Ways to Avoid Writing My Paper- #1 Go Ice Skating

From 100 Ways to Avoid Writing My Term Paper

#1 Go Ice Skating:

I can’t really ice skate. I don’t have skates, or any experience whatsoever in skating. I can’t really do anything related to ice skating either, like roller blading or hockey. I have about the average ability to balance on a flat and level surface, I think, but that’s about as experienced as I get with ice skating. That said, college, as they say, is the time to try things: to take risks and do things you never before thought you could do. I’ve seen people ice skate before, in the Olympics on t.v., or at Rockefeller Plaza in New York City, in the movies, even a hockey game once in fourth or fifth grade. Why couldn’t I do it?

Winter in Upstate New York tends to get very cold for extended periods of time, and with it getting dark early and with temperatures below freezing there’s not much to do outside. If it’s the end of the semester, this is an extremely bad thing, and if proper precautions aren’t taken you can get bored quite easily. Everybody’s ready to go home for winter break, wants to escape final assignments, and feels somewhat trapped with both the anticipation of the end and the bitter cold keeping you in. That said, there’s always the adventurers. I’ve seen people skateboard around campus in the ice and snow (one I remember in particular would frequently do this even in heavy snowfall, all without his shirt on). But I’m nowhere near as bold, and wasn’t anywhere near able to ride a board comfortably enough through the snow. Snowforts and snowball fights, given the right conditions, were an option, but the conditions were extremely lacking and the effort too much except for the most determined architects and generals. With windchill, some nights proved so bad that you had trouble walking from the food vendors back to your dorm 2 minutes away.

As I’m sitting at my desk one day, struggling to write my senior thesis but enjoying the warmth of my dorm, some distant noises catch my attention. I turn toward the window, looking out upon the pond, wondering what’s happening. It can’t be what I think it is, is it? I make my way to the window, looking through to spot idiot number 1 and idiot number 2 doing exactly what I’d imagined even they were dumb enough to not do.

I open up the window and call out. “Oi mate! What are you doing?”

“Going for a little ice-skating mate! Having a blast!”

Now, it’s not exactly fair to reveal who’s idiot number one and who’s idiot number two, but Pat and Matt haven’t exactly proven themselves as Einsteins in the past. Last semester, one of them got caught by the cops for smoking weed (by literally opening the door for the cop at the worst possible moment), and they also once went out during a fire drill without thinking to grab shoes first (in February). So naturally, I’m slightly guarded, though entertained, watching these clowns slide across the ice with about the same elegancy you would expect a giraffe or camel to do the same. I’ve seen other people cross the ice, or at least evidence of it, all across campus. Some have made the shortest crossing possible, merely to say that they did it. Others, carving intricate designs and circles on the center pond. Of course, there’s at least one ice penis.

There’s a certain appeal to the ice: a blank canvas to carve upon, a testament toward bravery and adventure, a proof of having accomplished something both risky and stepping above those who have not taken such risks. It’s an appeal that the campus security is well aware of as well: we’ve gotten numerous emails, with just about every freeze, or every new penis carved into the ice, not to go onto the ice. And in truth, it’s common sense. No one really wants to fall through any thin ice, or to slip and hurt themselves. No one plans any of that. And there’s no reason, logically speaking, why Pat or Matt were planning on falling through the ice either.

I watched them for a while, with a dangerous thought slowly creeping into my head. It was a terrifyingly stupid idea, but at the same time the temptation grew. Here I was, sitting at my desk and wasting the day away, whereas Pat and Matt were enjoying themselves and having the time of their lives. They had no style, but that was fine. They had no cares, they didn’t need any. The pond had been frozen for at least a solid week, temperatures not having risen anywhere near melting point. If it can support their weight, surely it could support one or two more people. Something called out, inviting me to partake. Actually, they invited the whole suite, and it was probably the smartest move those two did that day. Convincing a single person toward a course of action is difficult; convince several, and they all follow each other.

And so, idiot number 1 and idiot number 2 were soon to be joined by idiots number 3 and 4, Noah and I gearing up and heading out onto the pond. Every step of the way from putting on my jacket to standing at the edge of the pond, there’s a small sense of fear. Pretty much everyone I know would tell me this is among the dumbest things you could do. The girls next-door open the window offering words of encouragement.

“Hope you guys fall in.”

As I’ve said before, the pond had been frozen for at least a week, and people had crossed numerous times before. That didn’t mean I wasn’t still nervous, and I had every right to be. This had a lot of potential to be a stupid move. But really, there was no chance of backing out now. I slowly eased my way onto the ice. Getting on, of course, was the hardest part: the leap of faith, hoping that you don’t step on thin ice, or slip and fall as you cross from the shoreline. Once on the ice though, it was easier. I lacked any sort of proper balance, but I wasn’t really expecting any. Moving around was slippery and difficult, but a fun challenge, and one that was a first step in mastering the ice.

Having learned the basics, I slowly began to join Pat, Matt, and Noah in the real fun stuff. We slid in circles (although they were likely very rugged and not circle-like) and danced like buffoons on ice (almost like Disney on Ice, except much less prestigious and without the music). We carved our names into the ice, attempted to make artistic designs, and of course, drew the obligatory penis, serving as the ‘icing on the cake’ of our slip and slide adventure. At one point, I’m pretty sure we even found a small rock and attempted some sort of combination of soccer and hockey.

Everything about it was one hundred percent stupid. Four college kids acting like complete morons on ice that may or may not hold. We bumped into each other, crashed on to the surface, and pushed our luck several times over. But it’s a kind of idiotic fun that only comes from doing really stupid things. Sure, it’s peer pressure, but taking risks and walking out onto thin ice (literally), though stupid in theory, sometimes yields the greatest rewards. And in life, it’s all thin ice. Might as well turn it into a spectacle.