Why Cows Jump Over the Moon

As many people know, cows jump over the moon. The are many depictions of this occurrence in paintings, stories and television. Children are even taught this principle from a young age.  The problem that lies in the event that leave people puzzled.

Why do cows jump over the moon?

After years of studying and pouring over all texts available , even dating back to the 1940's, I have come across the answer. An answer so astounding that I could hardly believe it.

Cows jump over the moon because they are running away from werewolves.

Voila! People have failed to realize the moon is always full when the cows go jumping, and that werewolves only come out at that same full moon. This tradition had a harmless beginning that turned dark quickly. It started when country teen wolves began cow tipping. Cow tipping was a fun, easy way to spend the night when there were little amounts of people to terrorize. Parent werewolves would become concerned for their young and would go out hunting for the children. Upon finding the young werewolves simply cow tipping, the parents would become furious in the waste of the night so in the heat of the moment a cow would be eaten. Soon, werewolves developed a taste for beef and would start the night of killing in the fields. Over the years of dying, cow have developed the instinct to jump, avoiding the tipping and the eating.

I have made the best decision of my life. Here's what happened...

I have been stressed as most people have. It is no fun. Also, having insomnia is no fun. On a typical night I get, at most, five hours of sleep and six hours of coming up with worst case scenarios and reliving past mistakes (I go to bed early thinking I can trick myself into falling asleep).

 One night I decided to be a mature adult and instead of lying in bed, wasting away my life, I would read a book. I had a book already picked out, and it was one I got from a "give-and-take" section. I opened the book and began reading. It was horrible. It was as though a sixth grade girl with ADHD and immense school drama had written it. So there I was, book in hand and stressed.

Suddenly, I got a strong urge to rip a page out of the book. Come on, everyone gets that urge of wanting to deface things for no reason. It is the same kind of feeling you get when you just want to randomly punch someone in the face when they are talking to you. Back to me. So I looked at the book and was like "Nahhhhh, I'm not gonna rip this. Someone made this so I should treat it with respect." The urge didn't go away. I ripped out a page. "HHHHHHUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHH"  I gasped. I had done it. What had I done? The book was now imperfect!!!!!!! I was left with two choices: fix the book or destroy it some more.

I ripped out another page.

What was happening?!?!? I couldn't stop myself. Pages went flying in the air and were whisked around because my fan was on high. Page after page I tore out of the book. My bed became a war zone for books everywhere, and it felt good. I began to laugh out loud, ignoring the fact that it was 1:00 a.m. and that everyone else was asleep. Sheets of paper fell like snow around the room. I made a quick paper angel and sat up.

I felt calm.

All my stress had melted away and I actually started to feel sleep closing in. Though I am often unorthodox, releasing my energy in unadulterated destruction was what I needed to break away from the barriers I had set up for myself. I was going to take the lesson I learned for myself and go to sleep, but I knew I would ruin the experience for myself if I left the mess for my tomorrow self. I cleaned up and recycled the book, except for one page.

 On the last page of the book there was a smiley face (it really was a strange book). I taped that smiley face onto my door to warn all other books to beware. Just kidding, it is a reminder. A reminder to savor the moments when there are no rules, just me.

The reason I post this random event from my life is not necessarily because it is the funniest thing, but because we all need to learn to let go. Go to Goodwill, find a book, and rip it apart. Splash paint all over a piece of paper and smudge it around. Scream. Find a release and go for it. In life we need rules and structure, but when you feel like your structure is falling in, get rid of it for a moment. You will learn to appreciate both the civil and uncivil. You will be free

Hi, my name is Alison Forsberg and I have an unpopular opinion.

I guess in order to explain myself I should start with another fact: I have never been a princess. This fact may seem obvious and even somewhat ridiculous, but it is true. Yes, I have been a princess twice for Halloween but that is not I am trying to say so I will clarify: I have never been a real princess.

 I have a very loving father and a very loving mother, but they never treated me like a little dainty girl who deserved everything she wished. When I broke a rule, such as playing loudly at 10 o'clock at night on a weekday, a simple, unmeaning "I'm sorry" would not suffice and I would be thrown over a knee to get my spanking. I learned from a young age that doing a crime meant getting a punishment. I also learned that stamping my foot would not get me what I wanted. My parents were firm in what they would and wouldn't get me and I hated it as a child, but now as an adult I truly appreciate it.

Now I am going to touch on my unpopular opinion: Media does not decide what we should or shouldn't do, and it does not justify our actions.

Recently I have watched a Buzzfeed video entitled "Women React to Realistic Disney Princess Waistlines" (video below). I have seen these pictures before and believed my reactions to them would be expressed similarly, but I was wrong.

In my belief, yes, Disney could have given each princess a bigger waistline without destroying the any of the princess' beauty, but that it was not necessary due to the fact that it was a cartoon and people recognize they cannot look exactly like, or even similar to one.

To my dismay, all the women said that Disney has skewed their image of how a body should look. One woman even said that as a young child she wanted to remove one of her ribs to get the "princess look."

Right here, and right now, I am going to say something. If you or your child ever wants to get a rib removed for the sake of looking smaller please seek help. That is not normal or healthy. There is a woman who did that and she is known as the "Human Barbie." People are not extremely attracted to her because she doesn't look human, she looks like a doll. People often comment on how they are worried for her health and well-being.

I am not going to say that the women in the video are lying about their beliefs, but I am going to say it is a popular trend to bash the media and blame it for having any self-conscious feelings. It is also popular to use the media for unhealthy life choices, if it be exercising and starving or over eating. I know that when I was a child I was heavy, but not once wanted to have a waistline like a Disney princess. All I wanted was to be healthy.

Why did I have this point of view? I'll tell you what I think helped me have a strong foundation: My parents. As I said before, my parents did not treat me like a princess. They were never abusive, but they did not hide facts from me. When my mother and I would be in the check-out line at the grocery store and I saw the magazines, my mother would tell me we do not read those kinds of things, that they were hurtful and not always true. She would point out how the people were dressed and how I was not to dress like that because it would send the wrong impression to the world. At the same time, when I would go home to eat some freshly-bought goldfish, my mother would not be afraid to suggest eating not as many as I would have liked to. 

My mom never stood for me bashing myself. When I would cry to her about how ugly I was, she would almost get mad and tell me not to talk that way. She would end the conversation by telling me all the ways I was pretty (personality and looks) and then remind me that she loved me. Usually these episodes didn't occur after watching television or seeing an ad, but was after I can home from school realizing all my friends were at healthy weights.

Looking back I do feel bad for myself to a small degree. I was a extremely overweight child, and am still a little overweight today, but I didn't realize at the time was it wasn't completely my fault. In recent years I have found out that I have many medical conditions that made losing, or even staying at a healthy weight, was out of my control. I have begun taking the medicine to help my body function properly and have lost 50 pounds within a year and still am losing lots more.

Overall the point I am trying to make is that media does not make who we are or what we are allowed to do. It is up to our parents to teach us what is right and what is wrong, and it is up to ourselves to continue those practices. Media will never get cleaner, so if you base your life on it then you are doing it to yourself. 

Yes, when you dress in extremely short-shorts you are sending off an image.

Yes, it is your body and you can decide what to wear.

Yes, I should treat you kindly and properly despite what you wear.

No, you cannot change the impression you have made to me.

No, you cannot make me believe that somehow the media came to life and put those pants on you.

I know this isn't a normal, fun, witty post because unfortunately I need to earn money for college. Here are two pieces I am trying to sell, and if you would like something similar (Ex. black wolf) or the same I would be happy to make more per order. Contact me at aforsberg95@gmail.com to order. Different pieces are coming soon!


*Note both works are intended to be wall pieces

"Howling Wolf"

"Howling Wolf"

"The Calling"

"The Calling"

"The Calling"

Hey guys! I have been taking a creative writing class and decided to start posting some of my stories. Sorry I took a break from the blog, but I am getting back on it. So here is my latest short story:

Experiment: Veronica

                Ah, my dear Veronica. What a beauty. I remember heading to my class and meeting her at the foot of the stairs. She had just gotten out of work at the library and was running down them. When we collided, my glasses flew off my face and books were scattered everywhere! We looked so foolish! But it was then that I saw her beautiful green eyes and knew I needed to be with her.

                We dated like any young lovers would, timidly. It took three months for us to hold hands! She always said the sweetest things to me. She would help me with my work by encouraging me to do my best. Finally after I had finished school we got married and I was so happy to be able to have her as my wife. She was beautiful Aphrodite with Athena’s mind.

                I began working for the Third Reich. We began to experiment different ways of making our soldiers stronger and faster. I worked tirelessly with Veronica standing right beside me, occasionally giving advice even though she was not a scientist but just a loving wife. When I began to grow frustrated with mistakes, she would calm me down with gentle words. The experiments ultimately failed. The Third Reich decided to call the program off after losing ten men to the procedures. I was a broken man.

                Veronica had a beautiful, prized ring given to her by her grandma. It was a silver band with a large green stone sitting proudly in the center. Seeing me so upset, she sold it and bought some surplus beakers and burners and put them in the basement for me. I was overcome with joy! I began working at once to make anything I could and it made her so very proud. It was difficult to find the resources I needed to work with, so it was she who would go to laboratories and beg other scientists for some. I didn’t want her to do such a thing for me, but she was a strong, loving wife and did it despite my protests. One time the Gestapo caught her and interrogated her for her suspicious behavior, but she informed them that her husband was working in the laboratory, so they let her go, thinking I was still an employee. Oh, what a sneaky woman she was!  With her scavenged supplies I was able to make pills that contained many necessary vitamins, shots that ease pain, and many other things. The Third Reich became interested in me and my work once again. They funded me and gave me the materials necessary, and Veronica no longer had to put herself in such dangerous and embarrassing situations.

                It was horrible the day I had the accident in my lab. My formula exploded due to excessive heat and was splashed all over the floor. It was one of my most promising tests too. I created a solution that would drive my enemies mad, at first slowly but then rapidly, until they destroyed themselves and others. I didn’t want Veronica to help clean, being concerned she would be affected by it. When I was downstairs, she must remain upstairs. I would never let her be put in a dangerous situation again. As I cleaned the terrible, terrible mess, I made sure none of it would be left behind. I put the rags I used in a trash bag and kept it in the basement for when I would be able to dispose of it. That is when Veronica started to get sick.

                I noticed over the next couple of weeks that she had rashes on her forearms. When I would confront her about it, she would tell me that there was no problem. She was always brave like that. I got slightly nervous for her and found that my trash bag full of the formula soaked rags was gone. She tried to tell me she didn’t take it out. I believed her until she began acting differently. When she would wash the dishes she inspected them like she had done in the past but now she seemed to look more closely, almost as if making sure there were no bugs. When I would offer to clean them for her she would tell me that I do not clean them properly because I never double checked for remaining food. She obviously had become paranoid.

I kept to a normal schedule despite her abnormal behavior. Why didn’t I realize the signs and react? I continued my work, but constantly met trials such as not having supplies or not being able to come up with the correct formula. I was so selfish. Though leaders of Deutschland complimented me for being one of their greatest scientists, I knew it was just Veronica having them say that in order spare my feelings. This is when I began my work to make explosive toads, and rabbits that flew. She would tell me I was working too much and was losing my mind! Ha, she was such a jolly joker.

                The rash began to spread to her face, but she denied it, saying she saw nothing. My poor love couldn’t realize she had been affected by the formula. I felt terrible, and I couldn’t let anyone else get sick. Fearing my experimental infirmity could be contagious I locked Veronica in the house and made sure she could not leave. It was then that her illness turned for the worse; she turned on me! She began calling me mad and told me I needed help. I couldn’t let this go on. I began to look for a cure to help my poor Veronica. I worked day and night, constantly hearing the sounds of her banging against the doors and screaming out for help.

                She was not compliant when I began to cure her. She would scream, twist and beg to be set free. I wanted to, but first she had to be healthy again. None of the cures seemed to work! My wife needed me and I couldn’t help her! I knew I needed to go to more dramatic measures. I raised all her dosages. Slowly she began to shout less and become more docile, like her normal self.

                One day, when I came into my laboratory, I found my love, my all, dead. Her body could not handle my help. I had failed my love again.

                She still lives on now. Her beautiful heart sits waiting for me in the house just as if she were still alive. The rest of her body, however, could not stay, as it would have been too difficult and painful for me to handle. When the police found her in the river they concluded she was experimented and tortured to death. I am unfortunately not able to stay with my dear Veronica because I am in a cell for “murdering” my wife and also for being “insane”. If only they knew she was just sick and needed help. One day I will return to rip open the floor boards to hold my wife’s heart. Luckily her beautiful eyes were small enough to fit into my pockets. Every time I look at them, I remember our first meeting.

                                                -Dr. Schultz Kempler

Journal Entry Found on Prisoner 12956 Before Execution

April 19, 1944