The Killers have sung it, now we want to hear it.
Nexopia knows not all the things that I have done...share with us something you can write about without resorting to excessive euphemisms. Leave out what you had for breakfast, what you do every weekend, what your boring bus ride smells like.
Ask yourself: What is one thing that you can open up and write a story about? Something that makes you, you? We know you are evolving and changing every moment, so please give us one of those interesting stepping stones in your life, one that you think is worth sharing.
If your an evil emo robot from Japan -- be honest with us, but please don't send us for psychological counseling! Keep it solid, keep it simple, keep it smart and keep out the private details -- we wouldn't want you to compromise your cover :D
WINNERS
Here are the winners!
Edmonton
Username: s-later
My dad (46) with a 24 year old last year and left my mom for her. He is still living with her right now. I’m living with my mom and 3 other siblings. I really have learned the value of money and what its like to save, to scrimp, and to be downright in debt. The kids have all done our fair share of working (me and my sisters all have 2 jobs as well as going to school full time) so we could keep our house and pay the bills. We have had the gas shut off a couple times, but then I just showered at the gym (because DAMN the water is cold haha). This isn’t supposed to be a sob story where I want people to feel sorry for me. I just wanted to share with people that even though it has been a crappy time, the rest of my family has come closer to together to do what needed to be done, and that I didn’t really know what it was like to "poor" until you really are. I live in Sherwood Park, so the city is predominantly rich and I hadn’t really experienced any type of poverty to a large extent. And it has opened my eyes and I’m glad it has. I really think it will help me in the future. It has also helped me to realize who means a lot to me. My dad calls the house maybe once every 2 months and only pays $800 in child support. He won’t tell us where he lives and really doesn’t care. And I’m also okay with that. Because I can move on and have to pretend. So yah as it turns out this looks like a sob story. But its not I swear. I wrote in what has shaped me the most. And whether or not I win, doesn’t matter. This felt good just to type it out. To win would just be a bonus haha :D
Username: P-ara.lyzEd
I've saved a kid from a burning building. I've helped a blind man see. I've taught an orphan how to read. I've made world peace a real thing. I've done amazing things, in my dreams that is. In real life I've taught a little kid to read, I've put out a fire that I started and I've spent an hour as a blind man. What I've done is to use my imagination to take me where I want to go, and if that's not enough, then I have nothing.
Username: x-mya-x
So it was summer a couple of years ago when me and my friends were having fun on a rope swing. There was once branch on the tree you had to climb up on in order to have a faster swing. Unfortunately, I couldn't climb up the tree. Instead I watched my friends and I grabbed a hold of a branch nearby. I tested it out at first to make sure it would hold me. I quickly learned that I could use this branch to help me climb up the tree. I was almost there and sitting on the branch when it snapped and sent me thumping down to the ground. To make matters worse, the swing was on top of a hill and I was sent rolling down the hill, clutching the tree branch. Near the end of the hill there is a small prickle bush. As you could probably guess, I rolled right into the bush. I walked away from the scene with scratches all over myself and my hair covered in moss. The next summer I came back to find the branch I was trying to get to had been cut off.
Username: OokatieoO
With all the things that I have done one of the most interesting was probably when I was in grade 4 and I shaved off my eyebrows. And it was Christmas Eve and all my family was there for our yearly Christmas party.
So this is how it happened.
I was in our upstairs bathroom looking through our bathroom cupboard and there was my dad’s shiny razor. I grabbed it and didn’t really know how sharp it was and I pulled it over both of my eyebrows only to see that all that was left were a few random hairs. I freaked because at the time I thought I would never get my eyebrows back again. I threw the razor back into the cupboard and ran into my room. I planned to stay there for the rest of my life. But of course my mom came upstairs as soon as she noticed I wasn’t with the rest of the family. She came in my room to see me crying under my bed covers.
As soon as she asked me what was wrong I cried even more. So I pulled the blankets from my head and my moms eyes widened and she started laughing, then she told me that hair grows back but I’ll be lucky if they grow back the same as they were. And they did! But it was a long time before I looked normal again. Ha-ha.
So that’s my story about on of the things I have done!
Username: .adelleda
This is a Christmas story. Most inappropriate for February, but it is an important tidbit that I feel - I hope - helps define who I am as a person.
My tenth Christmas was a special one. I was praying for the new Backstreet Boys CD and was enjoying the extra attention from all the visiting relatives. When I think back, I realize it was probably the best Christmas I have experienced, but for neither of those reasons.
My Grandmother loved Christmas. With what little money she had, she managed to (heavily) decorate her trailer every year. Whether is be a new string of lights from Sears or an old string of popcorn from 15 years ago, her home and tree reflected her love for the holiday. Unfortunately, she could not afford a tree in the Christmas of 1999.
I look back on this Christmas and realize the decision I made was based on a lesson my parents decided to teach me. They told me my Grandmother could not afford a tree, and asked if I they could take 100 dollars out of my Christmas present money to buy and decorate one for her. I, of course, agreed.
The family snuck into her trailer while my Dad took her out for dinner and set up the tree and lights. When she came back to her home, it was the first and last time I saw her cry. It was the first time I realized how simple it was to make someone happy - whether it be a little or a lot.
This is a Christmas story, but it was an experience that has had a large impact on who I have become, and who I am becoming. Out of all the things I've done, this is the one that showed me I have the power to improve the lives of those around me with a simple gesture.
Calgary
Username: .~jen~.
Having experienced first hand from my parents how stressful it can be to raise a bunch of kids, I have no problem giving family friends a break from their own once in a while. Babysitting initially wasn't high on my list of desires for Saturday evening entertainment but I've since learned from a five year old boy named Kenny that it can provide more hilarity than watching intoxicated friends 'groove' on the dance floor. Three weeks ago on Saturday night, Kenny had me all to himself. While we were watching the Smurfs, Kenny asked me a deep question. This was the first time a child had ever asked me to explain how someone becomes what they truly want to be. I assumed this was an innocent question from a young boy wondering if he had what it took to be a fireman or a police officer in our society. I tend to have the ambition to build people up and motivate them towards achieving their dreams so I started a long-winded speech for Kenny. It consisted of many cliché terms to illustrate that he could do anything, and be anything he wanted. Above all I let him know that he should never let anyone stand in his way from becoming what he truly desires. The kid simply stared silently at me for what seemed like an eternity before turning around to continue watching his beloved Smurfs. I went home that night feeling excellent about myself. Why shouldn't I? I figured I had possibly given the kid enough encouragement to overcome anything. The next day his mom called me rather confused. I could hear Kenny crying in the back ground. This did not sound good. She explained to me that she was woken up in the early hours of the morning by the light shining out from underneath Kenny's room. She continued to tell me, to my dismay, that she opened the door to find her five year old son bare butt naked, covered head to toe in blue Crayola marker. Her last phrase is still ringing in my ears, "He says he's decided he's a Smurf, he's not going to let anyone tell him otherwise. Jennifer... apparently he says you told him he could do this?"
Username: marmalo
My story of independence and metal:
Three words: Unholy Alliance Tour. We're talking Slayer, Children of Bodom, Lamb of God, Mastodon and Thine Eyes Bleed. Road trip worthy? Basically the only reason to ever want to go to Edmonton (what a screwed up road system, I swear every turn we made was wrong). Of course my parents would have shot me or hit me over the head with a two by four to stop me (exaggeration but my point is made). So I told them I was meeting my friends early in the morning to go to the Stampede, bullshit, my friends were waiting at Anderson in a car ready to go. Later on in the day, in Edmonton, 2 hours away from one of my most memorable concerts, I called my parents and told them I was sleeping over at a friend’s house. They bought it and I had the most amazing time, I was almost tempted to throw my bra at Alexi Laiho from Children of Bodom, and I will never forget hearing Chemical Warfare by Slayer or the like 5000 people mosh when Lamb of God hit the stage. Not even cirque de soleil, which I've seen in Vegas, can show you that shit. We stayed over at my friend's cousin’s house and the next morning we went to West Ed. mall. Obviously this took a LONG time and we were late getting on the road. My mom called demanding where I was: "It sounds like you’re in a car! Where are you?" so I replied, "The TV is just really loud, you’re so paranoid, we’re watching movies today, I'll be home around five". I pulled it off, she didn't know and my brother threw chairs and actually cried when I showed him my ticket stub! I recently had kidney stones (supposed to be pain worse than child birth) and under my many pain killers I accidentally told her about it. My suggestion to others: if you pull shit off like this, wait till you've moved out or you’re married to tell your parents lol.
Username: chinzillass
They say we all have stepping stones in our lives that come together and make us the person we are. I used to have a lot of stepping stones in my life but they were taking up too much space in my garage so I decided to sell them to some landscaping guy for ten bucks. The guy was a right shifty fellow with dirty fingernails. If you’ve got dirty fingernails, you can’t be trusted. Anyways, after the guy piled up my stones into his station wagon, I asked him to cough up the cash and he hit me over the head with a shovel. I was really p.o.'d at first but in my unconscious state I started thinking about my life and I figured Id share it with ya.
My name's Bob and I'm a forty-three year old, single man living in the manager’s office of Taco Bell. It's cool though cuz José Gonzalez, my landlord and Taco Bell managing landed immigrant, made me a garage. It was for all those stepping stones you see. I don’t have any kids, though I wouldn’t be surprised if my Aunt Fernie's dog had a puppy that looked like me running around. I’m pretty happy with my job, I take care of putting together the cheesy gordita crunches and mexi fries. A bonus about my position is that I get free fountain pop. I know it makes the dishwashers jealous; they have to pay $1.65. Man oh man, I am living large!
I’ve also got some sweet wheels that the ladies are always impressed by. José and I attached a motor to this go cart that I stole from some junior high's science fair so I can get around the town pretty easy. It's sweet cuz in rush-hour traffic I cruise by the waiting cars cuz I can just drive on the sidewalk. I feel like James Bond. I called my wheels the 008 after him.
I date around now and then but usually only with babes I meet on the internet. One time me and this hot chick, sxygal786, decided to meet up at the flea market for some 50 cent hotdogs. It sucked cuz she ended up being some overweight, gender-confused guy with a beard and high heels. Definitely not hot... well maybe for José... but not for me. I figure it’s time that I look up my ex-girlfriend of seven years. She was a gypsy and I traveled in her caravan with her selling incense. Sadly, we broke up after some unsatisfied tarot card reading customer held a knife to my throat and she took my wallet and ran off; so much for love.
So that’s me, Bob; The talented chef of Mexican delicacies, the proud owner of a hand-constructed vehicle, and the forlorn man on a quest for genuine love. Even with my stepping stones in the hands of a dangerous landscaper, I know who I am and I’m proud of it. :)
My name’s Holly. I’m an 18 year old girl dreaming of the life of Bob.
Username: TehFurby
I was born into this mad muddle of a world some years ago on a wintry May day. The fact that my "spring" birthday was in the middle of a blizzard was obviously a sign from the Gods-That-Be that I would be a strange child.
At the tender age of three, I pranced around my house with a pretend microphone and insisted that I was Oprah. Nevermind the fact that I was a blonde Caucasian baby; my mother encouraged me to be whomever and whatever I wanted. Thus, I was Oprah. Not many kids can say they were Oprah... unless you ARE Oprah.
But like any good sell-out professional, I soon became bored with talk-show hosting and switched my talents to acting. I made several movies with my best gal pal. In our first flick we were up-and-coming pop stars who eventually discover they have psychic powers. It didn't do too well at the box office, and eventually her mom threw the video tape out. Our next movie was a horror film. When the body fell out of the closet, we wrapped it in a shag carpet since budgeting was much too low to invest in a real body bag. Despite financial difficulties the movie was a hit, scaring mom, dad, and the kid my friend babysat alike.
Clearly, I was a star by age ten.
Nonetheless my busy career started to take its toll on me. I briefly took a break and became a Goth. I changed my named to Raven McDeatherson and said poo-poo to all my colors. I wrote angst-ridden poetry and shunned the sunlight. But within a few months I got tired of not smiling (my mouth muscles had become very out of shape as a result) and abandoned by drab dress.
Now, several years later, I have come back to acting. This time, instead of making love to the camera I recite Shakespearean quotations on stage. I have played several roles including a French maid, a Barbie doll, a seductive 20s socialite and, currently, the witchy title character from a Greek tragedy.
Perhaps All These Things That I've Done don't seem very interesting but trust me, one day my life will be the subject of an Oscar winning movie starring Oprah Winfrey as Me. And in her teary speech at the award ceremony, she will thank a little Caucasian baby born into the snowy month of May that believed in her.
Username: .dioraddict
On July 7, 2004, my father passed away. He was diagnosed with ALS, a muscular dystrophy disease that slowly paralyzes the body and is incurable. From the point he was diagnosed in March 2002, I dedicated my life to researching the disease and knowing anything and everything possible about it. I researched possible treatments both in North America and Europe. There were many possibilities but my father was rejected from all, except for one at the MAYO clinic in New Hampshire. I also learned that there is about a 7% grant for research from the government that goes towards motor-neuron disease, and knowing that ALS only affects 2 in every 100000, I knew that the funds would be more than limited. ALS either attacks the upper or lower body, shutting it down slowly but surely. My father was one of they very unfortunate that had the upper body. 90% of patients diagnosed with ALS die within 18 months of diagnosis, so I figured out what we could do that would prolong his life as much as possible. In April of 2003, my father had a feeding tube put in his stomach, not because he wasn’t able to eat but because we knew that sooner, rather than later, he wouldn't be able to swallow. In July, sure enough, I was right and that was how he then ate. I'll spare you from other details, as they are too graphic, and no one can understand unless they, themselves, have dealt with the disease. On July 4, 2004, we took my father into the hospital because he had gotten a very bad cold. I knew that as soon as they shut the ambulance door than he wasn't coming home. So on Monday I said my final goodbye to my father, kissed him one last time and told him that I loved him and no one would ever replace him. After his funeral I connected with the ALS foundation, as well as Betty's Run for the Cure, which raises fund's for research so that hopefully one day, someone will survive and have life after ALS. To this day, I’m an avid fundraiser with around $300,000 worth of donations under my belt currently. I believe this changed me as a person, gave me a new-found respect for life and showed me just how precious both life and relationships are. I believe I was forced to grow up at a young age, which I never could have respected back then because I felt like my childhood had been taken away before I was ready to let it go and I can't say that I’m happy that it happened to me, but with every tear and every experience I have grown. I can appreciate the fact that maybe one day I can help to find a cure, or even give hope to other families dealing with this situation. Without this experience, I wouldn't be who I am today and I wouldn't appreciate the smaller thing's in life, which I do now.
