Final Portfolio

        When it comes to self regulation you could probably say that I did terribly. In addition to my 3 week absence from school I skipped quite a bit of class getting me further behind than I was to begin with. I hadn't commented on anything either, any comment I did have would just be a suggestion I gave the others beside me verbally. The only time I truly tried to work was while I was in the classroom environment where there are not to many distractions that could deter me from working, and even then I barely published anything. I have been unable to do work on my own accord and have procrastinated until the very last moment to complete my work. I did however work more efficiently when it came to the two things that we had to do as a group. This is probably due to the fact that if I hadn't done the work I would have affected more than my mark, I would have jeopardized others' grades and that is something I refuse to do.

As you can see here my chart is completely blank. This is because I did not hand in any of my assignments(except for one) on time. Over all if I were to grade my self regulation I would give my self 14/33.


         A1 of the PLO'S is definitely one of my strengths.

I am more than capable of interacting and collaborating in pairs and groups. While in class I normally talk to others quite often about the work that we have been given. I had also enhanced many of my peers' ideas in many occasions. One of these occasions was when you had told us to think like Chris and watch out for red herrings.

While we had been discussing this I told them about the possibility of Mrs. Boone not being dead and that they may have actually just gotten divorced or had a conflict which could have caused them to separate.
20/33

I myself have done little to nothing to improve my classmates' learning through the internet but I have improved their learning while I am in class. However I have read through a few comments that you and someone (I prefer to keep the people I use as examples anonymous) else have given me and have improved my work through them. I also appreciate the motivation that my friends have been giving me to complete my work (hooray for friends!).
25/33

Mr. Linden's Library

Prologue

         I was on my way home when I noticed something that resembled an old school gymnasium which I had never seen before. "Strange" I murmured softly, I walked the same route from school everyday and yet somehow never noticed it. Out of curiosity I decided to have look inside. Once I had entered I saw row upon row of bookcases with books that seemed to be older than my great granny Higgins. Then I noticed an elderly man sitting on the desk directly in front of the entrance. "Hello" he said in an unwelcome tone. "Um, hi. Is this a bookstore by any chance?" I asked . The old man let out a frail laugh. "Do any of these books look new enough to sell boy?" he asked this as if I was a toddler. I've never much appreciated being treated like a child, so I said "Guess not, but at least these books are newer than you old man". Instead of becoming flustered he just smiled and said "You're probably right about that, and for your information this is a library". I had no idea what to say, so I just excused myself and had a look at the books. What a strange geezer he was, usually I could irritate them easily if I wanted to but this one was different. As I was wandering around a book caught my eye. It was a large book made out of brown leather with gold trimming on the edges and spine. I pulled it off the bookcase thinking it would be pretty heavy, but I was wrong. This book was as light as a feather but bigger than all the books that are smaller in size. The title of the book was "Mr. Linden's Library". I thought it was pretty cool so I took it to the old man and asked him if I could take it out. "You can take it out, but I must warn you. If you start reading this book you cant stop until it ends". I laughed hysterically. "Yeah, that sounds cool. I'll take it". He was treating me like an idiot again. "Ok then make sure you bring it back in two weeks" he said. "Alright, bye" I replied.

ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ ϟ 

        I got home around 7 pm because of my detour. Thankfully my parents were still at work. If they were here I'd be getting a lecture about how staying out late would get me jumped by hoodlums and what not, it's like they think I don't know any of that. I took off my shoes and went straight to my room. I then took the book out of my bag, laid down on my bed, and was about to start reading when my home phone rang. I walked out of my bedroom to the living room and than picked up the phone. "Packwit residence how may I help you?" I asked. "Hey Geff." it was my friend Henrick "I just wanted to call and remind you about the presentation tomorrow" he said. "Crud!" I yelled, I'd forgotten all about it. "OK, I'll figure something out. Thanks for reminding me". "No problem, see you tomorrow" he said before he hung up. I decided to hold off on reading the book so that I could get my presentation set up for tomorrow. I walked back up to my room and sat down on my mahogany desk directly across from my bed. I already had all the research material so I just needed to decide on how to present it. We were given 3 different ways we could present, we could present orally, with a movie, or as a skit. I didn't have enough time to make a movie or write a script so the obvious answer was to just present orally. I spent about an half an hour trying to write a speech but it was taking to long so I decided I would just read my research notes tomorrow and hope for the best. I put away my papers and laid down on my bed to have a nap when I realized how hungry I was. I walked downstairs to the kitchen and checked the fridge for any left overs. Sure enough there was some pasta that my mom had made the other day. I took a plateful and put in the microwave for a minute thirty. while I was waiting for it to finish heating up I saw my mom's car backing up into the driveway. The microwave finished heating up my food just before she turned her car off, so i took my food and walked up to my room quickly trying to get there before my mom could open the door. Thankfully I made it, i really didn't want her to know that I was having dinner at 8 pm. She'd ask me what I was doing and I'd have to tell her about the presentation that I forgot about. She'd be quite upset if she found out that I was doing it on the last day possible. I heard my mom's footsteps as she was climbing the stairs, several seconds later there was knocking on my door. "Geff? Are you there?" asked my mom. "Yea mom, I'm changing so don't open the door" I said while holding a fork full of pasta. "Ok, I'm going to go to bed early tonight. Don't stay up too late." she said as she walked away. After I was sure that she was gone I started shoving mouthfuls of pasta into my mouth as if I hadn't eaten in days. I finished up and took my plate downstairs in the kitchen sink. On my way back to my room I saw my dad sleeping on the couch. When did he get home? I didn't even hear the door open. I didn't really want to know why he was sleeping on the couch instead of his bed so I just walked back to my room quietly. Once I was inside my room I remembered about the book that I had gotten from the old man. I took the book of my desk and laid down on my bed with a yawn. This really was a strange book, never had I seen a book so big but feel so light. I opened the book and written on the center was "Welcome to Mr. Linden's Library". Suddenly my lights turned off and it was pitch black. Something that felt like a slimy bony hand grabbed me and covered my mouth. I felt drowzy all of sudden and fell asleep before I knew it.

He warned him about the book, and now it was too late.

How is Your Heart?

        I believe that he would be better of if he wasn't content with his life. No one should be OK with living in an old motel or be OK with having crude relationships with women. I don't think there is anything wrong with the women being prostitutes, it's just that he should not go around calling his partner a whore. He is constantly getting drunk and possibly getting in fights all the time before he comes back home to his old motel room at night. His experiences should have caused him to wake up and find a way to make his life better. If he were to try harder to make his life better than he would be happy not just content. He could be living in an average house sitting down watching T.V., married with children and living the good old western lifestyle, instead he is stuck with minimal pay with small jobs. It's too bad that he was content.

Tattoo Assingment

If I had to get a tattoo it would look like this. I'd prefer it to be simple. The lettering is made in a way so that it reflects my Chinese grandfathers background. Ahyeng is my last name and I am extremely proud in being a part of this family. This name is actually my mother's maiden name, however due to certain circumstances I use this name as my last name. I am unaware of any other last name i may have. I would put this tattoo on the left side of my chest symbolizing my heart. It wouldn't be awfully big just big enough so that I can clearly see it in the mirror. I hope that when people see my tattoo they will understand how much i care about my family. The only core value this represents is my love for my family.

To a Stranger

The poet isn't talking about an actual person. I believe that he is just talking hypothetically about the person he may love. This person may be a boy or a girl meaning he is confused about his sexuality. He is probably thinking something like "I am a man and yet why is it that I am finding myself attracted to other men?". Until recently homo-sexuality has been considered unacceptable, so instead of making a poem that directly relates him to it he decides to make a vague line that other "gay" people may be able to relate to.

Who killed Wellington?

        Wellington was found dead with a pitchfork stabbed into his body at 12:07 am, yet somehow the killer still roams free. The police refuse to investigate his death due to the fact that he is a dog. Now to our friend Chris a murder is a murder no matter who or what the victim is. That is why he began to search for clues in order to find the culprit of this mystery homicide. However, little does he know that a man living in the same house as him is who he has been looking for. The name of this man is Mr. Boone.

       Throughout the story so far Mr. Boone has been continuously telling Chris not to do any detective work in regards to Wellington's death. Of course at first we were thinking that he just didn't want to let Chris get into trouble and that he was protecting him. However, if this is the case then why does he allow Chris to take night time strolls by HIMSELF at hours past 12 am. When we realized this we began to speculate that perhaps Mr. Boone had an ulterior motive. He was trying to stop Chris from investigating because he knows that his son has the capabilities of solving this mystery, and once his son figures out this murder case his secret will be out.

        Some may argue that Mr. Boone is innocent because the weapon used to kill was a pitchfork that is most likely a part of Mrs. Shears' garden set located inside a locked shed. Now if you think carefully about how Mrs. Shears had "helped" Mr. Boone when Mrs. Boone passed away, there is the possibility of them hooking up which could have led to Mr. Boone receiving a spare key from Mrs. Shears for the shed. That just blew away the issue didn't it?

        The goal or object of a person's actions is called a motive. So what was Mr. Boone's motive? There's only one thing it could have been, and that's revenge. He wanted to hurt Mrs. Shears for some strange reason. He probably believed that Mrs. Shears cared more about the dog than him when they were getting together and decided that killing the dog would make Mrs. Shears want to be together with him. Even a petty reason like this can lead to a murder especially if one is under the influence.

       Out of anyone in this story Mr. Boone must be the dog murderer. He just fits the bill extremely well. Lets just hope Chris doesn't freak out too much when he finds out.

Man from the South

Plot

Introduction: A man who is later known as the feree describes his surroundings.

Conflict: The conflict is the bet that is made between the sailor and Carlos.

Rising Action: The sailor had his hand tied to the table with a knife held by the old Cuban man hovering right above his hand ready to strike if his lighter was to miss even one strike. The sailor began lighting the lighter with the protagonist calling out how many times he lit the lighter.

Climax: " 'Eight!' I said, and as I said it the door opened. We all turned and we saw a woman standing in the doorway, a small, black-haired woman, rather old, who stood there for about two seconds then rushed forward shouting, 'Carlos! Carlos!' She grabbed his wrist, took the chopper from him, threw it on the bed, took hold of the little man by the lapels of his white suit and began shaking him very vigorously, talking to him fast and loud and fiercely all the time in some Spanish-sounding language."

Falling Action: The woman who was scolding Carlos explained that he had nothing at all to bet with and that everything he had once owned now belonged to her.

Denouement: The protagonist gave the keys back to the woman. Thats when he saw her hand, it had only one finger and a thumb.

Character

Protagonist: Carlos

Antagonist: The urge to gamble(addiction)

Static: Referee

Round: Carlos

Flat: English Girl

Stock character: Sailor

Dynamic: Carlos

Setting

Atmosphere: The story seemed to have a bit of a chilly feel to it. It started when the old man began talking about the bet.

Time: Took place at 6 pm. The year, month, and day are all unknown.

Place: A hotel somewhere in the Caribbean. Takes place both on the pool side and inside Carlos' room. 

Theme: Never trust someone that you just met.

Point of View: First person

Foreshadowing