Friday, November 4, 2011

One Day On a Bus:The "Star Trek" Effect

The Star Trek Effect

     Dr. Edward Graves had always been an outcast, mostly because he was very, very shy. When he was forty, he saw an episode of Star Trek where this genus had built himself a female companion. Ignoring, the unhappy ending, he figured that that was probably a good idea, considering that, he too, was a genus, and that human females intimidated him. If he were to build one, he would know that there would be nothing to be afraid of. He was wrong. Obviously, there had been some problems in the small town where he had sent India to live (to see if she would fit in). She had been an outcast too. It also seemed as if she were in serious physical danger. Now, she was on the phone doing something she had never done before. She was crying. She was very confused; the plastic in her nose was broken; she missed him. He had told her that she would have to be shut down if she became violent. But that was before she left. Now she sounded so helpless. The bus driver had tripped her, and she had been humiliated. She was real, at least to him. Could he really kill her?

I apologize for the break. Here is the next installment of "One Day On a Bus". Please enjoy and feel free to share.

Thanks for reading!

heidi

Saturday, September 17, 2011

Brkn Kybard

Brkn Kybard

iii cam iin t my dsk t writ and fnd that my swtiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiipiiiiiiiiiiiis had bn in my ffic.
nw iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii'm miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiissiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing lttrs and my iiiiiiiiiiiiii sticks.

is iiiiiiiit wtiiiiiting that's hard....r is it parnting?

Whr's my thr kybard???????

h.

9/17/11

Friday, September 16, 2011

One Day On A Bus: Midge

Midge

     Answer the damn phone, Shirley. Come on. You thought that the shoot-out you saw at the Piggley-Wiggley was hot snot waittill you...Shirl? Girl, did I wake you up? God, I am so sorry. I just had something on my mind that was a buggin' me...do you want me to let you go? I could always call Belinda Jo. Are you sure? I didn't interrupt anything, did I? Woman! Don't you tell me that you have got Mary McFarber's husband Burt over there. I don't wanna hear it! I am a good woman. I only called you to tell you what happened to me today that was very peculiar, but if you would rather do other things, well, then that's fine with me. What? I'm not bothering you though, am I? Good. Well listen to this. You know that new librarian, India Bellegraves, right? Well we were on the same bus today...the one from midtown. I was at the Shoe Shanty, and I got Harv the most adorable pair of bunny slippers on sale there today. They are so funny! They're...what? Oh! Yeah! Well anyway, I was trying to be sociable, you know I always did feel so sorry for the poor girl with no friends and all, but she wouldn't even look at me, and when I practically forced her to talk to me, well! You would not believe how rude she was. I was so offended.  We come to the stop and when she went to get out, you know Charlie Hicks, Em's ex? yeah, well he's drivin' the bus, and India and I go to get off...did I tell you that she lives in Bessie's boardin' house up the block from me? Me either! Anyway, so we're gettin' off, and you know what a.....a...well you know, unpleasant man Charlie is, well, he did something, and tripped her. I can't figure out how he did it, but she fell down the stairs into this puddle. You are not going to believe this next part...actual smoke comes up from where her face is in the puddle, and she stands up and brushes...I was on the stairs...Yes! This has a point. Patience is a virtue, Shirley, dear. Miss Bellegraves walks past me, and I smelled that smell that your cars get when something has broken in your engine on a rainy day, and she looks at him, and she SMILES, and then she punched him out. Then, like nothing happened at all, she just gets out and goes home, and I think, that she is plannin' on movin' out, because there's a van down at Bessie's and the only other boarder she has is Frank the deputy, and you now he's not goin' anywhere since the sheriff died in that hunting accident with him last year. Now, don't you think that's  suspicious? What? What do you mean you don't care? I thought it was important, and interesting...I asked you if you'd rather not talk. What? Fine. I don't have to take this from you miss...hello? Bitch. Don't say goodbye. you know, I wonder what Mary McFarber's doin' right about now, and I wonder if she'd like to hear something interesting.

heidi

This is the second in the "One Day On A Bus Series". I have had trouble with Midge's voice. She sounds like a couple of different people to me. I tend to go back and forth on what she is like and it shows in here.  Although, it was FUN to write. There are some people that I have introduced that I never wrote a piece for, that I think I want to write for now. I wonder how they would fit in? Maybe this will go on a little longer than I had planned. hhmmmm....

Anyway, we have reached another anniversary. This marks the beginning of the fourth week for the lasagna. Thanks for reading, and for the comments and reactions!

Thursday, September 15, 2011

The River

The River

I stand in the river of
my actions and it drips,
drips, drips down and I
doubt if I was right, but
then I stop.
Because I know I was right,
right, right, and that I hav
                                       e
                                     don
                                    e no w
                                      ron
                                        g

                                        I
                                       sit
                                     and I
                                       thi
                                         n

                                         k
                                       and
                                      I lis
                                        ten
                                          t

                                          o
                                        my t
                                      hought
                                        s as
                                           t

                                           h
                                         ey d
                                        rip, d
                                          rip,
                                            d
                                               r
                                                  ip, drip, drip,
                                              drip, drip, drip, 
                                                   drip, drip,
                                                       drip.

heidi

originally written around 1990.

I really like this one. I liked (and I still do I guess) to play with the way the poem looks. I also was really into the sound of the words together, so sometimes I wasn't really after the meaning.  This one does have a story, that was really in line with a lot of stuff that I was writing at the time. It makes me smile. I am working on a new immediate story that I will probably post as soon as it's finished. Look out tomorrow for the second part of "One Day On A Bus". Thanks for reading!

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

to Melissa: Here's Your Fucking Answer

to Melissa: Here's Your Fucking Answer

Okay, you wanna know?
You wanna know why I think I'm unlikable?
Why I'm afraid I don't like myself?
Why I am sure that people won't like me if they know me?

Fine.

But first, I think you're going to owe me a big plate with some bacon and mashed potatoes and probably a little something dark chocolate.
(Because really, who can't like themselves after bacon?)

I'm not perfect. I don't have whatever it is that makes people okay.
I don't even know what that is.
And since I don't know, I need to be perfect.
And I can't be perfect.
I've tried. I've tried very hard and failed.
So I keep working towards perfect.

I've tried to fake that whatever it is...
(shit! is that what the French mean by je ne sais quoi?)
And what I feel: is fake. I feel like I am performing. 
And I'm tired of performing.
I'm so tired.

I feel like an empty, drained, dead vessel.
That's not interesting.
I wouldn't want to be around an empty, drained, dead vessel.
The most fun you could have would be to yell "echo" in the mouth.

I don't know why I'm unlikeable (aside from the fake stuff-that's not cool, and the dead vessel stuff-that's dull)
And I'm afraid to find out why I suck.
What if it's so big that it overwhelms me?
What if it's so bad that I like it?
What if it's nothing, and I've wasted all this time? And I have to go make friends?
DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH FUCKING WORK THAT WOULD BE???????

There, happy, now?

I'm great.
And seriously, where's the bacon?


heidi

begun 9/8/11
completed 9/14/11

So this was not inspired by a direct writing challenge, but rather a couple of conversations, and an email asking me when I was going to write about bacon. I took it as a writing challenge, and here it is. I hope you like it.

Reconnecting

Reconnecting


My sister in the testicle!
March 10, 2005
To: "Heather" hzr@djflsbndfjvlnsvnji****.com
From: "Reilly" rlyboo@djflsbndfjvlnsvnji****.com

H. <3

That is too funny! It's good to know that I am not the only one that has gone through this. Testicles are not fun! Although, your last email made me feel a little guilty, so now I have a confession to make. I so did not get my testicle through spin class. That was just something I told the gynecologist so I wouldn't look so dumb. (Although I think it's obvious that I haven't been going to spin class.) A while ago my friends Rick and Stacy and I decided at the last minute to drive to Georgia to get lottery tickets. The jackpot was huge! Anyway, I was on my period and I was wearing tampons, and I forgot to take any extra, and we really didn't stop a until the way back. Anyway, the gist is I wore that thing so much longer than I should have and I think it was in wrong (I don't really wear them that often) because it felt like it kept sliding down. So I kept having to get a wet nap and, as discretely as is possible in the back of a Honda, try to push it back up. Rick and Stacy were laughing at me the whole time. I kept getting more and more sore. How could I tell a doctor I just met that? It is too humiliating.  Since I haven't had that gland removed, no more tampons for me! (or spin classes!) lol.

Hugs and Kisses!

R. <3

heidi
finished 9/14/2011 12:22 am

This needs expanding, but my son is having a hard time sleeping and I am finding it hard to type with a toddler in my lap.

Monday, September 12, 2011

The Beckoner's Song

The Beckoner's Song

Cain came to me
in dreams of loneliness.
Beckoning back yesterday
and her illicit easiness.

There is safety in old ways,
set, destructive creatures
that I know
want me. Desire me.

Rejection leaves my heart
bruised. An easy, ripe
fruit ready for the past.
For Cain.
And his sweet songs of security
that disguise my destruction
as I turn
and flee
towards
what
was.

heidi

08/26/92

Another one from years ago. I like this one too. It makes me sad though, so I think I need to work on something funny. I am looking forward to writing the next installment of "Reconnecting", and being the only person who seems to like it! Thanks for reading!

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Goodbye

Goodbye

I never said goodbye
I didn't see the necessity
I long for just one more hug
One more smile
one more chance to be your sweet girl
I miss you more than I knew
I could miss anybody
and I wish you could have been here to meet my babies
Goodbye Grandma, I love you.
-heidi
i think this was originally written 8/2000

This one is for my Grandma. Sending out warm thoughts to everyone at the end of this sad anniversary. Thank you for reading.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Meme

Meme

the last time I saw you
  you were
    in a bed,
    tucked in.
you looked so small.
i brought you my baby girl.
you didn't recognize me,
but you liked seeing my daughter.
you stuck your finger from out of the cover
and
    held it out to her. She smiled and
  grabbed it and you smiled back.

a few months later, your body was in a box.
my heart was breaking and the preacher...
  was a dipshit.
i wanted to yell "Shut up! You don't know
what in the fuck you are talking about!"
then my sweet girl loudly crapped her diaper.
the women in the pew behind us giggled.
it was perfect. and i knew that you were laughing.

heidi

originally written 8/9/11

Yay! I have actually managed to publish a post for Saturday on a Saturday! This one is for my Meme.

Friday, September 9, 2011

One Day On A Bus: India

India

     This has got to be one of the worst days of my entire life. Doctor Graves never informed me that life could be this strenuous. Maybe I'll be able to relax when I get home. First thing I'll do is call Dr. Graves and ask him what to do about Harv. I'm not at all pleased with what he tried to do in the catacombs today. I really wanted to hurt him. Dr. Graves will tell me if my response was correct. Oh dear, the situation has become even more repugnant. Midge is trying to talk to me. I know Dr. Graves says that I should work on human relations, but she just reminds me of her husband. It makes me thing that they're conspiring against me. The husband tries to force himself on me physically and now the wife is trying to do it socially. Finally. We've stopped. This is my exit. Why did I tell her that I lived at the boarding house? Now she wants me to invite her over.
     What!? How did I end up her, on the ground, in this puddle? The bus driver tripped me! Forgive me Dr. Graves, but...ah. That felt better. I guess I should talk Dr. Graves now. He'll be most disappointed that I resorted to violence. I hope he doesn't decide to shut me down.

heidi

This was a part of a writing assignment that I had in a Fiction Writing class taught by Geoff Schmidt in either 1989 or 1990. We had to write about someone falling on a bus from different points of view. I kind of fudged the assignment a little, but not that bad. I am going to post these weekly on Fridays for the next month (maybe five weeks). You will definitely see the geek in me emerge as the story progresses. This is the sort of stuff that I really like writing, but I am having a hard time getting back into prose.

I wish I could find my old syllabi for some of those classes and redo some of the assignments to get me back into the swing of things. If anyone has any ideas for writing assignments, or resources that they would like to share, I would be most grateful. (Although no APA writing exercises...I am done with research writing for a while!) Also, if anyone has any challenges for me that would be kind of cool too. Like, maybe you want me to write a poem where the last word of each line has to rhyme with "Taliban", or you want me to write a one page piece about the color magenta. (okay, there are a couple of exercises right there.) And, now that I have written it and published it on the blog, it would be beyond pathetic if no one offered any challenges. Since I know my friends read this, I know y'all wouldn't want me to be all sad on the Internet!

Finally, happy two weeks! I hope you have enjoyed reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing and transcibing it ( I have a lot of stuff saved to a five inch floppy that I can't figure out how to access...any suggestions there would be nice too!)

Have a great weekend, y'all!