D is for Downtown Disney When we got settled into our hotel all I wanted to do was go to the theme park and begin to have fun, but my dad had said it was too late to go. Even though we had agreed not to go to the theme parks we still decided to go to Downtown Disney for dinner. Arriving in downtown Disney felt like a total dream. Looking around I could see people from all different types of ethnicity and all just so happy to be here. I could smell the excitement in the air and seeing all the little girls dressed up like princesses and all the little boys dressed like pirates made me long for that feeling to be a child again. I stood with my mouth agape looking at all the sites and I could smell the food that was being cooked to perfection. As we walked by Goofy’s Chocolate …show more content…
I took a deep breath when we made it to the building. The smell of pasta noodle and various seasoning filled my nose making my mouth water at the thought of eating. When we walked in the hostess told us that the wait would be about a half an hour which sounded fine to us. We sat on the patio and bathed in the warm sunshine that was starting to set below the horizon. I looked to my mom and asked, “Could you go for some coffee?” My mom smiled and so did my sister as they could already tell that I was suggesting going back to the Starbucks that we had seen on the way in. My mom had started to get up and I volunteered to go with her since it had been my idea in the first place. When we reached the Starbucks the line was filled with teenage girls and mothers with teenage girls. I smiled at the thought of getting a grandè caramel ribbon crunch with extra caramel drizzle. It took us 10 minutes to get to the front and order and another 20 minutes to get the drinks and make it back. When we reached the table we were met with very bored looking expression of my
I wonder if I should I start calling Las Vegas, Nevada home now. I’ve traveled back and forth from California to Las Vegas since I was a child. I can remember at the age of thirteen my family and I would take family weekend trips very often. By the age of seventeen I was forced to move to Vegas for 6 months right before my senior year of high school started. Since it was my last year of high school my parents decided to let me go back to California for the last three months and graduate with my friends. Since I wasn’t eighteen yet, I forced to go back to Las Vegas right the day after graduation.
a bowl of soup from the other end of the table. I quickly took this opportunity
As my family piled into our car for our four-hour drive, I sincerely hoped my brothers wouldn’t ruin the best chance that we’ve had in a long time. They were already arguing about who got what video game, and were not making my mom and dad feel any better about going. We were going to Illinois, to Chicago, to be even more specific. Chicago was the city I’d been dreaming about visiting for a long time. (Well, that and New York.) I could not believe that my parents were getting out of their comfort zone and taking us to a big city.
I was sitting on the couch, strumming my guitar, while Abby and mom cooked dinner in the kitchen. Today, my sister came home. She ran out of money and couldn’t afford to pay her rent, so mom and pops decided to let her move in with us. I haven’t seen much of her, since she left for college. That was about 6 years ago. I think it will be nice having her around. Earlier, I helped take the boxes of her stuff up to her old bedroom and I put all of her paintings in the garage. She told me she would give me $25 for helping her, so that was cool. I wish mom didn’t have me put those paintings in the garage, though, because that is where my band practices. Those paintings are taking up too much room.
Starbucks was the one thing that never changed across
Because of some of the circumstances that make me who I am, it is hard to say I have any one definitive home. Instead, I have had two true homes, ever since I was a young child. What makes this even more of a conundrum is that my homes have always had little in common, even though they are only a few hundred miles apart. Between the big city of Houston, Texas, and the small town of Burns Flat, Oklahoma, I have grown up in two very different towns that relate to one another only in the sense that they have both raised me.
Before sitting down, we decided to get our food first. I made sure to grab a lot of turkey but, to also take sides I will eat. I didn’t want to throw away half a plate of stuffing and cranberry sauce. With a plate full of turkey and vegetables, Sam and I pulled up a couple chairs on the far end of the table.
We were greeted by a smiling cashier who told us our wait would be 20 minutes. However, our wait time turned into 45 minutes. We mentioned it to our cashier who had the owner call us. Sal called a few hours later and we received a free pizza, any size, any toppings, on our next visit.
Sometimes some places leave everlasting impressions on your mind, and you never forget the experienced that you have enjoyed there. I had that kind of experience. I visited Hollywood that has become a landmark of American culture. Hollywood is a range situated toward the west and northwest of downtown Los Angeles, California. All through history, Hollywood has been the home of film stars and motion picture studios. When you think about the focal point of the American stimulation industry, you consider Hollywood.
Without the crowds, the constant pushing and shoving of bodies, Times Square Station was menacing. As I walked alone through the dull, never-ending hallways of the subway, the echoes of my footsteps were my only companion. I glanced at the glowing numbers on my digital wrist watch, squinting my eyes to make out the numbers. 2:17am, it read, a great time to start working.
Not even moments later my order to ready. I grabbed my treats and find an empty table to sit
“I have to tell my parents, but thanks,” I said before I closed the car door and walked to the front door of my house. What was I going to tell them? I knew my mother was going to be furious when I told her I let some boy into the house when both her and my father were out.
When I was a young child I would love to hear my parents tell me that we were going on a trip. I would be full of excitement, because I knew that we would be going to a place that I had never seen before. My parents, my brother, and I would pack our luggage and venture out in our small gray minivan. Three of my most cherished memories in our minivan are when we went to Disney World, the beach, and the mountains.
After we got off the airplane, we rented a car and drove to my Uncle Joe?s house. We finally got there and then we all went out to eat dinner. We went to some Italian restraunt and boy was it good. To this day, I have never tasted anything as good as the Veal Picata I had that day. I ate so much that I could hardly move and once I got back to my uncle?s, I just passed out and went to bed. I had a big and exciting day ahead of me. I was going to Universal Studios and I couldn?t wait.
Once upon a time, I saw the world like I thought everyone should see it, the way I thought the world should be. I saw a place where there were endless trials, where you could try again and again, to do the things that you really meant to do. But it was Jeffy that changed all of that for me. If you break a pencil in half, no matter how much tape you try to put on it, it'll never be the same pencil again. Second chances were always second chances. No matter what you did the next time, the first time would always be there, and you could never erase that. There were so many pencils that I never meant to break, so many things I wish I had never said, wish I had never done. Most of them were small, little things, things that you could try to glue back together, and that would be good enough. Some of them were different though, when you broke the pencil, the lead inside it fell out, and broke too, so that no matter which way you tried to arrange it, they would never fit together and become whole again. Jeff would have thought so too. For he was the one that made me see what the world really was. He made the world into a fairy tale, but only where your happy endings were what you had to make, what you had to become to write the words, happily ever after. But ever since I was three, I remember wishing I knew what the real story was.