The World Will End When My World Ends

  I have built my life on the belief that I was destined to be a writer. Shakespeare was more a friend to me growing up than any of the people I went to school with. I loved to read , therefore I learned a love of writing. So I studied myself raw and numb in high school in order to get into a good college so I could continue the pursuit of my difficult dream. I was accepted into my good university where I learned to consider myself at the top of the writing food chain. I was an English major. I was on my surely destined path to writing greatness! I graduated with honor after academic honor. Surely my destiny would be guaranteed?
  Yet, after 3 agonizing years of retail and an atrophying spirit, I do not have the experience to land any real writing jobs. Caught in an horrible Catch-22 existence, I consulted a very nice man who ran a small publishing company. He confirmed what I had been thinking for months. In order to get a leg up on my competition, I needed to go back to school and get my graduate degree. So, I researched all the universities in my area that offered the MFA I seek. What do I find out? That my program only accepts about 30 people during each enrollment period. Not only that, but that resumes and transcripts mean very little in their consideration of who they let in.
  So the degree that put my parents in the poorhouse, the degree that I worked hard for, means very little in the bigger picture of my life. I have to rely solely on my talent as a writer. What I am worried about the most is that what if I am not good enough? What if I am not meant to be a writer? Do I lay down my pen and my happiness? Do I have to waste my whole life at a job that makes me bitter and numb? The graduate program I desperately need to be accepted into only accepts about 18% of applicants. That one little number stands as a monumental obstacle between my dream and myself. What an unfair world! The application deadline is the beginning of October, and then I am sure they make their decisions within a month or two. So I can only pray that come the winter, when my destiny is decided and sent to me in a harmless-looking envelope, that the world will really end if the news is bad. I would rather be dead than spend even one more year dead inside.

Things That Grind My Gears...

   You know what really grinds my gears? Emergency vehicles. With their noisy sirens, and their seizure-inducing lights. They think they are so important! Making cars stop to let them through and acting all hurried and smug about it.  Go ahead, blare your sirens at 3 AM! It's not like anyone is trying to sleep! I know how congested the traffic is that early in the morning. Those one or two cars and the hobos scattered around really are quite the daunting obstacles! Oh my gosh! Beware the parked cars and the stray cat! Better put on the sirens just in case they miss the gigantic, noisy, red monstrosity coming towards them! How about you shut the eff up and get on your merry way saving the undeserving drunks who don't deserve your help!
   Maybe you annoying firetrucks and ambulances can do me a favor and plow down the annoying drunk people loitering on the corner underneath my apartment. I know drunk people are incapable of speaking at normal volumes, but do you really have to enlighten the sleeping masses to your epic flirting failures and your mostly retarded intelligence? Maybe instead of getting drunk you should read some books, because if I have to listen to you yell one more drunken pick-up line, I will seriously consider leaning off my balcony in order to pee on your annoying head! Get a life! Those "damn fine ladies" do not want a piece of you no matter how hard you try.Believe it or not, drunken, gussied up high school drop-outs hold little appeal for most women.
   The only thing that is more annoying than sirens and drunks, are runners. With their tight clothing, and their perky ponytails. Whoever thought running would be a fun way to get in shape needs to be partially drawn and quartered and then thrown into a vat of mutated acid piranhas! You don't look cool, you look sweaty and miserable! Plus, the ragged, heaving breathing is disgusting! Like, you are a morbidly obese person who just walked a whole 20 feet to the refrigerator. Stop heaving your sweaty breath in my space bubble! Go learn a fun sport like tennis or swimming! The only people who should be running are people who are trying to catch a bus or actual professional runners. At least the professional runners do it on private tracks where us normal people are not subjected to the sight of their sweaty, wilted forms. Run past me with your fancy mp3 holders and your designer water one more time and I swear I will trip you on purpose! Or maybe I can wait until you have a heart attack, then we could both be put out of our shared misery! You aren't a freaking antelope being chased by a hungry cheetah! That is what really grinds my gears.....Road House.

If Only We All Learned How to Pay It Forward

   To survive in this world, many people embrace a survival of the fittest attitude. People become greedy, vicious and uncaring in order to remain intact. While I understand this, and sometimes embrace this same thought process, it never ceases to sadden me. We learn to walk alone. We learn to close ourselves off from all others in order to protect ourselves. But sometimes we are allowed to make a connection with other people. I was lucky enough to have an experience that proved there is still goodness left in this world.

   Even though I have lived in Seattle for months now, I have yet to buy myself an umbrella. I put it off thinking that the nice weather would continue if I was unprepared for bad weather. Apparently Mother Nature doesn't give a crap about my delusions.As I left work and began my 12 block trek home, the light drizzle became a violent downpour. Within five minutes I looked more like a beached mermaid than a frustrated human. I was so wet that my hair kept dripping into my eyes blurring my sight. I was wet and angry, but still I trudged on! My mantra became "just a few more blocks".

   I was so wet and cold that I couldn't feel my fingers, and more than once I thought about throwing myself into the mammoth puddles to end my misery, not that drowning in a one inch puddle would have been an easy feat. I jealously gazed at passers-by who had the sense to carry umbrellas with them. Unfortunately, I am not prone to stealing what isn't mine. But as I considered a life of thievery, a woman approached me walking the opposite direction. She looked me up and down taking in my sea-nymph state and asked me how far I was going. I automatically replied my new mantra "just a few more blocks." She handed her umbrella to me saying I could have it. Being raised a proper lady, I kindly refused stating I couldn't take her umbrella. She said it was fine because she had another one in her purse which she pulled out so I could see. She handed over her first umbrella with its case exclaiming, " Now you actually might make it home without drowning!" I thanked her for the gift and she kept on walking.

   This amazing woman never even asked me for a dime. She just gifted me her umbrella and continued on. Her kindness hit me hard. By the time I arrived home I was almost tearing up. A complete stranger had turned my whole day around. There was still good in the world. There were still people who cared about others. I swore from that moment on that I would carry an extra umbrella with me in order to pay forward her kindness. Maybe I can also save a fellow human from a terrible day. 

   So to my kind rescuer: Thank you for being the kind person you are. Thank you for saving me from a frustrating day. Thank you for boosting my spirits and making this world a better place. I hope the best for you and I promise I will strive to do the same for others!

I Pray For a Zombie Apocalypse

   Sadly, I can no longer watch the History Channel. It seems like an Apocalypse frenzy every time I turn it on. There is always one documentary after another about the end of the world. Some of them say it will be a natural disaster, some swear it will be a plague, while others seem to think the end of the world will be brought on by a massive climate shift. While the scientists cramp their hands and brains with calculations and the scientific validity of apocalyptic scenarios, I pray that humanity is taken out by zombies. That's right, zombies, because zombies give me a higher chance of survival. Without immense financial or military backing, surviving world-ending natural disasters or climate changes would be extremely difficult. However, any idiot who can aim and shoot a gun can battle zombies and survive for at least a little while. With the proper preparation, every person has a fighting chance at surviving a zombie-type Apocalypse. I pray for a zombie Apocalypse, because I have the perfect plan to survive it.

Step 1: Preparation

Your plan is only as strong as your preparation for it. I plan on surviving the zombies unscathed and relatively comfortably considering the world is over. I plan to start taking various classes to build my fighting capabilities and to get my body in peak condition such as archery, shooting classes, fencing, and some sort of martial art such as Karate or Tae Kwon Do. That way I can properly and effectively defend myself against zombies in any situation, or with almost any weapon including my own hands. Another necessary preparation is having all of the necessary supplies. I will make sure I have a varied supply of guns and ammo, knives, and a well-stocked survival pack. I will make sure my zombie kit is always readily available at every moment of every day, because zombies do not have manners and will not think twice about disrupting dinner or your favorite show.

Step 2: Gather a Crew and Learn Some Skills

A group is only as strong as its weakest link, so make sure your group doesn't have one! I plan on utilizing  thorough investigative interview processes to attain members of my zombie-killing crew. I will make sure my crew has a vast array of skill sets including a doctor, scientist, technology professional, soldier, musician, engineer, professor, and even an inventor. Every person in my crew must take part in all of the above preparations so they are capable of defending themselves and killing scores of zombies. Average people are also able to join my crew if they have or learn a valuable skill such as desalinating ocean water, building shelters, or even advanced sewing. If you can kill zombies and you have skills, you are in!

Step 3: Have a Viable Plan 

Come up with a plan and stick to it. The more you deviate from your plan, the more likely it is to fail. After much thought I came up with an ideal plan for my location. I believe the best chance of survival is on the water. Ships have the benefits of an island with the ability to move. In most zombie movies, the zombies can not swim, thus a ship would be the easiest to protect and defend. This plan will not be difficult, as I live in Seattle, and there are many different types of ships to choose from close at hand. A military ship will be the best vessel to ensure survival for the beginning part of the Apocalypse and, luckily, there is a navy base right across the Sound. A military ship is large, stealthy, and already designed to defend against attacks. It has a basic and bare set-up which will more easily allow my crew to clear it of any zombies that have wandered onto it. We will take the vessel into the ocean while we zombie-proof it and are able to defend it without any problems. 

After the Apocalypse is well under way,and after things have settled a bit, we will return to the city and sweep it for capable survivors and more supplies. All new crew members will undergo rigorous training to ensure that the crew has no weak links. We will make city sweeps up and down the coast once a month until we stop finding survivors and zombie attacks become less frequent, or sparse, as we kill the zombies or they die off. Once the crew becomes large enough, we will begin to consider comfort and re-establishing a proper and functioning society. We will begin this endeavor by taking over a cruise ship since they are designed for comfort and basically off-land living. 

After the Apocalypse seems to be winding down, we will begin to replenish and build a proper society on our ships. Anyone with skills in trade will begin to teach others their skills. Everyone must choose a set of skills to learn in order to keep a functioning society. Any children that are born will begin defensive training at the age of five. It is pertinent that there are no weak links. We do not want another outbreak of zombies just because our children are helpless and totally dependent on the adults. After many years of sea living, we will consider moving back to land. 

People are either survivors or they aren't. So the question is, are you going to be a survivor, or are you going  to be a zombie? 

This Is My Club, No Advertisements Allowed

   I pay a lot of money for television every month in order to enjoy and be entertained by programs I love. However, I do not pay tons of money to watch advertisements. Advertisements have completely taken over television and it really grinds my gears. It enrages me that programs that should be an hour long are really only 40 minutes long with 20 minutes worth of commercial breaks. Even worse, most of the advertisements and commercials are extremely moronic. They are not funny, not entertaining, and definitely do not cause me to race out of my apartment to buy the crap that they are peddling.
   At first, commercials had only invaded television. It was a slight annoyance that I accepted due to the fact that I could avoid them most of the time. But advertisements are an evil breed that have been crouched and waiting in the dark for an opportunity to be unleashed upon the world. At the first sign of a weak defense, they begun sneakily implanting themselves into our movies. The first time I had to watch 10 minutes of commercials before the previews actually started I almost pooped my pants in order to fling it like an enraged monkey at the screen. I felt so violated. The movie theater once was a safe haven for entertainment seekers, but suddenly it became spoiled ground which I began to loathe.
   My peaceful world of entertainment was insidiously being taken over by the unfeeling, imbecilic advertisement monster. But at least I still had the Internet. Yes, advertisements were placed on websites that I frequented, but they were easily ignored. Oh how wrong I was! At first, it started with network sites when you wanted to watch episodes. But then, the bloody commercial monster turned its greedy eyes to YouTube and Hulu. There was no safe nor serene place left to turn to. The poison seeped into our iPads and our Kindles, taking over all of our mobile devices. The foolish advertisement atrocity thought it had won.
   But I am not so easily defeated. I am a malicious little thing when I feel used and abused, or even slightly irritated. My weapon of choice? A massive channel selection and the mute button. Advertisements may have invaded every single entertainment frontier, but they can not force us to watch their vile offal. If I watch television, I dodge the commercials by constantly changing channels until I find one that isn't on a commercial break. If I am on my computer or mobile devices and a forced advertisement is playing before my content, I mute it and open a new tab and browse, or I play solitaire until it is finished. When I go to see a movie, I purposely arrive 15 minutes late in order to miss the advertisements and commercials, but still in time to watch the previews.
   Advertisements and commercials are pernicious and execrable nuisances on society. They are almost impossible to escape in this modern age, but they can be thwarted. Just remember this old adage: Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil.

I Am a Grammarian, and Yes, I Judge You When You Use Improper Grammar

    As annoying as nails on a chalkboard or a crying baby are, nothing makes me more irate than people who use improper grammar. Anyone can learn proper grammar if they try, so even if a person is extremely unintelligent, they can at least sound somewhat intelligent and civilized.

   I understand that not everyone is as gifted in language as I am, nor do people necessarily have the time or money to achieve a degree in English. But seriously, it should be a requirement in high school that all students must take an English grammar class. They could call it something snappy that grabs the students' attention like "Learn Proper Grammar Or You Will Die Jobless Under a Box In an Alley", or maybe "Proper Grammar: All of the Cool Kids Are Doing It". Anything to teach America's youth to sound like anything but cheap, uneducated ruffians.

   I myself am taking a part in the rehabilitation of America's grammatically challenged population. I was bored one night browsing Craigslist for platonic friends, though it seems America needs to amp their vocabulary and learn what it means to be platonic, and I what I saw broke my slightly black heart. There were numerous postings with students begging for someone to help them with their English classes. Feeling compassion that I admittedly feel on a rare occasion, I replied to one of them. The poor fellow indeed needed my assistance. His spelling was actually pretty good, but his grammar was terrible. There were so many split infinitives that I thought I would trip and be impaled on one!

   I just find it so sad that students are unable to find grammatical help when they need it, that a student has to go begging on Craigslist for help that should be easily obtained from his professor. Maybe if more people cared about grammar, there would be more people capable of helping the grammatically-impaired citizens in our country. Maybe I should help fund and produce a commercial on television to raise awareness of my cause. It could be like the commercials about starving African children or abused animals with sad music in the background. Instead of abused animals, my commercial could feature abused verbs and adjectives, and papers covered in red proofreading marks. Oh my gawd! That is sooooooo sad!

   All I know is that I am tired of witnessing such atrocities and abuses toward the English language! I swear it shall be fixed, even if I have to fix it one student at a time.

For My Mentor Emily Dickinson

To Emily~ Even across centuries, I feel as if I know you.

Life is a void-

a booming nothing

that builds over years-

a foreboding crescendo,

and then-

nothing.

A suffocating silence.

Chelsea Voorheis 2011 

Hope is a butterfly-

that draws you in

with carefree flight and color.

The hurried hand can understand-

the wish,

a panicked grasp.

The butterfly cannot be kept-

doomed by cloying freedom.

Pained hands strain to catch-

the butterfly feels the longing brush

and flies among the dirt

and mourns

what only God can touch.

Chelsea Voorheis 2012