flummery

Nov 22

The Annual “Thing”

This time of year I get “inspired” to write. The days are short. The holidays present the promise of “free time.” Not “perfect” conditions, mind you, but conducive right? It almost never happens though. I get distracted. Or life just intervenes.

This year I’ve got a couple of deadlines. One for something that I haven’t started that’s due on December 13th. Another for a revision for submission at the end of this month. This could end badly or I could finally get significant writing done over the break.

Nov 21

Anomaly

It’s almost December. Why hasn’t this little tree even started to turn?
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Nov 20

please. if you can send out a little love.

kfedup:

my friend’s daughter. my daughter’s friend. is in the hospital tonight…a six year-old gorgeous girl. she has bleeding in her brain. hold tight beautiful. dammit.

Nov 17

I have no idea what I’m doing. Yeah, I know. What’s changed?

Nov 13

Celebrating.jpg

My little reason for living got straight A’s on her report card. I am celebrating appropriately.
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Nov 10

Flotsam

Melinda had been adrift for quite some time. Perhaps as far back as the mid 90’s when her father had his first stroke. Back then life revolved around Daddy. Daddy set the agenda and the pace. Work filled Melinda’s 9 to 5. Daddy took care of the rest of the hours Melinda wasn’t sleeping. She bowled with him, went to his barbecues, supported his civic projects, attended church with him.

Now Daddy barely knew he was in the world. And Mommy’s time was taken up with his care.

Melinda had her job, but little else. Many of her friends had married or moved. She dated some. But the men she knew were either too preoccupied with themselves or fairly brazen about making Melinda the next conquest. Naturally none of these men measured up to Daddy. Which was not a deal breaker. She knew the inherent the futility of even considering that she’d ever find a man as solid as her father.
But Melinda was tired of being alone. She wanted someone on her side. She wanted companionship. She wanted a co-conspirator. Melinda craved intimacy, physical and otherwise. Living untethered from her father had become unnerving. She needed to shake things up. She needed a way to shake herself awake. In tried and true middle-American fashion, Melinda settled on retail therapy as the cure for her malaise.
Melinda decided that getting a new pair of glasses would turn the trick. A new look. A new start. Somewhere to begin. Her old glasses had gone out of style somewhere during Clinton’s 2nd term. It was past time.

She hit the malls. All of them. Several times. Shockingly she found nothing that struck her. Nothing that would set her apart. Finding these new glasses became an obsession. It kept her up nights. She pored over catalogues and frantically clicked through web sites at work. She even tried the Eyeglass Hut at the local teen infested discount mall.

Eventually, amazingly, Miraculously Melinda found the perfect pair of eyeglass frames while traveling out of town for work. She wasn’t even looking for them when she hit upon them. But they were perfect! She paid for the frames on the spot and made arrangements for them to be shipped to her optometrist back home once her prescription had been fitted to them.

She literally skipped out of the store. The glasses arrived on a Thursday and Melinda made a 2:30 appointment to pick them up. The glasses proved to be an adequate salve for Melinda’s mood. They improved her outlook. They made her feel special. And for a time she believed and acted in a manner that indicated that she was indeed someone to be reckoned with.

Unfortunately the only person that truly cared for Melinda any longer was trapped inside his own mind. After he died she filled her free hours with polishing his memory and waiting for her mother to join him.
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Nov 8

I must get back to reading “The Rabbis Cat” before the Sandman seals my eyes shut for the night.