The bowl had sat on the table for days. Bright blue rocks glittered across the bottom, a plastic plant was wedged among them. Everything was perfect, except for the lack of water, and, of course, the fish. Though there was careful time and planning on all other aspects, everyone had lost their urge and motivation to actually buy the fish due to, well, really just plain laziness. The ten minutes drive to the store was just too far.
Finally, after about a week of the vacant fish dwelling, the big day came to finally occupy it. Soon, 3 large goldfish became part of the family. Everyone became deeply involved in the way they should be taken care of, from water temperature to where would be the best place to set them for best light exposure… These had to have been some of the best pampered fish that ever were. Then, they died. It hadn’t even been more than 3 days until they decided to leave this cold, cruel, harsh world and meet their maker.
Arguments soon erupted. “You stressed them! You’re constantly yelling and bringing bad energy into this room! They died of a broken heart!”
“Well you kept having to tap on the stupid bowl. They probably died from germ and disease exposure.”
“YOU keep shaking the table they’re on. They probably have brain damage.”
“Well, YOU’RE the one that bought the most sickly fish in the tank.”
“Oh yeah? Well…you’re fat.”
Chaos erupted, until a small voice chimed out, “Wait, did anyone actually… feed the fish?”
Everyone assumed that the others took care of that, so, in fact, no one had.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Smoldering
Several students stood huddled outside, staring expectantly at the school building. The blaring fire alarm could be heard from the parking lot they were waiting in. Inside, two students, Trevor and Melissa, were anxiously standing in the smoke-filled lobby, frantically waving books, trying to clear the room. It was hard to see through the thick fog, however they did catch a glimpse of the principal storming through the school, looking for the culprits. He didn’t even have to see them to know. “Trevor? Melissa?! I know you’re up there!” In a panic, they darted out of the nearest door fearing for their lives, and a loud boom echoed through the building after it slammed shut behind them.
It had been a good idea at the time. However, it was not the first occasion where they were caught doing something incredibly stupid. This, however, in their minds, was going to be the best idea they’ve had in a long while. But their plan backfired, as everything they almost ever did tend to do.
Trevor lugged the heavy fog machine up the stairs to the second level of the school. This was going to be great! He and Melissa were making a video combining everything that happened within that school year as a joke for the last talent show. The idea was to make it complete with special effects; hence the fog machine.
“Wait, Trevor, I’m a little worried. What if this sets off the alarm?”
“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. Fog is just water. Water doesn’t set off smoke detectors.” Well. That was explained very well. It was such a good argument that it was almost a shock to learn that it was giant misconception.
Soon, the air was thick with fog. But they didn’t stop there. This had to be good. This had to be the greatest movie, filled with the most awe-inspiring special effects. They pushed the button, and more fog shot out, snaking its way down the hallway.
All of a sudden, a loud, screaming noise erupted. The smoke detectors had gone off, and the two students anxiously ran, grabbing books and anything they could find to calm the ear-piercing roar.
Oops.
Doors banged open one after another as students evacuated the school building, staring wide-eyed down the smoldering hallways. Shortly after, Trevor and Melissa had hysterically beat away the smoke, and the shrill alarms fell silent once more. All was well in their world, if only for a few seconds. They could see the principal headed in their general direction, and they retreated in a panic.
They would return only after the anger was gone, and there was only humor in the situation. They had a lot of experience with getting out of trouble before, as they were no strangers to the principal and his staff. Twenty minutes later they walked into the office, heads hung low, puppy-dog-eyes set, and the cord of the now sleeping fog machine dragging behind them. Needless to say, they ended the year with a big bang, which was all they ever wanted to do.
It had been a good idea at the time. However, it was not the first occasion where they were caught doing something incredibly stupid. This, however, in their minds, was going to be the best idea they’ve had in a long while. But their plan backfired, as everything they almost ever did tend to do.
Trevor lugged the heavy fog machine up the stairs to the second level of the school. This was going to be great! He and Melissa were making a video combining everything that happened within that school year as a joke for the last talent show. The idea was to make it complete with special effects; hence the fog machine.
“Wait, Trevor, I’m a little worried. What if this sets off the alarm?”
“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. Fog is just water. Water doesn’t set off smoke detectors.” Well. That was explained very well. It was such a good argument that it was almost a shock to learn that it was giant misconception.
Soon, the air was thick with fog. But they didn’t stop there. This had to be good. This had to be the greatest movie, filled with the most awe-inspiring special effects. They pushed the button, and more fog shot out, snaking its way down the hallway.
All of a sudden, a loud, screaming noise erupted. The smoke detectors had gone off, and the two students anxiously ran, grabbing books and anything they could find to calm the ear-piercing roar.
Oops.
Doors banged open one after another as students evacuated the school building, staring wide-eyed down the smoldering hallways. Shortly after, Trevor and Melissa had hysterically beat away the smoke, and the shrill alarms fell silent once more. All was well in their world, if only for a few seconds. They could see the principal headed in their general direction, and they retreated in a panic.
They would return only after the anger was gone, and there was only humor in the situation. They had a lot of experience with getting out of trouble before, as they were no strangers to the principal and his staff. Twenty minutes later they walked into the office, heads hung low, puppy-dog-eyes set, and the cord of the now sleeping fog machine dragging behind them. Needless to say, they ended the year with a big bang, which was all they ever wanted to do.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Venture 2, The Fly | Melissa Erickson
It was hot. Not as beastly as some days, but still hot nonetheless. Beauty was everywhere, and we were to spend a rare moment of appreciation for the exquisiteness surrounding us. It truly was breathtaking. I walked along the pebbled pathway and found a small, secluded area under the shade of a leafy tree. It was cooler under there, and I sat down to observe the nature around me. Birds chirped, bushes rustled, mountains towered; it was incredible. A small buzzing filled my ear. Under the mindset of admiring all of Mother Nature’s children, the small buzzing in my ear was like a masterpiece for me. I listened for a moment, and gave the small fly a chance to sing its melody before gently swatting it away. Seconds later, it came back. Not yet annoyed, I kindly guided it away. I again tried to focus until the little demon came back a split moment later. He landed on my wrist, and began the long climb up my arm. He was tiny, and his microscopic legs tickled my skin as he maneuvered his way across it.
Looking closely, I could see his eyes; giant compared to the rest of him proportionately, anyway. His tiny wings fluttered as he gave up on his hike, and instead flew up to my shoulder. Agitated now, I flicked him away, only to have him return yet again. More violent this time, I angrily swatted at him, hoping to send the subtle message: “Leave me alone dangit! Don’t you understand that I’m trying to find an appreciation for nature?! Go away! I hate you!”
He seemed to understand for a fraction of a minute; but only that. Again he returned, now the only purpose in his short, measly little life to annoy the hell out of me. Not only that, but within his last departure, he rounded up all of his other buzzing little friends who came to crawl in my ear, across my forehead, and down my arms. This was ridiculous. The buzzing that was once harmonic now morphed into an obnoxious roar. Each miniature insect had looked very similar to the fly I had become acquainted with in the beginning. Small round bodies, tiny skinny legs, buzzing wings, and giant eyes, they all swarmed around me, distracting me from my purpose of enjoying the wonders around me.
Finally, it was time to go. With once happy, turned homicidal thoughts, I set out down the pebbled path lined with bushes, flowers, and trees. Our task was to appreciate nature. It had been a very productive experience.
Looking closely, I could see his eyes; giant compared to the rest of him proportionately, anyway. His tiny wings fluttered as he gave up on his hike, and instead flew up to my shoulder. Agitated now, I flicked him away, only to have him return yet again. More violent this time, I angrily swatted at him, hoping to send the subtle message: “Leave me alone dangit! Don’t you understand that I’m trying to find an appreciation for nature?! Go away! I hate you!”
He seemed to understand for a fraction of a minute; but only that. Again he returned, now the only purpose in his short, measly little life to annoy the hell out of me. Not only that, but within his last departure, he rounded up all of his other buzzing little friends who came to crawl in my ear, across my forehead, and down my arms. This was ridiculous. The buzzing that was once harmonic now morphed into an obnoxious roar. Each miniature insect had looked very similar to the fly I had become acquainted with in the beginning. Small round bodies, tiny skinny legs, buzzing wings, and giant eyes, they all swarmed around me, distracting me from my purpose of enjoying the wonders around me.
Finally, it was time to go. With once happy, turned homicidal thoughts, I set out down the pebbled path lined with bushes, flowers, and trees. Our task was to appreciate nature. It had been a very productive experience.
Venture 2, The Flowered Bush | Melissa Erickson
Against the clear backdrop of the blue sky, the yellow-flowered bush rustled and swayed with the slight breeze passing through. It had a faint, flowery scent that was carried through the air with the wind. Always dancing, always moving, the plant seemed to tease the other shrubbery near it, leaning deep to one side, then snapping abruptly back up again, only to tilt the opposite direction; playing and laughing. It seemed to have a mind of its own; however it was only the puffs of air controlling its every move. Without a care in the world, the bush seemed so unique, so care-free.
There were a number of them, actually. Several yellow-flowered bushes lined the windy dirt pathway; however each was its own. Each plant seemed to have its own personality, and some looked to have not noticed any of the others. Some reached out to neighboring shrubs and weeds, while others spread their branches out to the sun. A lone, solitary bush did not swing as much as the others, smaller and moodier, in addition to further down the path where an extremely popular bush swayed and socialized with the many that grew beside it.
The breeze died down, and with it, so did the many flowered bushes. Without the aid of their gusting friend, they lost the urge to dance and play. For a moment the air was calm, along with the nature within it. However, it was only a moment. Seconds later, the breeze picked up again, and the games began again.
There were a number of them, actually. Several yellow-flowered bushes lined the windy dirt pathway; however each was its own. Each plant seemed to have its own personality, and some looked to have not noticed any of the others. Some reached out to neighboring shrubs and weeds, while others spread their branches out to the sun. A lone, solitary bush did not swing as much as the others, smaller and moodier, in addition to further down the path where an extremely popular bush swayed and socialized with the many that grew beside it.
The breeze died down, and with it, so did the many flowered bushes. Without the aid of their gusting friend, they lost the urge to dance and play. For a moment the air was calm, along with the nature within it. However, it was only a moment. Seconds later, the breeze picked up again, and the games began again.
Venture 2, The Mountain | Melissa Erickson
It was breathtaking. The red rock extended upward, gracing the sky with its edged tip; its sides dotted with green shrubs and trees. A large white truck drove past, however its huge size was completely dwarfed just by the base of the mountain alone. There are times when a person can feel on top of the world; that there’s nothing bigger. However, watching that mountain and everything it towered over made me feel almost insignificant.
Whenever I saw a mountain, or even a hill, I never stopped to think or appreciate it. But when I actually took time to realize and understand the true beauty of its magnitude, it was incredible. Everything within reach of its very shadow was so minute; even things that we normally think of as quite large, such as a tree or the white truck that drove by.
Not only was its size remarkable, but the fact that it took thousands of years for it to take on the form it now possesses. Each rock and crevice has taken centuries to be sculpted, but it is not, and never will be, finished with its artistry. Ten, twenty, or even a hundred years from now, it will still be changing, shifting, altering; never satisfied for even a moment, and always finding ways to improve. We can come back year after year; finding new additions such as trees or shrubs, and even find a rockslide changed the look of the cliff completely.
It stands tall, reaching upward to embrace the clear blue sky. Silent and proud, the immense mountain will never remain the same, always changing, shifting, and altering…
Whenever I saw a mountain, or even a hill, I never stopped to think or appreciate it. But when I actually took time to realize and understand the true beauty of its magnitude, it was incredible. Everything within reach of its very shadow was so minute; even things that we normally think of as quite large, such as a tree or the white truck that drove by.
Not only was its size remarkable, but the fact that it took thousands of years for it to take on the form it now possesses. Each rock and crevice has taken centuries to be sculpted, but it is not, and never will be, finished with its artistry. Ten, twenty, or even a hundred years from now, it will still be changing, shifting, altering; never satisfied for even a moment, and always finding ways to improve. We can come back year after year; finding new additions such as trees or shrubs, and even find a rockslide changed the look of the cliff completely.
It stands tall, reaching upward to embrace the clear blue sky. Silent and proud, the immense mountain will never remain the same, always changing, shifting, and altering…
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
A Life-Changing Night | Melissa Erickson
The night was quiet; calm. The only disturbances came from the cool, light breeze dancing playfully across leaves and branches, making them rustle with delight, and the crickets teasing with their calls to one another. We sat on the balcony, enjoying the pleasure of one another’s company, and the serenity of the dark. Looking out into the black, slightly speckled starry sky, commotion from down below caught our eye.
Three boys slithered through the night, whispering, hushing each other, and giving off an extremely ominous presence. We peered over the edge of our railing; confused and slightly nervous. They made hand gestures to communicate with one another, creeping under the windows of the building across from us. Spreading out, they each crouched below the glass. Even the breeze stopped to hold its breath as we waited to see the result of this abnormal activity. All of a sudden, they sprang up, banged against the window, and ran away cackling.
Well, needless to say, this was very anticlimactic. I suppose we don’t really know what we were expecting. Of course we didn’t want anything bad or harmful to occur, but with all that planning, all the secrecy…we wanted a big bang; or at least a dull roar.
The safety of the lights flashed on almost immediately, and girls scrambled to the window in chaos. Lifting up the glass, they saw us and called out: “Did you see what happened? Who was that?! Where did they go?” We told them the very brief amount of information we knew.
“Three boys just came and ran to your window. Then they ran away down that street.”
“Oh. Did you see them? What did they look like? Who are they? Why did they do that?”
Girls. We apologize. However, we have NO idea who these men were, and could care less about their intention of frightening you in the late hours of the night. Quite frankly, we gave you our answer, helped you to the best of our knowledge, and would quite like to be left alone now, and resume the peacefulness of our once-pleasant porch. “No, we don’t know anything else. Sorry”
Now there are girls coming outside, peering up at us. “Where did they go?!” These obviously are not the same group of young women who we have answered before. If they are, they have the memory span of a goldfish. “Do you know who they are? What happened?”
Growing slowly agitated, we repeat our answer. “There were three guys who came up to your window, knocked on it, and ran away that direction.”
The girls are confused. Many of them spin at once, all in opposite directions of where we are pointing. Thinking that they will now deal with this problem on our own, we again settle down into the comfort of the nighttime. We are left alone for just moments, until we hear a piercing cry cut the once-serene outdoors. “Where are they?! Who is it?! Why did they do that?!”
Once again girls, we only saw a split moment of this heinous crime. Please do not expect us to leap off our porch, and run to you hysterically screaming about details we have no way of even possibly knowing. The story was simple. We told you everything. It would be wrong of us to tell you the story of three, perfectly described men who crept through the night so that they may gaze upon the women they love. However, since the blinds were drawn, they were filled with rage and beat against the glass in the anger of their true heart’s desires being hidden away.
It would also not be ethical of us to tell you the story of three lost Chipendale dancers who were knocking against windows in desperation for a place to stay and shield themselves from the biting 80 degree weather. Once inside, they would express their gratitude by performing a spectacular dance number for you, and perhaps even marry some of you. Since you were too late to come to the window, they darted down the street and ended up staying at your best friend’s apartment. You will be getting a wedding invitation in two weeks.
You don’t seem satisfied with our simple: “Three boys. That way.” You also seem to think that we may be lying to you. You’re confused why we can’t describe them exactly from our bird’s eye view from above the incident. It’s almost as if you blame us that we didn’t take advantage of the bright, sheer blinding light of the moon, and make sketches of who these male predators were.
Ever so slowly, they trickle back inside their homes, peering suspiciously out their windows, drawing up the blinds to catch the sneakers if they come on the prowl again. Their lives will be ever-changed by that shocking, and truly frightening night.
Three boys slithered through the night, whispering, hushing each other, and giving off an extremely ominous presence. We peered over the edge of our railing; confused and slightly nervous. They made hand gestures to communicate with one another, creeping under the windows of the building across from us. Spreading out, they each crouched below the glass. Even the breeze stopped to hold its breath as we waited to see the result of this abnormal activity. All of a sudden, they sprang up, banged against the window, and ran away cackling.
Well, needless to say, this was very anticlimactic. I suppose we don’t really know what we were expecting. Of course we didn’t want anything bad or harmful to occur, but with all that planning, all the secrecy…we wanted a big bang; or at least a dull roar.
The safety of the lights flashed on almost immediately, and girls scrambled to the window in chaos. Lifting up the glass, they saw us and called out: “Did you see what happened? Who was that?! Where did they go?” We told them the very brief amount of information we knew.
“Three boys just came and ran to your window. Then they ran away down that street.”
“Oh. Did you see them? What did they look like? Who are they? Why did they do that?”
Girls. We apologize. However, we have NO idea who these men were, and could care less about their intention of frightening you in the late hours of the night. Quite frankly, we gave you our answer, helped you to the best of our knowledge, and would quite like to be left alone now, and resume the peacefulness of our once-pleasant porch. “No, we don’t know anything else. Sorry”
Now there are girls coming outside, peering up at us. “Where did they go?!” These obviously are not the same group of young women who we have answered before. If they are, they have the memory span of a goldfish. “Do you know who they are? What happened?”
Growing slowly agitated, we repeat our answer. “There were three guys who came up to your window, knocked on it, and ran away that direction.”
The girls are confused. Many of them spin at once, all in opposite directions of where we are pointing. Thinking that they will now deal with this problem on our own, we again settle down into the comfort of the nighttime. We are left alone for just moments, until we hear a piercing cry cut the once-serene outdoors. “Where are they?! Who is it?! Why did they do that?!”
Once again girls, we only saw a split moment of this heinous crime. Please do not expect us to leap off our porch, and run to you hysterically screaming about details we have no way of even possibly knowing. The story was simple. We told you everything. It would be wrong of us to tell you the story of three, perfectly described men who crept through the night so that they may gaze upon the women they love. However, since the blinds were drawn, they were filled with rage and beat against the glass in the anger of their true heart’s desires being hidden away.
It would also not be ethical of us to tell you the story of three lost Chipendale dancers who were knocking against windows in desperation for a place to stay and shield themselves from the biting 80 degree weather. Once inside, they would express their gratitude by performing a spectacular dance number for you, and perhaps even marry some of you. Since you were too late to come to the window, they darted down the street and ended up staying at your best friend’s apartment. You will be getting a wedding invitation in two weeks.
You don’t seem satisfied with our simple: “Three boys. That way.” You also seem to think that we may be lying to you. You’re confused why we can’t describe them exactly from our bird’s eye view from above the incident. It’s almost as if you blame us that we didn’t take advantage of the bright, sheer blinding light of the moon, and make sketches of who these male predators were.
Ever so slowly, they trickle back inside their homes, peering suspiciously out their windows, drawing up the blinds to catch the sneakers if they come on the prowl again. Their lives will be ever-changed by that shocking, and truly frightening night.
Snakes...On a Plane | Melissa Erickson
There comes a time in life, when you spend time pondering the meaning of your existence. You spend hours, days, months even; and finally come up with the main focus points of your life:"Why am I here?""What is my purpose in life?""What happens after death?""What does balsa wood taste like?""Gee, that would suck if I was allergic to oxygen."
Yes, I have recently gone through one of these intense days after one of my friends brought home the smashing hit Snakes.....ON A PLANE. Now, if there are some of you unfamiliar with this title, it is a jam-packed action movie about snakes; on a plane. Of course it’s a lot more complicated than it sounds. First of all, there are people trying to avoid the snakes…on a plane. Secondly…well, that’s pretty much it.
However, one can take this movie as a learning experience. One just has to look deeper, beyond the surface. Deep down, this is a re-telling of the ancient story of man vs. nature, in the most extreme conditions. While some poke fun of, and mock the otherwise ridiculous and simplistic story-line of the show, others can only be struck speechless by its hidden beauty. An incredibly powerful and awe inspiring story of the modern re-telling of prejudice between two species. Nevertheless, while a whopping .000000002% of the population long to make this film an American Classic, the rest don’t seem to share the same feelings and rush of similar emotions.
It makes one want to question whether or not the film would have made a greater impact if it dealt with another species, or even another location. Was the utter failure of this movie based on a class that people felt no connection to? Would it have touched everyone’s hearts if the idea surrounded a group of animals that people could relate to more? Or a location that everyone felt more comfortable with? How about Elephants in New York, or Aardvarks, in Your Cereal Box, or perhaps we could even go so far as to create the chilling thriller: Fish…in Your Garbage Disposal.
Only a daring writer and director could team together to solve this critical problem. Until then, we are only left to wonder with suspense…and wait.
Yes, I have recently gone through one of these intense days after one of my friends brought home the smashing hit Snakes.....ON A PLANE. Now, if there are some of you unfamiliar with this title, it is a jam-packed action movie about snakes; on a plane. Of course it’s a lot more complicated than it sounds. First of all, there are people trying to avoid the snakes…on a plane. Secondly…well, that’s pretty much it.
However, one can take this movie as a learning experience. One just has to look deeper, beyond the surface. Deep down, this is a re-telling of the ancient story of man vs. nature, in the most extreme conditions. While some poke fun of, and mock the otherwise ridiculous and simplistic story-line of the show, others can only be struck speechless by its hidden beauty. An incredibly powerful and awe inspiring story of the modern re-telling of prejudice between two species. Nevertheless, while a whopping .000000002% of the population long to make this film an American Classic, the rest don’t seem to share the same feelings and rush of similar emotions.
It makes one want to question whether or not the film would have made a greater impact if it dealt with another species, or even another location. Was the utter failure of this movie based on a class that people felt no connection to? Would it have touched everyone’s hearts if the idea surrounded a group of animals that people could relate to more? Or a location that everyone felt more comfortable with? How about Elephants in New York, or Aardvarks, in Your Cereal Box, or perhaps we could even go so far as to create the chilling thriller: Fish…in Your Garbage Disposal.
Only a daring writer and director could team together to solve this critical problem. Until then, we are only left to wonder with suspense…and wait.
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