and simple diary is filled with conflicting emotions, ranging from depress...
Although mine differs than her in style, through studying hers I realized I very rarely write about my family, nuclear or otherwise.. Although our two diaries are different in nature, there is difference in value that we share. For Chloa, her family is her main social circle and their health and happiness is one of her main concerns and so it is reflected in her diary. For myself, I focus more on the health and happiness of my peer group, as well as personal exploration. By comparing the two, a shift in values away from family and towards a more personal, independent self identity can be seen. That being said, we do both share the tendency to record popular cultural events in the same
When a diary is read, it is easy to comprehend the author's feelings about what may be going on in their lives at that time. For example,
I felt calm even though the noise couldn’t be worse. I felt happy even in the saddest and scariest scenes because that was the place where y believed I belonged. Due to my fathers job, my mother and I where always obligated to attend to a bunch of social events with all the bureaucracy of London. People care a lot of the image you give to other people, especially when you have money; my mom and I were my father’s image.
P1 Life was blooming in my childhood. Every second was memorable and the thoughts that went through my head were delicate and unharmed. As time went by there was difficulties and times of unhappiness. Despite the several occasions that changed my views it helped in a posi,tive way since those stormy times had helped me become a person that i acknowledge today
Speckles of sand were lifted off the beach and snatched by a gust of wind, they flew in all different directions, dancing in the breeze. I laid my eyes upon the young girl eagerly seeking a stick in the nearby sand. I admired her silky blond hair, that she described as white, that lay sprawled across her back. And, I took in her bold blue eyes that shone with pride as she found a suitable stick to demonstrate her most recent triumph. The stick she found was thin and dotted with moss, it comprised of many diverse shades of brown, and with it, she began to indent the sand with the letters of her name.
We were hot, thirsty, and hungry. We had plans to meet Jodie, my mom’s friends, at her condo on the beach in Hollywood, Fl. She had prepared lunch for us. By the time we finished lunch, the storm had passed, it was sunny, the sky was clear, typical Florida weather. We took the elevator to the pool deck and then walked to the beach. We quickly checked the lifeguard flags to be safe.
Do you remember when your sister used to write in her diary and how curious you were on finding out what she wrote in it? If you didn’t have a sister – do you remember keeping your own diary hoping that your mom would not find it one day and read it? At a young age, we all learn to keep a diary or journal. In elementary school, we may have been required to write in a journal in class replying to a question asked by the teacher like “How was your weekend?” or “How was your break?” Simple questions were asked to help generate ideas in our young minds and help us write our own story. But now that we are older, do we still have the opportunity to write our own story the same way we used to? Are we still able to release our emotions and reflect on events in our lives? Though many people see keeping a journal as childish or a waste of time, the effects of recording ones thoughts are beneficial.
A new day has begun. Slowly ascending into the cold dark sky, the sun glows vibrantly with delight. The passionate colours fill the sky with warmth like the pink grapefruits, zesty lemons, citrus oranges and cherry red. The sea so subtle sparkles preciously as it strolls up against the shore. The crystal water that stretch out far into the horizon gets darker and deeper but stays very calm.
It was the type of family vacation that a girl dreams of. A luxury hotel in Cabo San Lucas with a stunning pool and the aquamarine ocean steps away. A perfect excuse to lounge about in my royal blue string bikini, highlighting my long legs, 38D breasts, a physique shaped by years of sports, and made my eyes really pop (they're two colors - one is green, the other blue). As I reclined on the teak chaise, raybans on, blonde hair caressing my cleavage, I felt a small drip of water hit my thigh. I raised my eyes and was met with the sight of a tanned man standing about 6 ft. tall with thick, slightly wavy, brown hair, eyes that reminded me of molten chocolate, and a mojito in his hand.
Cool, course sand is padded beneath my feet. My toes bury themselves under the sand as if it were a blanket. The light, icy breeze of the sea frisks playfully up my legs leaving chills and raised hairs in its path. I can taste the sweet perfume of the salty air. My eyebrows furrow as I soak up the radiant summer sun.
As I lay on the minute golden grains of sand, I looked up at the brilliant sky, adorned with flashes of pink and orange and purple, mirroring the colours of a flawless seasoned apricot. The goddess-like sun’s face is being embraced by the demure navy fingertips of the skyline.
Although the act of journaling is a positive experience, the main character must hide her writing from her husband for fear that he would catch her writing. She writes ‘Life is very much more exciting now than it used to be. You see, I have something more to expect, to look forward to, to watch. I really do eat better, and am more quiet than I was.’ (653 Gilman).