What is electricity?
Does it give humans solace in the middle of the night?
Does it allow for the advancement of mankind?
Does it allow lost things to be found?
Does it illuminate homes?
Does it illuminate streets?
Does it illuminate towns?
Cities?
Countries?
Earth?
It does none of these things.
The only things it does is provide hope to a failing team.
This past week, my family and I got a new puppy. Strangely, even though I’ve had dogs as long as I can remember, this is the first puppy I’ve ever had. Also, it’s the first dog that has ever gotten along with other dogs that I’ve ever had.
Right now the little guy’s about 10 weeks old. He hasn’t barked yet, which is kind of weird, but he doesn’t make any other noise either, which is fine with me. Along with being mute so far, he doesn’t actually have the best sight. He’s fallen in our pool three times, and off of the steps countless other times. But still, he gets around and is too damn cute not to play with.
I’m hoping Ca$h will be a hiking and camping dog. He can’t make it around the block yet, but I still have my hopes.
The sneaker release that I am most excited for this year is The 88′ Retro White Cement Jordan 3. By far. This is a proper retro release featuring a “nike air” on the back tab. That single detail is what makes this sneaker special. Up until 2001 all Retro Jordans featured that detail on the back.
After that year the Nike air was replaced by the Jordan jumpman logo. The nike air is original. Iconic. Necessary. It represents everything Michael Jordan did in that sneaker. From the Spike Lee “Mars Blackmon” ads to the dunk competition.
This is the biggest release for 2013.
I will be camping by my computer at 5:30 to get one of these off of Nike.com and will either be extremely happy or sad that day.
And now is the time for disappointment. “Nike Air” comes at a price, $200. a 40 dollar jump from the previous release. The quality is no better, but it is better than the $400 they will go for on ebay the next day.
The struggles of somebody that loves sneakers.
I’m sorry to use the term “LAX Bro,” but I just love using it to piss people off.
It is almost that time of the year to go beat the crap out of people with metal poles and have some good old fashioned fun.
Lacrosse has been defined by Webster Dictionary and all other reputable sources as, ” (n) Lacrosse: The sport real men play during baseball season, (v) To Lacrosse: The act of beating opponents with metal alloy sticks whilst others throw leather balls into leather mitts and slide in dirt because dirt is fun.”
If you would like to check up on that I urge you not to because I would hope you trust me enough to know that’s true.
Lacrosse combines aspects of basketball, soccer, and hockey.
It is the sport of all sports, while it is not my favorite sport to play it comes in 2nd due to a 3 way tie between Football and Ice Hockey.
Lacrosse is raw.
Lacrosse is mean.
Lacrosse is what is up my friend.
Last year was my first season and I was just learning the ropes.
I chose to play defense because I enjoyed the idea of holding a 6 foot long metal stick that I can beat people with.
It is so hard to talk about lacrosse without billions of sexual innuendoes going through your head, but bear with me people.
So as promised, I’m writing a blog about the newest addition to our family, Moose. After our dog Hattie passed away from cancer several years ago, we went in search of a companion for our other dog Luna.
The first dog we came across, who we named Ute, was a bit too feisty for the family lifestyle. So we took him back to the animal shelter, and came home with Moose.
When I first saw Moose, I was grooming my horse in the barn. My dad and brothers walked into the barn aisle with him on a leash, and I am not kidding when I say I thought he was the ugliest dog I had ever seen. He is very clearly a mutt, and as my mother says, “he is everything but the kitchen sink.”
He is black, with brown feet and brown cheeks. His tongue has a small birth mark on it, and his feet are absolutely ginormous, if that’s even a word. He’s gotten a little less odd looking as he’s gotten older, but my first impression was to look at my family and think “what have you done?”
Much to my surprise, Moose was a character. He would walk out our back door and disappear for hours on end. When we first got him, we lived on a ski mountain. He came home one night with a cut on his foot from someone’s ski’s, and another time he came home with a huge gash on his leg from getting hit by a car.
On a hilltop the prickly plant sits lying in dirt
The humans that pass by question its worth.
It starts as a budding spore with no spikes.
Humans that touch it have no reason to take flight .
The years go on, its brethren die.
The prickly plant still survives.
By this time it has matured.
Any creature that touches it must endure.
The pain wrought by its vicious spike.
Every human that touches it now takes flight.
However even this prickly plant still has friends.
After all, its location as an insects home is in high demand.
The spiders crawl inside the prickly plants center.
The spiders permanent home it has just entered.
The prickly plant keeps humans away.
It also makes the spiders day.
Over the summer, my dad had a business trip in Chicago, and I had nowhere to stay. We decided that I would go along with him, and while he was working I would wander around Michigan Avenue by myself. He tried his hardest to make it fun, and he did an excellent job.
I went shopping, which is always productive, often more so than you can afford. I watched movies in the hotel room, and went to Wow Bao for lunch every day (it’s absolutely delicious for those of you who have never been).
At night, my dad and I would go dinner somewhere new, and then to a movie or back to the hotel to relax. One night though, he really wanted to go see a The Second City show. I resisted, but my dad was determined, as he often is. I had never been to a comedy act, and I didn’t really know what to expect. I honestly thought the show would be filled with cheesy humor that wasn’t especially funny.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
The Second City turned out to be one of the world’s leading comedy acts, and experts at improvisation. Their website advertises 50 years of funny, which is an accurate statement. I could hardly stop laughing the entire show, even during the political acts which I knew nothing about. The show was hilarious, and the humor was priceless.
I woke up with the bright sunshine and the hospital smell as usual. I got out of my bed and washed my face quietly, as usual.
I knew it was a new day though I still regarded it as yesterday because everything was the same. The same room – cabined and silent; the same color – chaste white; the same roommate – the man with obnubilation. He always told me that the reason we were sent to this depressive place was that we have so many dreams which could never come true. I knew nothing about his dream.
Every time he just smiled.
As time went by, he was getting older and older. I noticed that the man always sat in the sun, delightedly watching a flower facing to him. Whenever the time was, or how the weather changed, he always acted like the most faithful friend of the flower. Four seasons altered as the flower grew up from a bud to a delicate and charming blossom. The whole life of the old man was stepping to become withered as the falling flower. At last, he passed away peacefully. But after his death, I realized his real dream.
I believe that the sound comes from my heart. Wherever I go, whatever I do, it stays with me, always.
“Breakfast 7 am; Art Class 9 am; Lunch 12 pm; Reading time 3 pm; Dinner 6 p.m.” From the moment I open my sulky eyes in the early morning, I view this schedule board on my bedroom door. It changes every single day. It is really helpful, at least for me. It tells me what to do and where to go.
My mother comes in with a delightful smile as usual. I am really grateful that my mother can still spend her precious time taking care of me even though it is not always easy to look after me. I love her smile just like I enjoy the beautiful sunshine. “Good morning, honey” were the words she wrote on the board along with a big smiley face. I laughed. “It seems you are not going to learn the sign language, are you?” I wrote back to her. “Oh,you are right, I am not going to. Cause I prefer this way to communicate with you. I like the moment when you see my words, I like the way that I can make you surprised, the way you can feel your life is colorful and dulcet.”
I know my mom. She is the only person who understands me, the only person who can put herself into my special life.
Suddenly, a beam of dazzling light hurts my sensitive eyes. I woke up. Yes,I dreamed of my mom again.
A small sapling planted in the ground staring up at the sky and its giant sequoia brethren. Nature develops huge structures through light, carbon dioxide, and water. The forests of the world began as small seeds that became these massive structures.
This is a fitting metaphor for the human experience because everyone around us used to be a microscopic organism in the womb of your mother. We all have a personality and individual experiences, but we all started from the same place.
We built giant cities that rivaled the massive sequoias, built with steel and machinery, but in 200 years which will remain. Will the huge industrial structures of today or the ancient structures that are trees.
OVS Journalism Blog 
