This one is called Because Everyone Loves Satire and is something she did instead of write a paper...she is also the queen of procrastination...
To Whom This May Concern:
Dear HERSHEY's chocolate people,
So, I'm kind of bitter (and not good bitter like dark chocolate or coffee (I don't even drink coffee but a vast quantity of people do and like it)) that you used creative marketing to deceive me. It also doesn't help that it's finals week and I'm in grad school and have a 25 page paper I'm working on tonight. All I wanted was to try the new dark Reese's. My enthusiasm for seeing the word dark on my favorite chocolate made me completely oblivious to the actual ingredients in this "new" product. I succumbed to the marketing scheme and purchased it. I was not even eating sweets until Christmas. However, this would have been worth it. I guess my loyalty to Hersheys (true American Chocolate) and my intense obsession with Reese's convinced me that they could be inspired to create the best sophisticated chocolate combination: Dark Chocolate and Peanut Butter. Dark chocolate is what every "intellectual" needs to be inspired. And as a grad student, I appreciated this treasure at this extremely demanding time of my life. However, after the first bite I was immensely disappointed - instead of dark chocolate, it was semi-sweet.
Now that my evening is ruined and my hopes and aspirations for accomplishing this paper are crushed as well as my " No - Sweet December", I request that you pay my student loans (I work 30 hours a week, so I can promise it's not a huge demand - I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement). In return though, I offer my services for the creation of a true Reese's Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Cup and request only 10% of the profits acquired for this potentially rewarding idea.
Also, you have Mounds - so why haven't you ever developed a dark chocolate Almond Joy or just put an Almond in the Mound? If it's because you've been lacking inspiration for what to call this divine creation, I will generously also take that responsibility upon myself. One idea thus far: a Mound of Joy. That would be heaven on earth and I'm pretty sure you would convert the entire world to believers and followers of Hershey. (I propose this study for my first research project (I am in grad school after all)). So, the secret is dark - but not semi dark - pure dark heavenly Hershey chocolate, and I offer my services in return for sufficient compensation.
Thank you for your time,
My paper is due Wednesday, I'm sure there is something you can do by then.
Sincerely,
Amy
(and yes, she really sent it)
This is one of my favorite poems she has written:
The Mind Race
(For my friends who know how crazy I am...
...and for those who like to run with me!!!)
s.P.s. The uh is it a stanza.....um...the paragraph in parenthesis I've decided to delete, but I wrote it so long ago I hated to kill it so brutally. I thought a nice sweet peaceful death would be better. The diagnosis is there...it's just saying his goodbyes....words words words.
I’m bored, really bored, what can I do?
I’ll call my friends –friend one and friend two.
…
Well, Even if they answered (my calls were in vain)
could they have taken my boredom away?
So shattered are the plans I never had,
What can I do? I shall run myself mad.
Oh, there’s an idea.
I haven’t been running today.
Not with all the “to do’s” in my way.
It’s late the sun is setting,
my socks don’t match, but I’m only running.
Where are my keys?
The IPod’s not charged.
I call my sister and tell her how far.
I’m off to the park; all lights remain green.
I guess this evening was just meant to be.
Park the car, pull the emergency brake
Oh my, how long do sunsets actually take?
Say a quick prayer;
though faith is unshaken,
fear is always stridently taking;
no doubt I’ve been reading tragedies lately.
Last minute decision:
I must run blind.
My glasses will just play slip and slide.
No worries,
Running fast
I’ll be home before dark.
It’s too bad I can’t read the signs in the park.
There’s no turning back:
My feet are moving
The crickets chirp a call so soothing.
The smell of lilacs and honeysuckle
happily liven and rejuvenate my soul.
STOP. Cough. Almost choke
That bug just ran into my throat.
Memory brings words of wisdom to late
an open mouthed runner warrants a taste.
Now I’ve reached mile marker one
only to lose the race against sun
But my steps keep stepping
My thoughts keep thinking
Over and over as darkness is creeping.
Past ponds over bridges
And just when I think it’s silent
Nature composes its songs for the night.
(The wind sings like the strings
a long sustained whisper
The frogs moan like the basses
With jumping syncopation
A bird sounds the words
So sweet and so gentle
But the crickets,
with no idea what they’re playing
are lost in the music like fluttering flutes.
though somehow,
Nature’s orchestration is perfect.)
The trees have thickened
Only shadows remain
Wet leaves are puddles, spiders, scorpions – my bane
My vision is terrible
I cannot see
consequently, Imagination runs with me
The peace I once felt
has set with the sun
and with each step and lurch forward
I find I’m an irrational coward
pondering rumors of night stalkers, gangs, and meth labs
quickening my pace and stretching my abs.
Onward I trudge into paths of darkness.
Is victory certain in this disastrous quest?
I know I’m moving somewhere
unless, perhaps, I’m on a treadmill
and this ‘quick little four mile jog’
has quickly become a long voyage.
Where is the guy who was walking his lab?
or the girl modeling a fanny pack?
Aren’t there other brave souls who wander the parks
or are they too smart to stay after dark?
Hopeful, unless my eyes deceive me,
or are the trees actually receding.
And is that somewhere in the distance
a light to brighten my existence?
Rejoicing, I’m still alive.
I race to my car so I can drive.
No stretching, no walking, I hurry home
I got bored, so I ran a poem
...and for those who like to run with me!!!)
s.P.s. The uh is it a stanza.....um...the paragraph in parenthesis I've decided to delete, but I wrote it so long ago I hated to kill it so brutally. I thought a nice sweet peaceful death would be better. The diagnosis is there...it's just saying his goodbyes....words words words.
I’m bored, really bored, what can I do?
I’ll call my friends –friend one and friend two.
…
Well, Even if they answered (my calls were in vain)
could they have taken my boredom away?
So shattered are the plans I never had,
What can I do? I shall run myself mad.
Oh, there’s an idea.
I haven’t been running today.
Not with all the “to do’s” in my way.
It’s late the sun is setting,
my socks don’t match, but I’m only running.
Where are my keys?
The IPod’s not charged.
I call my sister and tell her how far.
I’m off to the park; all lights remain green.
I guess this evening was just meant to be.
Park the car, pull the emergency brake
Oh my, how long do sunsets actually take?
Say a quick prayer;
though faith is unshaken,
fear is always stridently taking;
no doubt I’ve been reading tragedies lately.
Last minute decision:
I must run blind.
My glasses will just play slip and slide.
No worries,
Running fast
I’ll be home before dark.
It’s too bad I can’t read the signs in the park.
There’s no turning back:
My feet are moving
The crickets chirp a call so soothing.
The smell of lilacs and honeysuckle
happily liven and rejuvenate my soul.
STOP. Cough. Almost choke
That bug just ran into my throat.
Memory brings words of wisdom to late
an open mouthed runner warrants a taste.
Now I’ve reached mile marker one
only to lose the race against sun
But my steps keep stepping
My thoughts keep thinking
Over and over as darkness is creeping.
Past ponds over bridges
And just when I think it’s silent
Nature composes its songs for the night.
(The wind sings like the strings
a long sustained whisper
The frogs moan like the basses
With jumping syncopation
A bird sounds the words
So sweet and so gentle
But the crickets,
with no idea what they’re playing
are lost in the music like fluttering flutes.
though somehow,
Nature’s orchestration is perfect.)
The trees have thickened
Only shadows remain
Wet leaves are puddles, spiders, scorpions – my bane
My vision is terrible
I cannot see
consequently, Imagination runs with me
The peace I once felt
has set with the sun
and with each step and lurch forward
I find I’m an irrational coward
pondering rumors of night stalkers, gangs, and meth labs
quickening my pace and stretching my abs.
Onward I trudge into paths of darkness.
Is victory certain in this disastrous quest?
I know I’m moving somewhere
unless, perhaps, I’m on a treadmill
and this ‘quick little four mile jog’
has quickly become a long voyage.
Where is the guy who was walking his lab?
or the girl modeling a fanny pack?
Aren’t there other brave souls who wander the parks
or are they too smart to stay after dark?
Hopeful, unless my eyes deceive me,
or are the trees actually receding.
And is that somewhere in the distance
a light to brighten my existence?
Rejoicing, I’m still alive.
I race to my car so I can drive.
No stretching, no walking, I hurry home
I got bored, so I ran a poem
I love her and her writing. She sent the funniest letters when she was on her mission and I personally things she should become a writer. But, she's in Ukraine now studying and in love with her chosen field. I miss her. I'll admit, I'm not the best sister, and I'm awfully critical of her and her choices. Her calling me 50 times a day sometimes drives me nuts too. :) But, I miss it now.
Love you sis! Here is to you not becoming a writer except for when we prank people on my blog. Can't wait!
1 comment:
Her writing is funny. And I AM the sister that calls 50 times a day. I can't imagine that my sisters do not look forward to that... ;)
And Sandy, it kills me that you think your life is boring. My stories sound dramatic because they are to me. They would be little things to anybody else, but since my life is so dull, my system gets shocked by the slightest amount of action. Sigh.
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