I don't know why I even bother to buy candy for the trick-or-treaters. Last year, I only had one little boy come. He got a good portion of the loot since no one else had been by. Currently, it is 9:52 pm and in trick-or-treater time, it's late, done. Da game is ova.
Grand Total of Trick-or-Treaters this year? A Big FAT zero.
You sat picking ticks off of your dog. We dug holes in your front yard and buried them in small coffins that once held candy bats and Draculas. I wonder if they are still there.
I am a participant in x365.
Buried among the slew of today's posts, kind of hoping no one will read this, is another vivid dream. One that made me feel when I woke up. If you do read this, I ask that you comment for my sanity's sake and so that I don't feel like a complete fucktard.
Act I, Scene I: My parents called to tell me that Scoobie was alive again. Somehow she was back, so I went to their house to see her. She looked completely different. Her hair was long and matted. Her eyes looked old and diseased with cataracts. She was weak and could barely move. She lifted her head and tried to get up to come to me but her back legs did not seem to work. I rushed to her and laid down on the floor next to her. I pet her ears and head and kissed her, telling her I loved her. She died right there while I was laying with her. Jackie came around with yellow eyes, looking like a ferocious, rabid SS police dog. She darted around the corner and I did not see her again. Red, brown and yellow leaves blew around the backyard.
Act I, Scene II: I was in a convenience store that was located within a complex of condominiums/resort. There was a large pool area with a waterfall that I could see through the large window in the back. I ran into an old friend, DP, greeted him and gave him a hug. I told him that Christine was around somewhere and should be here shortly. Then we ran into an ex-boyfriend of mine. We all stood around talking for a while when, during the conversation, I came to understand that we were to be married the next day. I froze and started to panic a little because this man had really hurt me in the past and wasn't sure when all of this had transpired. Mommy came around the corner carrying a pack of gum and other things she had picked up. Daddy was carrying a financial investment magazine of some kind. I flipped though it briefly. They seemed to be aware of the next day's plans so I hesitantly shrugged off my confusion and apprehension.
GW and I went to my childhood bedroom, sat on my bed and and lay together on the afghan Gramma Marcy had crocheted for me when I was little. We had a brief 'frollick' and blankets were everywhere. Just before the interaction became ultimately intimate (for lack of better wording and censorship) he sat up on the end of the bed and turned his back to me. His head hung very low. I immediately was angry and annoyed at the way he seemed to be sulking for attention. When he spoke, his tone exuded indifference and hatefulness. He stood up to dress. Cautiously, I questioned him why he was acting the way he was and received only a dead blank stare. Then he said that the wedding was tomorrow and that I shouldn't make so much of things. I told him then and there that there was no way I could marry him if this was the way things were going to be. Christine and DP came into the room at this time to collect me and we all walked out together.
I would like to introduce you to my sister, Laura. She is new to blogspot, blogging and blogs in general. After much hinting, prodding and flat out telling them they need to start up their own, Laura is the first in my family to jump on the bandwagon. To join the masses.
She started her blog as journal for herself and as a way to keep her husband, Jerry, updated during his deployment to Iraq. He left last Saturday.
JerryLa Paloma's intercom. Magnetic bees. Pancho. Chico. Jungle Hunt. Pit Fall. Peas from the garden. It was always so much fun at your house. We would hide behind closed shutters when our mom showed up.
I am a participant in x365.
When I was six, Christine had a friend named Emily and Emily had everything. Going to her house to spend the night was like going to Disney Land (or China, where they make all of the things we envied). Hello Kitty, Little Twin Star, Atari, you name it. She even had a fluffy-headed stuffed animal named Frou Frou. When you shook her head (in the most loving and affectionate way, of course) her soft, pretty pink hair would stand up all over. Every little girl's Must Have. After much begging, pleading and the donation of our left kidneys, our parents decided that we too deserved our own Frou Frous. So, they talked to Santa and he was was given consent to leave, under the tree, a pink headed white headed Frou Frou for Christine and a blue-headed Frou Frou for me.
It was not long after we got our fluffy headed Froufs that we discovered putting baby powder in their hair was too much fun! A little shake of powder went a long way. A half a bottle would make it into the next room, at least.
We stayed at Gramma Mary's one weekend and were having our usual fantabulous Frou Frou fun when Gramma came in and took the powder away, telling us, "You're going to give yourselves asthma!"
You went to a concert with us and played the drums on the back of my seat all through "Hotel California". I wanted to punch you in the eye. You still owe me ticket money.
I am a participant in x365.
Here I lay, bleary eyed and wondering where it comes from. I could not make this shit up if I tried.
I was working on a paper for which I had researched illicit drug use in adolescents. After completion, my paper would be presented to a magazine for possible publishing. My article was about methamphetamine use and the effects it has on teenagers and the lives of people who care for them. It was submitted to Rolling Stone through an intricate pneumatic tube system. In order to get their reply I had to use a different method of tubes. After pouring water down some clear neoprene, I watched it roll and fall out of sight until the water flowed back up and tube began to fill. I put my ear to it to listen to their response. A man's voice told me that they loved the article but unfortunately it was too graphic and 'scary' to publish. (Almost famous?)
On the way home, I drove on a freeway that passed over Disney Land. I could see the Small World off to my right. The man I was driving with told me which roadways to take since I was unfamiliar with California freeways. I made it back to the friends' house where I was staying. They lived in some sort of a small commune that housed several Duplexes that surrounded a central courtyard with dead grass. Their house looked as if it were all bedrooms. No kitchen or living area, just a long hall with sleeping areas. Even though there were many beds they told me there was no room for me to stay so I ended up in their neighbor's garage on a little canvas stretcher. Everything was coated in a thick layer of dust and smelled damp and of mildew. When I woke, their neighbor came out and told me that I needed to clean up the mess, which included piles of old oil filters, dryer lint balls, coffee cans filled with nuts and bolts and baby diapers (used and unused). After finishing, I walked back across the courtyard and spotted my dad, outside, watching a game on a television. My mom was gardening. Hotel California was playing.
When I needed to leave my dad told me to stay because the game had three quarters left to go. Somehow, he was equating the amount of time left in the game to how much daylight was left. I argued that I was going to be late. The sun was sinking decidedly fast, I didn't know where I was going and was afraid to drive home on the freeways.
My choices for a ride were a little convertible matchbox-type car or an old refrigerator. When I decided to take the mini car out, my dad told me that he preferred that I use the fridge. I opened the freezer door and the fridge part was filling with water. So, I told my dad that the last time I drove the fridge the door kept swinging shut in my face and I couldn't see anything. I ended up driving away in the little car, dwarfed by SUVs and semis with the cool wind in my hair.
Lots of laughs in Mr B's class. We were trouble. When you got sick I didn't know what to do. My mom said that was normal. I panicked, then vanished. Did I let you down?
I am a participant in x365.
My parents were supposed to be going out of town. MK, ChM, JPed were going to spend the night at my parents house, like a sleepover for grownups. All of us and Christine were playing some sort of "Never have I ever..." or "I would rather..." game in the living room. There were more people there who were sitting around on floor and couches. MK said that JPed couldn't dictate where we should be and what we should do and wanted to move somewhere else so I went down the hall to find a new place. I opened my parent's bedroom door to find that Daddy was in there sleeping in the evening darkness and on the left side of the bed. Puzzled and a little worried, I went out to tell the others that my dad was still there. ChM got up off the floor and started gathering her things. She decided she didn't want to stay if my mom and dad were going to be home. She said it was bullshit and that she was under the impression that my parents wouldn't be there. Then she asked me if I would go with her to make a phone call to let someone know she wouldn't be staying. I did but I couldn't imagine who she would be calling. It turned out to be a guy she was seeing and she was going to go out with him instead. I couldn't help feeling that somehow we all disapproved of him.
MK decided we should all go out. We got ready, picked out what we were going to wear and left. We ended up at a bar with different levels. The top level was a club. It was dark, cold and loud. Tons of people were drinking and dancing. It opened up to an outside area where there was a balcony that looked over the bottom level that was more like a restaurant. It was warm outside and people were sitting around on the benches and tables, drinking and talking. I was looking over the balcony watching the people downstairs. Directly below was this guy who was sitting with his back to me. I was looking down on sweaty, hairy ass crack decked out in black pleather. Later, Christine came upstairs to tell me she had started making out with him before she realized he was a disgusting wet, hairy beast with bad breath.
The club was part of a much bigger building and somehow we all ended up getting lost inside of it. We were riding elevators to different floors. One had a library with tall ceilings that made it echo. Another was like a little boutique. We rode the elevator down and were making our way through a maze of huge columns of cement and stone. We happened upon a couple of people who appeared to have come from the club, by the way they were dressed and smelled like cigarette smoke. They told us they could help us get out. They said they were medical students and then gave us valium and duragesic patches to chew on, saying it would help us to relax. It was very Alice In Wonderlandish. We chewed on the plastic and went on our way.
On the day I was found
All the kids gathered round
The girls spoke up
And they said "Gotta take this one home"
They could tell right away
That I was glam to the bone
Glam to the bone
Glam to the bone
G-G-G-G-Glam to the bone
G-G-G-G-Glam
G-G-G-G-Glam
I chewed a thousand shoes
Before I met you
I'll chew your Minolo & Choo's, baby
Before I am through
I wanna poo on your floor, pretty baby
Yours and yours alone
I'm here to bark at you, honey
Cause I'm glam to the bone
Glam to the bone
G-G-G-Glam
G-G-G-Glam
Glam to the bone
I make the neighbors yell
I'll make the mailman run
Wreck your house all to hell
But I'll be lots of fun
I wanna pee on your burbur, baby
Yours and yours alone
I'm here to whine at you, honey
Cause I'm glam to the bone
G-G-G-G-Glam
G-G-G-G-Glam
G-G-G-G-Glam
Glam to the bone
~Written by Scoobers
~Inspired by the Dookster, her new sweatshirt and George Thorogood and the Destroyers.
Dookie would like to give her thanks to K.B. and her herd, without which she would not be where she is today. She loves her sweatshirt!
THANK YOU!
Glamour Girl
A gentle and kind person. You were thin, frail, had broken bones and were sick a lot. You spoke softly with a shaky, feeble voice. You seemed 100 years old to me. You were probably forty-five.
I am a participant in x365.
That was your sister's name too. The difference was one year, a middle initial, her big hair, and your's long and wavy. She was a bully. You were one of the sweetest people I knew.
I am a participant in x365.
You were new in Ms McConnell's class. We were instant best friends. Sleep overs. Smurfs at six a.m. Magic shows. Halloween. Swimming at your Gramma's. Cooties, Connect Four and Hungry Hungry Hippos. Brownie Troop 77.
I am a participant in x365.
I must have been temporarily insane to date you. A pathological liar, you told everyone your father died tragically. I cried with you. Consoled you. Then, about a week later, I spoke with your dad.
I am a participant in x365.
A student in Mr Rod's class, I helped you with your reading and math. You got the class to sign, "I love you," to me during your recital and then I got a group hug.
I am a participant in x365.
Microbird
Green eyes. Dark hair. Beautiful. I professed my love and carved your name on the bridge, walking home from school one day. Years later, I met you at a party and your name... was 'Forrest'.
I am a participant in x365.
Plastic sunflowers line your banister. Your rubber stamp collection on display. Magnets, buttons, figurines, and do-dads galore. There is something everywhere but the ultimate is PeeWee Herman sitting on your mantle wearing a Beatles pin.
I am a participant in x365.
Smacking your lips. Picking your teeth. Licking your fingers. Wide mouth laughs and full on conversations with food in your mouth. The day you talked and spit on my leg, I thought I might faint.
I am a participant in x365.
October 2007 - Domestic Violence Awareness MonthWe were driving down a neighborhood street. It was dusty and windy and dark. I'm not sure where we were headed. Me, Christine and my ex-boyfriend were plowing down a dirt road in this huge, green, boat-of-a-car. We skidded to a stop in front of an old house that appeared to be part of a ghost town or movie set at Old Tucson. Something was after us so we ran inside to get away from whatever it was.
Christine and MyEx ran around the corner, down the hallway and through the next door. I tried to follow and got to the end of the hallway when the dark figure came swiftly up and cornered me there. He held out a blade, shaped like a half-moon, and said, "This is what you get for not doing as I say." He held the blade to my throat and pushed. The last thing I remember was the blade going all the way through my throat and envisioning that I was looking down my own trachea which looked like a long, red, sucking tube. I wasn't panicked or franticly trying to get away. I just let it happen. Sure it would be my last, I took a deep breath of warm air and then I woke up.
They teased you for being overweight. I felt bad for you but I did nothing to stop it. Now, 'I'm sorry I did not stick up for you', is my apology you can never hear.
I am a participant in x365.
After the Rain, Tucson ArizonaSears Roebuck and Co. You were new to the group. The stock guys took you in and you tried to be 'one of the boys'. It wasn't funny. It wasn't cool. It's called sexual harassment.
I am a participant in x365.
Always a laugh. You're difficult to follow but you're honest and hilarious about it. My favorite quote at the beginning of shift report from you, "Drop kick me Jesus... through the goal post of life."
I am a participant in x365.
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'Hall Pass' by Mr McGlynn and Kathy-rineThe week after September 11th we spotted you on 5th Avenue. I headed you off across the street from Saint Patrick's Cathedral. You shook my hand and said to me, "Thank you, that means a lot."
I am a participant in x365.
Oncology nurses get similar responses when people find out what they do for a living. We hear, "Isn't it depressing? That must be so hard. I could never do that," to which I reply: Yes, sometimes it's a tough job but I love my patients and taking care of them and their families. Caring for them and seeing them along their journey through diagnosis, treatment and planning for the unforeseeable future is nothing compared to the physical and emotional suffering that they experience every day. If I can help to make that journey a tiny bit easier, then I have done my job. I can not imagine doing anything else.You gave me a pencil with a green fuzzy and googly eyes on the end. You liked me but you never knew I liked you back. You became a 'movie star' in KidCo and disappeared.
I am a participant in x365.
You lived on Alta Vista and we would walk to school together with our Grammas. You were my best friend. We went to Chuckee Cheese. Then one day you threw mud on my favorite dress.
I am a participant in x365.
Multiple IV infusion pumps are alarming.
Bed 2 puts his call light on.
Bed 4, "Nuuuuuuuuuuuurse! I need water!"
Bed 3, "God DAMMIT!"
Bed 4, "Waaaater! Nuuuuuuuuuuurse! I need waaaaaaaaaaaaaaater!"
Bed 7, "Somebody help me, pleeeeeeeeeeeease!"
Bed 5 wretches.
Bed 4, "Nuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurse!"
Something crashes to the floor in Bed 1. Thankfully, not the patient.
Bed 4, "I want to see the monkeys!"
Laughter from Bed 8 (and the nurses station).
Bed 4, "Nuuuuuuuurse! Nuuuuuuuuurse! Nuuuuuuuuuurse!"
Bed 3, "Oh, Damn."
A dying infusion pump from the dirty utility room continues to beep.
'C' smothers it with pillows.
Bed 3, "Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy."
*I am on auditory overload.
Ninety-four. Wars. Genocide. Cancer. Loss. I can not begin to imagine the pain you have experienced. I wish you were not always so grief stricken, so sad. Please know that you are loved by many.
I am a participant in x365.
You would be 101 today. I miss you much more than you would realize. I think about you often. Me and Mommy talked about you the other day. Did you hear us?
Happy Birthday, Gramma.
I am a participant in x365.
I come across some pretty cool posts and interesting ideas when reading other people's blogs. Today, I was over at Schmutzie's site and found a link to the *x365 project. This guy decided, when he turned 40, that he would make a list of 365 people he has encountered in his lifetime. He wanted to write about each person, in 40 words- no more, no less, each day of the year, and take "a year long journey" through his life.
I think this is such a great idea to recall those people, who may be just a fleeting memory, who have made some impact in our lives. Every person we encounter makes something of an impression on us but certain people do so in a way that causes us to remember them for one reason or another. I have decided to participate in the project and am in the process of compiling my list of people, which is not as easy a task as it would sound, according to the *x365 mastermind. I created a page so that I can keep track of my own project's progress.
If you are interested in finding out how this project was started and how you can participate, please visit the *x365 website.
Thank you so much for taking time out of your busy day to visit here. It is nice to know that you would view this page either by accident on a Google search, a blog content alert or intentionally via Bloglines or some other subscriber service. If this is your first time here, Welcome! You are welcome back any time and your comments along your way are appreciated! If you are a returning visitor, thanks to those of you who leave your comments to let me know that you have been here.
Mommy and Daddy were getting married again. I went over to their house to get ready and, like one of those bad-hair days, was having problems with my dress, makeup, hose (why I was wearing pantyhose is beyond my ability to analyze) and was pressured for time. I could hear people in the living room and Christine peeked around the kitchen corner to see. All we could see were the legs of people sitting in folding chairs. In the family room, Daddy was sleeping in his chair and I went to go wake him up to tell him to get ready because we only had 15 minutes. It was hard to wake him up and when he finally did, I realized it wasn't him and the man got up very quickly, grabbed my arm and yelled at me.
The situation had turned so that my whole family was being held hostage in our home by this man who I think was Vincent D'Onofrio (the guy from Men In Black, The Cell & Law and Order: Criminal Intent). He had grabbed mommy and had a gun but suddenly I did too. Hiding behind the couch, I was trying to shoot at his feet from underneath it but missed. Mommy got away and he came after me. I ran out the front door, into the yard and buried myself under a large evergreen bush that used to grow on the east side of the house when I was little. I kept saying, "Please don't see me", over and over. Vincent ran out after me and jumped into my dad's old yellow Toyota Corolla. I crept into the Gile's front yard and into their garage as he drove slowly down the street looking for me. I could hear him yelling what he would do to me when he found me.
When I ran into our neighbor's home, I yelled for help and a man who was not our neighbor appeared and told me that since it was not his house he could not let me in... Not even to use the phone! Over the wall, in the back yard, I could hear a commotion going on.
I woke up to find Dookie had broken through her gate and had gotten out of the kitchen.
I'll be good while you sleep
Love the look like she wants back in...I have barely healed from the many bruises and scrapes I obtained from the camping trip from over a month ago. After Rocky Point, I have glass in my heel that has yet to extract itself. I have bruises on my legs and a slightly swollen ankle which I have no recollection of obtaining. My legs look like I strive to be the next Courtney Love.
Tonight, after a long day of cleaning, running errands and cleaning again... mopping up after Dookie's many dookies (four to be exact), I had two beers. Two beers made me stumble and miss a step that I have been walking down and over for over two years. Let me elaborate. I had my first beer at 8 pm. My second, I started at 10 pm and at 10:30, I did this...
If I am lucky, it will heal by Thanksgiving.
Oh ooh Oh! Glad it's not Sunday! ...
It is Monday morning and I am enjoying a cup of coffee out on the patio. It is overcast and a cool 80 degrees... ahh, September and a day off. Welcome, both of you. Out of my funk and back to myself. I have a lot to do today but since it is Monday and I am spending my morning checking email and catching up on everyone's posts, I've decided to participate in Manic Monday, hosted by Fleur de Lisa.
I'll post again later with my weird-ass dream after I finish my "chores" and get my pictures downloaded. All I can say for an analysis are four words: the power of suggestion.
If technology was sufficiently advanced, would you be willing to clone yourself?
My own mini-me?! : D
I could take me home and raise me as my own! I could sing to me and play with me. Joke with me and laugh with (not at) me. I could take me to see Gramma Mommy and Grampa Daddy (uh... how weird would that be?) We could play with our sisters, niece and nephew (who would be older than my mini-me).
When I grow up I could give me all the answers to the questions I was too afraid to ask. I would explain to me in a way I would understand, why I was not allowed to attend the Def Leppard concert at 14 and a slew of other things that might make me an angry and resentful tennager towards the grown-up me. I would kick my ass if I ever caught myself smoking or drinking underage, among other things, and warn me why driving into a road containing a storm drain during monsoons is a bad idea. I would never let me get away with the things I know I am about to do (because I know myself so well). I would let me do all things I know would make me a happy, confident adult. I could fill me with the wisdom of my experiences so that I may be a new-and-improved-younger-thinner-smoother-less-sun-damaged version of myself.
Besides, I'm a blast! It would be fun to have me around! ; )
At the local grocery store you see an elderly woman shoplift a chicken. Do you tell the management?
Nah! She is not hurting anyone and I do not like to cause trouble so let her steal the chicken. Also, I would feel very badly if, because of me, she ended up with a misdemeanor on her record and was forced to eat her cat's kibble when she returns home from her incarceration.
If you could be 8 years old again for an entire day, knowing what you know now, how would you spend it?
Being September, I would skip school with my friends and my sister to go swimming at the park. We'd climb in our tree fort, carve our initials and then play kick ball. On the way home, we'd raid the nearest Circle K, drink ThirstBusters, eat HUGE chewy Sweet Tarts, Skittles and Bazooka gum. We'd go back to my parents, make mac n' cheese, watch Mtv and practice our dance routines. After my parents got home we'd play in the yard, catch lizards, and go for a swim. Since it is cloudy and is going to rain (because I said), we would all go inside, set up our sleeping bags in the living room, get in our Garfield PJ's and have a movie marathon. Then we'd have a seance and play 'Light As a Feather, Stiff As a Board'. We'd stay up late telling jokes, gossiping and laughing until my mom comes out for "...the last time!" We'd be quiet until the coast was clear and sneak out in our jammies to go back to the park. We'd do 'cherry drops', 'shooting stars' and 'around-the-world's' on the bars. We'd slide head first into the sand and swing on the swings until the sun came up and I turned 34 again.
*Update: Momma Clone is upset about 8 year old me's activities. I should know better than to be out after hours without adult supervision. Bad me. Grounded til further notice.
**Updating the update: I've been placed in detention for ditching class and not knowing what month it is.
