I can still remember how i walked courageously in this other path of journey though i stumbled and fell a lot of time, i eventually learned to stand up. As i browsed through these, i remembered how i eventually crossed paths with my classmates who, in turn, became the closest friends i ever had. Our whole hearted friendship led us to our most favorite picture called ldquo last pose of our seminary life rdquo. The picture mainly showed the true value of companionship, contentment, and happiness each brings to another. It was just a quiet, simple morning of the last day of our seniors rsquo trip to baguio. Knowing it was the last time i would see my classmates until graduation day, i cherished every talk, every hug and every moment i had with my classmates.

In the late afternoon, as we finished munching mallows, drinking water, and eating lunch, we got a chance to take the last photo that made our bonds stronger than ever. As everything passed by so quickly, we posed all we got and concluded everything we have been sowing. As each of us took places, we smiled perfectly as if everything that happened for a long time just swiftly came to an end. I still can feel the gentle breeze blowing its breath towards me as i looked at our last photo together. The place where the photo was taken was telling us to grasp and to have a last glimpse of each one rsquo s own nature. And even though the natural and real feeling of love was unseen, we still embraced the feeling of companionship in each one rsquo s arms.

This journey, i must say, was worth moving forward and worth keeping because of all the treasured moments with my closest friends. With these moments, eventually i learned that each one is a companion to the other, that we can be contented with these treasures of friendship and that each one rsquo s company brings happiness to each other. i enjoyed writing this essay simply because i like what i am writing about and i just simply love writing it. Yes i am very with this as my static descriptive essay. my nose is overwhelmed with the smell of hairspray, baby powder, and a fruity perfume. There are too many girls in here, all struggling and fighting for a space near the mirror that covers the entire back wall. The only light is coming from the round vanity bulbs that line the top of the mirrors, making it so that the fluorescents don rsquo t impair what natural light reveals. I make my way to the red lockers on the right, squeezing past two of my fellow giggling cast members as they try to make their way out the swinging door.

After opening my locker, personalized with my name stickered on the front in purple sparkly letters, i get out my bulking make up bag and curling iron. My eyes dart across the room in search of an available outlet, hoping one even still exists within the chaos. I look around the base of the walls near the white and blue tiled floor, trying not to get annoyed at all the hair straighteners that are just sitting there unused and warming. I roll my eyes and sigh, i could be finished curling my hair by the time the straightener rsquo s owner even picks it up to begin taming their frizzy head.

I shouldn rsquo t be surprised though, this is always how the dressing room is an hour before the first show. Arms full of beauty products, and attempting to keep my curling iron rsquo s cord from dragging across the floor or getting stepped on by the constant rush of people moving about the small room. I finally spot someone unplugging her phone charger from the wall and jump on the opportunity to steal an outlet before anyone else notices. The counter beneath the mirror is covered in bronzer powder, used eyeliner pencils, and countless lost bobby pins. I slide my arm across the objects askew making them into messy pile in the corner. I rsquo m just grateful to have secured a spot near the mirror and outlet you rsquo d be surprised how stressed one can become when they don rsquo t have a place to get ready thirty minutes before it rsquo s time to take places on stage. I look in the mirror, face naked and hair in a messy bun, and realize i have a lot of work to do.

I spot my best friend and fellow lead in the corner near the sink, already in full costume and stage make up, peering down at her script in concentration. I smile to myself it rsquo s so typical of her to be trying to memorize her song lyrics at the last minute, but i know she rsquo ll be great. The stage manager walks in to announce that we only have a few more minutes to get ready before show circle, urging us to get a move on. In light of the excitement, i see one of my friends pull out her ipod and speakers and i know exactly what is coming.

Essay on Effects of Technology on Human Life

Nothing pumps you up before show more than rocking out to show tunes and dancing while you pat blush on your cheeks and fluff your hair. Ldquo i rsquo ll make a man out of you, rdquo in which literally everyone sings at the top of their lungs without hesitation or missing a beat. Mouth open wide putting on mascara, the finishing touch to my stage make up, i start bursting out laughing as one of my friends jumps on a chair wearing nothing but a sports bra and boy shorts and begins to dramatically sing into a hairbrush. I quickly remove the hair tie from my bun and brush out my ginger curls, swaying to the music at the same time.

I rsquo m so lucky to be playing the part of a horrible, mean, dirty, inn keepers wife ndash meaning that i pretty much just have to make my hair into a rat rsquo s nest in order to look the part. I pack up all my brushes and different shades of eye shadow, currently wearing the darkest shade of grey i could find, shove them in my bag without the intent to be organized, and head for the costume closet. Everyone is throwing off their t shirts and athletic shorts and getting into their eighteenth century french peasant costumes. I open the door to the closet and find, not to my surprise, even more people digging around looking for lost items of clothing.