14 years ago
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
I'll never know
If you don't read my blog, I'll never know. No more comments means no more hurt feelings for me. I think it's for the best. I don't like feeling hurt.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
It's All In Your Head
“Meatloaf again.” Ronald sighed heavily. Just once he would love something new and exciting on the menu. Just once, to walk thru the cafeteria doors and smell the savory aroma of sweet and sour pork or something exotic like... like... crème jamwa! Ok, that was made up, but it wasn't his fault. Years of being locked up in the mental institution with the same menu playing over and over left him with little ability to truly imagine what real cuisine would sound like.
Meatloaf. Stale Pizza. Mystery Casserole. Spatetti. The most exotic thing at the institution is Weenies in Beenies. They're the ones serving the awful grule. Depressing.
Why do they do this to us? So because we're crazy we can't appreciate real food? And isn't that cruel and unusual punishment, depressing the depressed? They told him when he arrived that he wasn't being punished. “You're not bad you're just sad.” They'd said. Oh but they lied! He was being punished, and he knew it. He knew who was responsible for it too.
There was a little green ferret that liked to visit outside his window every Tuesday. Mostly the little beast just went on and on about licking things. Once Ronald didn't see it for a month, apparently it'd licked a light socket.
Yeah, it mostly just liked to lick stuff. Also, it almost always kept the same schedule. Every Tuesday at twelve o clock Ronald talked to the green ferret. He didn't really care about what the ferret had to say, he just didn't want to make it sad. Everything around him was sad, why make the ferret sad too? So he sat and he listened. Every Tuesday at twelve o clock. Every Tuesday. Every Tuesday.
But then the ferret came on Friday, and it stopped being green. It didn't talk about licking things either, no. It talked about trouble
“A man was in the tool shed eating all the pickles. And he ate chicken stuffed with grapes too. He ate everything, and so you get nothing! Nothing but your meatloaf.”
“You saw him do it? He ate my chicken and grapes?”
“Yes, and that's why I'm purple. And that's why it's Friday too!”
“But what did he look like? I must stop him.”
“Everybody looks the same to me.”
“Damn”
“But I asked him who he was, and he said he was the principal.”
“No!”
“Yes! It is the principal who does this to you now. He eats your special food and he makes you sad.”
“Did you tell him to stop?”
“No.”
“But why?”
“I don't know, but I licked him real good!”
“Where?”
“You don't want to know... but he won't forget it!”
Now all Ronald had to do is find the principal. He used to be real good at finding the principal, but now he forgot all that. You have to divide something and add... he didn't know what, but there was a formula if he could just remember what it was.
Maybe if he just asked to see the principal? Yes, he could try that. Ronald has to meet with a head doctor everyday. He was told it was protocol. Sometimes there would be a group, other times it was just him. He would wait until it was just him, then he would ask the shrink if he could see the principal. It was so crazy, it just might work.
He had to wait two whole weeks, but then it was finally his turn to be alone with the psychiatrist.
“Doctor, I'm worried. I think I need to see the principal.”
“Why do you need to see the principal, you can talk to me.”
“Not this time. You're great, you really are, but I think the principal is the only one who can help me with my greatest problem.”
“Are you sure I can't help you with your greatest problem. I'm very good with problems, of every size.”
“That's very kind, but I'm afraid not. Only the principal can help me now.”
“I see. And have you ever been to see the principal before?”
“Well, no.”
“Have you ever seen the principal?”
“No, I suppose not.”
“But you're sure he can help you?”
“Oh yes, quite sure. He will help me, I just know it.”
“Very well. I didn't want to say anything earlier until I knew you were sure, but you see I am the principal.”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Meatloaf. Stale Pizza. Mystery Casserole. Spatetti. The most exotic thing at the institution is Weenies in Beenies. They're the ones serving the awful grule. Depressing.
Why do they do this to us? So because we're crazy we can't appreciate real food? And isn't that cruel and unusual punishment, depressing the depressed? They told him when he arrived that he wasn't being punished. “You're not bad you're just sad.” They'd said. Oh but they lied! He was being punished, and he knew it. He knew who was responsible for it too.
There was a little green ferret that liked to visit outside his window every Tuesday. Mostly the little beast just went on and on about licking things. Once Ronald didn't see it for a month, apparently it'd licked a light socket.
Yeah, it mostly just liked to lick stuff. Also, it almost always kept the same schedule. Every Tuesday at twelve o clock Ronald talked to the green ferret. He didn't really care about what the ferret had to say, he just didn't want to make it sad. Everything around him was sad, why make the ferret sad too? So he sat and he listened. Every Tuesday at twelve o clock. Every Tuesday. Every Tuesday.
But then the ferret came on Friday, and it stopped being green. It didn't talk about licking things either, no. It talked about trouble
“A man was in the tool shed eating all the pickles. And he ate chicken stuffed with grapes too. He ate everything, and so you get nothing! Nothing but your meatloaf.”
“You saw him do it? He ate my chicken and grapes?”
“Yes, and that's why I'm purple. And that's why it's Friday too!”
“But what did he look like? I must stop him.”
“Everybody looks the same to me.”
“Damn”
“But I asked him who he was, and he said he was the principal.”
“No!”
“Yes! It is the principal who does this to you now. He eats your special food and he makes you sad.”
“Did you tell him to stop?”
“No.”
“But why?”
“I don't know, but I licked him real good!”
“Where?”
“You don't want to know... but he won't forget it!”
Now all Ronald had to do is find the principal. He used to be real good at finding the principal, but now he forgot all that. You have to divide something and add... he didn't know what, but there was a formula if he could just remember what it was.
Maybe if he just asked to see the principal? Yes, he could try that. Ronald has to meet with a head doctor everyday. He was told it was protocol. Sometimes there would be a group, other times it was just him. He would wait until it was just him, then he would ask the shrink if he could see the principal. It was so crazy, it just might work.
He had to wait two whole weeks, but then it was finally his turn to be alone with the psychiatrist.
“Doctor, I'm worried. I think I need to see the principal.”
“Why do you need to see the principal, you can talk to me.”
“Not this time. You're great, you really are, but I think the principal is the only one who can help me with my greatest problem.”
“Are you sure I can't help you with your greatest problem. I'm very good with problems, of every size.”
“That's very kind, but I'm afraid not. Only the principal can help me now.”
“I see. And have you ever been to see the principal before?”
“Well, no.”
“Have you ever seen the principal?”
“No, I suppose not.”
“But you're sure he can help you?”
“Oh yes, quite sure. He will help me, I just know it.”
“Very well. I didn't want to say anything earlier until I knew you were sure, but you see I am the principal.”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Douglas
Some people are like piles of dirty clothes. Here's the catch, its not a pile of your clothes, or anybody's clothes, but its in the middle of your living room.
Obviously the clothes need to be dealt with, but who's gonna do it? Certainly, nobody wants to deal with a dirty old pile of nobody's clothes. A laundromat will take care of it, but that's not cheap. Who will pay for a laundromat for nobody's clothes?
Beneath the smell and the dirt, really its just clothes, but nobody sees that anymore. Now all anybody can see is a chore. All anybody can see is time out of a busy day for something that's just going to leave them feeling tired.
Lots of times what happens is the clothes just stay right where they are. People will just walk around the clothes or pretend they aren't there anymore. Every once in a while, out of guilt I suppose, someone will look at the clothes and say “Oh I wish someone would do something about this dirty old pile of clothes. It's been here so long.” Then they sigh and walk away feeling as though they've done their part to help.
Other times, a more ambitious person might pick at the pile a little and comment here and there. “Oh it's really not so dirty or old, is it? No.” Maybe they think that a compliment will make the clothes feel better about being so alone. Or maybe the compliment is meant to make them feel better because they know they don't plan to stick around. Its hard to say.
I think a dirty old pile of nobody's clothes is exactly the right way to describe Douglas. He came into this world healthy enough, but a bad car accident damaged his brain when he was thirty five. Now he's forty eight, but he reasons, plays, and talks like a ten year old. He's just a great big gray-haired kid with a poorly trimmed mustache that's usually carrying a little bit of whatever he ate last in it.
Up until last year, Douglas lived in a double wide trailer with his disabled mother. His heart was broken when she had to be moved to a nursing home, but even he knew that it had to be done. So now he lives alone, just him and his little eight year old toy poodle named Noodlehead.
Noodlehead the poodle has a few lumps in his back that cause him to limp a little. He recently had to have a large tumor removed from the inside of his cheek. Toy poodles don't usually live much longer than eight to ten years. Hmm.
Douglas walks Noodlehead faithfully everyday, several times a day. As he walks he stops to talk to anyone who will stop when he starts to talk. He tries everybody. He doesn't want to go home.
Everybody knows that Douglas is “special,” so nobody's mean to him. At the same time, nobody really wants to have more than just a light friendly chat with him either. Can you really blame them? Ten year olds are still somewhat cute when they do or say stupid stuff. Forty eight year olds just aren't.
Nobody really knows what to say to someone like Douglas anyway. Most people in the neighborhood either pretend they don't see him or they wave quickly and pretend they can't stop. The ones that do stop usually regret it. Douglas knows how to make the most out of what was meant to be a short conversation...
Obviously the clothes need to be dealt with, but who's gonna do it? Certainly, nobody wants to deal with a dirty old pile of nobody's clothes. A laundromat will take care of it, but that's not cheap. Who will pay for a laundromat for nobody's clothes?
Beneath the smell and the dirt, really its just clothes, but nobody sees that anymore. Now all anybody can see is a chore. All anybody can see is time out of a busy day for something that's just going to leave them feeling tired.
Lots of times what happens is the clothes just stay right where they are. People will just walk around the clothes or pretend they aren't there anymore. Every once in a while, out of guilt I suppose, someone will look at the clothes and say “Oh I wish someone would do something about this dirty old pile of clothes. It's been here so long.” Then they sigh and walk away feeling as though they've done their part to help.
Other times, a more ambitious person might pick at the pile a little and comment here and there. “Oh it's really not so dirty or old, is it? No.” Maybe they think that a compliment will make the clothes feel better about being so alone. Or maybe the compliment is meant to make them feel better because they know they don't plan to stick around. Its hard to say.
I think a dirty old pile of nobody's clothes is exactly the right way to describe Douglas. He came into this world healthy enough, but a bad car accident damaged his brain when he was thirty five. Now he's forty eight, but he reasons, plays, and talks like a ten year old. He's just a great big gray-haired kid with a poorly trimmed mustache that's usually carrying a little bit of whatever he ate last in it.
Up until last year, Douglas lived in a double wide trailer with his disabled mother. His heart was broken when she had to be moved to a nursing home, but even he knew that it had to be done. So now he lives alone, just him and his little eight year old toy poodle named Noodlehead.
Noodlehead the poodle has a few lumps in his back that cause him to limp a little. He recently had to have a large tumor removed from the inside of his cheek. Toy poodles don't usually live much longer than eight to ten years. Hmm.
Douglas walks Noodlehead faithfully everyday, several times a day. As he walks he stops to talk to anyone who will stop when he starts to talk. He tries everybody. He doesn't want to go home.
Everybody knows that Douglas is “special,” so nobody's mean to him. At the same time, nobody really wants to have more than just a light friendly chat with him either. Can you really blame them? Ten year olds are still somewhat cute when they do or say stupid stuff. Forty eight year olds just aren't.
Nobody really knows what to say to someone like Douglas anyway. Most people in the neighborhood either pretend they don't see him or they wave quickly and pretend they can't stop. The ones that do stop usually regret it. Douglas knows how to make the most out of what was meant to be a short conversation...
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Popular Girls Can't
I've known since about the third grade that I am, how you say, a LOSER! :)What does that mean, you may be asking yourself. Or maybe you're not asking that because you are and have always been popular so you know exactly what it means when somebody is a loser because you are part of the crowd that does the defining on all that good stuff. Either way. That is what I was labled. That is how it went down.
So what does it mean to be a loser. Well, I think it may vary a bit from person to person, but there is a common theme for sure. Basically you get left alone by most people.
For me it was like this.
New girl wears purple corderoys, doesn't flip her hair, and wants to play tag.... yeah, loser! Oh yeah, plus there's six kids in her family and their mormons. Need we say more???
I didn't like being a loser when I was a kid because I didn't know what it really meant to be one.
What does it mean to be a loser? Freedom when you finally understand it.
If I could, I would go back and do it all over again with this knowledge in hand. I wouldn't be nearly so ashamed of myself. It woulda been like this:
It's so nice that I don't have to go to the bathroom when all the other girls get up to go. I'm glad they don't stare and clear their throats at me like I'm supposed to understand that. I can just stay right where I'm at and finish what I'm eating. If they ever do look at me, all they're ever gonna get is: "What, did you forget where it was?"
I can listen to whatever music I want to. "Oh you hate that song cuz its so dorky? Uh... so? Am I supposed to care that you just told me that? I am dorky bit--. What!? I listen to what I want."
I can eat whatever I want. "Eeeeew, that looks like throw up. You just ate throw up! What a loser!"
"Yep. Mmmmm chips and throw up, ssss-good!"
I can drip it on my shirt too, and I don't gots ta worry none at all... Seee???
I don't have to run to the bathroom to "freshen up" my make up or hair or whatever the hell girls do in the bathroom for sooooooo long. That one kinda goes along with the don't have to get up when they do thing.
I don't have to worry if I've got the hair toss thing down. I'd rather pick a wedgie.
I don't have to worry if anybody saw me pick that afore mentioned wedgie. "What?!"
I don't have to wear the right shoes with my dress that I'm not putting on to begin with.
I don't have to worry about wearing the wrong kind of make-up.
I don't have to worry if the boys don't like my boobies cuz their small.
I never have to try to think of something "cool" to say, I can just say what I really think.
I don't have to be friends with anyone I don't want to so people will think I'm so great or whatever.
I don't have to keep tabs for the rest of my life on those afore mentioned friends that I didn't bother to make.
There's a lot of things I don't have to do, and things I get to do that you cool kids can't (even if you secretly think it looks like fun. ) Don't want people to think you're a loser, now, do we? No you can not slide down the school stairs on a cardboard box. But I can weeeeeeee!!!
Instead I spent most of my time ashamed of my lable and not appreciating it nearly enough.
I do that sometimes today too, but then I remember and I smile and pick a wedge. :)
So what does it mean to be a loser. Well, I think it may vary a bit from person to person, but there is a common theme for sure. Basically you get left alone by most people.
For me it was like this.
New girl wears purple corderoys, doesn't flip her hair, and wants to play tag.... yeah, loser! Oh yeah, plus there's six kids in her family and their mormons. Need we say more???
I didn't like being a loser when I was a kid because I didn't know what it really meant to be one.
What does it mean to be a loser? Freedom when you finally understand it.
If I could, I would go back and do it all over again with this knowledge in hand. I wouldn't be nearly so ashamed of myself. It woulda been like this:
It's so nice that I don't have to go to the bathroom when all the other girls get up to go. I'm glad they don't stare and clear their throats at me like I'm supposed to understand that. I can just stay right where I'm at and finish what I'm eating. If they ever do look at me, all they're ever gonna get is: "What, did you forget where it was?"
I can listen to whatever music I want to. "Oh you hate that song cuz its so dorky? Uh... so? Am I supposed to care that you just told me that? I am dorky bit--. What!? I listen to what I want."
I can eat whatever I want. "Eeeeew, that looks like throw up. You just ate throw up! What a loser!"
"Yep. Mmmmm chips and throw up, ssss-good!"
I can drip it on my shirt too, and I don't gots ta worry none at all... Seee???
I don't have to run to the bathroom to "freshen up" my make up or hair or whatever the hell girls do in the bathroom for sooooooo long. That one kinda goes along with the don't have to get up when they do thing.
I don't have to worry if I've got the hair toss thing down. I'd rather pick a wedgie.
I don't have to worry if anybody saw me pick that afore mentioned wedgie. "What?!"
I don't have to wear the right shoes with my dress that I'm not putting on to begin with.
I don't have to worry about wearing the wrong kind of make-up.
I don't have to worry if the boys don't like my boobies cuz their small.
I never have to try to think of something "cool" to say, I can just say what I really think.
I don't have to be friends with anyone I don't want to so people will think I'm so great or whatever.
I don't have to keep tabs for the rest of my life on those afore mentioned friends that I didn't bother to make.
There's a lot of things I don't have to do, and things I get to do that you cool kids can't (even if you secretly think it looks like fun. ) Don't want people to think you're a loser, now, do we? No you can not slide down the school stairs on a cardboard box. But I can weeeeeeee!!!
Instead I spent most of my time ashamed of my lable and not appreciating it nearly enough.
I do that sometimes today too, but then I remember and I smile and pick a wedge. :)
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Can I Scare You??? :)
You may be wondering what I do when my husband works all night and I have trouble sleeping. Well, tonight it was a late-night writing exercise called "can I scare you and/or make you laugh?"
I dunno, let's see shall we:
Normally the crickets in this part of town are loud, to say the least. Oh, and the dogs'll drive you nuts, ya know? They just bark and howl and threaten each other all night long from behind their inglorious little, chain-linked domains.
But not last night.
There was a strange, engulfing silence last night. It was almost supernatural in its effect, and it came with a buzz too; a creepy little tingle that made its way up the back of my neck as I stared down the long, dark pathway that was my only way home.
The air was tepid, boring really except for the gentle breeze that caressed my face hinting of rotted pumpkins and warm tequila. Guess that should have been my first clue.
In my own defense, I did hesitate, but I couldn't stand there forever. I had a curfew.
I stepped forward carefully, but I tried to look like I had a purpose. I had my eyes on everything as I moved, nay strutted past garbage cans, tall fences, and bushes that could probably hide Sasquatch along with two of his closest friends.
I wanted to seem untouchable, ya know? Like a real bad-ass... but at 5 ft 2 weighing in at a buck five, I doubt that came across.
I'm not sure exactly when the silence ended, but somewhere along the line, as I was walking, it was replaced by kind of a low hum sound. I think I only noticed it because by then the breeze had stopped for a bit.
Like I say, I don't know when it started, but I noticed it about the same time that I passed the Leberman's house. You remember the Leberman's? Anyway, they're the ones that live in that huge green house. 'S the only green house on the block. They've got those weird lookin acorn trees. Their not like normal acorn trees. Seriously, they've got these drippy things that just sort of hang down like.....
Oh, I guess you don't know what I'm talking about. Most people know what I'm talking about when I say “the green house,” huh...
Anyway, I stopped to listen for a minute or two, but I couldn't figure out what the sound was. After a while I just felt stupid standing there like that. I told myself there was no reason to be scared. I was gonna be home real soon... yadda yadda. And I started walking again, right? Cuz that's what you do when you gotta get home.
But then there was that crazy breeze again.
This time I just stopped dead in my tracks. 'Woah. That aint no rotting pumpkin.'
That humming sound had gotten real loud now too, ya know? It was loud enough I could tell it was more like a lot of hums together. The sound was coming from somewhere around the next fence. It was just out of sight. Only now there were other sounds too.
I don't even know... I still don't even know how to....
There wasn't much alley left. Just a couple more houses, really. I figured, maybe if I just ran for it, ya know? I wouldn't even look, right? But my feet wouldn't budge. It was like they knew what was around that fence. I didn't know, but my feet KNEW, and all they wanted to do was hide... so I hid.
I tiptoed over to the nearest empty garbage can and climbed right in. I'm not sure how I got in without tipping the whole damned thing over, especially since I had to keep a grip on the lid. Seriously, if I'd dropped that lid, there's just no way I could have reached it again without really making some noise, ya know? Yeah, that would've been bad....
I've heard it said that fear is a great motivator, guess that must really be true because I got in that can fast and quiet, and I didn't drop the lid.
When I got inside, real quick I placed the lid just so. I left barely enough of a crack so I could peek out a bit; not too much though. I mean, I was pretty scared, but I was curious too, right?
The thing is, I think I just barely got inside that can at the exact right time. Honestly, I didn't even get the chance to smell the damned thing and I could already see something moving out from around that fence.
Whoever it was... whatever it was, I couldn't tell at first, but it was big. I was trying to see through the foliage of a very healthy virginia creeper. I was also holding my breath trying not to move... or pee my pants.
I was never good at hid-and-seek. For real, it doesn't matter how many times I go to the bathroom, if I hide I have to pee, NOW.
Anyway, just as soon as I got situated inside that old garbage can, something started moving out from around that fence. All I could think was 'Shit, maybe I made more noise than I thought.'
My heart was pounding, trying to force me to breath all fast and noisy. I had to concentrate hard: 'Breath in slow, quiet- out slow, quiet. Don't pee... don't pee...'
I heard more weird noises along with some rustling sounds, like it bumped the vine or something. Then there it was right in front of me. This massive.... thing.
I got a real good look at it too. It must have been slumped over or something when it was on the other side of the fence because now that it was right in front of me I could see that it's head cleared that fence by about a foot and a half.
I think it was naked. It didn't have any fur. It's skin was sallow and pale and it had this stuff hanging from it here and there. The stuff wasn't at all like clothes or anything; just stuff. I don't know what it was.
Seriously, it looked naked and it didn't have, well ...“bits and pieces” like yours or mine, if you know what I mean. Ahem. Actually, it didn't have any bits and pieces at all that I could tell. Not that I was all focused in on its bits or anything! It's just that if you're naked and they're missing its kinda hard not to notice, ya know?
The thing sniffed at the air in my general direction. 'Oh, that's not good.'
I couldn't see it's eyes too good, but I think it was squinting maybe. It's face was all smushed in and hard to define. Everything except for its mouth, that is. I could see its mouth just fine because it jutted out almost an inch from the rest of his face. No lips, just gums and teeth. Sickly yellow, jagged teeth dripping with ooze that was clear in some places and black in others. The teeth were parted by a long black tongue that rolled gently in and out ever so slightly.
No jiblets, lots of teeth, really big... that's about all I was able to take in, and that's about all I remember because then it made another sound. I have never heard a sound like that in my whole life. I hope I never hear it again.
Even though it was probably at least eight to ten feet away from me, the sound was loud like it was right in my ear, but soft at the same time like it was saying something just to me. It was like a growl a hiss a purr and a shriek all at the same time.
My leg got really warm.
I know it sounds crazy, but whatever it said I think it was happy. Satisfied or something.
I was sure it knew exactly where I was, but then it just went away.
'Did it know where I was and maybe it just didn't care? Was it calling to some other something that was hanging around in the shadows? Did it really leave?' I didn't know, so I didn't move. I never slept. I waited until I heard the sirens. When I peeked under the lid I could see lots of people gathered around so I came out.
Anyway, so that's it. That's what I saw. I swear I'm not drunk and I'm not hungover. In fact, I've never had a drink in my life. That thing is real, whatever it was, and it's out there. It's probably eating somebody else right now. Another poor drunk s-o-b maybe.
That's ok, you don't have to take me seriously as long as you take me home. It's getting late again and I really don't want to walk...
I dunno, let's see shall we:
Normally the crickets in this part of town are loud, to say the least. Oh, and the dogs'll drive you nuts, ya know? They just bark and howl and threaten each other all night long from behind their inglorious little, chain-linked domains.
But not last night.
There was a strange, engulfing silence last night. It was almost supernatural in its effect, and it came with a buzz too; a creepy little tingle that made its way up the back of my neck as I stared down the long, dark pathway that was my only way home.
The air was tepid, boring really except for the gentle breeze that caressed my face hinting of rotted pumpkins and warm tequila. Guess that should have been my first clue.
In my own defense, I did hesitate, but I couldn't stand there forever. I had a curfew.
I stepped forward carefully, but I tried to look like I had a purpose. I had my eyes on everything as I moved, nay strutted past garbage cans, tall fences, and bushes that could probably hide Sasquatch along with two of his closest friends.
I wanted to seem untouchable, ya know? Like a real bad-ass... but at 5 ft 2 weighing in at a buck five, I doubt that came across.
I'm not sure exactly when the silence ended, but somewhere along the line, as I was walking, it was replaced by kind of a low hum sound. I think I only noticed it because by then the breeze had stopped for a bit.
Like I say, I don't know when it started, but I noticed it about the same time that I passed the Leberman's house. You remember the Leberman's? Anyway, they're the ones that live in that huge green house. 'S the only green house on the block. They've got those weird lookin acorn trees. Their not like normal acorn trees. Seriously, they've got these drippy things that just sort of hang down like.....
Oh, I guess you don't know what I'm talking about. Most people know what I'm talking about when I say “the green house,” huh...
Anyway, I stopped to listen for a minute or two, but I couldn't figure out what the sound was. After a while I just felt stupid standing there like that. I told myself there was no reason to be scared. I was gonna be home real soon... yadda yadda. And I started walking again, right? Cuz that's what you do when you gotta get home.
But then there was that crazy breeze again.
This time I just stopped dead in my tracks. 'Woah. That aint no rotting pumpkin.'
That humming sound had gotten real loud now too, ya know? It was loud enough I could tell it was more like a lot of hums together. The sound was coming from somewhere around the next fence. It was just out of sight. Only now there were other sounds too.
I don't even know... I still don't even know how to....
There wasn't much alley left. Just a couple more houses, really. I figured, maybe if I just ran for it, ya know? I wouldn't even look, right? But my feet wouldn't budge. It was like they knew what was around that fence. I didn't know, but my feet KNEW, and all they wanted to do was hide... so I hid.
I tiptoed over to the nearest empty garbage can and climbed right in. I'm not sure how I got in without tipping the whole damned thing over, especially since I had to keep a grip on the lid. Seriously, if I'd dropped that lid, there's just no way I could have reached it again without really making some noise, ya know? Yeah, that would've been bad....
I've heard it said that fear is a great motivator, guess that must really be true because I got in that can fast and quiet, and I didn't drop the lid.
When I got inside, real quick I placed the lid just so. I left barely enough of a crack so I could peek out a bit; not too much though. I mean, I was pretty scared, but I was curious too, right?
The thing is, I think I just barely got inside that can at the exact right time. Honestly, I didn't even get the chance to smell the damned thing and I could already see something moving out from around that fence.
Whoever it was... whatever it was, I couldn't tell at first, but it was big. I was trying to see through the foliage of a very healthy virginia creeper. I was also holding my breath trying not to move... or pee my pants.
I was never good at hid-and-seek. For real, it doesn't matter how many times I go to the bathroom, if I hide I have to pee, NOW.
Anyway, just as soon as I got situated inside that old garbage can, something started moving out from around that fence. All I could think was 'Shit, maybe I made more noise than I thought.'
My heart was pounding, trying to force me to breath all fast and noisy. I had to concentrate hard: 'Breath in slow, quiet- out slow, quiet. Don't pee... don't pee...'
I heard more weird noises along with some rustling sounds, like it bumped the vine or something. Then there it was right in front of me. This massive.... thing.
I got a real good look at it too. It must have been slumped over or something when it was on the other side of the fence because now that it was right in front of me I could see that it's head cleared that fence by about a foot and a half.
I think it was naked. It didn't have any fur. It's skin was sallow and pale and it had this stuff hanging from it here and there. The stuff wasn't at all like clothes or anything; just stuff. I don't know what it was.
Seriously, it looked naked and it didn't have, well ...“bits and pieces” like yours or mine, if you know what I mean. Ahem. Actually, it didn't have any bits and pieces at all that I could tell. Not that I was all focused in on its bits or anything! It's just that if you're naked and they're missing its kinda hard not to notice, ya know?
The thing sniffed at the air in my general direction. 'Oh, that's not good.'
I couldn't see it's eyes too good, but I think it was squinting maybe. It's face was all smushed in and hard to define. Everything except for its mouth, that is. I could see its mouth just fine because it jutted out almost an inch from the rest of his face. No lips, just gums and teeth. Sickly yellow, jagged teeth dripping with ooze that was clear in some places and black in others. The teeth were parted by a long black tongue that rolled gently in and out ever so slightly.
No jiblets, lots of teeth, really big... that's about all I was able to take in, and that's about all I remember because then it made another sound. I have never heard a sound like that in my whole life. I hope I never hear it again.
Even though it was probably at least eight to ten feet away from me, the sound was loud like it was right in my ear, but soft at the same time like it was saying something just to me. It was like a growl a hiss a purr and a shriek all at the same time.
My leg got really warm.
I know it sounds crazy, but whatever it said I think it was happy. Satisfied or something.
I was sure it knew exactly where I was, but then it just went away.
'Did it know where I was and maybe it just didn't care? Was it calling to some other something that was hanging around in the shadows? Did it really leave?' I didn't know, so I didn't move. I never slept. I waited until I heard the sirens. When I peeked under the lid I could see lots of people gathered around so I came out.
Anyway, so that's it. That's what I saw. I swear I'm not drunk and I'm not hungover. In fact, I've never had a drink in my life. That thing is real, whatever it was, and it's out there. It's probably eating somebody else right now. Another poor drunk s-o-b maybe.
That's ok, you don't have to take me seriously as long as you take me home. It's getting late again and I really don't want to walk...
Thursday, September 17, 2009
My kids, spotlight on Cookie
My kids are so funny. "Take a picture of me, mommy!" Ok... here are some kid-burrito pictures:
mmmmm,
mmmmm,
tasty.
Friday, September 4, 2009
More Flies with Honey and all that
Me to customer support:
Ok, in my main menu nothing says music library. I ve searched this wholddamned device... no music library option at all. I can create a playlist, but I don t know where the hell it goes after that. This does me no good. I got this thing from a friend. Its used. Maybe somebody de leted my music library option??? How can I fix this? How can I get to myplaylists? Thank you for your time. Sorry about my extreme frusterationhere. Please help. Michelle
Customer support to me:
Dear Michelle, Thank you for reaching us at Creative Technical Support; we appreciate the opportunity to assist you. Could you kindly visit the following links: http://support.creative.com/kb/ShowArticle.aspx?sid=59867 Besides, I would like to inform you that based upon your product's date of purchase, it appears you're beyond the complementary telephone (60 days) and e-mail (1 year) support period. If you are covered under a Creative Care Protection Plan (CCPP) and are within the warranty and service coverage of your plan, please reply backwith the e-mail address the plan was purchased under, as well as your CCPP order and reference number. If you still require assistance, please reply to this email with any previous correspondence to ensure the quickest and most accurate service. Best Regards,
Technical Support
Creative Labs Americas
Me back to customer support:
Wow,
That was the most polite way to say "@$#%-off s#^nk" that I've ever read. Awesome. And, you didn't even read my question. Damn. It's pretty funny, but at the same time it's not.I hope someday you have a job that you can be passionate about. I honestly don't mean that sarcastically. If that ever does happens for you, you'll know it because you wont find yourself looking for every little excuse to NOT have to do it. Wouldn't that be cool? To love what you do and be happy doing it?The only reason most people don't have that is because most people don'tthink it's attainable. They don't even try. They just accept being miserable like it's normal. It's not. You really could be happy. Think about it... if you can ever find the time.I wish you happiness, even if you are a complete stranger who blew me off when you could have helped me if you'd wanted to,
Michelle
Customer support back to me:
Dear Michelle,
Thank you for getting back to us at Creative Technical Support. Michelle, please ensure that Music Library is checked under the configure Menu Option. Please refer to given steps below:1. In the Main Menu, select System->Display Setting->Configure Menu.2. Ensure that Music Library is checked. You will see this item on the main menu subsequentlyIf you still require assistance, please reply to this email with any previous correspondence to ensure the quickest and most accurate service.Best Regards,
Technical Support
Creative Labs Americas
Soooooo...... Now my Zen works! How cool is that?
Ok, in my main menu nothing says music library. I ve searched this wholddamned device... no music library option at all. I can create a playlist, but I don t know where the hell it goes after that. This does me no good. I got this thing from a friend. Its used. Maybe somebody de leted my music library option??? How can I fix this? How can I get to myplaylists? Thank you for your time. Sorry about my extreme frusterationhere. Please help. Michelle
Customer support to me:
Dear Michelle, Thank you for reaching us at Creative Technical Support; we appreciate the opportunity to assist you. Could you kindly visit the following links: http://support.creative.com/kb/ShowArticle.aspx?sid=59867 Besides, I would like to inform you that based upon your product's date of purchase, it appears you're beyond the complementary telephone (60 days) and e-mail (1 year) support period. If you are covered under a Creative Care Protection Plan (CCPP) and are within the warranty and service coverage of your plan, please reply backwith the e-mail address the plan was purchased under, as well as your CCPP order and reference number. If you still require assistance, please reply to this email with any previous correspondence to ensure the quickest and most accurate service. Best Regards,
Technical Support
Creative Labs Americas
Me back to customer support:
Wow,
That was the most polite way to say "@$#%-off s#^nk" that I've ever read. Awesome. And, you didn't even read my question. Damn. It's pretty funny, but at the same time it's not.I hope someday you have a job that you can be passionate about. I honestly don't mean that sarcastically. If that ever does happens for you, you'll know it because you wont find yourself looking for every little excuse to NOT have to do it. Wouldn't that be cool? To love what you do and be happy doing it?The only reason most people don't have that is because most people don'tthink it's attainable. They don't even try. They just accept being miserable like it's normal. It's not. You really could be happy. Think about it... if you can ever find the time.I wish you happiness, even if you are a complete stranger who blew me off when you could have helped me if you'd wanted to,
Michelle
Customer support back to me:
Dear Michelle,
Thank you for getting back to us at Creative Technical Support. Michelle, please ensure that Music Library is checked under the configure Menu Option. Please refer to given steps below:1. In the Main Menu, select System->Display Setting->Configure Menu.2. Ensure that Music Library is checked. You will see this item on the main menu subsequentlyIf you still require assistance, please reply to this email with any previous correspondence to ensure the quickest and most accurate service.Best Regards,
Technical Support
Creative Labs Americas
Soooooo...... Now my Zen works! How cool is that?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
