Category: Short Story

Feeling Proud – Instead of just Down

My Garden

What a spring and summer this has been! I have been unemployed since 3/24/17. I can’t believe 4 months have passed by already. Unemployment has been an extremely difficult situation for me. Finances are certainly an issue, but the effect on my self esteem has been most severe. To my credit – I haven’t just sat around thinking about how bad things are. I have kept busy. The thing that has kept me most busy is my garden, and oh my goodness – am I proud of my garden.

Watching nature work has kept my spirits up. Well – bugs have ticked me off a few times. Especially when it comes to my green beans. But – I have endured and learned – and as a result I am feeling quite proud of my determination and work. My family has supported my ups and downs, as well my excitement for anything and everything that has happened with the garden. While my trials are tough – the blessings of everything and everyone in my life are far greater.

We planted lavender in our front yard years ago to attract bees. The plant did not do very well until this year. Watching the honey bees flock to it is a daily pick-me-up. Watching them work in the garden is fun too. Because of the bees we have had a lot of squash already (both zucchini and crookneck). We have lots of cucumbers starting – they look like cute little gherkins right now.

Honey Bee and Lavender

The squash plants are starting to latch onto the plastic fence my husband put up inside the wood fence. He did this to keep the rabbits out, but now it has a new benefit. I went to pick through the plants yesterday -but there was a long branch I couldn’t move, and I was amazed to see it had little vines that had wrapped around the fencing to climb. It made my day!

Latching on

I really need a job. I really want a job. My self esteem could really use a job. Until that blessing comes – the blessings of my garden and my family are getting me through. Love is incredible that way!

Picking Up Pieces

sky

The faded blue summer sky highlighted the heat for Amanda’s friends and her to play in today. Hide and seek, running through sprinklers and drinking from the hose would be a part of their play time. Only children appreciate carefree days like this. Amanda loved to play outside. Each year her light blonde hair would turn almost white by summer’s end. Her four friends of similar age and an equal mix of boys and girls helped her enjoy summer days.

Before Amanda I had never noticed how present the sound of silence was even with noises of children playing outside. The silence was often shattered by the ominous sounds of police and ambulance sirens and my daughter’s reaction to them. The sirens would startle Amanda every time. She would drop to her knees, cover her ears with her hands, and scream and cry with a similar eerie sound of the sirens that excited her fears.

Dan and I adopted Amanda when she was almost two-years-old. Her mother and father were killed in a car accident and she was the only survivor. Amanda’s paternal family was limited, and while we kept her paternal grandparents in her life, they too were stolen from her life before she was four years old. She doesn’t seem to have much of a memory of them now, but we keep photos of them and her parents in a collage-type frame on her bedroom wall. Her family didn’t leave her life voluntarily, so Dan and I decided keeping their memory close to her was the right thing to do. She doesn’t ask questions about the pictures, and we haven’t talked much about them so far. Life has a way of helping you know when to do something, and Dan and I were waiting for the prompting.

“Mom!” her voice startled me while lost in thought.

“Yes. What?” I responded as calmly as possible.

“Can we all have a popsicle? It’s hot outside.” She asked with an excitement I admired.

“Of course. Trash, and I mean all trash, better make it to the trash when you are done.”

“Okay.” She ran out the door to give the good news to her friends.

Dan and I always keep a stash of popsicles in the freezer in the garage for Amanda and her friends. It is a cheap treat and helps keep Amanda and her friends close to home. Dan threatens to quit buying them often because he is always cleaning up the trash they leave behind. Someday they will learn. I hope.

“I see my words fell on deaf ears again, Megan.” Dan says in a playful tone while coming in from the garage.

“I will check on them in a few, and make sure they put their trash in the trash” I assured him.

“Don’t forget to look behind the bushes. They are great at hiding it there.”

The twinkle in his eyes always made my heart melt. I wish he could have passed those eyes onto a child for us to have together, but God had a different plan for us. Amanda was our plan, and what a wonderful blessing she was to our family.

“I need to go into the office for a bit. Are you okay to watch the kids? After I check on the trash of course.”

“That’s fine. I talked to Seth’s dad a moment ago and his wife did the same thing. Stuck him at home with the kids that is.”

“I am so glad the men of today can handle the responsibility” I teased.

“Very funny” he said while kissing me goodbye.

His truck was blocking my car in the garage, so I guess I’ll be driving that today. It is silver, with chrome trim, and in perfect condition. The truck is five years old, and with the exception of the body style, looks brand new. I always worried damage would happen when I was driving it. I hated having that responsibility.

“Amanda” I yelled. Did you guys throw your trash away?”

“I think so” she replied.

“Then why do I see wrappers and sticks on the porch?”

“Sorry Mrs. Helton! I will do it right now” Johanna offered to save her friend.

I watch Johanna scurry to keep her friend out of trouble. Her hair was black, straight and as long as Amanda’s. They were best friends and I could see their friendship lasting a lifetime. Just as I started the truck sirens in the distance sounded. I looked towards my daughter as she was quickly paralyzed with fear. Suddenly she ran into the back of the garage, cowered to her knees and started screaming. I shut off the truck and ran to be with her.

“Amanda Honey. It’s okay. Those sounds won’t hurt you” I said while wrapping her in my arms and rocking her calmly.

Just then Dan came running into the garage, and her friends stood at the garage opening. They all looked confused and concerned just like the other times this had happened. The noise kept getting louder, so we knew they were going to stop close to our home.

“Hey princess…. it’s okay” Dan offered while rubbing her back.

As luck would have it the emergency vehicles came to the house across from ours. Amanda’s eyes had a new and elevated fear that her voice could have never matched. We watched patiently as men jumped out of their vehicles to get inside our neighbors home.

“Henry is in trouble so these guys are just here to help” I said to Amanda.

Amanda’s friends slowly inched closer to her while watching the paramedics and police scramble outside. We all watched in silence except for Amanda’s cries. She had never spoken when the sirens made her scream, and when the sounds ended, life simply resumed as it had before. But not this time. This was too close for life to go on once the sounds were over.

After what seemed like forever, but really only six minutes, we watched the paramedics bring our older neighbor, Henry, out of his house while secured on a stretcher. They were talking to him, but we couldn’t hear anything they were saying.

“Amanda” I said softly. “Let’s move closer to our driveway so you can see he is okay.”

I picked her up while I stood to walk out of the garage. Dan and her friends followed my lead. We were all worried about Henry so getting closer seemed to be the right thing to do. After putting Henry in the ambulance, and shutting the doors, my daughter’s voice finally found life.

“He is dead?” she asked through sobs.

“No princess” Dan said. “he is just sick somehow and they are here to help him.”

The lights came back on for the ambulance and quickly drove away.

“He will never come back.” Amanda said.

“Of course he will” I said.

“That’s not what that truck does! They leave and never come back!” Amanda yelled while squirming out of my arms and running inside.

“Sorry guys. Come back in a couple of hours. She just needs some alone time with this happening today” Dan told her friends. They all left quietly with their heads down.

Dan and I walked inside and up the stairs to Amanda’s room. As expected, she was in her room, with her purple comforter pulled over her head. Quiet sniffles let us know she was still really upset. We reached her bed and I half-balanced myself on the limited available space on the side of her twin bed. Dan stood beside me.

“Amanda” I said softly.

“What” she asked while sucking snot through her nose.

“Let’s talk about what just happened outside, okay?”

Her comforter tossed in the air abruptly, and she sat up with attitude in her arms while continuing to push the covers for her bed away.

“Tell us what you are feeling so we can help you” Dan said.

“He is never coming back!” she yelled again.

“Amanda, I have been in an ambulance before and I am still here. Just because you get help doesn’t mean you don’t come back” I offered.

“Well, maybe you weren’t in the one I just saw.” Her eyes showed a defiance to the comfort I tried to offer.

“No, but an ambulance comes when there is an emergency. If you need more help they take you to the hospital, and when you are better you get to come home” I said.

“That’s a lie!” she screamed.

“Let me try” Dan offered while signaling he wanted to sit down. Reluctantly I got up.

“Hi princess. I want you to try to listen to me, okay?”

Amanda nodded in response. Admittedly I was annoyed she seemed more willing to listen to him.

“A long time ago, before you were even two-years-old, you were in a serious car accident with these people.” Dan took the frame of pictures off of her wall and pointed to Amanda’s mom and dad.

“Do you remember who they are?” Dan asked.

“Yes, you guys said they were my family first” she answered through a shaky voice from crying.

“Yes. See, this woman is your birth mom. And this guy is your birth dad. Kind of like Mom and I now, but you came from these two people. A truck, a big truck, hit the car you and your first family were riding in. It was a really bad accident.” Dan paused to allow what he was telling her to sink in. I then moved to sit at the foot of her bed so she could see me too.

“The truck hit the front of the car and you were in the back seat. Someone called 911 and the police and ambulances came to where your family was at. Your mom and dad were taken away in a different ambulance than you were taken in. But all of you were transported to the hospital from the accident.”

Amanda sat quietly as though she was living the details he was giving her. Almost like there was a new memory sparked inside of her.

“The doctors tried really hard at the hospital to save your mom and dad. Unfortunately the accident was really bad, and their injuries couldn’t be fixed. Your first mom and dad died that day, but they really didn’t want to leave you. We believe they worked with God in Heaven to help us find each other.”

“I don’t understand” Amanda finally said.

“Your mom and I adopted you because your mom and dad had to go to Heaven. People can raise children whose parents had to leave and it’s called adoption. Megan and I couldn’t have children together, but we were lucky to find you when you needed a family. You went away in an ambulance and you are still here. Megan went into an ambulance when she had a scary diabetic attack once, but she got better and came home too.”

“Amanda, I am so sorry your first parents had to go away.” I said.

Amanda looked down at the pictures and said “I barely remember them. I am not sure that I do.”
“You were really young. But, you do remember that day. Somewhere deep inside you remember, and that is why you get so scared when you hear sirens. They bring back the fear and confusion you suffered the day of your accident” I answered.

“This is a lot of information we are giving you, but we wanted you to have this truth so you can understand what is happening later on” Dan said.

“We love you so much. If you have any questions you just need to ask them. Today, tomorrow – whenever. Okay?” I said.

Amanda nodded and wiped her eyes and nose with the tissues Dan handed her.

“So I have two moms and two dads?” she asked.

“Yes” we replied in unison.

“Are you okay?” Dan asked.

“Ya. I guess I am okay” she answered.

“Do you want me to see if we can find Henry at the hospital? So you can see he is okay?” I asked.

“He is not coming home” she said flatly.

Dan and I both sat confused about what to say next.

“I know that look. I don’t know why. I know that look. He was sad as he said goodbye to me with his eyes. Maybe my other mom and dad had that look?”

“Sweetie, from what we know about what happened… you would not have seen them on the stretcher or going into the ambulance” Dan said.

“I just know that look. Can I go play now?” Amanda asked.

“Of course.” I said. Dan and I were both surprised by the abrupt ending to the conversation.

Amanda was quick to run down the stairs and out the door. Her friends came back over quickly and they enjoyed the rest of their summer day. I never went into the office. Instead we grilled burgers and hotdogs, and tried to make the hours as happy as possible. Amanda seemed okay. I was amazed how so much drama could be tabled by a child. If only adults could keep that craft in their older years.

That night, while I was brushing my teeth, Amanda came into the bathroom and sat on the toilet seat lid. After wiping my mouth I turned to look at her.

“I dream about them. I didn’t know who they were. I had their picture so I thought that is where they came from. In my dreams.” She said.

I smiled. “Are you okay?”
“I guess I am happy to know who they are. I remember a little I think. I think I remember her looking at me in the car. I remember that look. Her eyes. I always thought it was a dream.”

“Well, it might be a bit of both. Our minds are funny that way.”

“Maybe” she said while hopping off the lid. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight” I smiled while she walked away.

After Dan fell asleep I got up to read the articles and information we had about her family and the accident. I hadn’t noticed a line on the police report until reading it now. “The little girl was very confused, but not confused at the same time. Only 22 months old and she said “mom and dad said goodbye.”

I dropped the papers and cupped by hands around my mouth. I started to cry. This poor little girl I thought.

The next day Henry’s son was at the house. Dan and I went out to ask him about Henry, and hoping Amanda was wrong. Amanda was close behind us.

“Hi. We watched what happened yesterday. Is Henry okay?” I asked while expecting the worst.

“He is doing better and inside resting now. Is this little girl Amanda?” he asked.

“Yes” I replied confused.

“My dad asked to talk to her if I saw her. Is she okay to go inside now?”

I looked down at Amanda and she was already walking toward Henry’s front door.

“It’s open” he said. “He is on the couch just inside the door.”

Amanda walked in and somehow Dan and I knew we were supposed to wait outside for her. Inside, Amanda walked slowly toward the couch where Henry was waiting to see her.

“Hi” she said quietly.

“Well Hi to you too. Sit. I won’t break” Henry replied.

“Are you better now?” Amanda asked while sitting.

“I am thanks to you” Henry offered angelically.

“Me?”

“Yep. Thanks to you I had one more job to do” Henry said. “Your family in Heaven needed you to see sirens weren’t a bad thing. They love you and wanted me to tell you that. They are sorry they couldn’t come back after the sirens.”
Amanda started to cry. Finally she offered “Thank you. I am glad you are doing better. I was worried yesterday.”

“Me too” he replied while Amanda was walking out the door to see us.

Our daughter told us what happened with Henry. It only served to warm our souls to learn Henry died that night peacefully in his sleep. Thank God he had the energy for that one last job to do. Thank God her parents are still by her side too.

 

 

Saving Grace

jesus-always

The light pouring through the basement window was bright but altered through the dirt stuck to the glass. Noise from the outside was as clear inside as it was outside. Life was failing to be blocked from the darkness I was seeking.

Failure is too often the best friend of my choices. I tried dying my hair to block my premature grey from showing, but I was left with dry and brittle hair instead. I tried going to school, and while I earned a degree, I didn’t acquire the knowledge to do anything with it. Then there was my marriage. We had an incredible love affair, but changing it to a committed relationship was the end to the hot beginning we enjoyed. Our divorce was final on January 3, 2017 but the relationship ended one month after we married on May 6, 2016. I couldn’t take the promises in life anymore. I couldn’t be blinded by hope either. I was a failure, and the movement of life outside seemed to mock my reality.

My name is August Rain Thomas. The only natural part of my name is the last name of my father. My mother’s idea to name me after nature doomed me from the start. I know she loved my name, but she didn’t have to live with it! I never took my husband’s last name. I felt the last name of Lander would only bring further banter from people for my “earthly name.” Maybe my decision to keep my name escalated the demise of our marriage? Or maybe this was like the rest of my life; a start with an inevitable ending.

When we separated I moved into my friend, Jesse’s, basement. He has tried to make me see that life isn’t the tragedy I live, and while his ignorance is sweet – it isn’t right. I thought he had given up trying to reach me until I got home from court today. He had a gift wrapped for me on my metal desk. The note attached to the gift said:
“August rain cools the hottest of days, and helps life we need to grow. Here is hoping you can find your benefit to this world once again.” J.

I slowly unwrapped the shiny silver wrapping paper wondering what benefit was waiting for me. It was a small box from Amazon under the paper, and when I opened the box, a small book was waiting for me inside. It was Jesus Always by Sarah Young. 365 devotions.

He has got to be joking. Really? Jesse knows how I feel about religions and their teachings, but he still found this an appropriate gift to give me? My irritation and confusion was growing when I heard the slow creek of the basement door being opened.

“Safe to come down?” Jesse asked sheepishly.

“What the hell is this?” I asked.

Jesse held his hands in the air while walking down the 8 stairs. “August, I know your heart is going through a tough time. I also know you would never choose to read this book on your own. Believe it or not – I am not trying to push any beliefs I might have on you.”

“Well, you need to take a class on how not to push because clearly life hasn’t taught you that lesson yet!” I noticed I was trying to sound more angry than I was.

“I know it can seem that way. In reality, I really want you to find your own answers before the next chapter of your life starts. If He isn’t real you will only confirm that. Or you might find the purpose that has been lost in your trials. If this doesn’t help I will take the gift back. No questions. No debates will follow your giving it back either. Promise.”
“Jesse – thank you for trying to help. You are such a good friend, so to be fair I will read a page or two. Just be ready to find a new home for it.”

“Fair enough” he said while putting his hands back in the air to surrender.

Jesse left and I held onto this purple soft-cushioned book he bought for me.

“What the hell was he thinking?” I whispered.

I ate a snack for dinner and laid on the old metal futon I was using for a bed. It creaked with every movement, and the mattress hardly softened the metal bars it rested on. It wasn’t much but it was mine. It wasn’t nice enough for anyone else to want, and I felt comfort knowing it was something only a fire could rob me of. My bed fit my life so there was hardly any use for complaining about it.

I debated to myself whether to open the book at all. I finally opened it but only because my parents taught me the annoying fact that “it’s the thought that counts.”

I skipped past the introduction and started on the “January” page. It only stated a scripture summary referencing Psalm 119:105 NLT.

“Oh darn, and I don’t have a bible to look that up” I said allowed jokingly. But then I saw another book on my end table I didn’t put there. Sure enough! It was a bible.

“You thought of everything didn’t you Jesse?” I offered while rolling my eyes.

I read the first four devotions; January 1st – January 4th.

Lesson 1: Do not dwell on the past. “Right, like I would do that.”
Lesson 2: I am your joy! “Which is why I am so happy, right?”
Lesson 3: Be still, and know that I am God. “I have always moved a lot I guess.”
Lesson 4: Find joy in Me, for I am your strength.

Each day (or lesson) had a summary of the author’s thoughts based on scriptures listed on the bottom of each page. I read four pages and looked up the scriptures on each page. Already I had done more than I committed to, so he can’t be angry, right?

My parents tried to teach me God is real, but my beliefs never matched theirs, so the teachings ended there. I appreciated Jesse caring about me enough to try to share something good with me. I suddenly realized how much that meant to me. He was a good friend with a good heart.

I noticed I felt a comfort inside of me that I had not felt in many years. I think it was because Jesse made me feel not so alone. I quickly opened the book back up to see the lesson for tomorrow.
Lesson 5: Let my consolation – my comfort – bring Joy to your soul.

“Okay Jesse. I will read for another day or two.”

The Little Things

squirrel

I took a few days off from work. It was forced really. Leadership made the announcement that we had to have our PTO time down to 40 hours or less by April 1st, and any time over 40 hours would be forfeited. Well, I am not giving anything back I have earned, so 220 hours have to be taken between now and then.

I had a good week. I just took it off. I didn’t go anywhere. I didn’t give myself any projects. I did some painting on a ceramic house, wrote my story for The Weekly Knob last week, and just relaxed. I cannot think of a time in my adult life I have done this, but my brain feels wonderful having the break.

Today is my last day off until the week of Thanksgiving. I am taking that week too. Tee Hee. Unfortunately I am feeling a little under the weather today. My sinuses are painful, but I hope my body fights off whatever is trying to attack me.

Sitting around at home I decided to put some nuts out in our tree planter outside. They were unsalted peanuts that needed to be used. Well… the picture is my bright spot of the day. Within minutes a mother squirrel was in the planter and eating the nuts. I know she was hungry because she was eating them all, and I didn’t see her bury anything for later. I know she is a mom because her nipples were all very swollen and protruding notably.

Watching her warmed my heart. It felt good to be part of something needed by an animal that was not mine to take care of. I do not think you should make a habit of feeding the wild, but anytime you can find a way to not waste food, I think feeding it to someone or something that needs it is smarter than nothing at all.

If you can – take a break! A real break! Not a trip that requires planning and stress. Not a new project that you didn’t have time to do before. I mean a real brain break. The only stressful thing I did was watch the Bronco game last night. What an ass kicking!! Anyway, my mind feels years younger! Until I go back to work tomorrow anyway.

 

Windmill Parable

Windmills

Two men suffer accidents on the same day, but separate places and times. Both are hospitalized with doctors advising family members they are in critical condition. Both men have limited chance for survival.

Michael is a white male who has lived 43 years. Will is a black male who has lived 39 years. Both men suffer prejudice against each other’s race. Both men are spreading their feelings about black people and white people to their children and friends. Both men suffer the same hatred in their hearts.

With their bodies deteriorating their souls travel to Heaven. Both men walk upon a field of windmills planted throughout the grass. Both men finally see each other and are both angered and confused. Before a word could be spoke by either man the voice of God rang out with authority.

“Michael. William. Welcome to your first glimpse of Heaven. You must silence your thoughts to process the view. I ask you do that now.”

“Why are we here? This is not what I expected Heaven to be like.” Michael offered with utter confusion.

“And why is there only two of us? I thought Heaven was full with people’s souls.” William added while equally confused.

“All good questions to which you must find the answers. I have a task for the two of you. You have limited time to complete it or your soul will be unable to connect back to your mortal body. You must open your mind and ears to my instruction to be successful. Are you ready?”

Both men nodded and were ready for the task.

“Michael. William. What do you see?”

“A field with windmills.” William offered with Michael nodding in agreement.

“Very good. Now you must look deeper. What is the same about the windmills? Because time is short I will give you two answers that are not correct. It is not that they are windmills, and it is not that they are different colors and patterns. It is not that they are all alike by being different.”

Both men stared at the windmills trying to figure out what God was looking for. Both traveled from windmill to windmill looking for the answer while staying in the opposite direction of each other. Finally, William started to notice something that was kind of the same, but because not exactly the same, he avoided speaking out.

“William – I can hear your thoughts without you speaking them. Please share so that Michael has the benefit also.” God said while breaking the silence of their concentration.

“Well – it isn’t the same amount, or the same shape, or in the same place, but… Each windmill has a trace of gold within its colors. Some have more than others.” William offered with highlighted uncertainty that he was right.

“I noticed that too, but I am not sure what it means.” Michael said.

“It only took you an hour to speak, but you both had the idea 52 minutes ago. All that wasted time because you failed to work together on the answer. What a foolish way to spend your time when I told you your time was limited. Don’t make that mistake again!” God offered.

Both men shook with fear because the voice of God was so unfriendly.

“Now, what does the gold mean?” God asked.

Both men stared silent and confused.

“Well!! TALK AND FIGURE IT OUT!” God’s frustration thundered throughout the Heavens.

“I think the gold means that they are worth a lot of money.” William offered.

“Do you really think Heaven cares about financial worth!?” Michael retorted in response to William’s foolish idea.

“Wasting valuable time, fools! I will give you a hint. The windmills represents and are powered by the souls of your family and friends. The very people by your bedside waiting for you to wake up!”

“Okay. Okay. Why is one pure yellow and gold, and the others with less gold and varying colors?” Michael asked.

“Maybe the gold represents life and the different colors and textures are their experiences.” William offered in response.

“The yellow and gold windmill is the soul of your unborn child, William.” God offered to help guide their thinking.

“Okay, so maybe the yellow and gold represent purity, but then why would there be so little in everyone else? There is more than one child in this field.” Michael responded.

“Maybe the gold is their value?” William offered.

“You are getting close!” God offered.

“Okay. So what is the same is that each windmill has value.” Michael offered as the answer.

“Correct! So what does that mean if these are powered by the souls of your family?”

“They all have value.” William offered with some sarcasm because now they were just repeating themselves.

“Correct William. You are both correct. Now you must answer this next question for your soul to return home…” God said while allowing their minds to ready for the next task.

“Okay.” They said in unison. “What is it?”

“If you were on the same field with your family and friends at the same time as the other man’s family and friends… would you see the gold then?”

Both men dropped to the ground from the question because they both knew the answer was NO.

“Don’t be the fool leading other fools another day. Be the leader showing other people the gold.”

Both men woke in their hospital beds at the same time. While both had the lesson burning inside of their souls – their minds lacked the memory of where it came from. Both men promised to change in light of the second chance.

In Heaven, God’s angel, John, had thoughts to share from the experience.

“If only we could change the way Democrats and Republicans see each other.” John said.

“I tried that once. Bush and Clinton excepted their differences and became friends, but their fellow fools could not learn from their example. So I decided to work my magic on a cause with more promise, and I hope these men do not disappoint me.” God replied.

“So do I.” John replied.

Addicted to Pain

I have been successful for the last 10 days, 11 hours and 13 minutes. I have found the secret to slowing time down, and it is counting the minutes of your success daily. I am noticing sounds my mind learned to ignore. I have never noticed the clicking noise my clock in the living room makes as it meticulously counts every second of my minute achievements. I now know how often my fridge runs, and how often my neighbor leaves in his car that sounds like it praying for death. I catch all the sounds now – the sounds of my success from my demented sobriety.

I fear sleep. I fear the inability to consciously count minutes that add to my current streak. I am now a professional at braiding my long auburn hair, which is annoying because fewer minutes escape the clock now, and I have to fill the time with additional tasks. This is all so maddening to me. While other people pray for time to slow down – my knees ache from praying for time to speed up. The irony is I am almost out of time. I will strike again.

I am addicted but to something far more damaging than heroine or alcohol. People who think marijuana is harmless – Good For You! I am addicted to pain. I enjoy watching other people feel torturous pain. I comb ads, bars and websites carefully to cull the good men from the bad. I prefer men who expect me to throw myself on my back, legs spread high in the air, in anticipation of the exaggerated girth between their legs. I resent men who are so ignorant from ego that they lump me into the same pool the slut before me convinced them was real. The look on their face when I bring them home, and they understand my true intention is priceless. I am addicted to watching their minds fry like an egg in a hot frying pan, and their eyes tear from the sight of the experience and the realization they will not get laid tonight. Just thinking about it ignites my puerile behavior and my need to do it again.

Tom is a lawyer I zeroed in on when using Match.com. He clearly believes his profession is a gift to women, and he advertises his wealth standing in front of his new mustang in his profile picture. He chose the color white for his car – clearly not a dare devil.

After an expensive meal and two glasses of Dom Perignon for dessert, I invited him to my place to enjoy one of my favorite things. He was eager to accept the invite – after all my hands played carefully with his inner thighs throughout our meal. I have a feeling this experience will be better than Sebastian the doctor two weeks prior. That was fun!

We walked inside my townhouse and I offered him to get comfortable in the living room on my large black leather couch. He complimented the stone wall and fireplace on the adjacent wall while I fetched him a beer like a good host.

“Would you like to watch a movie?” I asked softly while cuddling into him on the couch.

“Absolutely!” He replied while his legs twitched in anticipation and his arm stiffening to avoid the urge to grab and adjust.

I started the movie and it only took three minutes for the collision of reality and horror to rest on his face. I find it amusing that three minutes is all it takes for all of my victims. Of course the experience never gets old for me.

Who lives in a pineapple under the sea? Spongebob Squarepants!

I begin wiggling with excitement and anticipation like a giddy school girl as the song plays to begin the movie.

After five minutes their dry mouth, caused by the inability to close their mouth while reeling from the shock, manages to force the same question no matter the guy…

“Is… Is this some kind of joke?” Tom sputtered forcefully.

“What? No! I told you at dinner that I wanted to share my favorite thing with you! Do you not like it?”

And that, ladies, is how you get a rich man to buy you a nice meal and expect nothing in return!

Freezing Fantasy

I don’t know why I did it, but the goal wasn’t to hurt anyone. It was a moment that deserved thinking beyond myself but I ignored it. I ignored everything that should have mattered.

My frustration had been building for months. I was lonely, empty, and on fire with a desire to feel alive again. I have spent months sleeping in a bed that is cold even when it is warm. The covers and sheets feel dirty even when fresh out of the wash. The silence in the house might as well be as loud as a train and I had no control to stop any of it. I had no power to silence it. I had nothing to fill it.
I wondered into the wet, fall night with no plan or destination. The streets were cold and shinny from a rain trying desperately to freeze. The few people out were loud only because of chattering teeth and the zipping of coats. The streets felt as lonely as my home and the air equally brisk.
I walked into a coffee shop because I knew a bar would bring trouble for me tonight, Imagine my surprise when I realized a bar would have been the smarter choice. Java Coast was a small cafe 10 miles away from my home. I ordered a white hot chocolate to warm my hands and insides without waking them up at this late hour. Within three minutes my treat was ready, and as I turned to find a seat  I saw him. His eyes were piercing brown, his skin olive and polished, while his hair lavished a rich brown sheen though disheveled in style. He was watching me, and when I returned the stare, the right side of his mouth raised slightly as though to inadvertently expose his thoughts. He didn’t say a word. He just stared. Startled – I hurried past him and grabbed a table and chair in the back while half wishing I was drinking Sex on the Beach in a bar instead.
Within minutes he stood up and avoided looking in my direction. He was taking control of our encounter even though it lacked anything to control. I watched him and wondered what he was thinking, but he wasn’t going to give me anything to know. Instead he reached the door, opened his umbrella and left. I felt disappointed and terrified at the same time. What was I thinking?
Quickly I finished my hot chocolate and got up to leave only to notice him again while looking out the door to leave. He was leaning against my car and staring into the cafe – waiting for me. His breath was white against the chilled air, his face was relaxed as though to advertise patience, and his eyes were fixed on me.
Walking out I stopped about five feet away from him. It took all my energy to finally speak.
“What do you want? I am married, have children,,, Please…”
Without the ability to finish my thought he moved toward me. I felt as though someone was holding their hand against my mouth without anyone actually touching me, What was happening?
He stopped right in front of me, lifted his hands to my face to  gently grasp my jaw line, and waited for my reaction calmly. I felt paralyzed. I couldn’t move. The rain was now a light snow and the jagged flakes began to coat my eyelashes as I stood there – frozen.
Finally he leaned in and kissed me. His lips were firm and purposeful. His hands were gentle but strong and in control. My body melted without moving and my need to control the moment evaporated,
“Why?” I finally whispered.
But his mouth remained mute and his eyes did all the talking. Finally he smiled and turned to leave, but I knew what he was thinking, He would be back here tomorrow.
My reality was caught in a whirlwind, and somehow this man, this stranger, knew he would get away with taking a small piece of what he wanted without asking. I didn’t know how to feel or what I felt, and I suppose that reality is as terrifying as planning this without any fear of the consequence.

Slacker and Steve gets me!

I have a morbid sense of humor. I admit it freely. You falling on your face is hilarious to me – so long as you are okay. My sensitivity is often in the negatives, and my family is quick to make sure I know that often. Really I am just trying not take things too seriously. I try not to take myself too seriously – for sanity’s sake!

Take the time to laugh at things – so long as it doesn’t hurt anybody. We don’t have enough laughter anymore and it is showing on people’s faces. Relax! Quit looking for reasons to be pissed off and offended all the time. Life is too short to spend it that way.

In the meantime I would like to thank Slacker and Steve for making my morning by making me laugh right away today. It may be wrong… but it is still funny!!IMG_2655

Princess Feeling

Opening the doors I was taken by the elegance of the room. The floor had a mahogany tone, and a gloss finish that mirrored the bottom reflection of each person on the floor. The walls were laced with oak wood, a few mirrors, and ivory wallpaper decorated by a gold trim. Two hundred guests filled the room and all came dressed to impress. Fancy gowns and suits added to the importance of the occasion. Ladies were decorated in gowns of various color, but all extended fully to the floor. Only a few gowns included sleeves, and a few others offered covering for the shoulders. Most of the women’s dresses were without straps, and their necks elongated by hairdo’s tucked up and tight on their heads. The men were dressed similar, but they too found ways to set themselves apart.
All men wore traditional tuxes that were black or dark grey in color. The shirts were white with some offering a silky sheen to them. Most wore a traditional bow tie, but a few flattered their attire with vests and a traditional tie tucked beneath.  The jackets either stopped at the hip, or rested short at the waist with a tail split and long down the backs of their legs. The pants were solid in color, but a few were fancied with a 2 inch strip down the outer leg of a shinier fabric of the same color. All men wore their hair styled and locked in place, and they complimented their dates nicely.
Some guests danced while other guests visited peacefully at the tables that lined the left and right sides of the room. The amber lighting brought the ambiance of the room to life, and it was breathtaking. After soaking in the atmosphere I turned to leave. I didn’t belong here. My departure was interrupted by an arm lining my lower back and a hand clutching my right hip. Just as my lips moved to speak he swung in-front of me, and put a white-gloved finger over my lips to keep me silenced. His bright blue eyes sparkled as he smiled at me slightly. His dark hair and olive skin were seducing me without effort. Who was he? What did he want? As the questions swirled in my mind he lowered his finger and gently reached for my hand. Without permission he lead me to the dance floor, and suddenly I was swallowed in the slow waltz moving the crowd. The danced seemed to last forever, but as the tune changed, he departed my presence and disappeared within the crowd.

I smiled gently as the experience made me feel more feminine than I had ever felt before. Suddenly I understood the princess feeling, but felt my midnight ending came much too fast. As I exited the floor I went back to the doors to once again leave the room – only to feel disappointed when there was no arm to take me back in.

Sugar is my drug of choice

I was a pretty responsible teenager. I didn’t experiment with drugs, I only got drunk twice, and the only time I went to court was traffic court. I didn’t change in my adult years. My need to control everything around me made it easy to stay away from drugs and not get hooked on alcohol or cigarettes. Look at me!! Addiction free! Or so I thought.

Sugar and caffeine are my drugs of choice. I have struggled with my waistline most of my life because of my sugar addiction. BUT I didn’t know it was an addiction. Not until I read an article in TIME magazine about sugar’s effect on the brain, and you know what?? It made sense!
I have had moments (many) when I would shake for sugar, and I obsess about when I will get my sugary treat of choice. I never thought of it as an addiction. Just simply wanting something I wanted. Well age is mean, and time is not kind, if you waste it not learning. In came my thirties, and my body finally said to me “Okay, I have tried to talk to you. I have tried to warn you. I have stayed fat for a reason. Exercise didn’t drop the pounds for a reason. But you just won’t learn, so it is time for something drastic!” And drastic is was. 
I bent down to grab my dog’s water bowl to fill it with water, and when I went to stand up I felt like someone stabbed a knife deep into my tailbone. It was the most painful thing I had ever experienced, and it took doctors, drugs and many days to feel better. Add that to the fact my knees had felt like they were on fire anytime I sat with my knees bent for any amount of time for years. Going to the movies required getting there early so that I could get the seats with the bar located in front so that I would have a way to stretch out my knees. Yep! And it was all the weight doing it to me. 
My back went out three times in that one year, and it was time to make a real change. So, I changed my diet. I didn’t follow the Atkins or any other fad diets. Those do not work in the long term. Nope. I counted my calories, watched what I ate, and most importantly, drastically reduced my sugar intake. Now, I didn’t cut sugar out all together, and I didn’t enjoy a cheat day either. Nope, I had my sugar planned everyday. And I made sure I didn’t have a bag near by to have more than I had planned. Guess what?? After about 6 weeks the pounds just started melting away, and I came up with a way of life I could live with. This is all without exercise! I am choosing to tackle one habit at a time.
I haven’t been perfect. If I start enjoying Oreo’s and milk before bed, or eat ice cream more than once, the drug habit kicks back in. Studies are showing that sugar effects the brain in a similar way to drugs. Obese people’s receptors react different to sugar than someone who may be a normal weight and not addicted to sugar. Sugar can reduce your brain function and limit your memory. Maybe that is I have a blonde brain?? Sugar!! Yep – lets go with that!
Don’t take my word for it. Google “Sugar’s effect on the brain” and you will find articles from TIME, The Huffington Post and more for information published in the last year. Now… lets not go to the extreme and say sugar is only bad and candy is the devil like Michelle. Instead, just like with anything else, learn the habit of moderation, and listen to your body before it gets pissed!