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Winter Flash – Final Four

January 15, 2014 by

Ruby red lips and a Mona Lisa smile, perfect.  Those eyes, dark and mysterious framed by arched brows, perfect.  Hair, windblown or laying gently across bare shoulders, always perfect.

He was fascinated with perfection, obsessed with the woman of his dreams.  His fantasy just beyond his grasp.  Disappointment a constant, his failure riding him like a harbinger of disaster each time he reached out to grasp his obsession and she slipped through fingers moist with anticipation.

He knew what to do, what was missing.  He knew and was prepared to make any sacrifice.

He laid out his tools on the counter, smiling to himself as he checked each with care; nothing was too good.  He stared at the picture taped to the mirror as he reached down, with one hand grabbed his pene and testes with the other made one cut severing it all.

Now, now he would be perfect.

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“Where are you?”

“Right down the road, be there in minutes.”

July sat down to wait, ‘minutes, huh, been three days’.

Soon she heard the front door slam, “Honey, I’m home”.

She swung hard, cracked his head wide open that would teach him the difference between minutes and days.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

She was without tits or ass.  She had a gap between her teeth.  Her eyes crossed and her hair that terrible color.

Why did they all flock to her like crazed flies on road kill?  Suzann fumed from her lonely barstool as Trudy flung her head back, laughing.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

She turned the can facing toward her, label out.  She checks the shelves and begins turning the cans labels facing out.

“Shoppers the store will close in five minutes.”

She stared into her empty cart; her compulsive behavior had stopped her at the soup aisle. She sits down and quietly weeps.

WinterFlashinthePan

It is the last of winter, actually I am very late getting these in but I thought I would share them with you anyway.  Winter of Disturbing Flashes. Flash in the Pan is brought to you by the remarkable Red of M3 fame, to join in the fun read the rules at the link provided and get to flashing!

These were the final words and their count:

Obsessed with a word limit of 150, coming in dead on the nose at 159.

Cracked with a word limit of 50, coming in dead on the nose at 50.

Crazed with a word limit of 50, coming in dead on the nose at 50.

Compulsive with a word limit of 50, coming in dead on the nose at 49.

Hashtags: #flashfiction #getpublished with @RedmundPro

Filed Under: Flash Fiction Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , ,

The Problem is Us

January 12, 2014 by

soapboxpileWe are the greatest problem in our own government at every level, we the people that is.  Our lazy, pedantic manner of shuffling to the polls, pulling the lever or punching the card with no thought other than what letter is after the name, rather than considering the consequence of our vote.  With our pitiful allegiance to party or even worse our zombie like love affair with those who have screwed us time and again, we know their names though and pull the lever for them as if they were members of our dysfunctional family.

We are the greatest problem with Washington, we have no one but ourselves to blame for every single bad behavior, delinquent assclownery and filibuster for fun currently occurring on the hill.

America, we truly do have a problem and that problem is us!

We are lazy, we are intellectual plodders, we are sheep who refuse to see the cliff we are running toward blindly but with great glee.  We willfully wave the flag of patriotism the moment anyone suggests we might not be the “best” country in the world, yet we fail on every scale that matters to measure up to other industrialized nations.  What matters you ask, how about the following:

  • Primary education, ranked 18th
  • University education, the most costly in the world
  • Trade Schools, the most costly in the world
  • Highest number of citizens held in prison for non-violent crimes (millions)
    • Related to this, highest number of juveniles sentenced as adults

I could go on with that list, those are just some of the highlights, poverty grows, racism runs rampant, inequity is wagging the dog and women are dancing the two-step backward with every election.  The real problem though, it isn’t those clowns in the state houses, nor is it the clowns in Congress; the real problem is us.

Every single time we have the opportunity to go to the polls and exercise our right to vote, we fail to exercise our most important muscle, our mind.  We have handed over the town square, kicked over the soapbox and Wikipedia Imageplaced our necks into the Pillory without force of arms.  We are sheep, no matter whether we are pulling the lever for the ‘D’ or the ‘R’ we refuse to demand real change to the way in which our government operates, instead shaking our heads at what is directly in front of our faces.

Do you really believe the following makes any sense?

According to the CIA World Facts Book, the median age in the US is 37.2, which breaks down further to 35.9 years for men and 38.5 years for women.  This is what the US Congress looks like, is it any wonder we are still fighting the same silly azzed battles over our uterus and paychecks.

800px-USpop2010.svg

Most people look forward to retirement, the average age of retirement is 61 in the US though many are working today well into their early 70’s just to make ends meet and make up for heavy losses taken during market crashes.  Statistics say the average American will change jobs 10 – 15 times during their career, some will only spend 4 years in any one job.  So tell me why the average Congressperson seeks tenure, a seat is theirs for life?

Average in the Senate: 10 years

Longest serving member: 39 years

Average Age: 62   *   Oldest Member:  80

Average in Congress: 19 years

Longest serving member:  58 years

Average Age: 57  *  Oldest Member: 90

Then there is the issue we always have to scratch our heads over, why doesn’t Congress look more like the country? I mean really, why doesn’t it look more like where you and I live and work? This is what the country generally looks like:

populationdistribution

I know, somewhat hard to read broken up by all those states, but notice with the exception of a few states distribution of races are pretty even.  So to make it easier, look at these:

race totalpopulation

Does that make it easier to see, we simply do not have a representative government. No way, no how.

Finally we come to what is most puzzling, this constant insistence to pray away every damned thing.  Opening prayers to make certain God is on their side when they take food out of the mouths of the poor, when they give the wealthy another tax break, when they send young men and women to die in another thankless war on a lie.  With the exception of a few, every single last solitary one of these fossilized burdens sucking on the public teat claims some form or another of Christianity, entirely ignoring the rest of their constituents and their Constitutional Rights to live without having their rights trampled by religion every time they draw breath.

RELIGION us

So we are the problem, we allow this continue by not demanding representative government that truly and fully represents the people.  We are the problem, only us not them who are gleefully rubbing their hands together with the money they earn sitting on their collective asses doing nothing, becoming millionaires while talking a good game.  We are the problem when we support this type of government, which is nothing if not corrupt.

Who in their right minds believes any of this makes sense?  When will we demand changes to our government that do?

You must be 25 to serve in the House and 30 to serve in the Senate, there is however no top end no retirement age.  You can just continue to toddle on in there with your drool cup until you drop dead, how about we start considering the consequences?  How about you must retire from elected office at 72, no more running the country sorry folks, leave it those young whippersnappers.

A Congressperson gets two years to screw things up, while a Senator gets six years. Now personally I think we should force a bit of objective thinking into this process, you can’t run for the Senate unless you have served at least one term in the House.  This will weed out some of the real nutcases and move some of the better ones up the chain.  Term limits are critical I think, no more seats for life this is ridiculous; three terms in the House and three terms in the Senate, that is it then it is back to the private sector with you.  If you were really good you can run again for either house of Congress after one Senate term or six years, whichever comes first.

Do we run a risk with this?  We might, but we run far less risk this way than we have today.  What we have today is simply a FUBAR.

Filed Under: Series: The Soapbox Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , ,

Wallowing, Not

January 4, 2014 by

img-thingToxicity, I have had that in abundance recently and I have allowed it to color my world, including my view of self.  I have curled into myself, finding my bed and sleep the only place of safety, every place else unwelcoming and downright disturbing.

I believe the term is depression, maybe self-pity.

Here is what I know for certain, I cannot continue this way it is unhealthy and stupid.  Here are the other things I know, the things that have happened in the past 90 days, the things that are affecting my terrible self-doubt:

  1. My husband decided marriage to me was too hard and he would be better served elsewhere, without the burden or responsibilities that go with marriage.
    1. Without notice, he left, without word, without good-bye.  Damn that hurt.
    2. In October of last year, I accepted a full-time job with an organization after years of being independent.  I did this to provide a more stable income since I was the primary breadwinner.  Honestly, I think I knew this was not a good fit, something told me but I ignored my intuition.
      1. The environment was toxic.
      2. I was miserable from the very first week.
      3. I worked with bullies.
      4. December 31, 2013 was my last day.

Now to the rest, could there be more?  Yes, of course, there can be more and certainly, there is always more.  I realize I have been feeling ‘not me’ for a very long time, maybe years.  I have compromised myself, repeatedly for the sake of peace.  Some of those compromises have been small things, some though have been compromises of self and they have spread across my environment creating a true lethal combination of self-doubt and unhappiness.

What are the visible signs?

  1. My environment, where I live is truly a mess, there are layers of dust everywhere, things are not where they belong.  This isn’t the home I want to live in; this isn’t how I use to live.  I would be ashamed to invite friends to visit me and I always feel as if I have to make excuses for the mess I live in.  This was a battle I fought constantly, for help and for compromise.  I lost the battle, even emotionally.
  2. My work, what I do for a living and what I want to do for the next fifteen to twenty years has been compromised in my head.  I was once very sure of myself, of my skill, competency and capability.  I thought I was great at what I did and never sold myself short.  Now?  I don’t know anymore, I have allowed myself to be bullied and undermined, by others and in my own head.  Yes, this is a tough market and yes, this is a hard life especially at my age.  I didn’t choose easy, however, I am good at what I do and have great success at my back so what the hell is wrong with me?

I have never been one sink into dark places and stay there, never been one to dwell in caves without light.  I really despise throwing pity parties lasting for more than a day or two, so what the hell is the problem, why can’t wet_dogI seem to shake this one off like a dog shakes water after a swim?  Is it my age?  Or is it some of these issues have been building up and I didn’t really notice, didn’t pay attention instead allowing them to fester like an untreated wound.

No promises, really they are impossible.  No resolutions, I have never made them and kept them beyond the first week of a new year.  Some simple and easy actions though, things I can achieve to perhaps make things less overwhelming in the short term, make it easier to navigate what I suspect will be the challenging time ahead of me.

Here is what I know needs to happen for me to begin to feel as if I am back in control:

  1. Pick a room, any room and clean it top to bottom.  Throw away what I don’t need, organize what I do need or want to keep, tag anything and everything that can or should be donated.  When the room is done, move onto the next room.
    1. If I find the effort to daunting, hire help, it might just be money well spent.
  2. Spend a minimum of 2 hours per weekday looking for and applying to new opportunities, include both contract positions and full-time.  Reach out to industry contacts, get active on the boards and manage my own career again stop letting others dictate terms.
    1. Set rates and stick to them!
    2. Do a real search for local companies, I really would like to stop traveling and have a real life that includes staying local.
  3. Start doing things!  Do anything once a day (other than going shopping) that gets me out of the house and around people.

That is it; choice is what it really is about isn’t it?  I have a choice to wallow in my hurt, roll about in my misery, reel in my pain or I can start to live again.  So what if living again means I will do most things alone for now, I have traveled for work for the past twenty-two years and this means I have done most things alone five days a week.  Hell this means the reason most of my ‘in real life’ friends don’t live in the same city I live in is because I met them when I was on the road, working in a city I didn’t live in, so just what the hell is my problem now?

I read this great post the other day by Tori Nelson at the Ramblings, she said it all in one word Timshel.  I so appreciated her post I wanted to share it with you.

Filed Under: Series: Dumpster Diving Tagged With: , , , , , , , , ,

Small Joys

January 3, 2014 by

The holidays are finally over; I can only say I am grateful.  I found myself tearful, often.  In fact, more often than not, I found myself stepping out of the room so I could have a good cry.  How badly does that simply suck?  I wrote a different post for today, I decided I would post it tomorrow, today are my holiday stories.

Small stories of things that didn’t suck.  Stories proving the world will continue to spin and I won’t fall off, there are good people in it.

My favorite store in the entire world (other than DSW and Neiman Marcus Outlet) is Central Market.  I drive nearly twenty miles out of my way to shop at Central Market because it makes me happy.  This day 686px-FlowerShop_ShangHaiStreet_HKsolidified my love forever.  It was the day after DB took flight and I was feeling battered, barely hanging by my fingernails and certainly not up for pleasant banter.  I wanted fresh flowers to brighten my dismal mood and my dull table.  Wandering aimlessly, I picked from the individual bins when a woman slightly younger than me asked if she could assist, apparently she didn’t notice the storm cloud over my head.  She persisted though, silly girl, asking again if she could help and suddenly out of my mouth came the stupidest thing, “No, you can’t help me.  My husband of fourteen years left yesterday without a word, without good-bye or fuck you and all I want is some stupid flowers because nobody else will ever buy them for me again!”  I stared at her dumbfounded by my inability to act in a socially acceptable manner; she stared at me likely for the same reason, really who does that?  I found myself crying in front of a perfect stranger in the middle of Central Market.  With compassion and kindness, Maryam squeezed my arm, helped me make a beautiful bouquet and talked to me.  When I was done, when I made my way to the checkout stand with my groceries and my flowers she walked over and told the checker, “The flowers are on Central Market today”.

So I cried twice.  I hugged her for her kindness and reminding me there are lovely and compassionate people in the world.  Two days later I wrote a letter to Central Market telling them how much her gesture, her kindness and her empathy meant to me.  Yesterday, I saw her again and told her in person while we made another beautiful bouquet.

Other things that don’t suck, my children and their partners, my Wife-in-Law, my grandchildren and the family of my daughter-in-law all of whom made this holiday season bearable and sometimes even joyful.  Friends who have reached out to me throughout this season with short notes and telephone calls, just to check in and see if I was okay, friends here in my virtual world leaving me their e-mail address and talking to me, letting me know I wasn’t as alone as I felt.  You all just can’t imagine how much that means; when I see your notes, my spirit is lifted.

Another story from the holiday season, because family stories are important.  I spent Christmas Eve and morning at the home of youngest son and his marvelous partner, they are truly perfectly matched, the love that fills their home, between them and her children is addictive.  My wife-in-law was also visiting from Seattle (I adore her) and so Christmas was a happy time, despite the bittersweet undertones; she

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is going through her own challenge with her marriage also falling apart around her head, her husband notifying her on the very same day as mine of his intention to end their 30 year partnership (assclown).  Needless to say, she and I were challenged in our joy, but she and I were with the sons we loved, were also with each other and oddly, both take great pleasure in our company.  So between Moscow Mules, a perfect Mexican feast cooked by our children, watching our grandson open presents and planning for a future without our husbands there was laughter to be had.  I suggested my much-loved WIF come live with me; I find I have a significant amount of room now.  For some reason our sons find this idea ‘strange’, their mothers living together; she and I laughed uproariously at their discomfort!

Christmas morning found me awake long before the rest of the household, the first pot of coffee long gone before anyone else stumbled out of bed.  Wrapped in flannel and love, awaiting the arrival of two little girls and one more round of gift-wrap madness we spent our morning quietly chatting over a superlative breakfast cooked by my son (who knew).

Christmas day found the WIF and me at the home of my eldest sons in-laws; this is something of a tradition for the big holidays.  I am so grateful for the invitation and how I have been embraced by this large and loving family, it is a gift.  Theirs is a blended family that has blurred the lines by love, it is spectacular to witness and each time I am invited to their home I am awestruck by the immensity of their love, compassion, humor and this time their empathy.  It never surprises me why my son loves his wife; she comes from a family that understands commitment and love.  It never surprises me why I use to tell him he needed to marry her or I was keeping her when I see her with her family.

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This time though, well it was a bit overwhelming and I was brought to tears.  This, this was what I had wanted for myself.  This love, this commitment; this is what I wanted for me.  This is what I failed to build and this failure tore at my heart.  At one point during the celebrations I found myself walking outside simply to cry, just a moment of pure alone tears but it wasn’t to be because these are kind and loving people.  One of them saw me walking away and followed, without a word just followed and with a touch; a simple hug let me know I wasn’t alone, then with a bit of humor pulled me out of  my black cloud and back into the loving embrace of family.  I am so grateful to her for her empathy.

So those are my Christmas stories 2013.

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