This is a true story of a friend of mines friend, through which I will tell the story.

One day a couple of friends were driving over the Golden Gate Bridge in San Fransisco. It was three friends and the brakes locked on the persons car. The car locked and skidded to the side of the bridge. The person in the passenger seat went through the windshield and over the bridge.

... AND LIVED. She is alive today and tells the story all the time. She went over a bridge through a windshield and a car accident on one of the biggest bridges in the U.S.

Kudos.

​Prepare thyself.
By the hammer of Thor, I shall make the greatest cupcake the Walden household has ever known!

        Sincerely,
              
            Christine "The Cupcake Composer" Walden

P.S. Kudos on the crafty marketing.

Forgot I applied, but got in.

I may be up now but boy will I miss that hour of sleep when 6:15 am rolls around.

Seeing my cousins having the time of their lives while I'm stuck in America doing homework makes me want to go back home more than ever.

A little tap and I was told I killed my brother.

I hate to say I wish I could, but I haven't found the best way of succeeding. 

I wish I could write a poem that bled all of the thoughts from inside of my head, but I get so caught up in the stereo types of "creativity" that I get in my own way. 

Instead I'll simply release my thoughts one by one, and one day weave them together into one work of inspiration.

My grandmother saved our lives…One day my grandmother and I were almost hit by another car that had been hit. We were riding down a road in Lansdale, PA in her purple Chevy Chrysler; I was in the front seat. There was a car that had slowed down, possibly with the intent of turning, in the opposite lane. A red truck was following closely behind this car. Apparently the driver of the truck assumed that the car in front of him was going turn because he slowed down, and then accelerated as if the car had already made its “intended turn”. The vehicles collided, forcing the car practically into our lane. My grandmother quickly swerved farther into our lane and dodged a collision with that car. Her movement was swift and calm; I was impressed. I looked out of the back, left window of the Chrysler at the driver of the red truck who immediately jumped down from his truck and ran to the car. I thought he looked angry, but my grandmother assured that he was merely concerned. I will not say that this incident was life threatening, but…yes I will. I would like to thank my lovely grandmother for saving our lives or more realistically, protecting us from injury.

I was the most focused on college related material than I've ever been. I spent the entire day adding strangers on Facebook and looking for potential roommates if I happen to enroll into Penn State. I looked at all of the housing options and read the rules and policies of the dorms and halls. Every social page that was relative to Penn State had the saying "We Are" included somewhere. All of the accepted students were chanting this phrase, and all of the videos I watched has students yelling these words. I looked up the meaning behind "We Are... Penn State!" and found a video on youtube. A black man named Wally Triplett was PSU's first black football starter back in 1947. In 1948, Penn State was set to play in the Cotton Bowl against Southern Methodist University, but a black person had never played in the Cotton Bowl before. SMU wanted to meet with Penn State and suggest that they leave their black players behind. One of the guards, Steve Suhey commented, "We're Penn State. There will be no meetings." 

This later turned into the infamous slogan, "We Are... Penn State!"