I Lied

The worst part of working a swing shift is not the strange people that come in around 11:30 or so. It isn't the groups of drunken barely over teenagers stumbling in to find munchies so they can return to their alcoholic escapades. I can honestly say the it's not random truck drivers who try to slip their phone numbers, hastily written on a napkin, into my hand... Okay I lied.
The answer is all of the above.
And the fact that it's three AM and I'm still wide awake.

Proud

I found this link while stumbling. http://juliannakunstler.com/art1.html
I found a little tutorial on this site, and I have spent the last few hours drawing these silly squiggly lines, and to be frank, my fingers hurt.

I had forgotten about the scratching sound of graphite on a sketch pad. I missed the feeling of filling a blank page with grey color. I think more than anything I miss the feeling of accomplishment when I finish a drawing and step back, proud that I created something beautiful.

Discuss

"Fleshy jello mold."
Discuss among yourselves.


Yeah I know its kinda cheating, but I'm curious what people think of.
So post a comment with the first thing that comes to mind

Screwed

"The interdimensional zombies just broke through the force field. They're-- ARGHH BLARGH!...."
That was the last thing I heard before the connection to the bridge was disconnected.
I looked around, searching for anything that I could use as a weapon without much success.
"I'm screwed."

Ask of You

I'm listening to my husband play his ukulele; a present for his birthday last year. He's strumming a song I asked him to learn, and though he doesn't actually like the tune, he learned it anyway. For me. It's silly but to me, that's love. Doing something you don't want/like to do because the person you loved asked it of you.

Oldies

I keep hearing old songs from forever ago.
I can't seem to think of anything new.
Old lyrics, and ancient tunes rolling around in my brain.
I can't believe they call those songs the "oldies" now...

Learned

Fighting my great master was something I never thought I would have to do. Our swords sang to each other, as we danced a deadly waltz, While we stepped to the beat of an unheard melody time stood still as if waiting to see who would stand victorious. I knew it wouldn't be me. I simply hadn't trained long enough; hard enough to beat him.
Blow after blow screamed pain down my arms and chest as my master struck me repeatedly. One quick hit to my stomach with the flat of his blade, and I was on my back looking up at the point of his sword.
"Now." My master held a hand out to me, and helped me to my feet. "Go clean yourself up, and remember what you learned."

Redux

Blessed is the dawn you were pressed into this earth.
Blithe sunlight shines on your first day of existence.
Joyous wishes beloved Anthony.
Cheerful tidings on the anniversary of your birth.

Yoda

I've used all the words I have.
Said all I can say.
The harder I try to speak;
the more the words stick in my throat.
Trying is not doing;
Yoda was right.

Purple

I felt a heaviness on my chest, and opened my eyes to see a pair of violet eyes staring back at me. I felt my heart skip a beat, and I stared back at the indigo skinned creature. It squatted on my chest, spindly arms resting on its knees.

"What do you want." I whispered. 

It cocked it's head to the left, continuing to study me from inches away.

I repeated my question. 

It remained silent.

"Get off me."

It slowly shook its head at me.

"Why not?"

It cocked its head to the right, and raised an eyebrow at me.

Because I have something to show you.

My eyes widened. "Something to show me? What?"

It carefully lifted one arm, and laid its middle finger in the center of my forehead.

Behold your future. The universe is calling you, and you ignore it. No longer can you deny your destiny. You must embrace your fate with open arms or we will perish.

I sat up gasping. Had that been a dream? A vision? Shaking my head, I got up, and headed to the bathroom to spash some water on my face. I flick on the light, and looked at my face in the mirror. My breath caught in my throat. In my reflection I saw a purple mark on my forehead.

Shining Eyes

The sound of your voice moves me.
My heart beats to the rhythm of yours.
We breathe in sync.

It's all in my mind.
I'm trying too hard to hold you close.
I need my space.
You need yours.

Time is my enemy, but then so are you.
Patience isn't the virtue I thought it would be.

I miss your shining eyes.
I miss mine.

Come at me Bro

I'd been listening to the same song for hours now. I heard it on the radio, and though I really enjoyed it, I've continued to enjoy it repeatedly since then. Somehow the song spoke to me, and though my husband glared at me with eyes that could kill a buffalo at three hundred yards, I stared him down as I click the play button once more. Come at me Bro.

Alphabet Games

Look there's an "A" in the water.
What happened to the rest of the alphabet?
I think they drowned.
Nah. The "B" must have been eaten by the "C".

I think "I" have to "P".
That's further down the alphabet...
It was all that "T".
"Y" "R" "U" laughing?
Because all these "M" "N" M s gave me a sugar high.
"W" "E" E E E E E E!
I can't believe this all started because we saw some sticks poking out of the river......

Hell Yeah

I tried to lift my arm, and pain shot up my back.  I tried to get off the bed with a similar result.
Damn. I think I have a rib out. How the hell did I do this?
I laid back down, sighing at my plight.
Damn it, I've got stuff to do today. I went through the list in my head.
Wash laundry.
Pick up the house.
Dry laundry.
Do the dishes.
Fold laundry.
Oh yeah, and put away laundry.
I tried once more to sit up, and felt like I had a knife shove roughly between my ribs.
Well I guess I'm stuck in bed today... wait a second. I smiled slyly. I have a legitimate physical excuse to stay in bed, and do nothing all day. Hell yeah.

True Inspiration

What should I write about?
Love?
Envy?
Sex?
Fear?
Hatred?
Anger?
It shouldn't be this hard.
All day I think of things to say.
All day I write the perfect words in my head, only to forget them moments later.
I can write a sonnet without really trying, and not remember it by the time I get back to paper.
I've written beautiful ballads that never reached a mouth to sing them.
I've created entire worlds, and been unable to to remember the slightest detail when it mattered.
True inspiration seems to come when I need it least.

No Ground

I take a deep breath and savory the sweet, spicy vapor of my tea. It's been too long since I got to enjoy a fresh cup of the leafy brewed goodness. 

Coffee holds no ground against you. There is no soda that can compare. 

I sit on the couch and take another deep breath. Lifting the cup to my lips, I take that first sip, and smile.

Shake

Time slowed down, I jumped over over the couch, and pulled the dogs apart. They had been tearing at each over a bowl of food. My two year old daughter was only feet away from them. I can't remember the last time my hands shook so badly. It's been a half hour, and my hands shake still.

Falling

I don't know when it happened, or how exactly, but I've fallen in love. I supposed that's what this is. This floating, falling, flying sensation follows me everywhere I go. Thoughts of him sit on my forehead, and poke at me every moment. Yep. Love. Or stalker like obsession. Which ever.

Migraine

I have a migraine.
I don't get them often, rarely even, but when I do it's bad.


Tears fall down my cheeks as I struggle against the agony in my head. I have a ice pack under my neck, a pillow over my eyes, and still the pain remains. I try to remain still; every movement sends needles into my eyes and temples. My husband is sitting on the edge of the bed, absentmindedly rubbing my arm, trying to comfort me while he surfs the web on his tablet.
Another wave of pain hits, and I feel his hand gently tighten on my arm, remining me to try and keep my muscles relaxed.
"Deep breaths babe."
"Are your migraines this bad?"
Yes."
"And you get them all the time..."
"Yep."
"I'm so sorry I'm not more sympathetic when you get them..."
"Its okay, just focus on breathing for now. Kay?"
"I love you."
He turns and lifts up the pillow, giving me a kiss on the forehead. "I love you too babe. Now shush, and breathe."
I close my eyes again, and focus on taking deep breaths; all the while thanking God that I've been blessed with such a wonderful man as my husband.

Drops

It's now my day off.
I will be going to sleep.
Dreaming of rain drops.

Middle

The hardest part of any journey is the middle.
You'd think it would be the beginning. Where do I start?
The end maybe? It's over what do I do now?
No.
The hardest part is the middle, when you've already gotten past the initial takeoff and are now trying to talk yourself out of doing what ever it is you set out to do in the first place.
It's not that important. You didn't really wanna do this anyway. I know you wanna just quit. This is too hard. You'll never make it to the end.
Definitely the middle, but if you can work past all the middle stuff, and keep your eyes lifted up, and looking for the end, then maybe, just maybe you'll finish what you started.

Reps

"Lunge left."
"Lunge right."
"Lunge left."
"Lunge right."
"Alright on to a new exercise. Let's try squats. Ready? Go!"
"Down."
"Up."
"Down."
"Up. Up. You're quite finishing your rep. Try again with this next one."
"Down. Down."
"I am down you stupid fitness game!" And now I'm screaming at a video game...

Death and Dread

As children we never think that our pet will go away sometime. As children pets, like our parents, are immortal. They can do any trick, out run any critter, fetch any ball. Eventually though, they do die, and we have to face the harsh reality that is death.
I feel that it is almost impossible to explain death to a child.

"Where is (_____)?
"They died."
"When are they coming back?"
"They aren't coming back."
"Don't they want to be with me?"
"Yes sweetheart, but they can't."
"But if they want to then why don't they just come back?"
"It doesn't work that way honey."

I can honestlly say I dread having this talk with my daughter.

Noone

I met a man named Noone today. Seriously. His last name was Noone. I smirked when I saw his license, and tried not to make the obvious jokes. While ringing up his items, I ask him how often he'd heard the "Odysseus Joke"
"The Odysseus joke? What's that?" He asked with an amused look on his face.
"You know, when Odysseus fights the Cyclops, he tells him that his name is Noone." Truthfully, in the original story, Odysseus tells the Cyclops that his name is Nobody, but Noone works just as well for comedic purposes.
He laughed heartily. "No, no I don't think I have heard that one before. I'll have to remember it."

DMV

We've all been there. We've all had to experience the horror and frustration that is the DMV. That dreaded edifice of monotony. It seems to suck on our very souls, as we sit, waiting on the creaky, old, orange plastic chairs. Try as it might, the cell phone is only so interesting for so long, and while it's powers of distraction are formidable, it cannot hold back the boredom forever.
At least, that was how I remembered the DMV when I went in today to renew my licence.

I walked in the building, with every bit of paperwork I thought I might need tucked into my purse, and my phone in hand to curb the boredom. No more than five minutes later, I was half way through a level of Where's my Water and my number was called out.
What? This can't be right. I looked at the clock, it had only been a few minutes. I glanced at the number above the young lady looking around for the next person to help, and it was mine!
With the speed of an African cheetah the pretty blonde had all my info in the computer, took a new photo, and gave me my temporary paper copy (until my official license comes in the mail in approximately seven to ten business days), and sent me out the door.
I stood just out the door, green tinted temporary ID in hand, and looked around almost shell shocked.
I'm not sure what happened to the DMV, but to whom ever made the changes, can I please shake your hand?

Silly Boy

A shy little boy, about four years old walked up to my counter at work, holding his fathers hand for dear life.
"Go on." His dad prompted. "Ask her."
I smiled my most non-threatening smile. "What can I do for you honey?"
"Um... Do you.. do you have any owls around here." He said softly.
"Owls?" I grinned at him, and looked up at his dad, unsure how my answer would affect the timid little boy.
"Is he afraid of Owls?" I asked his dad quietly.
He smiled broadly. "No, he likes them."
"Well in that case--" I turned back to the boy "--We have quite a few of them around here, but they're afraid of people, so if you're very quiet, and look very carefully you might be able to see them.
The little boys eye grew wide with excitement and anticipation. "Oh! Thank you!"
"You're very welcome. Goodbye now." I giggled.
"Bye!"
I watching him walk out the door, asking his dad if he would help him look for owls on the way to the car.
Kids are silly, but at least they know what they do, and do NOT like.

My Ass

I went out side with Rex to let him do his business.
"Come one Rex, do your duty."
He just looks at me as if to say. Chill dude, all in good time.
A few minutes of watching my dog  walk in a circle sniffing the ground and I being to get impatient.
"Rex dude come on, just go already."
The tiny chihuahua glares at me.
I sigh.
I look up to see the most perfect vision of hourglass beauty that I have ever seen walking towards me, and suddenly realize that while I would like to talk to her, I'm holding a doggy doo-doo bag.
"Oh god, wait til she walks bye. Please Rex please wait til shes gone past us." I whisper to my dog pleadingly.
She's now two feet in front of me, and I smile my most charming, roguish smile. and honestly who can resist a man who has a little dog.
"You know what they say about men with little dogs. They're more secure."
At least that's what I'm told, by my female friends.
She smiles back and right then I hear Rex grunting.
Oh God no...
I look down and see my little canine grunting, and super flexing his was through the deed.
When I look back up the woman is walking away, laughing.
"Nice work Rex. Man's best friend my ass."

One Word Answers

Shoes.
On.
Off.
No.
Please.
No.
Now.
No.
Bedtime.
No.
Jammies.
No.
Yes.
No.
Yes.
Okay.
Done.
Water?
Yes.
Thanks. 
Welcome.
Jammies?
Yes.
Song?
Yes.
Hug?
Hug.
Kiss?
Kiss.
Night.
Night.

Veganites

The fire crackled with a malevolent snap, and pop, as Tristen stood before his father.
The elder beckoned him with a flick of his wrist.
"Sit my son. It's time you learn of the Canabolds."
He stepped forward, and sat cross-legged near the fire. 
"Canabolds Father? The ghost story I used to tell my younger siblings?"
"Yes boy, but they are not ghosts, but savages, barely men at all."
"They're real?"
"Oh yes. Very much so; dangerous, and deadly."
Tiny hairs on the back on his neck stood up as the boy shivered with a fear he had yet to understand.
"Who are they Father?"
"They were men once, like you and I, except they eat meat." Disgust showed plainly on the older mans face.
"Meat? What's meat?"
"Meat my son is what makes you walk upright. Meat is what allows the fawn to frolic in the meadow. Meat is what give the hare it's ability to run so quickly."
"Well, how does one eat "meat"? Surely the animals can't regrow what the Canabolds take from them."
"In order to eat the meat of an animal you have to first kill it." His father said quietly.
"Kill it?!" Tristen stood up. "Why would anyone do such a thing?! How could they?!"
"Noone truly knows the real reason why my son; I have heard many theories, and hearsay. The most common is that they like the taste."
"I.. can.. take no.. more." Tristens stomach turned; abruptly he moved away from the fire and emptied it's contents.
A few minutes later, he turned back and sat down again, determined to keep his insides where they belonged.
"Father why has no one tried to talk to them; tried to convince them that what they're doing is wrong?"
"Oh my son, many over the years, have gone in search of the Canabolds, and found them not only unresponsive to our attempts to educate them, but aggressive when we would try to convert them to our ways.
"Is nothing we can do to stop them?"
"All we can do is live our lives, and hope that through our example, they might see the error of their way."

Deal

You don't need to go on a diet. You look great!
Like you really need to lose any weight.
Yeah, like you've got sooo much to lose.


Whether or not any of these statement are true is irrelevant. I want to go on a diet. Despite the comments, and veiled criticisms, I've decided to do something positive for myself, and to be perfectly frank, I dislike having someone tell me (in a backhanded way mind you) that they think I'm making the wrong choice in dieting. Well it's my choice. I choose to do it. Society didn't trick me into thinking I'm fat. I'm not. Peers haven't jeered me into looking as myself in a negative way. I don't. I simply feel I need to make some positive changes in my life, starting with my body, and how I treat it. Period. Deal with it.

If You Know What I Mean - Part 2

I had so much fun writing those seemingly innocent phrases for yesterday's post, I thought about it all day, and thought of more!

"If you know what I mean..." - Part Deux.

What can I do for you?
How are you feeling?
I'm almost finished.
That was quite a workout.
Hand me that lotion.
I need some help.
Let's play Twister.
Rematch!
Let's reconnect.
Hole in one!

I'd like to say that I won't do any more of these, but honestly, it was just so much damned fun, I can't promise that. If I made you laugh then my mission is accomplished.
Hopefully tomorrow I'll be back on the (actual) writing track.

If You Know What I Mean

The idea behind today's blog is to take a seemingly innocent phrase, and add. "If you know what I mean." on the end of it, making it more suggestive.

I'm busy.
He sure nailed that one.
I love tacos.
I had a great time.
I love sausage.
I'll work hard for you.
When can you start?
It sure is hot in here.
I need some alone time.

Iron

I can do this, it's just an iron. Just plug in the iron, set the shirt on the board and run the iron over the shirt. Simple.
Jeremy looked at the iron sitting in its cupboard with trepidation. Hand trembling he removed it, and gingerly set it on the ironing board.
Okay, plugged in and heating up. Time to lay out the shirt. 
I think the iron should be hot enough now. How do I know if it's ready? He touched the tip of his finger to the plate of the iron. OUCH! He sucked on his finger. Hot enough I guess.
Picking up the iron he held it above the shirt hesitating. Maybe I could get away with wearing it wrinkly? No. I can do this.
Steam rose up, gently caressing his face as he gently ran the iron over breast of the shirt. Hey look at that! 
Five minutes later, and a few moderately frantic calls to his mother Jeremy has a freshly pressed shirt. One look in the mirror, and he ran out the door for his interview, confidant in the knowledge that if he could iron a shirt; an activity the he previously thought he would never be able to do, that he could in fact nail the interview.

Mud Boots

I looked outside at the rain streaming down the window, and sighed. When would spring be here? I was anxious to feel the fresh grass between my toes, and watch my little girl prance about in the airy freshness that is  Spring. I felt as though I had waited a life time for a season that had only happened a year ago. It seemed silly, to miss a season, but there it was never the less.
I looked out the window, and prayed. Please God, I would like some sunshine okay? Preferably on my day off. Thanks.
It's been a week now, and it's still raining. Oh well. Mud boots!

Fleeting Moments

More Pills. Pills for the problems the first pills caused. You'd think that doctors would work on figuring out whats wrong with me, instead of throwing medication down my throat. Well that didn't work... let's try... THIS! The reality of it all is that there really nothing wrong with me, but apparently talking to someone that no one else can see make people nervous, and by nervous I mean afraid. Terrified of something they can't understand. I've never hurt anyone, I've never tried to hurt anyone, but being able to hold a conversation with an imaginary cowboy in his twenties makes the general populace think I'm dangerous. *sigh*
Ainde dled eefi dk dkelsdi kend laeffi. Iekfa sadl ke nie l.
I turned to look at my cow wrangling friend. What? No, I'm not angry at you for being here. I just... I just wish people could understand, or at least that they would leave me alone. 
Er goujd eim sjwy foneujem... J winjf ewmj jif he fww cifj rjngwdf.
I smiled. You're such a flirt... thank you, but no. I think I'll stay here. 
Ikwdn...?
I can't...
Ikwdn...?
Maybe... maybe for a little while. I smiled a him again, and closed my eyes, as I felt him walk up behind me, and his arms wrap around my chest.
Wtr jim wfgnj?
Yes. I'm ready.
He kissed me once on the back on the head, and together we fell backwards into the darkness, into oblivion. Not forever mind you, just for a little while, just to escape the world and be happy, if only for a few fleeting moments.

Snow Again

I looked outside, and sighed. Snow again? During the winter, after the long hot summer. I love seeing that first sparkling wonder that is snow. However, by the time spring rolls around I expect to see flowers pulling them selves out of the dirt, and hear the sounds or birds chirping their happy little songs, not snow.

Unforgivable

"And you hide my favorite shirt too!"
"I did not! I gave back that ugly thing weeks ago!"
"Forget it, It's not worth staying here any longer looking for it."
Andy threw his hands and gathered up the last of his things. He'd been stomping around the apartment for the last few hours collecting his belongings, and taking turns starting fights with me.
He paused in the doorway, his box tucked under one arm. "Why did it have to be my best friend? You knew it's the one thing that I just couldn't forgive... "
"Andrew I---"
"You know what, never mind. I don't want to know." Without another word he walked out of my life.

Eighteen months later.

"Ryan and I dated for a few weeks, but it never really went anywhere. I dated one other guy, but nothing ever seemed right. I couldn't get over you." I smiled at Andy over my coffee cup.
"And now? Are you over me now?" He smiled teasingly.
I set my coffee cup down. "Honestly?"
He set down his as well. "Of course."
"No. Not completely. I never will be, but after you left, and after I left Ryan, I moved on. I had to in order to survive."
"I see---"
"But. There will always be a part of me that loves you. Always." I leaned over, and kissed him on the forehead. I jumped off the counter, padding over the carpet in my bare feet.
"You're never going to give me that shirt back are you?"
I looked down at the oversize aging t-shirt, smoothing the fabric over my otherwise naked waist.
"Why would I do that?" I grinned, and ran back towards the bedroom.
"Now that---" He said as he jumped off the counter. "--- is unforgivable."

Lazy Blogger

I like this haiku.
I'm feeling lazy today.
No inspiration.

Foxy

"What are you doing?! You can't mix those two together! Do you have any idea what would happen if you got a DROP of the essence you just collected into that vial of mork's blood?!"
"I'm sorry master I didn't think---"
"That's right you didn't think. What will I have to do to teach you how important it is---" I sighed, seeing the submissive eyes in my apprentices face.
"Give me that potion, and go do something useful elsewhere. Perhaps the cook can use your assistance as I cannot."
What am I going to do with him?
I watched walked away, his metaphorical tail tucked between his legs.
Now there's a good idea.
I flicked my fingers toward his retreating form, and smiled as a beautiful foxes tail popped out of the back of his breeches.

Sit

Come, sit with me. Share in the warmth of my fire. Let me tell you a story while you warm your hands, and rest you feet. Journey with me to far off places, both Terran, and alien. Where knights search for damsels who are often in distress, and dragons really do believe that humans taste better with ketchup.

Clean

I'm realizing that I'm not really sure what the word relax means. I guess I think it means to do nothing. But doing nothing isn't relaxing for me. Knowing that I've accomplished something; cleaned the house, finished all the laundry, etc and that at the end of the day I can sit on my couch, and look around and know that there is nothing to do, is relaxing. Okay so I maybe I just can't relax until the house is clean. Well shit.

Racing

My heart races.
My head spins.
My stomach turns.
I can't think straight.
This was a bad idea.
I knew I shouldn't have had that last energy drink...

Warm Body

The fan is on high-super-ultra fast-go mode, but I'm ignoring it. The heater is on, doing it's best to heat the 1000 square foot studio, but I'm ignoring it. I've got such a feeling of contentment that the only thing on my mind is the warm body I'm laying my head on, and the blanket covering us both. There should be more days like this.

Payback

Tired. Fighting sleep. Sleep? What's that? I can sleep when I'm dead. I've got things to do, work that need doing. Sleep, sleep. NO! I needs to get up and finish.. what was I getting up for...? OH! Right, I needed to finish, but maybe if I do this first... wait what was I doing again....? I give up. Okay body, you win. The bed looks so inviting, feels so soft, and warm.
I tried to tell you that you needed to sleep more, now I will enact my revenge!
I'm wide awake now. Thinking about the day and everything that happened. Fuck. I hate you brain.
Payback is a bitch. 

Home Wrecker

"Wow look at these bananas! They're huge!"
"Which ones?" My coworker asked.
"These ones!" I held up one of the seven inch monstrosities.
She grinned at me. "Home wreckers."

Wet Peanut

I can picture it in my mind, the store I work at. The fresh wet smell still lingers though it has been over a week since they repainted the walls. There was an attempt at offsetting the bright red, by painting the opposite walls slate grey. Unfortunately the end result was more smoky bar, than welcoming convenience store. 
From behind the register I can see the coolers. Milk water, energy drinks, pop, and beer, all tucked in to their fridges at a nice crisp thirty two degrees. Assorted snacks, and household sundries are scattered through out, with an full wall devoted entirely to a variety of truck driver needs.
Over all of that hovers the smell of fryer food, a sort of wet peanut smell, which disturbingly enough tends to follow me home.

If-Than-Duh!

If --- than --- Duh!
http://www.cmmayo.com/d5mwearchives.march.html

If money grew on trees it wouldn't be so hard to come by.
If TV weren't so damned interesting, we would all be more productive.
If you could eat just one Pringles they would only sell one at a time.
If the bed stayed made, than no one ever got in it.

February 29th

http://www.cmmayo.com/d5mwearchives.february.html


Use this as your opening line:
I was born on February 29th. 


Unfortunately I only get to celebrate my birthday on my birthday, every four years. Since the 29th is the extra day they add on to the end of Februray during a leap year, and since otherwise there are only 28 days in that month I have to choose, either February 28th or March 1st for my birthday each year. While you may say that this would be fun; Hey I get to choose what day my birthday is... Try handing someone a drivers license with that date on it, and see how many people tell you it's fake. *sigh*

(As a side note. This is fictional. My birthday is not February 29th. Just for those out there who would ask...)

Haiku 2

Snow in spring. Why now?
You make it too cold. Be gone.
Didn't you hear me?

Cider

Writing exercise from http://www.cmmayo.com/d5mwearchives.february.html


The ancient door creaked open and from the darkness she caught of a whiff of something like old apples. She pulled the string to the light bulb; the stairwell remained dark. "Bulb's dead," he said. 
Write on!


"Well it wouldn't be if you had bothered to change it last month like I ask you to. Now we're in the middle of a snow storm, and I can't even get into the cellar to get my cider!"
"I haven't fixed it because I can't find the ladder, Janice."
"You would know where the ladder is if you put things back after you use them." Janice retorted.
Howard sighed, and stepped into the darkness. He knew where everything was in his house. He knew every creak, and squeak in the stairwell. He even knew exactly where Janice kept her cider, though he'd never tell her. He grabbed a bottle out of the cobwebs, and headed back for the stairwell. 
"Here you are sweetheart, right where you told me it would be."
"Thank you dear." Janice smiled at her husband sweetly.

Panic

The feeling low in my stomach. The twisting, churning sickness that tells me I'm having a panic attack. I recognize it now. The inability to focus. I'm stuck. I can't think of anything else. Trying to take my mind of what's causing the attack. Think of something, anything else. What am I gonna do? What if...? Think of something else. Deep breaths. I talk to myself out loud.
"Is this important?" "No."
"Will it harm you?" "No."
"Will it harm your family?" "No."
"In the end this is not worth all of this is it?" "No."
"Good. Now take a deep breath, and move on."
IN
OUT
*sigh*

Block

I opened the fortune cookie and unfurled the paper within. Elegant surroundings will soon be yours. Not what I expected, but classic vague fortune cookie fortune none the less.

To tell you the truth. I tried to think of something to write here, and BAM! Writers block. I could not think of a @#$%ED thing to write.


I got today's blurb from here. http://www.cmmayo.com/d5mwearchives.february.html

Racist

In no more 10 words for each, sketch the characters named Jamilla, Joyce and Larry. Once you've done that, answer these question quickly (without thinking): where are they? And what do they want from one another?


Here goes nothin...


Jamilla: Short Arabic woman. Speaks fluent American. Distrustful of strangers.
Joyce: Religious fanatic. Fast talker. Faster at putting foot in mouth.
Larry: Married to Joyce. Quiet. Soft spoken. Hard working. Stubborn.

Joyce, and Larry are sitting at a table in the mall food court, and Joyce is talking to Larry about "those terrorist folks" and suddenly she sees Jamilla. She whispers that they should move. Jamilla hears the conversation, and tries to ignore Joyce. She looks down at her table, and waits until they finally leave.

Le Sigh

Ah. the sweet and spicy aroma of Chai Tea, blended with the crunchy, peanut buttery goodness of a girl scout Do-Si-Do,

I sigh.

I'm calm, calmer than I have been in a long time. 

Calmer then I should be considering all that's going on in my life. 

Triumph, and victory are words that I never really thought I would be familiar with, and yet there they are.

Thomas

You're a year older on this day.
Try as I might I don't know what to say.
I think I'll express it in verse
It's not so bad, it could be worse.
Think of family, think of friends
The ones who'll be there at the end.
I'm sorry if this was too wordy.
Happy Birthday Thomas. You're turning Forty!

Mystery

I don't think I would be good at writing mystery. I want to give to much away at the beginning, thinking that if I font explain the whole thing right off the bat, the the reader won't understand whats going on, and wouldn't be sucked into the story. That, and I seem to have issues with writing a beginning middle and end, that all correspond with each other. Grrr. I guess that's why I'm doing this. What does the future hold for my writing? We shall soon see... we shall soon see.

Guard

My husband has been out of town for a few days. While he was gone, the Jack Russell terrier (Blade) that we care for has was my constant companion when I was at home. He followed me around the house at my heals. He slept on the bed with me for four days, and protected me. He guarded me as though Tony had giving him a sacred mission to protect my life and limb while he was away. Unfortunately I think he got too used to having bed privileges.
Tony arrived home last night, a little after one am. When he crawled into bed, and attempted to kick Blade off the bed, the disgruntled canine looked up at him with an expression that said; "You want me to do what? You're banishing me to the sleeping bag in front of the heater again? After all I did for you while you were gone. After I watched over your female person?! He snorted, glared at Tony, and jumped off the bed. Trotting over to my side, Blade looked up at me with longing. Will YOU let me back up in the bed?
 "Go to bed Blade." I said. " I scratched his head. "Go on." He snorted again, and tried, futility to use the puppy dogs eyes on me once more before finally giving up, and laying down.

Fairy Tales

I love fairy tales. I really do. The epic stories. The battle between good and evil. The prince rescuing the princess, or in some cases, the other way around. I love the idea that the world can be that special, that miraculous. It rarely is, but it's nice to think that some time, somewhere, someone is living out a real life fairy tale.

Fan

Riding in the car with my daughter, she asked me to sing for her. First it was Twinkle, Twinkle Little Little Star, then it was The Itsey Bitsey Spider. Then it was a song I couldn't figure out... honestly, I had no idea what she was asking me for so I started making them up. After three or four made up songs, I decided to sing Once Upon a Dream from Sleeping Beauty. The silly girl asked me to sing it over, and over. Finally my throat began to hurt, and I stopped.

"Good singing Mommy." Was the very next sound I heard. My heart near overflowed with joy, and love.

My eyes teared up. "Thank you baby. You wanna hear another one?"

"Yes!"

Despite my drying throat, I keep on singing for her, and before long she was lulled to sleep by the sound of my voice.

I hope she stays my number one fan.

Sometimes

Sometimes... sometimes you don't know how badly you wanted something until you realize that you can't have it. It's that sudden realization that no matter how you logic yourself into it, in the end... it's not the right choice. Sometimes... sometimes it sucks to be an adult.

Movies

I found some old movies that I watched when I was a kid. Joseph, and King of Egypt. I had forgotten how much these movies affected me. Though I have to admit, I find it interesting what I notice about them now, as an adult. I cry at different things, notice things I never understood as a child. 

I wonder what this will be like for my daughter? What will she see in The Princess and the Frog, that she isn't seeing now? Will she love it as much as she does now?

I guess we shall see.

Alone

When my husband told me he was going to Arizona for the week to help family, I thought Cool, I'll have the house all to myself. But now that my daughter has gone to her Gigi's house to stay for the night; while I work, all I can think is The house seems so empty. I guess when you're used to having anywhere from three to five people in a home at any given time, being alone is not all that great. As I look around what I'm really thinking is I have the next two days off. I can clean the house top to bottom, and FINALLY get the laundry done! Woohoo! Wow...

Ideas

I need an idea for today's blurb baby. Help me out. Got any ideas?
"Technology."
I just stared at him.
He held up his pillow. "Pillow."
I continued to stare at him with disbelief, and he continued to pick things up off the bed and suggest them as a writing idea.
"Bottle."
"Shirt."
"Bella's car chair."
"Seriously? That's the best you can come up with?"
"Well, do you have an idea yet?"
I paused. "Yeah actually I do."
"Heh! Awesome! I helped."

The Letter

I don't know if you'll see this. But I love you. I don't know you, but I love you. I walk by this bench everyday, and you sit here eating your lunch, not knowing that I remember you. Not knowing that I can picture your face when I've gone, and left you to your lunch on the bench. I don't know your name, or how old you are. I don't know if you have lots of family, or have none. I don't know what you like to do on your off time, or what your favorite food is, but I love you anyway. One of these days I might work up the courage to let you know, but for now, this letter will have to suffice. I love you. I'll see you tomorrow.

I set the paper down on the bench, and walk away, grinning. I'm going to make someone's day tomorrow... or make them thing they have a stalker. Either way, it's a good prank.

Pulled

The words tonight feel as though they are being pulled from me. As  though  every  letter  is  a   struggle.  The more  I  try  to   write  the  harder   and  harder  it   becomes   to   form   a   coherent  thought.    My   need   to get   something  down,    and   out  of    my   head,    and   onto    the   computer,    is    overriding    my    need   to    sleep.  What's      that     you     say?     Sleep?    Sleep    is      a      wonderful     thing     I     used     to   do.....

Book

The book. A friend. A journey. An adventure waiting for you to being it. How many times have I lost myself in it's worn, cinnamon scented pages. Nothing will match the feeling it gives me. No technological marvel will ever match the wonderful feeling of holding a book in my hands, of smelling the ink, and paper. I will never forget you. Never replace you. You will forever hold a place in my heart dear friend.

Lizard Cowboy

"I've never..."

"Shush." he held a finger to my lips. "I'll take care of everything."

He ran his knuckles down my cheek, and I closed my eyes. Slowly he moved his hands down, and began to lift up my shirt.

Suddenly the door burst open and we were interrupted by a lizard man in a cowboy hat.

"Don't do it! If you have sex with him now the entire universe will be thrown out of balance!"

My jaw hit the floor. "What the hell is going on?!"

I sat up gasping. Wide awake now, I looked around at my room and my familiar things. It was just a dream. That's it. No more jelly oranges before bed.

Bartender

CRASH!
What now?
I took a deep breath and looked up. A fist sized fleshy rock hit me square in the nose. I doubled over, holding my head in my hands.
"What the fuck!" Screaming I ran around the counter into what I realized was a full on bar fight.
I grabbed the shirt of the nearest brawler to me, and yanked back as hard as I could. He gagged on his shirt collar, and fell backwards into my knee. Leaving him rolling on the floor I moved further into the fray.
I felt a hand grip my shoulder. Ducking down I turned, swept his feet out from under him, and moved on. I'd had enough.  I jumped up on the bar and grabbed a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue.
I raised the bottle in the air. "Everyone sit down or Johnnie gets it!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. The room fell silent.
"That's better."
I climbed off the counter, and poured myself a shot. Every eye in the room followed my hand as I lifted the glass to my lips, and let the amber liquid it slide down my throat.
There is at least one upside to being a bartender.

Anything

I work hard. I don't sleep much. I'm tired. I know one of these days it's going to catch up with me, but I'll worry about that later.
I put my energy drink down, and focused on my laptop monitor. The words on the screen blurred together, making what should have been an expertly choreographed paragraph look like a kindergartners book report.
Bah! it's not that hard! Only a paragraph or two, and I can go to bed.
Like a flash of light inspiration hit, and the words flowed from my fingers like water.
Finished!
I spelled checked my work, clicked publish, and closed my laptop, happy in the knowledge that if I set my mind to it, I could in fact accomplish anything.

Ball

I pick up the ball. I bring it back. There it goes! Woohoo! I got it!
I pick up the ball. I bring it back. There it goes! Woohoo! I got it! 
I pick up the ball. I bring it back. There it goes! Where'd it go? Where'd it go? Woohoo I found it!
I pick up the ball. I bring it back. There it goes! Where'd it go? Where'd it go? I can't find it, so I run back, smiling.
OH! There it goes!

Nigh Nigh

I lay my daughter down, and cover us both up with the blanket. My feet stick off the end of the bed a foot or so, and Bella laughs.
"Mommy funny."
"Yes, yes Mommy's feet are funny. Lay down I'll sing the Nigh nigh song."
I begin to sing and she waves her hands gently in the air to the melody. The first verse ends with a bah bu bum bah bum, while I tap her tummy in time. With the toddler giggling madly at me, I start it over again, repeat it once, and half again.
"You know I love you, and I really must say, goodnight sweetheart goodnight..."
She smiles, filling her entire face with joy. I kiss her on the forehead, walk out, and shut the door behind me.

Photoshop

I'm attempting to work on a project on Photoshop. This is a mistake. I know it. My husband knows it. The world at large should know it. Don't you try telling me that you love the program, and it's simple to use. I know people. People who used up time in their life going to classes to learn how to use this infernal program, and still can barely use it. So yeah... there's that...

Birthday

Cake. Ice cream. Party hats. Small children running, screaming. This is what you would expect a birthday party for two year old to be like. Not my friends. Zombie themed cake, food, decorations, and a conversation that hinged around a movie called "A Serbian Film". Dear God. I have no words. Also, Rift, Wow, and Ever Quest. All I seemed to learn from this, is that I have some @#$%ing awesome friends, who I hope will join me in group therapy when our children are all older.

One Question

I sat on the Max, heading into downtown Portland  It was empty, so Iput my head phones on and set my Ipod to shuffle. Joan Osborne? I didn't even know I had this on here...

If God had a name what would it be?
And would you call it to his face?
If you were faced with him 
In all his glory
What would you ask if you had just one question?

Heh. What would I ask God if I got a chance to talk to him?
I looked up, there was a man sitting in the bench across from me gently bobbing his head to the music in his ears. The bus hadn't stopped, and I knew he hadn't been there a second ago. How the hell had he gotten there?
I stared at him.
He had his shoulder length hair pulled back into a loose pony tail. His not so neatly trimmed beard was the same tawny blonde as his hair.
I stared at him.
He wasn't homeless, his clothes were too clean. Comfortable looking though, not sloppy mind you, just, comfortable.
Tentatively I got out of my seat, leaving my headphones next to my things, and sat down next to him.
The two of us, sat in silence for several minutes before he pulled out his ear-buds, and turned to look at me.
"Did you want something sweetheart?"
"Are you...?"
"Am I what?"
I raised my eyebrows at him, looking at the ceiling. "Ya know... Him."
He smiled, looking at the floor. "What do you think?"
"I knew it..."
"Did you have a question for me?"
I hesitated... who was I to question Him? "Why?"
"Why?" He looked at me questioningly
"Yes. Why? Why are you just sitting here listening to music when you could be out there", I gestured widely to the windows, "doing some good. I mean you created this world after all! Why not do something?!"
He smiled. "I can't fix everything for you girly."
"I don't want..." he held his hand up, cutting my words short.
"You do want me to fix everything, but if I did, what would you truly gain from it?"
"A better world!"
"But would you appreciate it?"
I started to say yes, then stopped. I shook my head.
"See? You have to help yourself, or how would you learn to appreciate this beautiful world my girl?"
He placed his hands on either side of my face, wiping away the tears I didn't were there.
"You know I love you right?" I nodded. "Then you know I do this not because I don't want to, but because of what I want for you." I nodded again, and he kissed me on the forehead. The max operator called out the next stop, and when I looked up he was gone.

Haikus

(About the stars)
Like winter snowflake
Soft in the nights sky the stars
What stories they tell.

(I'ts about 9gag. If you're a 9gager, you'll get it)
Together we laugh
Vote page beckons like evil.
We have your soul now.

(About the beach)
Sand between my toes.
Water, too cool for season.
I'll wait for summer.

(About my daughter)
Angry toddler fit.
Why must you cry little one.
The world's not that bad.

Ten People

I found a writing exercise online, that said to pick ten people I know, and write one sentence about them.
Errr okay...

I think she needs to loosen up, be less prudish ya know?
He's one of the most handsome men I know, beautiful at his very core.
Thinking of ways to out smart him is harder than I would have ever thought.
I never thought I could fine someone so lovely, and so interesting at first meeting.
I wish that if she had to be passionate about something, that, that something would be less crazy.
Subtly is not her strong suite, nor mine.
Wishing that she would take more pride in herself will get me nowhere until she wants to do it herself.
A daily conversation with him, and I feel worlds better about it's events.
Adventure is on the rise, and I think she might be able to get me there.
More than anyone else I know, they probably think this last line is about them... :P

Battleground

It was warm out. Bright, and sunny. Too nice considering what we were all milling around waiting to do.
A horn sounded, and the barrier holding us back was released! Surging forward we rushed toward the center of the arena weapons in hand. I cast my protection spells on as many of my compatriots as I could and continued sprinting toward the epicenter of the battle.
Renalto grabbed the waiting artifact, and turned on his heal, dashing my direction. Casting as many healing, and protection spells, as I could, as fast as I could, I followed him, praying that it would be enough to keep him alive.
My efforts, however were simply not enough. The horrific nature of the artifact was such that it siphoned his very life away faster than I could heal it, and he died.
I felt a sharp pain in my back, and whirled around to face an attacker wielding two short swords. I began to heal myself, when my spell failed. I threw a curse of deadly power into his face, and watched as he fell before me. The damage, however was too great, and before I was able to heal myself fully, I was accosted by another assailant.
The world was black for a moment... and I found myself in limbo, with my fallen companions. I rejoiced at seeing their faces again.
Abruptly, we were whole again. Alive. Smiling, we looked at each other, and ran back into the fray.

Past It

"You honestly want to know?"
"Yes damn it? Yes."
"Fine." I took a deep breath and glared at him. "I hate you. I want you out of my life, so I can begin the process of forgetting that you were ever part of it."
I stared at him, watching while his face fell. He lowered his eyes, and looked at the floor. "Why?"
"Why?" I said through my teeth.
"Yes. Why?" He whispered.
"Because what you did to me is so beyond the realms of unforgivable that I... I just can't see past it." I sat down in the arm chair, and put my head in my hands. "Just go." I whispered. "Please... just go."
He stood for a moment before I heard his feet moving on the floor. The door creaked as it opened, and clicked quietly shut.
I looked up. He was gone. Somehow I wasn't relieved that he left, that the fight was over. I had hoped, deep down inside of me, that he would have fought more to keep me. It was irrational, I knew that, but there it was none the less. I tried to stand up, but just couldn't. I didn't have enough energy for even that. I brought my legs to my chest, wrapped my arms around my knees, and cried myself to sleep.

Intimacy

I leaned back against the head rest, and stared out at the darkness on my way home. Memories rolled around in my mind like a happy kitten nuzzling my leg. Skin like silk, the feeling of muscle under my hands, the smell of warm bodies, the sounds of flesh on flesh. Flashes of unforgettable moments brought a satisfied smile to my face.
Intimacy, in it's finest form is more than just a way to show someone how you feel. It's sharing a part of who you are with another soul.

Early

It's so early in the game, and I've already lost the drive to do it. I sighed. I'm tired of this back and forth. I wish I could just make up my mind. I know what I want to do. I just need to work up the courage... Some day I'll get that tattoo...

House

You need to tell him how you feel. He needs to know. You have to tell him. You can't ignore these feelings. Hiding how you feel will accomplish nothing.
Sighing, I get up out of my chair. I've been staring at my husband, on his computer for a hour now, trying to work up the courage to speak to him. I walk over to him, and place my hands on either side of his face. Looking him directly in the eyes I say... "Clean the house."

Burn

Focus
How am I supposed to focus with all this... 
FOCUS.
Alright alright.
Breathe. In and out.
I take a deep breath in, and let it out. Looking at the palm of my hand I think of flame, and heat. I feel my hand warming up, as though I'm standing with my hands over a fire.
That's a good image. Hold on to that.
I smile at the voice of my tutor in my head. Slowly I move my hands around each other until I have what feel like a sphere of pure heat. Together I bring my hands to my hip, and close my eyes.
Breathe. Focus.
The heat in my hands in almost unbearable, but I wait. I have to wait. I feel as though my fingerprints are about to melt off. Abruptly I open my eyes, and thrust the sphere forward at the waiting dummy fifty feet away. It erupts in a burst of flames I didn't know I was capable of.
I let out a breath and looked down. My hands were whole, and unburned.
I passed the test.

Who am I?

I don't know who I am. No really.
I was born a Brower, so I began life as a daughter. I married into the Swingley Family, and became a wife. I now have a daughter, adding mother to my repertoire, but none of these things are who I am. They're all roles I play. So who am I? I guess it's time to find out.

Confession

I have a confession to make... I'm eating dutch butter cookies, and dipping them in chocolate cake icing... 

I fought all day to not buy sweets, which, since I work at a convenience store, is harder than you might think.

I got home, and trudged through the door. It was midnight at this point so went straight for the fridge. Lo and behold but what did I see? An opened container of chocolate icing tempting me. Suddenly the thought occurred to me, that I had an opened tin of butter cookies that I was gifted for Christmas, and an idea was born! I grabbed the icing, grabbed the cookies, and am now in bed with both.
Yes, while you are reading this post, I have already gone to bed, full of chocolate and dutch cookie goodness.

You know you want some.

Pout

I still have Christmas stuff up. Yes. I said it. Christmas stuff. Don't judge me. I like it. I love still seeing the blue and white stockings, the ornaments that we hung on the wall since we didn't have a tree. I know I should take them down... I don't wanna... alright... alright... I'll do it tomorrow... *pout*

Twice

I've started this thing twice already, and haven't liked anything that I've put down. I'm trying hard to not think and just write. It's harder than the drawing project I did. I find that with the drawing I could just start with a circle, and all of sudden POOF! There'd be a person there, like magic, and if I was lucky, or inspired enough, or the magic was strong enough... I'd put out something great. This is harder, I have to tell you what I think I'm seeing... I guess what doesn't kill me... right?

Lighter

Hands on the wall. Water running down my back. Don't think. Don't think. Focus on the water. It's hot. Really hot. I can feel my skin turning pink. I let the water wash away everything. All the anxiety, the stress, the anger, the bullshit, washing away. I can visualize it, like a filthy blackness swirling down the drain. Gone. Gone.

I feel lighter.

Goals

I started a project365 a year ago today, and I finished it. I never thought that I would, and some of my family even voiced doubts at the beginning, but I DID IT! I'm so proud of myself, I can't ever remember setting a goal so far away, and actually reaching it. There's a sense of accomplishment, and pride deep in the pit of my stomach, that I hope stays for a long while. If you were following me through it all, Thank you. Thank you so much for your support, and encouragement. I hope this new project goes just as well.

Sisters

I have one older, and one younger sister.
My mother told me once, not to worry that I didn't get along with my sisters. That when she was young, her and her sisters fought like cats, and dogs. That when we grew older we would be best of friends, just like she was with hers. I didn't believe her then, and I was certain that no amount of time would change how I felt about the situation.
Years have passed since then. Each of us have decided to share our lives with someone special. All of us brought new lives into the world, and rejoiced in the wonder that is motherhood. In this time, I've developed that friendship that comes with time, and common ground, but most of all... more than anything...

... I know they'll always put up with my shit... because, hey, we're sisters.

Fight

I never wanted to fight. I never really had anything I thought really needed the difference that one me would make. The negative possibilities behind the SOPA, and PIPA bills are endless, and insanely disturbing. Don't let this one slide. Sign the petition. Call your state Senator. Don't let the internet die.
Wikipedia shut down for the day to protest this... What will you do?

Stonger

Do you really want to do this? Are you already giving up? Don't do this! You're stronger than you think! Just put it down, and walk away. There are people who care about you, and your well being. Your husband... what would he think...?
I sighed, turned on my heal, and walked out of the isle.
I didn't really want the doughnuts anyway...

Relax

Breath in... Breathe out...
Relax.
Clear your mind. Empty the space.
It's a white room. No windows. No doors. Empty.
Relax.
Picture a meadow... a meadow..? How is that going to... *sigh*
Relax.
Breathe in... Breathe out...

Blank

I'm blank. Empty. Nothingness is all that's here.
I can't think of a damned thing to write, so my husband tells me to stop thinking about it, and just write. "Like those writing exercises." he says "ya know? The ones that tell you to write for a minute straight, with out stopping. No thinking, no pausing, no correcting, just write... humph.
What does he know...? Like I'm just gonna be able to write a page about nothing...
Oh...

Listen

I lean back against the wall, arms crossed against my chest, as a low, soft voice speaks with a slow, steady cadence. I smile as I listen to my husband read our daughter her bedtime story. He doesn't know I'm listening, but I can't help eavesdropping. There is so much love in his voice, you can hear him tell her how much he loves her with every line, every turn of a page. He kisses her on the cheek, and tucks her in.
I wait.
He walks out of her room, and shuts the door behind him, looking up, he sees me, and blushes.
"Were you listening?"
"Maybe..." I grin at him. "Will you read me a story?"

Mud

Two people, inches away from touching, they lean in, breathing heavy, who will make the first move...? The kiss, the touch. The moonlight streams through the window. The curtains softly waft in the wind. Slowly the camera pans away. It's not real. TV never portrays the reality of truly passionate sex. It's a sticky, sweaty, dirty mess. A wonderful mess.
I always did like splashing in the mud...

Breathe

I got out of bed, and sat on the living room couch. I couldn't sleep, and I didn't want to wake her up. I turned the TV on, and flipped though the channels. Nothing caught my interest so I turned it off, and walked back into the bedroom.
I stopped.
I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't move.
She was so lovely simply laying there asleep, I just stood, and stared at her.
The black cotton sheets scrunched underneath her stomach, leaving her back bare to the open air. I took a deep breath and held it as I moved towards the bed.
The floor creaked loudly and she turned to face me.
She rubbed her eyes and sat up to look at me. "Can't sleep baby?"
"I'm alright."
"You sure?"
"Yeah." I crawled back into bed, and laid my arm over her stomach, pulling her into me.
She turned in my arms and kissed me. One. Two. Three times in quick succession.
"I love you baby. Goodnight." she whispered against my lips before turning away again.
"I love you too." I kissed the back of her head, and only then did sleep and the dreams that I knew would come claim me.

Exercise

Don't stop... you can do it... keep going... one more.. one more... one more... muscle failure. *sigh* I can do this. Okay what's next? Bicep curls? Check. Bridge exercise to muscle failure. Check. Oh man that hurts my butt...

Yes I said the workout hurt my butt muscles, try not to laugh. Seriously though, this exercise is not as easy as you would think after 20 or so reps. Squats are hard for me too, always have been, but I'm feeling them more than I think I used too. That might have something to do with the lack of exercise at all, then again it might have something to do with the way I eat.

No more bags of Reeses Pieces for me, or doughnuts, or gummy orange slices... all of which they sell at the convenience store I work at... I'm screwed.

Cuttlefish

Today's blurb is inspired by my friend Zac.

Have you ever seen a cuttlefish? I did once. I lived In Honolulu, Hawaii for about a year, and while I was there I got to go to Hanauma bay. I loved it. That was where I saw the only wild cuttlefish I've ever seen.

With the taste of saltwater in my mouth, and the sun on my back, I snorkeled around the bay looking at all the brightly colored fish as they swam hurriedly away from me. I found a humahumanukanukaapuaa (yes that's it real name. Say it in parts...huma huma nuka nuka a pu a a), and a school of blue tangs. After a while I found a cuttlefish! I knew it instantly with its ruffle like side fins, and buggy eyes. I decided to follow it... for an hour. I don't think it even knew I was there. Finally I tried to get closer to it, and it bolted (like all smart fish do), and I headed back to the shore. I came away that day with two things. A wonderful, unforgettable memory, and a back as red as a lobster... make that three things... that was the day I learned to wear waterproof sunscreen.

Sorry

Sorry.
It's a simple word, with so much meaning behind it. How many relationships have gone unhealed because of the lack of that one clump of letters? How many more were repaired when some one decided that an apology wouldn't cost them their pride? I don't think people understand the importance of "sorry".
I don't know about you, but I think we all could stand to say it more. So, suck it up, and go say "I'm sorry" to someone you've hurt. You'll never know, until you do it what that might mean to them.

What If

What if I can't pay the bills this month?
What if I get sick again?
What if I can't handle this?
What if I don't make the cut at work?
What if the breaks on the car go out again?
What if I dropped everything and just disappeared?
What if the world really does end on 12/21/12?
What if I won the lottery?
What if there really is a zombie apocalypse?

I never liked this game... keeps me awake a night... 'specially the zombies... *shrug* at least I'll be prepared for the hordes of family trying to eat my face.

Cows

When most people think of cows they think of milk, or that awful stench that comes from too many cows shoved into a transport trailer, or maybe even lush green Californian fields, the gentle beasts lowing about.

Me, I think of my father. No really. I remember him teaching me to rope cattle, and by cattle I mean a hay bale with a pair of horns tied to the top of it. I remember riding in the back of the tractor, kicking the bales off to feed the cows. I remember the cowgirl hat that I wish I still had that was many sizes too big.

How many people do you know who would admit that when they smell cows (and their.. poo) they think of their Dad?

Now you know one.

Snow

It snowed! It snowed!

Like diamonds on the grass, and crystal lace on the trees, the downy whiteness that is the harbinger of winter, true winter, has come at last.

Come play! It beckons. Come play! The snow on the ground, has turned night into day. Come play!

No.. no... I mustn't. Well... maybe for just a moment.

*Thump*
Ouch... Dammit.

Control

Father Time it seems would remind me that I'm not going to live forever. One day I'll be gone. Dust, like everyone before me. Really dwelling on it is terrifying. Better to focus on there here and now. I can't change the past, I don't know what the future holds... but this moment... I can control.

Inside

The trees! Oh God the trees!
I can hear them creaking, groaning, moaning.
Calling me with their song of wind and wood.
Beckoning outside my window with fingers like splinters.
CRACK! CRASH! BOOM!
I think I'm glad I stayed inside...

Swagger

Every woman has it. That swish. That sway. They show it in their walk, and the extra brightness in their smile.You can see it in their hips, just as they feel it. Women talk without words. More often than not you can see how they're feeling without ever hearing a word.
So to all the men out there. Listen = Look.

Yeah, I thought you'd like that.

I Never

I never thought I'd get this far. In life. In age. I never dreamed that I would make it past twenty five. I never imagined that I would have a daughter, and a husband. I never aspired to be the Assistant Manager of my own store. It never dawned on me, until recently that a person could be so happy, and so unsatisfied, all at the same time. I never.

The Beginning

Project 365 Day 1
Everything has a beginning.

"In the beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth."
"Two households, both alike in dignity..."
"We the People of the United States..."
"Once upon a time..."
"This one time, at band camp..."

This is the beginning of what I hope to be an enlightening journey. I hope to share things I was too afraid to share. I dream of creating something wonderful for you to read and enjoy. I desire to paint a picture with words that pulls you into my world, and reveals the golden wonders that are here to behold.

Welcome to my Scribbled Odyssey.