I hope your thanksgiving and all of your shopping went well. Twas Black Friday… Twas Thanksgiving night and all through the house, Crumbs were disappearing, it must be a mouse. My kids stuff was flung around with no care For … Continue reading
A few of you were wondering about my favorite ice-cream. I wrote this quite a while ago, but my feelings haven’t changed much regarding this.
As a connoisseur of all things sweet, it is a rare occasion when food crosses my palate and is met by an uncontrollable audible moan of rapture. My friends refer to this as a “FO” which, of course, is short for “food orgasm”. The world seems to stop as my taste buds demand the attention of my entire body and mind. At this point, I will apologize for the graphic nature of this post, I just know of no other way to describe the sensation.
Blue Bunny has many wonderful ice-cream flavors and more frozen yogurt flavors than its competitors (which my husband appreciates), but I have never experienced the reaction that its birthday party ice-cream brought out in me. If you have never tried this ice-cream, it is like having a birthday party in your mouth. Blue Bunny Birthday Party Ice-cream – around $4.00. FO from eating it – priceless.
Pain is my passionate lover tonight, and it laughs at my Medication suitors, who try to lure me away with their promises of comfort and rest. I am captivated by Pain’s domineering presence yet I struggle against its powerful control.
Somehow, I manage to tear myself away from its tethers, to find some solace on the page. To Words I come, bruised and broken. Desperate for distraction. Anxiously awaiting the temporary freedom that comes with being swept away by their magic.
Of course, medical marijuana would be a lot easier, but it’s not legal here yet, and this blog is all about word play, so here I am.
Who’s up for a bedtime story?
Once upon a time there was a mirror. This glass was far from clear.
Children had placed, and replaced stickers on it so much that some of the stickers were no longer recognizable as anything other than dirty adhesive.
There was a lingering smudge from the time the woman drew a heart with “I love you” for her husband after that steamy shower, and where he had quickly replied “more”.
There were even smudges from the dogs nose when he discovered and introduced himself to his reflection.
Of course, the typical toothpaste splatters, occasional hair, and everyday dust and dirt marred its surface as well.
This is not part of the story, but I’m seriously thinking about ditching this and getting some ice-cream. Ice-cream and another pain pill…
What? You think I should finish my story? It’s a story about a mirror. i could spend some time thinking, writing, “reflecting” on the many insights to be discovered, but don’t you think we all spend enough time in mirrors? Get some windex, wipe it down and live your life.
Now, back to that ice-cream…
This post was written in response to: Calling All Writers
She’s so lucky. Look at how everyone notices her. I don’t care what people say, they are definitely nicer to some people than they are to others. Appearance really does matter.
Funny thing is, she probably doesn’t even appreciate it. Some people are meant to be special, and it really sucks when the wrong person gets the perfect life.
I thought this doctor would be the one. I am so sick of them telling me to be thankful for what I have, and referring me to psychiatrists. I know what I am supposed to be, and if they aren’t willing to help me, I’ll take care of it on my own.
No one should have to spend their lives wishing they were something they aren’t. I’m done pretending.
She used her hands to help unfold her leg from underneath her. The numbness went away after a few minutes and she walked over to the bathtub where her instruments of freedom awaited her.
She slathered the lidocaine about mid-thigh and prepped the gauze and blade.
Phone handy? Check.
It took 8 minutes to get to the hospital from her apartment. She would make sure re-attachment would be impossible by mutilating the lower leg, but she’d have to be careful not to lose too much blood while the ambulance was on its way.
Who’s special now…
Ok, so a while ago I challenged myself to write 1000 words every day. I didn’t do it. I’m a rebel like that.
Challenges suck sometimes. What I did do is write about 730 words in one of my hypothetical books last night. I figure that is pretty close to 1000 words, and I just wrote until a good stopping point. It’s better that way.
I must admit that Stephen King said I should write 1000 words every day. Well, he didn’t specifically say that to me, but he wrote it in the book he wrote about writing. He would have hated that last sentence. Anyway, I’m rambling. Maybe so I can tell myself I spent time writing. Maybe because I don’t want to switch the laundry. Maybe because I want to.
Alright, fine I’ll get the stupid laundry out. Sigh…