by Gabby Pierce I woke up last night to my wife telling me there was an intruder in the house. She told me to grab the baseball bat from under the bed. I rolled over and told her I hadn’t heard anything and it was just the dog. “Honey, please just check.” “Fine.” I sighed, rolled out of bed, and grabbed the bat. I strolled out of the bedroom, half awake, stumbling as if I was drunk. I checked the bathroom, the kitchen, and even dragged myself downstairs to check the bathroom down there, as well as our family room. Nothing. No one. I went and crawled back into…
-
-
Smartphones: Delivering Your Daily Dose of Dopamine in a Convenient, Pocket-Sized Package!
by Addy Wright Have you ever checked your smartphone, found no notifications, and turned it off, just to find yourself checking again thirty seconds later? Rest assured, you’re not alone. The reason you and so many others get that irresistible urge to constantly check your phone is that it and the apps on it are specifically designed to be as addictive as possible. Today, smartphone addiction is so prevalent that the psychological attachment to our phones has its own name: nomophobia. This name derives from the phrase “no mobile phone phobia” (Valdesolo, n.d.). Smartphones themselves are purposefully designed to be addictive, and so is each individual application on them. If…
-
Three Books on my Nightstand
By Sara Hinojosa Editor’s note: A first-year student from Chicago, Sara Hinojosa, ’22, describes the books she couldn’t leave behind. This assignment is from Sara’s FA18 Media Writing class. When I decided on a whim to go to school in Alaska, my plan was to fit my life into a single suitcase. Though I was tempted to haul all my favorite books along, I decided on three that I’ve never finished reading: “Under the Banner of Heaven,” by Jon Krakauer, “A Man Called Ove,” by Fredrik Backman, and the Bible. I started “Under the Banner of Heaven” solely because Krakauer, a journalist, is a writer I most aspire to be like.…
-
Don’t Fear the Reaper
by Johanna Kumpula The first time I heard Don’t Fear the Reaper by Blue Oyster Cult, I was sitting in a dingy hospital waiting room riding the tail end of 1982. Hospitals were my entertainment at the time, a whole bunch of sick folk in one area waiting for death knocking on their door to finally get fed up with waiting and break the door down. It was a playground for someone in my profession. Come on baby, don’t fear the reaper. Shuffling through the fluorescent hospital halls that smelled of blood and cleaning supplies, I glanced into each room, looking for my next unsuspecting victim. Room 313 had a…
-
I Shouldn’t Have Stayed in Bed!
By Orion Waters You are awoken by the sound of the alarm on your phone. Still half asleep, you hit nap on the phone and close your eyes, only to be awoken again from the second alarm you set the day before with a message on it,” Don’t hit the nap button this time!” You wake up after cursing the past you for knowing exactly what you would do after the first alarm, so you get up. Still groggy and annoyed, you now sit up and get yourself get out of bed, only to immediately bump your foot on the clothes bin knocking it over. “Fuuuh… of course.” You…
-
Physician Assisted Suicide
by Johanna Kumpula I largely support the legalization of physician assisted suicide; an ethical issue that has been causing widespread problems across the United States. California, Oregon, Washington, Vermont, and Montana are the few states that have made this practice legal. There are some obvious qualifications needed to participate in assisted suicide; patients have to be diagnosed as terminally ill, they have to be able to take the drug themselves, they must have the mental capacity to understand what they are doing and the consequences that come along with it, they have to make two verbal requests and one written request with two witnesses, and an attending and consulting physician…
-
You Belong to Me, I Believe
by Johanna Kumpula This woman was different. Her eyes were alit with thousands of fires, yet somedays the smoke was all too apparent. The late night whispered words held more meaning to me than any heartfelt poem but her calloused hands wrote symphonies I couldn’t hear. She wove her way through my mind like a serpent, feeding on every doubt until, one by one, they all disappeared. I saw her – the beauty in her soul and the flaws on her sleeves. I was a ghost compared to her, wallowing in the shadow of her brilliance. When I finally decided to acknowledge her constant presence, I was unaware of the…
-
I Miss You
by Johanna Kumpula I grew up missing someone I never knew; a role model turned monster. When I was born, my father started drinking. He would leave in the middle of the night and hole up in a musky bar with cheap beer and stale peanuts. Sometimes he would be gone for weeks, with no explanatory note or phone call to check in. When he finally did return home, he smelled of alcohol and fruity perfume. My mom would be worried of course, all she wanted was a simple explanation on why he didn’t call, but his excuses were pathetic. He would get mad, because she didn’t believe him or…
