.... this was an activity that each of us would be learning for the first time together. We were placed in the beginner group which introduced us to the sport and taught us the basic skills. My problem was that I didn't want to learn the introductory aspect of tennis, I wanted to start playing the actual game. While Suzanne and Erin were diligently practicing their forehand and backhand motions, I took private lessons focusing on my serve. Glancing their way, I would see them laughing and chatting as they walked to the clubhouse for a snack during a break. By expending all my energy on the game, I had hoped that my friends would respect my ability and that it would bring us ....

.... even in the morning. The way that curly almost black hair just touched her shoulders. The casual pose she held sitting on the edge of the bed in that worn Lakers T-shirt. I took her hand and pulled her a little closer admiring her mischievous smile. She wanted to say something but she waited for me to speak first. I kissed her hand repeatedly and looking into her dark brown eyes I said slowly overenunciating each word: "I...love...you." Her smile got wider as she replied. "You better. Don't you dare flake on me now." She lay down beside me and kissed me gently wrapping her arms around me. I slid my hands inside her T-shirt running them up and down her back and ....

.... an offsides trap. Both teams were in a struggle and needed to score with time running out. The ball was hit into our offensive end and I went for it. I deeked out the first player and now it was one on one with the goalie. My mind was going crazy.. should I shoot it now… should I wait… should I try dribbling by him… Then Baaammm I was on the ground and I heard the whistle blow. I saw all the parents going crazy and my coach was in the air. Did I score…? Then I saw the referee signal a penalty kick. My coach pointed to me…I knew what I had to do. There was only about 2 minutes left so I knew if I made this, I would be the hero and my team would win. I was ready to t ....

.... Christmas present. He tried to keep living this life for as long as he could but he was not sure how long he could keep it up. If he were to ever be caught Lord only knows how long he would be locked away for. Coming from a small town nobody was used to all the buzz going around. It made Billy nervous. That was all everyone talked about on the small shaded streets of Prince Rupert. "Billy, Billy!" Henry yelled. Snapping out of his dream world Billy relied "What?" "Go down town and pick up some eggs would ya?" "Yeah sure Dad." As he walked down the street Billy pondered if he was really doing the right thing. He had convinced himself that sin ....

.... the hunter was always only a few paces behind, pursuing relentlessly. The boy's clothes was torn and bloody, hanging in strips from his bruised body. Shurbs with thorny stems and low hanging branches slowed his escape, cutting him and barring his way. Making him more desperate, adding to his weariness. His lungs were burning, he was out of breath, the boy wanted to give up, his legs however denied him. They continued moving and running. His body was fatigued, his head ached, his muscles throbbed. Pain, his body cried out Pain, stop! He could not stop. It was gaining, only a few inches! Soon blood would be spilled! Blood will be spilled to appease the appetite ....

.... Over the next couple of weeks, I ruminated on what life would be like in India. My brother, who already attended an Indian boarding school, told me in scratchy long-distance telephone conversations how great life was in India at his boarding school. "We have the best futbol (soccer) field in all of India," he said. "It has an electronic scoring board, and the surface is fluorescent blue astroturf." This was an enormous motivation factor, due to the fact that soccer is my favorite sport. "And the food is delectable," he went on, "They serve chicken curry with juicy vegetables four out of the seven days of the week." I ate chicken curry every chance I got, ....

.... insatiable appetite for new challenges. His success in life, for me, acts as a guide which is use to lead me through my own life. Coming to this country at the fragile age of five, not knowing one word of English, he has become a well known figure in his field of work. Armenia, the origin of my family, is where my father was born seventy-seven years ago. His very poor family fled from their town, which was in Turkey, to Everett, Massachusetts in nineteen twenty-eight. They lived several years in this suburb of Boston, until they were able to move to Haverhill to start a chicken farm. My father's journey began the first day of school when he was sent home becaus ....

.... for each week. The schedule included an activity for Monday from 8:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m., Thursday from 4:00 p.m. to 11:00 p.m., and Friday from 8:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. This was a very difficult assignment. I had to plan fun events, but also make them very inexpensive. This was an interesting task that allowed me for the first time to use many of the skills I had learned in my Organizational Communication classes. I had to negotiate prices for admission, and figure out transportation and food cost. It also taught me a lot about planning and time organization. I had to plan months in advance, and fill in every second of the day with activities to keep the students busy. ....