'Twas the Night Before Classes & I was Packing

There is something strangely bracing about packing a lunch. No seriously, when I go to bed on the day before classes start and my lunch box is full and backpack has new books the world seems right. It's like running to jump off a cliff, only I know that I'm attached to a hang glider.


This semester packing my lunch is especially exciting for a few reasons:

1. My BFF, Harry, bought me a My Neighbor Totoro Bento box for Christmas

2. I have lots of amazing classes. (and I mean I might be so sick of writing I will curse myself for being an English major)

3. I spent last semester not eating until 3 or 4 in the afternoon and it was very hard not to fall asleep at Job 1

4. Recently engaged and super tight on cash, gathering the tools I need for even just the next day is a tiny way to take control

5. Honestly I have an AMAZING first lunch packed:

- Super yummy Thai leftovers: broccoli, carrots, red peppers, cucumber, peanuts,
noodles, and tofu all mixed up with curry and lime
- Spinach salad & grapes hiding in the leaves


My water bottle is full. My Bento box is full. The coffee maker is set. My backpack is replenished. A semester of exciting classes, great professors, stimulating work, and wedding planning await me.

With the excitement of my new Bento box and the recipes that are hiding online, I'll go to bed with visions of Totoro and Bentos dancing in my head.

Experiment: Microfiction

http://www.wgz.org/chromatic/projects/microfiction/
Has so kindly set up daily Microfiction assignments. The genre is exciting to me, but I am in dire need of practice. With Winter break on hand and a challenge before me, the time has come to try.

Today's Assignment:
"Given the character of a clown, write a story in the contemporary fiction genre, using the subject a fairy tale and the theme man versus nature. If you feel extra creative, write only one sentence at a time.

Your word limit is 160 words."

Warning, I didn't stick to the criteria:
1. I used a parable
2. man vs. nature isn't the complete theme


The Wind & the Sun

The ringleader in his shimmering suit proclaims: “A parable!”

The clown stumbles into the ring whistling. He tries not to look into their faces: it scares the children if he gets too close. Fans blow from all directions. He leans in, his patched shoes flopping as he lifts them. His hat flies off and the audience laughs, their stomachs bulging with fair foods. The fans stop and a spot light focuses on the clown. He glances from side to side and pretends to eat a banana. More lights focus on him and he begins to undress. The crowd cheers at the absurd layers he sheds: a never ending scarf, a tutu, suspenders that won’t unclasp…

When the last crowd leaves the show will pack up for good. Come winter he’ll avoid faces again when he stands on the corner asking them for change.

The Beginning:

Late night, brakes lock, hear the tires squeal
Red light, can't stop so I spin the wheel
My world goes black before I feel an angel lift me up
And I open bloodshot eyes into fluorescent white
They flip the siren, hit the lights, close the doors and I am gone

Now I lay here owing my life to a stranger
And I realize that empty words are not enough
I'm left here with the question of just
What have I to show except the promises I never kept?
I lie here shaking on this bed, under the weight of my regrets

I hope that I will never let you down
I know that this can be more than just flashing lights and sound

Look around and you'll see that at times it feels like no one really cares
It gets me down but I'm still gonna try to do what's right, I know that there's
A difference between sleight of hand, and giving everything you have
There's a line drawn in the sand, I'm working up the will to cross it and


Rhetoric can't raise the dead
I'm sick of always talking when there's no change
Rhetoric can't raise the dead
I'm sick of empty words, let's lead and not follow

Late night, brakes lock, hear the tires squeal
Red light, can't stop so I spin the wheel
My world goes black before I feel an angel steal me from the
Greedy jaws of death and chance, and pull me in with steady hands
They've given me a second chance, the artist in the ambulance


Can we pick you off the ground, more than flashing lights and sound




http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YiavsOkcTw4&feature=related