范例二：法学专业方向
@Michelle C.
我的辩论队友曾经建议我：“如果你输掉一场比赛，就要丢弃比赛时穿的衣服。” “这不切实际，”我回答道。 “你不再穿输掉重要辩论回合时的衣服，这同样不切实际。服饰与成功的关系不大。” 一半的我不同意他的看法。但我每次仍会带三支0.7的BIC圆珠笔参加考试，因为我的直觉告诉我，这样的“吹毛求疵”会提高我的分数。我仍然相信，如果使用Calibri字体，会得到更好的成绩。而且我也不会再穿输掉重要辩论回合时的衣服。
然而，另一半的我对自己的迷信行为不屑一顾。我喜欢逻辑，总能以合理的推理得出准确的结论。 幸运的是，我经常放弃对实用主义的偏爱，以适应自己毫无根据的迷信。
我认为只需要在特定情况下按逻辑行事，因而坦然接受自己不合逻辑的天性。 我与曾祖母、祖父母以及父母在同一个屋檐下长大，总有人帮我记录农历的韩国假期。然而，每当家里四代人用传统韩式烤肉庆祝节日时，我无法溯源且并不存在的意大利血统就会表示抗议。
我叛逆地给自己煮了蛤蜊意面，而这与妈妈的辣泡菜格格不入。 如果我绘制一张“锻炼时长”与“星期”的图表，那么看起来会像是一个不规则的心动周期。上升波段象征着我冲浪时与巨大水墙的斗争，以期顺利滑回海滩。接下来的下降波段反映了我在辩论队活动室搜索资料但仍未完成论文的时间，或者在弹奏阿黛尔的最新曲。
然后舒张期的宁静被周末的打断，在我最爱的射击比赛中，我正冲刺穿越战壕，避免被敌方的彩弹击中。 我在熟悉的地方找到安慰。我很珍惜和哥哥的日常午夜聊天，在为朋友的生日烤纸杯蛋糕时，我们保持安静避免吵醒妈妈和她“你会感染沙门氏菌”的唠叨。
然而，我最美好的一些回忆是和那些与我截然不同的人交谈。无论是关于卡塔尔教练对于科威特女性投票模式的研究，还是关于“通用应用程序”和牛津大学面试之间的差异，甚至是朋友的瑞典学校只在周三强制穿校服的特殊政策，我都喜欢与来自不同国家的人探讨文化差异。
我的行为是不可预测的。然而，它是可预测的不可预测。当然，我永远不会像人们想象的那样享用韩式晚餐。只要闻到泡菜的味道，我就会煮意大利面。
点评：这些丰富的细节让读者深入了解到，是什么让米歇尔成为一个充满好奇心、性格鲜明并对事物采取不同态度的人。
以下是英文原文——
@Michelle C.
“You should scrub off the top layer of your skin whenever you lose a round,” my debate teammate once advised me.
“That’s not practical,” I replied.
“Neither is your refusal to wear clothes you’ve lost important debate rounds in. Your wardrobe has very little to do with your success.”
Half of me disagrees with him. I still bring three BIC Round Stic pencils with 0.7 lead to every test because my gut tells me this fastidious procedure raises my scores. I’m still convinced that labs receive better grades if written in Calibri. And I still won’t rewear clothes in which I’ve lost crucial rounds.
Yet the other half of me is equally dismissive of my own superstitions. I love logic, never failing to check that steps in a proof lead to a precise conclusion without gaps in reasoning.
Fortunately, I often abandon my penchant for pragmatism to accommodate for my unwarranted superstitions. And since I only feel the need to act logicalcally in selective situations, I am perfectly content with the illogical nature of my other habits:
Raised with my great-grandmother, grandparents, and parents all under one roof, I never lacked a consultant to help me transcribe Korean holiday dates from the lunar calendar onto my schedule. Yet whenever all four generations of my family celebrates with a traditional meal of bulgogi, my untraceable and admittedly nonexistent Italian blood flares in protest; I rebelliously cook myself linguine con le vongole that clashes terribly with my mom’s pungent kimchi.
If I plot a graph of “hours I spend in physical activity” versus “week of the year,” the result looks like an irregular cardiac cycle. The upsurges symbolize my battles with colossal walls of water in hopes of catching a smooth surf back to Mission Bay shore. The ensuing period of rest mirrors the hours I spend researching in that one spot in my debate team’s war room that isn’t covered in papers (yet), or at the piano sight-reading the newest Adele song. Then the diastolic tranquility is interrupted by the weekends when I’m sprinting through trenches to avoid paintballs swarming above my favorite arena at Paintball USA.
I find comfort in the familiar. I treasure the regular midnight chats with my brother as we indulge in batter while baking cupcakes for a friend’s birthday, keeping our voices hushed to avoid waking our mom and facing her “salmonella is in your near future” lecture.
Yet, some of my fondest memories involve talking to people with whom I share nothing in common. Whether my conversations are about the Qatari coach’s research on Kuwait’s female voting patterns, or about the infinite differences between the “common app” and the Oxford interviewing process, or even about my friend’s Swedish school’s peculiar policy of mandating uniforms only on Wednesdays, I love comparing cultures with debaters from different countries.
My behavior is unpredictable. Yet it’s predictably unpredictable. Sure, I’ll never eat a Korean dinner like one might expect. But I’ll always be cooking linguine the moment I catch a whiff of kimchi.
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