Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Vincent VulgarVlad's musings

This is a snippet of something I'm planning on working more with. It's really a spin-off of sorts of a story I almost finished some years back. After going over my old writings, I realized it had too many errors to simply be edited, so I threw the idea in the trash. I recently thought it might be a better idea to just redo the whole thing, as I believe much of the original had great potential. It just didn't seem fair to throw away so much creativity, so here's just a small taste I whipped up in like an hour and a half.

I often find myself alone, lost in a deep thought. It’s the only way to achieve the closest thing to peace. But when I say closest, I don’t mean close at all. Which is more peaceful? Living among those who find immense pleasure in bloodshed as well as their own hatred, or resorting to isolation in an attempt to muse upon that which I could never fully understand? I’d rather endure the latter. At least it does not talk back. But then again, would I rather listen to Jagger’s rugged voice preach slime coated demands of how I should act, or lose myself in my own dangerous mind, where my unnerving curiosity threatens to drag me down deeper into those before unvisited spaces of my mind with each burning question, hoping to find answers somewhere unknown? Neither one is peaceful, so I continue on, my curse of thoughtfulness never promising me any quiet moments. This is why I’d rather be alone to let my mind overcome me. It’s not like I have a choice. Eventually I must give in, so at least this way my thoughts won’t mix with the voices of others around me. I can focus on them alone. And so it begins.

Hanging low against one of the tall castle walls, there is a wide mirror, located along the hall beside Jagger’s room. I have a habit of stopping for a moment while passing by to glance at myself. What I behold, I cannot describe in words aloud because I myself do not know what I see in my own reflection. This realization strikes more fear into my cold heart than my nature should allow. I begin to dwell on the subject of vampire reproduction and how I, along with others of my race came to exist within this world.

Through child birth the body is produced, though lifeless and dead. The baby’s appearance is that of something inhuman still. Its skin paler than the full moon, with gruesome fangs and features as sharp as a blade. Only through a mother’s bite is life given to these soulless creatures. The body requires poison to awaken that which the power of some God given source of life cannot. And while I speak of this Heavenly being so many of Melinda’s kind deem their maker, what then gives my kind the power to resurrect those born dead? It is Melinda who rules this realm with her magic spells bestowed unto her by something even more unfathomable. And is it not this mysterious God who gave Melinda her life? If so, is it then acceptable for her to turn away from that God and in essence, become one herself? If not, then am I to blame for my unlawful existence despite my desire to remain innocent, simply because I am from that which rebelled against God? Then why do I even believe I receive a chance at judgment? If I am not one of His creations, why should I? But, surely since the existence of my race spawned from the imagination of man, I too am linked to this God I know so little about.

These thoughts are what trouble me, but not solely. As I gaze into the mirror at my ghastly reflection, I am forever haunted by what I see. There are no puncture marks on my neck. Every vampire has a mark on their neck, as proof of that first bite of life given to them by their mother. It is what awakens us from the dead and keeps our shriveled hearts beating. But can I truly be called a vampire if I do not have this mark? If I never received such a bite, how then am I living? Does this mean that the same God who gave Melinda life gave also me a soul? If this then be at all possible, then how? Why me?

Thursday, May 26, 2011

Squirrelasaur Apocalypse (Sam's theory)

I decided to take a little break from my Prince Charming is a Liar story to share something I hope you will find pretty funny...only a little break! Teeny tiny! Promise I'm working on chapter 3! Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my - oh, you get it! Anyway, I was at the park with a close friend of mine and my little sister, when suddenly I noticed there were squirrels everywhere...then somehow I started to think about all these failed 'end of the world' predictions and...well, this big 'ol crazy idea just came to me. Read on, my loves!


The Squirrelasaur Apocalypse, also known as Sam's Theory, all started when Samantha Smith, the founder of this controversial idea, claimed to have received a sort of revelation from a mysterious rock she believes traveled many miles from a far-away galaxy only to warn her of the true cause of the end of the world, giving her the exact date it will occur, October 17th, 2028. It was revealed to Samantha that squirrels will eventually become so reliant on humans as their main provider of food that eventually violent outbreaks on humans will result among these animals. Further, the squirrels will eventually become uncontrollably aggressive, rabid, and blood thirsty that overtime evolution will kick in and the squirrels will become much larger, more dominant of a threat to the human race. Towards the end of the world, about a year before its impending doom, humans will already be hiding away in shelters, giving up all of their food supplies to the squirrelasaurs, driving them to resort to cannibalism.

Many people speculate that this revelation, due to the fact Smith believes it came through superior alien beings, in fact has nothing to do with squirrels or evolution, but that the aliens, through the rock, were warning all humans to prepare themselves for an extraterrestrial invasion. However, Smith has many times spoke out, claiming that squirrels will in fact play a huge role in the end of the world and that this was something greatly stressed when the alien stone spoke to her.

Sera Makin, close friend of Samantha and fellow follower, has stated that there was no doubt in her mind Sam's theory was anything but truth. Makin has played a huge roll in spreading this idea, believing she is doing the world a favor by, "sharing with them this most precious chance to stand up against these animals before it becomes too late." Smith and Makin are both strongly against feeding or becoming friendly with squirrels. They regularly set up strikes at local parks, posting signs and warning civilians of the consequences of spoiling these animals.


So there you have it! The truth - finally it is revealed! I am now going to gorge myself with chili dogs, so tootles! <3

Monday, May 9, 2011

Prince Charming is a Liar - Love Triangle

Dayna was parked outside the school, waiting for Clarissa to burst out of those front doors any second. She yawned briefly, having just woken up from a much needed nap. Finally, she could see Clarissa running towards the car with an ecstatic grin plastered on her face, dodging kids left and right. It was an amazing sight. Once those doors flung open, it was like a flood of children pouring out over the sidewalk. Clarissa managed to reach Dayna's car without being trampled. Once the duo arrived at the ice cream parlor, Clarissa viciously gorged down her hot fudge sundae with no pause to breathe in between bites.

"Slow down there, girly! What's your rush?"

"I just wanna go home and read over my lines. If I do really, really good, I'll get more parts and before you know it, you'll be checkin' me out on the big screen!"

Clarissa had received the good news earlier that day that she would be playing the lead role of Cinderella in the school's upcoming production of 'Prince Charming', an original little musical the kids put together about Prince Charming's conflicting love life. Clarissa had been talking about it ever since she got in the car and Dayna could already tell she wouldn't be done ranting on and on about it for a long while. She didn't mind, though. She loved kids and she sort of saw Clarissa as her own to share with Jasmine. She could be nothing but proud of her niece. After all, it is her job as the aunt to encourage nothing but the fun things in life. Fun and safe, of course. So she would make sure that Clarissa stayed on that high for as long as she could keep her there, full of confidence and drive.

"Ugh, the only downside to this whole thing is that Penny is playing Snow White. The script isn't finished, so no one knows who Prince Charming will end up with."

"Love triangle, huh?"

"Yeah...do you think I'll do good, Aunt Dayna?"

"Do I think? You could totally stink and it would all seem good to me. You can do no wrong, kid."

"Sheesh, can't I ever just get a straight answer from you?"

Dayna's eyes shot open and her jaw dropped slightly in mocking offense.

"Yes, I personally feel you will make a fabulous Cinderella."

The two shared many laughs, talked about nothing but the upcoming school play, and finally left the parlor with sticky fingers and full tummies. The rest of the day was spent mostly at home and when Jasmine came home from work, all three of them went out to Clarissa's favorite restaurant, The Pretty Pirate, for dinner. Dayna, not being a huge fan of sea food, saw it as bit of a sacrifice, but those are the things you do for family. Overall, they managed to make a Monday feel more like a Friday.


"Order's up, Dayna!" Ronnie, the cashier at the diner called out. Since it was another day off and she couldn't think of anything else to do with her morning, Dayna decided to stick around a little longer than usual and eat a nice plate full of bacon, sausage, eggs, and biscuits along with her usual coffee.

"How's life treatin' ya, sweetie?" Ronnie had been on vacation with his wife for 3 weeks, sort of like a second honeymoon to congratulate his son graduating high school and moving out to go to college, so it was time he catch up on the happenings of the regulars.

"Oh, you know...same old, same old. Clarissa's going to play one of the lead roles in her school's musical."

"Really? That kid's on her way to being the next big thing, I tell ya."

"No argument there."

Dayna sat at a table by the window while Ronnie went back to work. She noticed the same man sitting on the bench reading his morning paper like he does every morning. Or at least every morning she stops by. Liza had said that he only reads his paper in that spot on the days she comes, but Dayna found that unlikely. Chances are, Liza is just over reacting or making radical assumptions, which would be quite true to her fiery personality. She quickly turned away and continued chewing on her bacon. She found herself strangely day dreaming about the possibility of a secret admirer and for a moment, convinced herself that Liza was right and that he had been building up the nerve to stand up, walk across the street, and talk to her for some time. She quickly swallowed that idea along with a fork full of scrambled eggs. Though she told herself to stop, curiosity got the best of her yet again and she glanced back at the man and just then, he threw down the paper from his face and stood up from his bench. She snapped her head back in the opposite direction. Much to her surprise, he was walking up to the diner. Not that that was anything odd, because he has every right to come in and buy himself breakfast. No, nothing strange about that. However, what came next was almost unbelievable.

"Hello." Dayna Slowly raised her head to see the man standing right over her.


"I don't mean to bother you, but I've seen you here before. You usually don't stay around long, though. So, I thought I'd take advantage of that."

"Oh, you're no bother! Really! My name's Dayna." She held out her hand for him to shake.

"Dayna, my name is Lucas." He shook her hand firmly and boldly kissed it, making her blush. Though she tried her best to conceal it, she couldn't hide the big, cheesy grin that accompanied it.

"I want to ask if you'd like to get coffee with me sometime, but I feel like that would be a bit dumb, considering that's what you're doing right now. So, how about dinner?"

Dayna was stunned at the sudden interest Lucas was showing in her. Liza was right, apparently. He had been watching her for a while.

"S-sure! Sounds great!"

"okay, meet me here tonight at 7?"

"Oh, well I was thinking more like exchanging phone numbers and planning a date, but that works too, I guess."

"Well I've sort of been waiting a while to catch you when you weren't busy, so waiting any longer just seems nonsensical to me. What do you say? Are you free tonight?"

"Yes, yes I am."

"Great. I'll see you tonight, Dayna."

And just like that, he was out the door. She didn't move for a while, she was completely speechless about everything that had just occurred. She had never seen a more straight forward approach from a man in her life, and she liked it. Finally, she smiled brightly, brushed her straight, dark hair behind her ears and finished up her last piece of bacon. It was going to be a good day, she would make certain of it.


Author's notes:

Alright, it's starting to come together! You can probably already sense the subtle fairytale elements in there. That will continue throughout the story and eventually play an important part in tying in the moral at the end. It will be fabulous!

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Prince Charming is a Liar - Heroes and Villains

Everyone has a story to tell. Every step you take is a sentence, every moment a paragraph, and every day a new chapter. Some stories last longer than others, but the ending is always unique. The best stories are the ones that keep you guessing - a twist ending that no one ever sees coming. Yes, everybody has one.

"Dayna! Dayna, you left your purse!" There came running Liza, the waitress from the diner she had just finished her early morning coffee at.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm so scatter brained, not a great way to start the day, right?" She laughed half heartedly at her mistake and took the purse from out of Liza's hands.

"Sure you weren't just distracted, honey?" The middle aged waitress gestured in the direction of a man sitting on a bench across from the diner who was pretending to read the morning newspaper.

"That man's been watching you, Dayna. You can act like you haven't noticed, but I know you've been checking him out yourself."

"Come on, he is not watching me. Look, he's just reading the paper and minding his own business."

"I see things you don't, sweetie. Every time you look away, he's peeking up at you. It ain't just a coincidence that you only find him sitting on that bench reading his morning paper on the days you come around for a cup of coffee. You should go say something to him, girl!"

"Not happening...at least not today. I gotta run my niece to school, but maybe I'll have the guts Thursday morning after you come by the salon and let me get my hands on that hair of yours!"

"We'll see who cracks first!"

Dayna's painted red lips formed a wide grin as she hopped into her car and headed off to meet her niece. She lived only about seven blocks away from her sister's place and drove her niece, Clarissa, to school every Monday morning. She was half way up the stairs of the apartment complex when Jasmine and Clarissa came rushing down to meet her half way.

"Ima be late!" Jasmine spouted out dramatically as she pushed her daughter forward, gripping the girl's arms tightly so she wouldn't trip over her own feet.

"Well good morning to you too, Jazzy!"

"Thank the ever lovin' heavens you're here. I gotta stop by the store and buy mascara. I forgot I was all out." Jasmine bent down and gave her daughter a kiss on both cheeks, exaggerating the loud smacking sound on each one.

"I love you, baby, have a good day at school."

Dayna rolled her eyes playfully.

"You know, you don't need mascara."

Jasmine leaned in closer to her sister as if she didn't want Clarissa to hear what she was about to say.

"I do if I want to catch myself a man. God knows I could use someone around here to help me out with Crissy, since her real dad wasn't up for the job. She's going to be a teenager soon. If you remember the amount of stress I put mom through when I was that age, you should understand why I'm so desperate at this point."

"Hey, you know I'm always here."

Jasmine tilted her head slightly, her face formed into a mocking pout.

"Aww, so sweet. But you know what I mean.."

"I know, I know. I just think you're super beautiful with or without mascara."

Jasmine just shook her head, flashing a bright, genuine smile.

"I really gotta go. Love you."

She stood up to give her sister a thankful hug before waddling off to her car in a pair of red, 4 inch heels.

"Alright, you ready for school?"

"As ready as I'll ever be..."

The two headed back towards Dayna's car parked across the street.

"Mondays used to be my least favorite day when I was your age, so how about we get some ice cream when I pick you up later? You know, give us both something to look forward to."

"Hell yes!"

"Whoa, check you out using big girl words!"

The two shared a laugh together as the car slowly edged through traffic. Clarissa was quite a sharp 12-year-old with a gift for comedy. She always brought a smile to Dayna's face when her day was otherwise lacking anything to be happy about. After about 15 minutes, they reached their destination. As Dayna pulled up to the school, Clarissa sighed heavily.

"Come on, it's not that bad."

"It is when you have to deal with a dumb blonde named Penny who thinks she's some kind of goddess all pretty in pink every single day."

"Ah, I get it. Ya know, now is probably the time where I should give you some big lecture about being kind to everybody and turning the other cheek..."

Clarissa started to slam her head against the back of the car seat repeatedly, bored of hearing that same old spiel.

"she's just soooo annoying!"

"Hey, calm down. I was going to tell you that your grandmother used to tell your mom and I that life was like a great big story. She said every person in our lives was a character that played an important part."

"Yeah, well she'd be the villain."

"Yeah, for now. Trust me, you'll have plenty more and much worse villains introduced in your story, but you know what the rule always is with the bad guys?"

The middle schooler thought on the question for a moment before answering.

"They never win..?"


Clarissa smiled wide and reached over to give her aunt a loving hug before hopping out of the car.

"Love you, girly. I'll see you after school!"

"Love you, too, aunt D.! Don't forget the ice cream!" The girl waved as she walked up the steps to the school, a large green backpack weighing her down. She was a bit small for her age, but then again, kids these days seem to come in all sorts of different shapes and sizes. Dayna paused for a moment, contemplating what she would do with the rest of her morning. She didn't have to be at the salon until Wednesday and she couldn't think of any other responsibilities she had for another 6 hours or so. It was such a beautiful, sunny Monday morning. The birds were chirping, the sound of echoing car horns were floating through the air as impatient business men and women forced their way through traffic. Yes, she decided to go home and do what she always does on her days off of all priorities...



Author's note:

This is just the first chapter to what was originally meant to be a single short story. However, upon plotting the entire story out in my head, I realized that it needed to be lengthened a bit in order to really work as an interesting tale. All that you have just read above probably seems very ordinary and quite possibly on the verge of boring. I'm warning you, it will seem that way for a while. BUT if things go as planned and the story flows the way I imagine it all unfolding in my brain, you'll want to keep on trudging through the chapters. If the opposite occurs, well, I've already put this out there, so there's no turning back now.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

'Make It Snappy' update!

The other night I was searching my room for an appropriate outfit to wear for the next morning, preferably one that when I have to perform a tragic fall in front of an audience of youngsters for a game of charades, in order to teach them a lesson on serving others, my skirt won't ride up and the kids won't think I'm trying to get them to guess "full moon." Suddenly, I thought to myself, wouldn't it be cool if there was this little dude inside each of our brains that sang songs relating to events taking place in our lives? Like, say you cheated on a test - this little guy in your brain starts singing a terribly sad, depressing song about the consequences that will most likely follow your terrible decision. Pretty awesome, right? And while you're seeing all this, no one else around you can, so when you start screaming and telling that little dude to shut up and stop singing, everyone looks at you like you've gone totally loopy!

I know, I know...get to the point!

Well, I started to write a little tale about some kid who used to have an imaginary friend, Lorenzo, but his evil imaginary brother, Hernando, came seeking revenge on the boy all because Lorenzo had flushed his deck of cards he used to play old maid with down the toilet when they were younger. Also, Hernando hated Go-fish. However, the whole thing just wasn't coming together...it lacked a spark and was genuinely panning out to be quite a boring, pointless mess. Stuck and unwilling to post the thing, I decided to trash it. It's been sometime since I've sat down and even looked at my blog, but with good reason! I haven't exactly been in tip top shape as of late, though I feel incredible as of now. I have recently overcome some nasty food poisoning and now that my mind is fully functioning once more, I feel inspired to add another short story to my blog. It might take me some time in my thinking chair to conjure up something good enough to share, but I'm working on it! Focus is my biggest struggle. Usually, once I get something really good cookin', I get so excited I pace around the house for a while, which proves to be nothing but a big fat waste of time. So, just thought I'd leave an update for now, in case someone out there is reading this! I have not given up on you or dropped dead somewhere!
But I really must go now and get to sittin' on my thinking chair, so ta ta for now!

-- S.S.

Friday, March 25, 2011

Help me help myself!

Here I am, wide awake at 4AM. I think I have a problem. In fact, I know I have a problem. I used to be able to tame these random outbursts of sudden creative juices, but now - now I can't seem to patch up the leak and keep them from flooding out of control. And this all just has to happen at 4 in the friggin' morning. Stories, ideas, in depth dialogue, playing through my mind as I pace around my room in a contemplative fashion. While the rest of me - mind and body - wants to call it a day and hit the hay, that itty bitty part of me, growing larger and more consuming, feels it's time to come out and play.

...Wow, did I just rhyme? Heh, what can I say? I'm a natural!

Anyway, the problem with all of this (besides the fact that it's 4 in the freakin' morning!) is that I can't seem to focus on one thing - one thought, story, genre, whatever you want to call it. I know I want to write something, do something...I just can't figure out what that something is! I can't decide! I know I have my whole life to share every last one of my wacky musings with the world, but I can't even keep it focused! It's almost like part of my own mind is getting some sick pleasure out of torturing me! It wakes me up with an overwhelming amount of inspiration, then when I finally give in, it suffers from stage fright and suddenly isn't in the mood anymore. Ah, the curse of writer's block! Except, it's not writer's block. The problem isn't that I can't think of any good ideas - I have too many good ideas and that's the problem here! They all individually tend to blur into one big idea that just wouldn't be right all jumbled up into a single story...

hmm...or would they? >;)

I'll get back to you on that...

-- Sammy Wammy

Oh, just for fun, check out Batman's hair envy!

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

The Rainbow Prince is fabulous!

Ah, childhood memories...my best source for inspiration! When I was a wee one, one of the things I enjoyed the most was pretending I was a super powered royal from a far away galaxy. I called myself the Rainbow Princess. I had many different abilities, each relating to the individual colors of the rainbow. Now, this princess was not an only child. Nope, sir, she had a brother! The Rainbow Prince. I don't honestly think much more has to be said for you to understand why I decided to poke harmless fun at this particular figment of my past imagination, so without further introduction, I give you...


July 17th, 2029

Ugh, I hate this day with every fiber of my perfectly stunning being! My loving father seems to think it's that time in my life to take the next step and marry some dumb bimbo. Apparently, he's getting at that age where he could start farting chemical gasses at anytime or whatever. Gross, like I have time to care for another person, I mean really! I can barely keep up with maintaining my own natural flawlessness, let alone take my gaze away from the mirror long enough to pay any sort of attention to some needy tramp before my public begs me to stand in their presence. And then there's sir Oinks-a lot, daddy's favorite go-to, get the job done-doer. He's nothing but a glorified court jester, but he's much too simple to see it - or anything past his massive gut, really.

"we've picked out the most beautiful women from all over space for you to choose from!"

What a fool, I guess he really can't see anything past his jello belly, and before I was simply exaggerating out of sheer annoyance towards the pathetic man. I mean, puh-lease! That one girl's hair...talk about frizz city! And another one, I swear she had more muffin tops than a charity bake sale! Anyone of those attention hungry broads would too easily be out shined by my breathtaking glow and shimmer. And there he goes again, barking like the sad, pathetic sideshow freak he is,

"what about Lady Supernova!? She's the most desired woman in all the galaxies!"

Um, yeah, I got a good look at Lady Super-saver alright, in her thrift store bargain get-up! Now, I don't have a lot of "bros" or whatever those middle class hobos call it - in fact, I don't have a lot of "homies" in general. That's the price I pay for being so royally fabulous. I find my life much easier without them. No distraction or priorities other than what's really important - me. However, if I did hang around a lot of other guys, I'd be surprised if any of them found this piece of trash who mistakenly compares herself to a supernova, as anything but utterly tacky. Father is always breathing down my neck,

"save all the glitz and glam for your sister!"

As if she deserves all the fun and I should do nothing more than sulk in my thrown all day, pouring all of my gold and silver over to my wife who gets to go out and spend it all on making herself up to look even half as tantalizing as I do now. What about me?! Why must I be the one he thinks deserves to suffer a life deprived of pricey fabrics and blinding jewels?!

Ugh, I hate this day!

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Keep it PG, you furry lovin' freaks!

Part 2, fool!

6. (40) List 20 things that annoy you. Pick one and write about it.

1. Soccer moms
2. Drama queens
3. 12 year old boys
4. Disney Channel
5. Furries
6. 13 year old girls
7. The Doodle bops
8. Cool kids
9. Stephanie from Lazy Town
10. Rugrats all grown up
11. The president
12. Did I mention Disney Channel?
13. Bras
14. Hypocrites
15. Narcissistic preps
16. People who think the Social Network is a good movie
17. Fan girls
18. People who crack gay Batman jokes
19. Tramp stamps
20. Most people in general

This list, of course, is in no particular order and is only 20 of hundreds to thousands of things that annoy/piss me off. Let us take a look at number 5, shall we? Furries. Ah, the eternal mystery. What is it that would possess a person to want to strap on a fox tail and walk around like some kind of inter species mutant? If you want to play dress up, but can't use the whole, 'It's Halloween' excuse in July, that's your business, but when you start taking the time to go and do stuff like this...

...it gets to be way too creepy for comfort. Now, consider classic cartoon characters like Goofy or Bugs Bunny - I don't have any issues with them, in fact, I love those guys! I wouldn't ever put them in the 'furry' category, though. No, furries have this whole creep appeal about them that is almost impossible to describe, as you can see from the pictures above. If you can't see it, I'd have to worry or just assume you're a furry yourself. I get the sense that a great majority of people who dig this stuff take it all too seriously and seem to actually be..er..physically attracted to these animal-like hybrids. People never watched shows like the Goof Troop only to drool over the main characters, or at least I didn't. Although, I myself used to have a disturbingly awkward obsession with Dark Wing Duck, (if you want to consider any kind of bird a furry) so who am I to talk? I don't know, maybe I'm just a weirdo myself for thinking about it, but there's something different about these things people call "furries" and it's all a bit high on the freak factor for my taste.

7. ( 129) Write a light-hearted piece on how to get along with an enemy

Well, well, well. This one will probably make me sound like a hypocrite, which, if you recall my list of things that annoy me above, is something that I try to avoid. Well, I try at least. Then I think, what the hey, everyone is a hypocrite, so why should I give a hollering hoot? Besides, I might benefit from following my own advice. Doubt it, but I don't sound very 'light-hearted' right now, so I'm just going to shut right up and move on!

We all have one and some of us might even have several! In the rare case that you don't, well, you've pretty much got it all together and have no reason to read this in the first place! Yes, of course, I'm talking about enemies. Those, uh...special individuals who seem to have been put on this earth to only make our lives a living-

Oops! Getting a bit carried away there, aren't I? Enemies are like...the people we don't see eye-to-eye with, to put it in more civil terms. We are all separate and unique, and therefore, we all have our share of differences. You should always keep in mind that whatever your opinion is about someone, they are most likely thinking the same things about you. Try practicing putting yourself in their shoes! Who knows, maybe they have family troubles, or self esteem issues that cause them to attack you out of jealousy and a need of feeling superior, or - or maybe they're just so sick and twisted that they simply enjoy tormenting you every single day of your life! ....

Wait, that's not right...

Forget that last part! That was just a joke, honest! There's good in everyone and it doesn't make us any better to assume someone is pure evil! It's not like you're not at fault! You know what they say, it takes two to tango! Well, I mean fight, of course. There must be a legitimate reason they feel the need to tear you down, unless there isn't, in which case, you shouldn't feel bad giving them a taste of their own medicine!

No, no, no, I'm sorry! That is terrible advice, never stoop to their level!

Oops! I mean, uh...uh...be nice..?

8. (130) What's the un-funniest joke you've ever heard? Who told you the joke? Write about it.

"Knock, knock!"

"Who's there?"


"Boo who?"

"Aw, don't cry! It's just a joke!"

Yes, I just went there. As much as I hate to admit it, I am the one who told that hokie pokie joke. Boy, do I feel sorry for whoever the poor sap on the other end of that was. They must have felt so embarrassed to even be in my presence. Not my proudest moment, but I was never great at telling jokes, so I don't beat myself up over it. Anyway, I always thought the funniest people don't really try to be funny, but just are. It's a part of someones personality. So, if I ever tell you some lame knock, knock joke, it's probably just because I thought it was kind of clever and not so much that I'm actually trying to be funny.

9. (135) List 50 things you'll never do.

1. Go skinny dipping. No, sir.
2. Go bungee jumping. I have problems controlling my, what I like to call, "death thoughts." I get paranoid very easily. I can't even ride a roller coaster without freaking out over the possibility of my buckle coming undone and me falling to my death the whole time. So, you can imagine the amount of potential deaths by bungee jumping my mind would conjure up. Pretty much anything from a fatal heart attack half way down, to bouncing off the water and slamming hard into the side of a bridge. Splat...
3. Smoke. Yucky!
4. Punch a wall...again (ouch!)
5. Kill Bill
6. Eat a guinea pig. D:
7. Cut off my big toe. Yeeeeah.
8. Bathe in acid. Just not good for the complexion, or so I've heard through the grapevine.
9. Eat a cockroach (EEK!)
10. Ride in the bat mobile :( VROOM, VROOM! EEERK! CRASH! BOOM!
11. Watch Shark boy and Lave girl for the second time. Two words - HOT. MESS.
12. Lick my elbow (no matter how hard I try!)
13. Join the circus. It just isn't an option at this point.
14. Kick a puppy. I may be slightly twisted if you wanna take me that way, but that's just plain evil!
15. Get a tramp stamp. They're just waaaay too sexy for me! LUOTI (Laughing Uncontrollably On The Inside)
16. Eat more than 5 corn dogs in one day. I'm not saying I've ever even eaten 4 in one day, 'cause 2 is usually my limit. I was simply really hungry the day I wrote this, craving a corn dog, and sort of mixed that with the saying, "boy, I could eat a whole cow!"
17. Stop trick-or-treating. NEVER!!!
18. Own a pet rhino. It ain't worth all the upkeep, honestly.
19. Kiss a frog. This princess don't need no prince, honey! *Z-snap*
20. Pick my nose (oops, too late! ;D)
21. Join the dark side (maybe)
22. Take a dive into 3 foot water. Can you say 'FAIL'?
23. Attempt to sing And I'm Telling You I'm Not Going from Dreamgirls. I ain't got those kind of pipes.
24. Sleep in a coffin. I do not wish to be a vampire, nor do I desire to date one.
25. Eat green eggs and ham. See, I thought that would be clever, 'cause my name is Sam. ;) Boy, am I a lameoid or what?! Yes, the name's Sam, but you can all call me Corny...Mrs. Corny. Mrs. Corny Corn - uh - Cornelius Corny. The first, of course.
26. Shave my head...like, we're talkin' bald here!
27. Stick two scoops of ice cream in my pocket. I prefer it in my mouth, thank you.
28. Swim with a shark. It just...doesn't seem like a good idea is all.
29. Cuddle up to a crocodile. No offense, all you crocodiles out there. It's not that I'm not attracted to you, it's just - well, yes, actually, that's pretty much it.
30. Cut off my ear and give it to the love of my life as an early Christmas present.
31. Run all the way to China in my underwear. Sadly, all signs point to, "Are you crazy!? That's impossible!"
32. Eat fried worms. Not even smothered in ranch dressing and those yummy little bacon sprinkle bites.
33. Wear white after labor day...apparently, that's a no, no.
34. Fake a smile when no one's watching. What's the point?! Seriously, I gotta know!
35. Go out and buy cheap lip gloss. Yeeeah, been known to make my lips swell up like a fishy!
36. Jiggle my thighs in public...please, don't ask.
37. Squish a lizard egg :'(
38. Make them good girls go bad...never was a skill of mine :/
39. Turn down chicken wings for dinner! Or lunch...hey, even breakfast if I'm feelin' a little naughty. :P
40. Fall asleep standing up. It's just...illogical!
41. Get tired of laughing at stupid people, which is everyone. HA!
42. Figure out how to not cry a little every time I watch Mufasa's death scene in The Lion King. Seriously, I consider myself an emotional, sympathetic person when it comes to a good, touching sob story, but I rarely actually shed a tear. That doesn't make me cold or heartless, just, er..tough-skinned...on my good days, anyway.
43. Lick a rusty object. Yes, kids, this can kill you.
44. Flaunt my butt crack for the whole world to see. Not a good look, not at all.
45. Ride a magical unicorn all the way to Oz, so I can beg the wizard to grant me ultimate power.
46. Leave the house without deodorant on! Pee-yew!
47. Outweigh an elephant...or at least I sure hope it never gets to that point!
48. Go completely and utterly koo koo for cocoa puffs!
49. Let anybody put a dog collar around my neck and walk me around on a leash! Not happenin', son!
50. And finally, the 50th thing I will never do....*drum roll* Die! Muahahahahah - when is it gonna be time for fourthmeal? Ya know, the meal between dinner and breakfast? I'm gettin' hungry here, brother!

10. (324) Make a list: 7 signs it's time to take a bath.

1. When people start assuming you've just washed your hair, because it's greasier than...something really greasy.

2. Flies start to follow you around on a daily basis.

3. You suddenly appear quite tan, but can't figure out why, because you haven't been getting much sun lately.

4. You start to build an immunity to your own rancidness.

5. Friends stop calling, 'cause they can smell you through the phone.

6. Your boss calls you off work for 2 weeks, giving you time to recover, saying, "You smell of something foul, which is unprofessional and quite frankly, upsetting and altogether life threatening to our customers."

7. When it gets to the point where you do a pit check and lose consciousness from your own poisonous body odor.

Yowza, that's a lot of lists, huh?

Friday, February 18, 2011


I came across this website http://www.creativewritingprompts.com/ and it basically lists over 300 writing prompts that are fun, easy ways to get those creative juices flowing! I thought I'd try some of these out and share them here on my blog. So, I picked out 10 out of the almost 400 listed that perked my interest the most and let my fingers do the talking...

1. (13) Write about a weird day in your workplace.

I was working in box office, or as some call it, the fish bowl, on one ordinary day. The place was well past dead. I think it was either a Tuesday or a Wednesday, so of course business wasn't as good as it normally would be on the weekends. I stood there, leaning against the wall in boredom when finally, a man walks up to my register and for once I was actually more than happy to help him.

"Can I help you?" I had asked the man in a friendly fashion.

He didn't say anything for a while, but simply stared blankly at me. I would have been a bit worried if it wasn't for the always reliable, big ol'glass window separating us from each other. Finally, he spoke up, but instead of requiring tickets to get into his desired show, he asked to fill out an application. I had gone to retrieve one for the man and then instructed him to fill it out before leaving the building. Following another uncomfortably long pause, he held up his cell phone and told me some pointless story about how his phone started ringing and he left the theater, tripping over another person's foot in the process. Seriously, that was the end of the story. What's the problem, right? I told him it was okay if he went back in as long as he put his phone on silent and that he could even change seats in order to avoid potential embarrassment. Again, he stared at me with another blank expression, pausing for nearly a whole minute. Finally, he placed his cell phone through the little opening on my station,where I give customers their tickets and hand them back their credit cards and change. That's when I finally understood. He didn't know how to turn off his own cell phone. So, I was kind enough to do it for him and even showed him how to do so himself before passing it back through the opening.

"you just press down and hold this little red button here until the screen goes black." I had said something along those lines.

Yet again, a whole half a minute of nothing but awkward eye contact. Probably the longest 30 seconds of my life. Then, without so much as a thank you, he was off to enjoy the rest of his movie. Yes, without returning his application. I can only imagine that man in an interview setting.

2. (21) Write a letter to the 10 year old child you had been.

Dear Me,

I can almost clearly remember the days when the only thing I ever really worried about were aliens coming through my window at night and drilling nasty holes up my nose. That's probably the reason even today I tend to smash my face into the pillow before drifting off to sleep. I wish you knew how foolish you really look trying to convince your fellow power kids that your coolness deserves to not only be the rainbow princess, but that at night you can also transform into an evil queen who has fallen in love with the villain, Moonlight. Forget that you're already Janitor Woman, the main female butt kicker of the Clean Team. You always wanted all the fame, you greedy thing, you. I guess I really haven't changed that much, because when a certain childhood friend brings up those memories and tries to claim that he had the powers of lightning, I get so angry that it usually ends up leading to a serious fight. I may have decided to trade up my powers to be the rainbow princess/Moonlight's evil queen, but deep down in my heart, I will always be the one and only lightning kid. Also, a little word of advice...because some of your friends are a bit older, the tender age of 12 1/2 might prove quite difficult for you. Some people might try to change the name of the game to Power Teens and that automatically makes you an unqualified member, but be patient! You'll be old enough very soon and you can always go back to playing Time Bubble in the meantime. And remember, the boys might beat you at jump roping, but you dominate on the pogo stick. One thing you might want to work on is being a little nicer. Just because someone new moved into the nighborhood, doesn't mean you should tell them they're not welcome into your nature club. I don't think that's what mother nature would want, do you? Remember this, though...while I look back and consider a lot of the stuff I did to be silly kid nonsense, I secretly wish the time bubble really did exist, because back then I don't think I ever used the excuse, "I'm bored!" I always found a way to make life fun. Never change that about you, little me!

Big you

P.S. - Stop jumping around on old mattresses! You don't know what people have done on those things.

3. (24) Imagine your life is now a book. In 100 words, write the blurb for it.

Samantha is a strange one. She likes to wear high heels while eating chicken wings, she can perform a spot on impression of an angry black man, and takes pride in the fact that her friends tell her she's the beastliest person they know. No, she's not your typical girl, but she's fine with that. Some people might hate her, but they just don't understand. Or at least that's what she told herself. If you are into high levels of action, humor, wacky charm and just the right amount of heart, look no further than "High Heels and Hot Wings"

4. (43) What does "a string of laughter" make you think of?

Well, I have these shoes - Converse All Stars to be specific - that I absolutely love. I'm a big Batman nut, so they are decorated with a "HAHA" pattern with the Joker on the left, outside of the shoe and Batman on the right, inside of the shoe. Yes, I know...pretty hardcore, bad to the bone right there. What can I say, I'm a high roller. Anyway, it comes with three pairs of shoe laces and my favorite one is green and covered with the same "HAHA" pattern as the shoes themselves. So, that's what "a string of laughter" makes me think of. My favorite pair of shoe laces. :)

5. (65) Write about Valentine's day without mentioning these words: Valentine's, cupid, love, roses, flowers, hearts, February.

You know what day I'm talking about...that holiday that takes place on the 14th day of the second month of the year! A day to reflect and show how much you adore your significant other. Just think about how your life has changed since that fat baby with wings shot you in your butt and you saw that special person for the first time. Or maybe you're single and don't even feel the need to celebrate this usually joyous holiday. Don't ever think that way! This is not just a day to show thanks and appreciation to your wife, husband, girlfriend or boyfriend! No, share all of those warm feelings with everyone around you! Strangers, family members, and even yourself! Stop beating yourself up and wishing you had someone there to hold you and give you a box of candy filled with chocolates! Tell yourself how great you are and go out and buy yourself some chocolate! No one will know the difference, after all. Besides, being single is only a temporary state. There's someone out there for you who will come along and make that muscle in your chest beat a little faster. And if this still doesn't make you feel any better, just be grateful it only lasts 24 hours.

Well, this post is already pretty long, so I'll put together part 2 A.S.A.P.!

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Little miss Lombardi, don't be hatin'!

So, I was thinking about what kind of stuff I would write for my blog, and I just couldn't think of anything. One problem I have is that I over think things a lot of the time. The way my mind works is I can be sitting down and suddenly, I'll get struck with inspiration and all of these stories will play through my head where I can actually imagine all of it happening. Unfortunately, I have a bad habit of pushing it all aside and then I forget to write it down later. Fortunately, they always come back with a vengeance and pull at my brain until I can't think about anything else. This was one of those things. Enjoy. :)

It was a cold, windy night in a cruel, worn out city. Every night was the same. Every single night.

It didn't matter how your day was or who you spent your hours with. You could go to the pet store, buy a new puppy, then marry the love of your life all before the sun went down, and still, the night would feel the same way it always does. Different characters, but the same old setting. The same old feeling of boredom mixed with desperation for something more exciting that always spikes up in your gut at the end of a terrible, terrible day.

That pretty much summed up how she felt walking along the cracked brick alley way.

The same way she feels every night.

Except tonight, she also felt quite hungry. Of course, running away from home the night before and not eating since, tends to do that to a growing teenage girl. She never worried about the ever-rising crime rate, she didn't have to. All the crooks and lunatics seemed to keep their distance. They had to... if they knew what was good for them. Her stomach rumbled and the sound of roaring laughter could be heard just feet away. She looked up and gazed at the sign beside an old, beat up hang out where she worked on the weekends. Lucky Lucy's Lounge is what it read in faded green letters. She sighed heavily, both in relief and regret. This was the place where just about everyone down in the slums went to unwind. killers and average Joe's alike. Today was a Saturday and she was about to start her shift.

"Hey, girl! Where you been?" Called the familiar voice of her boss, Donavon, from behind the counter. He went by Donny, as it was much more his style.

"Hey, Donny. You know, I've been around.."

He simply dropped his gaze and shook his head in annoyance, motioning her to the back of the lounge just beyond the kitchen. She simply followed, knowing there was sure to be a lecture in store. There usually was.

"How's your mother?" He asked cleverly, falling into a chair behind his desk. She remained standing, body half propped against the door.

"She's fine, I guess..." was her only reply, barely loud enough to even be registered, with an uncomfortable lack of eye contact.

"Okay, how 'bout I be more specific? When was the last time you saw your mother?" Now his voice was a bit louder, filled with aggravation.

"Can we not talk about this? Honestly, I'm just over it...I'm going to -"

"You're just over it? Cammi-girl, you can't be wanderin' the streets like some hooker with no where to go! How are ya grades, huh? Do you even go to school, or are ya over that too?"

She didn't respond, but looked down at her feet. While every other employee would get called back to the office when they slacked off or were rude to a customer, the kind of trouble she got into mostly involved personal troubles. Donny was like a father to her. Not too long ago he was kind enough to give her a job as a waitress. Although he normally wouldn't hire anyone under 18 for the job, due to a variety of reasons, including the whole law against minors serving alcohol and inappropriate attention from male guests, he figured she'd be old enough in a year anyway, so it wasn't a big deal. Besides, at Lucky Lucy's, you could get away with breaking a few laws. He was always looking out for her and she got along great with the staff and most of the regulars.

"I tell ya what, you're lucky that father of yours has gotta soft spot for ya. You walk around these parts all alone and pull the kinda bull you've been known to in any other neighborhood, and you'd be bumped off in a heart beat!"

Donny was very blunt, always had something to say. Sometimes she wished he would just shut his big yapper up. Especially with things concerning the 'family' she was so kindly blessed with. She was hungry and really would rather be anywhere at that moment...yes, even table 4 where Johnny A-little-too-friendly always had something to say about the way her uniform draped her body nicely. And sometimes, if she was really lucky, after 4 or 5 drinks he'd even be so bold as to comment on how he'd rather see her in nothing at all. Boy, did that make her feel like a million bucks..

"Givin' Donny the silent treatment, are we? Ah, just go bust some tables...I don't know what I'm gonna do with you, girl. I'll stay here and think over it for a while."

He didn't have to tell her twice. She swallowed the growing ball of mixed emotions that felt like it was lodged in her throat and slapped on a forced smile for the adoring customers.

"Hey, Cam! Table 9 needs some love! Let's move it, baby doll!" The high, booming voice from the kitchen was Paul, one of the cooks. Not particularly interesting, just some middle aged bachelor from Manhattan whose physique would suggest he never eats the food he cooks.

"Comin' at ya, Paulie!" She raced to table 9 only to find one of her more difficult customers tapping his finger impatiently on the table top. As if her life couldn't get more difficult, Mr. Sidney Pistler was always there to remind her that a long walk off a short pier was always an option. Still, she decided to grin and bear it. It was all part of the job and sarcasm aside, she was somewhat thankful for people like Sidney. She had quickly learned to tolerate schmucks like him on a daily basis without making any sort of scene.

"What can I get you, Mr. Pistler?" While most regulars always got the same thing every time they stopped by, this guy liked to switch it up and she learned to never assume she knew what he wanted. He hated that. Almost like he was terrified over the idea of someone getting inside his head. So, he would change his mind every time, hoping no one would catch on. She had heard around that he was easily paranoid, but she had just recently thought that maybe this had something to do with his unpredictable taste buds. Today, however, he seemed different. The man had a nasty habit of raising his voice unnecessarily high and throwing in some borderline obnoxious, passive aggressive jabs from time to time. Not to mention he is always so incredibly nagging. But today, he was quiet. She even noticed that he was trembling a bit. Almost as if he was scared of something, but she dismissed it and assumed he was just having some sort of anxiety attack.

"Something to drink, perhaps..?" Nothing. Not one word. He didn't even seem to acknowledge her presence. There was a lot of commotion going on around her, the place was packed tonight. Maybe he didn't hear her? He wasn't in his 40's anymore, after all. She raised her voice louder.

"Mr. Pistler?!" This time he looked her right in the eyes.

"I-I gotta get outta here..." was his only response as he fiddled with the lock on his suitcase that had been sitting on the floor by his feet. He managed to get the thing open, but he was shaking so much that the leather handle slipped out of his hand and money - lots of it - came pouring out. The expression on his face read panic. Big time.

"Oh, wow..." She wasn't at all surprised. The city was packed full of criminals of every type and this was the place they all came to hide from the law. She bent down to help him as he frantically struggled to push all of the rolls of bills back into the briefcase. She was tempted to sneak some of the money into her apron. Pistler was stingy when it came to tips and she thought she was well deserving of a couple hundreds after the many nights she busted her butt for the ungrateful man. Nonetheless, she held back.

"Th-thank you." Did he just say thank you? Yes, he did! She froze, lower jaw ajar at the man's sudden politeness. Just then, the front door swung open, the windy night sending cool air through the crowded lounge. She whipped her head around to see the silhouette of a tall man standing by the door. There appeared to be two or three other men standing behind him. They were shorter and didn't have the same chilling presence that he gave off. A sharp, gut wrenching feeling seemed to poke at her stomach. Suddenly, the entire place was in dead silence. Even the band stopped in mid tune. Pistler had managed to gather up most of the money, hurriedly shoving the last two rolls into her hands and making a run for the emergency exit.

"Stop that idiot." The man ordered his two henchmen and they nodded before taking off in the same direction. The lounge remained uncomfortably silent and she quickly ducked underneath the table top of table 9, heart beating fast as she peeked around to watch the man stroll over towards his usual table. He was sharply dressed in a pinstriped suit and black fedora. As he sat down, he lit a cigarette in the non-smoking area and from the light of the flame you could see the color of his piercing blue eyes. She swallowed hard in her throat and felt tears build up. Those eyes, she hated those eyes. They looked just like her own and every time someone told her she had beautiful eyes, it secretly made her feel like finding a sharp piece of glass and...no, enough of that.

"Ca-can I get you somethin', m-mister Lombardi?" Candy, one of the waitresses, nervously asked the man as he puffed smoke rings into the air. He then shifted his gaze upwards towards the woman and eyed her up and down.

"Heh, surprise me, babe. And get that old man Vinny out here, will ya? Tell him Adrian Lombardi dropped by to say hello."

She remained stiff underneath the table, hoping he didn't notice her there. She knew he didn't. Most likely he was too busy striking seductive grins at all the waitresses and staring angrily at some unlucky schmo now and then just for kicks. She wanted so badly to walk over to him and do everything in her power to humiliate him. She didn't know how she would, she just thought he deserved it. At the same time, there was something inside holding her back. Like the feeling any other teenage girl would get when she likes some guy and wants to tell him, but is just too shy. The feeling was sort of like that, except for the teenage crush part. He was a con man. The city's most notorious gangster and crime lord. He had a certain charm to him that women couldn't seem to resist. Probably because he tweaked his own personality to appeal to whomever he was in the mood to mess with at the time. She hated him. As a couple waitresses, Tracy and Morgan, sat down and latched on to him by either arm, she darted for the kitchen door, barely making a sound. She bumped into Donny as he was on his way to talk to Mr. Lombardi, nearly knocking the large man over.

"Wow, wow, Cammie! Shouldn't you be out there on the floor, baby girl?"

"You've gotta be kiddin' me, right? I'm not going out there until he's gone!"

"You can't be afraid of him your whole life. I know it's not like you to be a coward, Cammie."

She was silent and tears started to stain her cheeks as Candy flew through the door to deliver Mr. Lombardi his first round of drinks.

"Fine, okay, you stay put" Donny said in a caring tone. "I want to talk to you when I get back."

"Vinny!" Mr. Lombardi exclaimed when the man emerged from the kitchen door.

"Tracy! Morgan! Get the hell outta here and do your job!" Donny, or Vinny shouted at the two adoring dames on either side of the criminal.

"Still got that temper of yours I see, Vinny. It's been a while...months. How's that wife of yours doin', huh? What's her name? Lucy?"

"She's no longer with us, Lombardi. It's been that way since this hell hole opened up. You're not funny."

"ah, a guy can try, can't he? Doesn't sound like you take a whole lotta pride in this place, though." He took a long sip of his drink before continuing.

"So, how you holdin' up without that nifty piano player of yours? I gotta admit, the new one ain't much."

"You don't like him? Not like it was my choice to let the old guy go."

"Hey, he was stickin' his nose in stuff that didn't concern him. Anyone wanna start playin' hero and they gotta deal with the villains."

"He was 19."

"What's that gotta do with me?" He finished off his first round of drinks and snapped his fingers at the nearest waitress.

"Hey, toots! Get daddy some more suds, will ya?!"

"The point I was tryin' to make is that, well, don't you gotta daughter who's about that age?" Lombardi paused in the middle of lighting another cigarette and stared blankly up at him.

"You think I care about age, Vinny? Some lousy brat comes at me with empty threats and I'm supposed to lie down and take it just 'cause he's young enough to date my daughter? What you don't seem to understand is that I demand respect. Ain't nobody ever got anywhere pleasin' anyone but themselves. I ain't lettin' some little punk try and act like his is bigger than mine. I don't care if he's 50 or 15."

"Thanks for clearin' that up." Donny started to walk away as the waitress came back with more alcohol.

"Ya know, Vinny...you used to be a lot more fun to talk to. I feel like we've drifted apart. Something's come between us.."

Donny simply ignored the man's obnoxious remark and walked back into the kitchen.

She was sitting at the edge of the dock behind the lounge. It was still very windy and she had pulled her pony tail holder out of her dark hair. As her tears soaked her long, wispy locks, she thought about her mother. Donny always tries to convince her that her mother is doing her best. While deep down she knew this, she couldn't help but feel a great deal of resentment towards the woman. She didn't understand how anyone could take so much abuse and betrayal from a man and remain compliant. If it was her, she would stand up for herself. She hated her mother so much for that...and she felt guilty for it. She had confronted him once. After finding out where he was hiding, she gave him a piece of her might. He refused to pay child support and her mother wouldn't do anything about it, so she took matters into her own hands.

"Look, Cammie, I loved your mother. I still do. But she made her choice. Back then, I had fallen hard. I swore I would never con another woman in my life, I would never even look at another woman! I was done with the womanizing thing. And boy, I really meant it. If she chose to be with me, join my lifestyle - like the very Bonnie to my Clyde - she'd be the only woman in my life."

"She said you lied to her...she never even knew who you really were."

"Yeah, I'm always the bad guy. I never meant to hurt her. Not EVER. Sure, maybe I didn't tell her the whole truth, I was scared. But we told each other we'd always love the other no matter what. I trusted her, so eventually I did tell her what I really did for a living. And what does she do? She leaves me! You tell me who the liar is now, baby doll!"

"I want the money! You owe us the money!"

"I told you, I ain't got no money!"

"I hate you!"

He had told his guys to escort her out then. He made sure they didn't hurt her and she left with no money, but just more hatred towards him than ever before. She didn't want to be an angry, hateful person. No, she always tried so hard to be happy. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the disturbing thoughts that ran through her head. Sometimes she even almost acted on those thoughts...whether it was by starving herself, banging her head on the wall several times, or just jumping out her bedroom window, the outcome would always be the same and it was something that ran through her head too often for comfort. And it was all because of him. While she would sometimes blame her mother for things out of rage and just needing some way to vent, she knew it was all his fault. She hated him. And it was just then that all those thoughts bubbled up in her brain. She stood up just at the very edge of the dock, gazing down at the dark, cold water below. Tears continued to decorate her face and she was about to do it. She was going to jump. She was going to take one last dive and forget to hold her breath. She wanted out and it became harder to control those urges every day.

"Cameron! Cameron Lombardi, what the hell are you doing?!" Donny's voice made her jump and almost lose her balance. She flailed her arms, trying to remain upright, but fell backwards onto the dock. She gave out a sigh, relieved that she once again didn't follow through. Thank the heavens for her boss.

"Cammie, what's going through your pretty little head, huh?" He helped her up and gave her a sickeningly sweet look of concern.

"I-I don't know..." He for once didn't have anything to say back, but simply pulled her in for a tight hug. She hugged back and cried into his shoulder. The silence was a relaxing change from the noisy, crowded lounge. The wind was still blowing strong and the waves remained calm.

"Ya know, no one ever got anywhere from carrying around so much hate." His words were not judgemental, but caring. "You can't let him control your happiness, Cammie. So you got a lousy father, so what? This is not the end of your life. You're not checkin' out just yet. You've got a lot of love ahead of ya."

"Thank you..."

"Can you do something for your old pal, Donny?" She looked up at him with curiosity.

"Can you go clock out and go home? To your mother, I mean. She loves you and both of you ain't got no one else."

"I got you, right?"

"Yeah, well besides me." She couldn't help but smile beneath her tears.

"She needs you, Cammie. So, are you gonna listen to me or are you gonna make your life harder and hurt her even more?"

He was right. Her mother needed her. She knew the things she said to her mom were not fair. She didn't respect the woman because of the choices she made. But...then again, she was the one about to jump off a dock and leave all her problems behind without even a goodbye. So who was she to judge? Sure, Adrian Lombardi was her father, but her mother was in love with him at one point. She thought of the heart break and how it must have felt when the truth about who he really was came out. From what she was told, her mom was pregnant with her at that time and leaving him really was the best thing to do for the baby. And she figured then that it would probably break her mother's heart even more to see his face again. As she thought about all this, she realized that she never put herself in her mother's shoes. She never thought about how much harder life was on her mom than it was on her. At least she had her mom there who tried to love and take care of her. No one was there for her mom when she had to make the choice to leave her man. Forget that she had no money and no place to stay. She left anyway. And she did it for her. She did it all for her daughter.

"You're the best, Donny."

"Yeah, yeah...I know" he patted her back and pulled her away a little. "Now let's get back inside."

The two walked through the back door and after she had clocked out and was headed for the back door again, Donny stopped her.

"Oh, no! You're going out the front door!"

"No, come on! I'm going home, but you can't make me do this!"

"You gotta face it sometime! You don't even have to say anything."

"Please, I don't even wanna look at his face..."

"What did I tell ya, girl?"

She took a long look at Donny's face and knew he wasn't going to let her get away that easily. She couldn't help but smile, knowing that he was looking out for her.

"Okay, fine."

She took a deep breath and walked through the kitchen, into the noisy lounge. He was sitting there drunk out of his mind with two or three girls sitting around him that probably wandered off the streets. She made her way past table 5, 6, 7, and finally 8 where he was sitting. She only peeked at him through the corner of her eye, managing to keep a smile on her face so that he didn't see how much pain he really had caused her. She didn't think he would notice anyway. But she was wrong. He did notice. He was having a good time laughing, drinking, flirting, smoking...when he saw her come through the kitchen door, his smile fell downwards and suddenly he felt the urge to shove the girls beside him off of the booth. When she finally exited out the front door, he stood up and threw one of his empty glass bottles at the nearest unlucky face. The girls that had been all over him shrieked in fear. His face seemed angry and confused all at once. One of the girls was stupid enough to stand up and try and comfort him, thinking she could make some kind of difference. She started rubing his back and he violently shoved her onto the floor.

"Get off me, tramp!"

Everyone around him froze and tried to pretend they didn't notice. He stomped out of the building fuming, cigarette still in hand.

As she walked down the city's dirty roads back home to her mother, she put her hands in her pockets and felt the two big rolls of money that Mr. Pistler had left behind. She figured Sidney was probably in the bottom of the ocean by now. The feel of the paper brought back another painful memory.

After he had refused to give her the money he owed, she was determined to out smart her father. She left home and decided she would just take the money herself. Why not? That's how he got it, right? She was successful, but ultimately it landed her in jail. Luckily, Donny came to the rescue and bailed her out, but it was her mother who asked him to. Before that though, when she came home with the big bag of money, her mother was suspicious.

"What's that you're holding, sweetheart?"

"Nothing, it's nothing! okay?"

"Stop lying to me! I've had enough of it, Cameron! I worry when you go running off and I don't know where you are."

"Fine! If you must know..." She had dumped the money out of the bag so that it covered the wooden coffee table with rolls of hundreds. Her mother looked up at her with a look of shock and her eyes were swelling with tears.

"What have you done? What did you do?!"

"I helped us! I got the money he owes us!"

"Cameron, you can't do that! You-"

"Why not, mom?! It's not like you were going to do anything about it! You just sit on the couch and let him fool around with our money! You're just gonna let us starve because you're too pathetic to stand up to him!"

Just thinking back on those words brought a stinging sensation through her body. How could she be so thoughtless...at that point, her mother didn't have anything to say. She left the room in tears. Thirty minutes later there was a loud banging on the front door and without waiting for someone to answer, he had barged through the door in a fit of rage. The lock was broken, so it wasn't hard. He emmediately saw all the money sprawled out on the coffee table and went to scoop it up when she came out of no where and shoved him away. She quickly scrambled to shove it all back into the bag and make a run out the front door when he caught her by her jacket hood and pulled her back.

"you little brat..."

"It's our money, not yours!" She had managed to get a hold of the lamp standing by the door and bashed him over the head with it, causing him to let go of her jacket and fall backwards onto the floor. The loud noise woke up her mother and she came running out into the living room in panic. He had slowly managed to get back on his feet, rubbing his forehead in pain.

"Cameron, what are you doing? Stop it! Just give him the money!" Her mother was in tears and really didn't know what to do. There was nothing she could have done.

"No! It's not his! He owes us!"

"Listen to your mother! Give it here!"


"Dammit, you've pushed it way too far, little girl!" He had slapped her across the face, sending her crashing to the floor. She was clutched to the bag and managed to stumble into the kitchen before he reached down and pulled it away from her. She refused to give up without a fight and pulled back. He was much stronger than her and easily yanked it from her grasp. In rage, she grabbed the nearest sharp knife and lunged it into his shoulder. He shrieked in pain and she took the bag from him and ran over to the fire place.

"Cameron!!" Her mother cried out in horror. He managed to yank the small blade out of his shoulder, blood falling everywhere around his side.

She should have listened to her mother. Why didn't she listen?

She had held the bag over the flames from the fire place, feeling the bruise forming on her cheek from the force of his hand. Her mother was on the floor crying hysterically. His features turned from pure rage to concern when he saw who he still considered the love of his life so distraught.

"Miranda...I-" He had reached out to touch her side, his other hand clutched his wound.

"Go, Adrian. Leave!" She pulled away.

She had stood by the fire place watching her estranged parents. She remembered how much hatred she felt towards both of them at that moment. She threw the bag of money in the fire and ran out the door.

As she came to the front door of her home, she wiped away a few last tears. She thought about what Donny had said. 'No one ever got anywhere from carrying around so much hate.' She decided right then and there that she was going to be happy. It didn't matter how many times people let her down or who her father was. She wasn't going to destroy herself over it. She promised herself right then and there that she would grow from it. She very quietly walked into the living room. She had almost forgotten how hungry she was. The house was dark and she knew her mother must have been sleeping. It must have been about 11 o clock at night. Tomorrow would be Sunday and then it was back to Monday. She wasn't going to skip school Monday. No, she was going to work hard. She had a lot of things to catch up on, it was her last year afterall. But she was going to do it. She slowly peaked into her mother's bedroom and saw her sleeping soundly. She didn't want to wake her, but she felt so guilty for all of the things she ever said to her, that she just had to give her a hug or something.

"mom?" She didn't respond.

"mom..." She shook her body slightly.

"Hhhmm?" She was half asleep, but sat up anyway and seemed surprised that her daughter had come home so soon.

"Cameron?" She threw her arms around her mother and hugged her tightly.

"I'm so sorry. I love you, mom."

"I love you, too."


And yes, I know, Tracy Morgan. Hilarious.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Jelly on a stone

So, today I saw Yogi Bear. You know, I never knew bears could talk before. Am I crazy for not knowing that? I mean, I haven't come in contact with too many bears in my lifetime, but the humans in this movie didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary concerning the matter. Even the random hobo with the shopping cart couldn't care less, he just wanted himself a chocolate bar. Strange...I'll have to think on this one for a while.