How to Format Papers into MLA

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Adventures in Paris

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Eve Thompson Ms. Asuncion 21 October 2015 Adventures in Paris             When I was eleven years old, my grandparents took my mom and me on a week-long trip to the city of lights itself, Paris, France. We flew on separate flights over and back, as my grandparents had plans to go to England as well. Little did I know that this trip held surprises I would never forget.             My mom and I flew on a red-eye flight over, and my first taste of Paris was the very large and somewhat frightening Charles de Gaulle Airport. It was a labyrinth of sorts, with hotels on one side, the terminals on the other, and the cute little cafés that are typical to airports. We almost got lost trying to find our way through it. We purchased train tickets to get to our hotel, which was far away from Charles de Gaulle. When we boarded the train, the sight was unexpected. The benches were...
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Ronan Stone Ms. Asuncion English 9 Honors, Block 1 12 October 2016 February 22, 2011 If you’d asked nine-year-old me what he wanted to be when he grew up, he’d probably say a-l-o-t, of stuff. First, he would probably say that he wanted to be Batman. Later he’d probably change his mind, over and over and over. Then he’d wind back up as Batman. Yes, I wanted to be Batman when I was nine. Who didn’t? In 2007, my family decided to leave the US and move to New Zealand. For those of you who don’t know where that is for some reason, it’s about 100 miles south of that that thinks-its-so-cool-but-it-ain’t-really continent known to some as Koala Land, and to the rest as Australia. If you ask my parents why they decided to move to land-down-under-the-land-down-under, they would say that it was to raise their children. The public schools in New Zealand perfect if you have little kids. When we moved, I was more excited at that point than I had been in my entire life. It was a uniqu...
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Manali Gantaram Ms. Asuncion English 9H 8 December 2015 The Last Friday in October          Finally, it’s Friday, I think to myself as I step on to my bus to go home. It definitely felt like one of the longer weeks because of all the back-to- back tests and quizzes I had. And it’s only the second month of high school.         “Rachel, over here!” my best friend Holly yells from the back of the bus.          I make my way over to her, juggling my violin case, binder, and lacrosse stick through the narrow bus aisle.         “Rachel, did you hear about what happened to that one boy?” she asks, not bothering to greet me.         “Can you elaborate? That one boy isn’t necessarily specific.” I reply with a sarcastic edge to my voice.         “Everyone’s been talking about it! Ok, so you know that one little boy who used to play with...
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