A Stranger in a Strange Land

I was an alien in a foreign place. Stranded.  Alone. My own world had forgotten me. This place was oddly familiar yet distantly so. The language seemed to be close to my own native tongue so I attempted to engage one of the locals, to figure out where I was and how to get home. Surprisingly, I understood her directions, or so I thought.

 I ended up lost in the woods. Surely, this must be where they send sacrificial offerings to their undoubtedly terrifying god-deities. Or maybe they eat my kind and I was sent to the slaughtering fields for harvesting and such. I eventually found my out, only to be standing in the EXACT SAME SPOT I had started in. Oh heavens.

Flummoxed and seeking accurate directions home, I decided to dash into what resembled a general store. The cashier-type-entity accepted the currency of my world, no questions asked. A refreshing swig of carbonated beverage (you know what they say: don’t drink the water!)  helped me to contemplate my current predicament with clearer senses. I couldn’t understand it. I wasn’t that far away from home. In fact, the twinkling lights of my world’s cityscape were sparkling and dancing in the distance, calling to me like a beacon. My body felt the siren call of home. Every fiber of my being wanted to be there.

 I tossed my beverage into a waste receptacle and plopped back into my small, sleek silver transporation device. There had to be a way back home. Well, that is, another way, as the portal by which I had originally travelled was no longer an option. So I summoned an Elder who was familiar with this land, one who wouldn’t scold me too much for being so far off mission. My dear friend chuckled at me and gave me the accurate directions I so desperately needed. As it turned out there was a very simple trick to getting myself back to where I came from, one that I had known all along but had forgotten in my panic.

As I headed down the pathway to my homeland, I glanced up at the portal from where I emerged into this land shook my head at the sign that posted at its now-defunct entrance,

“PROCTORVILLE BRIDGE CLOSED.”

 I snaked and swooped and looped my way along the alternate route I had been given and once I found my way back into this Town of Hunting I breathed a sigh of relief and comfort. And prolly more than a lil coal dust.

Ahhhhh, home sweet home!

Just askin'...

Have you ever been so crazy frustrated busy that you don't even have a chance to take a shower? Even though you really need one? You are so insanely over scheduled that you can't even take the time for a quick "sink bath,"? And the only option is to just change your undies and hope for the best? And then all day long you try not to do too much so as not to work up a ...lather?
No?
That's never happened to you?
Oh.
 Yeah, no, me neither. I was just asking. Ya know, for a ...friend.
Yep.

By Gillian

Y'all think I'm good, get a load of these tales penned by my 8 year old daughter Gillian Rose!
Lego Harry Potter: Snape's Revenge

Chapter 1: The Big Lab

"Watch TV Time!" said Snape. They all watched A Bug's Life. "Flik, after much deliveration-- Whoa!" said Princess Atta. All of the students laughed and laughed. Even the teachers! "And by that, Hermione," said Harry. "I mean 'LOL'." "But wait," said Ron. "Snape, we're suposed to watch TV AFTER School." "I don't care!" said Snape. "I do what ever I want today, Weasley." "Whell!" said Hermione. Then Snape chose the other outtakes. "Eh--" said Dot. "What's my line again?" Everyone laughed harder and harder. More harder then "Lol". But usally, EVERYONE came. Even Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, and Voldemort. After school, Snape was going to a secret lare. Harry, Ron and Hermione followed him.Snape laughed evily.Harry, Hermione and Ron followed him. Snape saw them. He ran faster and faster. So did the gang! They found Snape's lab. "Whoa, this place is huge!" said Hermione."You're tellin' me." said Ron. Suddenley, Snape saw them. They fought for about two hours. Harry was tired. "I'm thursty," said Harry. "Snape, do you have any water?" "Yes. Here you go, Mr. Potter." said Snape.



And Another by Gillian:

Dear Lightning, Hope, & Fang
My name is Jillian. I start with a G. My new dad, Brian Rublee has your game! He says you're stuck in Ill'C. I've sent SO many letters to Vanille, but in pencil. I just WISH I  could be with you guys. I'll soon get an electric sword. It's a sword where the pointy edge is off, and it zaps electric zaps and kills SO many bad things and animals. When you, and Vanille see how brave I am, you would soon be happy, Lightning. In pencil I used to write sloppy and not beutiful. But NOW it's SO pretty. But when you guys are UNstuck, you could come to my house!


       Love,
      Gillian
  



P.S. My address is: Huntington, West Virginia, (street address deleted by Summer) and my planet is Earth.

Batter Splatter

“And the next time you leave me with no gas and no money when I have to drive for miles on end hurtling thru the night, blindly, BARELY on a wing and a prayer, with only corn fields and river banks on either side, both of which could easily harbor murderers, rapists and other various escaped convicts along with boogeyman, scary monsters and probe-loving aliens, who could rape and pillage me to death when I run outta gas on this desolate road, I will DEFINITELY haunt you!”
After receiving THAT text from me Brian apologized for not putting gas in the car and I grudgingly accepted. I did not, however, forgive him and I went to sleep angry. I usually do in cases like this. What’s the point? Brian won’t argue with me. Needless to say, my dreams were vivid, active and scary (except for the brief one where I received a grin and a wink along with a piping hot, comforting Caramel Macchiato from a Starbucks Barista who was a dead ringer for Nathan Fillion -that was a good one!) and I woke up untested, weary and tense.

All day long I was frazzled and stressed. I KNEW I had to make cupcakes for work and for an order. Once home and I began assembling my ingredients, I realized that I had NO powdered sugar for the frosting. I steadied myself, taking a DEEEP breath. Then I poured some wine into a Mason jar and after a few long, throat-and-esophagus-burning glugs I felt a bit better.

I returned to my mixing bowl, deciding to focus just on the batter for now. To my horror, the bowl began floating. Off the counter, straight up in the air it went just before taking a terrifying tip and then it fell smack on the floor. I swear that is how it happened. It could just be a coping mechanism, my imagining things in order to assign blame elsewhere, deflecting it from myself. Could also be the ½ glass of Mason jar wine I swigged? Who knows? The thick cherry flavored cake batter splattered everything on its slo-mo downward arc. The counter, the dishwasher, the fridge, cabinets and me.

Right then Brian came home. What a sight he beheld. In the middle of the kitchen, Brian faced a wild-eyed maniac with shiny red goo glopping and streaking her hair, face, clothes and hands. It was a very “Law and Order” opening scene kinda gruesome-looking moment. “I have no powdered sugar.” was the odd phrase I decided to greet him with. He oh so grudgingly agreed to make a Kroger run for me.

At the door, Brian turned to me and said, “You’re minus one Slurpee now.” (I’ll explain that another day.)

“Oh no! NO SIR! I am minus NOTHING!! This is a gimme!”

“What?! Why is it ‘a gimme?”

“Because I am still pissed at you for last night! No GAS in the car?! REMEMMMMBER?! ” To which Brian responded that he was pissed at me and then I told him that was reaaal mature, “You can’t be mad at me just because I am mad at you!” I squalled.

“Who doesn’t check the gas gage?!”

“WHA!? It wouldn’t have mattered if I had checked the friggin GAS GAGE! I!! HAVE!! NO!! MONNNEEEYYYY!! How was I supposed to get gas?! WITH MY MAGICAL POWERS?!? JUST go and get my *bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep” POWDERED SUGAR, you*bleep*hole!!”

He SLAMMED the door and was off.

I cleaned up my mess then started the cherry cakes allll over again. To my dismay, the second batch of cupcakes did not turn out either. I was beginning to think my cakes were cursed. By 1am I was pulling out the THRID and mildly successful (they baked up weird but they BAKED UP so …yay.) and final batch. Whipping up the frosting was uneventful thank goodness. After a shower, I crawled into bed not at all sleepy OR relaxed. Brian noted that I was sighing a lot (I do that when I’m stressed, angry or nervous) and asked if I was still tense. Well, I was also still upset with him for being all argumentative when I sooo did not need home to be so I just bit my tongue and nodded. I was resigned to the fact that I would be going to bed angry again.

Suddenly, the lights snapped off. “Hey! What are you“my book was pulled gently from y hands and I was being guided into a sitting position. I huffed and heaved a GIANT sigh. Did the guy have a death wish? CLEAAARRLY I was NOT. IN. THE. MOTHER. FUDGING. MOOOOD-uh!! To my surprise and to Brian’s credit, I was getting a back, shoulder and neck rub! YAY! And he wanted, or asked for anyway, NOTHING in return.

So off to a happily sleep I drifted, dreaming only of meadows and, ok more Nathan Fillion.

After only 3.5 hours of sleep, I am loop, silly and gigglier than EVER today and I am warning everyone who eats the cupcakes that I hauled into the office this a.m. that they were NOT made with love and care. Oh no. These cakes are full of hatred, spite and cuss words.

I only hope they don’t taste bitter.

YOU SHALL NOT PASS!!!

Brian and I went on an adventure of epic proportions this morning. If we had only known what the day would bring, we certainly would have been more prepared. As with any run-of-the-mill grand adventure (confession: we ran lotsa errands in a short time span and had fun together all morning!),  the ultimate goal was to return home, safe and sound. Well! Imagine OUR surprise when we tried to pull onto our street and Gandelf the Neon Yellow was standing at our intersection.  Department Of Highways-issued vest billowing in the breeze, Staff of Stop/Slow in hand, waving us away.  Silently informing us that, indeed,  we could " not pass.'"

"But we LIVE there!" we protested.

Gandelf shrugged and waved us on by. The gruff old fellow then gazed off into the sky, a distant and sad look on his weathered  face. I'm guessing he was contemplating how to defeat the Orcs in the upcoming apocalyptic battle. That, or he was really hungry and daydreaming about his lunch.

Luckily,  there is another way onto our street, so we made the harrowing loop thru a neighborhood of tightly knit houses and giant SUVs, Middle Appalachia's version of The Misty Mountains.  Suddenly, a man appeared. A short, round man with a beard and flattened nose. OH MY LORD OF THE RINGS, IT WAS REDNECK GIMLI!! He was, of course wearing camo and instead of a battle axe, he was wielding a...chicken wing?!

"Hey" said Gimli, like he and Brian and I hang out every day.

"Hey." I said from the passenger seat of our car."Uh, yeah. we need to get to our house. Up there."

"Where is it?" Gimli asked, gnawing on that chicken wing like it was lembas bread.

"Uhhhh on ROSALIND?" Brian was a little taken aback, I believe. Poor thing. City Boy is still  kinda new to the ways of  Middle Appalachia.  When we're hungry, we eat.  Job duties or customer service be damned. Kinda like Hobbits!

Smacking his bulbous lips and lickin off some undoubtedly yummy chicken fat with a giant, floppy tongue, Gimli said, "Kay." The Dwarves of Middle Appalachia are a simple people. Not much for words and fancy talkin. He turned his back to us for a second or two and spoke into a walkie-talkie completely ensconced in duct tape. Then, tossing the cleanly picked chicken wing over his shoulder and into the roadside brushn the aimiable Dwarf granted us access to the previously forbidden destination of home. "Y'all g'won 'N" Redneck Gimli said in the native tongue of his region. Translation: either, "You all go on in."  or, alternatively, "You all go on then." Either is acceptable.

Cautiously, Brian and I found our way home, fighting off bits of foul-smelling hot tar, lava and dangerously sharp rocks and steep drop offs, not unlike Frodo and Sam's quest to return The Ring to Mordor.

I was able to make it back OUT to the office party but upon coming back Rosalind was COMPLETELY blocked by heaving giant beasts spewing bile and noxious gasses. Once again, Gandelf the Neon Yellow waved his Staff of Stop/Slow and  entrance  was denied.

I made the treacherous path thru the Misty Mountains all alone and, to my relief, Redneck Gimli was no where to be seen on the other side. Ignoring the ominous Road Closed signed I clawed and scraped and forged my way thru until I was back on Rosalind Road.

There was no magical ring for me to return. Not in this journey. Oh no,  I had something much, much more important and coveted in my hands.
I had The King's lunch of Thanksgiving Leftovers to deliver. :)

Random Thoughts, Exboyfriend Edition

Is that him? No way, it CAN't be. I thought he was........

Yep. It's him alright.  And my kid's going over there to talk to his kid. EEEEEEEK!

Be cool. Walk, don't run. Things... are not...pretty when I run. Or, attempt to run I should say.

Tilt head only slightly coyly and TRY to listen to him.

Can he HEAR that?! My heart is beating so fast and hard! I'll bet he can SEE it thumping thru my shirt! It's becasue I sorta ran-walked chasing after Gilly. Yep, that's it...

Oh yuck! This SHIRT!!! A ratty WORk tee?!! AND MOM KHAKIS?! Am I SERIOUSLY WEARING MOM KHAKIS?!?!? Why couldn't I at least be wearing something that shows SOME amount of decolletage?! Anything to prove I "still got it."

Wait, do I  "still got it?"

I knew I should have freshened  my make-up before leaving the house. I'm not even wearing chapstick.

Crap. I'm not even wearing chapstick. My teeth are gonna get all oddly dry because I am smiling so much. Then when I go to speak up my gummy lips are gonna get stuck to my dry teeth and he's gonna think I'm snarling at him. SSSwwweeet.

Hey, stop SMILING so much!! He's gonna think you're flirting. Which you TOTALLY ARE NOT. You have a lovely boyfriend-husband-type person with whom you are madly in love and vice versa. Ohhh, try to work that into the conversation. That's good stuff right there!

DAANNNG ITTT!!! I had hot dogs for dinner. He hugs me for the first time in over a freakin DECADE  and I smell like hot dogs. Awesome.

Oh PLEASE don't let me have hot dog buns jammed in my teeth! GROSS!!!!

And do NOT yell out "I HAD HOT DOGS FOR DINNER, DONT WORRY. ITS NOT B.O.!" Because that will not make this exchange any less awkward.

Wow. He SOUNDS exaaaaaactly the same. Weird. Ew, do I sound the same as I did back then? I had hoped my voicebox would mellow a little by now. Is my voice all high and tinny and stupid-sounding like it was then?  Ok I'll consciously lower my voice a bit.  I'm sure that will sound COMPLETELy natural and not at all creepy or disturbing.

Nope. That was creepy and disturbing. At best. Clear throat and speak normally next time. If this noise I call a voice can be classified as  "normal"

I sooooo should have stuck to that hardcore diet/work out regime I started (two years ago).

Uncross those arms. Don't wanna appear defensive. But what to do with them now? No! Stop it!Am I REALLY twirling my hair?! I'm 35! Not 16!! Wait, I think I'm still only 34...wait, HOW old is Holly now???....

Don't look at him toooo terribly long. BUT! Dont avoid his gaze, either. That will seem shifty and suspicious. Of what, I don't know....

His eyelashes are still soooo amazing. Why do boys always get those heartbreakingly long, curly  lashes?

Did he get taller?! Have I shrunk?! Nah. I used to wear heels all the time. Ugh. When did I get so OLD?! When did my ankles get so weak? Prolly when I got so fat. And old. So old.  And  fat. So  fat...

And lastly, DO NOT under ANY circumstances say to this beautiful man, this man who has somehow become somewhat iconic to the 20something silly girl you once were (and  who you sometimes feel like you still  are)  do NOT say to him "Hey, prison was good for you! You look amazing!"

Because if you do sputter something so senseless and horrific like that at him, and he comes back with the sweetest, shy chuckle and a humble "Thanks, I'm doing better," it just wont seem fair. Not fair at all.

But it will be disarming. And it will seem like old times. Only different old times than the last time you spoke. Instead of "what classes are you taking?' or "where are you living now?" It'll be filling each other in on the happenings of  parents, spouses, kids and old neighborhood friends.

Then it'll be time to go and this oh so long moment will have only actually lasted a precious, fleeting nano-second.

And that's okay too. Say goodbye and don't look back.  There was enough of that back then. Times have changed. I have changed, he has changed.  And change can be good. So very , very good. So off I skipped (and by skipped I mean WALKED, slowly and deliberately so as to avoid any extra jiggling or face-planting) , holding my big baby girl's hand, happliy humming a song.

Oh shoot, was I just humming OUR song? That cheesy  one from the 90's? Did he HEAR that....?

I'm a Good Daughter

Many of you know that my strong, beautiful and proud mother has been afflicted with severe Rheumatoid Arthritis for many years now. Well, just about a year and a half ago, she broke her leg and the healing process has been grueling and slow. But still, Drema is a fighter and she continues to work, play and boss everyone around as usual.

And if you know our family at all you know that even through tears, pain, sickness, frustration and anger we can laugh, tease and cuss each other out like it's nobody's business. So when Mom told me that she had been taken off of the RA meds because of the damage it may be starting to do to her internal organs and her vision, I suggested she drop her docs here in town and go to Cleveland clinic or Mayo clinic or SOMETHIng. When she refused I gave her what for.
"So you are just gonna sit here and WAIT for these people to figure out what is wrong with you? By the time they know how to fix you, you will be dead and then I'm REALLY gonna be pissed at you! Or worse, Oh my GOD Drema, if you go blind, so help me I will LEAVE YOU! I will move far, far away bc I can BARELY take care of you NOW! You are MEAN ENOUGH because you can't move! Can you IMAGINE what a TYRANT you will be if you can't SEE??! "
Mom cackled through the phone. "I guess I am pretty mean, huh? But ya'all do whatever I say so its not THAT bad!"
"Oh YES! Yes it IS, that bad Drema! You think I LIKE shoving you around in that wheel chair?! You think I WANT to haul your broken ass up and down, in and out of the car? No. No I do not. I want to WALK beside you and go shopping and have FUN, dammit I MISS my MOMMY!! But I WILL NOT be here if you go blind because you waited for some incompetent doctors to fix you! And HOLY CRAP! If HOLLY GOES BLIND TOO, THAT IS IT! I WILL STRAIGHT UP DISOWN ALLLL OF YOU AND MOVE TO CALIFORNIA! OR CANADA! At least healthcare is FREE up there and Gillian wont be stuck taking care of me when I am old and stubborn and crazy like you!" I bellowed,  all the while laughing, into the phone. Drema was laughing so hard at me, she could barely breathe. She knows I ain't goin' anywhere.
It was then I realized that all the noise outside my office had quieted. I slowwwwlllyyyy peeked around the door and saw that Jennifer and Karrah, my Lincoln County Coworkers were wide-eyed and still, having heard everything I had just screecehd at my mother. The LOOK on their faces was priceless, as they were COMPELTELY unaware that was absolutely teasing Drema. Of coure I want her to take care of herself and I want her to get better but she is a big girl and can and will make her own desicions. Plus, that rotten ol broad is suuuper stubborn and the more you yell at her the deeper she digs into the ground. She is very much like a mule that way. And she knows it. Addressing Jennifer and Karrah I squeaked out a meek "I'm a good daughter?" to which my Mother Dearest said "Yes, you are baby. I love you. I will see you later." With that,  she bossed me around, gave me her grocery list and we hung up.

But seriously you guys. If that lady goes blind, *shudder* I can't even, won't even finish that statement.

Then again, if she can't SEE what we are doingggg... how will she know if we have done it 'right' or at all? We can jsut say "yep, sure did. It looks jjjuuuussttt like you wanted it" I mean, how on earth would she knowwwww....?  Hmmm.......