Thursday, November 29, 2012

Dreams or Reality? - BFF 246

The following is a fictional story I wrote in response of the BFF photo prompt for this week.  I hope you enjoy it.

     Diana awoke to find herself in the middle of a long hallway.  The floors were tiled in white and black.  She stood up, grabbed her best friend Bear, and made her way along it.  It seemed to stretch on forever.  The end of the hallway glowed with an inviting light.  She knew instinctively that she needed to find out what was at the end of the long hall.   She had no clue where she would end up but she was dying to find out.  In her excitement, she broke into a run.  Finally she came to the end where two doors stood side by side.



      How curious she thought.  Each door had a sign.  One was labeled “Dreams” and the other “Reality”.  A clock hung on the wall in between ticking in time with her heart beat.  She puzzled over which door to choose.  Certainly she could visit both, right?  If she visited both she could decide which world she preferred.  The question was which would she visit first and where would she decide to remain.  What did she dream her life to be?  She wished to be blissfully happy of course and married to none other than Prince Charming living in a big fairytale castle far, far away but what else did she dream?  Would she dream to be a famous movie star, talented artist, or a skilled surgeon?  In her dreams would she be filthy rich?  Certainly all those dreams would be preferable to what reality would hold in store for her.  Reality was an unknown and while it could hold happiness, it could also hold despair.  There would be no guarantees if she chose reality.  She started for the door of dreams, but a nagging sensation held her back.  Again she contemplated both doors.  What if her dreams took on a horrific twist and resembled a nightmare more than the happily ever after she had envisioned?  What if she went through the door of dreams and found herself in a twisted world where nothing made sense, much as Alice did when she fell down the rabbit hole.



 

      Diana moved closer to reality.  What did she really want in life?  Did she want the perfect fairy tale?  Well of course!  Everyone did!  Confused she stepped closer to the land of dreams only to be stopped by misgivings once again.  Did she really want to throw herself into a world where nothing ever made sense and things were never as they seemed?  Did she want to take the chance that what lied behind the door of dreams was the culmination of wishes and happiness instead of confusion and terror?

 

       Her mind made up she purposefully took the path to reality.  She chose to live her life as it came, enjoying each day and counting her blessings in each one instead of living with her head in the pink, fluffy clouds of dreamland.  She chose to accept that life wouldn’t be perfect; but that she would develop strength, courage, and wisdom the longer she remained in reality.  At least in reality, everything would eventually make sense  if only in hindsight.  The door of dreams beckoned like a forbidden fruit dangling enticingly in front of her.  No, she would not take it.  Look what happened to Adam and Eve when they ate the forbidden fruit!!   She would follow destiny’s path and learn the lessons in life she was meant to.  There was also that feeling of foreboding that overwhelmed her whenever she stepped closer to the land of dreams that scared her into believing that whichever door she chose was a final choice.  She feared she would never be able to return to the hall of decision once she crossed the threshold of either door.  The clock between the two doors chimed.

        She knew instinctively that her time to choose was running out.  A chill of terror crept up her spine as she raced for the door of reality, flung the door open and rushed inside.  The door slammed shut behind her and soon she was falling.  She landed in a heap in her very own bed drenched in sweat.  The overhead light illuminated as her mother rushed in and quickly gathered her in her arms.


 

    “Diana, are you all right?  You were crying out in your sleep!  Shhh, Mommy‘s here.  It was just a dream!” she said as she held Diana close and smoothed the curls on her sweaty brow.  Diana burrowed into the loving embrace of her Mother relieved she had chosen the door that led her home.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

The Damn Scale

The GBE2 writing prompt challenged me to write a bit of fiction or an essay using only one syllable words.  This is my submission.  I hope you enjoy it!

      She cracked the egg.  She could only have one.  She longed for more.  She grabbed the dry toast.  Screw it! It was a whole piece, not a half.  Who would toast only a half?  She poured her juice and took her pill.  Her plate looked bare.  She ate.

     The egg, toast, and juice were gone too fast.   Where did it all go?   The hours stretched out till lunch, and then  they stretched some more to the next meal.  She weighed again and sighed.  The scale read the same as the last time.  She sighed once more.   Why won’t the weight drop as fast as it was gained?   I know, the scale must be junk!  Time for a new scale!

Monday, November 26, 2012

Invisible People

Jo at "My Wandering Mind" is this week's host for the Writer's Post Blog Hop.  Thank you Jo for the great writing prompt!    

    Have you ever noticed how easy electronics make it to be invisible?  A person can literally hole up in their house for days on end invisible from the world.  The internet allows a person to never have to really interact with anyone.  The folks online on social networks are real, but we can’t see them or touch them.  You can have hundreds of friends and family on Face Book and still be the most isolated person in the world.  Face Book makes it easy to keep connected with others without ever having to see or talk to them in real life.


 

      The need for family dinners and reunions cease because everyone already knows everybody’s business without ever having to really interact with that person or get together.  Typing “hugs” and offering up prayers takes the place of the real thing.  In my estimation, it is a poor substitute.  The channels that bring us together like Twitter and Face Book are the exact same channels that keep us apart.  Most folks won’t waste their time picking up the phone or getting together.  They will stay invisible silently stalking their friends and relatives to see just what they are up to instead of having the balls to ask them to their face or giving them a call on the telephone.  Still others will go so far as to isolate themselves further by turning off their chat so they can see everyone’s movements and statuses without being seen themselves.  I have even watched family feuds and friend’s fights unfold on Face Book in front of me and everyone else in the planet that happens to be on that person’s friend list.  People feed on drama and comedy on social networks as much as they flock to watch favorite shows on television.

 

        We all thirst for a connection to the invisible people that inhabit social sites like Face Book which is why they are such a hit.  We are drawn to them.  It is far easier to log on to Face Book than to actually take time to dial a number on the phone or visit and pass out those hugs in person.  It is a lot less hassle.   It is easier to grab a random opponent for a quick game of “Words with Friends”, or play “Pet Society” with a group of folks you will never meet in real life than to round up some living, breathing bodies for a quick game.  In ways social networks bring people from all over the world closer together making it possible to interact with others no matter how far away they are.  It breaks the barriers and brings together folks of like minded views who would have probably never gotten together otherwise.  In other ways, they isolate us further making it so much easier for loners like me to rely on invisible people for companionship and entertainment rather than venturing out into the real world to interact with others until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Half Empty or Half Full?

This weeks Writer's Post Blog Hop's host is Angela at Journey of Life.  Thank you Angela for the thought provoking picture prompt.

     As the days draw closer to Thanksgiving, I have begun to reflect on what I have to be thankful for and whether my proverbial glass in life is half empty or half full.  That is a good question, and Angela’s prompt demands an answer.  I have stared at the picture prompt for most of the week thinking about what my take is on this subject.

 


       When I was younger I was a pessimist due to circumstance.  My glass was half empty and I couldn’t begin to imagine how it would ever become half full let alone come to the point of overflowing with happiness.  At that point in time it was a lot easier to imagine my cup half empty if not overflowing with despair.  Those experiences in my life taught me that it was all about attitude.  I chose to let circumstance beat me.  I chose to be depressed.  I chose to care what everyone else thought.  I was so deeply mired in my own unhappiness I was forced to take antidepressants to cope with everything that was going on.


      At some point in life my attitude changed.  My cup began to look half full and at some points overflowed with happiness.  My attitude changed.  I forgave myself for mistakes and the ultimate sin of not being perfect.  I forgave myself for failing.  I decided I was going to live each day one day at a time.  I was going to adopt the attitude my mother had…if not today, maybe tomorrow I can.  



      Life became funny.  I began to laugh more.  I got a little more silly instead of broomstick up my a$$ serious, and you know what?  Life got a whole lot easier to endure.  At times, life is downright enjoyable.  I learned to quit worrying about what I didn’t have and began celebrating what I do.  Every week I amuse the hell out of the cashiers at my local grocery store.  Me, the person who grew up practically allergic to math, can be seen working through the store subtracting each item’s price from how much money I have until I have absolutely everything I need plus a bit more.  When I approach the check out, I watch patiently as each item is ringed up.  When the total is announced I actually celebrate the fact when I have money left to my name even if it is only a dollar.  Some folks would moan about the fact that they only had a couple dollars left to their name.  Not me, I giggle and celebrate!  YAY!  I have a whole dollar left!!!


        I have changed with age.  Where I used to worry myself sick all the time about things which were out of my control, now I let it go and let G0d worry about it.  I choose to enjoy life.  I choose to live my life with my cup overflowing or half full.   It is your choice how your life is going to go.  Why not enjoy it and let go of things you can’t do anything about?  If you are doing your best that is all you can do.  If you are doing that, you are a success.  You are a survivor, and in the grand scheme of things life is what you make it.   I choose to be optimistic and count my blessings.  I choose to have my cup overflowing or at the least half full until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.
 

  

Saturday, November 17, 2012

Wrong Number- BFF 244




      When I was a kid it was tradition for my family to wake up at 5:00 am Christmas morning to see what Santa had brought.  My sister and I were so filled with excitement for the surprises of Christmas morning that we couldn’t wait to get the party started.  My Dad insisted that no one would have Christmas before 5:00 am.  That was law, as written in stone as any rule could ever be.  My sister and I would set our alarm clocks and as soon as that first blast from the clock roused us from sleep, we raced out to the living room to see if Santa had in fact come.  The bulging stockings would seem to magically sparkle. Once Santa’s arrival had been confirmed, we raced to my parent’s room to wake them.




      It used to drive us crazy how my dad in particular took his sweet a$$ time getting out of bed and ready for opening presents Christmas morning.  He knew how excited we were.  He would stumble into the bathroom and stay in there so long you would swear he had fallen in.  How can a person honestly sit on the toilet and meditate while taking a $hit on Christmas morning knowing your kids were biting at the bit to get to those presents?  I mean, drop your load, wipe, and hurry the hell up!!  Santa had been there for crying out loud!  He always took his time.  The door would open with a blast of foul smelling air that he had tried to camouflage with Old Spice as he sauntered out to the kitchen right past the presents like he didn’t have a care in the world.  Once there he would start the coffee maker and we would have to wait until he had his first cup of coffee.  In the time it took him to move his bowels and fill up with his morning dose of caffeine my mother had managed to dress and join us in our impatient vigil staring at the bounty that awaited us to open.




       My sister and I always phoned my Grandma first thing in the morning to wish her a Merry Christmas and in turn tell her what we had gotten for Christmas.  Even 
though we always celebrated Christmas with her a few hours later with breakfast and more gifts, it was tradition to make the call.  We would tear through our Christmas stockings and gifts, and then rush out to the hall phone to make our annual call.  My sister being the oldest dialed the number and then held out the receiver.  It rang once, twice, three times, and then after the fourth ring Grandma picked up.  Before she could even say hello, we screamed “Merry Christmas Grandma!!!” at the top of our lungs.  The only problem was it wasn’t Grandma.  A very annoyed male voice demanded “Who the hell is this?”  Oh my G0d!! It wasn’t Grandma!  With eyes the size of saucers my sister hung up the phone.  Several seconds passed in silence as we stared at each other with our jaws dropped and our hands up on our mouths in dismay.  We both screamed and ran into the living room laughing hysterically.  After that, my sister was afraid to dial the phone again and insisted my mom call Grandma.  The second phone call was met with a quieter Merry Christmas from the both of us and a full retelling of what we had done peppered with giggles.



          It could have only been a little after 6 in the morning when we roused that random guy out of his snug bed to scream in his ear that Christmas.  I bet he was wondering why.  In retrospect, while he couldn’t have appreciated our holiday cheer and exuberance at the butt crack of dawn at least we didn’t wake him out of a deep sleep blasting profanity in his ear.  That would have been unforgivable until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.

Friday, November 16, 2012

I’m A Gummy Bear!!

      Yeah, I’m a gummy bear!!  Ok, I know. You are probably wondering why but that is the kind of couple days I have had.  I simply had to share.  Most people would think that there is something really mentally wrong with me to think a gummy bear gyrating and shaking it’s a$$ is hilarious.  This is just the cherry on top of the last couple days.  I must share because it is perfect for a Friday night and not that far off from “I’m Sexy and I Know It” which I think is just as hilarious.




       Yesterday I had the rare pleasure of being called in to work at my son’s school.  I am a cafeteria sub which means that when I am needed they call me in.  Yesterday was special because the kids and staff were being treated to a special Thanksgiving feast and it was all hands on deck!  I was immediately put to work placing mouth watering pumpkin rolls onto huge trays.  When the kids filed through I was the pumpkin roll girl.  They had their choice…plain sugar cookie or luscious pumpkin cake rolled up and held together with thick and creamy cream cheese frosting!  Can you tell I love cream cheese frosting?  Rest assured I was good.  I abstained from sucking the leftover frosting off my plastic gloves.  


       Once the kids were served it was off to the dish room to help the lady washing dishes a gazillion lunch trays.  She hosed them down and sent them through the handy dandy automatic dishwasher and I grabbed them out of the receiving end and put them away.  The best part of the whole thing is that I got not one, not two, but three big bear hugs from my son before he ate lunch, during lunch, and to say goodbye as he raced off to recess.  I was pumped with adrenalin and had a blast.  It is down right sinful to enjoy a job so much.  It is my favorite of all the schools I have worked at so far.  Bonus, they sent me home with leftovers!!  


        Once I got home I realized I was exhausted.  There is no rest for the wicked so when the kids got home we marched off to the mall for our 1 mile trek around its halls.  The mall staff was busy getting ready for the arrival of Santa Claus.  Christmas trees were everywhere glistening with twinkle lights.  When we got home I busted open the aluminum pans holding the leftovers and somehow managed to slice my finger.  Blood spewed everywhere.  After that, my finger was entirely too sore to type.  I was too pooped to pop.  



        Morning dawned and it was the usual Friday madness.  Up at the butt crack of dawn to pack lunches and get the kids on the bus and then the sickening job of figuring out just which lucky bill collectors would be blessed with a payment.  Even then I wasn’t in the mood to write.  I tried, I did.  


      I was determined to participate in Larissa’s linky party at “Papa is a Preacher”.  Sorry to all that I am a day late!!  I had such good intentions of being on time.  Next week, Thanksgiving or not, I am so there!!!!  Since the linky hasn’t closed yet…I am fashionably late but hopefully still in time for the last hurrah!  It is Friday night and the kids are dancing to “I’m a gummy bear” after stuffing themselves with cheese pizza and orange pop.  To be a kid again!! 




      I was good and ate exactly what was prescribed on my diet sheet: lots of veggies, fruit, and a turkey burger in the perfect size portion.  Am I good or what?  Not quite to the point of singing “I’m sexy and I know it” but I’m working on it until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.