hi, y'all. here's my flash fiction for this week (trying to get back on schedule. ):

ID: 1418178   (Rated: 18+) The Whippoorwill  A condemned prisoner's last morning. by Lauriemariepea

i smell like old lettuce. time to take a shower!

i was gonna post a cool quotation by some groovy historical figure like abraham lincoln or will rogers. something pithy, insightful, inspiring, even. but i got caught up in barack obama's PA primary concession speech and was reminded all over again why i support him so passionately. i don't need a quotation from long ago to open my wee lil heart--i've got obama, circa 2006-2008:

"Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time. We are the ones we've been waiting for. We are the change that we seek."

"There are a whole lot of religious people in America, including the majority of Democrats. When we abandon the field of religious discourse-when we ignore the debate about what it means to be a good Christian or Muslim or Jew; when we discuss religion only in the negative sense of where or how it should not be practiced, rather than in the positive sense of what it tells us about our obligations toward one another; when we shy away from religious venues and religious broadcasts because we assume that we will be unwelcome-others will fill the vacuum. And those who do are likely to be those with the most insular views of faith, or who cynically use religion to justify partisan ends."

"Americans ... still believe in an America where anything's possible -- they just don't think their leaders do."

"We should be more modest in our belief that we can impose democracy on a country through military force. In the past, it has been movements for freedom from within tyrannical regimes that have led to flourishing democracies; movements that continue today. This doesn't mean abandoning our values and ideals; wherever we can, it's in our interest to help foster democracy through the diplomatic and economic resources at our disposal. But even as we provide such help, we should be clear that the institutions of democracy - free markets, a free press, a strong civil society - cannot be built overnight, and they cannot be built at the end of a barrel of a gun. And so we must realize that the freedoms FDR once spoke of - especially freedom from want and freedom from fear - do not just come from deposing a tyrant and handing out ballots; they are only realized once the personal and material security of a people is ensured as well."

"I always believe that ultimately, if people are paying attention, then we get good government and good leadership. And when we get lazy, as a democracy and civically start taking shortcuts, then it results in bad government and politics."

"Our goal is to have a country that's not divided by race. And my impression, as I travel around the country, is that that's the kind of country that most people want, as well, and that we all have prejudice, we all have certain suspicions or stereotypes about people who are different from us, whether it's religious or racial or ethnic, but what I think I found in the American people, I think there's a core decency there, where if they take the time, if they get the time to know individuals, then they want to judge those individuals by their character."

"I am convinced that whenever we exaggerate or demonize, oversimplify or overstate our case, we lose. Whenever we dumb down the political debate, we lose. For it's precisely the pursuit of ideological purity, the rigid orthodoxy and the sheer predictability of our current political debate, that keeps us from finding new ways to meet the challenges we face as a country. It's what keeps us locked in 'either/or' thinking: the notion that we can only have big government or no government; the assumption that we must either tolerate forty-six million without health insurance or embrace 'socialized medicine.'"

i could go on all night. trust me. what i'll say to folks who diminish obama's words by scoffing, categorizing his truths as speechifying for political gain, is that this man has insight. this man has expressed an understanding of our country's tender spots i haven't heard from any other politician during their campaign. when candidates historically move closer to center in order to pacify the largest electorate, obama opens up discussion on controversial topics--not because he's an extremist, and elitist, out of touch with our melting pot of a culture. but because he truly wishes to begin solving these very real issues, and the first step to accomplishing that is to find the words to express our concerns. to understand our problems as a country and a people.

as lovers of words, we writers should be the first to champion this effort--we understand more than many the power of words, and the ideas and emotions they inspire. i am not discouraged by tonight's primary result--i expected this nomination process to be long, difficult, and frustrating. but the message still stands, and he will be the eventual democratic candidate. si se puede!!








 

i had an interesting few days. my sister left this morning. she arrived in town on sunday afternoon, on the first leg of a two-week roadtrip. she's travelling with her dog, jetta. jetta's a sweetie--a black standard poodle. very pampered, very well-trained. our mongrels were beside themselves, trying to make them packmembers. so sweet, so inclusive, all happy to have made new friends. god, i love our dogs.

so, everyone settled, and the plan was to trek up the nearby mountain on monday and deposit my mother's ashes in a nice spot. in my imagination, this could easily have descended into a circus of errors. in my imagination, several times it did. in reality, everything went smoothly. eerily so. my sister mentioned she felt our mother smiling as she watched us find closure. i didn't feel anything like that, but what do i know?

my one surreal moment was on the hike. we walked about 100 feet from the car, up into the forest, and i carried the bag containing the box holding my mother's ashes. the phrase 'i carry my mother' repeated in my head as i walked, and i felt a primal connection with every descendent of every bloodline, every person who has born the privilege of laying their parents to rest. i felt that connection, but instead of weighing me down, i felt very right.

i felt closer to my mother in that moment than i have since childhood, that moment of caring for her, giving her a peaceful and pleasing resting place. i know she would have liked the spot we chose for her--the breeze rustling through the pine trees above us, the broken sunlight spotting the pine needles on the ground, the edge of the mountain ridge at our feet, and the purity of the peace and calm surrounding us. right there right then, it was a perfect moment.
i carry my mother.
i carry my mother.
for everything she's done for me, for everything in her heart which she never could do for me. i've set her down, now. i've finally been able to express the honor i've felt as her daughter without the accompanying shame that's followed me my entire life.
she truly has moved on, and whether she's winked from existence entirely or shifted to an experience beyond any we'd understand here, she's in a better place.
and i have my sister to thank for that. without her willingness to travel here, to allow me to join in this final step, i would still be trapped in that ambivalence.

the rest of the visit was typical tourism in many ways, some lovely moments and some silly moments. a few snarky moments. but all told, a unique experience.

p was wonderful, helping to keep the mood light when we needed it, and giving us space when we needed that, too. he photographed us on the mountain, and one shot has the two of us crouched in our spot, sunlight outlining us as we sit quietly. maybe i should've felt sorrow, but it really was a joyful moment.

i hope everyone's had a peaceful week so far--full of sunlight, rough tree bark, and eggplant parmigiana (what? you think i'd leave food out of this? ).
 

hi, all.
so, my big sister's in town, visiting for a few days.
i likely won't be around too much, but i'll do my best to check in and say howdy. i even got the dreaded '3-days-and-you-haven't-blogged' notice. *sigh* hate that thing.
i'll tell you guys all about the visit when it's over.
have a great week!
 

arrrgh!! i'm stumped. written myself into a corner with a new story. story due tomorrow. not good. must think. no time! will ask for dreams to answer question while i sleep tonight. me go now.

mmm....dinner good. hope you had good dinner too. me grok. *burp*
 

hey, so...i've been in bed...enbeddened the last two days. i've also been encouched, and televisified. internettened. drugs, too, have been a party to all this. all this information exposure, and i still have nothing to talk about. it's all kind of blurry, though.

all kinds of political stuff, but man, i'm legitimately tired of delving into this stuff. i like to stay informed, but i'm not gonna pick apart whatever loopy happenings occurr each day...that's no fun. but where's rachel maddow been this week?? i miss her.

'ghosthunters' is a kick-ass show, i have to say. when i first moved into this house with p, i was a little nervous. both of his parents passed away here (different years)--peacefully, mostly--but i didn't want to piss anyone off by sleeping in their sweet baboo's bed without permission. i asked, but they never said anything.

when i was a kid, i saw something. of course, being a kid and alone at the time, no one believed me. and over the years you find ways to explain these things away. but i think the pure shotgunning of adrenaline during those few minutes is why i'm so attracted to writing horror now. (didn't say i was good at it... )

my family lived in an apartment, and i was young enough to be in bed. my dad and brother were at a neighbor's, so i was alone. i woke up with that feeling, like i'd just heard something in my sleep that woke me up. so, i wasn't afraid, but i was listening in the dark. i'd have vivid dreams all the time where i'd wake up feeling physical effects from whatever happened in the dream, so i wasn't immediately freaked out. but like a lot of kids i was afraid of the dark, so i kept a flashlight next to my bed, just in case.
i wanted to be brave, so i stayed sitting in the dark, waiting. after a minute or so, i heard a loud slamming noise, and jumped. it was so loud i felt it. it had come from the kitchen, and sounded like a cupboard door slamming shut.
i pulled the covers up to my cheekbones, heart beating like a small bird's, but nothing. then, it happened again. and this time it kept going. slam! slam! slam!
i was terrified, but i couldn't stand to stay in bed and wait for...whatever might happen...so i grabbed my flashlight and ran out into the living room.
having only the light from my hand was almost worse than nothing. i rounded the corner to the dining room, and stood just outside the galley kitchen.
the slamming was still going, so loud and close i could feel the breeze from the movement. i scanned the flashlight around the kitchen, and at least six different cabinet doors were opening and closing on their own. fast, hard, continuous. and loud. so loud, i wanted to cover my ears, but i didn't want to move the light away and i was too chicken to turn the lights on. i thought if it was just me with a flashlight they/it wouldn't notice me, wouldn't turn their attentions to me.

the funny thing is, i don't remember what happened after that. no memory. i remember talking to my dad about it, and i could tell he thought i'd imagined something, or dreamt it. the ole hypnagogic state. he said something about air in the pipes making knocking sounds. but this wasn't that. not unless air in the pipes could open and close doors.

years later, i found out from my mom (or sister, i don't remember) that my dad had seen things in the kitchen, too. he just never told anyone about it. thinking back, he did have a glint of something in his eyes when i told him what i'd seen. at the time, i figured it was suspicion, but thinking back, it might've been fear.

anyhoo, i'm off to watch more 'ghosthunters'.

i hope you guys had a happy day, full of jujubes and raisinets.


 

hey, all--i have a bit of exciting news! lookit:

Gold Trophy
From: Scribophile on April 8
A shining golden trophy.
Message:
Congratulations on 1st place in the March poetry contest with "Shade Tree"! Keep up the great writing!

i won a poetry contest at scribophile.com! i used an older poem, so nothing new or exciting there, but i won a $50 gift certificate at amazon.com! woohoo!! like stevie ray vaughn might say, 'let's go shoppin'!

in other news, my face is about to explode. at least, it feels like it. drugs good, virus bad. oh, pounding pounding and throbbing....i gotta go take more medicine. i might be facedown in my supper later, but i won't be whining as much. hubby will be happy.

have a good night, y'all--i wish for you barrels of cheddar goldfish crackers to wade in.
 

oh, for the love of christmas. i have a head cold, all stuffed up, ears apoppin', eyes watering, cheekbones achin'...i feel funny all over, and not in a good way. thppt. i also have asthma, so i've been tooting on my lil horn all afternoon, my poor bronchial tubes all irritated and reactive. i hate being sick!!!!!

the other thing is that i'm on vacation from work next week. whatever else, i refuse to be sick on my vacation. my sister's coming to town for a few days--we're sprinkling our mom on a nearby mountain. so, yeah. a fun time for all.
i am not going to sneeze at an inopportune time, and watch my mother's ashes flume all over the inside of the car, instead. ain't gonna happen.

i've been waiting all day to hear the results for a poetry contest i entered at scribophile...supposed to be posted today, and nothing yet. grrr. the suspense is keeling mee!! wait, lemme go check one more time....nope. nothing. and i gotta go to bed in less than an hour. ah, well. this sort of thing builds character, right?

you know what's a cool word? frappe. frappe. i like how that so doesn't roll off the tongue; not yer typical french word, ya know? sounds like the sound a penguin might make after catching himself in a trip. frappe!! slappity slappity slappity.

i know i should stay away from dairy, with all the extra phlegm and everything...but i'm gonna go have some ice cream before i can't taste it anymore.

y'all have a good night, and i wish you clear sinuses and happy headmeat.
 

i've got the biggest crush on clive pearce from hgtv's 'designed to sell'. it's not a sekshooal kinda thing, but a 'i wanna hang out with him and laugh at his jokes' kinda thing. he's charm personified, and if i ever throw one of those dinners, where i get to invite any six people, living or dead, he'll be on the list. you're on notice, clivey--steam the tux!
clive and lisa laporta are so cute, and she's so talented...i feel like i can't swing a hammer properly when i watch the show. and then there's the uberevil 'house hunters international'--the show where schlubs like me get to watch wealthy people look for their second homes (or their la-dee-da-i-don't-have-to-work homes) in costa rica or paris or wherever. *sigh* i love seeing how people in other countries live, what their homes look like, but the clients are so frickin' annoying i'm embarrassed to have them as acting embassadors for the USA. and they're so picky!! they complain all the time. okay, i'll be honest. i hate 'em. with the fiery passion of a thousand suns, i hate 'em. if i had that much money, i'd live a much better life with it, helping other people, saving abandoned animals, being respectful of other cultures....arrgh.
was that judgemental? it was kinda judgemental. (but i'm still right.)

so, in other tidbits, the weekends just go by, don't they? and the work week takes soooo loooooong....i'm gonna visit a hypnotist, so he can reverse this particular perspective. plus, i'd like a hammock. then, life will be perfect!

gack. all right, lovelies. i hope you all had a relaxing sunday, your chubby faces packed with niblets and scrumptions.
 

you know what's really good? pork ribs and sauerkraut. and potatoes. yum! for dessert....ice cream! but that's later. (belly all distended right now)

you know what i don't like so much? taking showers. or baths. i like the actual cleaning, with the water and lathering and fun music on the shower radio, but the drying off and getting dressed afterward is so tedious. and i know i'm just gonna have to do it again. over and over and over....it's futile!!

here's today's quote:
"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."
-Martin Luther King, Jr.

i wish i were generous enough of heart to truly love those who hate. i do. the best i can do right now is pity them, and feel frustrated. it's a long way off, this elevated philosophy dr king espoused. but in some ways i suppose we are closer to fulfilling his dream. just not close enough. i hope we can someday make him proud.

hope everyone had a good day, full of baby corn and pickled asparagus.


 

hi, all. first, here's this week's story:

ID: 1409945   (Rated: 18+) Night Dust  Jane has her father's eyes. by Lauriemariepea

i had a grilled cheese sandwich for dinner.
and stuffed grape leaves.

yeah, that probably sounds like a weird combination.

tonight, we stay up late (for us) to watch our beloved 'top chef'. man, if tom colicchio had any idea how much we sacrifice for that show...but i can't stay away! i don't watch 'the mole', or the island survival reality shows, but i love love love the 'skilled' reality competition shows: 'top chef', 'project runway', 'design star'...i wonder what other skills would work for a competition reality show?
i've seen a photography show, and that was eh-eh, okay. the model shows are compelling, but it's difficult to sympathize or root for beautiful silly people. what else? hmm....they've made dancing competition shows. i watched the first season of the 'dancing with the stars', and that was fun. okay, i'm jumping off this line of thought. t'aint going anywhere. if you guys think of a--OOH!! have you seen the lumberjack competitions??? the log tossing, the speed axe work, the carrying the wife in a wheelbarrow...? it's a window into a different world. but yeah, lemme know if you think of another reality show concept.

oh, goat leggings. i gotta write another story by friday. i've been trying to think up a good idea, but i seem to be obsessed with biological issues lately. that gets old...

damn, i had a dull day. sorry. brain no worky, either. sigh. better go now, before it gets....worse....*honk shwew*.....


 

why? why? why why why? i keep doing this!! aaauuugghhhh!!!!

so, i typed up this involved entry. yeah, you can see where this is going. i got distracted by dinner cooking, dinner eating, and when i came back to it, WHAPOW!!! computer frozen, screen blank, no entry saved. i lost it. GOD, i am cheesed off.

and i can't try to recreate it, because the magic is gone. the spontaneity has taken the c-line to bye-bye land. fuck. ah, well. the important this is.....hm. what's the important thing?

i don't know, but i'm sure ice cream has something to do with it. and i'm off to get me somma dat. have a good night, y'all.

i hope your day was filled with belly laughs and grilled cheese sandwiches.
 

don'tcha love head dancing? you're out driving, and jt's 'sexyback' comes on the radio. you just gotta crank it up to ear-melting maximum volume and bob and weave your head around the cockpit (hee, i said 'cockpit') like a monkey on speed. yyyyyeah, baybee. no rhythm necessary, because if anyone asks later you can tell them you were executing a complicated head dancing maneuver.

plausible deniability is EVERYTHING. i'm just saying.

so, i'm halfway through my cyberspace story, and got a little work done on the novel today, too. if it ever becomes readable, i'm sure i'll be begging for people to give it a peek. don't worry...i'm sure we'll all be long dead by then.

quote of the day:
"We know enough of our own history by now to be aware that people exploit what they have merely concluded to be of value, but they defend what they love. To defend what we love we need a particularizing language, for we love what we particularly know." --Wendell Berry

i've mentioned wendell before, how much i love his thinking, how he lives his life, his writing. he has a way of cutting right to the heart and understanding of complicated ideas, and he's done it again here. the question is how to make our natural world known, and it would follow, loved. how to make that need immediate to enough people that we could slow down the rampant consuming of resources.

and here i am, using electricity, petroleum products; i have meat in the freezer which i procured wrapped in plastic, sanitary, removed from the facts of where it came from. i'm no poster child for a movement. i am thinking about these things more often, and i admit i'd be open to changing how i do some things.

i have high hopes of creating a little world for me and p that we can live simply and happily in--a home with some space, some earth around it we can use for growing food, travel by bicycle or scooter, more animals at home. oh, i've got lots of ideas...y'all are rolling your eyes. i can hear you. (must be rolling 'em pretty darned hard.) that's okay. i am too, a little.

have a good night, y'all. i hope you had the chance to hug a critter today.

 

gak. i got the 3-day reminder to blog...i hate getting that thing. it's a virtual neon sign blinking 'get off yer lazy ass'.....'get off yer lazy ass'.......so, here i am.
oh, but i'm still on my lazy ass, never fear.

i got a critique yesterday for a new story i wrote (the itchy head story), and here's one of the lines:

"In the scope of less than a thousand words you have made me feel intrigued, disgusted, dirty, guilty, concerned, nauseous, entertained, uncomfortable and angry."

wow. i've never gotten a reaction like that before. i have to admit, the power had me feeling a bit giddy. takes me back to a running joke my friends have, where we try to compel our friend to get us a drink, or change the channel or whatever by saying 'you are my puppet.' i'm not a complete sociopath; i know deliberately manipulating people is asshat behavior...but the tiny secret dictator deep inside my brain is giggling with high-pitched maniacal glee right now. mwuahuahuahuaaa!!! (wait, that's a low-register maniacal guffaw)
wheeeweeeweeweee!!! *snort* (that's more like it. )

i gotta write a story this weekend for my terrace group assignment....something about the dangers of cyberspace. i've been stuck on this one, not being a tech head in the least, the idea of having to fake jargon makes my brain quiver. but, i should go try to get that done....yyyep. any minute now, i'll trip over a fantabulous idea....any minute....now...

hope y'all are having a burrito-filled saturday, extra salsa.
 

i joined this new weekly flash fiction circle. if things happen like they're supposed to, i'll be writing a new story every week. (yay!)
here's this week's:

ID: 1405621   (Rated: GC) Scratching At the Surface  Vincent has an itch. by Lauriemariepea

i'm trying to remember last year....is this the season where wdc members go to ground? do we hibernate? that's cool if we do...i'd like some advance warning, tho, like if you guys are gonna be all grumpy when you wake up.

*crickets*...................guys?...............

do i offend?
*sniffs armpits*
aw.
 

i've been spending some time on a writing site called scribophile, lately.

granted, i'm still very new there. i've been busy reading and critiquing, i've joined a weekly flash fiction group (which has been great so far!), i've posted to a few forums. i'm feeling my way around.

i've noticed a few differences from wdc:

the first is how young so many of the members are--i've come across several still in junior high school, and while they're very enthusiastic and inclusive, i wince a bit when i read some of the critiques offered on others' work. not to say we don't have hundreds of youngsters here, and more power to them (*fist in the air*)--we just have enough of everyone here to go around. young, scabby, flippant, dramatic, etc--wdc has freaking 600,000+ members, people.

the second is a thread of snobbery weaving throughout much of the site. i don't believe this is any intention of the site designers. i believe a lot of it is grounded in members' insecurity. which is well, whatever. but coming across random slamming of entire genres, or the cheerleading of knee-jerk elitist opinions is a real drag.

i love writing. i love writing for the sake of self-expression, for the intention of connecting with another person, for the hopes of providing someone a few minutes of entertainment. i don't pick my nose at any of it. i've found supportive and talented people here at wdc to hang out with and with which to share my work--i feel lucky.

i sure as hell feel luckier than those corseted ninnies at scribophile.*

so, i'll stick around a while longer, keep on with the weekly group. but visiting a new place has sure helped me appreciate even more the fabulous people i've met here. you know who you are.

hope you all had a happy easter--lots of chocolate bunnies.

________________________________________________________________

*disclaimer: i certainly don't mean to say every person i've encountered at scribophile is a corseted ninny--many have been quite pleasant and well-intentioned. i do think the folks running the site have the best intentions to create an inclusive and helpful place for writers of all ilk. i'm just tired of silly people who take themselves too seriously, and unfortunately, i've run across a much higher concentration of them there than here.




 

i smell like wet dog. you know, no matter how much shampoo you use, how long you scrub and squeegee and rinse, your dog is gonna smell like a dog. and he'll take you with him to downtown stinky dogville.*sigh*

our second bathroom went kaput today. something in the plumbing is causing a mysterious water leak from under the floor tile by the tub. and the toilet. we'd been keeping the litter box in the tub (never used the shower in there), so when it filled up with backwater from the pipes? oh, yeah. *double sigh*

but the weather is gorgeous, warm and sunny. yyyep.

and i broke my dry spell! my writer's block! i wrote a new story.

ID: 1403054   (Rated: 18+) When My Love Comes Tumbling Down  Violet mourns her lost love on a cold evening. by Lauriemariepea

if you were forced to abandon everything about your life--your home, work, family, spouse, belongings--and consequently reinvent yourself, who would you be?
would you change anything about who you are?

your first reaction may be to insist you'd be exactly who you are now, that nothing would change that. but that assumes our identities are immutable, that our perceptions of who we are never change, and that those roads never taken have no impact on the person we turned out to be.

and how would you define 'self', anyway?

check this out: (takes about 20 minutes, and is totally worth it)
http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/view/id/229

i'm not sure i'd interpret my brain bleeding out in the same way, but i love what jill says about our potential.