I like fall and spring best.
Can you read into something like that?
Does it reflect my transient nature?
Do I like fall and spring because I like change?
Or do I happen to enjoy the colors of fall and spring over the stasis of summer and winter?
I like overcast weather, too.
What does that say?
That I prefer reliability and consistency over extremes?
I enjoy sun and I enjoy rain, but...
Too much sun and I end up staying inside, watching the grass turn brown.
And too much rain soaks into my bones and not even a mound of blankets harvesting register air can warm me through.
But an overcast day...
If I wake up and it's overcast, I know there's no frost to scrape off my windows
And my cheeks and jaw will survive the walk to work.
I won't be squinting into the sun on while I'm driving,
And any pictures taken that day will be even-toned,
no backlighting or closed-eye smiles.
I guess you can't read into things like that.
Just take it at face value.
I like fall.
I like spring.
I like cloud blankets.
That's all.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Saturday, August 09, 2008
My PAAS Part 1.3
After the workout, they staggered to the pool, sweaty and panting. Charlie pulled Jo into a side-hug as they walked and asked, "Feel better?"
"Yeah."
Tango fell in step and asked, "So, Papa Charlie, how does it feel to be in charge?"
Mike pushed Tango. "He can't be Papa Charlie. That's two names. He'd just be Charlie and then Charlie would mean "Papa's pet" forever, the way Papa means "Supreme Leader of the Universe"."
"It does not," Tango said.
"Does too. I asked him when I was a runt and that's what Papa said. So it's true," Mike said.
"To answer your question," Charlie spoke up, "I feel nervous. But excited. I'm looking forward to it, but I'm afraid of making a mistake."
Mike and Tango exchanged a look and even Jo laughed.
"What?" Charlie asked.
"Oh, Charlie!" Tango began in a sing-song voice, "It's my first time. I'm so nervous, but excited. I'm afraid of making a mistake and you'll never sleep with me again!"
"Shut up." Charlie chased after the two of them for a little, but gave up.
They regrouped at the edge of a cliff, a rushing underground waterfall roaring next to them. They lined up and stared at the black pool at the bottom.
"Man, I hate this part," Mike said.
"You can always take the runt path," Kilo pointed to a narrow pathway that curled from where they stood around the edge of the cavern to the pool below.
"We'll only treat you like a runt for a few days. Spoon feeding, changing your drawers for you..." Tango trailed off.
"What'd you say?" Kilo laughed.
"I mean, not really..." Tango said.
Jo was silent, standing with her toes gripping the edge of the cliff, her eyes closed, feeling the updraft of misty air on her face.
"Aw, I hate it when she does this," Mike said.
"You hate everything," said Kilo.
"Give her some space," said Charlie, and they all backed away from her.
Eyes kept closed, Jo slowly raised her arms. When they were level to the ground, she leaned forward just enough to send her over the edge. Her body stayed rigid as she fell and Jo pretended that she was skydiving through the wide blue sky, through bright, cold clouds, the ground stretching out forever around her... Jo learned how to time her dive just right so that she slowly pulled her arms over her head and they made their point just as her rotation through the air brought her head down for perfect submersion.
From above, it seemed like Jo lost her balance, went rigid, and for several agonizing seconds seemed sure to do a bellyflop or break her neck. Everyday they came here after their workout, and everyday they held their breath as she fell.
She slid into the water, speeding deep into the dark water. Jo angled her body up and floated for a moment, completely suspended. Then she gave a strong kick and swam back up. The boys all let their breath go when her head broke the surface.
"You know, it probably wouldn't be so scary if she didn't close her damn eyes," Kilo said.
"No one's asking you to watch," Charlie smiled.
"Come on, you pansies!" Jo shouted.
"Last one in's a scared little runt!" Tango shouted as he ran over the edge. Yelling, he decided at the last moment to do a cannonball, landing on his back. "Ow!"
Charlie and Kilo pushed each other over and managed decent pencil dives. Which left Mike at the top, staring down at them.
"Come on! Shouldn't it be easy by now?" Kilo shouted.
"It's never easy, staring at your own death!" Mike called back.
"You baby!"
Jo and Kilo started splashing each other. Mike couldn't even hear it over the waterfall.
Tango started the chant.
"Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!"
Jo and Kilo stopped splashing to join.
"Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!"
Finally with a terrified yell, Mike jumped into the oblivion.
"Yeah."
Tango fell in step and asked, "So, Papa Charlie, how does it feel to be in charge?"
Mike pushed Tango. "He can't be Papa Charlie. That's two names. He'd just be Charlie and then Charlie would mean "Papa's pet" forever, the way Papa means "Supreme Leader of the Universe"."
"It does not," Tango said.
"Does too. I asked him when I was a runt and that's what Papa said. So it's true," Mike said.
"To answer your question," Charlie spoke up, "I feel nervous. But excited. I'm looking forward to it, but I'm afraid of making a mistake."
Mike and Tango exchanged a look and even Jo laughed.
"What?" Charlie asked.
"Oh, Charlie!" Tango began in a sing-song voice, "It's my first time. I'm so nervous, but excited. I'm afraid of making a mistake and you'll never sleep with me again!"
"Shut up." Charlie chased after the two of them for a little, but gave up.
They regrouped at the edge of a cliff, a rushing underground waterfall roaring next to them. They lined up and stared at the black pool at the bottom.
"Man, I hate this part," Mike said.
"You can always take the runt path," Kilo pointed to a narrow pathway that curled from where they stood around the edge of the cavern to the pool below.
"We'll only treat you like a runt for a few days. Spoon feeding, changing your drawers for you..." Tango trailed off.
"What'd you say?" Kilo laughed.
"I mean, not really..." Tango said.
Jo was silent, standing with her toes gripping the edge of the cliff, her eyes closed, feeling the updraft of misty air on her face.
"Aw, I hate it when she does this," Mike said.
"You hate everything," said Kilo.
"Give her some space," said Charlie, and they all backed away from her.
Eyes kept closed, Jo slowly raised her arms. When they were level to the ground, she leaned forward just enough to send her over the edge. Her body stayed rigid as she fell and Jo pretended that she was skydiving through the wide blue sky, through bright, cold clouds, the ground stretching out forever around her... Jo learned how to time her dive just right so that she slowly pulled her arms over her head and they made their point just as her rotation through the air brought her head down for perfect submersion.
From above, it seemed like Jo lost her balance, went rigid, and for several agonizing seconds seemed sure to do a bellyflop or break her neck. Everyday they came here after their workout, and everyday they held their breath as she fell.
She slid into the water, speeding deep into the dark water. Jo angled her body up and floated for a moment, completely suspended. Then she gave a strong kick and swam back up. The boys all let their breath go when her head broke the surface.
"You know, it probably wouldn't be so scary if she didn't close her damn eyes," Kilo said.
"No one's asking you to watch," Charlie smiled.
"Come on, you pansies!" Jo shouted.
"Last one in's a scared little runt!" Tango shouted as he ran over the edge. Yelling, he decided at the last moment to do a cannonball, landing on his back. "Ow!"
Charlie and Kilo pushed each other over and managed decent pencil dives. Which left Mike at the top, staring down at them.
"Come on! Shouldn't it be easy by now?" Kilo shouted.
"It's never easy, staring at your own death!" Mike called back.
"You baby!"
Jo and Kilo started splashing each other. Mike couldn't even hear it over the waterfall.
Tango started the chant.
"Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!"
Jo and Kilo stopped splashing to join.
"Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!"
Finally with a terrified yell, Mike jumped into the oblivion.
Thursday, August 07, 2008
My Postapocalyptic Alien story Part I
Josephine Marie Kobler started to drop her guard the closer she came to the caves. Her pace quickened, she shouldered her rifle, and she pulled her hair out of the tight knot she kept it in when she was on duty. Her nightvision goggles adjusted to the inside of the cave, showing her the empty walls.
Fifty feet back, there was a 60 degree turn in the tunnel and a small security camera set into the corner. Jo gave the camera a salute as she passed it. Further on, the tunnel ended in a metal door with protected keypad. After punching the code she pulled the handle out and pushed the door in.
The caverns were dimly lit with halogen ropes hanging along the walls. Jo slid her goggles off and ran her gloved hand through her hair, loosening it while she waited for her eyes to adjust to the dimness.
"Hi, Juliet," a nearby runt said.
"Hi, runt," Jo replied.
"My name's Max," the little boy demanded.
Jo started walking on. "You haven't earned a name yet, runt."
The little boy matched her pace. "Did you see any dragons today?"
"Maybe. Maybe I caught a little one and put it in my pocket as a pet. Maybe I'll feed runts to it until it's nice and big."
The boy giggled. "You wouldn't do that."
"I wouldn't?" Jo arched an eyebrow at the kid, but otherwise kept a stern face.
The boy stopped smiling. Jo turned away and kept walking. She nodded to the Mamas with chores and runts that she passed until she reached a large side cavern.
There were twice as many halogen ropes here as the rest of the cave interior, and there were extra lamps available. Equipment, tools, and computers were piled around the cave like artificial stalamites.
"Travis?" Jo called out.
"Over here."
Jo followed the voice to Travis' main computer console. He had frozen video footage on three screens, text documents on two others, and was listening to an audio on a sixth. He paused the audio and swiveled around to face Jo. Travis had short brown hair stuck which out at all angles, soft brown eyes obscured by the light glare off of his glasses, and his pale skin, light build and loose fitting clothing betrayed his mechanic nature.
"How was sentry duty?" he asked.
"Same old," Jo said, setting down her rifle and goggles.
Travis smiled and turned back to his screens. "You're supposed to check those back in," he reminded her.
Jo pulled off her gloves and tucked them into her belt. "If I keep them with me, I always know where they are. Besides," she said, "you never know when some runt's going to break into the lockers and mess with the guns."
"Always with the runts. They have names you know."
"Not to me. Not til they've proven themselves." Jo grabbed her favorite stool and sat down next to Travis. "Are you still working on the alien footage? You're never going to decipher it."
"Well I'm glad I don't have your attitude."
"Besides, aren't you supposed to be working on the hydro-cars?"
"I worked it out with Mama Bear that I am only required to work on community projects eight hours a day. Same as your sentry shifts. As long as I get my sleep and feed myself, I can use my free time as I wish."
"Yeah, well, I don't get a cushy lunch break like you do. I get a quick ten year old energy bar while looking out for badies."
Travis didn't take the bait but instead pressed a head set to his ear and played a section of the audio, taking notes. Jo hunched her back and swung her legs, watching. Finally she spoke.
"Hey, Trav?"
"Huh?" Trav grunted without taking his eyes off the screen.
Jo fell silent, staring at her hands.
Travis sighed and turned away from the console. When he saw Jo's eyes filling with tears, he softened. "What is it?" he asked quietly, taking her hands.
Jo smiled briefly. "It's just... today I got thinking... about before..." She glanced at Travis and continued. "And then when I got here and I wanted to talk with you..." Jo trailed off and some tears spilt over her cheeks. "Will it ever be normal again?" she asked, her voice cracking.
"What do you mean?" Travis asked.
"You know, living outside and all... I was remembering about living in the suburbs and how if I needed to talk we'd go for a walk outside and we'd go to the cliffs and sit and talk, and then I got back from sentry and you're busy, and I just miss everything so much..."
Travis knew he'd done nothing wrong, but he felt like an ass anyway. "I'm sorry. I was caught up in the tapes. Do you want to go somewhere to talk?"
Jo wiped one of her cheeks and laughed. "Like where? We can't just go outside. And anywhere we go anyone else can go too."
"I've got a good place in mind. It's not perfect, but I'd like to show it to you. Okay?"
"Just a sec." Jo dried her eyes and composed herself. "Okay," she said.
Travis turned off the computer screens and the halogens as they left. After checking the hallway, he led her further into the mountain. The tunnels divided, converged and twisted off into nothing, but Travis never faltered. At one point, the halogen ropes ended and Travis asked to borrow the goggles.
"How do you know so much about the tunnels?" Jo asked as she followed Travis, holding onto the back of his shirt.
"I know the inside of this mountain probably as well as you know the outside," Travis said.
Finally he stopped. "Okay, here's the tricky part. Well, okay, wait. I'll give you back the goggles," he took them off and handed them to Jo, "I can climb without them."
With the goggles on, Jo could see that the tunnel had ended in a vertical shaft which Travis was cautiously climbing. Jo followed behind him. At the top, she asked, "how much further?"
Travis glanced down the tunnel. "It ends a little further, but I was taking you right here," he slapped the rock at the top of the climb, "have a seat."
"What is this place?" Jo asked.
"I think it's an abandoned tunnel project meant to connect back to the surface. Anyway, take the goggles off."
"What?"
"Take 'em off." Travis waited to hear the goggles clink against the rock before speaking. "Remind you of something?"
Jo's smile reflected in her voice. "Oh, sure, lots of things. Mostly unlit caves."
"No. Remember how some cloudy nights we'd stay too long at the cliffs and by the time we realized it, it'd be too pitch dark to find our way home?"
"Yeah, and we'd spend the night out there, scared to death we'd roll off the edge and when we'd get home at dawn we got chewed out by our parents."
"Well, here we are. As close to home as we can get. Now, what's on your mind?"
The next morning, Jo made her way to the soldiers' quarters, eyes red from lack of sleep, and muscles stiff from sleeping on top of a small rock cliff.
"Ho, Juliet," several soldiers greeted her in the locker cave.
"Ho, Charlie, Tango, Mike," she responded. While Jo was not the only female soldier in the community, she was certainly the first, and therefore was given the only female code name in her unit.
Charlie had fast growing blonde hair that was always in his eyes, Tango was a short Asian-American, and Mike was proud of his muscular build and African-American heritage.
"Looks like you didn't get much sleep last night," said Kilo, pulling his curly red hair back under a bandana, "who's the lucky father?"
Jo snorted. "Like I'm going to hang up my gun and retire to the maternity cave."
Mike flexed his arms and torso. "Hey, Julie, next time we make a run into town, let's grab some contraceptives and have a go. How about it?"
Jo threw her bandana at him. He caught it, smelled it, and pretended to swoon.
Charlie leaned against the locker next to Jo's, swept his blonde hair out of his eyes and said, "Give it up, Mike, you know she's only got eyes for Romeo." As Juliet's childhood friend and part time mechanical expert in the unit, Travis was called Romeo, an honorary unit name.
"And you've been listening to too many of Mama Cat's stories," Jo punched Charlie in the arm. He pretended to be hurt and walked back to his locker.
"But honestly, you and Romeo have been together, right?" Kilo asked.
"Nope. Never." Jo said as she changed into her workout clothes.
The boys chortled in disbelief.
"Not even before in high school? You two must have been an item," Tango said.
"How old do you think I am? I never even went to prom."
"Serious?" Mike asked, "How old were you when the bombs dropped?"
"I'm not telling you, muscle-head."
"Oh, man, our baby girl's never even been to prom!" Mike said. "We gotta do something about that."
"Oh, yeah, Mike, we'll get right on forming a planning committee. Should we plan pink and blue streamers, or the classic white?" Charlie said sarcastically.
"Ha, ha. But we gotta at least teach her how to dance." Mike said as he scooped Jo up and threw her over his shoulder. Jo struggled, but Mike held her firm as he started swaying back and forth, humming a waltz to himself.
The other boys laughed until Papa entered the locker cave. They immediately became silent and froze at attention. Mike turned around when the room got quiet. He dropped Jo and stood at attention. Jo stumbled, gained her balance and joined the others.
"Am I interrupting something?" Papa asked in a stern voice.
"No, Papa, sir!" the unit said in unison.
Papa walked the length of the cave, looking at each member and their locker. After he passed Mike and Jo, Mike nudged her with his elbow. Jo hit him back and Tango tried to stifle a laugh. Papa turned around. "Is there something funny, Tango?"
"No, Papa, sir."
Papa returned to the cave entrance and faced them. "Mama Fox has informed me that several of the crates of food we brought back from our last trip were compromised. We are scheduling an early trip into town to restock on food and equipment. Charlie, get a haircut and make sure the entire unit is ready to go at 0500 tomorrow."
"Papa, sir, does that include Romeo?"
"Who, Charlie?"
"The mechanical expert, Papa, sir."
"Yes. That includes the mechanical expert. At ease." Papa exited the cave.
Everyone relaxed. Jo punched Mike. "Don't ever do that again," she hissed.
Mike laughed. "Hey, it's not my fault some crates got food rot."
"Didn't Papa know we gave Travis a name?" Charlie asked.
Tango answered, "Yeah, but you know how Papa feels about civilians."
"Travis doesn't count as a civilian. He works just as hard as we do to keep our community running," Jo argued, "He's the best-"
Kilo interrupted. "Easy, Julie, no one's putting down your boyfriend. Papa just doesn't want to acknowledge his name."
Jo groaned in frustration. "I need to beat something up." She slammed her locker closed and tightened her sneakers.
"How about this, after warm up, you get first dibs on the punching bag," Charlie offered as they made their way into the training cave.
Fifty feet back, there was a 60 degree turn in the tunnel and a small security camera set into the corner. Jo gave the camera a salute as she passed it. Further on, the tunnel ended in a metal door with protected keypad. After punching the code she pulled the handle out and pushed the door in.
The caverns were dimly lit with halogen ropes hanging along the walls. Jo slid her goggles off and ran her gloved hand through her hair, loosening it while she waited for her eyes to adjust to the dimness.
"Hi, Juliet," a nearby runt said.
"Hi, runt," Jo replied.
"My name's Max," the little boy demanded.
Jo started walking on. "You haven't earned a name yet, runt."
The little boy matched her pace. "Did you see any dragons today?"
"Maybe. Maybe I caught a little one and put it in my pocket as a pet. Maybe I'll feed runts to it until it's nice and big."
The boy giggled. "You wouldn't do that."
"I wouldn't?" Jo arched an eyebrow at the kid, but otherwise kept a stern face.
The boy stopped smiling. Jo turned away and kept walking. She nodded to the Mamas with chores and runts that she passed until she reached a large side cavern.
There were twice as many halogen ropes here as the rest of the cave interior, and there were extra lamps available. Equipment, tools, and computers were piled around the cave like artificial stalamites.
"Travis?" Jo called out.
"Over here."
Jo followed the voice to Travis' main computer console. He had frozen video footage on three screens, text documents on two others, and was listening to an audio on a sixth. He paused the audio and swiveled around to face Jo. Travis had short brown hair stuck which out at all angles, soft brown eyes obscured by the light glare off of his glasses, and his pale skin, light build and loose fitting clothing betrayed his mechanic nature.
"How was sentry duty?" he asked.
"Same old," Jo said, setting down her rifle and goggles.
Travis smiled and turned back to his screens. "You're supposed to check those back in," he reminded her.
Jo pulled off her gloves and tucked them into her belt. "If I keep them with me, I always know where they are. Besides," she said, "you never know when some runt's going to break into the lockers and mess with the guns."
"Always with the runts. They have names you know."
"Not to me. Not til they've proven themselves." Jo grabbed her favorite stool and sat down next to Travis. "Are you still working on the alien footage? You're never going to decipher it."
"Well I'm glad I don't have your attitude."
"Besides, aren't you supposed to be working on the hydro-cars?"
"I worked it out with Mama Bear that I am only required to work on community projects eight hours a day. Same as your sentry shifts. As long as I get my sleep and feed myself, I can use my free time as I wish."
"Yeah, well, I don't get a cushy lunch break like you do. I get a quick ten year old energy bar while looking out for badies."
Travis didn't take the bait but instead pressed a head set to his ear and played a section of the audio, taking notes. Jo hunched her back and swung her legs, watching. Finally she spoke.
"Hey, Trav?"
"Huh?" Trav grunted without taking his eyes off the screen.
Jo fell silent, staring at her hands.
Travis sighed and turned away from the console. When he saw Jo's eyes filling with tears, he softened. "What is it?" he asked quietly, taking her hands.
Jo smiled briefly. "It's just... today I got thinking... about before..." She glanced at Travis and continued. "And then when I got here and I wanted to talk with you..." Jo trailed off and some tears spilt over her cheeks. "Will it ever be normal again?" she asked, her voice cracking.
"What do you mean?" Travis asked.
"You know, living outside and all... I was remembering about living in the suburbs and how if I needed to talk we'd go for a walk outside and we'd go to the cliffs and sit and talk, and then I got back from sentry and you're busy, and I just miss everything so much..."
Travis knew he'd done nothing wrong, but he felt like an ass anyway. "I'm sorry. I was caught up in the tapes. Do you want to go somewhere to talk?"
Jo wiped one of her cheeks and laughed. "Like where? We can't just go outside. And anywhere we go anyone else can go too."
"I've got a good place in mind. It's not perfect, but I'd like to show it to you. Okay?"
"Just a sec." Jo dried her eyes and composed herself. "Okay," she said.
Travis turned off the computer screens and the halogens as they left. After checking the hallway, he led her further into the mountain. The tunnels divided, converged and twisted off into nothing, but Travis never faltered. At one point, the halogen ropes ended and Travis asked to borrow the goggles.
"How do you know so much about the tunnels?" Jo asked as she followed Travis, holding onto the back of his shirt.
"I know the inside of this mountain probably as well as you know the outside," Travis said.
Finally he stopped. "Okay, here's the tricky part. Well, okay, wait. I'll give you back the goggles," he took them off and handed them to Jo, "I can climb without them."
With the goggles on, Jo could see that the tunnel had ended in a vertical shaft which Travis was cautiously climbing. Jo followed behind him. At the top, she asked, "how much further?"
Travis glanced down the tunnel. "It ends a little further, but I was taking you right here," he slapped the rock at the top of the climb, "have a seat."
"What is this place?" Jo asked.
"I think it's an abandoned tunnel project meant to connect back to the surface. Anyway, take the goggles off."
"What?"
"Take 'em off." Travis waited to hear the goggles clink against the rock before speaking. "Remind you of something?"
Jo's smile reflected in her voice. "Oh, sure, lots of things. Mostly unlit caves."
"No. Remember how some cloudy nights we'd stay too long at the cliffs and by the time we realized it, it'd be too pitch dark to find our way home?"
"Yeah, and we'd spend the night out there, scared to death we'd roll off the edge and when we'd get home at dawn we got chewed out by our parents."
"Well, here we are. As close to home as we can get. Now, what's on your mind?"
The next morning, Jo made her way to the soldiers' quarters, eyes red from lack of sleep, and muscles stiff from sleeping on top of a small rock cliff.
"Ho, Juliet," several soldiers greeted her in the locker cave.
"Ho, Charlie, Tango, Mike," she responded. While Jo was not the only female soldier in the community, she was certainly the first, and therefore was given the only female code name in her unit.
Charlie had fast growing blonde hair that was always in his eyes, Tango was a short Asian-American, and Mike was proud of his muscular build and African-American heritage.
"Looks like you didn't get much sleep last night," said Kilo, pulling his curly red hair back under a bandana, "who's the lucky father?"
Jo snorted. "Like I'm going to hang up my gun and retire to the maternity cave."
Mike flexed his arms and torso. "Hey, Julie, next time we make a run into town, let's grab some contraceptives and have a go. How about it?"
Jo threw her bandana at him. He caught it, smelled it, and pretended to swoon.
Charlie leaned against the locker next to Jo's, swept his blonde hair out of his eyes and said, "Give it up, Mike, you know she's only got eyes for Romeo." As Juliet's childhood friend and part time mechanical expert in the unit, Travis was called Romeo, an honorary unit name.
"And you've been listening to too many of Mama Cat's stories," Jo punched Charlie in the arm. He pretended to be hurt and walked back to his locker.
"But honestly, you and Romeo have been together, right?" Kilo asked.
"Nope. Never." Jo said as she changed into her workout clothes.
The boys chortled in disbelief.
"Not even before in high school? You two must have been an item," Tango said.
"How old do you think I am? I never even went to prom."
"Serious?" Mike asked, "How old were you when the bombs dropped?"
"I'm not telling you, muscle-head."
"Oh, man, our baby girl's never even been to prom!" Mike said. "We gotta do something about that."
"Oh, yeah, Mike, we'll get right on forming a planning committee. Should we plan pink and blue streamers, or the classic white?" Charlie said sarcastically.
"Ha, ha. But we gotta at least teach her how to dance." Mike said as he scooped Jo up and threw her over his shoulder. Jo struggled, but Mike held her firm as he started swaying back and forth, humming a waltz to himself.
The other boys laughed until Papa entered the locker cave. They immediately became silent and froze at attention. Mike turned around when the room got quiet. He dropped Jo and stood at attention. Jo stumbled, gained her balance and joined the others.
"Am I interrupting something?" Papa asked in a stern voice.
"No, Papa, sir!" the unit said in unison.
Papa walked the length of the cave, looking at each member and their locker. After he passed Mike and Jo, Mike nudged her with his elbow. Jo hit him back and Tango tried to stifle a laugh. Papa turned around. "Is there something funny, Tango?"
"No, Papa, sir."
Papa returned to the cave entrance and faced them. "Mama Fox has informed me that several of the crates of food we brought back from our last trip were compromised. We are scheduling an early trip into town to restock on food and equipment. Charlie, get a haircut and make sure the entire unit is ready to go at 0500 tomorrow."
"Papa, sir, does that include Romeo?"
"Who, Charlie?"
"The mechanical expert, Papa, sir."
"Yes. That includes the mechanical expert. At ease." Papa exited the cave.
Everyone relaxed. Jo punched Mike. "Don't ever do that again," she hissed.
Mike laughed. "Hey, it's not my fault some crates got food rot."
"Didn't Papa know we gave Travis a name?" Charlie asked.
Tango answered, "Yeah, but you know how Papa feels about civilians."
"Travis doesn't count as a civilian. He works just as hard as we do to keep our community running," Jo argued, "He's the best-"
Kilo interrupted. "Easy, Julie, no one's putting down your boyfriend. Papa just doesn't want to acknowledge his name."
Jo groaned in frustration. "I need to beat something up." She slammed her locker closed and tightened her sneakers.
"How about this, after warm up, you get first dibs on the punching bag," Charlie offered as they made their way into the training cave.
Monday, June 09, 2008
I love being in love
Throughout my life, including my earliest memories, I have been in love. From the twin in kindergarten, to the boy with piercing blue eyes in first grade, to the popular boys in junior high and high school, and then the beautiful nerds in college. These do not exclude boys (and men) in movies, novels, and even manga. Life for me has been one seamless transition from one crush to another.
Why do I prefer this existence? My affections have never been reciprocated. The closest I have been to a relationship is harmless flirtation with no expectation of it to be taken seriously on either side.
Actually, honestly, some have liked me. But either they were unlucky enough to not happen to be that week's crush, or I was scared and laughed off their attention. Or I didn't notice. I've been told stories of some that liked me. I couldn't tell, at the time. Or they scared me. Some boys are scary. I can't imagine even dating them, I just start shuddering and feel the need to take a shower because I feel dirty under their gaze.
But back to the nice ones. The ones I didn't notice or I laughed off. Why? Obviously I couldn't help the ones I didn't notice. What was I afraid of, though? I watch romantic movies, and my heart bursts with the desire to exchange those glances with someone who might, actually, feel the same way I do. Am I afraid of finding someone who loves me? Am I afraid of actually exchanging those glances and taking their force fully instead of over the shoulder and through a camera lens? Or am I afraid of the vulnerability of loving someone and not having it returned? I shouldn't. I've loved everyone who's never loved me. I've had my heart broken daily since I was five. And I've embarrassed myself for acting foolishly since I've been old enough to.
But I've never invested in someone who then let me down. Not really. Perhaps that's what I'm afraid of. Because my loves and broken hearts have been private, known only to me and my unfortunate roommates and close friends.
I'm done for now. I'm exhausted.
Why do I prefer this existence? My affections have never been reciprocated. The closest I have been to a relationship is harmless flirtation with no expectation of it to be taken seriously on either side.
Actually, honestly, some have liked me. But either they were unlucky enough to not happen to be that week's crush, or I was scared and laughed off their attention. Or I didn't notice. I've been told stories of some that liked me. I couldn't tell, at the time. Or they scared me. Some boys are scary. I can't imagine even dating them, I just start shuddering and feel the need to take a shower because I feel dirty under their gaze.
But back to the nice ones. The ones I didn't notice or I laughed off. Why? Obviously I couldn't help the ones I didn't notice. What was I afraid of, though? I watch romantic movies, and my heart bursts with the desire to exchange those glances with someone who might, actually, feel the same way I do. Am I afraid of finding someone who loves me? Am I afraid of actually exchanging those glances and taking their force fully instead of over the shoulder and through a camera lens? Or am I afraid of the vulnerability of loving someone and not having it returned? I shouldn't. I've loved everyone who's never loved me. I've had my heart broken daily since I was five. And I've embarrassed myself for acting foolishly since I've been old enough to.
But I've never invested in someone who then let me down. Not really. Perhaps that's what I'm afraid of. Because my loves and broken hearts have been private, known only to me and my unfortunate roommates and close friends.
I'm done for now. I'm exhausted.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
I am the Doppleganger
On the other side of a chain link fence
I can see the woman I want to be
I've looked for the gate
But I don't even know how to start the journey
I gaze between the chains at her
Pure smile, her lovely laughter, her beauty overflows from within
On this side, ther is only a mean, bitter woman
A woman without friends, because she can't keep them
A woman without lovers, because they can see her black soul
A woman without children, because God protects the little ones
Over there, she loves all and is loved by all
Her husband is grateful to wake up with her
And her children are good
What will it take?
I can see the woman I want to be
I've looked for the gate
But I don't even know how to start the journey
I gaze between the chains at her
Pure smile, her lovely laughter, her beauty overflows from within
On this side, ther is only a mean, bitter woman
A woman without friends, because she can't keep them
A woman without lovers, because they can see her black soul
A woman without children, because God protects the little ones
Over there, she loves all and is loved by all
Her husband is grateful to wake up with her
And her children are good
What will it take?
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Random bits and pieces
Autumn is one big audition.
Each leaf falls like a ballerina
Twisting and twirling in her first (and only) solo.
Life is ugly, squirming, and messy
...and then the clouds burst into flame...
Why is dog man's best friend? What do they have that I don't?
"Alea Jacta Est" -Caesar
Each leaf falls like a ballerina
Twisting and twirling in her first (and only) solo.
Life is ugly, squirming, and messy
...and then the clouds burst into flame...
Why is dog man's best friend? What do they have that I don't?
"Alea Jacta Est" -Caesar
To my Boobs
To those fraternal twins peeking over my shirt.
To those two water balloons under my skin.
Bouncing gently with every step.
Boost you up,
Squish you down,
Still there you are undaunted.
My orbs of seduction.
My shy, modest orbs of seduction.
To those two water balloons under my skin.
Bouncing gently with every step.
Boost you up,
Squish you down,
Still there you are undaunted.
My orbs of seduction.
My shy, modest orbs of seduction.
Just Me
Once I wanted to be skinny
Once I wanted to be blonde
Once I wanted bright blue eyes
Once I wanted an elven face
Once I wanted 36-24-28
Once I wanted to be slight and short
Once I wanted perfect skin, perfect hair, and expensive clothes.
Once I wanted to be tan.
Then one day, not so long ago, my mother flipped my world.
"White is beautiful, too."
Now I love my blue white skin
Now I love my freckles, my curls, and my stains
Now I love looking you in the eye
Now I love my 38-32-44
Now I love my jowls
Now I love my hazel eyes
Now I love my dun colored hair
Now I love my muffin top
Now I love me.
Once I wanted to be blonde
Once I wanted bright blue eyes
Once I wanted an elven face
Once I wanted 36-24-28
Once I wanted to be slight and short
Once I wanted perfect skin, perfect hair, and expensive clothes.
Once I wanted to be tan.
Then one day, not so long ago, my mother flipped my world.
"White is beautiful, too."
Now I love my blue white skin
Now I love my freckles, my curls, and my stains
Now I love looking you in the eye
Now I love my 38-32-44
Now I love my jowls
Now I love my hazel eyes
Now I love my dun colored hair
Now I love my muffin top
Now I love me.
While noticing unfamiliar toothmarks on a favorite pen
Staring at the teeth marks on the cap of my pen, I wonder whose they are.
They aren't mine. I don't have that habit.
Where have you been, little pen?
Did some fourth grader gnaw her frustrations on you while she took a test?
Did some foreign poet nibble on you while he composed a sonnet to his love?
Did some senator chew absentmindedly on you while wondering if he had time to run to the bathroom?
Or did some forgetful college student drop you on the floor and her dog took an inquisitive bite or two? I need to take better care of my pens.
They aren't mine. I don't have that habit.
Where have you been, little pen?
Did some fourth grader gnaw her frustrations on you while she took a test?
Did some foreign poet nibble on you while he composed a sonnet to his love?
Did some senator chew absentmindedly on you while wondering if he had time to run to the bathroom?
Or did some forgetful college student drop you on the floor and her dog took an inquisitive bite or two? I need to take better care of my pens.
Love Thyself
Because today, the only mail I got was bills,
And the only chocolate I ate was mine,
And the words of endearment I heard came from the TV.
Because tomorrow is the same as yesterday,
and I am unchanging.
Still afraid to smile because I have chocolate clinging to my teeth.
And the only chocolate I ate was mine,
And the words of endearment I heard came from the TV.
Because tomorrow is the same as yesterday,
and I am unchanging.
Still afraid to smile because I have chocolate clinging to my teeth.
To all the happy squirrels
Before Grover flies across the screen in his red cape
Before King Friday gives his newest proclamation
There is a hippie with a pallette.
His calm, soothing, gentle voice teaches me the difference between burnt umber and sienna before I can spell "yellow".
I watch him take a blank canvas and dextriously create a beautiful forest with a puddly path.
As his knife puts a shine on the water, I stomp in the puddles.
As he adds branches to his pines, together we imagine a happy squirrel bounding home, his cheeks full.
And as he dries his brushes by "beating the devil out of them," I giggle.
During that quiet, still half hour in the living room, I am completely immersed in his magic
Watching him create a world just for me.
-in memory of Bob Ross
Before King Friday gives his newest proclamation
There is a hippie with a pallette.
His calm, soothing, gentle voice teaches me the difference between burnt umber and sienna before I can spell "yellow".
I watch him take a blank canvas and dextriously create a beautiful forest with a puddly path.
As his knife puts a shine on the water, I stomp in the puddles.
As he adds branches to his pines, together we imagine a happy squirrel bounding home, his cheeks full.
And as he dries his brushes by "beating the devil out of them," I giggle.
During that quiet, still half hour in the living room, I am completely immersed in his magic
Watching him create a world just for me.
-in memory of Bob Ross
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Superstitions and magic
I wonder if we're ignoring a part of existence because of our scientific understandings and our cultural reliance on the "logical" and "observable". All religions have ghosts. Some even demons. Those cultures that retain their superstitions as they become Christian... are they the purer? By combining the Truth with their lives?
What if demons can't stand the sign of the cross, even when made by fingers? What if witches do have power over us if they attain our DNA? What if the veil between the living and the dead is thinner than we thought? Why does voodoo work? Is it wrong to acknowledge the power of evil? Is it wrong to ignore the power of good? What if there is more truth in some superstitions than we realize? What if prayer is sometimes not enough?
What if demons can't stand the sign of the cross, even when made by fingers? What if witches do have power over us if they attain our DNA? What if the veil between the living and the dead is thinner than we thought? Why does voodoo work? Is it wrong to acknowledge the power of evil? Is it wrong to ignore the power of good? What if there is more truth in some superstitions than we realize? What if prayer is sometimes not enough?
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
1.30.08 Poetry
I hold my heart cupped and covered in my hands.
I offer it to you secretly, wholy,
I am holding your heart,
Take it from me.
Set it free from my ten barred cage.
But you don't see it.
You see only my hands
And my closed, secure visage.
What mischief do you imagine between my palms?
Something ugly or poisonous?
You give me a knowing smile
And walk away.
And my heart dies imprisoned.
My love is like a Valentine's card.
You enjoy it for a moment,
And in the morning,
I find it in the trash.
I offer it to you secretly, wholy,
I am holding your heart,
Take it from me.
Set it free from my ten barred cage.
But you don't see it.
You see only my hands
And my closed, secure visage.
What mischief do you imagine between my palms?
Something ugly or poisonous?
You give me a knowing smile
And walk away.
And my heart dies imprisoned.
My love is like a Valentine's card.
You enjoy it for a moment,
And in the morning,
I find it in the trash.
First Rant of '08! 1.30.08
I had a thought today. They sometimes happen. I was unprepared for a presentation today, and I stayed up all night throwing it together. I've learned how to give excellent presentations, and I've had roommates who were meticulous and wouldn't be satisfied with me practicing a few times with many flaws and calling it a night. So last night, and this morning, I knew I wasn't giving my all into this presentation. I also knew that from the professor's point of view, the presentation would be average, and I would get a decent grade for my performance.
I didn't have my introduction or my conclusion memorized, my information was listed mostly by dates so most sentences began with, "In 1457...", my handout was a full page single spaced (which is just too much to ask people to sort through), my inflection swung between being too high and being too low and soft, and I practically read all my information, with occasional, unnerving glances into the bored populace.
I knew what needed to happen to make this presentation amazing, and for one reason or another, I didn't do it. It doesn't matter that I got it over with, take my B grade back to my seat and let the teacher try to wake the class back up, I knew what I should have done. Because that's the way I've been trained.
There's a verse in the Bible that tells parents to train their children in the way they are supposed to go, so that the children will do it automatically when they grow up. But we're adults now. And it doesn't matter whether our parents trained us well or poorly, we are responsible for ourselves. Train yourself in the way you need to go, and when the time comes, regardless of other's standards, you will know what you're supposed to do. Whether you do it or not when the time comes, is up to you.
I didn't have my introduction or my conclusion memorized, my information was listed mostly by dates so most sentences began with, "In 1457...", my handout was a full page single spaced (which is just too much to ask people to sort through), my inflection swung between being too high and being too low and soft, and I practically read all my information, with occasional, unnerving glances into the bored populace.
I knew what needed to happen to make this presentation amazing, and for one reason or another, I didn't do it. It doesn't matter that I got it over with, take my B grade back to my seat and let the teacher try to wake the class back up, I knew what I should have done. Because that's the way I've been trained.
There's a verse in the Bible that tells parents to train their children in the way they are supposed to go, so that the children will do it automatically when they grow up. But we're adults now. And it doesn't matter whether our parents trained us well or poorly, we are responsible for ourselves. Train yourself in the way you need to go, and when the time comes, regardless of other's standards, you will know what you're supposed to do. Whether you do it or not when the time comes, is up to you.
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