College Esssayyyyha;keefugeqklug
Okay I haven't written in here in a billion years, butttt I need help making my essay shorter (and better).
So here it is:
The Friendship Club
I’m not going to lie to you; I was a pretty fantastic first grader. My block-building skills were something to envy. A small, shy Isobel Brown noticed this as she watched me build from across the first grade classroom. After much hesitation, she found the courage to approach me and my craft. She introduced herself as Izzy, and on that fateful day, we became friends.
It wasn’t until later on that year, however, that we became best friends. One day, two très chic jeunes filles in our class decided to form a club. When Izzy and I naïvely asked to join, the girls would not let us. They said that the club was only for seven-year-olds, and Izzy and I were still only six. This rejection infuriated me, so I turned to Izzy and declared that she and I should make our own club. Izzy agreed, but she added, “Yeah…we’ll call it the Friendship Club! And everyone can join!” Izzy was a nobler, more altruistic child than I. But something drew me to her idea; I saw the logic, and I admired her thoughtfulness. I pronounced my agreement, and at that moment, the lifelong Friendship Club was formed.
I was quite a dramatic child throughout elementary school, whereas Izzy was rather shy. We played off each other nicely because I brought her out of her shell and she grounded me. As a middle child, I also had an unquenchable thirst for attention, and in seeking this attention, I once lied to all my classmates that I would be moving to Chicago the following year. When my mother found out about the lie, I was in deep gooey trouble. My mother made me feel terrible in a way that only a mother can, but what really stuck with me was Izzy’s reaction when she found out I had lied. She was very non-confrontational, but she gave a subtle air of disappointment that brought on my guilt more than anything else. I had exploited her affection for my own personal thrill. For years, the memory of how my selfishness had been nowhere near the loss of her trust stuck with me whenever I felt the urge to tell a pointless lie.
I made it up to her in the fifth grade. That year we had and assignment called Writing Group, requiring that we compose a piece of creative writing every other week. Izzy’s compositions were always the best in the class, so when our teacher told us about a local poetry contest, I told her to enter one of her poems. She was reluctant, but I was adamant, unwilling to let her deny her obvious talents. I convinced her to enter, and she won first place.
I was rarely jealous of Izzy for her talents because I had always felt equal to her. But in ninth grade, I felt that Izzy surpassed me because she discovered her unfairly gorgeous alto voice and to add insult to injury, was favored by our ninth grade English teacher. English had always been the subject at which we both excelled. And as if this wasn’t challenge enough to our friendship, we also had a crush on the same boy. Fortunately, Izzy and I have always been very analytical people. We analyze even the smallest of situations; we seem to be driven by an insatiable need to understand everything about people and the world. So, even in the midst of our turmoil, we talked about every situation and realized our own insecurities. We helped each other grow, and by seeing aspects of ourselves in each other, we helped each other understand and eventually deal with our inner and mutual problems. Our conversations are like a collective thought process, with the benefit of having two minds and two points of view to enrich our comprehension. Over the years, the analytical skills, personal insight and humanist values that developed in my friendship with Izzy have informed all of my relationships. I am the person our friends turn to for advice and guidance.
Izzy, as a high school student going off to college, is one of the most confident people I know. She is no longer afraid to take pride in her many talents. She’s come a long way from being the girl that was almost too scared to ask if she could play blocks with me. I like to think that this is at least partially because of my encouragement of her talents throughout the years. I, in turn, am no longer the self-centered child that lied to everyone for attention in the second grade. Instead of wasting my energies obsessing over my own insecurities, I use my mind to help my friends battle theirs. In doing so, my own insecurities tend to vanish because I feel like I have a purpose. Izzy and I have obviously matured since first grade, but our pasts are so intertwined that our growth has inevitably been profoundly influenced by the presence of one another. Someday, she’ll use the confidence she has in her talents to win the Nobel Prize in Literature, and I’ll be there for her as a humanist and a friend, with genuine excitement for my co-president of the Friendship Club.
Soooo yeah it needs to be AT LEAST 200 words shorter... anyone have any idea of something I could cut? And also any other comments/criticisms.... don't be afraid to give criticisms, I promise I will be very greatful and not offended no matter how harsh.
In other news, I am very stressed cause I'm doing a lot of Early Action applications and a few Rolling that I need to get in like really really soon.....ahhhhhhdkfjghdklfddfg. But Friday was completely lovely, Across teh Universe was wonderful, and tomorrow will be fun at least for a couple of hours cause there's a Downbeat rehearsal at lovely Kate's. And then I have to do like 2934829048239483 Euro readings.
Okaybye.
So here it is:
The Friendship Club
I’m not going to lie to you; I was a pretty fantastic first grader. My block-building skills were something to envy. A small, shy Isobel Brown noticed this as she watched me build from across the first grade classroom. After much hesitation, she found the courage to approach me and my craft. She introduced herself as Izzy, and on that fateful day, we became friends.
It wasn’t until later on that year, however, that we became best friends. One day, two très chic jeunes filles in our class decided to form a club. When Izzy and I naïvely asked to join, the girls would not let us. They said that the club was only for seven-year-olds, and Izzy and I were still only six. This rejection infuriated me, so I turned to Izzy and declared that she and I should make our own club. Izzy agreed, but she added, “Yeah…we’ll call it the Friendship Club! And everyone can join!” Izzy was a nobler, more altruistic child than I. But something drew me to her idea; I saw the logic, and I admired her thoughtfulness. I pronounced my agreement, and at that moment, the lifelong Friendship Club was formed.
I was quite a dramatic child throughout elementary school, whereas Izzy was rather shy. We played off each other nicely because I brought her out of her shell and she grounded me. As a middle child, I also had an unquenchable thirst for attention, and in seeking this attention, I once lied to all my classmates that I would be moving to Chicago the following year. When my mother found out about the lie, I was in deep gooey trouble. My mother made me feel terrible in a way that only a mother can, but what really stuck with me was Izzy’s reaction when she found out I had lied. She was very non-confrontational, but she gave a subtle air of disappointment that brought on my guilt more than anything else. I had exploited her affection for my own personal thrill. For years, the memory of how my selfishness had been nowhere near the loss of her trust stuck with me whenever I felt the urge to tell a pointless lie.
I made it up to her in the fifth grade. That year we had and assignment called Writing Group, requiring that we compose a piece of creative writing every other week. Izzy’s compositions were always the best in the class, so when our teacher told us about a local poetry contest, I told her to enter one of her poems. She was reluctant, but I was adamant, unwilling to let her deny her obvious talents. I convinced her to enter, and she won first place.
I was rarely jealous of Izzy for her talents because I had always felt equal to her. But in ninth grade, I felt that Izzy surpassed me because she discovered her unfairly gorgeous alto voice and to add insult to injury, was favored by our ninth grade English teacher. English had always been the subject at which we both excelled. And as if this wasn’t challenge enough to our friendship, we also had a crush on the same boy. Fortunately, Izzy and I have always been very analytical people. We analyze even the smallest of situations; we seem to be driven by an insatiable need to understand everything about people and the world. So, even in the midst of our turmoil, we talked about every situation and realized our own insecurities. We helped each other grow, and by seeing aspects of ourselves in each other, we helped each other understand and eventually deal with our inner and mutual problems. Our conversations are like a collective thought process, with the benefit of having two minds and two points of view to enrich our comprehension. Over the years, the analytical skills, personal insight and humanist values that developed in my friendship with Izzy have informed all of my relationships. I am the person our friends turn to for advice and guidance.
Izzy, as a high school student going off to college, is one of the most confident people I know. She is no longer afraid to take pride in her many talents. She’s come a long way from being the girl that was almost too scared to ask if she could play blocks with me. I like to think that this is at least partially because of my encouragement of her talents throughout the years. I, in turn, am no longer the self-centered child that lied to everyone for attention in the second grade. Instead of wasting my energies obsessing over my own insecurities, I use my mind to help my friends battle theirs. In doing so, my own insecurities tend to vanish because I feel like I have a purpose. Izzy and I have obviously matured since first grade, but our pasts are so intertwined that our growth has inevitably been profoundly influenced by the presence of one another. Someday, she’ll use the confidence she has in her talents to win the Nobel Prize in Literature, and I’ll be there for her as a humanist and a friend, with genuine excitement for my co-president of the Friendship Club.
Soooo yeah it needs to be AT LEAST 200 words shorter... anyone have any idea of something I could cut? And also any other comments/criticisms.... don't be afraid to give criticisms, I promise I will be very greatful and not offended no matter how harsh.
In other news, I am very stressed cause I'm doing a lot of Early Action applications and a few Rolling that I need to get in like really really soon.....ahhhhhhdkfjghdklfddfg. But Friday was completely lovely, Across teh Universe was wonderful, and tomorrow will be fun at least for a couple of hours cause there's a Downbeat rehearsal at lovely Kate's. And then I have to do like 2934829048239483 Euro readings.
Okaybye.