A day in the life of Morgan Evans is extremely boring. Not much goes on in my life, except the usual of me waking up for another painfully dull day at school and having to deal with unnecessary drama and problems at school and sometimes at home.
Usually in the morning I wake up around 5 (sometimes 4:30, depending on what I’m doing later on in the day) and take a shower, and watch whatever’s on Adult Swim, MTV, or VH1 at that time. Next, I do my hair for about an hour and tear apart my room to find an outfit for school. I probably change about 2-4 times too. After that, I brush my teeth, wash my face, and make most of the preparations necessary to make me look half-way decent for school. Later, I pack my lunch and run to my mom’s car at the last minute 9before the bus comes) to get a drink and maybe some snacks to go along with my lunch. Then I walk outside and stand at my bus stop, listening to music and watching and dodging cars that go by, and wait until my bus comes.
By mid-afternoon, I’m still tired and a little hungry. I have to sit through lectures, lessons, and/or tests for the next 2 hours before I’m able to go to lunch (YAY!). In the cafeteria, I sit with my friends and talk and eat, but I do more talking than eating most of the time. I sometimes do any homework that I didn’t have time to do in home base or at home. Not much else really goes on. Fortunately for reading, I don’t have to listen to Mr. Oakes teach the class, because I’m usually outside of the room doing projects with my reading group. By seventh period (which is my favorite class by the way), I want to go home and I’m either hyper or mad at something or someone. Nothing really happens in science either, except that some of the people that I’m forced to sit with are annoying, but the others are funny.
When nighttime arrives, I crash on my bed and take a short nap. For the next 3-6 hours I’m on the computer, doing homework, listening to/downloading music, watching videos, writing down thoughts in my journal, or emailing friends. Depending on the night, like Monday, Thursday, or Friday, I watch my favorite shows on T.V. (CSI, CSI: Miami, Degrassi, etc.). But if not, then I stay in my room and draw, write, or think while listening to music. Around 9, I eat whatever’s left over of my mom’s cooking and go to bed, awaiting another, tedious day in my uneventful life.
In conclusion, I’m no different from anyone else.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Chapter Three
When awoke, she had trouble taking in her new surroundings, forgetting again where she was. Her new boss, Maximillion, had hired her to take care of him while he was ill. He was a peculiar little man, but she admired him because he treated her like family. She searched the room, taking in every detail, wiping the crud away from her eyes before starting her day. A while later, Klaus entered the room, “Miss. McConnell, Mr. Max wants to have a word with you.” He stated. Angela stumbled down the long empty corridor that led to Maximillion’s room.
“You wanted to see me?” she cracked the door open slowly and cautiously walked in.
“Ah! Angela! Come sit.”
He patted the seat of the empty chair next to him. She sat down and stared at the ground before looking back up at him. “So, how are you this fine day?” he said with a big smile on his face. Angela smiled back, hesitantly at first, and then spoke softly,
“Fine, you?” She felt awkward just sitting there with him, having a normal and friendly conversation. They talked for a while longer before Margarette, the maid, announced that breakfast would be served in a moment. Angela quickly stood up and grabbed his wheelchair, trying to steady him as he wobbled out of his chair before Klaus took over.
“See you in 15 minutes!” he yelled over his shoulder as he was being pushed out the door.
$$$
“Where is she!?” asked Daryl aka “Baby-Shoes”.
“I told you, I don’t know where she went!” cried Tracy. Baby-Shoes grabbed Tracy by the arm, gripping her so tight that she began to wince in pain.
“I know you know where she is, because one of the girls told me that you two were talking right before she left.” Tracy looked away, unable to hide her guilt.
“She told me she was going to run away. Start a new life somewhere. She said she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life living like this…” Tracy stopped and waited for a reply. Baby-Shoes loosened his grip and held up her face so hat they were looking at each other directly in the eyes. Tracy started to speak again,
“…She went downtown and applied for a job to take care of some old man that she found in the papers. I think his name is Max, uh, Million.” Baby-Shoes thought for a moment before it clicked.
“Maximillion,” he said to himself. He turned to leave, pulling his phone out of his pocket calling one of his affiliates. “I need directions to Maximillion’s place. I think one of my ladies is working for him.” He jotted down the address and pulled away his headquarters.
$$$
“…So then I told him I’d join in as long as he promised to replace my hip afterwards…” Angela tried to seem interested in the old man’s ‘short’ story, wavering in and out of thought.
When awoke, she had trouble taking in her new surroundings, forgetting again where she was. Her new boss, Maximillion, had hired her to take care of him while he was ill. He was a peculiar little man, but she admired him because he treated her like family. She searched the room, taking in every detail, wiping the crud away from her eyes before starting her day. A while later, Klaus entered the room, “Miss. McConnell, Mr. Max wants to have a word with you.” He stated. Angela stumbled down the long empty corridor that led to Maximillion’s room.
“You wanted to see me?” she cracked the door open slowly and cautiously walked in.
“Ah! Angela! Come sit.”
He patted the seat of the empty chair next to him. She sat down and stared at the ground before looking back up at him. “So, how are you this fine day?” he said with a big smile on his face. Angela smiled back, hesitantly at first, and then spoke softly,
“Fine, you?” She felt awkward just sitting there with him, having a normal and friendly conversation. They talked for a while longer before Margarette, the maid, announced that breakfast would be served in a moment. Angela quickly stood up and grabbed his wheelchair, trying to steady him as he wobbled out of his chair before Klaus took over.
“See you in 15 minutes!” he yelled over his shoulder as he was being pushed out the door.
$$$
“Where is she!?” asked Daryl aka “Baby-Shoes”.
“I told you, I don’t know where she went!” cried Tracy. Baby-Shoes grabbed Tracy by the arm, gripping her so tight that she began to wince in pain.
“I know you know where she is, because one of the girls told me that you two were talking right before she left.” Tracy looked away, unable to hide her guilt.
“She told me she was going to run away. Start a new life somewhere. She said she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life living like this…” Tracy stopped and waited for a reply. Baby-Shoes loosened his grip and held up her face so hat they were looking at each other directly in the eyes. Tracy started to speak again,
“…She went downtown and applied for a job to take care of some old man that she found in the papers. I think his name is Max, uh, Million.” Baby-Shoes thought for a moment before it clicked.
“Maximillion,” he said to himself. He turned to leave, pulling his phone out of his pocket calling one of his affiliates. “I need directions to Maximillion’s place. I think one of my ladies is working for him.” He jotted down the address and pulled away his headquarters.
$$$
“…So then I told him I’d join in as long as he promised to replace my hip afterwards…” Angela tried to seem interested in the old man’s ‘short’ story, wavering in and out of thought.
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Morgan Evans
5th
5/8/06
Immigration Project
Kennedy Township was founded by William Penn and James Speer in 1787. During this time, James Speer obtained a patent for land from William Penn, building the first brick house in the area known as Kennedy Township, or otherwise known as Kenmawr (The Scottish term meaning “more knowledge”). Distinguished Kennedy settlers contain the Clever family who migrated from Carlisle in 1825 by covered wagon. Around 1889, oil was drilled from the Clever farm. Later on in the 1920s, coal mining began; it was thought to be the most valuable source in the world. But with the newfound source of energy, an infamous strike began. Later on in 1947, the municipal building was dedicated at it present site, and the police department was officially organized. The first settlers of Kennedy Township were from European countries such as Germany, Ireland, Italy, Russia, Hungry, and etc. Others came from Canada and others parts of the U.S. The population of Kennedy, since the last census (2000), was 7,504 residents.
My family traces back to the middle of nowhere in Alabama (Linden, AL to be exact). I could only trace back as far as my great-grandpa, who is 91-years-old and still very active, but I know from what my parents and grandparents have told me, I’m part Native American (Cherokee), African-American (Black), and White. My great-grandmother was half Cherokee, and my great-great-great-grandfather was African. I could not find any evidence of any of my ancestors that participated in the Civil War. Part of my ancestry were natives of North America, and I was unable to trace back to my African roots to find out what country and city they deported from and my ancestors were brought here around the 1600-1700s.
The name Evans is an Old Welsh name, going back to those ancients Celts known as the Britons. It derives from the Welsh personal name Evan which is a cognate of the personal name John. It can be spelled various ways: Evans, Evance, Evands, Evanson, Evason, Evens, Evenson, and many more. Some of the first settlers with this name (or some of its variants) were Stephen Evan who settled in Philadelphia with his wife and two children. The last names King and Evans are very common; they can be found in every state in the U.S.
In 1962, my grandmother witnessed a boycott set up by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. in Selma, Alabama while she was studying to be a nurse. He staged a sit-in at a local diner that her cousin worked in, protesting (peacefully) against the restaurants that wouldn’t serve people of color. They sat at the booths and in the seats that usually only white customers were allowed to sit in. Later on, the police came and assaulted the protesters by using attack dogs, water hoses, metal pipes, bats, and etc. Many were injured, arrested, and taken to the hospital.
America is known for being a huge melting pot, but with the mixing of different races and cultures, it’s kind of difficult to keep track of your roots and your family’s history, especially if it isn’t recorded. Hopefully this small project has given you all some idea of what I am, who I am, and where I came from.
5th
5/8/06
Immigration Project
Kennedy Township was founded by William Penn and James Speer in 1787. During this time, James Speer obtained a patent for land from William Penn, building the first brick house in the area known as Kennedy Township, or otherwise known as Kenmawr (The Scottish term meaning “more knowledge”). Distinguished Kennedy settlers contain the Clever family who migrated from Carlisle in 1825 by covered wagon. Around 1889, oil was drilled from the Clever farm. Later on in the 1920s, coal mining began; it was thought to be the most valuable source in the world. But with the newfound source of energy, an infamous strike began. Later on in 1947, the municipal building was dedicated at it present site, and the police department was officially organized. The first settlers of Kennedy Township were from European countries such as Germany, Ireland, Italy, Russia, Hungry, and etc. Others came from Canada and others parts of the U.S. The population of Kennedy, since the last census (2000), was 7,504 residents.
My family traces back to the middle of nowhere in Alabama (Linden, AL to be exact). I could only trace back as far as my great-grandpa, who is 91-years-old and still very active, but I know from what my parents and grandparents have told me, I’m part Native American (Cherokee), African-American (Black), and White. My great-grandmother was half Cherokee, and my great-great-great-grandfather was African. I could not find any evidence of any of my ancestors that participated in the Civil War. Part of my ancestry were natives of North America, and I was unable to trace back to my African roots to find out what country and city they deported from and my ancestors were brought here around the 1600-1700s.
The name Evans is an Old Welsh name, going back to those ancients Celts known as the Britons. It derives from the Welsh personal name Evan which is a cognate of the personal name John. It can be spelled various ways: Evans, Evance, Evands, Evanson, Evason, Evens, Evenson, and many more. Some of the first settlers with this name (or some of its variants) were Stephen Evan who settled in Philadelphia with his wife and two children. The last names King and Evans are very common; they can be found in every state in the U.S.
In 1962, my grandmother witnessed a boycott set up by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. in Selma, Alabama while she was studying to be a nurse. He staged a sit-in at a local diner that her cousin worked in, protesting (peacefully) against the restaurants that wouldn’t serve people of color. They sat at the booths and in the seats that usually only white customers were allowed to sit in. Later on, the police came and assaulted the protesters by using attack dogs, water hoses, metal pipes, bats, and etc. Many were injured, arrested, and taken to the hospital.
America is known for being a huge melting pot, but with the mixing of different races and cultures, it’s kind of difficult to keep track of your roots and your family’s history, especially if it isn’t recorded. Hopefully this small project has given you all some idea of what I am, who I am, and where I came from.
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