7 Deadly Sins Revision

Using my reflection, I revised my Seven Deadly Sins paper.

Seven Deadly Sins Committed at Java’s

            Sometimes I really delight in people watching. It’s one of my favorite past times. It can be interesting and slightly educational at points. However, sometimes, it really takes a toll on my hope for humanity. So, here I am, sitting just outside the entrance of Java’s, sipping on something called a Chocolate Sitch. I’m not quite sure what it is, but it’s delicious and that’s all that really concerns me. It’s about 9:30 on a Thursday night, so the place is bustling, people walking in and out the door, up and down the sidewalk in the warm summer air. I can see most of the café through the glass front, except for the counter and the unfortunate people working behind it, which is clouded by a mob of customers. I catch a glimpse of a man with thick glasses and jet black hair on his head and his chin wearing a light tan hoodie. He stands towards the back of the crowd, farthest from the counter, with a scowl twisting his face. He taps his toes impatiently. Another younger man holding a latte attempts to squeeze by the impatient man. He fails. Miserably. The latte spills all down the impatient man’s hoodie. The now latte-coated man whips around in a rage.

“What the hell?! What’s your problem?!” He snarls at the unfortunate offender, his face scrunched up in disgust.

“Man, I am really sorry! So sorry!” The younger man looks around for a solution to the mess.

“This is my favorite hoodie, you jerk! What’s wrong with you? ”

“I dunno! I’m sorry! I thought there was room-, “ Cutting himself off, he quickly grabs some napkins out of the holder and attempts to wipe off the angry man’s hoodie, but his hand is slapped away.

“You’re just gonna make it worse, idiot!”

He throws down the napkins in defeat and walks out of the front door, breezing by my table. The angry, latte-coated man pathetically kicks the napkins on the ground and follows suit, stomping down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. I stifle a laugh.

The sky somehow seems a bit darker and the moon that much brighter. I look around at the surrounding tables. Suddenly, I notice the conversations have quieted down and some people have focused their attention behind me. Just before I turn around to look for myself, I notice a young woman take her giant cookie off of her table, wrap it in her hands, and hold it in her lap. When I finally turn, I see a hunched over man in a dark, dirty, raggedy jacket pushing a cart full of junk. His hair sticks out wildly from under a holey, gray ski cap and a scraggly, gray-streaked beard hangs from his face. He looks tired and worn, his eyes sunken into his dirty, leathery face.

            “Could you spare me some food? Or some change?” He asks each person politely, never coming to a complete stop at each table. When he reaches the woman’s table, he asks again. She hurriedly shakes her head no, tightening her grip on her cookie under the table. The man continues to push his creaky cart down the sidewalk and around the corner. Once she is sure he’s gone, she soundlessly brings the cookie up from her lap.

            “Whoa, check it out.” instructs an awed voice from the table next to me. I turn my attention away from the cookie-hoarding woman out of curiosity. The table is crowded with half a dozen guys, none of them over 20, nudging and laughing. They all stop to gawk, mouths agape, at a girl walking down the sidewalk towards the café. She appears flawless. Her face is a cream color, with high cheek bones, full lips, and bright green eyes behind long dark lashes. Her long, blonde curly hair flows behind her as she strides by in a tight pink t-shirt and fringed short shorts. She wears a cocky smirk and winks at her admirers, putting a little more swing in her step. As she walks past their table, they all turn and adjust themselves to keep their eyes on her, a few almost falling out of their chairs. I turn again to look at her, and catch sight of another table watching, only with different reactions. A group of girls, not much older than the guys at the other table, glare at the passing beauty with expressions of disgust. However, the disgust seems feigned, a disguise. I see a few of them throw glances at the table of guys, almost appearing anxious. They apparently don’t realize how much prettier they would be if they didn’t wear those faces. The distraction passes and within seconds the usual conversations resume. I stand and head into the café to throw out my now empty cup and, inevitably, purchase a cookie. The place is so packed I get caught in the throes of the crowd that’s supposed to be the line to the counter. I decide to wait a bit until it thins, taking a seat at a nearby table. Suddenly, my ears pick up on a high-pitched whining noise. I cringe involuntarily, and swing around to see a pudgy lady with a puffy face squeezed into a corner booth, shouting at a rather scrawny, older-looking man towards the front of the counter mob.

            “Get me another hot chocolate, too! And an oatmeal raisin cookie!” She screeches, her multiple layers of chin jiggling unpleasantly. The man cringes too, and replies with a jerky nod. He reaches the counter, orders two drinks and reaches into the big, glass cookie jar. “Not that puny one! The big one to the left!” The lady demands upon spying his insufficient selection from her convenient vantage point. He snatches the larger one as directed and moves around to the register, removing his folded wallet from his back pocket.

            “Alright, it’s $5.40. Would you like to donate to the kidney foundation?” The pretty young woman behind the counter asks in a sticky-sweet voice. The man smirks shamelessly, revealing yellowed crooked teeth, and shakes his head, chuckling as he files through the several bills in his wallet. “What have kidneys ever done for me?” He hands her a ten, eagerly accepts his change and the hot chocolates, and heads for the unfortunate booth barely containing the obnoxious woman. He pauses at an abandoned table with a tip waiting on it. Without much attempt at being inconspicuous, he snatches up the few bills and hastily continues on his path.

            I’ve suddenly lost my desire for chocolate chip, and push my way back out the door, taking a right. As I make another right into the alley way to the garage, I’m caught off guard by the sound of a sharp laugh. I look up to see a lanky, bald man standing next to a neon green Schwinn Cruiser with two girls I recognize from the table near mine.

“Good luck finding one like this! It’s absolutely unparalleled. I had it custom built, chose all the parts myself so I know they’re the best. They wanted three-hundred, but of course, I talked it down to half that.” The man boasts, the light on the building wall reflecting off his head. The girls nod like bobble-heads on the dashboard of a dune buggy. “I really didn’t think it was possible for me to ride any faster than I already do, but I made it happen with this baby.” He winks and rubs an imaginary smudge off the bike’s frame. Suppressing the urge to vomit, I swiftly dodge around the three people and walk briskly to the end of the alley. As I reach the street at the end and feel the comforting breeze catch my hair again, I decide tonight wasn’t a great night for people watching. I’ll try Monday next week.

I actually feel alot better about this expanded draft. I think the dialogue I added in the latte incident really did emphasize the mood and emotions of that example of wrath. I found that expanding my descriptions in even minor ways throughout the paper, such as I did with the pudgy lady and her man in the example of gluttony and greed, can really make it seem more tangible and relatable. It really did make me feel better. I found that starting a new paragraph for my quote "The sky somehow seems a bit darker and the moon that much brighter" sort of helped in the transition as well. I've become sort of proud of my this piece.

7 Deadly Sins Paper Reflection

 I'd have to say the Seven Deadly Sins draft was my favorite to write. I'll admit I was a little pessimistic when we first read the article "All Seven Deadly Sins Committed at Church Bake Sale". However, I feel that I ended up finding my way pretty well. At points I felt conflicted about my examples. It was a little difficult deciding how to incorporate them and make good transitions. Writing descriptions to make the story more believable seemed to come pretty easily to me, as I did for the girl in the example of lust. I learned that exemplification papers don't have to (and really shouldn't) be a statement of examples. You can always incorporate things like details, descriptions, plots, and twists, like you would in a story. When I reread my draft, I found that my initial thoughts about my writing were pretty accurate. I liked my descriptions, including the one of the homeless man in the example of gluttony, though they could always be expanded. I also found that there were points where I could use a little more dialogue, such as in my first example for wrath about the latte-spilling incident. I intend to use these observations to revise my draft.

Seven Deadly Sins Committed at Java’s

            Sometimes I really delight in people watching. It’s one of my favorite past times. It can be interesting and slightly educational at points. However, sometimes, it really takes a toll on my hope for humanity. So, here I am, sitting just outside the entrance of Java’s, sipping on something called a Chocolate Sitch. I’m not quite sure what it is, but it’s delicious and that’s all that really concerns me. It’s about 9:30 on a Thursday night, so the place is bustling, people walking in and out the door, up and down the sidewalk in the warm summer air. I can see most of the café through the glass front, except for the counter and the unfortunate people working behind it, which is clouded by a mob of customers. I catch a glimpse of a man with thick glasses and a light tan hoodie. He stands towards the back of the crowd, farthest from the counter, with a scowl twisting his face. He taps his toes impatiently. Another younger man holding a latte attempts to squeeze by the impatient man. He fails. Miserably. The latte spills all down the impatient man’s hoodie. He whips around in a rage, and immediately begins yelling at the unfortunate offender, who continues to apologize incessantly. He grabs some napkins out of the holder and attempts to wipe off the angry man’s hoodie, but his hand is slapped away. He throws down the napkins in defeat and walks out of the front door, breezing by my table. The latte covered man pathetically kicks the napkins on the ground and follows suit, stomping down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. I stifle a laugh. The sky somehow seems a bit darker and the moon that much brighter. I look around at the surrounding tables. Suddenly, I notice the conversations have quieted down and some people have focused their attention behind me. Just before I turn around to look for myself, I notice a woman take her giant cookie off of her table, wrap it in her hands, and hold it in her lap. When I finally turn, I see a hunched over man in a dark, dirty, raggedy jacket pushing a cart full of junk. His hair sticks out wildly from under a holey, gray ski cap and a scraggly, gray-streaked beard hangs from his face. He looks tired and worn, his eyes sunken into his dirty, leathery face.

            “Could you spare me some food? Or some change?” He asks each person politely, never coming to a complete stop at each table. When he reaches the woman’s table, he asks again. She hurriedly shakes her head no, tightening her grip on her cookie under the table. The man continues to push his creaky cart down the sidewalk and around the corner. Once she is sure he’s gone, she soundlessly brings the cookie up from her lap.

            “Whoa, check it out.” instructs a voice from the table next to me. I turn my attention away from the cookie-hoarding woman out of curiosity. The table is crowded with half a dozen guys, none of them over 20, nudging and laughing. They all stop to gawk, mouths agape, at a girl walking down the sidewalk towards the café. She appears flawless. Her face is a cream color, with high cheek bones, full lips, and bright green eyes behind long dark lashes. Her long, blonde curly hair flows behind her as she strides by in a tight pink t-shirt and fringed short shorts. She wears a cocky smirk and winks at her admirers, putting a little more swing in her step. As she walks past their table, they all turn and adjust themselves to keep their eyes on her, a few almost falling out of their chairs. I turn again to look at her, and catch sight of another table watching, only with different reactions. A group of girls, not much older than the guys at the other table, glare at the passing beauty with expressions of disgust. However, the disgust seems feigned, a disguise. I see a few of them throw glance at the table of guys, almost appearing anxious. They apparently don’t realize how much prettier they would be if they didn’t wear those faces. The distraction passes and within seconds the usual conversations resume. I stand and head into the café to throw out my now empty cup and, inevitably, purchase a cookie. The place is so packed I get caught in the throes of the crowd that’s supposed to be the line to the counter. I decide to wait a bit until it thins, taking a seat at a nearby table. Suddenly, my ears pick up on a high-pitched whining noise. I cringe involuntarily, and swing around to see a pudgy lady squeezed into a corner booth, shouting at a rather scrawny man towards the front of the counter mob.

            “Get me another hot chocolate, too! And an oatmeal raisin cookie!” She screeches. The man cringes too, and replies with a jerky nod. He reaches the counter, orders two drinks and reaches into the big, glass cookie jar. “Not that puny one! The big one to the left!” The lady demands upon spying his insufficient selection from her convenient vantage point. He snatches the larger one as directed and moves around to the register, removing his folded wallet from his back pocket.

            “Alright, it’s $5.40. Would you like to donate to the kidney foundation?” The pretty young woman behind the counter asks in a sticky-sweet voice. The man smirks shamelessly and shakes his head, chuckling as he files through the several bills in his wallet. “What have kidneys ever done for me?” He hands her a ten, eagerly accepts his change and the hot chocolates, and heads for the unfortunate booth barely containing the obnoxious woman. He pauses at an abandoned table with a tip waiting on it. Without much attempt at being inconspicuous, he snatches up the few bills and hastily continues on his path.

            I’ve suddenly lost my desire for chocolate chip, and push my way back out the door, taking a right. As I make another right into the alley way to the garage, I’m caught off guard by the sound of a sharp laugh. I look up to see a lanky, bald man standing next to a neon green Schwinn Cruiser with two of the girls I recognize from the table near mine.

“Good luck finding one like this! It’s absolutely unparalleled. I had it custom built, chose all the parts myself so I know they’re the best. They wanted three-hundred, but of course, I talked it down to half that.” The man boasts, the light of the building wall reflecting off his head. The girls nod like bobble-heads on the dashboard of a dune buggy. “I really didn’t think it was possible for me to ride any faster than I already do, but I made it happen with this baby.” He winks and rubs an imaginary smudge off the bike’s frame. Suppressing the urge to vomit, I swiftly dodge around the three people and walk briskly to the end of the alley. As I reach the street at the end and feel the comforting breeze catch my hair again, I decide tonight wasn’t a great night for people watching. I’ll try Monday next week.

Food Paper Feedback and Reflection

The prospect of doing a paper based on taste tests done in class seemed really interesting initially. It took a little more preparation to begin this paper than I thought it would. Aside from the actual taste-testing, it was also necessary to look up information such as background, history, statistics, and nutrition facts about potato chips, especially for use in my introduction. I was interested to see where the subject and my research would take me. However, I did have trouble finding a good way to start my paper, as well as how to organize it. I found it to be quite frustrating. Once I did get into it, I found that I enjoyed being able to use a lot of personal voice and casual humor in expressing my opinion on the potato chips, particularly in the paragraph where I discussed the Baked! chip. I found it was really evident in my conclusion as I sort of slid my verdict into a discussion of a preference for pretzels over potato chips. That's something that I found I still liked when I reread my draft. I liked my descriptions and distinctions between the different chips besides the personal voice, although I could definitely have more detail. I tried to use various techniques for my introduction such as questions and background information. I also found that my transitions could be improved upon. I ended up adding the second smaller paragraph of my introduction that discussed the Frito-Lays company in an attempt to make it smoother. My partner, Eric, gave me advice that really helped me reevaluate and revise my draft, namely my introduction. He pointed out that I didn't really promise anything or outline my goal of writing, nor did I have a solid thesis. I used that information to reevaluate my introduction, as shown in my other post. Overall, I believe this was a positive experience in improving my ability to reflect and revise my work.

All That and a Bag of Chips

                How often do you think about your favorite potato chip? Not just the flavor, but the brand. Can you tell the difference? Come to think of it, how different would your life be if there wasn't such a variety of chips in modern society? Okay, maybe not that different. There might be one less aisle in the store. Unless you work in the potato chip industry, perhaps in a factory. Potato chip companies and their variety of products are a testament to how much potato chips have changed in the past 157 years of their existence. I doubt that George Crum thought that his accidental creation for that one unsatisfied customer in Saratoga Spring's Moon Lake Lodge  all those years ago would become such a phenomenon.

               

                Companies like Frito-Lay make a variety of potato chip products. They offer different flavors, such as sour cream and onion or BBQ, and dips as well. In addition, they make the classic potato chip with different ingredients and different methods. Every product comes with a bucket full of claims and guarantees. Well, how do you figure out which is really the best? You try them of course!

               

                In my journey for the truth about one of the world's most popular munchie foods, I tried four different types of plain potato chips, all with the Frito-Lay brand name: Classic, Baked!, Natural, and Light. Lay's Classic potato chip is just what its name states, the sort of chip anyone who doesn't live under a rock has tried. You can taste the overwhelming saltiness the moment you bite into one. It cracks into little flaky shards that get stuck in my teeth. They have a grainy texture and leave grease and clinging grains of salt all over my fingers. After I'm done digging the remnants out of my teeth, I move onto the Lay's Light Original. The bag boasts about being "all the taste, half the calories." It's true, it seems just like the Classic. I notice it's a little less grainy and greasy, but just as salty.  A little disappointed, I move onto the Lay's Baked! Original. Obviously, they're supposedly baked. I take a bite and am taken by surprise. It somehow seems a lot lighter than the other two and not as greasy or grainy or salty. It has a loud, appetizing "crunch" to it. However, without the salt, it seems that it doesn't have much flavor. The anticipation has built for the final kind, Natural. It's similar to Baked! in that it's different from Classic and Light. However, it seems as though it tastes more potato-ey, making it less plain than the Baked! Its a bit thicker and a little chewy. With all my observations made, it was time to make a decision.

                Now, here's the kicker. I'm not really a fan of potato chips. It's not that I can't tolerate them, they just aren't what I gravitate towards at the snack table. I'm more of a pretzel person. So why did I do this ludicrous evaluation? I don't want to get into it. But I did it and a choice had to be made. The final verdict? Lay's Natural. I enjoyed the potato-ey taste and the thick, chewiness. I don't like a lot of grease or salt or being stabbed in the gums with tiny potato chip shards. So there it is. Lay's Natural is officially all that and a bag of chips, or at least by a pretzel person's standards.

Food Paper Intro Revisions

 I'm attempting to use new techniques to revise the introduction of my Food Paper, "All That and a Bag of Chips". In my original draft, I used a combination of thought-provoking questions, historical facts, and brief introductory information.

  How often do you think about your favorite potato chip? Not just the flavor, but the brand. Can you tell the difference? Come to think of it, how different would your life be if there wasn't such a variety of chips in modern society? Okay, maybe not that different. There might be one less aisle in the store. Unless you work in the potato chip industry, perhaps in a factory. Potato chip companies and their variety of products are a testament to how much potato chips have changed in the past 157 years of their existence. I doubt that George Crum thought that his accidental creation for that one unsatisfied customer in Saratoga Spring's Moon Lake Lodge  all those years ago would become such a phenomenon.
            Companies like Frito-Lay make a variety of potato chip products. They offer different flavors, such as sour cream and onion or BBQ, and dips as well. In addition, they make the classic potato chip with different ingredients and different methods. Every product comes with a bucket full of claims and guarantees. Well, how do you figure out which is really the best? You try them of course!

I'd like to try to focus more on individual methods. One such method is using anecdotes and quotes.
         "These are.. fantastic!" the man shouted in surprise. He held a crispy, golden-brown potato slice at eye level from his seated position, still crunching away at the previous one he had popped into his mouth."If you were to put these on the menu, I'd come here much more often! Give my compliments to the cook!"
         However, George Crum, said cook at the Moon Lake Lodge, didn't need to be told. He could hear the newly satisfied customer's exclamations of delight from his post in the kitchen. It was the exact opposite of what he had expected about his creation, which had been made to spite the picky customer. And he did put it on the Lodge's menu, one of the most popular in Saratoga Springs back in 1853, dubbing them "Saratoga Chips". 157 years later, we call them potato chips, and they can be found in just about any supermarket or menu, in a variety of flavors and ingredients. My intent was to find out which is the best.

Another possible technique I could use would be surprising statistics and/or facts.
         In 2007, it was calculated that per capita potato chip consumption in the U.S. was 16 pounds. When you think about it, that's quite a bit. Sort of makes you wonder what kind was eaten the most. It's plausible it was the best one, the one in high demand. But with all those flavors and forms in the chip aisle at the supermarket, which would be considered worthy of that title? It's also plausible that the best way to find out is to try them and see how they stack up, so that's what I did.

The final technique I tried was proposing a dilemma.
         Imagine you're running through the supermarket, gathering the last of the necessities for your family gathering or birthday party or what have you. You slide into the snack aisle, looking for something to occupy your guests until the real meal is served. Coming to a stop in front of the Lay's section of the shelves, you suddenly notice how many types and flavors of potato chips there are. Well, you really only need one bag. How do you choose from this sea of munchies? If only you had an unbiased opinion on what would be the biggest crowd-pleaser! Someone who has tried, evaluated, and compared them!  Well, if this is a real dilemma for you, you've picked up the right paper to read. I've tried them and I'm willing to share my findings for the benefit of overwhelmed consumers.