Blog Eight

Ideas for Short Essays

It is so difficult to come up with a few ideas about a short story because they need to be more condensed and still having a lot of detail and description. I was only able to come up with one idea that I think will work for my first short essay and that is about my very first memory. It is something that I can describe in great detail and remember very vividly.

Blog Seven - Long Essay Draft 2

Danielle Zingalis

Long Essay 2 – Draft

 

 

 

Different Sides of the Same Door

 

 

            We were always different. As babies and toddlers we were dressed in matching clothes and had the same hairstyles, but looking the same and acting the same is so different. I was always the one to walk to my own speed and Chrissy wasn’t. All that didn’t matter though, it didn’t matter how different we acted or how different our personalities were, and we were always inseparable.

            Back when VHS’s were still popular and home videos were something used to capture major moments, my dad was always there with a camera in his hands. A few years ago we were watching some home videos and there was one that seemed to have given me that “ah-ha” moment where I saw I was always this way. It was Halloween and we were at a school participating in the holiday activities for the kids. I couldn’t have been more than five years old. The game that was shown on the video was a representation of musical chairs, instead of chairs being used there was large paper squares on the floor. The same concepts applies for the game, once the music stops everyone had to get on a square. It seemed that I didn’t like the rules because once the music started playing I went to stand on a square. I didn’t want to play the game by the rules they had, I was so young and already walking to my own beat. It was during that time that Chrissy and I were inseparable, we were in the same preschool class and kindergarten class and all of our time was spent together.    

            It wasn’t until elementary school that they decided to split us up. As inseparable as we were, the school thought we should be interacting with other students our age as if the school knew what was best for me and my sister. Nonetheless we were separated and put into different classes. Maybe it helped us gain some independence, we were locked at the hip since birth and maybe a little space did us some good, but I can’t say for sure. All I know is that whether the school knew what they were doing or not when it came to our interactions with other students, Chrissy and I were still inseparable and a different class wasn’t going to change that.

            By the time we went to High School, we couldn’t be separated anymore. There wasn’t enough classes and too many students. It was nice to be able to have a class with my twin again after having being separated in school for so long. It’s so hard to say for certain when we became the people we are today, but I do think it’s safe to say that by High School, Chrissy and I were both set in our ways. During the four High School years that we shared, we both had the same friends and a few that were just mine or just hers. It was also during those years that people would refer to Chrissy as “the nice one” and me as “the mean one,” and I was fine with that. It was the truth. That was all a part of our personalities, Chrissy has always been a tolerant and forgiving person, it’s something I love about her. Me, on the other hand, I was far from forgiving people easily. I always knew how to hold on to a grudge. I had no tolerance for stupidity or practical jokes. My mom always says that my humor always has been on a different level than everyone in the family.

            I like to think about what may happen before it happens, especially in a situation I haven’t been in before. I think about the consequences and the repercussions, I map out everything that could possibly go wrong and Chrissy is willing to try anything and think later. I really love that about her. I love that she is so willing to be open about new experiences and willing to try anything. I am too paranoid to do things like that, I always think about what could go wrong rather than what could go right. With all my irrational fears, I think me being slightly paranoid is normal for me, but not for Chrissy. In a way, because we are so different, we protect each other.

            When it comes to being in the dark, having bugs in the house, having people call me names, I know Chrissy will be there to make sure that I don’t fall. She’ll sit with me so I won’t be alone when the sun goes down, she’ll have a napkin ready to kill the bug once she hears me screaming, and she will never let anyone get away with talking bad about me. I would do the same for her, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her. When she is willing to dive in head first, I hold her back and tell her to think before she acts, I never let anyone bad mouth my sister to me in any way, and if she needed help with anything, I would always help her.

            Chrissy is a student at Kean enrolled in the Art and Education program. Even when she was younger, she has this amazing talent for drawing and painting. If she is given an object to draw, she will draw to par, it will look absolutely stunning. I, on the other hand, don’t have an artistic bone in my body. In High School, I had to take a drawing class and she happened to be in the same class with me, she always helped me. She always sat next to me and helped me with my projects and I was so appreciative. I was always the more academic type. I would much rather write a paper than anything else, writing always came easy to me. Chrissy struggles when it comes to her writing, she always tries her hardest and then I will take her papers and look over them and correct them. I like that we are so different in that artistic and academic way, she uses the left side of her brain and I am on the right.

            I always wonder what our lives would be like if we were the same, if we thought the same way and acted the same way. Would be as close as we are? Would be able to tolerate each other the way we do now? Maybe it’s because we are so different that we get along so well, it would be so strange to have this amazing relationship with her if we were so alike. I know I can go to her and talk to her about anything and she will be understanding and calm. With me, it would be completely different. If she came to me about anything she knows that whatever answer or advice I give her will be what she needs to hear and not what she wants to hear. It’s not always about being the “same” all the time. When people think of twins they can often think about dressing the same and having the same hairstyle and being the identical version of the other. That’s not who Chrissy and I are. We may share the same clothes, but that’s about it. We are so different and we think so differently, it’s the reason I think we are so close. We balance each other out and keep each other on steady ground. It’s always about being there for the other person when they may fall, it’s nice to know I have her to catch me in case I ever fall and she knows that I would do the same for her.   

Blog Six

Long Essay Two Ideas

At the young age of twenty-two, thinking about moments that have impacted my life have come far and few between. The traumatic scare that took place when I was six was always a memory that stuck with me and always will, which is why I chose it for Long Essay One.

The weeks for this fall semester seem to be going by so quickly and it's already time for Long Essay Two. Maybe it's the constant stress I have or the overload of upcoming assignment and things that need to get done always running in my head, but thinking about something to write for Long Essay Two has been a challenge. I had two ideas that may seem to work for this essay; one was about a long, lost family member. The other was about having Bell's Palsy. The latter of the two happened when I was in fourth grade and yet it seems like the memories of what happened to me have faded. I don't know why that is. The former idea, the one about the long, lost family member, it's complicated. As easy as it would be to tell the story, I don't think I am comfortable talking that in depth about my family.

My final idea was about my twin sister and I. There are no pivotal moments that jump out at me, but writing about myself and my sister seems like something that would come easy to me. We couldn't be more different than each other and yet we couldn't be closer.

These are just the few ideas I have and I don't know which to write or maybe I will think of something else. I guess only time will tell.

Blog Five

Revising Draft One

After having the meeting with Dr. Chandler and my group during class, I was given really good insights about what to do next in my Long Story. I plan on discussing more about the "now" instead of just keeping the focus mostly in the past. I also want to try and add more dialogue to the story to help the story flow more.

Even though I was given great advice about the story and what to do next, I am not too sure if this is the story I plan on revising for my final draft.

Blog 4 - Long Essay - Rough Draft

Danielle Zingalis

Rough Draft – Long Essay 1

 

The Mask

            At twenty-two year’s old I would have to say that my list of irrational fears has dwindled in the past ten years. My fear of the dark, of being in the house alone, an unexpected noise that seems to make only me jump is only listing a few. I have come to live with my fears and so has my family. They don’t hurt anyone or cause anyone distress, except maybe myself, and I don’t see this “phase” passing anytime soon. These fears that I have weren’t things that I just woke up to, something had happened to me that changed everything. I remember a time in my life when I was scared to tears. Unfortunately it was my father who scared me. To this day, I still think about that moment. One minute was all it took to scare the living daylights out of me.

            My aunt used to live in a house that was directly in front of the woods. Between the woods in the backyard and the exterior décor of the house itself, it gave off a very eerie feel to it. Halloween was approaching and her sons had wanted to do something memorable. My aunt, having always been a fan of Halloween, was to set up a series of clues that would lead her boys and their friends from the basement to the backyard.

            To make this Halloween prank even scarier, my aunt had enlisted the help of two of my uncles and my father. My aunt’s role in this prank was to guide the boys in the right direction. She held a walkie talkie that gave her a deep, scratchy voice and one of her kids had the other walkie talkie. In the basement was my uncle, who happened to be my aunt’s husband. He was in the corner lurking in the shadows holding a rumbling chainsaw. Following my uncle, was my aunt’s brother, Tommy. He was dressed as a very creepy old woman. Supposedly, his character had died years ago in the house and only one comes out on Halloween. The last piece of this scary puzzle was my father, and he had a mask.

            This wasn’t just any mask, not to a six year old. This mask was brownish in color, it had hair coming out every which way, teeth that were sharp and separated with eyes that were yellow with little pupils. About a week before the joke was to take place, right before Halloween, my father had a great idea that instead of just scaring his nephews and their friends, he would scare me as well.

            What does any typical six year old do at three o’clock on a weekday? I came home from school and my mother was in the kitchen and I had already known that my father was home; his car was in the driveway. My mom said that he was just about to go in the shower and that I could go say hi. My mother had no idea what my father was planning and I have to believe that if she did she wouldn’t have let him go through with it. Walking down the hallway to the bathroom was such a big mistake.

            I hadn’t even gotten half way to the bathroom when he jumped out of I front of me. All he was wearing was the mask and his grey shorts. He was crouched down, his knees were bent down close to touching the floor and his hands were in mid air flailing around. He made some sort of screeching scream. To say I was scared, would be an understatement. I panicked. I turned right around and ran back into the kitchen screaming. My mother turned around and looked at me with surprise, not knowing what was wrong. I was so scared that I literally fell to the floor hugging my knees to my chest.

My dad came running into the kitchen with the mask in his hand. “It’s me!” he yelled over and over and over, but I wasn’t having any of it. I was just laying on the floor crying, my mom holding me. All she could think about while holding my shaking little body was what I was thinking - monsters do exist.

            My father felt horrible about what he did to me. He didn’t think I would react the way that I did. I was so traumatized that my father had to take me to the toy store and buy me something. I can’t remember what it was, but I remember that he bought my forgiveness for sixty dollars. Of course, I did forgive him, but that didn’t change how I view things today. Because of my father and his “funny” joke, I am scarred for life.

            I have become so paranoid over the years because of this incident that I am now afraid of so many things. I had to sleep with a night light for so many years because I was afraid of the dark. Although I am still afraid of the dark, it’s not as bad as it used to be. I don’t watch a scary movies and I won’t stay in the house by myself when it’s dark out. For a long time when the sun would go down I had to have my sister come down that exact same hallway with me to go to my room just to put on my pajamas, I was scared to be alone. We still live in the same house and although some of my fears have subsided, there are still some that are there. This paranoia I have is still with me at twenty-two years old. I refuse to go up the fourteen steps that ascend to the second floor of my house when it’s dark; I refuse to go into the garage when it’s dark out; I won’t look out any windows for a long period of time when the sun sets because I am that paranoid and that scared that someone will jump out and scare me.

Regardless of my own little “Halloween Prank,” my cousins and their friends had their own experience of a lifetime. Two of my cousin’s friends got so scared that they ran home. By the end of the night, when the joke was over, my aunt’s kids and their friends said that they knew it was a joke and that they weren’t scared. I got so scared by a mask for this practical joke and fell to the floor; my cousins and their friends were a part of the entire prank, I don’t care what they say, they got scared. Because I was too young to stay home alone, I had to go to my aunt’s house with my family. I had no intention of going outside to partake in this little prank my aunt had created. I stayed inside with my mom where it was safe. 

It’s safe to say that I can now laugh at what my father did to me, but it is clear that I never got over it. My dad, unfortunately, still scares me from time to time, but he says he’s doing it to help me get rid of my fear. I may laugh when he scares me now, but that doesn’t change the fact that I get scared. Not only did that day scar me but it scarred my dad as well. To this day he still feels bad about what he did, but it’s been years since this horrific event and I like to think that we have both moved past this.