jomcderm

Growing up out in the country I always felt safe. That was until I saw my first scary movie when I was about 5 years old. When I would go to bed at night, from that point on, I would surround my bed with action figures and stuffed animals thinking that no bad person could break into my house and capture me. The soldiers around my bed were my safety net and i was untouchable. The reason i believed this was that every night would go by and i was safe.

Looking back on this now, laughing about it, i see that this was illogical. There is no way that some plastic 6″ tall figurine or the soft cotton animals could possibly save me if someone with a gun or knife came up to my bed and wanted to kidnap me. What a joke!

I believe the author makes a strong point about women being subjected to the supermodel look. I think that without the media, men nor women would even know that they are “supposed” to look a certain way. Many psycological problems would not even exist anymore and people could live a more successful life without having to worry about their looks. But the media does play a big role in this world and it’s not going away any time soon. Hopefully we can find a way to filter out this sex crazed world and worry about the more important aspects of life.

The different examples of m&ms made sense to me. I was able to classify myself in one of those categories. The only thing though, is that not enough m&ms were mentioned in this essay. Peanut Butter is a popular favorite to many and could have maybe been used in this situation. The only thing I didn’t understand is why Simpson characters were used, maybe I missed something.

From the message that I send you right now,

Nothing will come of this any way, any how.

I just have a couple of words for you all,

don’t try to find a thesis or you may fall.

Sit here and listen to me ramble on,

with not much to say, just play along.

Random blogs, with not much to say,

I apoligize now to my own dismay.

Fingers on the keyboard, punching straight through.

If you really read this I feel sorry for you.

One sunny day, in the Spring of 2006, a friend and I decided to venture on up the North Shore to do some hiking at Gooseberry. It had been a cold cloudy week, so we were in dire need of some fresh air.

After a mile of hiking the trail, we got bored and decided to do a little rock climbing next to the river. One of my most thrilling hobbies. We started walking along this tiny rollercoaster of a path, along a cliff wall. Climbing up and down this this treturous wall, we started to notice that our path was starting to disappear. Up ahead of us was an eight-foot gap that was sloped at a 65 degree angle with only loose rocks and pine needles covering it. Below was a 25ft drop into a cold river with mysterious jagged rocks hidden in the current. I was very hesitent at first, but i finally built up the courage and went for it. With a walking stick in hand for leverage, and my body angled just right so I wouldn’t slip down, I started to make my way across. Getting across seemed like it would take a life time at the rate i had to go. I had made it to the halfway point, when I found a long crevice I could press my walking stick into for better leverage. I was sure I would get across now. I stepped forward, pushing my walking stick into the crevice. Then it happened, the rock had broken from the crevice and it was all over for me. Falling to what feels like my death, I yell out, “oooooh shiiiiiiiiiiit!” I then hit the icy cold water, bashed my left knee on a rock, and swam upriver for about 30 yards. From the trauma of the fall, as I was swimming up river, I felt as if I were in a dream and none of this was really happening. Finally when i was able to climb up to a pile of rocks, I came to again and realize that it was for real. Shivering my ass off, unable to move because of my smashed knee, my friend finally shows up to help (even though it had been to late). He at least had the courtesy of giving me his sweatshirt to warm up. We sat on the rocks for about half an hour, laughing and shaking our heads to the stupidity of our unsuccessful stunt. Once the pain of my knee had lessened, we made the never ending 2 mile hobble back to the car.

For all who read this, “It’s good to have a friend.”