A Little Creative Spark: A Storm at 4000ft

I love storms. I've always been interested in weather. And, for a good portion of my life, thanks to Twister, I wanted to be a storm chaser. I'm not crazy though. I don't look to get struck by lightning whenever there is a storm. For the most part, I try to stay safe. I've never been scared of a storm though... until this summer.

I attribute that fear to a couple things 1) it was dark outside, 2) I was alone, and 3) I was in a tent. In any case, it got me writing a creative piece that has a little bit of me, and a little bit of my fear speaking (maybe I'm just losing my nerve). I named that character Franny... because I couldn't think of anything better. :]

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The thunder shook the earth. The lightning seemed to be striking close. Unnervingly close. It's to be expected, Franny thought. At 4000ft elevation, there wasn't much atmosphere for the lightning to have to travel through, and the thunder could easily be twice as loud here as she ever thought it was at home.

 

Granted. While she was at home, she was usually inside the house or on the porch, rather than in a tent, but this is what she chose for herself.

 

She grew up in the city, and knew it quite well, but something inside her always yearned for the outdoors, and for nature, and to be consumed by it.

 

"Well, you're consumed by it now," she muttered to herself. She didn't very well like storms. Sure, they were exciting... if you liked the whole heart pounding in your chest- scared to death sort of thing.

 

Well not Franny, thank you very much. She just as well would have liked to be home right now. In the warm and dry with a cup of tea, or hot chocolate, or maybe just some dang company to make her feel a little bit more secure. She glanced at her watch, lighting it up with a convenient push of a button.

 

"It's not even 9," she complained to herself. She wasn't tired, nor did she have much to do in the current state of weather.

 

She could write in her journal, or read a book... re-read the same book she had already read 4 times now on this trip.

 

Franny sighed, laying her head down on the pillow. Staring up at her tent ceiling, she tried to locate where each individual rain drop fell. It was distracting at least. Until the next bit of lightning flashed so bright she could only see white, and swore it could've made her blind. Quickly followed by one of the loudest, shaking booms of thunder, she shrieked and pulled her pillow over her head to try to block everything out.

 

It worked when she was at home, and too stressed to function. She figured it could work now, to at least give her a sense of home and comfort.



Alaska

I've been slowly hearing back from the places I applied for internships at, and most recently I've heard back from an internship in Alaska that asked me for an interview. I was reminded of a poem I wrote last year when I was rejected from an internship. Even though I knew I wasn't likely to get it, I was still sad so I wrote this. Here's hoping for good news. (So far so good!)

"Alaska"
The frozen caps call me.
The glaciers melt, waiting.
Ocras breach their impactience
as I sit, with only dreams.

The forests rustle with whispering wind,
The wolves howl, trying to pass the message.
It is lost in translation
as the moon shines and a coyote scurries.

The oceans crash the shore, reaching for me.
The lights point colors, trying to direct me.
But they cannot reach me, because
I wake to a sunrise on the ocean.

Dear Basketball,

I am sorry.

I am sorry that we have fallen apart in the past few years. It wasn't your fault. I take full blame. I went to college, you know? I joined new clubs and got a few jobs. I played a lot of pick up freshman year, you probably thought I would never give you up. I mean, I didn't think I was going to either. Funny how things don't always turn out the way we were expecting.

I'm a junior now. I played some intramurals this year... but it wasn't serious We had maybe 4 games. My heart wasn't there though. I was just going through the motions: dribble, pass, box out, lay up. I am sorry I let myself fall so far away.

I had a reality check this past week. I was in the stands, watching you. And you know what? I was jealous. I had stopped trying to play, and yet I had the audacity to be jealous of those players. Not because of the fan count (though ENC represent!). You remember those high school games? We had maybe 5 parents (15 on a good day) in the stands (M-what? MV) and we still played our hearts out. No it's not the fans, it's you.

It was the competition and the heart, the bruises and the sweat, the strategy and vision. The one time I got poked in the eye but hit the shot and everyone thought my eye was bleeding. The one time I was afraid of playing varsity, so I made a bigger deal about my back pain than was true. We've been through a lot.

I think of the love letter Michael Jordan wrote you. I remember reading it in high school, and thinking, "Yes. Basketball, you truly are fantastic." I thought about playing college ball. I got scared though. I didn't think I was good enough, and was afraid to try... and this is where it has gotten us.

I'm sorry Basketball, and I'm sorry Delilah. We will make amends.

Thank you ENC Basketball for reminding me.

Much Love x14,
Mega Leg

Activism for the Out of Shape

I would never call myself an activist, an advocate maybe... but I don't actively advocate anything. As a vegetarian, I advocate for a more humane, and environmentally friendly meat industry, but I am not actively doing this. I am passively advocating; quietly boycotting the infrastructure.

I am non-confrontational as well. This means that if I disagree with someone, I likely will not argue with them; rather try and find a less confrontational way of saying what I wanted to. Like making a blog post about what someone said to me, sharing it on Facebook, and then blocking them from being able to see the post.

There you go. Passive and non-confrontational; the two things that are completely opposite of an activist.

"Let's clean the river!"

Now here's the problem: essentially, I want to be an activist, but I am afraid of judgement, and anger, and confrontation that inevitably follows it.

My mom always told me: Know what you're advocating, before you advocate. (I am pretty sure she worries that I am about to become a protesting hippie that just protests because it's cool.)

I do agree with her though. I want to know every little thing about what I am supporting, and the group I am with before I join a chant, and crazily wave banners around. I don't want to jump on a bandwagon with no basis or background information.

This is why I usually stick to passive advocating: it's easier, nobody can justifiably hate you for it, and if you change your mind, nobody will really know you had an opinion about that subject in the first place.

Activism requires energy, time, knowledge, courage, organization, and not batting an eye at someone's crude words.

Passivity requires... next to nothing.

Now you see why I am so drawn to my passive advocation. The cat's out of the bag! I am a terrible environmental science major.

This past week however, I got my first taste of activism. I attended a protest. I was asked to represent the YECA (Young Evangelicals for Climate Action) at a protest on Romney's Headquarters in Boston over his environmental "plans." My response was: Absolutely (although my anxiety levels immediately began to sky rocket). Me? An activist? What is this madness!?

The rally delivered a petition with thousands of signatures demanding that Romney take environmental issues more seriously. (For those of you interested- his campaign rejected the petition).

Thumbs up for activism!

Chanting, poster waving, large groups of people... these things makes me nervous. So, going to this rally put my anxiety at an all time high, and yet I am proud to be able to say that for those fleeting moments, at that rally, I was an activist.

Activism is not for everyone, I can attest to that. But maybe it becomes easier with more practice, and I am just out of shape.

I do know that with the right conviction, people can make a change for the better.

Here's hoping.

The Break-Up Counselor.

It is not a fun job but chances are, in your friends group, you have that one friend who you turn to for advice when your relationship has gone sour and you need advice. Maybe, in your friends group, you have a friend that is in a... not-so-good relationship, but cannot see the problems, or needs someone to point them out because they are in denial. Hearing a 3rd party, outside perspective, that only has your well-being in mind, is a useful tool when things get out of hand.

Hate me; I am that friend... which is funny, because I am also probably the one who has the least experience in the whole fantasy Realm of Relationships. That aside, I think any outside person (please note: this does not mean a random person) can give advice as long as they truly care for their friend.

Here are my thoughts on the experience of the Break-Up Counselor:

The Break-Up Counselor is a jerk. There is no win-win. In reality, the friend is probably just looking for confirmation that breaking-up is the right decision, but to the break-up counselor it feels like the whole world has been put on their shoulders. You give your thoughts, and either the friend hates you for suggesting it and the should-be-ex now hates you too, or the friend agrees and breaks up with boy, and you are filled with this doubt on whether or not you should have said anything, because it feels like you convinced them to break-up. You are now on par with the controlling significant other.

Ugh. Break-Up Counseling: Not for the weak of heart or mind.

You have to be logical. This sucks because your friend has invested a decent amount of time, tears and emotion in this relationship.

"But you don't understand, I love him."
Yes, well... you're right. I don't exactly understand how you feel, but I know that he is making you cry yourself to sleep on a regular basis, criticizes everything you do, is controlling and verbally abusive. 
"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger?"
-__-''

Sometimes all you can do is talk to them. Let them talk about everything that they hold inside. As a Break-Up Counselor sometimes, you may want to go and shake sense into your friend, or punch the guy who is causing this conversation in the first place. It is recommended that you do not do either, because that will cause more problems, and make the 3rd party join the 1st party, and nobody likes a party crasher.

The number one quality required to be the break-up counselor is patience. Denial is cyclical and not easy to break. When you think you have made a break in the cycle, everything falls back to where you started. The break-up counselor is a loving friend who really just has your best interest in heart. And let's be honest your friend just wants someone to talk to.

Natural Harmony

The mountain will not do
what the river does.
The river cannot,
what the mountain can.

And while the mountain can
poison the river,
The river is what gives
the mountain life.

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A random poem, written in the spur of the moment thought while walking in the woods.

Curiosity Has Gotten the Better of Me

This is old news to everybody, I'm sure. Curiosity, a NASA Rover, has landed on Mars. Yay! What I really want to focus on though is A Very Potter Musical, and how these two things are related.

Maybe you've heard of the musical, and maybe not. In this play, the audience is informed of a couple things that the Harry Potter series neglect to tell us, like:

Hogwarts has a hidden swimming pool, and
There is another school of wizardry called Pigfarts. (It's on Mars. You need a rocket-ship.)

In any case, it's a great 3 hours of your life that will provide you with amazing quotes to add to your arsenal.

So Curiosity has landed on Mars, and you like a musical. How do they relate? Well! Let me tell you- they are completely related.

Allow me to take you back to Harry Potter's first trip to Diagon Alley, at Olivander's Wand shop. Was it not curious that Harry's wand shared the same core as the one who was bent on killing him. (Well not really, because by the end of the series we all know that a little piece of Voldy-man was latched onto Harry's forehead.)

Any-who, the phrase to describe the acknowledgement of this coincidence was, "Curious." Now correct me if I am wrong, but the base word of Curiosity is in fact- Curious. (I know, that knowledge just completely blew your mind.)

Is it not curious that Curiosity has landed on Mars, the exact planet where Pigfarts is rumored to be located only a short period of time after the ending of the Harry Potter era? I say nay, it is the perfect timing to continue the story.

I, like many others, am now awaiting this rover to discover my acceptance letter from Rumbleroar (the talking Lion headmaster of Pigfarts), so to learn wizardry on Mars, which would be totally awesome.

Also! I would like to resurface the Fred isn't dead tag. At the end of the musical, Dumbledore is asked by Rumbleroar if he was going to tell Harry that he was, in fact, alive. To which Dumbledore said, no, and proceeded to ride Rumbleroar to Pigfarts. Dumbledore was dead! We all saw Snape kill Dumbledore. Which means... if Fred died... he must just have been transported to Pigfarts! (Celebrations!)

Basically, the massive NASA, science, space success story that Curiosity is, has become a new excuse for me to smirk and bring up Pigfarts in normal day conversation.

Thank you NASA. Thank you Starkid.
And goodnight.