Fiction Friday

Craig stepped out of the shower and grabbed his towel. He already was feeling better, almost as if the hot water steamed some of the stress out of his body. He felt almost relaxed as he grabbed his towel off the bar and wiped the mirror. He toweled off, and slung the towel around his waist, tucking in the end so it wouldn't fall. He opened the bathroom door and started toward his bedroom down the hall. He stopped short, though, as his eye caught movement in his kitchen. He had lived alone since his girlfriend Carrie had moved out when they broke up six months earlier.

He quietly walked toward the kitchen, and saw a petite... blonde? Her hair was short, cut to the jawline at an angle, and had streaks of pink, green, and purple. He jumped back, surprised at the fact that someone was in his apartment. "Who the hell are you?"

The young woman closed his refrigerator door and smiled. "I'm Laney! And you must be Craig. How nice to meet you! Carrie's told me so much about you."

"How did you get into my apartment? And why are you even here?" Craig demanded. She didn't seem like a robber or murderer, but you never know in the city. Besides, if she was really Carrie's friend she would know they were history. "Tell me or I'll call the police." He hoped she wouldn't notice he wasn't exactly carrying a phone in his pocket.

"I'm Carrie's cousin. I've been in the Pacific Islands working for a year and we planned to meet up when I got back to the states. Didn't she tell you? Anyway, I couldn't reach her because apparently the phone number I have for her is wrong or something, but I knew your address and decided to come surprise her. Couldn't you hear me knocking?" she asked.

"Uh, no... I was ... "

Laney suddenly noticed how he was dressed. Or rather, not dressed. Her face turned as pink as the streaks in her hair. "Oh my goodness. I am so embarrassed! It never dawned on me that you'd be home during the day and showering. I thought you'd be at work and Carrie and I could catch up for a while before I met you."

"Let me put some clothes on real quick," Craig said. He hurried to his bedroom and closed the door, throwing on the first pair of jeans and t shirt he could find. How was he supposed to tell her about the breakup? It's obvious she knew Carrie... unless she was some stalker. He didn't get a bad vibe from her, though. And how did she get into the apartment? She never did answer that. He was still pulling the shirt down as he walked back down the hall. She wasn't in the kitchen any more, but was in the living room drinking one of his beers.

"I hope you don't mind that I grabbed a beer," she said. "It's been a year and I just couldn't resist."

"No problem," he said, getting one himself and sitting down on a bar stool at the counter that bridged the two rooms. "Are you really Carrie's cousin?"

Laney laughed. "Yes. Our mothers are sisters. They don't get along well, and I don't fit the conservative mold like the rest of the family. I'm the black sheep! Carrie and I stayed close, though, until I got fed up with family BS and took a job in a remote island village. I packed one suitcase with clothes and one with sunscreen and escaped."

"I still don't know you're not a stalker," Craig said. "Carrie never mentioned you to me. Tell me something no one else besides us would know."

"Like what, her birthmark on her ass?" Laney said. "Or her secret navel piercing from spring break that she finally took out because she was afraid of what her parents would say?"

Craig remembered the birthmark all too well. He knew about the piercing, also, and that she only had it for two weeks but it left a tiny scar.

© Copyright 2012 Christine (InspiredLife) (UN: christine918 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.

Mother's Day

This weekend is Mother's Day. My husband asked me what I want, and once again I can't think of anything that can be purchased. So, like previous years (this is getting to be a traditon!), here is my Mother's Day wish list.

Time. Time to do something for myself, time together as a family. Chatter and cuddles and games and love.
A weekend without electronics. No TV. No video games. No computer. No iPhone or iPod. (Skyping with Grandma excluded from this rule of course.)
Breakfast in bed. I want pancakes and fruit.
I'd love it if the girls made something for me. It's been years since I had a gift like that. Just a card from their hands, working together, is fine.
My parents are coming over for dinner on Sunday. I'll be cooking, but it would be very nice if just this once it wasn't the two mothers cleaning up the kitchen after. My husband and Emma could, right? I mean, we DO have a dishwasher.
Since my project last weekend, we now can easily access our piles of board games. I want to play together. We used to do this all the time, but not so much any more. Card games, board games, whatever. It's just so fun being present with each other. And no hurt feelings about winning or losing - it's just a game. The score doesn't count in the big picture, the time together having fun does.
I doubt we'll have time for a family trip to the park, but I would love that so much. It's too rare.

My wake up call

This blog post was shared on my Facebook feed this morning, and I read it as I was getting ready for work. The title is "How to miss a childhood" and it really struck home with me. We are guilty of this in our house, and I know we are not the only ones. Technology may be convenient, but we are missing out on so much! I don't spend nearly as much time simply playing with Sophie as I did with Emma. The four of us can be in the same room together, but we are not always present with each other.

This is going to change.

I haven't worked out all the details yet, and will of course involve my husband in this, but I strongly believe that we need to implement a "no phone/iPod" rule in the evenings in our house. There are notifications going off for games, social networking, new email, or texts constantly. And it's not just us - Emma is glued to her iPod Touch in one hand, texting with her phone in the other. Even Sophie works my phone like a pro! We need to spend more time together. Playing, coloring, crafting, going outside, reading - just being together. My husband and I need to spend more time talking to each other and enjoying each other's company more and the pseudo-company of far away Facebook friends less.

Time is too precious to waste.

In case of zombies

No, I don't buy into the whole "zombie apocalypse" thing, but this was fun. My team consists of Olivia Benson from Law & Order SVU, Spiderman, and Jon Stewart.

Not too bad.

But if I could choose from the list at will?

Can you imagine?? Between those three, they could save the entire planet from zombies! And outer space, too.

Would I help The Help?

I've been reading The Help on my Kindle. I've only finished nine chapters, though. It's taking me a while to read because it's so painful for me. I feel so frustrated at the injustice of how the maids are treated by both their employers and society in general. I feel heartbroken at how Aibleen's employer treats her own daughter. Having a two year old myself, reading the scenes breaks my heart for that poor baby. I find myeslf identifying strongly with the character Skeeter, although I'm sure that's the author's intent. Not only do we share the same height and pale skin, but also the desire to write about what seems so wrong to us. I don't think my words can change the world, but if I at least make someone stop to think, then I'll feel better.


But also I wonder if I was living in that same time period, would I really be like Skeeter? Would I have the courage to take action against the injustices I see all around me? I did grow up in the South - if I was born thirty years earlier, would I even notice? Or would I be more like Hilly, believing that segregation is not only acceptable but proper, and that the purpose of college is to find a husband? Are my feelings of injustice simply the product of being born in my generation instead of my grandmother's?
I like to think that I would still see the injustice. It would be heavy in my heart. I would support the Civil Rights movement, just like I support gay rights today. People are people, and that's it. There doesn't need to be labels. Human is the only race label I want to hear, and love is love. But I wonder if I would be brave enough to actually DO something.

This is what happens when mommy's phone is left unattended

A little girl takes photos and videos!

Last night I found a total of ten videos, and around 15 pictures, all similar to these. Sophie likes the front-facing camera. She also takes pictures with her sister's iPod and her phone, and Daddy's phone when she gets her hands on it.

I think someone needs her own camera for Christmas.

Winner winner chicken dinner

Today has been busy. With Emma's help, I put together two Closetmaid storage pieces, a cube unit and a two-door cabinet, and put them in the living room. We had one corner that was the problem corner - I couldn't figure out what to do with the things there! It's much nicer now.

So, tonight I'm going to share a pin from Pinterest. This one was our dinner tonight, in honor of Cinco de Mayo. If you follow through to the pinned recipe, though - that's not what I made. I followed the directions in the caption on Pinterest: 2.5 lbs boneless, skinless chicken, 1 packet taco seasoning, 1 packet ranch dressing mix, and 1 can chicken broth in crock pot until cooked through. Then I took out the chicken, shredded it, and returned it to the liquid while I cooked yellow rice and black beans. Very easy, delicious dinner!

Fiction Friday

Ellie parked her car in the driveway of the Mediterranean-style house.  She was already forming a mental picture of the interior – the foyer, the beautiful curved staircase, the sitting room, the kitchen… She was spending a lot of time on the kitchen.  The owner of the house had specific demands for how it was to look.  She had listed the perfect paint colors to set off the cherry cabinetry, and the perfect stone to cover the floor.  It seemed to some like a headache, but Ellie was glad to have a client with good taste. 

Ellie had wanted to work in this house since she first became an interior decorator seven years earlier.  She had passed it on the way to another client’s home.  That client, Mrs. Rosen, was her first “big” client; Ellie had done a small house that Mrs. Rosen’s daughter had bought when she graduated college, and was impressed enough to hire Ellie for her own house.  That was Ellie’s entry into the upper class homes, as Mrs. Rosen was well-known and respected in the waterfront community.  During that first job, Ellie had made subtle inquiries about the owners of the Mediterranean property, and patiently waited for the right time to approach the couple.

Now here she was, standing in the entrance with a work crew arriving any minute.  The furniture had been cleared out for painting, and she was already putting the drop cloth down on the hardwood floor of the living room.  She had already exposed the beautiful beams of the ceiling, and they were polished to a soft sheen.  She readied her sketches of how the room should look, so her crew foreman had a guide for the room, and set to work on the kitchen.  She and Carl had worked together for most of her career, and she knew she could trust him to do the job right. 

In the kitchen, Ellie peeled the painter’s tape off the now-dry walls, and set to work on the arched window over the sink.  It was so beautiful that she had decided to forgo window treatments, and instead to surround the glass with tiny, beautiful, multicolored tiles.  She wanted to do the tiling herself on this window, give it her own personal touch.  She was soon lost in her work, and jumped when Carl spoke behind her.

“We’re breaking for lunch, Ellie, do you want anything?”  Carl asked her.  Ellie looked at her watch and was shocked to see four hours had passed already.  She wasn’t even hungry; she had been too involved in the tiling. 

“No, thanks, Carl.  You all go ahead, and I’ll grab something when I am finished with this window.  I still have to clean off the extra grout and I want to add some color to the wall around it.”

“Suit yourself!  But I think you may be pushing yourself a bit too hard on this house,” Carl said.  “We’ll be back in an hour to clean up and move in the living room furniture.”

Ellie soon finished the window, and began cleaning the debris off the new marble countertops.  She was proud of the work she had done in this house, and thought of the meals that would be prepared in this newly transformed room.  Would the owner’s life be transformed as well?  She was reaching for a broom to start cleaning up the floor when Carl reappeared, taking the broom and handing Ellie a sandwich.  “We’ll do the cleanup; you go eat before you collapse.” 

Ellie gratefully handed another crew member the broom, and took her sandwich out to the patio.  She had big plans for this area, too, but they would come later.  For now she sat in a café chair and enjoyed the sunshine, the ocean waves breaking on the shore, and her turkey, provolone, and sprouts on whole wheat that Carl had brought her from the deli.  “It must be heavenly to have this every day,” she thought to herself.

When the kitchen cleanup was complete, they all carried the kitchen furnishings into the room.  Under Ellie’s guidance, the gleaming cabinets were restocked, the shiny new refrigerator was filled, and the wine rack was mounted and laden with full green bottles.  There was even room for the breakfast table she had found that suited the room perfectly.

Later that afternoon, after Carl and the rest of the crew had left for the day, Ellie made a final walkthrough o f the house.  Living room, sitting room, kitchen, dining room, foyer… all were beautiful.  She ascended the curving staircase, admiring the reclaimed hardwood treads she had refinished by hand.  Guest room, bathroom, office with floor to ceiling bookcases already filled, spacious master suite… picture-perfect. 

Ellie returned to the kitchen, poured a glass of wine from the wine rack, and took it back to the patio.  As she lay back in the lounge, sipping her wine, and watching the gulls dance over the ocean, she thought, “I bought this house and redecorated it with my own money.  I built my business and worked hard for every penny.  Now that is simply chic.”

© Copyright 2012 Christine (InspiredLife) (UN: christine918 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.

Intolerance, round 2

(See part one here)
This is getting out of hand.
The Knoxville News Sentinel also published a story last night about the debacle at the high school. This article reveals that a county school board member (not even the school system that includes the high school!) is calling for the teacher advisers of the yearbook to be brought up on criminal charges! That is ridiculous.

First, on what grounds? They have done nothing wrong, much less illegal. Seriously? I am so glad I did not vote for this board member.
Secondly, is this really what we want to teach our future journalists? People rant and rage against bias in the media, but if it matches their own personal bias, it's okay. Is that it then?
Third, the article in question was a paragraph. That's it. Just one student's story. It's not a multi-page story, or a dissertation, or propaganda piece. It's an example of one person being true to himself.

The offending article, photo posted on Facebook

I am fed up with the self-righteousness and "my way or no way" mindset of many people calling themselves Christians. They have forgotten that Jesus taught loving all, especially the "sinners." Trying to ban a student from graduating, simply because he was the subject of a small piece in the yearbook? That's just insane.

My own daughter wants to explore journalism and was excited to have the opportunity in high school. Now I'm not sure how I feel about it. On one hand, I'm glad the advisers allowed this to be published. It is a very open and accepting thing to do, especially in "the Bible belt" we live in. On the other hand, I hate to think of her being raked across the coals like this because something done to support a friend offends someone's backwards sensibilities.

Do we need to get George Takai involved again??

I saw this news story today, about the high school that Emma will be attending next year. Yearbooks just came out, and there is something called a "Pride Page" in the back. One student shared his story with a friend, who wrote an article for the page and titled it "It's ok to be gay." The student, Zac Mitchell, says, "I didn't think it was a big deal to be who you are because that's what they always told you to be who you are in school."

Be who you are. It's okay to be different. You are accepted.
Great messages, right?

Apparently, many other parents in our town do not think so. The school is under fire, unjustifiably. And sadly, many are using religion to justify their horrible behaviour.

Side note: I do consider myself a Christian. I attend church. But I do NOT believe in threatening, bullying, or harming other people for any reason, and especially not using God as an excuse. This is NOT a post against religious beliefs, but what some people do in the name of those beliefs.

Social media is being used heavily in this fight. Two Facebook pages are mentioned in the article, an original page created by parents in protest of the yearbook paragraph, and another one in support of the student. I am happy to say that the supportive page, Take a Stand Against the Ignorance in Lenoir City, has now over a thousand supporters.

I am ashamed of our town for being so small-minded and angry. But I am also proud of our citizens who are standing up against their behaviour and support equal rights for all.

Toddler tech

Technology has sure improved since Emma was little. I was impressed that she could work the VCR as a preschooler, but now Sophie easily works my iPhone! She knows where to find her apps, and she can even take photos all by herself.

Here are some of her favorite apps:

KidsPlayer, an app that plays video of popular PBS Kids shows

SuperWhy, her current favorite show. There are several SuperWhy apps; this one has four different games featuring each character.


Curious George at the Zoo, a learning game with different animals.

iTubeList I love this app for Sophie. I can add YouTube playlists to the app for her to watch, and can preview the videos first. It's so easy to search playlists, also. She has an Elmo list, an ABCs list, general toddler songs, a Pororo list, and a VeggieTales list. She LOVES to watch her videos.

She has other apps, too, but these are her favorites. I love them, too, because they give me a few extra minutes to finish getting ready for work, distract her when she's upset, and even give me time to finish a blog post!

Mean Girls was a documentary

Today's post is from a prompt I found here, but is also timely and relevant to a group I belong to.

"Journal for fifteen minutes or longer about why people leave mean, vulgar, or inappropriate comments online — the things they would never say to a person's face. Be sure to address gender differences while you are writing."

I've mentioned before the group of moms I'm involved with. I've made some great friends in this group, but as with any group of a good size there are personality differences and conflicts. Usually conflicts just blow over, but in some cases the claws really come out and people get nasty. It happened again yesterday, and after the drama dies down for the most part, there are always comments about free speech, "big girl panties," interesting discussion, hypothetical situations being misread, and excuses like that.

Yes, I called it excuses. When grown, adult women, varying in age but all old enough to have children, agree to form a group and agree to respect each others feelings and beliefs, despite any differences, societal rules must apply or the group will implode. Yes, sometimes snark is fun. And yes, humor is often misread on the internet. But when something is deeply hurtful, and known to be deeply hurtful, we need to back off and respect the other side. In some cases, it's best to agree to disagree and let it go. Just drop it, and don't keep making snide comments in other discussions, or make random jokes about the subject. Both parties are offended in the discussion, both should apologize, and all should just let it go.

THAT is the true meaning, to me, of "big girl panties." Just let it go. Be the bigger person and stop the arguing.

As for the prompt of why people do this? I don't know. Boredom? Need for attention? Desire to impress others? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe the instigators just have fun stirring up trouble.

Whatever the reason, all that is accomplished is discord and division in the group. The once happy group of mom friends is now two groups, with a majority of the members in common. It's pretty sad.

Why can't we just all get along?
(Thanks to Kate for the title!)

 

Need a hero?

I saw this sign in the hospital gift shop today. It would be cute in a little boy's room, right? But honestly, this innocent looking wall hanging both saddens and angers me.

Think about what it says. EVERY hero starts out as a BOY. So girls can't be heroes? I'm sorry, Joan of Arc. Your contribution to France's Hundred Years' War doesn't mean anything. Amelia Earhart, your many achievements don't matter. Sandra Day O'Connor, who needs a woman as Supreme Court Justice? The simple statement painted on that sign undermines centuries of women being heroes. Rosa Parks. Christa McAuliffe. Harriet Beecher Stowe. Susan B Anthony. The entire suffrage movement. Are these women any less heroes because they were born female? Do we really want our children to think so?

"But Christine, it's just a decoration. The manufacturer didn't mean anything by it." I know some of you are thinking that. And you know what? That's even worse. Whoever came up with this design is so oblivious to the continuing inequalities we face that this was produced without question. And it doesn't matter at all what the intent was in the first place. Because as soon as its purchased and hung in someone's home, little boys are absorbing the subtle message that girls don't matter as much, and little girls are getting the message that they can't accomplish their dreams.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

All-encompassing catch-up post

Greetings!
This week has been a busy one. I posted Monday about my car being in the repair shop, and on Tuesday ended up getting a new one! I'm very happy with my new car. It's bigger than any I've ever had, but isn't to "mom"ish (I think... I hope). My old car was fixable, but had nearly 220,000 miles on it and much more needing repair than the immediate problem over the weekend. While we had the opportunity and this car was at such a good price, we test drove it Monday afternoon and I picked it up after work on Tuesday. It is so much nicer than my old one! Emma has been exploring all the features and loves that there are so many extra outlets throughout the car.

If I'm in denial about mom-ish, please leave me to my delusion.

I also don't have much to report for Fit Mama Club. I haven't remembered to weigh myself yet this week so I don't know if I've made any progress. I've been staying off the elevators, though, and using the stairs at work. Last week I did have one soda, and decided to allow myself one a week. It's funny, though, that after I made that decision I haven't wanted it at all. Today in the cafeteria, even, I looked at the bottled drinks case and realized I didn't want to drink anything in it. I'm still filling my water bottle and using my Mio flavorings. I do have a glass of iced tea at lunch sometimes, but that's it.

Sophie was a funny bunny this morning. She woke up all full of mischief and giggles. She fed the dog part of her breakfast, then came running into where I was saying "Mommy, Tutto my eat!" (Tutto is Tucker, our dog, and she calls all food "eat") I asked her if Tucker ate her waffle. "Yeah!" Then, "Did you give it to him?" She clasped her hands in front of her, turned her head down, and looked up at me, "uh-huh." At least she was honest about it! Then on the way to her babysitter's house after dropping Emma off at school, I heard her making funny noises in the back seat. She had taken off her sandals and was tickling her own feet! She'd tickle, making a silly noise like an adult would do to a baby, then kick and laugh. And repeat. It was hilarious.

Confidence killer

My car is in the shop. It wouldn't start over the weekend, and with my husband traveling carpooling isn't possible. So, we took it in this morning, looked at a car I've had my eye on for a few weeks, and then went to get a rental for me since it's going to likely be tomorrow it's even looked at.

One thing I noticed, though. At both the repair shop and the rental agency, I stepped back and had my husband do all the talking. He's also the one talking to the dealer about the car I want if mine isn't worth repairing. Even though we've already bought three vehicles from this dealer, and I use the same shop for all my oil changes and repairs, past mechanic experience has killed my self confidence when dealing with anything auto-related. I've never had a bad experience at either place, but I am still afraid of being screwed over because I'm a woman.

I hate that about myself. Even when I do get repair work done on my own, I call my husband, call my dad, I've even talked with random strangers to make sure I'm not getting ripped off. I have zero confidence about auto decisions, and no idea how to change that.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone