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   <title>Scarlet Pimpernel</title>
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   <id>tag:blogs.qc.cuny.edu,2007:/blogs/0906N_1432/011/54</id>
   <updated>2007-05-25T21:47:05Z</updated>
   <subtitle>Dream Blog for English 399W</subtitle>
   <generator uri="http://www.sixapart.com/movabletype/">Movable Type Enterprise 1.02</generator>

<entry>
   <title>The Closing of the Blogs</title>
   <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/2007/05/the_closing_of_the_blogs.html" />
   <id>tag:blogs.qc.cuny.edu,2007:/blogs/0906N_1432/011//54.2592</id>
   
   <published>2007-05-18T19:10:06Z</published>
   <updated>2007-05-25T21:47:05Z</updated>
   
   <summary>Well, it&apos;s finally over. No matter how much work these blogs were, I&apos;m still going to miss writing them. I mean, we&apos;ve been writing on these blogs since August and it has basically become a part of my academic life....</summary>
   <author>
      <name>SP</name>
      
   </author>
   
   
   <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/">
      Well, it&apos;s finally over.  No matter how much work these blogs were, I&apos;m still going to miss writing them.  I mean, we&apos;ve been writing on these blogs since August and it has basically become a part of my academic life. Well, as a person who never really remembered her dreams (I can see why now), I am now more alert and can actually remember my dreams.  It&apos;s quite exciting.  Anyway, I wish everyone the best in the future.  I had a great time.  I&apos;ll miss you guys.  

~Melody 
      
   </content>
</entry>
<entry>
   <title>Wedding</title>
   <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/2007/05/wedding.html" />
   <id>tag:blogs.qc.cuny.edu,2007:/blogs/0906N_1432/011//54.2591</id>
   
   <published>2007-05-18T18:57:45Z</published>
   <updated>2007-05-18T19:08:42Z</updated>
   
   <summary>I&apos;m at a wedding, but I don&apos;t know any of the people there. We are in a large reception room and the bride and groom are on stage. The bridal party start to chase each other while on the stage,...</summary>
   <author>
      <name>SP</name>
      
   </author>
   
   
   <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/">
      I&apos;m at a wedding, but I don&apos;t know any of the people there.  We are in a large reception room and the bride and groom are on stage.  The bridal party start to chase each other while on the stage, when the stage suddenly collapses.  Everyone starts running to help the people out of the collapsed wood.  The bride and groom are fine, but a bridesmaid has a piece of glass sticking out of her stomach.  She is bleeding a lot and people are walking around not calling 911.  There is a guy who is standing next to her trying to do something, but it is obviously not working.  At this time, I spot my sister across the room, and she is wearing her white coat.  I push her towards the lady, but all she does is take her blood pressure.  The lady dies, but no one seems really interested.  I walk away from the crowd, when I realize I have a piece of glass stuck in my stomach as well.  
      However, it does not seem as if it is in very deep, so I pull it out.  The cut starts to bleed, so I look for a bathroom.  The bathroom has a glass medicine cabinet, so I take out peroxide and a cotton ball and begin to wipe the cut.  The cut where the glass was is very shallow, so I think everything is fine, until I realize that the cut extends all the way to my right, and the cut is so deep there, that I can see the layers of fat under the skin.  I start to panic, and try to hold the skin together so no internal organs fall out.  I walk around, trying to find someone to call 911.  I finally see my cousin, and she does call, but they say they can&apos;t send over a doctor until Tuesday.  I go outside, and get on a bus and tell the driver to take me to the hospital.  We get to the hospital, but the dream skips and I am walking outside.  I lift up my shirt and the cut is still there but stitched up.  I suddenly realize that my bag is missing and I have to go find it.  I&apos;m looking around, and on my back is a very heavy bag that I can&apos;t seem to put down.  That&apos;s it.  
   </content>
</entry>
<entry>
   <title>Meltdown</title>
   <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/2007/04/dream_10.html" />
   <id>tag:blogs.qc.cuny.edu,2007:/blogs/0906N_1432/011//54.2341</id>
   
   <published>2007-04-25T16:02:50Z</published>
   <updated>2007-04-25T16:21:13Z</updated>
   
   <summary>I&apos;m sitting in class waiting to get a paper I&apos;d written back. My professor walks in and starts to hand out the papers. I&apos;m really nervous because I know that this paper was complete garbage, and that I was going...</summary>
   <author>
      <name>SP</name>
      
   </author>
   
   
   <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/">
      I&apos;m sitting in class waiting to get a paper I&apos;d written back.  My professor walks in and starts to hand out the papers.  I&apos;m really nervous because I know that this paper was complete garbage, and that I was going to get a bad grade.  The prof. finally comes to give me my paper back, but before he does, he says, &quot;You had a meltdown on this paper.  I won&apos;t grade it until you rewrite this.&quot;  Then he starts to laugh in this twisted fashion (Head thrown back, cracking up).  I get really angry, but take my paper and sit down anyway.  

I was actually expecting a bad grade on a paper I wrote.  One professor actually told me this a couple of years ago on a paper I wrote.

      
   </content>
</entry>
<entry>
   <title>Water, Water</title>
   <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/2007/04/dream_9.html" />
   <id>tag:blogs.qc.cuny.edu,2007:/blogs/0906N_1432/011//54.2340</id>
   
   <published>2007-04-25T16:02:42Z</published>
   <updated>2007-04-25T16:12:17Z</updated>
   
   <summary>I&apos;m in my cousin&apos;s apartment. It&apos;s raining outside and it is kind of dark inside. We are watching tv when I hear the sound of dripping water. I look around to see if I see anything, but can&apos;t find the...</summary>
   <author>
      <name>SP</name>
      
   </author>
   
   
   <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/">
      I&apos;m in my cousin&apos;s apartment.  It&apos;s raining outside and it is kind of dark inside.  We are watching tv when I hear the sound of dripping water.  I look around to see if I see anything, but can&apos;t find the source.  I get up and go to the kitchen to see if the faucet it dripping, but it isn&apos;t.  I go to the bathroom to check, but there is still nothing.  I go back to the living room and start to look around when I notice that water is starting to run down the walls.  At first it is only a little water, so we get paper towels and start to wipe it up.  However, after awhile, the water is pouring down the walls, and the apartment is starting to flood.  We get buckets to try to take the water out, but the water is coming in too fast.  The water is up to our knees before we decide that we have to get out of there.  It takes awhile to get to the front door because of the resistance of the water. We finally make it to the door. I open the door, but don&apos;t remember the rest of the dream.  
      
   </content>
</entry>
<entry>
   <title>Broken</title>
   <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/2007/04/dream_8.html" />
   <id>tag:blogs.qc.cuny.edu,2007:/blogs/0906N_1432/011//54.2339</id>
   
   <published>2007-04-25T16:02:34Z</published>
   <updated>2007-04-25T16:20:41Z</updated>
   
   <summary>This one is really short and boring. I&apos;m in my room watching tv, when I decide that it is time to deflate the air mattress. I get the pump from the closet and attach it to the bed. I plug...</summary>
   <author>
      <name>SP</name>
      
   </author>
   
   
   <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/">
      This one is really short and boring.  I&apos;m in my room watching tv, when I decide that it is time to deflate the air mattress.  I get the pump from the closet and attach it to the bed.  I plug it in and turn on the switch, but nothing happens.  I unplug it, and then try again, but still nothing happens.  I detach the pump and shake it around to see what is wrong with it.  I start hitting it against the floor (my real-life solution to fixing machinery).  I plug it in again, and this time it works. The pump is making the sound as if it were working, but the bed is not delflating.  I get really angry, and toss the pump across the room.  I can&apos;t figure out how to deflate the bed, so I sit down on the matress and try to think. That&apos;s it.  
      
   </content>
</entry>
<entry>
   <title>Reflection on Web Project </title>
   <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/2007/04/reflection_on_web_project.html" />
   <id>tag:blogs.qc.cuny.edu,2007:/blogs/0906N_1432/011//54.2338</id>
   
   <published>2007-04-25T16:02:19Z</published>
   <updated>2007-04-25T16:14:40Z</updated>
   
   <summary>Well, the website has been going well. Cutting from the essay is not as bad as I thought it was going to be. Finding pictures has been a problem because a lot of the pictures I do find are completely...</summary>
   <author>
      <name>SP</name>
      
   </author>
   
   
   <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/">
      Well, the website has been going well.  Cutting from the essay is not as bad as I thought it was going to be. Finding pictures has been a problem because a lot of the pictures I do find are completely busted, and don&apos;t want to put them up.  It&apos;s getting there.  
      
   </content>
</entry>
<entry>
   <title>Test</title>
   <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/2007/04/dream_7.html" />
   <id>tag:blogs.qc.cuny.edu,2007:/blogs/0906N_1432/011//54.2076</id>
   
   <published>2007-04-08T00:57:33Z</published>
   <updated>2007-04-08T01:24:17Z</updated>
   
   <summary>I&apos;m walking down a large corridor in P Hall. I&apos;m walking really fast because I have a test in a couple of minutes and I can&apos;t be late. I go into one of the huge lecture halls and see one...</summary>
   <author>
      <name>SP</name>
      
   </author>
   
   
   <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/">
      I&apos;m walking down a large corridor in P Hall.  I&apos;m walking really fast because I have a test in a couple of minutes and I can&apos;t be late.  I go into one of the huge lecture halls and see one of my Sec. Ed. professors administering the exam.  I tell her that I am in the next room, after she tells me that I am late.  The test in the next room has not started, so I sit down all the way in the back because there is only one seat left.  I have to sit squished between these really big guys.  I drop my bag on the floor when I sit down, and my pen falls out of my bag.  I try to get it but can&apos;t reach because I am stuck in my seat.  My professor comes in and says that we can start the exam.  The booklets are handed out and I look at it.  It&apos;s an English vocabulary exam.  I look down in my bag to try to get my calculator (Yeah, I have no idea why).  I raise my hand to ask her if we can use our calculators on the exam, but the dream ends there.  
      
   </content>
</entry>
<entry>
   <title>Writing</title>
   <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/2007/04/dream_6.html" />
   <id>tag:blogs.qc.cuny.edu,2007:/blogs/0906N_1432/011//54.2075</id>
   
   <published>2007-04-08T00:57:26Z</published>
   <updated>2007-04-08T01:18:39Z</updated>
   
   <summary>I&apos;m sitting at my writing desk. I take out my fountain pen and begin to fill it with ink. I fill it up and pull out a blank sheet of paper. I put the pen to the page, but no...</summary>
   <author>
      <name>SP</name>
      
   </author>
   
   
   <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/">
      I&apos;m sitting at my writing desk.  I take out my fountain pen and begin to fill it with ink.  I fill it up and pull out a blank sheet of paper.  I put the pen to the page, but no ink comes out.  I start to press the pen harder against the page, but still the page remains blank.  I touch the tip and it leaves an ink stain on the finger.  I remember being relieved thinking I could write now.  However, once I put the pen to the paper, the pen stops working.  I start to get really angry and start digging the pen into the paper in order to make it work.  The paper is shredded by now, but I&apos;m still scratching the pen against the desk.  I remember thinking that I have to finish writing an essay before time runs out.  That&apos;s it.  
      
   </content>
</entry>
<entry>
   <title>Teeth</title>
   <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/2007/04/dream_5.html" />
   <id>tag:blogs.qc.cuny.edu,2007:/blogs/0906N_1432/011//54.2074</id>
   
   <published>2007-04-08T00:57:18Z</published>
   <updated>2007-04-08T01:15:09Z</updated>
   
   <summary>I&apos;m sitting at the dining room table and am eating a giant sandwich. I&apos;m enjoying it quite a lot, when I hear one of my teeth crack. The table is made of glass, so I look to see if my...</summary>
   <author>
      <name>SP</name>
      
   </author>
   
   
   <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/">
      I&apos;m sitting at the dining room table and am eating a giant sandwich.  I&apos;m enjoying it quite a lot, when I hear one of my teeth crack.  The table is made of glass, so I look to see if my tooth is ok.  I see that my mouth is dripping blood and one of my front teeth is gone.  I get up and go to the wall mirror.  There is a small fragment of tooth left and the gum is bleeding a lot.  I get a napkin and shove it into my mouth. The stops the bleeding, but I can&apos;t get the taste of blood out of my mouth.  It starts to make me really nauseous.  That&apos;s all I remember.  
      
   </content>
</entry>
<entry>
   <title>Reflection on the Honors Exam </title>
   <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/2007/04/reflection_on_honors_exam.html" />
   <id>tag:blogs.qc.cuny.edu,2007:/blogs/0906N_1432/011//54.2073</id>
   
   <published>2007-04-08T00:57:03Z</published>
   <updated>2007-04-08T01:11:32Z</updated>
   
   <summary>Well, at least it is over. It wasn&apos;t as bad as I thought it was going to be. I was able to recognize a lot of the pieces, which was a good things considering if I hadn&apos;t I would have...</summary>
   <author>
      <name>SP</name>
      
   </author>
   
   
   <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/">
      Well, at least it is over.  It wasn&apos;t as bad as I thought it was going to be.  I was able to recognize a lot of the pieces, which was a good things considering if I hadn&apos;t I would have bombed.  Some of the selections were easy to recognize because I had seen them before in previous classes.  I would say that I did a lot better on the ID section than I did on the Poetry essay.  I think I wrote that &quot;mundane&quot; topic essay, which I pretty much knew I would do before I got up to it.  I&apos;m not very good at writing about poetry, and I know this is one of my weaknesses, so I already was prepared for the worst.  I mean it wasn&apos;t a horror, but I tried my best and that is all I could do.  
      
   </content>
</entry>
<entry>
   <title>Reflection on Sample Essay #2</title>
   <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/2007/04/reflections_on_2.html" />
   <id>tag:blogs.qc.cuny.edu,2007:/blogs/0906N_1432/011//54.2072</id>
   
   <published>2007-04-08T00:56:46Z</published>
   <updated>2007-04-08T01:00:52Z</updated>
   
   <summary>I thought this exam went even better than the first. Though I was able to recognize a lot of authors and the names of the works, I still had trouble pinning down the exact time they were written. I mean,...</summary>
   <author>
      <name>SP</name>
      
   </author>
   
   
   <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/">
      I thought this exam went even better than the first.  Though I was able to recognize a lot of authors and the names of the works, I still had trouble pinning down the exact time they were written.  I mean, whats the really difference between a century or two anyway? = )
       I&apos;m just hoping that I will be able to recognize authors on the actual exam because without knowing the work, I am almost completely lost.  I&apos;m not that good at figuring out when a piece was written without knowing it.  There are so many things that can make the piece deceptive, which is a problem.  But, all I can do is hope for the best.  
   </content>
</entry>
<entry>
   <title>Throwdown </title>
   <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/2007/04/dream_4.html" />
   <id>tag:blogs.qc.cuny.edu,2007:/blogs/0906N_1432/011//54.2071</id>
   
   <published>2007-04-08T00:56:30Z</published>
   <updated>2007-04-08T01:06:23Z</updated>
   
   <summary>I&apos;m sitting on the floor in my room with my cousin. I&apos;m reading a book, which is actually quite heavy. I start talking to her about what we are going to watch on t.v. tonight. She suggests a movie that...</summary>
   <author>
      <name>SP</name>
      
   </author>
   
   
   <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/">
      I&apos;m sitting on the floor in my room with my cousin.  I&apos;m reading a book, which is actually quite heavy.  I start talking to her about what we are going to watch on t.v. tonight.  She suggests a movie that I&apos;ve seen a couple of times, but have never mentioned to her and didn&apos;t know she knew about it.  I get up and sit at my desk and begin to tidy up.  I move some of my papers, and find that the movie is sitting on my desk.  I get really angry and want to throw something at her. 
      The trusty (extremely heavy by this point) book is still in my lap so I throw it straight into her face.  I hits her right in the eye.  She gets up and starts yelling at me and I start to yell at her.  My sister comes in and gets mad at me because my cousin is a guest and I shouldn&apos;t throw things at her.  I remember the fight getting worse and someone falling down the stairs, but I don&apos;t remember who.  That&apos;s it.  
   </content>
</entry>
<entry>
   <title>First Sample Exam</title>
   <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/2007/03/first_sample_exam.html" />
   <id>tag:blogs.qc.cuny.edu,2007:/blogs/0906N_1432/011//54.1811</id>
   
   <published>2007-03-08T15:57:23Z</published>
   <updated>2007-03-08T16:02:57Z</updated>
   
   <summary>The exam wasn&apos;t as bad as I thought it was going to be. I was pretty sure I was going to sit there and not be able to recognize any of the passages. Well, I think I did pretty well...</summary>
   <author>
      <name>SP</name>
      
   </author>
   
   
   <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/">
      The exam wasn&apos;t as bad as I thought it was going to be.  I was pretty sure I was going to sit there and not be able to recognize any of the passages.  Well, I think I did pretty well considering that I haven&apos;t studied at all, which is pretty good I think. 
      After taking this exam I now know which sections I really need to study.  American Literature is something that I haven&apos;t really read a lot of, and now I have to really focus on this.  Well, I&apos;m gonna keep studying and see how I do next week.  
   </content>
</entry>
<entry>
   <title>Paid</title>
   <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/2007/03/paid.html" />
   <id>tag:blogs.qc.cuny.edu,2007:/blogs/0906N_1432/011//54.1797</id>
   
   <published>2007-03-07T00:00:02Z</published>
   <updated>2007-03-08T15:57:11Z</updated>
   
   <summary>This one is really short. I get my pay check from my (ice queen) boss. I walk outside, but instead of going to the bank, I go to the bookstore in order to put it into my bank account. I...</summary>
   <author>
      <name>SP</name>
      
   </author>
   
   
   <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/">
      This one is really short.  I get my pay check from my (ice queen) boss.  I walk outside, but instead of going to the bank, I go to the bookstore in order to put it into my bank account.  I remember signing my name to the back of the check and hand it to the girl behind the register.  I ask her if I can put the check in my account here, and she says yes.  I wait for her to give me the slip back, and I spend time looking around the piles of books while I wait.  I pick up the book I am currently reading (Through A Glass Darkly), but the title isn&apos;t there.  I recognize the book by the cover.  That&apos;s it.  
      
   </content>
</entry>
<entry>
   <title>Writing about Poetry</title>
   <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/2007/03/writing_aout_poetry.html" />
   <id>tag:blogs.qc.cuny.edu,2007:/blogs/0906N_1432/011//54.1796</id>
   
   <published>2007-03-06T23:59:46Z</published>
   <updated>2007-03-08T15:56:53Z</updated>
   
   <summary>Writing about poetry is makes me want to scream....</summary>
   <author>
      <name>SP</name>
      
   </author>
   
   
   <content type="html" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/011/">
      Writing about poetry is makes me want to scream.
      It is harder than writing about literature, and there is a lot more terminology you have to remember in order to write about it well.  However, as we learned in class, it is important to look deeper into the meaning of the poem and not to make connections that are shallow.  Since, the test is going to be timed, I think the rules about reading poetry are going to come in handy.  Hopefully the tips and essays we have read will come in handy when it comes time for us to write on the test. 
   </content>
</entry>

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