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A reporter often covers news stories for a tv news station or a newspaper. Often these people can be biased and even bothersome to people that they interview. They are only doing their jobs but it can be hazardass to people, such as when Princess Diana was killed running away from reporters. A reporter will often have cameramen with them and I picture them with a notepad and pen in their hands.

Posted By Rebecca On 05.30.2012 @ 5:52 pm

The starship engine powered down, its core turning from bright and vibrant glowing green, to a dim orange. “Something’s not right,” the engineer muttered under her breath, “Sensors aren’t picking up any problems.” She swiftly moved across the room to the panel that controlled plasma flow.

Posted By Rebecca On 05.15.2012 @ 3:01 pm

lending is like when someone b0rrows money from a bank or friend with the intent of paying them back whether it be with interest or without. like borrowing things from others with the intent of returning them.

Posted By Rebecca On 05.12.2012 @ 12:16 pm

Scorn looks a little like corn. when i think of the word scorn i picture something sharp and with wrinkles. My mother doesn’t scorn me, luckily, she wouldn’t do that. however, other moms do and I don’t like it. Mrs. Jafry does. I really don’t like Mrs. Jafry as much as I used to.

Posted By Rebecca On 04.23.2012 @ 7:00 pm

I had a pet swan once. Her feathers were silvery and smooth. Her name was Nancy and she sand sweet, sweet songs while floating on the pond in the afternoon sun.

Posted By Rebecca On 04.20.2012 @ 10:38 pm

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Posted By Rebecca On 04.19.2012 @ 6:10 pm

She ran up the road in a crazy temper, her strong-willed demeanor showing through her heavy steps and increasing expression of determination and frustration. Her brows furrowed and the argument with her mother played over in her mind. “Why do you have to be so antagonistic?” her mother had asked. Laretta did not know the answer to that question.

Posted By Rebecca On 04.06.2012 @ 8:09 am

On rainy days, it’s never really sure if I’m going to love or hate the rain. Sometimes it’s just suffocating and gloomy and generally sad and grey and dreary. But other times, it’s like a sort of catharsis to stand in the rain and feel a hundred little droplets of water coming in contact with you.

Posted By Rebecca On 03.30.2012 @ 1:03 pm

If you see a particular part of the world that you like, alert a member of the cabin crew and one of us will fit you with a parachute and chuck you out. Then you can plummet to the ground and either splash or crash into that particularly likable part of the earth.

Posted By Rebecca On 03.29.2012 @ 11:44 am

The catchers were quick, so she had to be quicker. But how can you outrun something that isn’t even there? The only way is to not be there yourself– to run so fast that you’re essentially never there at all, or at least not long enough to leave a trace. To make sure no one ever remembers you, to never be caught, you can never been seen and never be noticed.

Posted By Rebecca On 03.27.2012 @ 11:17 am

I feel like I’ve been drifting for a long time now. Drifting straight through life. I can’t remember what being truly happy is, or how to keep it for more than a few minutes. I keep thinking about the accident. I keep thinking about death. It seems so exciting. My life is so boring. I’m ready to get out of here but I want so much more than just to get out of here.

Posted By Rebecca On 03.26.2012 @ 5:29 pm

I need more of one, maybe. I’m really good at keeping my emotions inside, but I don’t tell other people when they make me angry, or sad, or whatever. I beat myself up about stuff, and maybe it’s not even my fault, but maybe it is. I don’t know. Getting angry never solved anything, right?

Posted By Rebecca On 03.25.2012 @ 3:31 pm

I wish I could be longer. I’ve always envied long tempers. But the smallest thing can set me off. I hate it when people cut me off. I wonder if there is a way to make me longer. I wonder….

Posted By Rebecca On 03.25.2012 @ 11:21 am

As she stared at the residue in her eye lids, left over mascara from the night before, she smiled.

Posted By Rebecca On 03.24.2012 @ 8:11 am

Marty took a step back and looked at the trunk. So many things, so many memories..their entire life, down to this moment and this trunk. Tommy’s Diapers, her clothes, a few photos…that was all that was left. But sometimes, she mused, that’s all you need. The one you love and a few precious memories were all you needed to build a new life somewhere better.

Posted By Rebecca On 03.22.2012 @ 3:41 pm

Little girls who have no desires of their own. Glitz and glam and sparkles they are not welcome. Girls and even boys who are forced to live out the dreams of their overweight, self-loathing mothers. They deserve better. We are all human. Maybe it is their choice but I believe in a childhood, in a young life that gets to play and frolic and sing. They are joyous. They should not be fake or have a mask of makeup; let them live.

Posted By Rebecca On 03.19.2012 @ 3:35 pm

Belief is when someone believes something. Some times it’s hard to believe but for me, all you have to do is think about it. Think about it very hard and you’ll believe it. Sometimes it’s really easy. Gullible people have a lot of belief

Posted By Rebecca On 03.12.2012 @ 5:47 pm

Brunch is something that no 2 men can have together, it was the name of my childhood pet and it is very important to the balance of the world. If one does not have breakfast but it is not time for lunch but at the same time too late to eat before lunch brunch is an important median to cancel out the need for an extra meal, combining breakfast and lunch to the phenomenon that is Brunch.

Posted By Rebecca On 03.08.2012 @ 6:55 pm

A demonstration is an example of a certain skill or sunject which you are talking about. It is usually a performace to an audience of watching people to allow them to improve their understadning of the topic of conversation. For example: You may be wondering about how juggling works, well here is Carol, from the circus here to demostrate juggling! *Cue a juggling demonstration* Audience: Aah, so that’s what juggling is.

Posted By rebecca On 03.08.2012 @ 9:55 am

Am I lound and clear? or am I breaking up? Am I still your charm? or am I just bad luck? Are we getting closer or are we just getting more lost? I’ll show you mine if you show me yours first. Let’s compare scars I’ll tell youwhose is worse. Lets sun write these pages in the place of our old hearts. We live on front porches and swing life away. We get by just fine here on minimum wage. If love is a labor I’ll slave till the end. I won’t cross the streets till you hold my hand.

Posted By Rebecca On 03.07.2012 @ 8:45 am

The little sat on the swing in her town’s park and stayed as still as stone, listening to the wind. When it began to pick up, her swing moved forward ever so slightly causing a slow rocking motion.

Posted By Rebecca On 03.06.2012 @ 6:12 pm

just sit on a swing, let the air brush past you. let it take you higher and higher. forget life. enjoy the little things in life and just swing. it will clear you head and you’ll feel like a child again…

Posted By rebecca On 03.06.2012 @ 12:39 pm

I don’t like professionals because professionals are so professional and I’m not a professional so it makes me sad about other people being professionals. It is a very hard topic to speak about because I am not a professional but I wish to be a professional. Are you a professional because if you are I don’t like you very much.

Posted By Rebecca On 03.05.2012 @ 6:05 pm

Someone who does something in a formal, professional, ethical manner. People who know what they are doing and are great at what they do. Dressing in a suit, or a uniform, or outfit relating to what you are doing. Doing it all the way.

Posted By Rebecca On 03.05.2012 @ 1:55 pm

Suits and heels. Planners and ink pens. Deadlines and stress. Professional. You go with it because you are sophisticated and intelligent. You are dedicated and determined. Professional. The word repeats in your head. You are professional.

Posted By Rebecca On 03.05.2012 @ 12:41 pm

I was born in lonstulh but i don’t believe this is my hometown. Rather, I feel inclined to call Huntington WV as my city, my town, my love. Nostalgia is associated with this place and I want deeply to return. There is something so magical about this little known place. Most people believe WV is a dead or decaying state but it’s the place where i learned to ride a bike, to fall in love, and to dream for a big life.

Posted By Rebecca On 03.04.2012 @ 12:50 pm

Times beofre, their intuition had led the way for them. But that night, the lantern led the way. They walked slowly behind it as it bobbed ahead of them, casting shadows on the road. It was a beacon in the darkness. Yet, if it was a path for them, so was it for others.

Posted By Rebecca On 03.02.2012 @ 9:44 am

The lantern cafe. A cafe we have in school. They don’t make the best drinks. but like, when you try one, you’ll like it. but they get old very fast. they charge a shit load for whip cream. we’re college kids, we dont just have a bunch of extra money laying around. its annoying. the UC already rapes us of any extra monies as it is. it’s fucked up. i just don’t really know.

Posted By rebecca On 03.01.2012 @ 9:58 pm

light bright yellow glow warm hard bulb tall small hot fire heat

Posted By Rebecca On 03.01.2012 @ 3:48 pm

I think of sports losses. And people who are no longer alive. I also think how losing the tumor has changed my life.

Posted By Rebecca On 02.23.2012 @ 7:41 pm