Stream of Consciousness Sunday: I Want the View!

I had no idea until five minutes ago that I would be participating in Jana’s Sunday Stream of Consciousness (five minutes of writing, unedited, published wherever the heck you want). And this is her optional prompt:

What have you fallen out of the habit of doing (or not doing)?

This is an easy one. Unfortunately.

I have fallen off the “writing” wagon.

It happened somewhere around February, I think. I have reasons. Several of them. Some will say one of them is lame. It probably is and I’m sorry about that but I can’t help it. 

I’m lacking motivation, maybe inspiration, possibly desire. Not sure yet.

I understand that writing takes practice and I’m out of practice and each day this continues my desire wanes. Almost to the point that I’m no longer caring.

Who am I kidding? Words have been elusive.

I am also trying to wean myself too. From the computer. From a chair in a study that faces in the complete opposite direction as a window with a lovely view.

I want the view!

I want to say “yes” every time someone I like asks me to spend time with them. I want to pick up every time my cell phone rings (okay, I will continue to screen my calls but I will be more available because only friends have that number) and talk to the person on the other end that was thinking of me enough to call. I want to call the person that I was just about to text (I’ve actually been doing this much more in the last few months.) I want to be present in moments without thinking first that those moments might make great stories to write about the following day.

Maybe I just don’t manage my time well enough but…

I want the view!

Trifextra: For the Love of Honey

Straddling his hips, she held the honey filled bear overhead laughing.

“You don’t have the nerve!” he challenged underneath.

Making a heart of golden drops, she slowly licked each one off his stomach.

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This weekend’s Trifextra Challenge is exactly 33 words, 30 of our own and three of the following:

topple     paradigm     underneath     

nerve     honey     loop

Trifextra: Love at First Tear

(First)

Plop…Plop-Plop…Plop

Salty spills splash steadily

(Then)

Flutter, thump-thump, kerplunk

Fallen fresh and fast

(Lastly)

Binding closes on tear-warped pages.

Never sadder. Never happier.

More satisfied, more exhilarated, more awakened

Than before.

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Inspired by The Perks of Being a Wallflower.

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This weekend Trifecta's challenge is to give 33 words (exactly) that include among them at least one example of onomatopoeia.

Yeah Write: My Body Was a College Final

With her Cheshire cat smile already fixed and gray eyes sparkling in the way that always makes it hard for me to say “no”, my girlfriend announced,

“Finding a body for the semester final would sure score me some brownie points.”

Apparently, it’s tough competition for a spot in the Ultrasound program at our community college.

“Which body parts?” I asked anticipating the worst.

“Just your aorta, gallbladder and kidney.”

“That doesn’t sound awful. What is the proper attire for being the "final"?”

“Something comfortable. A shirt you can lift; pants you can roll down.”

I’m not modest and can generally pull off the whole confidence thing with a “Oh I’m not worried about it.” or “No problem, I’ll do it”. I never anticipated being as nervous as I was. And driving to the final I thought, “Why didn't you call on that poster at school all those years ago when the Art Department needed ‘models’?”

Arriving College of DuPage at 10:45 a.m., I was crabby (no coffee), hungry (never helps) and required to pass an organ scan by the instructors. They gave me the low down while applying cold goop to my midsection.

“Just lie there. Do what they say; they should know what to do.”

Honestly, I had butterflies but mine were no match for the apprehension with which these students approached me.

“Hi, my name is Autumn and I'll be your Ultrasound Tech today.”

Some seemed terrified, others were visibly shaking and not one exuded confidence. Their nervousness was palpable.

“Scan down the patient’s midsection transverse to the umbilicus and then to the patient’s right side. Lock on the kidney.”

And as one young man glided the probe down my middle, he headed to his right, not mine. I inconspicuously lifted my left hip rolling slightly to my right and cleared my throat. He quickly changed course. There was no way I was letting this poor, frightened boy fail if I had a say.

Some passed, others failed portions.

Some found my gallbladder (which is just below your ribcage on the right) while others locked on gas bubbles in my colon.

There were ten students in all. I knew their fate the moment they left the classroom. After cleaning off, I walked out into the hall and sensed true panic.

“We’ve got to get a “B” to be accepted.”

"I don't think I passed."

“If I don’t get into the program, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

I guess I hadn’t realized the direness of some situations. That this might be the end of the line; a true last chance before the reality of minimum wage set in. When a four-year college didn’t work out as planned, a single parent needed more than what a technical or beauty school education provided or two women (my age) needed careers later in life to support themselves.

These were real concerns, life issues, not who’d seen my belly, the bruises on my ribs from applying too much pressure or what I’d eat for lunch.

I remember the days when finals were over. It meant summertime, being carefree with “the world is my oyster” mentality.

This wasn’t that.

And I was extremely thankful I wasn’t in their shoes.

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It's been far too long since I've hung out with my pals over at Yeah Write. You know, that thing called life beckoned. Click on the badge below and check out the awesome friends I have over there. Been missin' you all!

SOCS: Dealing, My Way (With Anybody and Anything)

Wow! It’s been a long time. My fingers haven’t typed at this keyboard, sitting in my study, in weeks. I have no concrete reason or excuse except to admit I haven’t “felt” like it.

But it is Sunday and Sundays are my second favorite day of the week and in celebration of this fact and to put something down on paper before I bask in the very first day it has felt like Springtime in Chicago, Jana offered up a stream of consciousness (five minutes to type then immediately press “publish”) prompt of:

Dealing (with anything and anybody)

Oh BOY, has this changed over the years.

I remember being a young, gainfully employed adult, then young mother, and trying to control absolutely everything I came in contact with and I mean EVERYTHING. I thought if I did, I could determine (okay, force) a suitable outcome, which definitely translated into the one I wanted. It worked about 50% of the time (most likely with the same probability as accompanied by my extraordinary measures). The interesting thing about this approach is that I was almost always 100% stressed out. With worry. With pending disappointment.  With exhaustion.

A quick decision maker by nature, and very impulsive, I make mistakes continually throughout any given day. I am the first person to admit I’m incredibly and undeniably imperfect. I feel a certain amount weight lifted being able to acknowledge this.

But thinking about my approach to dealing this morning and being a gazillion years older than that young, naïve mother, I realize that control is almost one of the very last things I desire or need. In fact, I almost hate the feeling I get from forcing something. And who wants something you have to "force" anyway (and there is a difference between making something happen by working for it and using force to produce it especially against another's will, in my opinion).

I find much more peace from sleeping on things (decisions and issues!!!), reducing my expectations of others AND going easier on myself. I am the only person I can control. Maybe not my scattered thoughts so much but how I react or act on them.

I can’t control, nor would I want to, anyone else. Because I never want to make anyone do anything that they don’t want in their own heart.

Be YOU! Let me be ME! If we like each other, YEA!!!

It sounds so hands off but it makes it easier for me to close my eyes at night (who am I kidding; I never sleep anyway).

Trifecta: The Burn of Impatience

My tongue touched it registering its first flavor.

The taste sensation sent me into a state of ecstasy. A knowing anticipation of what was to come. Eyes glazed over.

Next my teeth perforated a taut exterior anxiously chasing the soft, velvety, lusciousness of its heart. A lover full of lust. As if it had been far too long.

First

Butter

Then

Crispness

Then

Cheese

An errant drop of core hit my bottom lip as I pulled away. My entire mouth began to scald. Fanning provided no relief; the roof of my mouth already burned by a film of hot Velveeta.

My tongue swept across its delicate surface today, recalling the perfect first bite of a grilled cheese sandwich; a reminder of the pleasure/pain sensation of my passionate impatience.

It’s always the one you take before it hits the plate. 

The first half didn't even make the paper plate!

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33-333 words for the third definition of:

ECSTASY (noun)

1

a : a state of being beyond reason and self-control

b archaic : swoon

2

: a state of overwhelming emotion; especially : rapturous delight

3

: trance; especially : a mystic or prophetic trance

Trifextra: You Can't Go Back

Trifecta gave us three words:

Charge, Century, Lost

We are to add 33 additional words. And here are mine.

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“Let’s go back.”

“A century?”

“No...”

“When then?”

“When we felt in charge of time yet to come. When we had a grip. When we didn’t feel so lost.”

“You think then was better?”

“Yes. Then.”