BarbsTalkingNow

2010-09-12T18:52:00.006-04:00

Current works/publications may be viewed at another location:
http://www.gigglinginthedark.blogspot.com/

WPS

2010-08-23T20:37:00.001-04:00

Better late than never.
Sorry guys. I'm still stumbling a bit.
I confess I hit it hard today; just trying to work some of this off. I went until I was exhausted and pushed some more. I thought I would puke but I just needed to break through. I think I will regret this tomorrow.
So today? We will have a double.
Warriors? I take your hands gladly. Let's do this.

Hooyah.

Taio Cruz feat. Ludacris - Break Your Heart (New Single 2010)

2010-08-23T20:35:00.000-04:00

Ne-Yo - Closer

2010-08-23T20:34:00.000-04:00

2010-08-19T23:02:00.000-04:00

Thank you all for your kind words. I have drawn a lot of strength from you this week. I am truly weary and will be home soon. I don't feel much like writing, so it will take me a few days to get back to normal~ such a relative term.

I miss you.
Better days my friends.

2010-08-15T12:29:00.001-04:00

If the race is over

What do I do if I'm not chasing anything?
What do I do if I have everything that I need?
It's a question that no one has prepared me to answer.
Where do I go if I'm right where I'm supposed to be?
Where do I go if wherever I am, I am home?
It's a question I'm presently wanting to answer.
If the usual way doesn't work for me now
That's a void I know nothing about.

What if the race is over and we all automatically win?
What if the game is ended long before it even begins?
What if the test has been taken
and we're passing again and again?
If the race is over, what then?
What do I say if it's all perfect anyway?
What do I say if I'm not here to change anyone?
It's a question I truly don't know how to answer.
How do I live if my life is eternity?
How do I live if I am no longer afraid to die?
It's a mystery, no one can give me the answer.
If the usual way doesn't work anymore
There's no map for what life has in store.

What if the race is over and we all automatically win?
What if the game is ended before it even begins ?
What if the test has been taken
And we're passing again and again?

If the race is over, what then?

-Daniel Nahmod

2010-08-13T15:53:00.000-04:00

Because of a very personal and private tragedy, I will be away until next week. Thank you for your prayers, tears and friendship. Times like these we need them most.

I look forward to happier times shared with all of you.
Love you.
Miss your Faces.
Tess

WPS

2010-08-09T04:55:00.001-04:00

Drums. I love drums....and drummers....and bass ( but not as much as drums) I guess it comes from all those years parked with the band in the bleachers. Mmmm thumping. I love it. This is a great one. I move a LOT for this, usually end up prancing around and dancing...ha. I get carried away. You'll enjoy watching them more than me. {Unless it's a giggle point thing...; ) }

All right Warriors. We are in August. Tick Tock. Hoo. Yah.

Soooo you think I'll trip in the fire pit or fall down the rope?
Stupid hat.

Have a great Monday. This is my first day back. Let's hope it's as fun as this song.

Destiny's Child - Lose My Breath

2010-08-09T04:50:00.002-04:00

You Suck

2010-08-07T08:27:00.001-04:00

When I went off to college, setting up my first "house", my folks bought a vacuum cleaner for me. It wasn't expensive but it worked. It worked hard for twelve years and then went to vacuum Heaven where pet hair comes up easily and paper clips or rubber bands do not cause loud clunking or that burning smell. It's nice for them, poor tired old vacuums.

This meant I had to buy a new one. Well, there are plenty of em out there: bagless, canisters, one has a ball instead of fixed wheels...oooOOOooo....It's a vacuum. Clean my rug and don't eat my drapes. I spent a little extra and got one with all SORTS of tools and hoses and "stuff". Five years down the line? That nasty lil muthuh won't pick up a THING. What's worse? There's a clog. I KNOW it and I can't get to it; it's physically impossible. I've taken it apart and the ONE spot that I can't reach is packed up with miscellaneous what not from under my furniture (I'm guessing cereal and Winston..he's been awfully quiet lately). I've used other vacuums, coat hangers..you name it. "Old Red" has become quite a bitch in her middle age. She will stop working; just simply shut off. And when I punish her by putting her in the garage (faking like I'm going to throw her away) she changes her mind and works again. We have a hate/contempt relationship. Twice a week I tell her I'll be glad when she's dead. I hate her so much I fantasize about dragging her revving and whining to the back of the yard, hoisting her over my head and swinging her in a circle against some trees...JUST to hear the little bits crack. Trite? Perhaps. But I like it.

I bought a new one for Promises. SHE works great (she's even pink...PINK). Cheech wanted me to switch them but I refused. I would NOT share my beautiful Promises with that suckless wench. No way. So I went back to my vacuum voodoo even building a Leggo model and snapping pieces off in the hopes that she would break.

I would like to thank my parents for getting the job done. While they were here, they decided to help out and vacuum. Well, Lil Miss Priss didn't enjoy being handled by strangers and conked out. My father the engineer decided to fix her with emergency "attitude adjusting" surgery. She retaliated by committing suicide. she burned out. I walked in from work and smelled that chalky, hot "appliance" death smell and rejoiced. Tears of satisfaction streaming down my grinning cheeks as I cried out:

"Ding Dong The Witch is Dead! The Vacuum Witch! An EVIL Witch~ DING DONG The Wicked Witch is DEAAAAAAD!"

I quickly skipped to the store and began to browse. I looked at the expensive ones, but I'd had one of those experiences; not memorable or pleasant. Then tucked away was a skinny Charlie Brown vacuum. It was light weight with no bag and only a couple of bobbles/attachments. But it winked at me (maybe the headlight fuse was bad). It was the same brand as my new girl up north. He was on sale.

"Come on Big Daddy. Let's go home." and we did.
A couple of screws and some German pictographs (I only know that because I recognized the word "Nein") and I had a new outlook on home maintenance. I named him Magnus...and he did NOT disappoint. I believe he could pull the drapes down...from next door.

My girlfriend called.
"Are you vacuuming AGAIN? Stop. You need help."
"I like it. It makes me happy. You should see what kind of mess that witch left behind! I'm going to do the windowsills, I'm glad she's gone. I hated her."
She laughed at me. "Your vacuum...." she drawled. I suppose I've earned it.
So I put Magnus away and patted his nubby head.
"You suck." I smiled.

Skewed? Yes. But I hope you enjoyed it all the same. Thanks for coming over. Let's do it again soon.

Coffee

2010-08-04T04:00:00.008-04:00

COFFEE

“ I really had fun. Thank you. ” She said swinging their intertwined hands .

He grinned at the sidewalk and loosened his grip. He wanted to see if she would grab on. She did not. He stole a glance at her gentle face. She was just walking with him; not over- zealous, not giddy, just a soft pretty face. She matched his pace and gently held his hand. He wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. They drove home comfortably but quietly. She laid her hand lazily atop of his on the gearshift. His thumb slowly traced the length of her pinkie. She sighed. He remembered how easy it was with her; to feel good. Pulling to the front of the house Laura clicked the alarm watching the lights come on. Gavin got out and walked briskly around to get the door for her. He smiled as her tan legs peeped out and gingerly lead the way for the rest of her curvy frame. The red dress she’d worn snuck up just above her knee. His eyes glanced appreciatively. He’d forgotten how lovely she was.

“Thank you again.” She smiled, encircling his arm, and leading him to the door. “Gavin, I had a great night. It was so good to see you. I’ve missed you.” Her happiness faded just a little. She dropped her hand from his arm.

There was a tug of sadness. He’d missed her too. He’d seen her on the street, even called and hung up, afraid to speak, uncertain of the words. He had been content reading her work and watching from the sidelines until he simply done it. He’d spoken to her. She’d not treated him badly. He was surprised; all things considered. He wasn’t sure that they could even be in the same room, but she’d been happy to hear from him; been sweet and nice. He found his pulse had quickened when they decided to have dinner. He got ready with extra care, remembering her favorite shirt. He was almost nervous.

“Do you want some coffee?” She stepped away, heading for the kitchen.

“Oh no. Don’t put yourself out.” He tossed lightly as she pulled his favorite cordial, pouring it for him. “You remember?” He was surprised.

“Of course I do.” She chuffed, wrinkling her nose.

Handing him the glass, she hoped he didn’t notice her tremble. He had her favorite shirt on. He was so handsome, he took her breath away. Her heart fluttered around in her chest like a frightened bird. Her legs shook and when she swallowed, her throat was tight; scratchy. He took her hand, leaning in as he accepted his drink. He barely kissed her, his lips gently brushing against her mouth. It took her off guard but she did not pull away.

She closed her eyes enjoying the softness of his touch and the fire igniting in her body. She permitted him to kiss her again and again; brief, gentle, searching; until she felt his arm slip around her waist, pulling her to him. His fingertips skimmed along her bare spine as he hunted for the zipper to the backless dress, his breath and voice tickling the hollow of her shoulder. She thought she would melt. Her entire body seemed to spark with desire, blood sizzling through her veins. She could barely think.

In turn, her hands sauntered along his arms and she cradled his face gazing at him. She kissed the tip of his nose, his chin. He shivered as she whispered softly to him, asking him to put his drink down.

“I don’t think we need that right now.”

“I don’t want it.”

She giggled, leaining in to him. His touch became hungry, nibbling at the curves of her body, pulling at her hem. He couldn’t feel enough of her skin.

“Would you like to walk or ride?” He asked gently.

She paused, looking at him curiously. He flushed with embarrassment, wondering if he had been a presumptuous ass for rushing her, but she turned and grinned.

“I’ll walk” she said quietly and took his hand.

He was surprised by the new colors and furniture in her room. He stood for a moment, taking it all in. Could they do this? Was this a good idea? Their lives were so different, far apart it seemed, but he simply was unable to forget her. He kissed her again, not so delicately this time.

She responded warmly, reaching up to unbutton his shirt. Her mouth playfully brushed his chest, kissing each bit of newly exposed flesh. Her curious hands marveled and appreciated his body. It was smooth, firm; it felt wonderful. Her kisses became eager. She began to quiver with anticipation.

Gavin slowly laid her back on the bed. He stretched out next to her, continuing to tease her body with “almost kisses” and wisping brushes of his hands along her form. He traced the lines of her dress; feeling the goose bumps dash across her skin. He loved hearing her breath soft and shallow as she rose up to meet his touch but he kept his distance, waiting until he heard her say it. His own body was in overdrive. He ached to touch her, kiss her skin and feel the heat of her.

She rolled to face him, her eyes hungry and dark.

“Gavin. Please. I want you.” She whispered and as her mouth found his, she sighed.

His hands quickly addressed the zipper that stood between him and this precious woman. He slipped it from her body and let it drop to the floor. Her eyes flashed with self consciousness.

“How silly.” He thought as he trailed her ribs with his fingertip, watching her bite her lip. He sat up, leaned over her, his mouth and tongue slowly caressing her silky skin. She could feel the heat of his breath skimming across her hips. She purred his name; lost in the ecstasy of memory and now. He told her she was beautiful.

She needed him so much she ached. Opening her eyes, she was almost startled to see him watching her.

"Hey...no peeking!" she giggled, her body shaking with a craving she'd not felt in a long time. She returned his light touch and kiss, enjoying the sighs it drew from him. With her gentle hands and soft sweet mouth she told him she wanted him, that he was perfect. Playful, shyness gave way to heat and hunger. Her lips became more ambitious and quick, relishing the taste of his skin and when she could stand it no more, she pulled at his hips gasping as he moved inside her; her back arching, begging to feel all of him. Passion rambled through her body tickling her every nerve. He growled quietly as her nails scratched at his skin. She cried out, unable to wait anymore; their rhythm steady and their breath ragged. They exploded; bodies ravaged by desire, slick with sweat and ultimately satisfaction.

He watched her sleep for a while. He brushed her hair from her cheek as she snuggled against him breathing deeply, contentedly. What was left of the night folded around them like a quilt. They slept, remembering each other and how good they felt together.

Morning sun peeked through the shutters and woke her. She slowly, almost regretfully pulled away heading for the shower. He stirred, smelling her soap and feeling the steam from the bath. He was sad he’d missed it; another morning perhaps. He watched her as her robe fluttered open around her thighs while she absently tugged clothes to dress for the day. He sniffed and stretched, raising up on his elbow to see her better.
“Hi.” She smiled softly, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Hi.”
“Coffee?”
He slipped his hand around her leg and glided along just under the hem of her little robe.
“We tried that before and failed.” He grinned pulling her to him.
She giggled, feeling his desire for her in his arms and body. Her wet hair curtained their kiss from the nosy morning outside.
“Try, try again….” She laughed as he pulled her under the blankets.

...and I wish you a good morning.
:)

WPS

2010-08-02T05:35:00.001-04:00

Cookie Monster time! This one always makes me grit my teeth a little. It must be the gravelly voice and growling. Last week was tough. I hope that this week I'm less sore. Being up north, I'll have some tougher terrain. Cross your fingers that I'm wobble, hobble free. ;) Who ME? The queen of grace and elengance??

I wonder where I'll put the hat once I get it; on the mantle? I suppose Warriors, we could probably serve punch out of the damn thing! ewww no.

Hooyah!

Disturbed-Land of Confusion with lyrics

2010-08-02T05:30:00.002-04:00

WHO did it?

2010-08-01T14:21:00.002-04:00

Don't sweat the small stuff. It's all fun and games. Have a Coke and a smile...
All good "Relaaaax" quotes. Why don't you just do that, sit back and relaaaax.... Here's a story for ya:

We are making some really great friends up at the lake; the kind that come out to the road with a drink in their hand and a smile on their face...Oh yeah. Good stuff.

A couple of weekends ago, I was up north and Cheech couldn't come (until much later). My neighbors fixed supper, made drinks and had me over. Their grand kids were up so there was quite a gaggle of rambunctious tweens runnin around. Pour more electric lemonade slushies! Wee HOO! (remember my rule...) Anyway, the kids were horsin around and wanted to play with water balloons. It was hot out. Who DOESN'T want to play with water balloons? My neighbor disappeared and came back with an arsenal AND....a SLINGSHOT. YES!!!! Of course the kids TRIED to do it. They did okay, but my neighbors and I couldn't keep our fingers out of it. We started..ummm...helping. Yeah, helping.

The first one pirouetted up and over the rail. Plllbbbbt. dud.
The third one hit the edge of the yard. Eh. plllbttt. dud.
The ninth one? It went over the street and hit our tree. WOO! High fives all 'round *slap* good -job- good- job-good job! Then one tagged the roof and we all whooped like we'd won the March Madness Poole at work.
"SHUT THE FRONT DOOR! Gimme that! I'll show you far!!!" so my neighbor and I dragged the skipping monkeys down the porch and made the balloons a little smaller...like little bombs...or rockets.
The very first one sailed OVER the house. You want to talk about bragging? You know how I am about competing...this was war!
Did I mention it was hot out? hmmm Probably did.
Did I mention the windows were open? Probably not. I didn't think much of it. Until it was too late.

Of course it was Boo who lined up for the shot.
FUH-doooooooo! It sailed high through the air with a beautiful deadly arc and aim. There was a crash and we stood dumbfounded. We ALL looked ten years old with our mouths hanging open trying desperately to find somewhere to hide or locate someone to blame...because after all....Daddy wasn't home.

Immediately Boo began apologizing almost in tears. I dashed across the street as if I could somehow save the window. I crept in, trying to sneak up on it. Oh what a mess. It blew the double pained glass inside spewing jagged shardss all over the beds, the pillows, knocking the table over including the lamp. The window shade was completely undone and lay crippled on the carpet. There was water splashed all over the blankets and the floor. It appeared to have barely survived a mini tsunami. I was astounded. My neighbor was right behind me with his duct tape, wood, shop vac and a broom. We were furiously cleaning when the phone rang.

BOM-bom-booooom....

"It's Cheech." I whispered shaking the phone at him.

"Oh no." he whispered back.

"What do we do?" my throat was dry. I was going to get grounded.

"Want me to tell him?"

"noooo no. I gotta do it."

So I spilled the whole story. There was silence.

"Wait til I get there." he said flatly.

My neighbor and I giggled and finished up. It just kept getting funnier. He was really busting my hump pretty hard about being grounded. My husband pulled up. My neighbor stood strong...running away in the night and standing on his deck with a drink in his hand while doing what I do best: Giggling and Pointing. The kids were waiting by the scene of the crime. We all had schmutzes of s'mores somewhere on our guilty faces.

"These things happen. I understand" he said authoritatively. "I want the truth. Who did it."
We all pointed at Ben. I snorted.
"Are you NUTS?" he shouted. "SHE held the stupid sling shot and took AIM! Ohhhh NO! I am NOT goin down for this alone!" he wailed wagging his trigger finger in his mother's direction. He turned on his heel and went to bed.

Cheech stared at me. "You?"
I toed the rug. "Yeah. Me."

"YEAH! HER!" Ben hollered from behind a closed door. I could hear him scowling.

I snorted again.
We pulled the window and replaced the glass. All better.

My neighbors bought some more water balloons.

Round two will be better. We'll make Cheech be the slingshot man.

Have a great day! Thanks for visiting. I'm glad you stopped by.

2010-07-30T07:59:00.001-04:00

Hey Y'all
I'm headin up to Promises for a Yaya function that is going to last..mmmm....a week.
This warrior is struggling with her "no alcohol until after the race" rule. The weather is supposed to be grand, the company couldn't be better and I don't know if I could need this more; although I will be missing some folks.... I hope to have some hammock time and get some writing done. I'm behind schedule and quite frankly have been struggling more than usual. Stress happens. I'll at least have some float time on the water. Life is good.
My hope is to see you Sunday. Miss you my friends.

Enjoy the weekend.

I pod You touch

2010-07-29T10:00:00.003-04:00

These past two weeks have been filled with technological breakthroughs for me. I know, it's hard for me to change; but I did it. My husband's bday gift was an iPhone4. His thank you was a second one for me. So my sleek little toy arrived and I looked at it with dismay.

Does anyone remember when I got my Curve? Or my iPod? I'll refresh your memory. For each, I spent about five days crying and making up swear words. I couldn't sign-in, couldn't get my files and my music?? Well I have become an EXPERT on downloading since I've erased my playlists, purchases and library no fewer than three times. (Each incident accompanied by a litany of "Fire trucks" ) And let's not forget I had to learn that the little button at the top of my Curve was for putting it to sleep so my lipstick would stop pranking people from my purse. (My partner loved that...."All I can hear is your laugh...." Whew! I'm lucky there.)

All right back to my NEW toy. I plugged it in and registered it. I got to use my existing account. This is no big deal for most, of course; but it is for me because it worked and it was easy. THEN? Do you want to hear the cool part? I know you do. I set up the phone's iPod; SEPARATELY from my first one and DIDN'T erase a note. I went to the app store and got some. Yes indeed I did. Not one tear. Not one f-bomb or even a dammit. In fact, I believe I have my lil phone intimidated. When I push and click certain buttons (to close or move apps) the icons shake and quiver and begin to warble and beg:
"Not me!"
"Don't shut ME out! I didn't do it..."
" It's the Web browser!....when you're not looking...it drains your battery.."
"YEAH THE WEB BROWSER!"
"Not me! NOT MEEEEE"

heehee It makes me a powerful giant in that tiny icon world. It doesn't take much. I'm a simple woman.
I even got to show Cheech a thing or two (which when you consider his techie side, it IS a Miracle as Barry Manilow puts it)

On top of that, my son worked to pay for his half of an iTouch so THAT came home this weekend. GUESS just GUESS who he went to for help? With something electronic? You got it...The Fabulous Contessa. Can you see me beaming? My teeth are dry. So the two of us are beeping all over the house. We compete in our games and send each other smack talk. We trade songs and I am LOVIN this new little toy of mine.

But when my guilt kicks in, I wander downstairs and apologize to my bb. No one likes to be cast aside so carelessly. Maybe Bunny can have it.

Really that's all I wanted to say. I love my husband's bday gift.
We'll chat soon. Have a good one!

WPS

2010-07-26T04:45:00.002-04:00

All righty then. I confess, this weekend was insanely busy and I barely had time to turn around. I had a lot of fun (in spite of a few mishaps) and am going to slow it down today. Weights and climbing today; steady rhythm. I've hit the last phase of my training and since I only have until the ninth of Ocober, I will hit it hard. No more horsin around. It's focus time and as we all know, it's about the damn hat.

This warrior means business. (Even though I'm sitting here thumping my head to the side...Nite at the Roxbury...Gotta love it)

HooYAH!

Haddaway - What Is Love HQ Lyrics 90s

2010-07-26T04:40:00.002-04:00

A special day

2010-07-25T21:03:00.002-04:00

Today?

My son, my baby turned ten.

His day was filled with fun and laughter. He received his ultimate gift. He's worked hard for it, earning the money to buy half of it. His birthday breakfast (though not in bed as is tradition) was gooey sweet and yummy. He played all day, enjoyed his cousins and had his father's chicken parm for supper. He's absolutely exhausted and as I watch him, he's almost asleep at the counter brushing his teeth. But he's one happy ten year old.

I see him turning in to such a great young man; growing up with a disarming smile and warm infectious laugh. I love his sense of humor and quick wit; unfortunately having been snookered by it more than once. He teaches me things...his conversations are more about history, math and science experiments he's conducted in the basement rather than the blue truck or Sesame Street. He shows me tricks on my new phone and how to beat the games on the computer which makes me feel a wee bit outdated; a tad less uselful? He has taste in music (which I usually like), opinions (that I enjoy hearing), and, selfishly, that makes me sad.

But then, I still have to pick up his socks that he tucks in the couch so he doesn't have to put them away. I still have to remind him to brush his teeth or to even shower. There are days I make a clean spot on his face to make sure he's mine! I catch him in fibs:
"Did you eat all the cookies after I said no?"
...no.
"Did you leave the milk out?"

NO! Maddie did. ~he says with conviction and a chocolate smudge on his chin.

He can't remember to turn his clothes right side out and he struggles to understand why his sister, who has been his best friend and confidant since day one, won't play with him anymore. He sometimes asks more questions than I have answers. There are days when I get tired and frustrated.

Today, my heart felt pinched and a little heavy in spite of all the laughter and fun. Time flies whether we want it to or not. On his way up to bed, he kissed me goodnight, told me he loved me and had a great day, (Mom...he's too big for Mommy...*sigh*) hugging me so tightly I winced.

And later tonight, like every night, I'll go to his bed, draw that heart around his face and tell him I love him, realizing it's a little bit more than the day before.

Happy Birthday Boo.

Claybourne Rd

2010-07-21T20:07:00.001-04:00

She clutched the stump, begging for help. The sun turned shamefully away and ran behind the trees; not wanting to witness the rest. Its long fingers of light trailing behind with fleeting warmth, leaving her there alone. She heard her shirt tearing. At least, she hoped that's what it was. Pulpy bark crumbled in her fingers as she lie there drowning in the landscape and invading darkness.

The ringing crawled in to her head gradually. She felt as if it had been filled with smouldering cotton. Her eyes flew open, stabbing at the dense woods around her. They tried to focus, darting around. Was it a tree or was he looming over her still? At the thought of him, her body instantly recalled the battering, the pain, feeling soaked in warm, thick fear and wreaking of hot metal. She dragged herself in spite of the screeching pain in her chest and head. She fumbled over the stump realizing her shirt was still stuck to it pulling away from her body. Her breath seeped from her in solid pants as if her lungs were full of jagged stones. There was a whistle. She groped herself, marvelling at the leak in her body making this hissing noise. She coughed, convinced that what ever was left of her was rushing out. It was then she spotted the car sitting quietly; patiently waiting for her to tell it what to do. She moaned and pulled herself up. Flopping heavily into the seat she felt a dangerous sleep beckon to her. She wanted to go to it though; she thought it would be easier, quieter and less painful.

Suddenly a brilliant light slashed through the glass startling her. She snapped to attention, choking on her own spit and breath. If she could get their attention; their help, she might survive. Hope was not dead and neither was she. She cranked and prayed. The lights drew closer, then slowed, then went out; just like a birthday candle. Poof. She whimpered and cranked again.

"No-no-no-no" she sobbed with each stutter of the car. She held her breath until her temples pounded, her eyes gouging the night for signs of her rescuers. Faintly, there was the steady munching as tires softly sampled the deserted road. Were they searching for her? She could only hope. With trembling hands she tried once more, threatening the jalopy with a trip to the junkyard if it failed. There was obedience and the car roared for her. Her squeal was in shear joy and she jerked the hunk of metal into gear, mashing her bruised battered leg to the floor until there was no room left. The car jumped on to the road flashing and honking; screaming to be noticed and begging for help.

But they sped up. They moved away from her, taking the turns sharply, tires shouting back at her and spitting bits of dust and road. She tried desperately to keep up, pulling along side of them and screaming for her life, but again, they pulled away devouring the street and disappearing. A couple of times she thought she'd lost them, but they were just ahead, playing cat and mouse. Sometimes lights on...sometimes not. She pushed the car to the limit, determined to get out of this nightmare. The turn jumped in front of her. It was sharp. She missed. The cruel night swallowed her screams. There was nothing but panic and pain.

"This is bullshit." Ronnie said flatly
"Nobody really believes it."
"So why are we here?"
"Shhhh...listen"
The car grumbled to a stop. The cold night air waited for the punch line of the unfunny joke.
"Jason...c'mon man, nobody's...."
The lights popped out from nowhere, noiselessly flying up behind them.
"GO GO GO~" the brave boys screamed in falsettoed terror.

The ones in the back smacking the front seats almost climbing over the top. Jason mashed the gas but the tires stuttered, also frightened by the sudden arrival. They peeled out, clawing at the road, not quite beating it with the jerking, extravagant turns of the wheel. The renegade flew up on them; lights flashed, the horn honked as it tried to pull along side. Thank God their engine was a v-8 so they could pull away. The mystery car swerved and jerked. Was it trying to run them off the road? Only once did they see the driver. The scream that crawled from each them was bone chilling; jaggedly ripping through their throats. When enough space was between them, Jason pulled over and killed the lights, hoping they would simply pass him by but nobody came. Ronnie leaned out the window straining his ears and praying. Nothing. They thought the worst was over and they could go home.

She roared up on them hungrily, refusing to lose them now. Jason tried to put his foot through the floor to get away. He knew they were getting close to the turn. With tears in his eyes he locked the brakes and swerved. To ask them, they would swear that two wheels left the ground, but with all of them shouting and clutching at each, no one is really certain. Their hearts pounded ferociously inside the pale, frightened "little boy" shells.

The lights lunged for them and screamed angrily around the turn. It went wide and left the road, silently. Then the curtain of night slammed down on the whole show. There was simply black. Shaken, they crept home, refusing to speak of what they'd seen on Claybourne Road that night when they'd been brave young men too big to believe in ghost stories. Days later when the sun was high and proud, they drove it again. There were no marks aside from their own. There were no broken trees; there was no car, stuffed into the thick woods. Just a forgotten, mangled up stump at the start of what (at night) was a true nightmare for any traveller.

...She clutched the stump, begging for help...

Ahhhhh I guess what I found? A wonderful little stretch of road up near Promises with a bit of horror attached to it. Have I driven it yet? Nope.

Wanna ride???

PS. Thanks to my wonderful partner in crime who helped me along with this one by providing the image. Steve, you're wonderful. I appreciate it.

WPS

2010-07-19T05:15:00.003-04:00

Yes, I like this too. It has just enough grind and thump to get me going. His scratchy voice and good old Eddie "V". This week, it will do just fine.

I have to get back in to the groove; back to doubles.
Warriors stand tall.

HOOOOOYAH!

Ain't Talking 'Bout Love - Van Halen (/w Lyrics)

2010-07-19T05:10:00.001-04:00

Even Now

2010-07-18T22:35:00.003-04:00

Okay Pop quiz:
When are the two times I am impatient? Grocery store AND? Driving! ding ding ding

WELL, Let me share with you, my Lovies, a story: A story of a woman who was afraid to drive. A woman who added the digits on the speed limit sign then drove five miles BELOW that. A woman....who was in front of me on my way to Promises this weekend. Her little choking, belching Honda farted and squirted up and down the hills, crept around corners;travelling in its fastest gear; idle. Now, I'm no speed demon { really, I'm not...heehee It's the CAR} and I was well, anxious...so I sort of passed her. I did so with a tight lip and white knuckles but the relief, the exhilarhation was...almost sexy. But no wait, I felt shame....And
I can truly only sing it. I have chosen of my favorite songs of all time: Barry Manilow's Even Now. ( I have provided the song at the end so that you may sing along with me. We share so much after all, don't we?)

ahem:

Even nooooow
When there;s no one else in front.
when there's no one on the road except for me.

Even now, I think about you as I'm climbing up this hill
And I wonder what I'll do to-keep-you-froooom MEEEEE

Even now,
When I know it wasn't right
And I drive a faster speed than what you had

Even now I look back for you while in the middle of this slope
But at 20 in a 40....I can't COOOOPPPPPE

EVEN NOOOOOW
When I have come so farrrrrrr
I wonder where you arrrrrre
I wonder if your car's still burnin oiiiiiil

EEEEEEVEN NOOOOOOW
When it's-a-light I'm blowin thruuuuu
I swear I think of youuuuuu
and pray it's-a-left forrr YOUUUUUUU

EEEEE-ven noooooowwww

Barry Manilow Even Now

2010-07-18T22:00:00.002-04:00

Say anything

2010-07-16T16:46:00.001-04:00

I work very hard to keep lines of communication open for my kids. They can tell me anything. I do my best to save my reactions or at least postpone them. This is how well it works:

I conditioned myself with details of their days when they were wee tiny: leaves that they had collected, paste they had sampled or lunches that weren't top notch and had consequently become science experiments. Granted, there were times that I was humming songs in my head or making shopping lists but I listened. I laid the tracks.

When my daughter came home with a new boyfriend? the FIRST boyfriend? I held in the sadness inside. It was tight and lumpy, making the corners of my mouth turn down. But I forced it into neutral and I listened. We survived. She comes to me (fortunately?!) with the catty misfortunes that plague tweens. She asks me about boys and dating (AUGH!) and ...making out. Some of her girlfriends have done that. Some of them have talked to me. It gives me palpitations, but I weather the emotional storms...all of them.

My son came to me when he had solved a small bullying problem at school with equal force. I sat quietly and made sure the corners of my mouth were not turned up into the grand smile I felt burning through. I was proud that he had stood up for himself. But we discussed : time and place. He and this bully have become rather good friends. Hmm strange creatures; these boys, but I'm learning.

Today? Today I weathered my own storm. The kids ventured downstairs to paint. All of the paint I supply for the "art room" is water based. It simply makes sense. I don't know where the Atomic Craft Paint came from. I have no recollection of buying a paint that makes you sign in triplicate that you will use it in a wind tunnel in haz-mat suits (complete with personal ventilation systems). But it was there. And it called them; beckoned them to be used...a LOT. It apparently went famously until the end. Cleanup. Then in all its mischievousness, it kamikazied onto the carpet assaulting my favorite rug with an ugliness that would be sure to last generations. But remember my kids tell me everything. So they did the natural thing; covering it with the easel and racing for the stairs never to see the basement again. Maybe I should I explain: my kids tell me everything but not always with WORDS.

What mom wouldn't be suspicious of her two littlest angels slamming the basement door, throwing themselves against it and with WIDE eyes exclaim :

"We are all done and cleaned up. You don't even have to check. We wanted it to be easy for you. We love you Mommy" all in one exasperated breath and then smother me with affection. What part of that smells a little funny? hmmmmm Let me pick myself up off the ground: the turnip truck hit a bump....

I went down and smelled the fumes immediately. The easel has four skinny legs; the diameter of a dime each. The spot was the size of a robin. Yep. Believe it or not, this blond found it. I know, good job right?
I grabbed chemicals; all sorts of them. They failed. I pulled the last card in the deck and went into the garage for my heavy duty mistake erasing gloves. I donned a kerchief over my mouth and hauled down a small jet engine of a fan. CSI would have been pleased. (It was kind of one of those moments Pebs) For the record? You can NEVER smoke in my basement again. Nope not even on poker night. I passed the children who were turning pale. Too bad THAT wasn't the color of the paint. Then I would have been scott-free. Heck I'd have helped them put the easel over it.

For almost an hour I worked. My eyes burned. My lip was tickly and sweating. I reduced the damage to
a gentle shade of slate and returned to the top of the steps. The children were in their spots; waiting for the boom to be lowered. I sat down, rubbed the deepening wrinkle between my eyebrows (I didn't know that KIDS were the cause of that one..hmm no wonder Kate Gosselin had Botox...But I despise her so we'll move on)

"Guys?" my voice was tired and frayed.
"Mom!" Maddie began
"Yeah" Ben started in
"We KNOW better than to use any kind of bad paint like that. We would NEVER want to hurt your stuff. You work so hard...." her hands were moving quickly Ben was nodding at lightening speed. I turned around to see if the smoke they were trying to blow up my butt was damaging my curtains.
I drew a small circle on the table and cleared my throat. "Kids"
"MOM!" she tried again
"Mommy!" Ben wailed, he turned on the waterworks.
"We'll do dishes until we go back to school. AND laundry!"
Ben turned to his sister, his lower jaw crashing against the table top.
"She did it. I told her not to, but she said you'd never know." his finger pointed to his sister.

Yep. My kids tell me anything. Whoops! EVERYTHING!

Ahhhh good times. Let's have some wine and REALLY laugh over this, shall we? Don't be jealous. Just smile along. I know I've been away, but I appreciate you not giving up on me. This was fun. Come and visit again soon

2010-07-15T21:36:00.001-04:00

Ohhhh my LORD is it Friday yet???
This has been a whale of a week. I'm done. I'm spent. I'm leaving in the morning. Things are so busy and crazy for me, I haven't even had time to stop here. I've been struggling with some work and even more competition deadlines. I know, I'll get there. It just seems like the mountain is a little higher than I anticipated right now.

I apologize for the wallow. Thanks for listening. I will be right as rain before we know it. How about we take the weekend off?

You're so good to me.
:) Miss you.

WPS

2010-07-12T08:00:00.005-04:00

Well, we've not had any cookie monster music in a while; let alone my dirty boys. What a combo.
I like this version a little better than Sir Elton's. The beat is a little better, plus I love those boys. I'm not fond of the video...but I'm alllll about the song.

This will be a lighter week for me since I have company. I know, it shouldn't be an excuse, but I PROMISE I'll work out every day...but just once; no doubles this week. I guess in my moment of weakness :) I will be but a mere half warrior.

So...
Hoo.

Thanks for stopping in. I look forward to visiting again Tuesday or Wednesday. I have one "marinating". I think you'll like it.

Have a great day!

Nickelback- Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting

2010-07-12T07:55:00.001-04:00

Who Knew?

2010-07-11T14:02:00.002-04:00

My daughter is a tween. This is a very difficult time for both of us. She is hormonal and doesn't know why; I do and don't want it to be true. She's growing up. I'm trying to keep her from growing away.

We've begun the spats where she rolls her eyes and her tone becomes condescending. I, in turn, give her more to do or remove privileges until the rolling stops and the tone settles. We've only had a couple of battle royales where we've both used our words. Those were painful; for both and I am sad it won't be the last time. She's a quick vicious thinker; just like her momma. We will have to learn to use our filters. She has to learn to listen and I have to learn to hear her. Tough times lie ahead.

So she was mad at me. I wouldn't let her go and meet a guy (with her two girl friends and his two guy friends) at the park so they could wander into the woods to a near by pond. I know, what a witch. BELIEVE me, I heard it. I was smart though and didn't use the "I was that age once...." and tried the logical point of view; it didn't help. She still punished me for two days with silence and disgruntled chuffs until I discovered she was planning to do it anyway. THEN we were BOTH furious.

It's okay. There is no power struggle. I am her mom. I run this house with her dad. This is NOT a democracy and she does NOT have a vote yet. Unpopular? You bet. Her girlfriends tried to persuade me which, if you know me? I don't need to tell you how it went. So that left Maddie angry again. I just get in the way of her life.

She came up to Promises almost reluctantly this weekend. Seeing her grandparents was the ONLY real reason as I was told. Well, they all took off to play golf and I stayed to hang with Maddie. She wandered around sighing and ignoring me for most of the morning.

"Hey Sweet. C'mere."
"What." She rolled her eyes and kept surveying the room as it it were changing colors with every blink.
"Want me to paint your nails and do your makeup?"
"I guess." but try as she might to look unenthused, she was back in a flash with my "art kit".
I painter her up. She looked beautiful. I asked her about the gang. She talked dryly almost incoherent mutters at first, but by the first coat, she was warming. I painted stripes and polka dots on her base coat.

She smiled wide, letting the "Oh wow that's COOL" face shine through...but only for a moment.
I finished her make up and turned the mirror. She pouted and studied herself from every angle.

"You're very beautiful Sweetheart. You're a beautiful young woman." My smile was tight from nothing more than telling the truth. Where did my little girl go? Gary Puckett began screaming in my head...I closed my eyes.

"Me?" she giggled. "Who knew?"

"My turn!" She peeped and began before I had the chance to close up shop. She worked and it looked good. A little heavy for me, but still nice.

"You're beautiful too Mom." I felt my teeth come together to bite back tears. The gap between us was closing.
"Get your phone and your purse." I said sniffing and wiping my eyes quickly.

"Why?"

"Momma don't get dressed up for nothin. We're going to lunch"

She lit up. "JUST us?"

"Yep."

"Topless?"

"Absolutely"

"Can I ride shotgun?"

I smiled. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

So we put the top down, the radio up and headed into town. She even got a couple of cat calls...that sun drenched blond daughter of mine. We ate and laughed and had a great time. I enjoyed her: not just sitting, but talking with her; hearing her opinions and twelve year old perspective. She's an amazing thinker and what a sense of HUMOR! Oh wow.

Lunch paid for, we drove home; still laughing and talking. I felt really good. Gap? What gap? It's nice to have these moments to reassure me that we'll get there as mother and daughter. We'll make it.

We pulled in and the girls next door raced over. Giggling and hopping like they all had to pee, they asked me if she could go tubing down the lake. Girly moment ....gone.

"Yep. Have a ball Bunny." I know when to let go, but there was still a tight little lump of sadness and disappointment in my throat.

"Byyyyye." She tossed over her shoulder running across the grass. "Hey guys! Look at my nails. MY MOM did them. Who knew?"

I ventured down to my hammock and began to write.. I played my iPod and just was dozing to a few songs that I used to play (...don't laugh...) through my headphones, onto my belly when I was pregnant with Maddie and she was painfully restless. (After all, babies DO run out of room in there. Good LORD! I'd sit up at night, barely able to breathe and she'd be skipping rope or playing trampoline on my bladder; WHATEVER they do in there) I don't play these songs very often and usually make me cry. They are extremely sentimental to me. She came dashing back, soaking wet, skin just a little more brown.

"Hey Momma, wer're back."
I didn't hear her at first. She pulled my bud back and said quietly. "We're back. Whatcha got?" and put the bud in her ear.

She paused, cocking her head. "What is this?"
" I used to play it a long time ago."
She sat down and listened. She cuddled up with me and we shared the rest of the song lying there in my hammock. It was truly touching.

"I like that for some reason. It makes me real relaxed. Can I burn it?"
"Sure."
"Can I go back to Julia's?"
"Sure."
"Thanks Mom. You're the best. Love you!" and off she scurried.

That's okay. I held my baby girl for a few moments. AND heard the words: Great, Love, and You all in one breath while they PERTAINED to me. I wiped a tear and closed my eyes. What a great kid. It just took a song to remind me.

Who knew.

TWILIGHT HOUR ~ TWILIGHT ~ NICHOLAS GUNN

2010-07-11T14:00:00.001-04:00

2010-07-09T06:50:00.001-04:00

No big surprise, I'm heading north this weekend. The added bonus is, I'm meeting my folks. Yep I AM the only person to use that word... ; ) I'm really looking forward to catching up. It's my favorite thing to do; well, right after "Giggle and point".

I have one in the works that I think you'll like and of course I must find my WPS. October is coming and so is that damn hat.

So enjoy your weekend. I'll see you soon...

NO OFFENSE

2010-07-07T21:15:00.003-04:00

No Offense

She never saw it coming. In fact, Ginny smiled at him. But that familiar comfort turned to amazement and unspeakable pain with the first blow of the hammer. Her head chimed like a church bell and everything began to fade. She pushed at him, scratching at his skin. She begged for him to stop, but the words were lost in the cracking, breaking of her face and head. Her world became dark and red. Far away, she heard screaming, all too late realizing it was her own. She felt herself slipping away. No one heard her gurgle “I love you .”; no one that would help her, anyway.

He wasn’t sure he could do it. He didn’t know if he was strong enough or could hate enough to do it. But her smile, that gentle pure smile had sealed the deal. Rick swung ; again and again. She was so stunned she never really fought back. She had scratched him and that simply made him swing faster. It was over much sooner than he anticipated. He sighed; now the hard part. He pulled the saw and pliers from his bag. Nothing could be left to ID: no teeth, no hands for prints, nothing. He began to cut. When finished, he carried his gruesome evidence out to the car everyone in the neighborhood knew and no one suspected. It was just that easy. He stopped at various dumpsters placing his garbage inside other bags, travelled the back roads plopping the waste in remote shallow holes. He dismissed her piece by disgusting piece.

He was a little late for work and that made him sweat. He dressed quickly, showering for the third time since the morning. It was 2pm.

“Hey Buddy.” A strong hand clapped his shoulder. He winced as Steven shook him jokingly.

“Hey. When did you get back?” Rick’s voice dry and small.
“Just came straight from the airport.”

Rick wiped his face and tried to pull the guilt from his cheeks with his towel

“Hey Man, I heard about the wife.” Steve’s tone changed to one more serious.

Rick felt his legs fill with hot lead. His stomach tightened.

“What?”

“I heard. I’m sorry it went down that way.”

Rick looked everywhere but at the man who’d known him for more than a decade. Surely Steve would see it, smell it. Rick tied his shoe, and cleared his throat. It felt tight.

“Let’s go.” He muttered and turned away.

“Sure Buddy.” Best not to beat a dead horse he thought. “I have to drive out to Rusty’s and get that report to him. Wanna come? Might do you some good to get out.”

Rick shrugged and followed. The car ride was silent and tense .

“I’m sorry Rick.” Steve began again.

“Can we not talk about it? It’s still pretty fresh.” The copper smell cloying in his nose.

“I feel like I have to. It was my fault.”

“Steve, please.” Rick’s voice cracked. He choked on a soft laugh.

“Rick, I had to. They were too close to me and any more discipline means I lose my job, my pension, my whole life.”

“Steve.” Rick gritted his teeth and clenched his fists against his pants. This explanation was sickening and sad. He stared out the window, rolling his eyes. His mouth twisting and pinching with hateful, mocking gestures. He struggled with the desire to find his faithful hammer.

“I never thought she’d just disappear like that.” His partner hung his head. “I had to man. No offense.”

Rick chuffed and sucked his teeth. “Sure, I get it and I’ll get through it. You have to understand, I’m a little lost right now. I’m trying to find my way without her. You threw me under the bus pal. I’ve had to go through horrible accusations; you’ve ripped me a new one. And let’s not forget what my family was left to think.”

“Sure, sure and listen; we’ll be there for you. I’ll make sure you get back on your feet. It will only be for a while. You’re clean. They will stop riding you so hard real soon.” The older man’s voice attempted authority and comfort.

“I think you’ve done enough.” Rick said flatly.

Steve’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry.”

“I heard you the first time.”

Disappointment sat between them childishly for the remainder of the ride. Steve drove out along the country roads to Rusty’s place. Rick stared into the woods imagining he saw piles of freshly dug dirt, or part of his handy work lying at the side of the road already drug up by some animal. His mouth was jammed with hot cotton. He swallowed hard and slammed his eyes shut. The visions only became more vivid. He rubbed his forehead and pushed his temples, attempting to slow his pulse. He felt his mouth tighten, stretching in agony across his pasty face. Insanity was rushing in.

Steve pretended not to see his friend's anguish. He pulled up to the farm and got out. He didn’t ask Rick to come with him. It would give them both a few minutes to cool off, start new. That was what they needed: a new start. He talked to Rusty about nothing and stalled a few extra minutes. He felt Rick’s eyes boring into him, sitting stoically on the seat chewing his finger. Steve flopped back in and revved the engine.

The radio crackled. “Code-2. We have a 187. Requesting available units in the area of Harrison and Park South”

Steve seemed to melt into the steering wheel.

“What do you want to do?” Rick asked.

“Find out.” He said sharply.

“Unit 248 responding. Do you have an address?”

“9871 West Harrison unit 248.”

“My house.” He whispered. With a shaking hand, he barely had the strength to ask the next question. His voice was weak. “187?”

Dispatch was clipped. “Yes. A homicide.”

“Ginny!” he barked, slamming the car into gear. It bit into the road with all the panic and force Steve could mash into the pedal.

Rick felt the tension crawl down his spine and circle his gut. His knees began to tingle. They only had a short ride. Soon his friend, his partner would discover he’d returned the unkind favor. He’d stripped Steve of everything that was important; family, his wife, the life he’d thought he’d live forever.

Rick’s wife Denise had walked out believing a lie; a rumor that Steve had conjured up to protect himself. Now it was Steve’s turn to experience such a great loss.

“No offense.” He thought viciously and waited to arrive.

Hey you! Nice of you to drop by and say hello. This one is kinda quick n dirty, but I like it for some reason. I hope you did too. Have a great night.

WPS

2010-07-05T05:00:00.007-04:00

All right, I'll date myself with this one.

I loved loved LOVED to roller skate (I was actually very good at it. I know... ME??? heehee) and THIS was my song. All weekend and at least once a week, I shuffled my little ASS off to this; complete with large handled plastic comb stuck in my back pocket. It didn't matter if there was a guy, a flood or a fire. If this song was on? I was moving and shakin my butt. I would flip around backwards, one leg out and down ya go.....round the turn if you're worth anything...the whole time rolling my arms, clapping...OH MY LORD! My girl friends and I would be panting and have this insane wild look by the time we were through. WHOOOOOO!!!! We'd cruise over as soon as it was finished and request it again.

As I sit here and type before 6am, the song is playing (okay REplaying) and I confess the headphones are CRANKED up. I'm just bobbing and weaving, pony tail swinging like crazy in my office chair...a different set of wheels. Of course my caboose is a little different these days too. ha. I still get goosebumps to hear this song.

Let's go warriors...light this fuse....

;) Hooyah!

You Dropped a Bomb on Me - The Gap Band - Lyrics

2010-07-05T04:55:00.003-04:00

2010-07-04T19:39:00.001-04:00

Happy Holiday folks!

I hope you enjoyed your friends and families.

We certainly did. We drove "back home" and had a BALL. I laughed until my sides and head hurt and we all had at least one of my "fits" (if you know me, you know what I'm giggling about). What a FABULOUS time. I hope yours rivalled or surpassed it. Be safe if you travel.

As I say every year:

This is the home of the free

Because of the brave.

Patient Privilage

2010-07-01T02:00:00.016-04:00

He saw her come in the building and began to set up the office. She peeked in after his secretary buzzed her through. He waited for her to settle. She had been coming long enough that he almost enjoyed her idiosyncrasies: moving the tissue box so it sat squarely on the table, adjusting the pillows for a pattern, holding the one that didn't match.
Nina sighed and rested her hands in her lap. It was the signal to begin. He smiled slightly.

"So Nina, how've you been sleeping?" Dr. Evan James began to flip through his papers. He studied them, clicking his pen to write.

"Eh. The same I guess." she sighed again, her fingers reaching into her thick dark hair and twirling. "The dreams are getting more vivid. I can almost see his face." She bit her lip, trying to recall a mystery man.

"Is this a good thing? The right thing?" he scribbled.

"I want to know- to be sure."

"Know what Nina? They are dreams. You are pushing to reach for someone that doesn't exist."

"Evan, they are real. It's MY home. Look at these bruises. Last time, I fought back and I hurt him." She twisted to show him deep, dark streaks down her arms and her legs.

"Hurt him?" he paused.

"Yeah. I bit him. My jaw is still sore." She smiled secretly.

"Nina, you are blurring reality with these dreams and stunting your progress."

"Bullshit Evan! Bruises! I struggled with someone IN-MY-HOUSE. Somebody is attacking me, terrifying me, destroying me! I'm NOT imagining it." her voice pitched up and got louder.

"While you're sleeping~" Evan's tone was even and patient. "There is no physical evidence. If your dreams are so horrifying, couldn't you be moving around and injuring yourself? What about your bedside table? Your headboard? You're reaching out, fighting off...against nothing but furniture. Night Terrors Nina. I've told you again and again. I'm your friend..."

"I don't pay you to be my friend." she mumbled angrily, flouncing back in the overstuffed chair and squeezing the pillow.

" Nina, I've known you since college. You came to me. Remember? You wanted the nightmares to stop. Right? What do you pay me for if you refuse to let me help you?"

She fired him a look drenched in frustration and contempt. They went through this regularly: her belief that someone was stalking, terrorizing her and her refusal to comprehend it was simply her mind. She'd been like this since he met her. They had a couple of classes together and lived down the hall from each other in the residence hall. For five years they had partied and studied together. Just last year, she had come to him sheepishly seeking a solution to her sleeplessness and feelings of paranoia. He quickly accepted.

He asked her if she'd read the article he'd given her last time. She snapped that she had, but he knew she was lying. He wrote some more in his notes and clicked his pen.

"How many hours this week Nina?"

"It's only Wednesday." her voice was small and childish.

He waited.

"Maybe four." she pouted.

He studied her. The pretty girl slumped sadly, her exhaustion hanging from her like a wet sweater. "Your meds?" but he knew the answer.

"Evan, they affect my memory. I don't like them."

"I prescribe them to help you sleep and decrease these hallucinations." he clicked sharply. Nina stiffened feeling the tension rise.

"Evan, what about the cigarettes on the grass? What about the cup left in my kitchen? You're dismissing again"

It was his turn to sigh. He once again pointed out she lived on a busy street where people walked dogs, or that it could simply have been discarded from a passing car. The cup? Who hasn't poured something for themselves, been distracted and then returned to forget they had gotten it in the first place? It didn't equal a mad stalker.

She hunched in her chair frowning and sulking.

"Nina?" he was losing her desire to communicate.

"What?" she huffed.

"What are you thinking?"

"I need to find a new doctor."

Evan laughed. "You don't really want to do that." He crossed his legs and put his paper down.

"Then why do THESE feel and look so real?" She waved her arms and legs like an angry puppet. He covered his mouth to stifle the snicker. "Why does my body remember pain? SHOW trauma? I can't do this anymore Evan. " She was pleading now.

He wrote the prescription and continued to talk. She half listened.

"They won't work." she said sadly and left feeling discouraged.

Moving to the window, he watched her walk to her car.

"Yes they will." he thought rubbing his arm. Evan noticed he'd begun to bleed through the bandage again. "They always do." his giggle was high and excited. They blurred her memory just enough so that she wasn't certain; yet. It kept him in control; but her determination was becoming tedious. In college it was a matter of slipping it in her drink. Now he simply wrote her a script and she took them on her own.

He pulled the notebook pages carelessly from their pad and read the one word he'd written countless ways for over an hour : bitch. Wednesday? She'd head to the gym, then to get her dry cleaning. It was right next to the store, so she'd more than likely stop and pick up some things. He checked his watch. He would make a couple of stops of his own. Reaching into his desk, he plucked a cigarette from the pack with his lips, lit it, inhaled deeply. He shuffled papers and loaded his briefcase to leave for the night, checking once more for the knife he'd recently purchased.

Nina was right. They couldn't do this anymore.

It's a little different than my usual endings. I fought with this one a lot. I couldn't find the right direction and writer's block held strong for a couple of days; but here we are and overall, it's not bad; not great, but not bad.

I hope you liked it. Thanks for coming. I appreciate you stopping by to see me.

Bandaids and brake pads

2010-06-30T05:45:00.003-04:00

You know I went up north. I had a discouraging couple of days; nothing major; disappointments but life happens while you're making plans, right? Right.

Regardless it felt amazing to get up to the house. I couldn't get stripped to my suit and down to the lake fast enough. The kids and I just kicked around and loved it.

Cheech had to come later, so I built the bonfire and after a late supper, we decided to make "ever mores" (Thanks Northerners) which is a s'more with a Reese peanut butter cup instead of a Hershey bar. Let's pause and give thanks for peanut butter because it makes my life SO much happier. *sigh* Well some of the wood for the outdoor fires is a little punky and old. It gives a lot of smoke and promise but little flame so I went to the brush pile and picked up an old branch. It was longer than I was tall so I whacked on a near by tree to break it into smaller pieces, which all occurred nicely. I picked up my couple of pieces, cradled them in my arms and headed back to the fire. I felt a pinch and shifted my load. I tossed one log in and held two. Another pinch. I looked down because there was a third, fourth...and

"HOLY SHIT" my hands were black and seething. Ants. I had broken open a FIRE-TRUCKING ant nest and was cradling the the whole pissed off colony in my arms. I threw the other logs into the pit and began to scrape myself. My hands were burning. All I could squeak and chirp was

"Ew! Ants. EVERYWHERE~ EWWW MORE! AUGH~" while hopping and dancing in the firelight...Dances with wolves? Pshawwww. He's got NUTHIN on me...

The fire took off and flames raced for the moon. Who'd have thought the new clean burning fuel was right under our noses (in our tree)...ants are flammable. I giggled, cruelly fantasizing that I heard the tiny screams of the bastards who bit me. Trite? Yes. Do I like it? You know I do.

I settled down (sort of...I had the willies and am still a little wiggly) and made myself an "Anya", killing the pain with a yummy beverage of the adult kind. After checking my bed for ant ninjas (they're everywhere), I slept wonderfully, listening to the lake, the breeze...maybe it was ant venom...do they have venom? I love this place.

Morning brought a new day and new experiences. Maddie wanted to move the guest room around to surprise our next round of house guests (remember to keep that look when you see it). I was moving a set of shelves that was built in the fifties with lead and petrified redwood trees. It weighs a ton and would withstand Katrina force winds. I know it's solid since I promptly dragged that muthah right over my toe, peeling the skin away like a banana from its peel. My face puckered and I bit my lip pulling my injured piggy back sharply and cradling it with my lumpy somewhat swollen hands.

Maddie burst into tears. "Are you all right Mom? Oh my God, did you cut your toe off?"

I hissed and muttered. I held my breath and tried to think through the pain devouring my leg. Then I opened my eyes to look at it. I think if I'd have cut it off, we'd have been in better shape. It's yucky. But I cleaned that one up too and went on. I watched the kids swim and loved being here. I enjoyed Cheech cooking some fantastic food. As a grand finale for Saturday night we had a bonfire and Cheech lit some fireworks. Winston hates fireworks.

We didn't really think about it; we're selfish that way. We lit them and enjoyed the bright lights, the noise : "ooooo-ahhhh" Winston decided we'd had enough. He jumped into the middle of the fray and attacked the hissing demon. Oh yeah. Little jerk got ahold of it too. So at this point, it would not really surprise you to hear that he was running around like a tiny cannon, shooting hot phoshorous and explosives from a tube. I'm also thinking you would not be shocked that I stepped on the hot...coal? Sparkler? Ember? Whatever it was, so that I burned my foot; the same foot that met the heavy shelves earlier in the day.

It was a great weekend.
...that ended too soon. We just couldn't tear ourselves away; literally (we'd have lost too much flesh if we'd have tried). We left well after supper and began our drive home; through the mountains. I say this because it was half way down the second or third hill I realized I had no brakes.

Want me to wait? Through the mountains. No brakes. You know how I joke all the time when you have to go somewhere? " Drive fast. No brakes?" Yeah. Karma bit me right on the ass for that statement. So it was a tense ride home at 11pm. The car whined and cried all the way, shimmying like a tantrumming two year old every time I stepped on the chubby pedal. It was like stepping on an overripe kiwi. New Jersey. Safe. I had them fixed Monday. Apparently, I had NONE up front and was riding 1/32 in the rear...almost nothing.

FABULOUS!

So I hope your weekends were a little more sedate. Mine? It was good; in spite of it all.

Thanks for giggling along.

WPS

2010-06-28T04:50:00.002-04:00

This one was funny. This song was on a K-tel record; RECORD. My dad used to play it and I have always loved it.

When I became a mom, I did the same. It's the only song where my son will "let it go" We used to dance, jump, giggle and move to this song day after day. Even when I was looking for it and they heard it jingling out of the speakers, they came running and it actually took me longer to get it up (I was working last night and had to finish this morning). It felt good. I loved seeing my babies again...

Now I DID find an updated version and confess although it has my thump and bump, it's not the same.

My kids agree so here we are. I put them both up.

I'm struggling my warrior fans. The climbing portion is killing me. I know I will get there. I'm simply too stubborn not to, but oh my GOD this is hard. I can't get up to the top of the ropes. I'm fighting myself more than anything I think.

So now you know why I chose this one today. I need the help. Let's go kids...

Hooyah.

Hot Butter - Popcorn (Original Version) - 1972

2010-06-28T04:45:00.001-04:00

Popcorn (dance mix)

2010-06-28T04:40:00.003-04:00

2010-06-25T17:23:00.003-04:00

Hey Pretty people!
I snuck out early today and am up at Promises. I parked, ran the dogs out and dashed to the lake asap. The water is beautiful. You can see all the way to the bottom. After a discouraging day, this is what I needed. Ahhhhh.....

I have one finished and two to do. I know I know...I'll have em up shortly. Enjoy your weekend. Wish you were here.

See you soon.
Love,
Tess

WPS

2010-06-21T05:05:00.002-04:00

This one is a mindless jump start: instant thump and boom. I try sometimes NOT to get motivated and fail. She's a little "clubby" but she gets the job done and I do like her in smaller doses (my favorite being "Every Time We Touch"). I found the one with the lyrics because they get lost in the beat...Oh. She's SINGING with that? ;) All right, you caught me. I'm stalling this morning. It IS five AM guys...c'mon...

Cheech has built my anchor for my "ropes course". Wagers for first date of fall?
Care to "Pin the Ace (bandage) on the injury"? This is going to be good you know. Perhaps I'll post THAT as a video.

ahahahaha. no.

Warriors Hooyah!

Enjoy your day.

Bad Boy - Cascada With Lyrics

2010-06-21T05:00:00.002-04:00

Miss You

2010-06-19T03:00:00.007-04:00

“What’re you wearing?”
She laughed. “I’ve been dying all day for you to ask me that.”
“Come see me.”
“I can’t “
“You won’t”
“I really want to, but I’ve got to go. I’ll be late for my flight.” She sighed heavily.
“I’d make it worth your while.” He purred into her ear.
“I know you would.”
She left thinking of him; missing him. The long flight didn’t help. She travelled for what seemed like days. By the time she finally reached the hotel and got up to her room, her eyes were burning, the tug of loneliness weighing her down more than her luggage. But she was asleep before she hit the pillow so he didn’t seem so far away in her dreams.
She enjoyed her friends. They shopped a little, walked a lot; eating, drinking and laughing even more. She was glad she’d come though his face, his touch and his voice echoed inside her. She missed him terribly. With only a couple of nights left, she felt the toll of being out late too many nights in a row. She was drained by the sun and the fruity drinks. She left her girlfriends early for a quiet nap in her room, a shower with the promise to meet them for a late dinner.
She was glad her room had been serviced. She sighed pulling off her swim suit and sauntering to the green marbled bathroom. She stretched wearily and stepped in, feeling the warmth of the water. The billows of steam lulled her until her phone rang. She cursed, vowing to let it go. It rang again. And again. Finally, muttering under her breath she wrapped a towel around her a headed for her bureau.
“Hello.” She grumped, snatching it from its cradle.
“Hey.” He hesitated sensing her irritation.
Instantly her shoulders released. She bit her bottom lip. “Hi.” She smiled catching the slick phone with both hands. Her knees went a little weak.
“NOW what’re you wearing?”
She huffed “Well, Mr. Smarty Pants, I’m in a towel.”
“I know. I heard your shower here in the hall.”
She paused. “Haha. Well, watching me like that is considered stalking Sir.”
“If you open the door, it could make me a guest.”
Silence. She twirled her hair, contemplating. Water skipped down her shoulder. She shivered.
“I wish, Baby.”
There was a knock. She froze.
“Don’t be coy young lady, let me in.” a slower softer knock followed. Closing his phone crisply, he stepped back so she could see him.
Her heart began to pound. She stared at the door, straining her eyes to see through it. Slowly she made her way, sneaking up on it; her breath almost a pant with each step. Gently she opened the door and peeped out. His smile spread eagerly across his face as she gasped, her arms swinging happily around him. She rained kisses and laughter against his neck and shoulder. He hugged her tightly.
“I can't believe you're here!” she almost squealed. “Let me finish up real quick and then tell me how you did this, you sneak.” Her eyes shone brightly and her smile seemed to radiate all the way from her toes. She dashed back to her bathroom still giggling.
He put his things away and mixed a drink from her mini bar. The steam from her shower snaked out across the room. He could smell her soap and hear her singing softly. He wandered in, leaning lazily in the doorway watching her.
Through the frosted glass, her body seemed to move more slowly. Her long hair drank up the rushes of water, spilling them down her back. He loved the way soap pouted along her tan skin and stuttered at the curves of her body. Her hands absently rushed the bubbles around. His body began to heat up. Taking another drink, he tapped at the door.
“Want some company?” he began to unbutton his shirt.
She wiped water from her face and blinked back droplets. “Actually no.” She sputtered through the “rain”.
He stopped.
She quickly turned off the water. “At least not here.” She giggled, kissing him lightly. He preferred the water from her lips to his drink and reached for her.
Teasing his mouth with hers, she stepped out, coaxing him, gently pulling him toward the bedroom while untucking his shirt. In between her barrage of kisses, she whispered how she missed him.
“Show me.” He challenged.
Her eyes sparkled. She began to slowly trace his lips with her tongue and nip along his jaw, nuzzling his neck. Her breath was soft in his ear. Her fingers flipped at his buttons, quickly giving her more of his body to touch and enjoy. She leaned against him to feel as much of him as possible.
“I love your body.” She said against his shoulder, tugging at his pants. She laughed hearing the heavy clunk of his keys hitting the floor. She loved the small shiver she caused as her hands became more aggressive and searching. She gingerly traced the length of him, holding his body in her soft hands.
“I’ve missed you.” Her voice was barely audible.
He swiftly lifted her, her legs wrapping carelessly around him as he hoisted her playfully on to the bed. Now kneeling above her, he watched the flat of her belly quiver with excited breaths. His fingers trailed along her leg, giving chase to the last of the water. She raised up to meet his touch. He watched her close her eyes, loving the way she interlaced their fingers, guiding him. As he touched her, kissed her, her body began to shake in anticipation. His desire grew as she licked her lips and moved with him. It drove him crazy, the way she almost whimpered his name, quietly begging him. His mouth and tongue were urgent along her hips and across her stomach. She arched, gasping when his mouth became more gentle, cautious, kissing her slowly, enjoying every moan and twist of her body. Her breath quickened. He saw her clutch the sheets. He felt her muscles tightened, her back arching. He did not stop, he continued to taste her pleasure relishing her hunger and want for him.
“I love the way you touch me.” She softly moaned.

She scissored her legs, rolling him on to his back. Her breath was jagged, her cheeks flushed with passion. She dropped her head to kiss his chest. He stroked her hair. Her tongue was warm, her mouth eager as she explored the shape of him. His toes curled and although he wanted to see her. He shut his eyes so he could feel the heat of her mouth and the movement of her body. He groaned quietly. She sat up, her knees on either side of him, her body warm and tight. He reached for her hips to move her. Her wet hair hung recklessly in her face clinging to her shoulders.
“Is this what you want?” he asked pushing against her, his own breath becoming a heated pant.
“Oh God, yes.” She whispered. Her body began to push back, rolling just slightly as she moved to feel more of him. She took his hands and ran them along her ribs up under her breasts, kissing each finger.
The fire began slowly in his knees scrambling under his skin. He grabbed at her. At that instant she gasped, her own passion igniting and sending her to the brink of tears. His body nothing short of perfect for her. She collapsed above him still feeling the surge of their ecstasy. She kissed his face, her body remaining coiled around him. He held her, sweat tingling along his scalp. Their breath slowed. Their touch became softer, less hungry. She shifted to lie next to him, running her hand lovingly along his ribs. He huffed a quiet laugh and twisted under her light touch.
“Dinner with the girls?” he asked kissing the top of her head.
She reached for the phone. “Room service.”

May your heart thump this weekend. ;) Thanks for visiting. Hope to see you soon.

I also wanted to thank everyone for the emails, comments and encouragement (anonymous and named). I appreciate the time you take to spend with me; truly.

SAY CHEESE

2010-06-17T19:00:00.005-04:00

Every couple has their "thing". You know, the little thing about your Love Muffin that drives you to the brink of insanity. If you have been together long enough, it eventually fades out of the scope of importance.

If you were to ask Cheech, he would tell you that the way I wrap leftovers is grounds for divorce. I (unlike my Lovey Dovey) do NOT feel the need to double wrap with Press n Seal, (that shit is more sticky than the goop from the La Brea Tar Pits) because I want to get back in there at some point and eat what I've saved; hence LEFTOVER. I still want it, just not right now. It isn't (in my mind) meant to be looked at from a hermetically sealed NASA approved container. No matter HOW pretty it is. When he finds one of my masterpieces, he gives me that "Really? REALLY?" look down the top of his nose. He used to yell at the kids when the cheese had those little crispy dry corners or the noodles got skinny and hard as if they'd been through the dishwasher. I of course being the adult; giggled and pointed; free of blame and suspicion. He's on to me though and now he shakes my leftovers all the way to the trash and says "Why do you hate me?" slam dunking them into the can for emphasis.

I shrug tossing the equally pointless answer: "Because I can. Does that mean we're going out for supper?" It's trite but I like it.

Weeeelllllll, let's get to the flip side: Magazine cards. Those pesky little Publisher Clearing House notices, cutesy check ordering cards OR the ones that entice you to purchase a magazine. (usually the one you're holding....mmmmm Hello?) You know what I mean. They are stuck in various places and fall out all over. Cheech is completely consumed with an undying hatred for these little tiny "billboards" and will spend his initial perusal of a periodical ripping them out AND leaving them. Boom. There I said it. HE LEAVES THEM OUT. Now if you don't like them in the magazine, what in tarnation (I just wanted to use the word) would lead you to believe I want to see them on my coffee table, my end table, my secretary, my desk.....*pant pant* PICK THE DAMN THINGS UP! But I don't do that. I don't say that. I just sigh, roll my eyes and shake them viciously on my way to decorate my discarded leftovers in the trash bin.

"Why do you do this?" I am usually hissing.

He gets that look and pulls another, letting it drop to the floor, proudly sauntering off.

Ohhhhh no you DID-ent~! and the war began.

Six months. I waited six months. And what did I DO during those six months? I'll tell ya my friends. I collected magazine cards. All of them. I went to book stores and shook various copies so the loose ones fell out. I gathered them. When he left them on my tables or by his chair? I jovially scooped them up. And THEN I put all of them into ONE FRIGGIN MAGAZINE. I mean to tell you that March's Wood Worker Magazine resembled the Oxford unabridged dictionary. There had to have been a dozen every two or three pages. I simply laid it by his nightstand and if I got more, I slipped them in.

Like I said, six months went by. I even dusted that magazine to make it look more appealing. I would pat it and soothe it. "One day Little Buddy."

I usually head up to bed before Cheech. I'm writing or reading and just want my bed and a teeny snack. It's my me time. I love my bed. On THIS night. He followed me.

"What are you DOING?" I demanded licking a cracker from the plate.

"I'm tired. I'm coming to bed. I'll just read for a bit and be out cold." He was already yawning.

My heart soared. My pulse quickened. I bit my lip to stifle the squeal of joy. I fought not to run and JUMP into bed patting the blankets yelling "Here! Here! READ THIS!"

I milked it. I lazily put on my jammies and got ready for bed. I sighed and pretended to read a book. He slipped in next to me and picked up....the magazine.

He turned the page: a couple little cards fell out. He picked them up and set them on the nightstand. I felt my toes cramp from the giggles. He turned another page and a few more tumbled out. The corners of my mouth puckered and twisted. I faked a sniff to hide the laugh.

"What the..." and he began to scan the magazine.

The tears flowed down my cheeks as I lay there in a seizure of uncontrollable guffaws.

"Why?" he asked slapping the skinny book on the blankets. He tried not to laugh. The magazine was still snowing info cards.

I picked up a piece of cheese from my plate and examined it. There was a little dried up corner.

"Because I can." and I popped it in my mouth. I made a yummy noise and grinned.

I hope you enjoy your special one a little more today. Laugh at no wait ...with WITH them.

;)

Glad for the end

2010-06-16T16:00:00.004-04:00

I consider myself a pretty patient woman (unless at the grocery but we all have weaknesses). As a mom, I do my best to go with the flow...to a point and that "point" is not very far when children who are not mine are involved.

As I've noted before, the moms at the bus stop and I do not "click". We are cordial. I don't have much in common with them. We all have different parenting dynamics and should respect that. It seems the only adult thing to do. I have tolerated their high school antics and will be glad when school is out. Sticks and stones.

For instance, I didn't say anything one day when a mom permitted her young son (too young for the bus) to bring along his full sized hockey stick to the stop. He is one third its size and can handle it less than half the time. He nearly struck one of the smaller girls in the face, let alone what he'd tried to do to his brother. His mom told him "tip down". He refused to listen. She informed him she would count to three and began. I turned away because in my house ... well, we KNOW don't we? But I heard the strangest thing: eight, eight-and-a-half, nine, nine-and-three quarters, ten. He did not stop and as his carelessness escalated, our bus stop resembled a scene from a bad police movie where the rookie cop wields a gun while everyone else shrinks and ducks for cover. She's counting all right, but still talking. (About what, I have no idea. I was too busy bobbing and weaving, wondering whose line he could play on for the Hawks) She reached over to take the stick. He swung at her belly while screaming 'NO!". She luckily caught it and wrestled it from him. As she turned to continue her conversation with an eye roll and an inconvenienced sigh, he kicked her; right in the ass and called her stupid. It took everything I had. I glanced at my son who was as white as albino snow. He shook his head and covered his own rear end. I patted his head and said into his precious little ear: "You're a good guy Boo. I'm proud that you're my son."

I didn't interfere when, (on a different day)playing a game, certain kids picked on others (gotta fight their own battles) calling them stupid, bitches, or retards. The insults and bullying continued to the point of tears for one young boy. That drew a great phrase from Mom of the year:
"It's a phase. Maybe your son will learn not to be so sensitive."

The other mom gave a small smile and comforted her kindergartner. Nope. I sighed and counted just like Mom...to ten using fractions. AS much as the desire consumed me, I didn't even trip those monsters. I truly wanted to step on their lunchboxes, but thought better of it. I wanted to say something to Mom, but seemed to be the only one noticing this atrocious behaviour. I withdrew even more. I did notice my kids stopped hanging with them after school. They stopped talking to them in the morning. I can't say I was sad.

I turned the other cheek when they played basketball with my convertible and a tennis ball. I didn't get horribly upset when, throwing rocks, they also hit my "baby". Each time, I was polite. I asked them to stop and to please go elsewhere to play. My voice may have been a bit clipped and my fists were clenched so tightly that I could feel my pulse in my rings. Mom never offered to correct the mistake on her own. She never apologized. Not once. In the end, she did one better:

"Maybe you'll learn not to bring your car to the bus stop so they could play. That would be nice" she flipped with a careless mean laugh. She turned and kept talking.

......let's pause here. Do you feel me? (if you know me, you do ) THIS is the point when I boiled over.

"And maybe, just MAYBE over the summer you could teach your children to respect others' feelings and property. Wouldn't THAT be nice? I know I'D like to see it." I equalled her biting nasty pompous laugh and as I did it, I laid my hand on her arm throwing a girly shrug.

Wow. It felt good. One of the most delicious bites I've ever taken. She recoiled from me, staring at me with a look like her mouth was filled with crap flavored gum. I felt my cheeks flush but it was with fury and I was ready to take this a step further. I had had enough.

"I NEVER..." she gawked.

"I know. It's painfully obvious." and I turned on my heel. The bus driver opened the door and the kids got on. I waved to Boo and without turning around headed to my car. I drove to work feeling the hate and daggers. It didn't hurt. Must be my old age. ;)

That was a couple of days ago. She has been taking her children to school waving and stopping to chat with the other moms as she drives by me ( she seems to chew that nasty gum a lot...)

Today, one mom touched my arm.
"Ummm"
I turned and looked a bit startled. I'm used to silence or hanging with Boo.
"I wanted to say something about what you said the other day."
I braced myself.
"I thought it was funny." and she smiled.
"I lost my temper and embarrassed myself but I couldn't help it."
"Her kids are frickin monsters. My son won't even play with them anymore."
I shrugged. "I'm sorry."
It was her turn to shrug. "I guess we're all looking forward to the end of the year."

More than you know Sistah was what I thought but returned a diplomatic "I guess."

Better days and stronger martinis. Thanks for listening to me rant.

2010-06-14T10:01:00.003-04:00

So a small tired warrior revs up with Christina. I confess after the weekend I had, I'm a little slow on the draw. This will help. Her voice is so powerful. One of the best concerts I've ever seen. (Cheech and I had THE best time and it was hands down one of the best bday gifts I've received..Thanks Lover ) It has the right rhythm for me today...a little lighter. Not elevator slow, but just enough to coax me into another higher powered song..."Ain't my Bitch" from Metallica? hmmmmm maybe.....but I won't post that one.

hooooo*yaaaaaawwwn...oh wait...that's not it.

Screw it, let's all go back to bed. heehee.

I have a good one to get out and need to polish it a bit. I'll have it up soon.

Have a great day my friends.
Snail's pace,
Tess

Christina Aguilera - Ain't No Other Man

2010-06-14T10:00:00.002-04:00

2010-06-11T06:09:00.003-04:00

All right my friends,
I'm out for a couple of days. Promises is calling and I am looking forward to some fantastic golf, marvelous spa, incredible wine and FABULOUS company...Cheech's. We're heading out bunny-less. ;) I can't wait to snooze in my hammock, cruise the lake in my floatie *complete with beverage caddy...Thanks Mommacita!, a little boating, fishing,......ahhhhh it doesn't get any better than this.

I'll see you soon.
Have a great weekend. Let's catch up mmmm first of the week? Sounds good to me too.

I'll Show You

2010-06-09T20:00:00.002-04:00

I’LL SHOW YOU

Ellen absently slid the pendant along the chain around her neck. She stared out the window smelling daffodils and rust through her old childhood screen. The tire swing hung moping, sagging on its frazzled weathered rope. She remembered her mother pushing her little girl frame, spinning her until her tummy tingled. She’d spun so fast that she couldn’t move her head and the laughter from them both came in breathy gasps. She had been afraid of the swing to start but her mom had coaxed her

“It will be all right. I’ll show you”

And Ellen watched her mommy whoop and holler like a child simply having fun. What a great day. She was so proud of her mom; so brave, invincible.

The sun ducked behind the clouds unwilling to share her next memories: Of the yelling, the hurt. Her mom didn’t approve of the teenager’s friends; didn’t like her boyfriend; wasn’t happy with her grades. Nothing was good enough. She simply failed at pleasing her mother or making her proud.

“Why don’t you care about your grades? It’s going to affect your life.”

“I DO care Mom.” Ellen rolled her eyes. Not this again.

“Then stay in once in a blue moon and STUDY! Show me you care.” Her mom pleaded.

Ellen DID study but she never let it interfere with her Friday night parties. So what if she snuck out? Everyone did it. And she could be doing a lot worse than smoking. She couldn’t piss a stream of gold to make her mother happy; be the right person. Why did her mom have to be right all the time? Why was she so controlling and overprotective? Ellen couldn’t take it anymore….so she left. “I’ll show YOU.” She muttered and crept away from her little girl room into the big girl world.

Life for that time was hard. Ellen laughed at herself thinking she’d once complained about homework being difficult. Those lessons were nothing compared to the ones she’d learned on the street. Crying over having to graph a parabola was stupid compared to crying over getting your ass kicked because the cardboard box you slept in under the overpass was newer than someone else’s. Worrying about who would ask you to the dance was nothing compared to the panic of wondering which trashcan your next meal would come from. Those days had been filled with more ugliness and fear than she cared to remember. The drug addiction was the bottom. She lied and stole. She sold herself and anything she could get her hands on just to buy that tiny packet that made the pain go away. At her worst, she’d felt nothing; at best she felt pain and loneliness eating her from the inside out. Her skins was filthy, her once pretty body had become emaciated, the skin hanging like an oversized suit. Her eyes once holding hope and a bright future seemed hollow and empty. She rarely looked at herself; shame? Maybe. The truth gouged at her. She had made a mistake. She touched the scar around her neck and shuddered hearing the crazy bastard (or on a good day, her dealer, )calls her a whore, demanding his money and spitting on her, raping her. The tears were warm and regretful as she recalled lying in her own blood wishing for something else; hoping someone would come and show her a different way out. Ellen didn’t know who called the ambulance.

She lay in the hospital bed for weeks floating in and out of consciousness and slowly losing the cravings. She never gave them her full name; just Ellie. But she cleaned up and got some meat on her frail bones. She even began to work at the clinic; simple things at first but it didn’t take long for Ellen to earn enough to share an apartment with a friend and nurse. She took the classes, studied hard and got her education moving on first to nursing school.

Ellen was wonderful with people. She cared for them and about them…”As if they were her own mother.” Her coworkers often said. Ellie never faltered; driven by something deep and strong; always striving for perfection. When nursing wasn’t enough, she swallowed up her business management degree and started a small army of home care nurses. She stepped into success as quickly as it presented itself. She shed her childhood and tragedy, never looking back; almost never.

The years swept by and at thirty-five she was going to be a mother for the first time. Her husband was home finishing up the addition on their beautiful spacious house. Yet, here she was, back at home. With shoes that cost more than all the furniture she’d grown up with, an elegant, sporty car and a basketball in her belly. She rubbed the baby lovingly. The knot in her chest tightened with the knock on the door.

The pastor met her in the skinny hall way where she’d run giggling as a little girl to wait for bedtime stories.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” He said quietly

“I didn’t know she was ill. I‘ve been away so long. I should have come sooner. I
could have helped…”

The pain rushed through her, stealing her breath and the victory she thought she’d come with. What was intended as the ultimate “I’ll show you” was crawling through her veins bitterly. The regret weighed her down so heavily, she thought she might fall to her knees.

“For you.” He mumbled, handing her an envelope.

Her skin pricked with a nervous sweat. She turned silently and left the preacher standing alone in the hall. She rushed to her room and collapsed on her bed. Her hands shook; her eyes were glued to the envelope and the gently sloping letters of her mother’s handwriting. She smelled the letter wanting almost to devour it and savor the last communication that would ever exist between them.

My Ellie,
We have run out of time. Time we should have spent laughing and sharing both our successes and failures. Time we could have used for forgiving and mending, we chose to waste with stubborn pride and anger.
I love you Ellen. As any mother, I wanted only the best:
Of friends
Of loves
Of life
For you.

But I was careless in thinking that my “wisdom” and expectations could or should supersede all of your youthful dreams, hopes and (now realized) harmless self discovery. I failed as a mother because I let you go. The regret and sadness consumes me almost as savagely as this God forsaken cancer. I used to choke on the words “I was wrong.” And “I’m so sorry.” Now I utter them daily to the school pictures of you on the mantle. It hasn’t helped. It never took the ache from my empty arms.

If I could go back, I would spend more time with you on that old tire swing and gladly wait for the day when I was old and afraid and you could coax me with…

”It’s okay. I’ll show you.”

Oh Ellie, how I wish you could.

Forever,
Mommy
The preacher leaned against the wall, wiping his own tears as Ellen sobbed. She clutched her pillow and screamed the only word she could think of. “Wait.” Her mind raced to answer her mother, to rush to the forgiving and tender words. They fell into the musty pillow with tears hot and remorseful. She shoved her horrible past into a million of her own I’m sorry’s, rocking back and forth; gasping for forgiveness. Finally, there was no sound. She cried herself to sleep as she should have that angry night so many years ago.

When it was time for the funeral, she stood tall. She endured the catty whispers and pointing.

“Why would she bother?”

“She left her alone to die.”

“Oh! And she’s pregnant????”

“Some mother she’ll be…”

She cleared her throat and turned to look hard at the skeptics. She’d be a great mother, just like hers. And with a little help, they would all succeed.

“I’ll show you.” She whispered, rubbing kicking tiny future.

Thank you for spending time with me. I hope you have a wonderful tomorrow.

WPS

2010-06-07T04:35:00.003-04:00

This one?
"oooo La-la-laaaa!"

Well, it's a fun lil virus of a song that scratches and plays in your mind (over and over) once you hear it. It has all those fabulous qualities I love: thump, thunder and a moment or to to shout. Most times I stop for this one, dancing around, getting thoroughly carried away, clapping and yes, I have smacked my warrior ass a time or two while yelling "HEEEEEY" . It's just one of those thangs. Go ahead n watch...You can see me doing this right?

heeeheeeheee...told ya

We have moved on to the next obstacle: leg healed (tires in full force and I must admit, even I am surprised) NOW? We add the climb. I am not looking forward to this since it is upper body only; no use of legs.

It's all in the name of the hat.
c'mon now SWITCH...
Happy Monday Warriors! Hooyah-lalaaaa!

Will Smith - Switch

2010-06-07T04:30:00.005-04:00

PRICK

2010-06-05T18:00:00.003-04:00

We all know I suffer from apiphobia or the fear of bees. If you've ever witnessed it, it is no joke...although funny once I come back in to consciousness. I swear I feel like those damn goats that stiffen up and fall over; only I cry more. The thought or sight of a bee, wasp or stinging monster simply makes me sweat, grow too weak to move and cry. The understanding that those teensy little hypodermic poison pumps have wings, can go virtually anywhere and force it through the flesh at their whim is making me queasy even now...typing it. At forty, this is NOT a proud admission...but we are all perfectly flawed aren't we? yep.

Regardless, I took my daughter over to the farm for lessons. I had some business to attend to and was stuck in the car for a bit. She was half way across the far field when I finished, but not wanting to miss her lesson or a chance to play with the horses, I sauntered across to have a seat in one of the lawn chairs underneath the willow tree. Beautiful. I sat and watched. She was doing well. I love watching her. She is so many things I'm not: graceful being the front runner. I sighed loving my kid and all she is.

I heard it : the rumbling. But I dismissed it; tricking myself into believing it was an engine...an ultralight or Jesus on a Mo-ped. It didn't work the second time. OR the third when it sounded to my ears like the hungry growl of an unfed Bengal tiger. The flap of demons' wings echoed in my head. My eyes shifted frantically trying to see, to find an escape route from this THESE monstrosities. I felt the wisp as it buzzed by my ear. There was a flash and I saw it. If it were any closer, I could have sucked it into my mouth with my screech of horror.

"Ehhhh!" I jerked as if struck with a seizure, sideways, tilting the lawn chair too far. Ploop! Out in to the grass I fell, the chair toppling on top of me like a white plastic cage. Oh no wait, it wasn't grass. It was clover. Clover full of those cute tiny white flowers. Clover full of bees.

Let's see if I can get this right for you:

I broke. My neck was no longer strong enough to support my head. My joints tingled like they had fallen asleep. It was almost ninety degrees outside yet goose bumps stacked three high on every exposed surface of my skin. My scalp felt like it was trying to run away. My mouth was full of hot dry panic and my throat? well, it just closed up shop for the day. The tears were working though. They ran down my face and tried to get help. Thanks guys, but it was no use, the ground sucked em up. I was helpless. My insides were hot and gurgly desperately fighting to find a better shelter than this hot mess of a woman in the dirt. I couldn't even open my eyes. Every muscle was paralyzed and tight.

I don't honestly know how long I was there. Maddie's lesson runs about ninety minutes to two hours sometimes. The sun was going down. That was a good sign. Bees aren't out at night.
Maddie and her teacher bent over me.

"What are you doing in the grass? Are you all right?"

I blinked back some more tears. I looked at them blankly. "It's not grass. It's clover" but the words were soft; staggered.

"Oh Mom...bees?" She looked around and saw a few stragglers. She shook her head and kneeling down beside me, patted my shoulder. So firetrucking comforting from my tween.

I wiped my eyes. "I fell out of the chair. It was in my face... I ..." my voice hitched. I felt my face pinch up. I willed myself not to cry;fighting for an even voice.

Her instructor covered her mouth to stop the giggle. "Oh Dear, I'm so sorry." she curled her lips under to bite her laughter. I think she had to swallow them.

"It's all right. I understand." ( And really I do. I know how funny I look. )I smiled sheepishly. Maddie collected her poor broken mother and we drove home.

Telling Cheech about it ; he was enjoying the vision of his wife collapsed in a field terrified almost to the point of peeing in her pants. He handed me my robe.

"C'mon. We'll go soak. You'll feel better."

"I'm such a boob. I wish I wasn't so afraid." I said genuinely. I really wish I wasn't. I hate being afraid.

"Awww, c'mere. " He opened his arms and I snuggled up next to him. He hugged me and told me it was going to be okay. We got up to head for the tub. I looked back to call the dogs and saw a spot on the bed.

I had been lying on a wasp.

Screaming something that rhymes with brother trucker, I proceeded to beat it with my flip flop. I mean I hit it until it was pulp. Cheech just stood and stared.

"Done?"

I was panting and sweaty. " Is it dead? Does it still have a shape? "

"No." he gently reached for me. "Put the club down. Come with me. It will be safe for you again some day...."

Some day, but not today.

FRIENDS

2010-06-03T17:43:00.006-04:00

All right my Dears (especially Spike..for this is the one), let's turn the lights out and do it in the dark.

;)

FRIENDS

When they moved in, the woods stretching out beyond the property scared her. it seemed like months before she even ventured off the porch; but she did and slowly Shelley began to creep into the shelter of the trees, the comfort of the creek. At last her mother, Linda realized Shelley was almost never home; not that Linda minded. It kept her out of the house and away from Kevin.

Kevin was the biggest mistake she’d ever made. In the beginning, he’d been charming, polite and sexy. He’d absolutely swept her off her feet. He’d called her smart, thought she was beautiful and had taken her to exotic and wonderful places. Now it was very different. He drank heavily and found her worth little conversation unless it was to scream at or criticize her. His fists had not missed an opportunity to express themselves either. To have Shelley out of the way was a Godsend until l Linda could get Kevin out or pack up and leave.
Linda discovered that Shelley had some new friends she often met in the woods. This gave her comfort to know that Shelley had someone to confide in and go to if she needed.
“They help me. They listen.” Shelley told her once. She scratched absently at her legs.
Linda asked if perhaps she’d gotten into poison ivy. Shelley simply shrugged and went on.

However, as the days passed, Linda began to watch her daughter more closely. Shelley was sneaking food from the house; a lot of it; mostly leftovers. The little girl muttered to herself and the scratching became incessant. Her skin was sugar beet red and almost seemed torn. Attempts to talk about it or her new friends were useless. Shelley always dismissed them. Shaking her head,
“You wouldn’t get it.”
“Try me Shell.”
“They aren’t ready to meet you yet.”
“Are they all right? Do THEY need help?”
“Nope.”
One Saturday Shelley sat at the edge of the woods giggling and scratching. Linda hadn’t meant to sneak up on her but; she had startled her young daughter.
“What do you want?” she almost shouted, dipping her hands in her lap.
“Shelley, Honey, nothing. I just came out to talk.”
“I’m busy.”
“Whatcha doin?”
“Talking with my friends.”
Linda looked around and strained her ears. Nothing.
“Who?”
“My friends. We sit here a lot when Kevin is being a big jerk or beating you up.”
“Honey…” Linda felt her face flush and she carelessly reached for the new set of bruises along
her arms.
“It’s all right Mom. They know. They’ve seen it all.”
Linda looked around again. “Who?”
“My FRIENDS” the little girl’s eyes widened in frustration. Her head teetered on her skinny shoulders.
“Where are they?”
Shelley sighed, her upper body slouching in surrender. “Here” and she yanked her hands from her lap.
Linda recoiled, her mouth twisting into a grimace. She had been on her haunches but was so stunned she plopped to the ground next to her daughter.
Shelley held a bug. A worm. A mess. It was a little bigger than two inches with long jointed legs that stuck out almost like hair from every spot. It resembled a silverfish but had jaws, pincers with notches in them like teeth. It raised its head and wiggled in her hand. Linda thought she heard it mewl.
“Oh God, no Shelley.” Quickly swiping at it.
“NO!” screamed the child, pulling away just in time. The creature curled up in her hand and displayed its mouth. Its legs stuck up and Linda now saw little hooks at the joints. It turned blood red and a juice seemed to drip from its teeth. “She wasn’t bothering you.” Shelley bent over the thing and spoke softly stroking it with her finger. The worm seemed to calm and after a few moments, changed color and posture, scurrying along Shelley’s arm, around her neck to the other side; like hide and seek.
Goose bumps and nausea filled Linda’s body. “Oh Sweetie, don’t let them climb on you like that.”
“They won’t hurt me Mom.” Shelley giggled and scratched.
“Well, they might. They’ve got some pretty nasty teeth.”
“No. They promised.” She smiled sweetly. Shelley got up and sauntered into the woods with her little pal zigzagging down her back and around her belly. “That tickles silly!” The bug raised its head and almost waved one of its legs at Linda. She swore she heard a yelp.
The grass mumbled and swished behind her, but Linda didn’t think it was the wind. She shuddered.
Kevin came home late after too many drinks. The violence erupted like one of his shaken bottles of seltzer. Linda cried. Kevin kept swinging, his voice growing more slurred and louder with each contact to her poor chest and back. She gasped for breath, praying that if she made it, she’d leave. She promised God she would. He beat her into the corner, her lip split, her eye swelling. Her shoulder ached, probably dislocated again. He kicked her, threatening her. Kevin swore he’d take it down the hall if she didn’t shut it.
“You want Shell to get in on a little of this?” he spat.
Thump: fists on flesh.
Linda moaned.
“ANSWER ME!” he screeched. He loved hearing her beg.
Crack: foot to ribs.
“No Kevin. Please no.” She cowered and prayed some more.
“Then behave.” He snarled kneeling down over her. His breath was sour and angry. He was in
such frenzy; he couldn’t speak without making contact. This time he pinched her.
“ AAAHEYHA! I will.” She whimpered, twisting under his fingertips.
“Do what I say.”
“ I will.”
“WHAT?” he thundered in her ear and a clap of his hand. The suction caused an instant splitting
headache. The poor woman tried to climb into the wall. He’d hit her so much, her skin was becoming numb. He’d been pounding at her for too long. She was dazed and forgot to say “Sir” He raised his fists.
“Stop.”
The two fake adults stared dumbfounded.
“Shelley, honey, no.” Linda choked and reached out, frantically waving her daughter off through
tears and blood. No one had heard her come down the hall.
Kevin stepped quickly, snatching the girl by the shoulders.
“What the HELL did you say to me little girl?” he slurred.
Her voice was strong. “I. Said. Stop.” She cocked her head and grinned.
“You need me to show you what back talk gets?” He pulled her close and raised his hand again.

Linda cried out, scrambling on hands and broken legs to reach Shelley in time.
“No SIIIR.” Her eyes widened just a little, seeming to grow brighter. She shook her head slowly.
He swung anyway, so hard it cracked like dry firewood. It burned inside Linda’s chest. The mark was instantaneous, leaving traces of each finger on her face. He checked his palm. It stung.
“You hurt me.” Shelley said quietly and stepped back.
“I’ll do more than THAT” he began leaning in to grab her again.
Shelley laughed.
He stopped.
The wind puffed through the open window, the sweet smell of spring and vengeance crept in. As did Shelley’s new friends. They clicked and rushed, spilling over the window’s edge and along the floor. Their antennae flicking, teeth gnashing and hissing. Their legs carried them swiftly. Their bodies seemed to mold to any surface or shape. Some looked like smiles for they walked sideways. Others pushed on in a harried mess. The carpet grew darker as the number of pals poured in.

Kevin jumped back; his face contorting with revulsion. Millions of spiked feet clicked along the floor. Thousands of jaws yawned and snapped hungrily. They surged forward weaving a writhing carpet between him and the child. They even began to stack themselves giving depth and height to this nightmare.

Linda collapsed shocked and repulsed by Shelley’s clapping.
“Good job! Goooood job!” and pulling a hunk of meat from her pocket, she tossed it to the growing monster.
The mass ferociously funneled in on itself the sound of ripping meat almost lost in the smacking of mandibles.
“What the fu..” Kevin whispered backing slowly away.
Shelley shifted her gaze. “I’ll say it for the last time. Sir>”
“Don’t. No!” his hands reaching up quickly signaling her to hush. His eyes never left the feeding worms.
“You hurt me.” And she crossed her arms expectantly.
Without hesitation the mountain of teeth opened and lunged forward toward the other monster in the room.
Shelley leaned back against the door jamb listening to the thick tearing sound. Eventually, Kevin stopped screaming. More bugs came and when supper was through, only bits of cloth remained.
Linda thought one of them burped. Several wiggled up Shelley’s leg. She reached down as they lovingly wove through her small fingers.
Linda threw up. She swiped her mouth with the back of her hand staring at her daughter.
“What have you done?”
“Nothing.” She said simply. Her lips coming together tightly. She pulled one of her pets from her
hair and kissed at it.
“Nothing????” Linda wailed. “You killed a man! You killed Kevin”
“Kevin? Yes. A man? Mmmmm..Debatable.”
“SHELLEY!” Linda screamed. Hysterical tears dripped down her battered face.
“Mom?” the young girl said quietly. “They don’t like noise. It’s why they came in the first place.”
Several more wove playfully in and out of her shoelaces. Another burp.
“I see.” Linda cupped the sides of her head. “What do I do?”
Shelley smiled. “Don’t hurt me.”

WPS

2010-06-01T07:34:00.004-04:00

All right,
I admit it. This is pure silliness. I love this song (despite the wretched boofed up hair and horrible ensembles) but when I was introduced to the first video; I ...did what? C'mon. It's not Monday and I know you know...

Giggle and point? heeheehee...yes yes I did. Especially when you (if you're old enough to) remember the prima donna fights that took place in and out of the tabloids for this band. MEOW! Dem some SERIOUS beetches!

And so, althought I am being the "not so serious warrior" today , I did respectfully post both. Okay, I did it all for me. Because in the end...that's who it should be about, right? Yep. Me. ;)

I hope that you all had a wonderful and safe holiday. I missed you and appreciate your visits over the long weekend. My plan is to get up one or two posts before heading back up to Promises.

Separate Ways: Literal Video Version (see info)

2010-06-01T07:32:00.001-04:00

Journey - Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)

2010-06-01T07:25:00.002-04:00

FLASH

2010-05-27T21:21:00.010-04:00

I regret it now; not paying attention, dismissing the texts:

<3 u u r pretty Miss u :) But I let it go until it was too late; when I noticed the red Ford focus almost everywhere I went. There's irony for you. I tried to see him, tried to get the plates. But he would flash his lights as a farewell and speed off. If I had been more careful, I wouldn't have ended up there; in that horrible place on that terrifying night. I smelled musty wood and hot dust. The floor below me was cool and smooth. Every muscle in my body burned. One eye was swollen shut and sore under a blindfold. A grungy rag filled my mouth and ground dryly at the corners of my lips. Zip ties bit at my wrists and ankles. I moved gingerly and tried to find a wall. I bumped into something solid, heavy. Exhausted I tried to relax and figure out how long I'd been out and gone. The last thing I remembered was talking with Kelly, making a lunch date. My stomach announced we had not made it and that it was upset at this. I had to stop and get dry cleaning and pick up milk...Oh I hoped it wasn't spoiled. I pushed again against the furniture I'd found, pushing and rubbing my head to pull the blinder off. Catching a rough edge, my hair ripped in clumps and the monster raked my face and scalp, but the blindfold gave some. I squinted and discovered I was in an attic. Long forgotten rain trails left moldy streaks along the slanted roof. Clumps of reds and oranges from the sunset plucked through a small window covered in cobwebs and neglect. A bureau loomed dark and solid above me, its edges warped and jagged with angry popping nails. I heard footsteps and humming. My gut wrenched as I quickly scootched my head along the corner to recover my eyes. A nail tore at my cheek. I lay my new wound on the floor in hopes of hiding the fresh blood. Holding my breath to stifle the cry, I collapsed on the floor and froze. The hatch shouted at his tug, sticking its tongue of a ladder out allowing him to enter. "Hey there." he whispered shyly poking his head into view. "Wake yet?" I counted beats to my breath to keep them low and even. This caused incredible pressure in my head, making my heart thump so hard, I was convinced he could see it bumping along the floor. He waited and watched. "Maybe later Jeannie. When you're hungry." his voice was frail and disappointed. Instantly my mouth became a waterfall, my belly churning almost twisting to sit up and beg in response to the promise of food. The door smacked shut. I was alone again. I inch-wormed back to the bureau and removed my blindfold once more. Then, sitting up I began to feel along the edges for one of those hateful nails. Hooking my wrists on one, I began to pull. The pain scurried up my arms burrowing deep into my bones. I pulled some more realizing my hands were filling with blood. I smelled copper and gagged. Tears spilled down my cheeks and jealously I killed them by wiping them on the shoulders of my shirt. How dare they escape before me. I yanked again, feeling the dresser teeter forward against my neck and shoulders. I dug my feet into the floor and pushed to steady it. There was a quick pop as the pressure released around my hands. I brought them around and kissed them. My long lost hands; puffy and trembling. "I love you fingers." I said gently wiping them along my shirt. I undid the blindfold and gag, beginning to inspect my gouges. They were deep and crimson. Slowly; thread by thread, I shredded the cloth (so as not to make tearing noises). I bandaged the gashes in my skin, tying them with my teeth. I sat silently and listened for him. Nothing. Near me, I rummaged a box, finding old school books, supplies and a metal edged ruler. I sawed the zips around my ankles freeing myself completely. This excitement was compounded by a familiar shape at the edge of the doorway; my gym bag. My PHONE! I cupped my mouth to stifle the giddy yelp that swelled in my chest. I began to creep toward it. Sweat drenched my underarms and hair, stinging the newly naked patches. Tooth by tooth I unzipped my bag just enough to get my broken hand inside. Hungrily my fingers snapped up my phone. I hoarded it greedily and retreated to the shelter of my dark corner and protector, the dresser. I quickly silenced the ring tones. "9-1-1" I chanted hopefully, my breath reduced to a pant. "911. What's your emergency?" I was dumbfounded. I didn't know where to begin...What IS my emergency? "Help me. I'm trapped. I've been kidnapped..." "You're what? Slow down." "Kidnapped." "Where?" "I don't know." "Are you hurt?" "Yes." "What's your name?" "Jeannie" "Okay, Jeannie. Where are you?" "I TOLD you! I DON'T KNOW!" Hysteria stole my voice completely. I whimpered into the speaker. "Can you see anything?" "No." "Do you know who did this?" "No." "Can you talk?" I could tell she was straining to hear me. "No." I hissed. "All right. Leave your phone on. We'll have to trace your signal." The waiting began. I heard her speaking in rushed tones and clicking on the keyboard vehemently. "We've got you. We have an area." I heard her call dispatch and give the information. "Hang on. We're coming." I smiled in the dark. I did not kill the tears that escaped now. We were all going to go home. I was safe. I lost it all. In a moment, my blood chilled in my veins, my head swirled unable to grip the reality of what was happening. I vomited. The walkie went off beneath me with the call to investigate. He answered calmly and professionally. "Copy that. Unit is ten minutes away from that area. Will call on arrival." There was an heavy click as he turned of the tattletale. His voice rose in outraged bursts. "DAMMIT JEANNIE! DAMMIT! You've ruined EVERYTHING!" He growled and rushed down the hall toward my prison. My bladder let go and I screamed for the first time. I scurried around the back side of the bureau and began to shove. "Help me Goddammit!" I shouted to no one and pushing harder. My wrists broke open and the bleeding caused me to slip, slamming my shoulder in to the hulking furniture. "Oh I'll help you Jeannie" he spat and tore at the ladder. He dashed up the rungs like lightening. I heaved once more. "C'mon C'MON! You sonofabitch!" I begged. It teetered and lunged toward him, cracking him squarely on the demented skull. He crumpled to the floor motionless. The dresser had packed itself protectively in the entrance way. I peeked at him for some time before slithering carefully down the steps and around his body. I headed for the door, pulling everything I could find into the hall: chairs, end tables, lamps, trash cans...all of it. I spied his keys and snatched them. My fingers fumbled with the locks, too shaky and tired to get it on the first try. My arms felt crammed with angry bees. I huffed and tugged childishly. He stirred and it was then I was sorry I hadn't smashed his head. I yanked the door and stepped gawking into the night. There was no light; not from passing cars or streetlamps. Trees; old and tall glared silently, refusing to even hint at the right direction. I chose to sneak around the back of the house instead of taking the direct line to the drive. I looked like a limping wallaby as I rounded the last corner and hovered in the car's shadow. I watched his silhouette stumbling in the foyer; getting caught up in the mess I'd made. I opened the door and got in, locking it a thousand times. He fired his gun and yelled for me. "Jeannie! You can't DO this!" another shot. I jammed the entire set of keys into the steering column. He sauntered out on to the porch. "Let's go you asshole COME ON!" I shouted and smacked the dash. Metal slid and there was the click. I gasped as if I'd been propositioned by the Pope himself. I turned the key. He squared up and raised the gun. "Do it Jeannie." He yelled at me, the smile dripping from his lips caused me to liquefy inside. I did it. I flashed the lights in my own farewell and nearly tore the gearshift from the column. The car shimmied, gobbling up the driveway between us. He fired at the windshield. I screamed, ducking down and turning the wheel. There was a muffled crackling as the car smashed the tree, the air bag filling his Focus with smoke and the smell of warm burlap. Glass spidered, showering my hair and face. The engine sputtered and moaned until I turned it off. I sobbed into my emergency pillow begging this nightmare to be over. He was gone. I opened the door almost stepping on his hand laying in a widening, dark pool. I jumped over it and made my way inside for the final 911 call. This was hard to write. I struggled a great deal with it but am pleased with the finished product.
Thanks for being patient. You're so good to me like that... ;)

WPS

2010-05-24T04:50:00.002-04:00

Today is a good day; we begin with a "thumper". This song is, without a doubt, one of my favorites. GC can be a little sad for me and even this one is titch on the melancholy side, but well, I'm suckah for thunder and this one? Oh yeah Baby. It has it. No matter where I am in my warrior training, this one adds a little spark. No matter how loud it is, I need this one a LITTLE louder.

Getting back on the road after a week off (weights and upper body only) I am struggling to take it easy especially with this song but I REFUSE to work out to Helen Reddy, the BeeGees or dare I say it? Barry. Nooooo. NOT THAT! hee hee. I crack me up.

Before you ask, no tires this week, my broken body can't take it; so I'm changing to the climbing portion. Let us bow our heads and pray for no rope burns.

Warriors HOOYAH!

Good Charlotte - Dance Floor Anthem (I Don't Want to Be in Love) [HQ]

2010-05-24T04:45:00.002-04:00

My Hero

2010-05-23T19:00:00.003-04:00

With Cheech away again, I've had my hands full made more difficult by my entourage. Winston and Birdie are always at my side, on my lap, or under my feet. Sometimes it's a bit much, but they are loves (most days). They protect us ferociously. Winston went above and beyond the call of duty this weekend.

I finally FINALLY got to put my flowers in my beds. Wow, I could hardly wait. My spring show-offs were done and so it was time to get set up for summer. I dug and weeded, pulled and dug some more. My back hurt, my ankle was puffy (still not healed yet but I will warrior-ize GENTLY tomorrow...) lalala...all the things that happen when you spend all afternoon in positions considered rude and awkward by even the most seasoned of yogis.

Where is this going? Well my pretties, to the garden and one of my favorite animals; the toad.
We have lots of peepers, garden variety, hippity-hoppity, wart-producing toads. Today we seemed to find more than usual. I'm sure they are just waking and coming up through the mud. It's a toady thing. Well, as I dug, I uncovered a burrow. A couple popped up and scurried off.

"Well hello." I said quickly, a little startled. I chased one, played with it for a moment and let it go. I love em.

Winston and Birdie saw me jump and began to growl and snarl. Winston's hair (what little he has) raised up as he settled on his haunches; threatening violence more severe than North Korea. A third toad made its way into view. That was it. Winston-the-wonder-dog and Birdie-the-ever-wuss pawed the door open and zoomed out into the flowerbed. Nails scratched against the porch, dirt flew as Wee proceeded to chase down one of the assailants. There was vicious growling and angry slapping. We were all surprised (no one more than Winston... "What the Hell do I do NOW? "He seemed to say). when we realized that he had unfortunately caught it; a whole mouthful of toad. Of course it peed right in Win's ole dinner bin. Now his eyes are big and buggy to begin with, but throw a nice shot of toad whiz? Lemme say here and now that dogs can communicate. There was a noise almost like a gasp. At first I thought it was Birdie laughing but she was staring at him with a snarl of shock.

"You DIDN'T!"

His jowls fell slightly..."I did..." his face read.

His mouth flew open (the toad's grand scheme) and he hacked. His head shook violently from side to side; and then there was foam. And I mean FOAM! There was more foam than I believe they would need to extinguish a jet liner on fire. He coughed and snorted. His eyes watered. And there was more foam. Birdie flipped him such a look.

"You are nothing short of gross. You buffoon" and went inside. The kids were so afraid that Winston had mauled the toad they ran off after it; grabbing one of my serving spoons and a Tupperware container. They were so very concernced that in a matter of minutes they were shooting it from their lacrosse sticks. I was left with my gagging, coughing pork sausage and piles of foam. It looked as thought the washing machine had spilled over on the porch. He continued to cough and wretch. Scooping him up, I tucked him in the sink and began rinsing his mouth with water. He looked up at me with the saddest eyes in the world.

"I love ya Buddy. You saved me." and I kissed his head. "I'm sorry he got you....You okay?"

He hacked but wagged just once. I carried him to the couch where he decided to sit at the other end...unheard of. But I waited. He eventually crawled over and snuggled in my lap. I patted his head and scratched his chest telling him how brave he was. He fell asleep.

In his puppy dreams he was running and yipping; to or from a giant toad? I don't know for sure. He wagged in his dream, his face twitching. "Good boy. You saved me." I whispered.

Who doesn't want to be a hero?

Kiss

2010-05-18T03:00:00.004-04:00

He dressed to the nines as he always did on these nights. He perfected his hair and applied just the right cologne. He smiled to himself, impressed with his looks; irresistible to himself. He practiced smiling until his hate-filled eyes softened. He muttered disgusting, filthy words until his voice purred seductively. He began to transform into an attractive man. He swiped his jacket from the front hall patting his pocket for the pills; just in case he needed them.

Depending on HER looks and performance, he might even keep her a day or two. He sighed heavily. "Probably not" he pouted. The whining, crying and begging...oh they were SUCH sad, weak creatures but they served a purpose and fulfilled his needs. His teeth ground together. He heard his pulse in this ears. His fists clenched. He was tight with anger. Whoever she was; she would be special. He could hear the club thumping all the way down the block. He found himself in step with the beat. The crowd began to thicken; filling with arrogant self-proclaimed "good guys" and then of course the girls. He grinned, feeling them give him a second or third look and whispering behind their hands to their girlfriends. The bouncer nodded crisply allowing him to enter ahead of most; shaking hands warmly and accepting the one hundred dollar bill without a glance. It seemed such a small price to pay for all his fun.

Although it was early, the bar was already crowded. He perched on a small sectional couch near the back. Sheer curtains veiled this portion of the club; reserved for VIPs. He began to hunt. Most of the women looked and acted the same. They had too much make-up or perfume and not enough clothing or class. He bored quickly, tired of watching them flip their hair too much, flick their straws with their tongues attempting to be sultry all the while braying like frightened livestock.

She came into view slowly, almost cautiously, her hair dark blonde streaked with brown, falling heavily around her face. Her dress was simpish and stood out with its tiny flowers and spaghetti straps, a thin simple chain around her bare throat; not like the off the shoulder brilliant colors and clanky huge jewelry of her competition. He watched her sidestep everyone as if she were being burned. She didn't fit. He grinned hungrily watching his new toy. He waved the waitress and after slipping her a twenty while tracing her chin with his thick fingers, she giggled, fetching his prey and a drink. His heart skipped a beat. He had chosen well.

The timid mouse sat down, a little confused. Her light eyes darting around as if she would be reprimanded for being there. Her body was trim and curvy. He made small talk, speaking softly so that she would have to move closer to him. He gulped at the soft sweet scent whirling around her. She held her drink with two hands; childishly. Her nails were painted dark; an oddity when added to her overall appearance.

The evening was a challenge. She had a seductive sideways grin but covered her mouth when she laughed. She talked little but yet didn't seem bored; more like, intrigued? Perhaps grateful. He was sure that was it. As the night darkened, he began to push her a little by softly touching her hand while he made a point. He brushed her knee or patted her thigh whispering sexy innuendos against her neck. He felt her legs shake, parting slightly and knew he was going to get what he wanted. He suggested finally that they go someplace quiet so they could talk and be away from pesky kids. She seemed embarrassed and nervous. His anticipation grew. He tried a little harder. He attempted to kiss her. She dodged him, giggling.

"Let's go." he said quietly.

"All right" she said and clutching her tiny purse, simply headed out of the club.

He was surprised but eager; tossing his money on the table and hurrying behind her. Her step was quick and sure.

"Where's your car?" she asked almost sharply.

"Do you want to drive separately?" he rested his hand on the small of her back. She pulled away and looked him squarely in the eye. He thought her eyes were green. Now they were brown almost black.

"I walked." she said flatly.

He tilted his head. She smiled and covered her mouth. His cockiness returned.

"Of course."

They said nothing on the way to his home. He let her in and fixed her a drink. The pills dissolved quickly. He put on music hearing "I gotta feeling" by the Black-Eyed Peas.
In his mind, he pictured her in the tiny room in the cellar; unable to cry for help. "Tonight's gonna be a GOOD night..." he echoed. She turned, a small cloud passing over her pale cheeks.

"Maybe this isn't a good idea." she faltered.

He stepped to her quickly. Their glasses clinking. He could feel the heat from her body. His hand found her shoulder, teasing the strap. "It's a very good idea. I'm glad you chose to come here." His mind flashed to the manacles, the ropes, the horrible wonders that awaited her.

"You are?" her voice was small, rakish. "I'm feel funny."

He kissed the top of her head. "Yes. I'm glad I chose you. I've been wanting to kiss you all night long."

He heard her snort. "Me too." He stood looking at her. His confidence somehow waning, this victorious moment failing.

She rolled her eyes up at him. They were dark endless pools. His mouth felt as if it had been crammed with lemons. His brow furrowed. He stepped back. It was too late.

"Me too. I'm glad you chose me too." and she smiled.
He recoiled, disgusted by the monster before him. His strength draining quickly to the soles of his feet like lead.

Her hair was dark blonde caked with mud. Her skin pale; almost sheer, seemed to crawl with veins or worms. Her beautiful pouty lips split her lower face in a sickening deep gash. The rot that seeped from her laugh was sweet and wreaked of death. Her gums peeling with decay were crammed full of nail like teeth and a tongue; thick and dripping, seemed to loll to the side. A guttural chuckle rumbled from the ghastly hole. Her fingers, like claws, tore into his shirt and dug into his flesh.

"How 'bout that kiss?" She pulled him close.

He began to whine, cry and beg. She chuckled. They were such weak, sad creatures but served her purpose.

His night stretched into forever; long and painful.

Inspired by my brother's work. Nightmares o-plenty. *sigh* sometimes I wish I didn't see these things....

WPS

2010-05-17T05:05:00.002-04:00

Mmmm My boys. *sigh* This is one of their cleaner songs.

Nickleback is a guilty pleasure of mine. They are my dirty boys of rock. They have some of the raunchiest, dirtiest songs I've ever heard and I know the words to every damn one. I love em. I am usually blushing like crazy while shouting along. I simply can't help myself. My kids know that they will never hear this group sing while I'm breathing and they are living in my house.

Who doesn't want to be a dirty warrior; just this one Monday....

;)

Have a good day everybody!
Hooyah!

Nickelback- Someone That You're With

2010-05-17T05:00:00.003-04:00

Soap in my eye

2010-05-12T19:00:00.002-04:00

I didn't think it was going to go this way. It all started with a little soap. Yep. I got some shampoo in my eye this morning. No big deal, right? You just rinse and go. I tried to do that all day and failed.

I needed to get in early today. I had a ton to do and little time to do it. (not different from anyone else I suppose) I got ready and raced out the door. I had no idea that it was "National Jackass on the Road Day". Had I known, I'd have put some balloons out or baked a cake OR stayed the Hell home. Wow. They sure did band together and demonstrate their pride in numbers....droves of em. My favorite was the one that decided to switch lanes after passing only half of my car. Yeah, somehow that was my fault and deserving of a bird. I did return the favor. So nice to communicate with others on such a deep level. I say this simply because I REALLY meant it!

Work was no better. I was hustling to take care of new patients as well as manage my current load. Moving along at brake neck speed, I got a call from my partner asking me to not fill a certain patient's meds. Well, of COURSE I had her finished up and had her on the shelf. I sighed and pulled her meds. These things happen. I sorted them out, put them back, cleared her stuff and kept going. I got a call from one of my nurses about another patient that was coming back to us. I waited for his med list and rushed out the door. He had a short deadline for me to get him set up (again). I can do this! I moved a little faster, that's all. The phone rang. It was my partner telling me that the patient I had just cleared wasn't really leaving. They were going to stay at least until the end of the month. This meant rebuilding what I had taken apart after building it the first time...By now, my pulse was hot in my ears. I had had enough.

But I did my time, finished my day and went home. I figured I'd burn off my frustration with a little warrior time. WROOOOONG. I got a call from school. There had been a bomb scare. The kids were shuffled onto buses while the various squads came out to investigate and the kids would be late getting home. I thought about this and after calling school, was reassured all was right in the world and they were okay. I began to warrior-ize. I would sweat this out.

The phone rang AGAIN. It was my daughter informing me that she had missed her bus during the hullabaloo and I needed to get her. Not normally a big deal, but she had to be back at school in an hour for rehearsal. I jumped in the car and fetched her.
She slouched into the seat and almost immediately burst into tears. She'd broken up with her boyfriend. We began to talk..well I listened mostly. Then HER phone rang. and it was her newly ex-boyfriend. They began to talk...again I listened. :) We made it home.

In the meantime, Winston and Birdie decided that I'd been gone too long. They held a "Pee-pee-Pallooza" in my music room. They knew they were in trouble by the weight of my footsteps. Winston looks...guilty? Scared? Both as he should. I couldn't resist the picture. He just kept running. Wonder why.... Well, "Whizzer the Magnificent" is currently serving a night's sentence in jail. His accomplice is located in a different holding cell to prevent collaboration or escape. No bail OR visitation.

Now I have to scrub rugs. Maddie is crying over her homework. Ben is telling me he FORGOT his homework but quickly reassured me he could use a pass so we wouldn't have to go back to school. It must have been the head drop and shake that gave me away.

Anyone else want a drink?

I realized I still had to feed my daughter, converging on the fridge and furiously (yep...angry chef for those of you who know)begin supper. I was ninety percent finished when she announced she wasn't hungry and would eat a graham cracker. REALLY? A graham firetrucking cracker???? Now, I read the recipes but no where did it read "when tween has shredded your last nerve and you are boiling over; remove from heat, fix drink and sit aside." Nor does it say "slap tween vigorously until sense is knocked in" I suddenly realize I am holding my breath to prevent from screaming. Maddie sags over her milk and crackers. I glance at the clock. We are late. We run for the car and drive BACK to school for rehearsal.

Mid-trip, the ex boyfriend calls again. She cries. They talk. I listen. Not really. I was singing an Eagles song ... Desperate Momma.. Oh wait Desperado. Sorry. MY phone rings. Boo is asking if he can watch tv. I know he's not finished with his homework and tell him so. He huffs and hangs up. Foiled again.

I drop off my daughter (and her boyfriend ..they are back together) and head home to the safety and sanity inside. It will be okay. I open the door and catch Boo watching tv. His homework still open on the table. He clicks off the boobtube in the hopes he has beat my vision-to-comprehension time. He is mistaken. I give him the "three" look. The color runs from his face. I shut my eyes and wander in here beginning to type before I forget that this day really happened. That happens with severe emotional trauma. You block things out. He shuffles to the table, mutters "I'm sorry." and picks up his pencil.

As I edit this, I can't help shaking my head. A tear wells up. Maybe from frustration. Maybe it's just soap.
Ahhh My Lovelies. I hope your day went better. If not, giggle and point and be thankful it wasn't you. Better days. Thanks for coming.

wps

2010-05-10T10:05:00.003-04:00

And so today began obstacle training. I had to put it off with my screwed up ankle. I confess that there is a sense of intrepidation. I hope I don't hurt myself; my coordination isn't very good. ;) But we've all received encouragement from the boys sponsoring the event:

How great warriors prepare:

1. Open a can of tuna with your teeth

2. Do squats with your office water jug

3. Skip packing a lunch--just bring a slingshot

4. Curl gallons of milk at the grocery store

5. Before driving to work, try a barrel roll over your car

Hooyah!

Finger Eleven - Paralyzer - [Them vs You vs Me]

2010-05-10T10:00:00.003-04:00

2010-05-09T10:39:00.005-04:00

Is it a day for rest after working so hard? Perhaps. I prefer to remember:

When my daughter toddled into the music room and ate dirt from the plants as if it were Ghiradelli chocolate ... and I took pictures instead of getting mad.

Or when she taught herself how to open the sliding door, leaving me alone more terrified than any movie I've seen only to find her picking "wishing flowers" and being covered in the snowy little dandelion puffs, thinking she was the most beautiful angel in the world.

I remember when my son crawled on top of my vanity and painted his chubby little body with every ounce of facial cleanser I had just purchased. He became a gooey snowball and I laughed until the tears came.

Or when we played hide and seek and he tucked away in the cupboard under the sink until I was racing through the house screaming with anxiety, frightened that he'd "taught himself how to unlock the slider"... He emerged the ecstatic victor with the bubbly words "I weeeeeen Mommy!"

The days of "You're a stinky mom!" and "That's not FAIR!" or lying awake rehashing and regretting my cross words or brandishing my own iron clad "law of the land".

The countless nights spent listening for them if they were sick or staying awake, next to them, talking softly through their nightmares until it was over and my alarm went off.

Hounding them to say please and thank you, sit up straight, get their elbows off the table until I couldn't end a sentence without one of those reminders: Did you have a good day?-elbows down. I was busy-don't talk with your mouth full. Please pass the potatoes-chew with your mouth closed.

I remember worrying that I was doing this parent thing all wrong until the day I furiously ripped up carpet from the flood in my basement and there they stood on the bottom step with garden gloves, trash bags and the words "Can we help?"

I remember hitting my knees begging God to help me out this ONCE because I just couldn't take another step...and feeling the tiny hands touch my shoulders, kissing my head and whispering "Don't cry Mommy, we'll get there."

I love to remember the laughter...at the dinner table until Daddy threatens to punish us all; or at night tickling feet with jammies on and the smell of soap hanging heavily in the air, especially after a hard day simply because it feels better than crying.

Most importantly, I remember what I love:

Being their mom.

I hope you enjoy your day.

Wishful Thinking

2010-05-07T03:04:00.002-04:00

A little warmer than the others. Have a nice weekend.

The last traces of sunlight faded into the night sky. The fire snapped;
embers escaping like fireflies. The lake sauntered carelessly to the shore
in quiet peaceful laps. They sat in silence, lost in the serenity of the
moment and each other’s company. Her neighbors had made a good selection in
Dave Koz and Miles Davis. Soft trumpets and sax floated throught the trees. She sighed contentedly.

“More wine?” he asked startling her a little.

“mmm no. Better not. I feel it already.”

He poured anyway. She smiled. He rested behind her, his arms dangling across her knees as she sat cross-legged in front of him. They talked about music and their jobs. They laughed about kids. The breeze picked up. She settled against him, sipping her wine, staring into the fire; enjoying the heat from both. His thumbs trailed small circles around the backs of her knees. It drove her crazy. He felt her shiver just a little.

“Cold?” but he knew she wasn’t. She grinned.

“No. That feels good.”

“Oh?”

He nuzzled her hair and kissed the nape of her neck. Her head tilted just a little and she giggled.

“And that?” he whispered.

“Tickles.”her shoulders shrunk up as she said it.

He could feel her smiling. “I’ll stop...” he teased and pulled away.

“You don’t have to.” Her voice was small; a little husky.

She took his hands and pulled him closer.He kissed her again; his lips barely touching her shoulders, dipping to lightly brush along her back. This was another weak spot for her. She couldn't think. The goose bumps scattered along her spine and down her arms. She sighed heavily; her back straightening just a little. Still holding his hands she moved them along her thighs, her muscles tightening with a growing want. His kiss became a little rougher, his tongue tasting the combination of her lotion and the salt of her skin. His hand lay across her belly, pulling playfully at her thin sweater.

“It’s in my way…Lil Miss.”

“I think I agree.” She laughed and began to unbutton it. His hands stopped her;quickly plucking at the pearl buttons himself. She twisted under his touch as he smoothed her skin, unhooked her bra, cupping her breasts. Her nipples instantly responded to him. Her breath hitched in her throat. She reached up over her head stretching beautifully against him. She moaned softly.

The fire hissed. They didn’t hear it. It popped. They were oblivious. She rose to her knees, turning to see him. She held his chin in her hands, tracing its angles with her small fingers. He looked at her. Her eyes were bright and intense as they studied him. At first he thought he saw doubt cloud her pretty face, but if it was there, it vanished the instant she touched his lips with hers. He liked almost tasting the wine on her mouth and tongue. Her kiss was searching, growing more insistent. He pulled away, nuzzling her collarbone. She leaned back into his arms. His lips whispered against her flesh; his tongue curiously, slowly tracing the curves of her body. She purred his name. He glanced to see her bite her lip, her eye closed, her brow furrowed.

“Tell me.” He said. His hands hesitated at the waist of her shorts. She kissed his forehead.

“Please.” She whispered craddling his body with her own.

“Please what.” He teased between kisses. The feel of his warm breath on her skin made her shake.

“Touch me.”

She did not have to ask twice. His hands traced her shape, carefully stroking her. She shuddered, her voice a quiet moan. She clung to him, her body tight and slick.

Miles Davis trickled in the background slowly fading out as the rain began. They ignored it until the drops came large and steady, soaking them. The two scrambled up the yard to the porch. The air smelled of Queen Anne’s lace and sweet summer. Their clothes clung to their bodies. They stood watching for a moment. She shivered.

“Now I think I’m cold.” She laughed.

She raked her hair back. A raindrop dripped off her nose. She looked up at him, admiring the way his shirt hugged his body. He looked good wet; to her he was perfect. She stood up on her toes and kissed him gently, her arms girlishly wrapping around him. Her body was overheating. She needed to touch him. Cautiously, she dropped her hands, feeling the strength of his body. Her heart thumped in her chest, she had trouble catching her breath without whimpering softly. She wanted to kiss him and drive him to the sensual edge where she already teetered.

He leaned in to her touch, his own breath escaping in a sigh. His lips were firm, his mouth becoming eager. He bent slightly, lifting her up on to the porch rail. He nudged her knees apart with his hips, not being able to be close enough to her. He moaned when she tugged his pants past his hips; her hand coyly stroking his body. His skin burned at the thought of her. Their foreheads leaned together, their breathing becoming united and quick. He pulled at her shorts more forcefully.

She quickly wiggled out of them. He explored her slowly, tenderly as if she might break. He felt her body tense with anticipation, she panted softly against his shoulder.

“Oh God. I want you. Please.” Her voice was small, almost begging. She pushed against him. Her hands gently guided his hips, he felt her relax and take him all in. He watched her lick her lips and felt her move with him. She kissed the hollow of his neck. He felt her teeth on his flesh, quickly changing to a hard kiss. His rhythm became longer, more urgent. She was close. He could hear her breath becoming jagged, his own matched it. The heat of her body made him weak. He felt his muscles burning, he arched against her.

She cried out, her legs tightening around him, he pushed hard, electricity crawling quickly through his body. She gasped; her body quivering. Sweat pricked at his back. He felt her fingernails lightly scratch at him. Her body slowed, her kiss softened. He gently tasted her mouth, letting her body go. He cupped her face and looked at her again. His thumbs tracing her cheeks, flushed with passion. She turned and caught his finger with her lips kissing it, gently slowly running her tongue along it as if it were covered in cake batter. He felt his body surge again.

He smiled and whispered to her. "Be careful what you wish for little girl. You just might get it."
Her eyes flashed. "Bockity bock bock. He says."

She took his hand and led him inside. They pulled at each others' wet clothes, leaving them on the floor; content to lie together under the large black velvet blanket. She snuggled against him, dozing peacefully. The rain continued to applaud them from outside.

WPS

2010-05-03T13:25:00.002-04:00

This one? Well, if it BEGINS my warrior training you should know that my pony tail is bobbing non-stop, I'm all but dancin through the course. If it's at the end? My adrenaline surges and I dig deep, my body usually hating me afterward. This has a lot thumpin...perhaps that is due to the volume...nah...

we all have weaknesses.

WARRIORS HOOYAH!

Telephone Lyrics - Lady Gaga Ft. Beyonce

2010-05-03T13:18:00.002-04:00

I Love Bunnies

2010-05-02T19:00:00.003-04:00

She folded and unfolded her arms practicing postures that would be the least defensive or intrusive. The footsteps in the hall made her swallow again, her throat feeling jammed full of cotton swabs. She envisioned him coming down the steps . She hoped she could find words. The man opened the large heavy door allowing her to glimpse the marble foyer but blocked her entrance laying his hand on the knob.

”Yes?”
“Mr. Hoops? We spoke on the phone? I first wanted to thank you for this opportunity.”
She completed the introduction at her childhood home forcing her eyes to stay focused on the man’s face rather than darting around and gulping the new and different details of the decor around her. He hesitated and so she rushed on.

“I promise I won’t take long. I just need…WANT to see something. Please. It’s very important to me. I think it will help you. ” She reached out touching the glass and felt the spark. The house stirred.

He pulled back as if he’d felt it too. “I suppose no harm. It can't be worse.” and he invited her in.

The mouth gaped happily and she was swallowed by her past. For just a moment, the floor shivered as she stepped in. Her head swam, forcing her to close her eyes and spread her feet to regain balance.

“You all right?” Cautiously the stranger touched her elbow.
She smiled softly as the breeze fluffed her hair. She inhaled deeply while her memories come roaring in.
“The mural. It’s been redone. How lovely.” She pointed to her left, where now a huge mirror shined proudly in the afternoon sun. “May I?”
“Be my guest.” He bowed, stepping back and she marched on without confusion. She gave the owner a tour.
“Down here in this room – ahh still storage. I begged for this to be my room. Laundry…we kept it bare. It looks much better with the tile.” She wandered slowly giving him historical facts about the house: the marble deck and how it had almost torn the house in half, the way it was built into a hill with doors on every floor to accommodate the wheelchair bound original mistress of the house, the cemetery at the rear of the yard; sorely abused and forgotten that was home to an ancient bees nest as well as the town’s founding fathers. She entertained him with stories of the creek off to the east of the property and the ghost story about the tiny room under the stairs.
She laughed about the carpets being neutral now instead of the angry basil or murderous red she had grown up with and the painful Spanish stucco that had snagged hundreds of sweaters and torn at the flesh on her arms if she brushed against it. Absently she touched a couple of scars. The tour of the lower floor was over. It was time to head upstairs. She paused at the upper staircase, her hand becoming shaky and sweaty. The not so new owner gave her room as she mounted the steps. A wind rapped at the walls and hissed through the screens. He gazed at the visitor uneasily.
“May I? I know that the bedrooms are this way…” but she was already gone, passing her brother’s room and the sprawling bathroom they’d shared, the linen closets, stopping at her old bedroom. She closed her eyes and waited. Nothing. Only one place left. She turned slightly and stood in the doorway, touching the gouge that could never be fixed. The gurney that stole her dead mother had snapped a moment from the wall. She plucked the digital recorder from her bag.

“I’m here now.” She said.

The man left her alone in her mother’s room.
“ Do you like what they’ve done? It’s beautiful here. Can you see me?”
She paced slowly envisioning the placement of furniture and remembering details. “You’ve been angry. Why? They love this house Mom. Like you did. Like I did.” She saw the breeze lift the curtains. “You shouldn’t be mean. You don’t like them? Don’t you want to…”

“Don’t make this worse. Please. This was a mistake.”
“But..”
“Please. This was a mistake. Go now. “ He was rubbing his arms as if he were buried in ice.
The wind slammed a door down the hall. She was here.
“Hurry. Please." he said again, leaving her in the room.
Tears sprung into her eyes. Her mouth was full of sobs and despair but no words. A hot anvil filled her chest sending her crashing to her knees. Her mouth twisted in a silent sob as her breath hitched painfully in her lungs. She rocked back and forth hugging herself. Then there was a single whisper choked with recognition and sorrow.
“Momma.”
The tears ran, escaping in a rush of hot dismay. “See me!” she screamed in her head. “I don't have much time! ” She felt as if she were ending a phone call too quickly. She panicked, needing to say more; about her life, her husband, her precious bunnies who were growing up too fast. "PLEASE!" She begged, the thought so intense it seemed to shake her brain, making her exhausted. As she cried, she realized her breath was visible.
“Miss?” he urgently called from down the hall.

“Yes of course. Coming.” She looked dazed now. The room seemed to tilt and expand. She felt tiny.
“Goodbye Momma. I’m leaving. You can come with me if you want.” And she turned brushing passed the scar and picking a piece of the old door jam pocketed her morose trophy.
The room was still. The house settled around her pouting and frumpish. She thanked him and apologized.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help. I had to try. I hope your home settles.” She touched his arm and clamped the splinter of wood. She pulled her coat around her and got into her car. Her breath was a pant. More tears hurt and dejected streaked her cheek. “I love you Momma”

She drove the nine hours home not remembering much of her experience.
It was a month before the digital recorder beeped full. She poured glass of wine, kissed her bunnies goodnight and spun it on the table. She clicked and erased messages and defunct personal memos. Then she reached the white noise that spoke. She drained her glass in one gulp, playing it over and over. The volume went up and she transferred the clips, cleaning them up on her program. The hair on her arms stood icily at attention.

“Don’t go.” it whispered

Her muscles tingled.

“I’m leaving. Come with me.” She remembered standing in the doorway hopeful to hear something that day.

“Wait I’m coming.”
She clicked it off and went to her pocket, pulling the old splinter.
“Silliness” she muttered but she couldn’t stop herself. “Mom? Are you here? Did you see my bunnies? Welcome to my home. To my life.”

Silence, but a breeze warm and soft comforted her. She breathed deeply. The house creaked and settled into the night. She strained her ears to listen and finally succumbed to her fatigue. As she dozed, the recorder slowly spun on the table. In the morning the first of many conversations began on that recorder.

“I love bunnies.”

2010-05-02T13:39:00.000-04:00

The risk of census-ing

2010-05-01T15:21:00.004-04:00

This one is quick and dirty. I didn't make it up, it was relayed to me by a couple of different people ( all common friends) and it only got funnier each time I heard it. I hope you enjoy it:

There is a woman with a child who has special needs. Although he can stay home alone (at the age of 17 or so), his mental faculties prevent him from functioning at full tilt.

SO

She went to work and never thought twice.

He called her at work with a simple message:

"I put the troll in the closet."

She played along. "All right Honey. That's a good place if it bothers you."

A while later she received another call and although this was unusual, she dismissed their conversation.

"Mom, the troll is thirsty."

"Well, I'll be sure and take care of it when I get home Sweetie."

The third call however, made her pause.

"Mom, the troll is hungry."

She mentioned this to a couple of coworkers who advised her to run home "just in case".

She pulled up the drive and walked in. The first thing she saw was the coat closet. It had been propped closed with a dining room chair.

"What's this?"

"The troll"

She unblocked the door and was mortified for inside was a midget. Her son had trapped a midget. Apparently, the small statured gentleman was working for the census and the young man never having seen a midget became frightened, wrestled him to the ground and stuffed him in the closet. During the struggle, the worker's cellie dropped from his pocket and so he was unable to call for help.

She quickly helped the man up and out of his prison to make him more comfortable (and to explain). He did not press charges.

I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.
I imagine our young man just picking that poor lil census worker right up under his arm and tossing him in there with the ole "Heave HO!" OR did he see him coming up the walk and sneak around to surprise him? OHhhh the giggling and pointing.....I feel comfortable doing that since no one was hurt.

Pardon me for brevity...giggly tears are blurring my vision.
Happy weekend.

SAVE MY PLACE

2010-04-28T05:30:00.003-04:00

SAVE MY PLACE

She paced nervously as time crawled painfully by. She realized now, she could no longer remember the last time she slept; really slept. Since he’d left? Before? Worry pinched inside her chest. She sadly thought of how he’d had sand for a blanket and bombs for an alarm clock all these months. It weighted her heart heavily, but soon it wouldn't matter. Soon she could sleep. Her fingers wrestled each other wanting only to hold him. Sweaty hands. Dry lips. Each time the door opened she gasped, straining to see him. One more tear collected, blurring her vision of him. She was terrified she’d not see him first. Selfishly that was what she craved. She ached to meet his eyes and smile deep within them; where no one else could hear their conversation. His mother touched her arm and said something. She laughed but never took her gaze from that door. That damn barrier to her whole life.

He walked quickly with determined steps. He felt caged in this little room. He could hardly breathe. After all the time spent sucking sand into his face and lungs, he found the Airwick air freshener choking and sickening. He hadn’t slept. His mind was filled with anxiety. Was she all right? He’d asked her to move and then he’d left her all alone with his babies. He felt the burn of guilt. Soon, it wouldn’t matter. He’d be able to hold her face and see her beautiful eyes. His weight shifted from foot to foot. The door screamed open and more soldiers wandered out into the freedom they were fighting for. He craned his neck to see her. In all the weeks of missing her, these last minutes had become the most grueling. He heard her laugh; like music. He found himself jumping above his brothers to see her.
There! She saw him. Was he jumping? Her feet began to move, she began weaving through strangers. Her heart was thudding in her chest. Her arms folded in and she pulled them up almost in a stretch. The room felt too small for her tall slim frame. She kept pushing. She refused to get lost in this sea of happiness. Family trailed behind, tasting the anticipation.

Finally the squeak was for him. It was his door. The group surged forward eagerly; wanting to touch the hero, welcome him home. He heard none of it. His eyes caught hers. Her smile stretched across her pretty face and then tears came. All of them: relief, joy and the hottest ones reserved for the fear she'd had to eat day in and day out until this moment when she could see and feel that he was safe and they would be whole again; a whole marriage, a whole family.
His relatives consumed him, swallowing his form, patting his back, hugging and laughing. Over them he reached, touching the softest skin he’d ever felt. Hers. She finally unfolded her arms up and over the family’s heads. The heat of her touch burned him like the dessert sun never had. Her hand fumbled but locked with his fingers. He whiffed her light perfume and saw the curves of her body under her clothes. He wanted to hold them, kiss them, and memorize her all over again.
When finally he held her, the pain, fear and moments of weariness flowed from her freely, his arms encircled her, protected her, promising love and rediscovery when the party was over. She felt herself flush with joy. She breathed deeply smelling salt and sand. She cupped his face and tasted his mouth.
Around his legs came a tight grip. His own tears fell as he knelt to hold his daughters; his babies. He stroked their hair as if it were fragile gold thread. It was longer now. They giggled and tattled on each other. It was the best news and some of the most important things he could remember hearing in weeks until she said it in his ear.
“I love you.”
He breathed in every syllable and clasped her hand more tightly.There were the tiny echoes

“I love you Daddy!”
Her sister was quick to follow. “I love you too!”
“You only said it ‘cause I did.”
“Did not”
“Did too.”
“Did…”
“Daaaaaaddyyyy!”
His wife shrugged and rolled her eyes. “Nothing’s changed.”
He laughed and wiped his eyes; proud, happy and satisfied. That hadn’t taken long at all. They had saved his place in the family. He was where he belonged.

May God bring him home to us as soon as possible. We miss him. Your strength and resilience is humbling. I love you both.
Tess

WPS

2010-04-25T22:45:00.003-04:00

So here we are. I was going to log on and post one last week but I got caught up in my vacation. Literally. I am very proud that I found my way out. If you know me, you will agree.

At the end of the week after fantastic golf and pampered trail walks, I decided to beef up the warrior training. We were spending our final days up at Promises so I thought nothing about heading into the woods. Now remember, we're approaching May and I'm gearing up for obstacle addition to my routine. (Heaven help me!!!) So I though "No time like the present." I trudged off into the wilderness with my weights. I was cruising at a good clip and feeling good. I'm a tough warrior. hooyah! It only took one loose rock. I was moving along and felt it give under my tromping determined feet. My arms shot up struggling to catch something and save my fall. It didn't happen. I crashed to the ground, hearing a thick pop as my ankle twisted. Oh yeah. Heat spidered up my leg and grabbed my knee. I was lying in the weeds with dirt and dust poofing excitedly around me and rocks needling my back. The tears hesitated until I saw the swelling start and felt the pulsing in my shoe. I got nervous. I was more than two miles from home. The trees seemed to close in around me, curious about this whimpering little person in the dirt. I think I heard them snickering.

I believe there is a show about this...Survivor Man? The prospect of having to build a fire here in the wilderness and sleeping under ferns or burrowing beneath a rotting tree with chipmunks and black ants was unappealing to say the least. Yeah sure, I know HOW to catch a crawdad out of the creek but it doesn't mean I want to EAT one unless it's in a Louisiana Po Boy in a RESAURANT! I sat for a bit, looking around realizing I had no choice. I rolled around in the dirt and propped myself up on a higher rock, recovered a stick and began to trudge along the creek bed. When that ran out, I was fortunate enough to see power lines up at the top of the mini mountain and so began to walk toward them. After about forty-five minutes I reached a gravel path within half an hour, I discovered the main road. I headed home looking like a beat up hobo, with my do-rag, my walking stick/crutch and my weights which did I mention were canned veggies? Oh yeah, did I draw some looks from the drivers-by. I finally crossed the bridge near our lake and made my way home. I hobbled up the porch and called out. Staggering through the door, Cheech took one look and scooped me up. The kids flew around the house gathering slippers, ice packs, pillows and ibuprofen. The dogs barked with alarm and ran away with my leaf covered socks. We marveled at the bruise-y rainbow painting its way up my leg. The purples were deep almost black and the blues were the color of midnight with a couple of greens. Fabulous. I don't think this is what they mean by "My body is a canvas...".

No worries. I am a strong stubborn warrior and I have sprained my ankle more times than I've visited spas. Better days my lovies. I'm sorry there are no photos of my adventure. Imagine black pants littered with leaves. My hair matted with sweat and fleck with twigs and a couple of dead bugs. Dirt smudges across my freckled cheeks and oh yeah an ankle the size of an F150 truck tire. Oh yes. I am a vision.

Hooyah.
Thanks for laughing along. I found this song more than approriate.

Barry Manilow - It's a Miracle

2010-04-25T22:30:00.003-04:00

2010-04-25T09:06:00.003-04:00

Home stretch guys. I'm on my last day of travel. I'm tired but have had a great time. I'm looking forward to sharing some great stories and your wonderful company. Thanks for checking in on me. I'll see you tonight or early in the morning.

I missed you.
Tess

2010-04-19T19:42:00.001-04:00

I am travelling again. i'm looking forward to some wonderful sun, fabulous company and plenty of rest.

I'll do my best to get back here. I miss our visits :) but golf IS calling and I may have to answer.

See you soon.

Tessa

Sausage casing

2010-04-17T18:58:00.003-04:00

I have been busting my arse these last few weeks and have a long way to go until October. I've been a diligent and dedicated warrior. I've watched my body change for the better, but STILL I hated what I was about to do: shop for swim suits.

Could there be a worse task? Hmmm for me only if I had to do it in a grocery store.

I picked through and found a couple that were truly adorable; cute little polka dots and these neat little tie up bottoms. How fun! They made me smile. I walked into the dressing room with a heavy sigh. Now the yuck part: bad lighting smudgy mirrors...if I were any more pale I'd be translucent.

I began to put them on. This of course requires the wiggle, shimmy dance and hoist. I found it to be more strenuous than anticipated. The tag read "Secretly slimming" yeah, well, there were no secrets here. I looked like an overstuffed sausage: painfully overstuffed...like one that's been left on the grill too long and the skin is about to burst open. I had actually broken into a sweat; my body so red and itchy I felt as if I'd crawled through a tunnel of steel wool. Holy crap! What's WRONG here? I checked the tag and saw my size...but there was NO WAY I was buying this suit. In fact, I was panicking about how to get out of it without cutting it. You've heard of muffin top? Let's just say it looked like I'd crammed the whole damn bakery around my middle. I think I had back boobs What the Hell? WITH CLEAVAGE??? Give me a firetrucking BREAK!

The tears filled my eyes. I'd never felt so ugly in all my life. All the work, all the careful eating all the....it was bullshit. Forget the race. I'm not going. I stifled my sob with my shirt and pried myself from the suffocating sheath of teensy polka dots that I had managed to stretch into blurry Frisbees. I looked like fluorescent angry Swiss cheese. Jesus God. There was shame. Dirty embarrassed shame. Hideous. I hid my body in my clothes and placed the offensive article on the rack. I looked up and read the sign. My smile grew and grew.

They had put the rack of JUNIOR swimsuits in with the real ones. Maybe I should have known by the Dora and Disney Princess suits hanging in the back...Ya think?

Cautiously I picked up a new batch of prospects. I confess I was nervous. But to my relief, I actually got to pick a size smaller than anticipated; and you know what? I look mighty fine; rather well put together for a warrior. Race? I'm there. Gimme that hat! I turned sideways and pranced YES pranced in my little swimsuit world. I looked over my shoulder, pouted at my butt and took two... because they were small. :)

Whew. Close one. It WAS funny...after the fact. Thanks for laughing with me.

The best kind of busy

2010-04-14T18:47:00.001-04:00

I promised a little exciting news. For me, it's nothing short of a dream come true.

I'm going to be in print. I know! If you were here, I'd be squeezing your hand or hugging you with happy tears racing down my cheeks while laughing "Can you beLIEVE it???" Somebody open champagne!

I have a wonderful partner in crime (You've probably seen him...Steve..we tromp through each other's blogs regularly) who is helping me (already has beyond belief) by taking pictures; amazing, fantastic pictures; so it is an artistic collaboration of sorts. OOOO~ How SNOOTY does THAT sound?? It started as a joke; but the more we talked and schemed, the more plausible and sensible it became and so here we are.

Believe it or not, there aren't words to describe how happy I am. When I think of it or work on it; editing until my fingers ache, my heart heats up and swells. I look at my work like it is a fascinating new bug: Will anyone like it? Will anyone see what I meant them to see? Sometimes it makes me queezy. Most times, I cry a little at the prospect of accomplishing something I never thought I would. Silliness.

I remember going to my first writer's class. I was terrified, but wrote about it, sending it to some good friends. The responses were overwhelmingly positive. I want to say to those who've waited, watched and pushed ~thank you. THANK YOU. I couldn't have done it without all the encouragement and kind words. I can hardly wait to show it to you. To think that my work will be in black and white for all to see...wow. Even if only my folks buy it; because they have to. I think it's like those ash trays we all made in art camp. They'll display it proudly and pound their chests: "My kid did that"

So this little warrior has been busy and will be; the best kind of busy.

I'll be sure to keep you in the loop: release dates, book signings....as much as I can. :)lol.

Whatcha know about that...a writer.
FABULOUS

See you soon.

WPS

2010-04-12T09:05:00.004-04:00

Aahh THIS week? Yep Spike, this one's for you. It's my fav. This is what we call
"Cookie Monster Music". Just listen for a moment and you'll understand. It simply removes all thought and jams scratchy, thumping tones into your head making you want to thump right along. I always smile and envision an angry Blue Fuzzy waltzing around on stage kicking over amps and smashing stuff:

"C is for cookie and that's good enough for me! Dammit!" LOL

Head banging occurs frequently but no one has seen ME do this.
*wink nudge*

We've all got a wild side. I rarely get those leather studded necklaces out anymore... and I put fur along the rims of my handcuffs...prevents chaffing. hee hee jes kiddin...

This week = gritty warrior

HOO-yah!

2010-04-12T09:00:00.002-04:00

Soggy success

2010-04-11T19:00:00.003-04:00

Nothing lasts forever except for Herpes and taxes so I truly wasn’t surprised when the sump pump went out at Promises.

We’ve had record rains here in this spring; drowning old records by two inches or more. Promises has done its best to compete. I found out the hard way. I wandered up to relax a little. Needing to open up the house, I descended the scariest basement steps known to man. They are wooden, warped, muddy and remind me that I am due for a horror story soon. My friend has pointed out that Kathy Bates would find it “charming”. With its bilco doors, it reminds me of a 1950’s bomb shelter complete with musty walls, metal cupboards and old area rugs. Bangin place for a party if you are a member of the undead. There is a mini fridge (that worked at one time) down there and a few tools. Trust me when I tell you we won’t be worried about redecorating anytime soon. I kind of like the Adam’s family creepy look. (snap*snap)

I could feel the rush of water and smell the beginnings of must. CRAP! I checked the crock and sure enough the little engine that should ….could NOT. It was floating helplessly at the bottom like a dead minnow.
Looking at me, you would instantly think I could rip out plumbing, re-pipe it in only a matter of moments…hahahhaha I crack me up. I went to the hardware store and began to research. I found a little doo-dad that looked like my thing-a-ma-jig and bought some whatcha-callits. I was good to go and set to work. Right on the box printed in forty different languages was the assurance it was easy to install. I simply needed some... uhhhh...doo-dads and some whatcha-callits. Good. I felt confident. I got out my hack saw, philips head screw driver (and my flat head-just in case) and spread out all over my porch to build a functioning sump pump. If you’ve been through this, you know that truly, it is a matter of a couple of screws, some hosing, a break valve with some clamps; MAYBE some PVC piping, but not a lot. (Didn’t think I’d come out with all THAT didja? Ha. The lingo came with my tool belt. I’m in the tool of the month club …April was a set of drill bits. Exciting I know. Don’t be jealous. It doesn’t look good on you)

I rolled up my bibbi-overalls and waded in. The water was not deep, just enough to make my shoes squeak. I squatted down and began to operate. I pulled the life line of the dead one and discovered that we had been lucky. This thing was incredibly old and covered with sediment. I’m sure the previous owners never touched it. Of course not. It was dirty. I pulled the hosing off, and replaced all with shiny new ones. I fastened the seatbelts and stepped up to the plug. Now, it’s just a thing I have; a tiny fear that if I’m standing in water, I’m wet and I go to plug something in….there might be more than a whiff of ozone and a few sparks. I was alone and so the thought of not being discovered for decades crossed my mind:
“EWWW what IS that?”

“I don’t know…looks like a ….plumber? See the tool belt and pipes?”

“Hmmmm Wonder what happened?”

“Maybe there was electricity and water and…bzzzZAP. Smells kinda crunchy down here dontcha think?”

“Yeah. Let’s close the doors and run away.”

“I’m with you.”

But this did not happen. In fact, nothing happened. I said a few choice words along the lines of “Firetruck” and “Kiss my lily white ass” and began demanding that the newest resident of the bomb shelter needed to begin fitting in with all the OTHER working appliances if he wanted to stay around.

Be careful what you ask for because you just might get it.

There was a tiny click but my face lit up like I’d won the lottery….then there was a WHOOOOOSH and the sound of the thickest milkshake in the world being sucked through a bendy straw. “THIIIRRRRRLP-SSSSSLUUUURP!” The water began to disappear, sort of. I had failed to see that the discharge pipe had a v-split in it. I was sucking it up and pumping right back into the crock as fast as the little ½ HP could go. DAMMIT! I was getting hosed down big time. I yanked the plug and stood there covered in frigid muddy water. FABULOUS.

I knelt down and began to tinker. I capped what I had to, putting everyone back together. Like Frankenstein, I hesitated at the point of contact, the moment of truth, said a little prayer and replugged. My insane Dairy Queen milkshake maker roared to life; water disappeared for good. I do confess that I laughed like crazy and did the bull dance. It was a accompanied by a hearty “Weee HOOO!” Still squealing and grinning, I dashed up the steps, around the porch, down the yard to where it spits out. Sure enough, I’d done it.

I cleaned up my toys and put them away. Sitting in front of my bon fire that evening, I kicked at a stone in my fire pit. I began considering a little masonry. Next month’s tool? Chisels.
I hope you had a good day. Thanks for stopping here to visit.

2010-04-07T17:24:00.004-04:00

I will be away for a few days. I have a friend in town and we are heading up to promises. Then I am flying to see my parents (after travelling to one of Cheech's bbq competitions...SO much to share!!!). I also have some exciting news but we'll wait until we're all a little less busy and can chat a bit.

I'll miss you but will be back in a couple of days.
Be good to yourself. You're the best friend you have.

Love,
Tess

WPS

2010-04-05T17:57:00.004-04:00

This song cracks me up EVERY TIME I hear it. But it gets me moving (you know how I love thump and thunder....) And as a dedicated warrior; that's what we do. Right? Ohhhh MAN what wouldn't I do for a big fatty cheeseburger, a MALT or maybe just some cake. Damn warriors. I'm just gonna go online and buy my stupid hat....no....I'll go and turn the volume up. I just try not to think of the video: sparkly make up and spinny things make feel sick. And MY hat is WAAAAAAAY cooler or it WILL be!

Not a very inspirational beginning to my week.
Be strong little warrior; better days lie ahead.

hoo-yah.

2010-04-05T17:56:00.002-04:00

2010-04-03T12:10:00.004-04:00

Happy Easter!

Safe travels and I hope you enjoy your friends and families.

Cheers to thawing out after a long winter.

Pulled Punches

2010-04-01T15:46:00.004-04:00

I had to make the phone call and I was shaking at the mere thought of it. It felt as if my life's blood was draining and pooling onto the floor of my car. My muscles tingles as I dialed.

Finally he picked up. The words stuck in my throat but only for a minute and then they were rushing from my mouth in a huge breath. I think I spat on my dashboard.

" 'Lo?"

"I've been on the phone with school. Benjamin has gotten into a fight."

Now this is our first "bout" (pun intended) with this. My son is a gentle, kind boy. He would NEVER hurt anyone. Being as small as he is, has made him although tough, careful not to do what's been done to him. This came as a shock to Cheech.

"Say again?"

I continued, my mouth dry, tears almost filling it.

"I got a call from school. Benjamin clocked some kid on the bus this morning."

"Whyyyyy...."

I fought to find the right words, to get the vision some JUSTIFICATION out there.

"He had to change this morning. He got breakfast all over his shirt. He put on his pink dress shirt and tie. Ohhh he looked so nice ( Now to interrupt: this is my son's decision. He loves to dress like his father and when you consider his long (er) blonde hair? Every day he dresses this way. I love him so. He IS the cat's meow) ANYWAY, he got on the bus and you know that kid ****?"

"Nope."

"Well, there's this kid **** and he has picked on Ben since ....since always." I am hurrying, trying to not miss a beat but cut to the chase. I can feel Cheech's temper through my phone.
"I guess, today, when Boo got on the bus, **** called him a fag and yanked his tie. But before he could let go of it, Ben popped him right in the face. (I tried not to giggle because the thought brought a smile to my face.

"So this kid has been asking for it." Cheech was thinking hard. He was torn. You have to stand up for yourself...but....

"Miss @@@@@@ saw it and so when they pulled into school, he was escorted off the bus. He's in the Vice Principal's office. We have to drive him until the end of the school year. I'm going there now."

"I'll meet you." his voice was short, crisp and full of "Dad". Is that authority? Is it anger? I don't know because I'm not one, but ...you know what that sounds like???? Yeah, you do.

"You don't have to. I can do it." I began again.

"I will. I want to see him."

"You don't."

" I'll do. Be fair, Baby Jane. This is serious. Besides, I wanna see the damage to the OTHER kid."

"No. You don't. You can't go." I raised my voice.

"That's crazy. Why not?"

"Because it's April Fools Day."

I tried to hold it in, but I'll confess. I snorted. I could hear his face: his jaw dropping. His eyes rolling back into his head. and then....yes, a smile. I was ROOOOOOOOLLLLING.

"I got you! I got you SOOOOO good! AAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! Oh! My stomach hurts. Oh stop. Can't AHHHHAHAHAHAHHAHA!"

and if you know me, you know how this went; I had a laughing fit. I sat in my car and laughed until I thought I'd run out of air. I had pulled into work by this time and watched him stare me down. I parked and wiped my eyes. I got out on giggly knees and smoothed my skirt. There is always a price to pay for having fun.

"Hoooo. Boy. Good times eh?" and I began to laugh again. Didn't lose control, but was hee-hawin it up.

"Hoo Boy. You bet." He was loading flowers for Easter delivery. A service man was walking behind him asking for a signature.

"Here's your flower for Easter." He held out a pretty lil thing. I reached for it.

"Awww Honey, Thank you so much. I'm sorry if..."

And in one swoop he turned and placed it in the hands of the serviceman. "Enjoy it. For her." and he left me on the porch.

I'd like to think it's over. That I was had. But in all honesty, I struck the match and blew on the burning fuse. He has the bomb.

to be continued I'm sure....

I hope you laughed today. Thank you for coming to see me. I enjoy our visits.

The Ataris - Boys of Summer Music Video

2010-03-29T16:39:00.009-04:00

2010-03-29T16:39:00.008-04:00

WPS
Boys of Summer~The Ataris.

I know. I know. It's not Don, but it keeps me moving, with a big "Hell Yeah!" At this rate, I'll be ready to begin obstacles in May. ( I hope.) Anyone want to wager that it's me who gets their pants stuck on the barbed wire? Hmmm...I'll add Tetanus booster to my list of things to do before race day. Or will I be the one to fall over the ravine instead of repelling down it? Trip into the fire? All distinct possibilities for this grace and beauty! Who cares? It's all about the hat...

Have a great day!
Warriors hooYAH!

Same time next year

2010-03-28T19:45:00.005-04:00

She felt him long before she saw his face simply by the weakness in her knees and the tingling up and down her arms. Aimee went on alert, ripping through the faces of the crowd searching his out. Her heart began to pound. Nervously, she folded her hands. Deep down, she knew he'd already seen her; already picked a vantage point to watch her. She flushed with self-consciousness: Did her dress fit right? Was her make up smudged? Had she remembered deodorant? She grinned and greeted; smiling and yessing through small talk not really hearing a word spoken. She caught his laugh but missed him. Impatiently she tapped her wine glass. An angry Santa look-alike was bombarding her with questions from the seminar and whining about his career's direction. She patiently ignored him, sympathetically clucking her tongue and feigning interest.

She felt him approaching from behind like a freight train. Bracing herself, Aimee closed her eyes. His lips were thin and soft on the top of her shoulder. A small breath tickled the nape of her neck. He comfortably rested his hand lightly on the small of her back causing her body to flush with recognition. She bit her lip, glad she'd picked the dark blue spaghetti strapped dress. She wouldn't have wanted to miss the feel of his kiss.

"Hello Stranger." he said quietly; casually sliding his arm around her and patting her hip.

Aimee turned to look at her ex-lover. In her mind, she'd rehearsed these words, this encounter but he'd disarmed her with his sexy grin and eager eyes roaming her frame, appreciating its curves.

"Hello to you." she said quietly.

"I was glad to see your name on the seminar list. And here you are. You did a fantastic job today. You look great."

" Thank you. I've worked very hard. And so do you, as always." trying to remain dry.

"So, how're things?" he tried again

"Fine. Very well, actually."

"I've heard." He returned over the top of his wine glass. This caused her to raise her eyebrow.

"People like to talk. " he shrugged.

She nodded slowly. Yes they did and they had talked a great deal about and to her. This was painful but she was trying to steel herself. Aimee turned the conversation to neutral territory and he was gracious enough to saunter along. She fought for lightheartedness and found they still enjoyed similar things and laughing together. He did not leave her side and the rest of the people seemed to melt away. It became the two of them.

She was winding down her evening, thanking colleagues, getting contact information and the usual promises to reconnect after the seminar when he began to steer her toward the door; hastening her pace. She thought of the times when this was her favorite part of the night. She would have him to herself. She could finally call him her own. He quickly ushered her passed the stragglers and down the hall. Her step became jagged. She felt like a child on her way to being punished.

"Excuse me." she finally stopped, pulling her arm free from his grip. "What do you think you are doing?" She cocked her hip and tapped her foot.

"Exactly what needs to be done." and he stepped in front of her.

His kiss was hungry, longing, almost crushing. She pulled away startled by his presumptuousness least of all her own desire.

"EXCUSE me." she said again almost breathlessly

"I forgot how amazing you look." he said quietly; tracing her jaw. His warm fingers drew along her shoulders flipping the strap down her arm. "And taste. I forgot how much I could want you." he whispered into the hollow of her throat. She giggled, her breath catching in her chest. She leaned into him to keep her knees from buckling. Cautiously, she wound her arms around his neck, raking her hands through his hair. She wanted him so very much. Her body was burning.

He pulled her to him, hugging her too long. "We need to go." he gruffed and lead her down the hall to the elevators, holding her hand.

"What floor?" she asked.

"yours."

"Ha. What makes you think..." she began but trailed off as his hands found her hips. His mouth barely met the nape of her neck.

"Because I haven't forgotten everything. I know where to kiss you. How to touch you. I know you Aimee. Let me show you.." his fingers trailed the seam of her dress. Slowly he lifted her hem, his palms gliding around her legs to pull her against him. Aimee closed her eyes, interlacing her fingers with his. She leaned back bringing his hands up to her breasts. He groaned softly into her hair. The elevator bounced to a stop; the doors sliding open. Silently they walked down the hall to her room. Once inside she set her purse on the table and turned to him. He smiled, brushing her hair from her face. He tilted her chin and kissed her gently; tasting her lips teasing them apart with his tongue. Her response was almost shy. Her fingers lightly caressing his chest.

"What's wrong?" His thumbs playfully drawing circles across her belly and slipping down along her hips.

"This hurts. I wasn't good enough before, but I am now? Why? Are you alone in your life or just tonight?" she tried to sound strong, but her voice was small. She was sure he could feel her knees knocking.

He sighed. "You've always been good enough. We're just too tangled up to make this work." there was true regret in his words.

"I loved you. It was all I wanted to do. I still do. Please don't hurt me with that." again, she meant to sound scornful, but knew it came across as pouty and childish.

"I love you too. I wish it could have been different. We have our memories."

"You trashed them. You trashed me."

"Then let's make new ones."

He began his crusade against her clothes. The straps of her dress succumbed first as it rushed to her hips. His breath was warm and soft against her rushes of goosebumps. He dropped to his knees, tasting her curves and desire with each kiss. Aimee cradled his head almost tearing at him through his shirt. Encircling her waist he pulled her down to him. She settled above his hips; relishing the heat of his mouth and the softness of his flesh. Carefully, she unbuttoned his shirt, touching him gently with her fingertips and lips. She heard him gasp softly as she tugged at his belt.

"Help you?" he giggled reaching for the buckle.

"Mine." she swatted at him almost growling.

Her hands swept over his hips and down his legs removing his trousers. Her body ached to feel all him. Her breath was hot across his flesh. Her mouth was soft but eager. She felt his thighs tense as she kissed him. He moaned quietly. Her rhythm was a little faster, her tongue and mouth were firm around his body.

He pulled at her; sitting up to cup her form. She grabbed his shoulders, moving steadily with him. He clutched at her; kissing her deeply. The world fell away. Aimee's muscles quivered inside, the heat he stirred in her causing her to groan and pant with his movements. He felt her tighten around him, moving urgently, hungrily. Her back straight, he watched the smile begin in the corners of her mouth, her head rocking back spilling her long hair along his hands. Her voice rose just a little and came in breathy hitches. He felt the spark in his knees and grabbed her. She feel forward kissing his face whispering his name begging him not to stop.

Her body was tense and slick. She shuddered under his hands, his mouth. The wave crashed into them; through their bodies like the fuse of a firework. She cried out as ecstasy ravaged her skin. He pushed against her not being able to feel enough of her body, her skin, her soul. Sweat trickled along his back. His want for her exploding in a rush of heat and electricity. She clung to him even when sleep came. He watched her: her smile was pure, whole and soft. He held her closely, basking in completeness, the bliss.

Morning brought sun, coffee, and sad realization. She watched him as he shaved; tenderly reaching for him.

"Don't go." she said against his shoulder with a kiss.

"You know I have to. We can't share lives. We never could." he avoided her wounded gaze.

"Nothing is done that can't be undone." she trailed.

"Same time next year? I'm counting the days." and he turned to kiss her deeply because he simply didn't know what else to do. He could never have what he truly wanted. He had to let her go.

"Could it have been me?" The tear burned his heart. He didn't want to hurt her. Ever.

"It should have been." he exhaled heavily.

He held her close memorizing the curves of her body; feeling desire rise once again for the fit of her thighs around him; her passion.

It was a cordial hug and peck over coffee. She cried softly in the cab that returned her to her home and life. She cordoned off that section of her heart that glowed with adoration and love for him. She would save it. Hide it. Until this same time next year.

He stared out the window, absently chewing his finger, his thoughts slowly, finally progressing to business, home and all the things he had. He punched a date in his Blackberry. He tucked her away for now.

Just a little something different. I hope you have a nice day and enjoyed the change of pace.

The Warriors

2010-03-24T16:50:00.005-04:00

I am going to do it. I've said I wouldn't but I can't help it. I'm going to compete.There's a reason I don't and haven't for a very long time: I am a fierce and nasty bitch when I do. But this is just a little race. Okay a little race with obstacles in it...like repelling down a cliff, scaling a wall, running through uncharted forest (quit laughing! There is a tracking device around your ankle so I figure after three days and IF I should die of exposure...they'll find me)crawling through a mud pit with barbed wire above you...kind of like a friendly boot camp. I know! I know! But I just can't let go of it. It scratches at my brain. Besides, someone told me it was stupid and I couldn't do it. Hmmmm....let's think about how THAT went over? Pride is dangerous. And the worst thing I've ever heard (and the biggest lie) is : You can't.

So when it was originally placed before me, quite honestly, I thought it was a joke:

"Yeah, right. We can't do that."

But as ALL the Yayas looked it over, we laughed, catching each other's eye, seeing the glint; the desire: "We CAN do that and it would be? Yes....FABULOUS"

I have been working for a few weeks now. I have until the fall and am actually ahead in my training schedule. I'll confess that the first time I went out I thought I would die (and secretly hoped to) from shin splints. My feet went numb. My lungs burned until I thought I'd puke blood. But I've kept at it. I've suffered bruises along the backs of my knees from the hanging crunches; my shoulder screaming from push ups. And all I kept thinking was: You can't do that.... Ahhhhh but here I am; stronger, leaner; a mighty FINE warrior.

I thought maybe it would die down; that I'd lose enthusiasm or that no one else would join in. But we've all been infected. I can't wait to get out there. I love hanging crunches. I can do more pull ups now than ever. I can hardly wait. I know it's a race, but (deep down; WAYYYYY deep down) this isn't about winning. It truly isn't. It's about all of us together; proving our strengths to ourselves (mental and physical) because quite frankly; we've been through Hell and need it. Besides, it looks to be the most fun you can have with your clothes on. I wouldn't dream of boring you with my workout numbers. I will simply post basic progress. I want to thank those of you who've laughed with me and shared in my bumpy start. And I especially want to thank you "Spike" for my theme song: The Warrior. It makes me laugh every time and it's gotten me up and running on countless occasions. I do NOT wear war paint (as it could frighten the children in the neighborhood while I'm running) but "Victory is miiiiiine!" Maybe on race day...

So there will be a new feature added to my posts:

WPS (warrior pace song) and perhaps a video or two.

Why bother telling you this? Well, I've been lax in my posting and this is why. I'm almost to a plateau point in my schedule which will free me a little more. I appreciate your patience.

I have some good ones started and hope to get them up soon. Let's meet again at the end of the week, shall we?

Thanks again. See you soon. I miss you.
WPS: UPRISING: Muse
Hoo-YAH

Muse - Uprising [OFFICIAL VIDEO]

2010-03-24T16:41:00.003-04:00

GUESS how loud I play THIS bad boy? I love the bass, drums...mmmm thunder.....It sets an awesome pace. Warriors HOOYAH!

Dear Veruca

2010-03-17T02:00:00.006-04:00

I agreed to take my daughter and her friends to Promises for her birthday. What on Earth had possessed me?

We hit the door and it began:

“Smells like cabin..” Veruca sneered
“ Because it IS you goof.” Laughed one of the others.
“It’s cold!”she whined.
“I’ll start a fire in a minute Ladies. I have to unload all your stuff here….”
“I don’t like fire.” Veruca added pointedly
*sigh* I brought in more bags and stuff than Carnival loads for an extended Alaskan adventure (staff included).

“I’m hungry. When are we ever gonna eat?”
“As soon as I finish.” I whipped up a quickie pizza. Most of it was diced and ready. I simply had to roll dough and give it a “little love”.
Veruca stood over it. “I don’t like that.” She winced and pointed at it as if I’d put spider eggs and mouse poop on it; then spun on me. “Is your water filtered?”
“Pardon?”
“Your water. Is it double filtered?”
“No Sweetie, I dredge it from that black snow next to the tail pipe on the truck out there.” My face was stuck in a smile that if you know me…you see. If you don’t? Imagine tight thin lips and words crisply but brightly uttered through gnashed teeth. The friendliest growl EVER.
“My mom is kidding. Of COURSE it’s filtered.” Maddie glanced and smiled, ushering her friend out of the room. She knew what I was thinking and where Little Miss Veruca Salt was safest.
The night was filled with “I won’t eat” and “I don’t like” and frustrated me to the point of tears. I gave up after baking the coffee cake (which she announced she would NOT eat) and went to bed just past 11. At 4am I heard the owls and smiled to myself. Promises. Ahhhh . Then at 4:05 the girls were standing on the side deck practicing their own owl calls. I rolled over and plugged my ears. I hoped that my insomnia wouldn’t kick in. It did. As I descended the stairs, I saw Veruca jumping from couch to couch crying about ladybugs.
“It’s going to bite me. I feel it. I can’t sleep.”
“I know the feeling.” I gruffed. Slipping into my running shoes, I opened the door. Wind pushed me back but I fought. I needed the quiet. I had to run this off. Whatever THIS was. I went out and began. It was good. Training for October has been good for me in so many ways. I believed it saved Veruca.

Once they summoned the morning, they made boats out of bark, masts from my kabob skewers and toothpicks. They cut up a shirt for the sails (without my permission) and used all my tape. They chewed about 75 pieces of gum to use as a sealant for their boats. Did I mention that this weekend it rained as if Noah were cruising the neighborhood? Hey. They were having fun. I couldn’t let my OCD get in the way of a good time. I fixed dinner.
“What’s THAT?”
Guess who?
“Mac and cheese.”
“No it isn’t.”
“Wellll yes it is.”I felt my smile tighten.
“Doesn’t look like my moms. Does it have spices in it? I can’t eat spices. I can only eat paprika.”
I spied the HOT Hungarian canister on my stove…Better not Babs. I sighed again. After serving, I quarantined myself to the other room only to find their wet clothes in a mashed up pile on the floor. I also discovered boxes of half eaten cookies under my couch INSIDE the recliner. I picked up wrappers to candy bars, gushers and Yogos. I put them in a pile with the clothes and waited. I vacuumed three times only to clean up the cheese and food that little miss picky had “dropped” when she realized it had something in it. She must have thought we had dogs. It's what I told myself anyway. I took the wet mucky wood they tried to drag into the house back out. I pulled the stumps they planted in the ice and then? I smiled. I was done. Cinderella was going to the ball.

“Ladies?”
Veruca was frowning over my pantry. I’d hidden all the good things in canisters labeled : flour and tea etc.
“Want some cookie cake?”I sang.
“You have that?” Veruca asked with blinky excitement.
“Yep. AND ice cream.” What I was about to serve was tastier to me than any sugary substance. I scooped another mouthful of bait…
“YEAH!!!” She jumped up and down appearing happy for the first time.
“Okay. Clean up.” I will confess it was DELICIOUS. I took another bite of decadence.
“What?” Veruca winced and cocked her head as if she’d heard dirty word in church. She clearly did not understand.
“Clean up.” The second bite was as tasty as the first. “Let’s continue this. I like it.” I thought to myself and planted my body directly in front of Veruca.
“Clean up what?” she snorted.
I smiled and did the game show arm waive/display move….“THIIIS! As soon as it’s all set? We’re havin cake and ice cream. Wee HOO!” and I clapped my hands. I know. It probably WAS wrong, but I had absolutely had it.
Maddie smiled, shaking her head. “She’s not kidding guys. Better do it.”
“But I thought we were guests. Guests don’t do things…”
“Ah, but I’m not a maid. I’m a mom. And Moms boss you around and make you do things you don’t want to do. We can argue about it or get it done and have cake.” I began to cut and scoop and obscene amount on a plate.

“That’s mine!” Veruca shouted almost drooling over the warm soft cookie, the smell of melted butter and sugar drenched in cold silky ice cream. Oh yeah. I played it BIIIIG time.
“No Sweetie. It’s MINE I’ve done all my chores. Better hustle.”You know the bite I took barely fit in my mouth. It dribbled out. I giggled and scooped it up with my finger, sucking it off loudly. “MMMMM” hee hee hee.

“She’s not kidding guys.” Maddie kept at it; almost finished herself.
The long/short of it? They did it AND got dessert. They put their dishes away and I heard them whispering as I headed up to bed (just to capture some sanity and quiet)
“Why did she do that? It’s your party and she made you clean up?”
My daughter shrugged. "It’s three against one in the mess department. And as long as I’ve known my mom, she is the strongest ONE I’ve ever seen. Sometimes, you just gotta know you’re just beat. "And in the back of my mind, I was ecstatic to receive Daylight savings time. They’d be home an hour earlier.

An incredibly long weekend. I want to thank those who helped me through (via Internet and hilarious phone calls. Friends indeed); most of all my wonderful daughter who brought me a special breakfast in bed with a small note thanking me for all I’d done and what a wonderful weekend she’d had. She is a beautiful gift and I’m glad I shared three days with Veruca so I could remember that.

Caught

2010-03-14T19:00:00.004-04:00

This one is a little edgier than usual. No worries. It's not erotica (I save that for my OTHER blog) just....be advised.

Remember the first time? Were you fumbling, stuttering, embarrassed? Could you look them in the eye? It took me days. I think I broke out in a sweat each time I entered the same room, flushed with nervousness, apprehension. I just knew it was written all over me. I'd caught my parents doin the horizontal mambo. Dear GOD, they each thought the other was hot and they liked each other naked. NAKED!

I've been told through laughter and blushes that friends of mine were in their passionate throes and looked over to see two little eyes peeping at them from the side of the bed.

"Well Hello there."

"Wachoo doin Daddy?"

"Absolutely nothing NOW, Punkin. Let's go watch cartoons."

"Okay..."
THEN (and one of my favorites)
There was the couple with enough foresight to close and lock their door. Thinking they were "good to go" began to dance.

knock knock (softly)

"Leave it."

knock knock (louder) "Helllooooo?"

"Uhhhh Be right out Honey."

And from under the door appeared the tiniest, most curious, wiggly fingers followed by the puffing sound of a little mouth as Baby flopped on the rug right in front of the door peering under it:

"What you DOING in dare?" Naturally this came in a rush of loud giggly breaths because at such young ages, everything is a game.

Yeah, that's an all time fav.

Of course, it's different for me and Cheech. When Maddie caught us (the first time), she was about three. She had a habit of following us (everywhere, all the time) and we had mistakenly made a game of hide and seek out of it...every time but once. That once, we thought we'd have enough time to run upstairs, strip, wrestle and be back down before she'd counted to five via the numbers nine and firty (she was three after all, so she took the long route). We were wrong but had covered our bases (desperate to be together and giggling about it in a heated rush) by hiding in our closet. Even if she found her way upstairs, we were "tucked away" seeking sensual refuge on a mountain of laundry. But that little dickens found us...in the worst ummm position. I was kicking the door shut with my foot; but the damn thing wouldn't latch so she would push it open and I would kick it shut and she would push again, laughing..."I finnnnnd youuuuuu. I seeee youuuuu" One day, we'll tell her. But I want to make sure she'll think it's gross.

That being confessed a little sheepishly; I will admit insomnia is a lonely thing. I don't enjoy infomercials and sometimes I don't want to write. This particular morning, I knew exactly what I wanted. I snuggled up.

"WHAT are you doing" were the sleepy words.

"mmm nothing. Are you awake?"

"Would you like me to be?"

"Yes, please I believe I would." we giggled and horsed around.

Now, I am not a quiet woman in anything I do and this has made me very careful in certain situations. Careless with two kids? Perhaps. But I also have incredible hearing...Down the hall I heard my daughter stir.

"Wait. She's up" I hissed.

"No she isn't. Nobody is at this hour except you."

"She is! Shhh"

"I'm tellin ya, she isn't. C'mere."

We giggled and horsed around. The best part? Okay maybe the SECOND best was that it was so early we got to take a "nap" after. Hooray insomnia! Everyone wins. We got up and got ready for our day. I went in to start Maddie's engine for the day.

"Mom?"

"Yep?" I was picking up some laundry.

"You okay?"

"Yep." Still had no clue.

"Mom?"

"What Maddie?" I stood up in a little huff and flopped my arms to my side.

"Well, I was awake at 4:32 this morning...."

My mouth fell open. I began to scramble and stutter "Yeah? Hmm. Why's that? "

"I heard you crying or something. Did you have a nightmare?"

I looked to the heavens and was grateful for the out. "YES! Yes I DID have a nightmare. It was a whopper! So sorry I uh woke you."

"Oh wow. I thought you were havin a seizure or somethin." she sighed and looked at me; long and hard.

"Yep. Nightmare. That's exactly it." I clicked my tongue and bit my lip. The tears were coming and I didn't know how long I could hold the laugh in. I jogged to the bathroom and told Cheech.

"I told you she was awake." he smiled over the top of shaving cream.

"You LIIIIEEEE" and I swatted him.

"Maybe. But YOU got caught."

He was right. I had nothing; but a seizure.
Too personal? Probably. Funny? Yes, in my mind. Like it? I hope you did. Hug whoever caught you and especially the one with whom you got caught. To quote Dr. Seuss:
Funny things are everywhere.

2010-03-10T23:00:00.001-05:00

Not a finalist; a semi at best. *sigh* I still liked it and hope you do too.

Viola!

Sure it was my first professional gig; but as a magician, I should CERTAINLY be able to hide my debut jitters. Viola! What jitters? I made sure my props were ready: Never-ending hankie? Check. Trick playing cards? Check. Hat and rabbit? Check. I put them on the counter while I heated up the iron. I had to press my magic coat and pants AND get my business cards ready because after this party, they’d be speechless. Make way for the new Blackstone, Henning or Copperfield. Big time Vegas money, here I come!

Oh NO! All that daydreaming made me late! I couldn’t be late for my first birthday party. What would little Jimmy or Danny or whoever think? I scurried about, cramming all my tricks into my trunk. Some serious apologies would have to appear when I got there.

I careened into the driveway, jumping out before my Aveo came to a complete stop. I could hear the party was already in full swing; laughter, shouting, even caught a glimpse of a couple high maintenance critters hovering greedily over the M&M’s. I hoped I’d brought balloons. They’re great to get the kids hooked. Mom and Dad were a little stiff but I calmed them down, smoothing it over with promises of a fabulous party. It was going to be absolutely unforgettable.

I pulled my trunk out to set up. I closed my eyes concealing horrendous embarrassment, gut wrenching panic as I realized the stupid rabbit was on my table. My finale was missing. But a good magician can always improvise. I saw out of the corner of my eye a hutch; with a FABULOUS bunny in it. Whew! I smiled grandly. The show would go on. Renewed confidence told me to begin with a poodle or two out of my stretchy balloon collection.

Squeak!
Pop!
“ WHOA! Here ya go Birthday boy! A hat just for you!”
I was bringing them in. I read their minds, dazzled them with some of my card tricks, wowed them with my dancing hankies and last but not least, asked for a volunteer. Everyone jumped up, waving until I thought their arms would fly from their sockets. I grandly stepped past them all; even the birthday boy, pulling the rabbit from the hutch.

“ This little fella will do.” I said and stuffed him into the hat.

Mom and Dad were smiling. Everyone was happy. This was like shooting fish in a barrel. Vegas Baby! I just knew I was on my way. But the impromptu Hasenpfeffer was not used to being handled. It wiggled and squirmed as I chanted my magical disappearing words. Then POOF! It was gone. Those kids’ eyes were as big as half dollars. No smoke. Nope. Just gone. Of course it was in my jacket digging with its hind quarters and biting at me. It was killing me but I kept it pinned under my elbow. The harder it jerked, the tighter I pinched. I even popped a seam in the back of my jacket. Silly rabbit, this trick was for kids!

Well the big moment arrived at last. I plopped my hat down. The little boy kept asking where his bunny was.
“Don’t worry Son. He’s riiiight….”
I stretched my arms out to cast my last phenomenal magic spell; the one that would make me
famous.
“HERE!”
I shook my hands to bring the rabbit forward from my jacket so I could slip it into the hat where it would wiggle its nose and flip its feet. Everyone would clap. I was seconds away from my star studded rise.
Instead, the rabbit fell out of my coat hitting the ground with a sickening “whump”. It hadn’t been my seam after all. I’d broken its neck.
There was a maddening silence as they stared at me; speechless.
Voila.

I FORGOT

2010-03-09T04:00:00.004-05:00

It began with a harried 6:30 wake up call:

"Maddie! Get up! It's late!" I jumped the steps two at a time.

Her tiny frame stirred and she grumbled; ignoring me.

"MADDIE! You'll be LATE for school! GET UP." I shook her bed.

"hmmph-a-rmmph...."

"Maddie? This is three." I said quietly.

My daughter shot up in her bed. "I AM UP! UP! Oh NOOOO I forgot to set my alarm!"
Down out of her bed she flew rushing to start and finish her morning in what seemed like a giant gulp. A quick kiss that looked more like a head-butt and off she went.

One down, one to go. Boo likes to take his time in the morning. He gets up early so he can do so. I almost feel like I should be brewing coffee for him and fetching his paper so he can linger over it while contemplating his Cinnamon Toast Crunch. He loves to eat breakfast in his robe...my lil Hugh Heffner...yeah, that's another blog all together.

The phone rang. This is not a good thing in my house; not before 9am anyway.

"Mom?"

I immediately thought the worst: a gunman? a bus crash?

"I forgot all my homework."

I wrinkled my nose and sighed (the volume of the sigh indicates the level of frustration). This was a low level warning. She didn't even hear it.

"I'll get it to you as soon as I can Hon. Sit tight." and so began MY rushing. NOW I had to hurry Boo along so I could get to her homework to school and drop him off. Not a big deal. I had plenty of time. We hustled and scooted out the door. Awesome! Half way into our extra trip I heard him.

"Ohhhh NO!" he whispered.

I almost locked em up.

"WHAT?" I hunted him down in the rear view mirror. My eyes all but burning a hole in the seat.

"Mommy, I don't have my project papers. They're on the table in the dining room"

I smacked the steering wheel and sighed. Defcon 2. NOW I had to rush to middle school, fly home and zoom to elementary school; all before 8:30am. It was 8:10 DAMMIT!!!

Then I did it. I was a selfish wench. I drove in the butt-head lane and cut someone off. He was pointing out that I was "number 1" and smacking HIS steering wheel. As I pulled into school, he whipped up next to me with his window down and some pretty words of wisdom to share. I simply smiled and blew him a kiss. I had a schedule to keep. So I was Supermom: I dodged a bullet, was faster than a speeding locomotive and was able to get my son to school in a single bound.

I called work to inform them of my fabulous start and kept up my insane pace. It was how my day went. Home was no better. Because I was late, I needed to stay after; then run home, attack my elliptical, get dinner started, bake a birthday cake, biscuits and begin dinner for tomorrow (because I would be doing laundry, hauling kids to drama...pant pant...dizzy...lost sight of...day... me....help...drowning...)
The phone rang. This is not a good thing in my house ever, I think.

"Mommy? I forgot I had drama and band. I'll be late."

"Ok. Call me when you're leaving. Have fun I'll see you soon." this rushed from my mouth in one word because I was hurrying to wrap a gift.

Boo marched through the door.

"Did you have a good day Honey?"

"Yeah." he toed the carpet and looked everywhere but at me.

"What."

"I forgot my homework."

RED ALERT RED ALERT!!!! SEEK IMMEDIATE SHELTER! SHE'S GONNA BLOW!!!!!!

I sighed and swiped my keys, snatched my jacket and held the door for my son; baaaaack to school. I forgot my wallet and purse. I prayed as fast as I was driving that I didn't get caught. I had to hurry and be home before Maddie got back. We made it. Somehow we made it. Finally! Done running. I took off my coat and heard my daughter at the door.

"I'm starrrrrving." she said kissing my cheek.

The tears were instantaneous and hot. I forgot to get anything out for dinner. I officially gave up. All I could do was rest one hand on the counter and the other on my chest. I think it was to keep my heart beating at a normal rate; or maybe just to catch the failure dribbling off my chin in little choked sobs.

The pizza man came right away. I was too defeated to eat. I sat on the couch moping and wishing I hadn't had this day.

The kids came out after cleaning up (throwing out is a better more HONEST description) and clicked on my favorite show. They sat on either side of me, leaning their heads on my arms. Over the top of six little sockie feet I watched and felt my shoulders slowly relax. The tears of frustration dried up. It was over.

"I love you Mom. You order the best pizza in the world."

Bad day? Just like that--I forgot.

BUTT DIALING

2010-03-05T03:00:00.004-05:00

Lindsey picked up. She heard muffled voices and some laughter. She called to him.
"Andrew? ANDREW!" Her smile was sweet. She plugged her free ear to listen more closely.
"Oh hey, wait a minute...I butt dialed..." and he came on. "Hallooooo? " he was laughing. She could hear his face and see the crinkles around his gentle brown eyes.
"Hey Baby. You miss me already?" She swayed back and forth. "Who's all there?"
"Ah nobody Sweetness. Dennis. We're waiting for our meeting to finish up and then fly out day after tomorrow. Miss you. Lemme go."

"Will do. Kiss em for me." and she hung up. As lonely as she'd be, it was only for a couple of days. She sighed and pulled her long brown hair up to a pony tail. She fixed her jacket and finished getting ready. Her phone rang. Expecting it to be Andrew's derriere, she laughed and placed the cellie to her ear.

"Hey! This is stalk--" but she stopped short.

"No. No injuries. She needs to go. I can't take this anymore. I hate everything about her."

She pulled the phone away from her head and stared at the number. It wasn't Andrew's but it was his voice. It was thick with hate. He continued.

"I don't give a shit. She's going to be home after 4 today. Do it. I can't be in town."

Another man coughed and asked "What insurance do you want?"

" I don't care. Dispose of the ...no DESTROY the phone. Get me her teeth so there are no dental records. Burn the rest."

Then a woman. "Honey. That's a bit much..."

"No it isn't Denise. I hate her. I want her gone. Forever. We wanted to make a clean start, right? I can't think of a cleaner one." There was giggling and clinking of glasses.

Lindsey sat down hard on the stool at her counter. She closed the phone slowly. Her mouth was dry. Her scalp started a chain reaction of goosebumps that trailed and burned all the way to her toes. She began to shake. Her husband was going to kill her and have her burned. He hated her so much that he wanted all her teeth to be yanked from her skull. She rushed to the sink, losing her breakfast. Propping herself on the edge she began to cry. Her knees were weak. Her head swam. Should she call the police? Should she call the insurance company? Should she run?

"Oh God." She wailed. The quaking in her muscles almost took her to the floor. Her eyes flashed around the kitchen, the house. The stove clock blinked 3:15pm Panicking, she dashed up the stairs and ripped through the closet. She slammed clothing into suitcases and glided down the steps. She raced to the library and cleaned out the safe, pulling all the cash and jewelry. Her load was getting heavier, but the adrenaline threatened to eat through her stomach if she didn't hurry.

The now lumbering cases thunked against her legs. She dragged them to her car and heaved them in. Dammit! She forgot her keys! Running back she swiped them from the counter.

The doorbell rang.

Lindsey froze. She covered her mouth to stuff the scream back into her throat.
He peered through the sidelight at the door. Their eyes locked. He grinned and threw his shoulder against the door. It bucked and thumped. Lindsey shook her head emphatically screaming "NO! NO!" but he just kept coming. Her feet moved without asking. She bolted back through the kitchen to the car. She dove in and slammed the locks. The keys seemed all too fat and clunky to fit in the ignition. The man appeared in the doorway. Lindsey honked the horn and finally felt the car spark to life. The gears ground and bitched but she flew down the drive and out on to the street, screaming at the top of her lungs until the burning in her chest made her gasp and gag. Then a cooler head prevailed.

Andrew sauntered coolly into the lobby of the resort in Nevis. He squinted against the brilliant blues and bright colors. The sun baked off any sense of guilt. Ordering a drink, he checked his watch and waited. Denise would be arriving soon. The complimentary Bahama mama was exchanged for his usual martini. Ahhh the nectar of the Gods he sighed and slouched back in his cabana chair.

His phone rang. It was Lindsey's number. A dry smile spread across his face. He raised his glass signalling for another drink, winking and leering at the scantily clad beauties whispering and smiling at him. It was time to celebrate.

"Andrew" her voice was flat and crisp.

He spat his drink, spraying the gold diggers. They "Ewww-ed", flipped their hair, moving on.
His breath was stuck. "Linnie? Babe? You all right?" His voice cracked. His bowels felt hot and loose. He was thankful to be sitting down.

"You all right?" the laugh was high; incredulous. "Never better." -click

He closed his phone and glanced around. Sweat dripped from his upper lip. He polished off both drinks and rubbed his wet hair.

His phone rang.

"Yes?" his voice was soft. There was only rustling and muffled voices. He shut his phone quickly and turned it off. He headed to the main desk to check for Denise.

"Is she here?" he asked, thrumming his fingers nervously on the counter. His wedding band clicked rhythmically.

"Ah yes Sir. She left this for you." An elegantly wrapped box with the tag "Love Denise" was slid across to him. He smiled, relaxing a bit. Knowing his lover, it was her underware. He tugged at the black ribbon. His smile fell down across his face. His eyes widened in horror. He stared helplessly at Denise's phone and a handful of small pearly nuggets.

"Oh Jesus GOD!" he wailed and threw the box back at the concierge.

His phone rang...and rang...and rang. His unsteady hand plucked at it. Without a sound he put it to his ear and listened. He heard the jolly tinklings of the mariachi band in the lobby....

I LOVED this one. I sat down and wrote it non-stop in less than an hour. Usually, I write, rewrite and let it sit. My heart pounded all the way through. My fingers banged on the keys; I couldn't type fast enough. I was afraid I'd lose it. I hope you enjoy it also.

Relaxation

2010-03-03T04:00:00.005-05:00

Promises? Yeah, Baby, I'm in. Who can resist its charm and tranquility? Not me. It's in my top three favorite things to do.

Two feet of snow--we heard. We dismissed it.

School closed. We packed faster and got out of Dodge. At least the roads were clear; no traffic and the conditions were wet all the way. We giggled at our good fortune, anticipating our impromptu get aw--

ACCCH-PSSSS flblblbbbbbbb

My stomach churned in remembrance of my LAST flat tire which as most of you will recall ended in sparks, fire and tears.

"Dag Gummit! A BLOWOUT!" The laughter grew as we proceeded to call AAA for help and quote my favorite movie "A Christmas Story." I'll see if I can find the clip. Sure it took more than eight minutes but we couldn't have cared less. We were invincible. Besides, the young cute Brad Pitt that came to rescue us made it even better... LORDY ! I just HAAAAD to git out an HAY-elp! (after combing my hair, pouting my lips and putting on just a HINT of gloss...any damsel in distress should look her best...C'MON!) With my smutty thoughts tucked away, I pinched Cheech's rear and off we went.

Promises- Ahhh my heart soared and it had to considering the drifts were to the first floor roof. The ones near the door were up to my hip. We swam through and snagged our shovels. After digging out, we settled in: a roaring fire, wonderful wine and fantastic raviolis with vodka tomato sauce.

Morning brought more snow as we piled into the truck for tubing. AWESOME! We were the only ones on the hill for about half an hour. This enabled me to get caught up in the tow rope, get flipped over the back half of the mountain and conduct a winter clothing "yard sale" while screaming like Goofy: Baaaahahaha-hoooooie! I would giggle and point, we all know that, so I just stayed there making sure I had all the body parts I'd started out with and laughed until I went numb. Oh wait that was the snow that had accumulated in every crack and crevice God gave me.

Needless to say, I headed to the bar where I found the BEST drink ever...second only to our signature Yaya drink. Ladies???? You're in for a treat. It makes you lick your lips and think how good you taste. On the brink of sexy. Weee HOO!

We dug out our neighbors, watched the otters on the lake, and made the mental note NEVER to let Winston out with out his leash at night. Considering the menacing, hungry growl seeping from the trees...He's likely to become an appetizer for something.

We cooked, laughed, shovelled and loved our way through our weekend. Wish you were there~so I did the next bet thing.

Hope you smiled. I did.