Someone summon Marie Kondo for me, please
By: Nadia Tudhope
Like everyone else, I’ve been spending a lot of time cleaning, crossing things off to-do lists that have been around for months, and recklessly engaging in art. Rather than catch up on Shakespeare lectures or start my final papers, I spent a day and a half going through my entire wardrobe. One night, I decided to try embroidering a shirt, despite the fact that I had done absolutely no preparation and did not have the right materials. (It turned out pretty great; thank you for asking!)
But there’s one endeavour on my “Quarantine Projects” list I’ve been putting off: cleaning my desk.
I have a gigantic desk; it’s one of those really hefty ones with a bunch of shelves and drawers — the kind you would imagine in an old-timey professor’s office, only white and home to a bunch of plants and tea. It’s the biggest repository for clutter in my otherwise pretty neat room. There are receipts and unused stickers and important papers piling in corners. It’s the place where things go when I don’t know where to put them. It desperately needs to be reorganized, and that’s at least a full-day undertaking.
I’m just going to go clean my car again instead.
If I were a YouTuber right now
By: Chandy Dancey
Hi, guys. Welcome back to my YouTube channel! Don’t forget to turn on the notification bell and hit that subscribe button. So, today I just wanted to do a little vlog for you guys, keep you updated since I haven’t uploaded in a while. If you’ve been keeping up with me on Instagram, you’ll know that I’ve made the decision to go feral. Like I’m fully committed to being completely feral: running on all fours, hunting for my own food — that kind of thing. It’s been a major life change for me, but my skin, honestly, has never looked so good. I’ve also heard that quadrupedalism is, like, really ergonomic for your spine and stuff. Since I love you guys so much, I’m going to be hosting a meetup in the woods on the next full moon! I’m not going to be picking a specific location, but just go into a forest and you’ll find me. Just, like, approach me slowly with non-threatening body language, and I’ll probably recognize you. Anyways, there are squirrels that need skinning and rainwater to be collected, so that’s all for now. Bye, guys!
The stories I tell myself
By:Nicholas Ashenhurst-Toews
The reason I create art is that I have a daydreaming problem. Ever since I was little, I was never fully attentive to whatever was going on in front of me. More often, I was dazzled by the stories I was coming up with in my head — going on adventures, learning magic, befriending dragons, and fighting off forces that wished to terrorize my inner world.
I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten swept away into my own fantasies. It makes it hard to watch television and movies or read for more than a few minutes and not be distracted by my own ideas. How would I interact with this magic system? How would people like me exist in this world?
I was always fearful of the perceived childishness that radiated from my daydreams. I’m not sure how many people can tell when I float off, simply because I cannot help being captivated by the stories I tell myself.
Maybe that’s why I write. I want to share my stories with others, but, perhaps selfishly, I don’t want to give up my daydreams. Writing means I don’t have to.
A tale of three (or so) kettles
By; Jessica Barclay
After utterly decimating my third kettle in a year through a freak electricity-related incident, my husband told me enough is enough. I’ve put our home at risk far too frequently, and it was time to purchase an electric kettle that wasn’t a $13, plastic, fire-prone disaster. We went to Walmart, and I left with a beautiful, stainless steel electric kettle. Out of the box it was so shiny and new you could see your face along the side.
It ends up this isn’t so great after all, and has caused a serious kerfuffle in my household. My cats have apparently never seen their own reflection and are currently sitting by my new electric kettle screaming at it. It is unclear whether this says more about my housekeeping skills or the intelligence of my cats. Do they think their reflection is another cat, or is their own appearance truly that distressing? Am I really this bad at cleaning my mirrors? We may never find the answers, if only because I’m too scared to make a cup of tea with which I can ponder these questions.
Illustrations: Kelly Ning/The Cascade
Chandy is a biology major/chemistry minor who's been a staff writer, Arts editor, and Managing Editor at The Cascade. She began writing in elementary school when she produced Tamagotchi fanfiction to show her peers at school -- she now lives in fear that this may have been her creative peak.
