Future Visions

She saw the future in her dreams. When she was six she dreamed of her high school graduation. When she was nine she dreamed of her college days and what she would study. When she was twelve she dreamed of her future career. When she was sixteen she dreamed of her wedding day and saw the man she would marry. Her dreams continued to show the future, so she made no plans and let her dreams carry her along. She graduated from High School just like her dream. She went to college and when she graduated she got the job she had dreamed of. All her dreams had come true so far and so she waited for the rest, and as she waited she failed to take notice that her life was passing her by, so when she woke upon the morning of the day she dreamed her wedding would be and had no groom to marry her dreams crumbled. As she sat on her bed and cried she slowly realized that dreams could not compare with life and she had let hers go by without taking part. So she got herself up off her bed and made the decisions to no longer rely on her dreams to build her life. Now she would make the decisions. And as the rest of her life unfolded she no longer was just along for the ride but was the driving force and that made all the difference.

The Evil Eye

She had worn the necklace for as long as she could remember. She could still remember the day her grandmother had given it to her. It had been her sixth birthday and her grandmother, who had been living with them for three years by then, had pulled her into her room. She sat her on the bed and gave her the gold chain with the beautiful blue crystal pendant. When she looked at the pendant she would swear to this day that the eye winked at her. Her Grandmother stressed that she must wear the pendant always. That it would protect her from anyone who was trying to do her bad. So she had. Not because she believed but because she had loved her grandmother. A woman from another land and another time, who did not fit in to the American culture, who kept her old superstitions. The girl had never been to her mother's homeland, a place her Grandmother described with such love and hate at the same time. A country left to die under a communist regime for 39 years. A place where to this day folk myths, legends and superstitions still existed. So she wore the necklace for 30 years now, never giving it a second thought until someone asked about it and then she would tell them the story of her grandmother and how she made her swear never to take it off. It was a good story, people enjoyed it. So the day that it happened she did not even realize that without her grandmother she would not have lived. He was walking toward her on the sidewalk and at first she did not notice him, but as he got closer she felt the change in the air and shivered. She did not look at his face as he approached a warning remembered from her Grandmother. As he passed by she could feel the heat of the pendant and at that moment she understood that there was evil in her modern world and that she must listen to those old superstitions and protect herself.

Trapped and Puzzeled

She awoke with no knowledge of where she was. She blinked her eyes rapidly hoping that would help. But it did not. She tried to sit up but realized almost immediately that she could not. Her arms were chained to the bed on which she was laying. What the heck was happing? The last thing she remembered was the sound of her students leaving the classroom at the end of the day. She had gone to the window to look out on the playground and there was a loud banging sound then nothing. Everything after that was dark. What had happened and who would do this to her. Over the next few years she tried to figure out how she had come to be trapped in this dark place chained to a bed. She heard voices outside her cell often but when she screamed for help none ever came. It was a puzzle she feared she would never solve and slowly she came to accept her imprisonment.


The Nurse was checking her vitals when her mother walked into the room. “How is she doing today?” her mother asked. “She is the same, Mrs. Thompson. No change, she is still in a coma.” the Nurse replied.

Karl Marx and the Rolex

So I was in a meeting at which a gentleman wearing a Rolex (a real one) was speaking about things that purely fit into the category Capitalism with a big old C. And as I was occasionally weaving back and forth between what he was saying and my own random thoughts I almost missed when he quoted Karl Marx. I kid you not a man wearing a Rolex talking about Capitalism, specifically World Points earned on certain credit cards quoted from Karl Marx. The direct quote was “World Points are the opium of the masses.” I almost busted out laughing, I quickly surveyed the room and either they were not paying attention or had better poker faces then because no one else seemed to notice. I have a couple questions still bouncing around in my head now. Did he realize that was Marx? If he did was he being ironic? Will I ever have an answer to these questions, I doubt it, but at least a have had this surreal experience. Gotta love this Country.

Movie Star Crush

She was not the type of girl boys had crushes on. She had her share of crushes growing up but she never knew of a single boy or girl for that matter who had a crush on her. And when she was young it hurt but as she grew older it did not bother her as much. But she did dream of what it would be like if some one did have a crush on her, would it make her feel powerful, would she finally feel pretty? She knew in her heart that these were ridiculous things to dream about but there you have it the mind does not always agree with the heart. So she was utterly unprepared for when it happened. She did not even realize it was a crush at first. At the age of thirty –five she never expected to be the object of anyone’s crush let alone a famous movie star. It happened quite by accident, she was crossing one of the many bridges that span the Chicago River when her heel got stuck in a crack between the planks. He was approaching from the other side, she had heard he had a Condo in this part of town but she never expected to see him. But there he was helping her pull her shoe out of the crack, making her laugh and asking her to lunch. She declined of course. It would be ridiculous to think he was interested, but then the calls and flowers started. She finally agreed to meet him for lunch at some upscale restaurant she had never dreamed of going to. It was nice, but the food was better then the conversation and she realized that his personality that blared so loudly on screen was an act. He was an actor after all. She thanked him for lunch and planned to never see him again, but he had other plans. She refused his dinner invitations; she threw the flowers in the garbage. This was getting ridiculous and she had no experience with these kinds of crushes. How was she going to get him to stop? When he invited her to the Oscars she finally told him NO for good. She went to an Oscar party at her friends that year. She had told no one of his crush, because who would believe her anyway. They watched the arrival of the Stars, oohing and ahhing over everyone’s dresses and the handsome men, Then there he was on the TV, alone and looking forlorn, when E Entertainment Television asked him why he was alone he blurted out the whole story, he was in love with a girl in Chicago who had turned him down. After that night everything in her world went topsy turvy. The Press would not stop calling. She had to change her phone number 20 times. She could not leave her apartment without being followed. When she had dreamed of someone having a crush on her this is not what she had expected. She wanted her life back. So late one evening when the reporters were drinking coffee at the corner Starbucks she snuck out of her apartment with a small bag and disappeared into the night. After a month of no reappearance the press and her crush moved on to the next big thing, while she silently slipped back into her life.

Red Velvet Cupcakes with Pink Icing

I think I had the best valentines day that I have ever had since i was a little kid. do you remember how great valentines was as a kid? You got a little folded card from everyone in your class and there was a party with cupcakes and candy and everyone was wearing red and pink and you had also gotten a box of chocolates from your parents as well. There was no pressure just fun. That is what valentines should be like. But as I walked by the florist yesterday as everyone was rushing in to get flowers, it just did not seem that fun. We humans put to much pressure on ourselves to have this fantastical romantic day that no one can ever really do. So I have for many years boycotted the day. I do not wear red , I do not buy cards , I do not send flowers. And this year was no different. But this year my friends D and S and I decided to have dinner at my house and watch Lost, which we occasionally do on Wed, anyway. So I made Lasagna and Red Velvet Cupcakes with Pink Icing and D brought cocktails and we sat and ate and talked and then watched Lost and it was so nice. I think that when people first started celebrating Valentines day this is what they meant, have a good time, enjoy your friends and loved ones. Do not expect presents because you will be disappointed.

If only everything could be this Yummy

She lost her virginity in the cornfield behind her house the summer after her senior year and it was yummy. She had dreaded the experience because she had heard the stories of pain and unpleasteness that the first time would likely be, but with him it was different. With him everything was yummy. She was in love for the first time and he was everything she had ever dreamed of. He was funny and smart and so handsome it almost made her weep. With his intense blue eyes and serious talk of world politics she had fallen hard and the fact that he loved her still amazed her even to this day 20 years later, to think that the beautiful young man with such a charisma could love her, the bookish chubby weird girl. She had spent most of High School dreading the mornings when she had to leave, she planned her escape down to the last detail and then he had entered her life and she gave him everything she had been saving of herself. They spent hours driving around in his car talking and laughing and loving. And in the field the week before she left for College she gave him her virginity and it was perfect so perfect that at that moment she knew nothing would ever be as good as that. She left for college while he stayed home and worked on his father’s farm and slowly this beautiful thing they had slowly started to disintegrate and in the end she was left with a sweet yummy memory that still twenty years later could bring a smile to her face. There were many more boys after him even one she married, but none of them could ever dislodge that blue-eyed boy from her heart and when she heard of his death a little piece of her disappeared through the whole in heart that he had left.

It Started With a Scab

She picked at the scab on her knee. It felt good and when the scab slowly peeled away leaving a shiny bloody spot it felt even better. That was how it started, the cutting. As a remembrance of that day she first picked at a scab as a small girl. Now she cut all the time and each time she did it felt better then it had the last time. She hid the cuts behind long sleeves and no one had guessed yet and that also made her feel good, knowing that it was her secret.

Good-Bye Cruel World

He stood to the side of the road with his thumb lifted waiting for someone to show some mercy and stop and offer him a ride. He had been waiting for days although to him it had seemed like months. This place, this world was so sad and he could not bear it any longer, so he had packed a bag and was heading home. He was hopeless and this was the only answer he had found. It was drastic he knew but he wanted it worse then he had ever wanted anything, even worse then he had wanted world domination and the end of the human race. He wanted all of his circuits removed and he wanted to be melted down, robot suicide they called it.


On a Side note I will have a story up on Tuesday on a site called Six Sentences, check it out.

The Chronicle

It sat on the top of a huge pile of garbage in a dump that was soon to be turned back into green space. The images inside showed smiling faces, laughing babies and holidays filled with love and joy. One image was quite remarkable. It was an image of a young woman sitting on a park bench surrounded by small children. Every face looked serious and their clothes attested to the fact it was some time in the early 1920’s. Images like this exist in many places that is not what made it remarkable. On the back of the picture hidden from view were the names of those who had posed for the picture, one being the owner of the photo and the book that contained it, and if you knew history and understood what had happened in Russia during the Revolution you would have known why another name, the name Anastasia Romanov was remarkable. But it sat there on that heap of trash forgotten by those who had loved the one who had cherished it. She had died years ago and as it passed from generation to generation it become nothing more then one more book to be stored. And finally when it passed to the great granddaughter and she got married and started her own family it was abandoned, this chronicle of one woman’s life was thrown on a trash heap and would soon disappear for good. And once more a history would be lost forever.

I like Robots

I like Robots that is why I like fantasy. The kinds of Robots I like do not exist in reality. They have laser beam eyes that can blow up whole cities. They have computer brains that allow them to feel anger and hate. They want to destroy the human race purely for the reason that they are more intelligent then humans. I like evil computers as well. Ones like HAL and the computer from War Games. Give me a good story about evil robots and super computers and I am hooked. Robots Rock!

In the blink of an Eye

In the blink of an eye the idea was there, as if it had always existed and just needed to be noticed. She gathered up her things and threw them into a backpack. She left through her bedroom window hoping against hope that her parents did not hear her as she shimmed down the trellis by her window. She made not a sound and the house remained dark and quite and like that she was gone. When her parents woke the next morning they would think she was sleeping in. It was Saturday morning and teen-agers liked to do that they would think, each privately wishing she would get up so they would not have to talk to each other. They had loved once but that love had died with Greg there first child. They knew and Susan knew it, but no one said anything and they all went on living their lives together in that house but being utterly and completely alone. That was why Susan knew the idea was sound and why she had left. Her parents finally decide that 2pm was a long enough sleep in and went upstairs to rouse their daughter that fateful Saturday morning. When they realized she was gone they became frantic, calling the police and everyone they knew. But they slowly came to realize that she was gone and no amount of searching, pleading on television news programs, posting signs or milk cartons was going to bring her back. For years they continued the charade pretending to be the concerned loving parents of the missing girl. Until one day they both knew it was over, and it seemed as if at one exact moment they both had the same idea at the same time. They both packed a bag and the Mother left through the front door while the Father slipped out the back. When it became evident that they were gone the bank foreclosed on the house and it was sold to a lovely young couple with two young children, one a boy and one a girl.

Too much kissing

All the kissing was too much for her. Every where she went in the small village people would stop to greet her and kiss her on each cheek. It was what they did. After only a week in the village she had stopped leaving her apartment. She did not want to risk bumping into someone on the street who would greet her with kisses. Her family had never been really demonstratively affectionate. She knew they loved her and she did not need them to touch her to prove it. She had told her friends her loathing of being touched and they knew not to touch her, but here where she barley spoke the language and did not want to offend the culture she had said nothing and had to endure the numerous kisses. Her first two months there she barley went out. She avoided places where she knew people gathered. She cringed when she saw people she knew. But slowly ever so slowly things began to change, she began to change. It happened quite by accident about 8 months after she had first arrived. Someone who understood English over heard a conversation she had with a visitor about her dislike of being touched. Word spread around the village. Out of respect for their beloved American they stopped touching her. They no longer kissed her cheeks or looped their arms through hers. She did not notice at first, but as the days and weeks passed she felt as if something was missing and she slowly started to crave a kiss on the cheek. One night she had a vivid dream about a village where no one touched or kissed. When she awoke in the morning she realized that she lived in that village, but it was only her they did not touch or kiss. She worried she had done something to offend them. She spent the next few days deep in depression. The villagers noticed, they became concerned, what should they do. One brave soul decided to take action. He approached the American and touched her arm, forgetting the villagers pact, she burst out crying. The villagers poured from their houses, what was wrong they asked. She burst out with her fears and how sad she was they no longer kissed her cheeks. They responded with their fear that they had been kissing her too much and knew she had not liked being touched. Then they all hugged and proceeded to kiss each other on the cheeks, this took several minutes while everyone laughed and hugged and kissed. When she returned to America a year later she was a changed person, she greeted everyone she meet with a kiss to each cheek.

The Common Cold and the Koran

The past week has been filled with a stuffed nose and four boxes of Kleenex. With all of the technological advances we have made in the past 100 years and all the new medicines you would think that we could eradicate the common cold, but no we all continue to suffer through bouts with this miserable little virus. I hate having a cold, hate it hate hate it. I am not a good sick person. I hate laying about not being able to breath and trying to think of something else when all I can think of is that I can not breath. You would think that those doctors who have perfected the perfect breast implants would have used their talents for something more worthwhile, like finding a cure for the common cold, but alas there is no money in that.

obviously I am in a grouchy mood because of said cold but this has not diminished my loathing of a certain congressman from Virginia and the thousands of journalist and others who were first shocked then offended by the new Congressman from Minnesota who being a Muslim will of course be using the Koran for his swearing in. This is of course completely sensible to me, of course a person who is being sworn in to an office that has a swearing in would use the religious text of their choice(or maybe a copy of Kurt Vonneguts, "slaughter House 5" if they have no religion). But apparently the congressman from VA and many people have not read the constitution, particularly the first 10 amendments because they were under some sort of illusion that this country has a specific religion. Because it does NOT! And the argument that it says "IN GOD WE TRUST" on our money does not wash. That was added in 1954 the same year that "Under God" was added to the Pledge. We can choose any religion we want or no religion at all. This is the USA for #%$%^& sake. Of course a Muslim being sworn into office would use the Koran. Stupid Dumb Americans, get off your asses and read something. No wonder the world hates us when we make it so easy for them.

My Mom Cooks Like it is still the 70's

I can hardly contain myself. The last few days have been torture. And I foresee the next two days being just as bad. I leave for home Friday morning. Home is Avon Indiana(not actually the town I grew up in but very close and I will drive through my small town with its single four way stop.) My parents have a condo in Avon and my sister and her family and my brother and his will all be there and we will pretty much gorge ourselves on food. My mom is a great cook and we always have the same things at Christmas, Turkey on Christmas eve and Ham on Christmas day. Intermixed with all of that are the snacks. Cheeseballs, cookies, Chex Mix(homemade of course) and more specifically, a dried beef horseradish creamcheese roll up thing that is so good I crave it. It is one of what I call the 70's hors'douvres. The other is a dip made with creamcheese, garlic and chili sauce. My Mom got these recipe's in the 1970's and they are so delicious they just may be the best thing ever to come from the 70's.

Only two more days!!!!!!!!

I am one of those people

I never thought I would be one of those people, but I am. My last two posts have had pictures of my dog Chavdar, dressed for the holidays. In today's picture he is an elf. He is so darn adorable. I swear that I do not usually dress him up in costumes, but at Halloween and Christmas I can not help myself. My favorite part I admit is the fact that he looks so angry when in costume. He hates it and you can tell in the pictures. That is what makes so adorable. I promise this will be the last picture of Chavdar(for at least a couple of weeks)

Merry Christmas

I love Christmas. Despite my lingering doubts about the existence of a God let alone a Christian god I still love Christmas. I love that despite the sometimes bitter cold evenings, that the twinkling Christmas lights on the houses in my neighborhood make the walk from the train so much better. I love the constant strains of Christmas music pouring from cars, headphones and stores. I love my Christmas tree, I turn it on first thing in the morning and it is the last thing off at night. I love that my friends Gwyn and Peter are having a holiday cocktail party where Peter and I will play Christmas carols, he on the piano and me on the violin. I love that I will see my entire family for four days and that we will bake cookies, eat lots of chex mix, play board games and video games, watch "National Lampoons Christmas Vacation" and my Dad will laugh so hard he will cause himself to cough because of his asthma, and we will laugh and have fun and open Christmas gifts. Christmas is Wonderful.

The Reward

She received a reward every time she behaved. A cookie here a piece of pie there and sometimes a pair of diamond earrings or plasma screen TV for her room and once a pony. She learned to always behave. At her father's company Christmas Party she was on her best behavior everyone commented on how cute she was and what a good girl. But underneath all of the good behavior lurked a soul that wanted to yell and kick and scream at the top of her lungs. She kept her dark feelings all bottled up and slowly the rage built and built and as the years passed the rewards stopped. She no longer received a cookie here a pair of diamond earrings there. She dyed her hair purple then blue then green. Every part of her body that could be pierced was and she was on her ninth tattoo. Her parents told her every day how disappointed they were in her and she was not invited to her father's company Christmas party. So that night she sat on the balcony of her room that over looked the garden below where people from her father's company mingled. They laughed and drank and made small talk. She heard her father's voice before she saw him, " Lillian, oh yes it has been hard since she stopped behaving. We are not sure where we went wrong, but tomorrow we are having her sent to that school where Thomas sent his daughter. Yes, that's the one, when his daughter came back she was perfect never caused a problem, we hope we will have the same kind of success with Lillian. Yes, yes, their methods are violent but we think this is the only way...." She did not want to hear the rest. She had suspected they were planning something and now she had her answers. She would not let them do this, she had seen that girl when she had returned and she saw that her eyes were dead. She would not let that happen to herself. She went to her closet and started throwing things into her backpack. She lifted the edge of her mattress and removed the stack of cash she had secreted away for just such a time. She crept downstairs and out the front door. She looked back over her shoulder at the house glistening with Christmas lights, she could faintly her music and people laughing as she walked toward the street. One day she knew that her parents would get the punishment they deserved.

Basketball

I grew up in Indiana and went to Indiana University. Both of which when told to most people help explain my interest in basketball and enjoyment in watching a game live. I am not in general the kind of person who gets into sports, but having been around basketball fever all of my life and seeing some really amazing players and games I do love a good live game. Basketball is fast paced and there is always action on the court. So with that said you can understand why I so enjoyed going to a Bulls game last night with 3 friends. We had such a fun time. Professional sports games are like going to a carnival. There is always something happening and there are cheerleaders and really tall men and mascots who dance funny dances. Above is a free picture you can get taken and go online and get. You can see how much fun we were having.

Also note the new glasses and still long hair.

In the last hour.......

of the last day of the last year of the 21st century a girl child sat on the edge of the wall overlooking the forsaken land. She tried to picture in her mind what it must have looked like a hundred years before when people roamed the cities on foot, in cars and trains and buses. She imagined that it had been beautiful, but now all that was left was a wasteland of tumbling broken steel, glass and concrete. She knew that soon there would be nothing left, not even the ruins. Plans were underway to finally clean up the forsaken land. She watched as the men dressed in bio-hazard suits set the charges that would implode the ruins and obliterate the past. They had chosen to forget the past. What was done was done they all said. But secretly she kept a hidden journal full of clippings and photographs and stories about what the world had been like before the "Change". If they knew she had these things they would put her away like they had the historians and scholars. So she kept it all hidden where no one would ever look. She jumped as the first explosion went off. Then as if it were a fireworks display they all went off in succession. And then it was done and the past was gone. Along the wall where a platform had been set up for the dignitaries a loud cheer went up. Tonight there would be many parties of celebration, ringing in the New Year.