<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948174</id><updated>2011-07-14T17:34:55.760-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TazD</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>TazD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02913961439038305312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948174.post-114711631639907928</id><published>2006-05-08T12:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T12:25:16.416-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Role models</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I think that everyone in the world should have a role model whether it is themselves or someone else. A role model is someone that you look up to and they are someone who’s achievements you admire. A role model is what helps a person set their goal and restrictions for themselves.&lt;br /&gt;Think of how your life would be if you had no role model. How would you have known what you wanted to do when you were a child if you have no one to look at and follow in his or her footsteps? Having a role model creates a person’s personality. For example, Dr. Martin Luther King’s role model was Mohandas Gandhi. Gandhi was a very religious and political. He was a Christ-like figure who was fighting against the British for India’s independence, without violence. Martin took what Gandhi did to get his country’s independence into consideration when he was standing up for his people. The way he thinks, Martin, came from how he admired Gandhi’s actions.&lt;br /&gt;For a child to have a role model is very necessary in everyone’s childhood. Looking up to some one always leads to you trying to find yourself and trying to find out what you really want to achieve in life. This is a key reason why role models are important to children. Another key reason why role models are important to children is because this also shows a child right from wrong. If a child sees his role model doing something that makes everyone happy and proud of him or her, then that will be what they would also want to do. Now after seeing the great deed that their role model did and they see someone doing the opposite that makes everyone unhappy and sad, then he will know to follow the footsteps of his role model instead of the " trouble- maker".&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, if the child has a good role model they will try to stop the people who are following the footsteps of a "Trouble- maker" role model. Then they just might be someone else’s role model one day and have a young child make a difference in some one else’s life just as they did. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948174-114711631639907928?l=tazjaz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/feeds/114711631639907928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948174&amp;postID=114711631639907928' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/114711631639907928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/114711631639907928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/2006/05/role-models.html' title='Role models'/><author><name>TazD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02913961439038305312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948174.post-114668445031327896</id><published>2006-05-03T12:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T12:42:57.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rebellion</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;An act of rebellion in my life that I felt was necessary was when a couple of my peers tried to influence me to do something that I knew were wrong. They kept on saying, "Come on lets do it. It will be fun." I decided that what they wanted me to do was very much against everything I believe in. I had to rebellion. I tried explaining to them that what they wanted to do was wrong on so many levels. They didn't want to hear it. They kept on trying to convince me to do it. I stuck to my decision. No matter what they said my answer remained," NO!" Another time that I rebelled was when my mother told me that I couldn't go to a party because she felt that I was not responsible enough. I felt like my freedom was being kept hostage and that she did not trust to do anything. I wanted to prove her wrong. So I decided to find a ride to and from the party. I tried to make sure everything was in place to show that I was responsible. I went to the party without my mother knowing and without her permission. After I came home from the party, my mother was sitting there by the door with disappointment expressed all on her face. Before she could say a word, I told her how I planned everything out, that made me responsible, and I explained to her that if she just would have trusted me to go to the party I would not have had to sneak out. Her and me came to an agreement that she would trust me. So, my rebelling worked.&lt;br /&gt;If some one rebels for a good reason and cause it is very necessary. Everyone has the right to stand up for what they believe in, whether of not someone else agrees with them. So if you believe in something never lets any one change your mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948174-114668445031327896?l=tazjaz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/feeds/114668445031327896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948174&amp;postID=114668445031327896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/114668445031327896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/114668445031327896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/2006/05/rebellion.html' title='Rebellion'/><author><name>TazD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02913961439038305312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948174.post-114659822805920334</id><published>2006-05-02T12:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-02T12:30:28.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An educated person</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;My definition of an educated person is a person who is intelligent, and actually uses their intelligence, and not just waste it on something useless like trying to count how many jelly beans in a jar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;To me an educated person doesn't always have to be book smart but they also can be street smart. A person who is street smart knows how to survive on the streets an dthey know how the streets work. Basically, an educated person is anyone that can teach another individual what they know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;People who aren't educated are sometimes described as ditsy, dumb, stupid, ignorant, or nieve. I think nieve is a good word to describe an uneducated person. The other words are usually used as insults. I think nieve means not knowing. Most non-educated  people are nieve.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;If you have a skill that you are good at and can teach someone else you are educated. If you can teach, you are educated.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948174-114659822805920334?l=tazjaz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/feeds/114659822805920334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948174&amp;postID=114659822805920334' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/114659822805920334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/114659822805920334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/2006/05/educated-person.html' title='An educated person'/><author><name>TazD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02913961439038305312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948174.post-114659731012506928</id><published>2006-05-02T12:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-02T12:15:10.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Individuality</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I do consider myself to be in this category. Everybody in this world is different, no two people are the same. For someone to think they actually have the right to judge someone else, to tell them what is normal, is unbelievable. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Personally, I think that it is great for people to be their own person. Your personality makes you who you are. I believe that no one knows what is normal because everything and everyone is different. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;The pleasure that comes with being an individual is that in the process of being an individual, you begin to find your self and really know who you are. The pains that come with being an individual are since people are so stereotypical they begin to classify you as weird, or strange, just because you aren't like everyone else.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948174-114659731012506928?l=tazjaz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/feeds/114659731012506928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948174&amp;postID=114659731012506928' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/114659731012506928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/114659731012506928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/2006/05/individuality.html' title='Individuality'/><author><name>TazD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02913961439038305312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948174.post-114651257726128784</id><published>2006-05-01T12:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-01T12:42:57.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I think that the American family has become a dying institiution. I would say this because if you really look at our world today, families that include a mother, a father, a sister, and a brother, are very rare to find. Most families consists of a single mother with children, a single father with children, or a child living with someone else other than their parents.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948174-114651257726128784?l=tazjaz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/feeds/114651257726128784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948174&amp;postID=114651257726128784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/114651257726128784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/114651257726128784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-think-that-american-family-has.html' title=''/><author><name>TazD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02913961439038305312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948174.post-114651184229743111</id><published>2006-05-01T12:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T12:37:07.100-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Opposition</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I do agree with the opinion that people learn more from people who disagree with you rather than people who agree with you. I think that you can't really learn from anyone who agrees with you because no new information is being added to the conversation. Both of you will have the same views and all you will do is agree. When someone disagrees with you on a subject, you usually start to debate and share the different point of views that you both have. When a person disagrees with you they try to defend the statement they made and when they do so you will have a chance to observe the situation from that person's point of view.Personally, when I made a decision to state that school rules were getting too strict, someone shared with me their thoughts. They told me that if there weren't any rules everyone in the school would be wild and uncontrolled. Even though I stuck with my opinion, I still learned how that person looked at the situation.&lt;br /&gt;For example, Say someone is says, " Man the way our generation is now, is the exact same as is was in our parents generation." And then some one else contradicts with their statement, " No it isn’t the two generations are totally different." Now we have a debate. One more person comes into the conversation but he contradicts with no one. He agrees with the first person. While they all are debating the two agreeing team mates both have the same point of views on the situation and everything the tells the other person the already know themselves. So they didn’t learn anything knew. As other debating opponent states why he feels that way and his reasons the other two persons have taken in some new information from the person that didn’t agree with them,&lt;br /&gt;Basically, everyone learns more from someone who doesn’t agree with you rather than someone that does agree with you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948174-114651184229743111?l=tazjaz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/feeds/114651184229743111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948174&amp;postID=114651184229743111' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/114651184229743111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/114651184229743111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/2006/05/opposition.html' title='Opposition'/><author><name>TazD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02913961439038305312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948174.post-114375009382305756</id><published>2006-03-30T12:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-30T12:21:33.823-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sausage and beer feedback</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;When I read the short story Sausage and Beer I did have to think about my own life experiences to help my interest in the story. That's how it is with most stories. The reader should always be able to relate to at least one character in the story. There have been many times that I have felt like the boy in the story, except my relative knew about me and I didn't know anything about them. My family is so huge that people that I walk pass on the streets are my family. One day we went to a family reunion for my grandmother's side of the family. There were so many people there and most of them came up to me and said," Oh my goodness. You have gotten so big, I remember you when you were this little."In my opinion, the author, Minot, made his character interesting to me by showing what the boys was thinking when he met this mystery relative. Ironically, when I'm in the same situation, I think the same thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948174-114375009382305756?l=tazjaz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/feeds/114375009382305756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948174&amp;postID=114375009382305756' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/114375009382305756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/114375009382305756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/2006/03/sausage-and-beer-feedback_30.html' title='Sausage and beer feedback'/><author><name>TazD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02913961439038305312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948174.post-114314616948460199</id><published>2006-03-23T12:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-23T12:40:33.150-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Angelica from the rugrats (description)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Angelica&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Angelica is a toddler child about 4 years of age. She is a white american child with blond hair and blue eyes. She wears her hair in two ponytails on the sides of her head. They resemble Satan's horns. This is very ironic because she does things that are not very kind. She always tries to get her little cousin, Tommy Pickles, and his friends in troubles. Angelica will lie and blame anyone that she can to stop from getting herself into trouble. I think she acts this way because she is jealous of all the attention the babies get. She is used to being spoiled and being in the spot light all of the time. Now it's time to share her spot light and she doesn't want to. She acts like this towards anyone she meets. She is not really a sharing person. That's why her only real friend is her baby doll, Synthia. She gets pretty lonely at times because nobody wants to be around her, but she tries not to show it. Sometimes she breaks down and starts being nice, but this is only lasts until her needs are satisfied. After her needs are satisfied she turns back to her old self, mean ol' Angelica. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948174-114314616948460199?l=tazjaz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/feeds/114314616948460199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948174&amp;postID=114314616948460199' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/114314616948460199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/114314616948460199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/2006/03/angelica-from-rugrats-description.html' title='Angelica from the rugrats (description)'/><author><name>TazD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02913961439038305312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948174.post-114141765582307107</id><published>2006-03-03T12:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-03T12:29:45.160-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Create a setting</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Hanzel and Gretal&lt;br /&gt;Setting:&lt;br /&gt;The warm sun shined on the golden graham cracker walls. As we walked up we smelled the marshmallow flower buds roasting on their licorice stems. As we approached the amazing building, we saw a mailbox to our right that was made out of Oreo cookies, graham crackers, and fruit roll-ups for the flag. We took a step forward and noticed we were standing on large round chocolate chip cookies. We looked closely at the house and the door was made out of a large strawberry poptart with a peppermint ball for the door knob. We were getting so hungry. Hanzel leaned against the red and white candy cane yard lamp and took a lick. We saw the poptart door open very slowly. The more it opened; the stronger we could smell the sweet smell of apple pie. The sweet steam from the pie floated under our nostrils.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948174-114141765582307107?l=tazjaz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/feeds/114141765582307107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948174&amp;postID=114141765582307107' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/114141765582307107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/114141765582307107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/2006/03/create-setting.html' title='Create a setting'/><author><name>TazD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02913961439038305312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948174.post-114133161962805911</id><published>2006-03-02T12:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-02T12:33:39.636-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How do writers create suspense</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I think writers create suspense in a story by adding so many details to the story that it makes you think you are the character. By adding details, the reader wants to know what happens to them( as the character) in the story. Another way a writer may create suspense would be to make the reader use all of their senses and make them feel the way the character feels in the story. This will make the reader want to read more of the story. That is how a writer may create suspense in a story.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948174-114133161962805911?l=tazjaz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/feeds/114133161962805911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948174&amp;postID=114133161962805911' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/114133161962805911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/114133161962805911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/2006/03/how-do-writers-create-suspense.html' title='How do writers create suspense'/><author><name>TazD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02913961439038305312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948174.post-114003521781383531</id><published>2006-02-15T12:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-15T12:26:57.823-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Guidelines</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;              Guidelines&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;1.) Don't be ashamedmof your subject&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;2.) Don't be discouraged&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;3.)Don't cast sidelines glances and compare yourself among your peers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;4.) Immerse yourself in a writer you love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;5.) Writer for your own time if not for your own generation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;6.) Don't expect to be treated justly by the world or mercifully&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;7.) Don't be ashamed of being an idealist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;8.) Don't too quickly prejudge classics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;9.) Only have faith( the sentence can't be written until the last sentence has been written)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948174-114003521781383531?l=tazjaz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/feeds/114003521781383531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948174&amp;postID=114003521781383531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/114003521781383531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/114003521781383531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/2006/02/guidelines.html' title='Guidelines'/><author><name>TazD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02913961439038305312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948174.post-113770254082887657</id><published>2006-01-19T12:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-20T12:22:46.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'>good poems</title><content type='html'>The poems I read were:&lt;br /&gt;1. James Reiss " My Daughters in New York" (&lt;a href="http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/010.html"&gt;http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/010.html&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;2. Joyce Sutphen " Naming the stars" (&lt;a href="http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/007.html"&gt;http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/007.html&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;3. Lucille Clifton "Praise song" (&lt;a href="http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/015.html"&gt;http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/015.html&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;a href="http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/87"&gt;Maya Angelou&lt;/a&gt; "Still I rise" (&lt;a href="http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15623"&gt;http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15623&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;a href="http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/283"&gt;Stevie Smith&lt;/a&gt;"Not waving but&lt;br /&gt;drowing"(&lt;a href="http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15801"&gt;http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15801&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;a href="http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/165"&gt;Gwendolyn Brooks&lt;/a&gt; "We Real Cool" (&lt;a href="http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15433"&gt;http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15433&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;7. &lt;a href="http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/79"&gt;Lucille Clifton&lt;/a&gt; "Miss Rosie"(&lt;a href="http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15600"&gt;http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15600&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;8.&lt;a href="http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/302"&gt;Paul Laurence Dunbar&lt;/a&gt;"Sympathy"(&lt;a href="http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16071"&gt;http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16071&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;9.&lt;a href="http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/25"&gt;Claude McKay&lt;/a&gt; "The Tropics of New York"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15249"&gt;http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15249&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.&lt;a href="http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/83"&gt;Langston Hughes&lt;/a&gt; "Dreams"&lt;a href="http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16075"&gt;http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16075&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My top three poems are Maya Angelo's poem "Still I Rise", Langston Hughes's poem "Dreams", and Gwendolyn Brooks's poem "We Real Cool".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maya Angelo's poem is one of my top favorite poems because it shows that no matter how much people "hate" on you or no matter how much people put you down, always keep your head up. In her poem it seems like there are many people doubting her abilities and trying to make her feel lower than dirt, but throgh all of this she stays positve and keeps her head held high. This poem makes me want to be a better person it inspires me so much. This poem knid of makes you think of the quote "one man's trash is another man's treasure". It makes me think of this quote because even though she didn't have much she told the people who were being negative towards her that she acts as if she has diamond betwwen her thighs, jewlerly in her backyard. She literally didn't have these things but her life was so good that's what it seemed like. That why I love the poem "Still I rise".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I chose Langston Hughes's poem"Dreams" because it also inspires me. This poem inspires to always go from my dreams no matter what. Without dreams poeople wouldn't have anything to look forward to or go for. Life would be so boring without dreams. Everyone has a dream that they want to reach no matter who they are. When people have dreams they believe they have a purpose in life. Just having a dream is not enough going for your dreams are so meaningful. What I mean by that is When you work to reach your goal you feel better about it. That's why I enjoy the poem "Dreams".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last but not least, I chose Gwendolyn Brook's poem "We real cool" because it makes me feel like I'm doing something right with my life. In her poem in basically says some kids think they are cool because they dropped out of school, and because they didn't earn any education they won't survive long. I will not every be one of those kids who drop out school because anything worth getting is worth working for, and I want to survive longer than they will (ha ha).&lt;br /&gt;This poem makes me proud of who I am and what I am doing with my life. That's why I love this poem "We real Cool".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are my top three poems and the reasons why I love them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948174-113770254082887657?l=tazjaz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/feeds/113770254082887657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948174&amp;postID=113770254082887657' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/113770254082887657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/113770254082887657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/2006/01/good-poems.html' title='good poems'/><author><name>TazD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02913961439038305312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20948174.post-113718232496516621</id><published>2006-01-13T11:52:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-25T12:12:42.826-08:00</updated><title type='text'>About me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Hi,&lt;/span&gt; I'm a young poet inspired by a pen and paper. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Ooops,&lt;/span&gt; I mean &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;my name is&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Jasmine.&lt;/span&gt; Ha Ha&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Here's a little of my work:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Generations to Come&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Today my brothers are being shot for shoes, but because they are African American I hardly see them on the news.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Even 13 and below are packing that steel, from birth to death they were raised to kill.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;STDS and AIDS are strong in our state, lost virginity caused by rape.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;The BIG brother knows the little BROTHER follows, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;not thinking of college but managing McDonalds.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Today's parents are the age of 12, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;trying to raise a newborn whent they know nothing themselves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Never had a job but they have those rims,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Baby doesn't have any food but they have those Timbs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Influencing children while drinking a bottle of rum,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I'm a little worried about our generations to come.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20948174-113718232496516621?l=tazjaz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/feeds/113718232496516621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20948174&amp;postID=113718232496516621' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/113718232496516621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20948174/posts/default/113718232496516621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tazjaz.blogspot.com/2006/01/about-me_13.html' title='About me'/><author><name>TazD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02913961439038305312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
