Good Intentions Ruined by Boring Topics :: Personal Narrative Writing

Good Intentions Ruined by Boring Topics I cannot believe that I got stuck with Rene Descartes for my Senior see to it I said to Megan as we walked through the hallway to our ninth period class. Megan and I had been friends ever since the second grade, and often vented to each other when we were upset. Oh blaspheme me, I feel really sorry for you, she replied with a sympathetic grin. She however, had one of the best topics, Elvis. That couldnt possibly be very difficult. I must admit, I was beginning to feel a little jealous. A few weeks before our topics were assigned we were instructed that our Senior Projects would be a lengthy research paper transaction with one of the top one hundred lot of the twentieth century. I sat daydreaming of the people I believed would probably be on the list, fine-looking movie stars and rock stars. My ideas of the one hundred most influential people of the century and The History Channels list of the most influential people defiantly sha red different opinions. I am sure that the other students in the classroom at that time shared the same ideas that I had. This would be our very last high give lessons project, the very project that weve anticipated all year long. For this last assignment, I wanted to write to impress. I wanted to show not only my classmates, but also my corky English teacher just what I was made of. I wanted to write a paper so great, that for years to come, people could examine my writing as a perfect example. Those aspirations were completely lost when we were finally assigned our topics. I remember the day well. It was a bright sunny day in late April. It was getting to the time of year when seniors began having meetings every week to discuss the future class trip to New York City, class advisors were running through the blue-gray hallways to measure all of the upcoming graduates for their gowns, and the attitudes of all the students and even teachers were upbeat. The seniors espec ially were excited for the end of the school year. The bell to eighth period rang. We all scurried out of the lunch room like a herd of cattle.