SOC: Who Starts a Conversation with...

Sunday means streaming…stream of consciousness (thank Jana here)…so that’s exactly what I will do for this 11^th day of NaBloPoMo (it's actually getting a little easier to type as the days wind on).

My plan for these five minutes of unedited writing is just to wing it because I had a weird (I always seem to have some sort of weird) conversation starter this weekend that I thought was sharable. Something I would never say.

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I just returned from a girls’ weekend at the lake. It was lovely getting to know a few women I hardly know. Two I know fairly well (including the hostess) and one I know extremely well. I like to sleep in my own bed, just do, so I didn’t stay there.

Since I had to drive home at night, I was not imbibing :-(, which was fine because it gave me the opportunity to observe, ask questions and listen. Right up my alley!

One of the ladies that falls into the “sort of know” category has a son who spent his first full-time summer at the lake. Most laker kids, or “water rats”, have spent all their summers in rural Indiana. It’s a pretty tight group who has known each other since birth. Almost like cousins. There are probably 13 of them.

This kid (my friend’s son), I don’t know well which is saying something because most kids run through my house once a day at least. He is trouble, been arrested several times, etc. and from the time my son was young I counseled him to keep his distance (Matt doesn’t need any assistance in that regard, who does?).

That’s the background.

So this woman sits down next to me with her 3^rd or 4^th glass of wine in hand and says…”my son (not using name) came home at the beginning of the summer and said, “Matt F (that’s my guy) is a dick (her word).”

I said, “oh, really. Why’s that?”

Then I just sat back and let her talk wondering where theconversation was headed. I knew she’d eventually either stick her foot in her mouth and/or dig herself a giant hole.

It took only 3 minutes of patience to get my answer.

Who starts a conversation with someone like that?

Over Staying Your Welcome

My childhood best friend came to visit us at the lake with her husband and daughter. And they should not have come.

Their marriage was in shambles and we were certain they’d cancel. However, they thought spending time with a couple in a happy and healthy marriage would guide them through this extremely rough patch. Lucky us, right?

My guy, gone for one night due to work obligations, left the entertainment of Al to his best friend who happened to be having a “guys only” vacation. And the guys wanted to go to “Stimilators” (yes, spelled this way and a strip club).

Refusing to heed a stern warning from his wife, her hubby went “along for the ride” proceeding to get really loaded. At 1:30 a.m., a terrible altercation ensued, as did a black eye. If I’d been awake, his A#@ would have been thrown in jail.

Waking up the next morning, confused and still drunk, he searched for his phone in a total state of panic. Not finding it, we insisted he retrace every step of his night including “Stimies”. Dragging my guy, who wasn’t even involved, EVERYWHERE in desperate hot pursuit. They were gone for hours.

What was on that phone besides important phone numbers?

His wife, not trusting him with good reason, snagged it while he was passed out and proceeded to look through EVERYTHING. Never mentioning a word as he tore the place apart looking.

I felt terrible for her.

Sitting at the end of the pier with his phone resting on the table between us, neither of us talking just staring out at water. And thinking.

Without so much as a single word, she picked up his phone, took a running leap and chucked that baby into the water as far as she could. I’d say about 20 yards, 6 feet deep.

When they got back with no phone, she and I looked at each other. All I said was, “You should call it. Maybe someone will answer.”

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Author’s Note: So my guy was kind of pissed at me when he found out she had the phone the whole time and I knew it but let him go on a wild goose chase for hours. The phone is still out there somewhere!

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Trifecta Writing Challenge

This weekend's prompt is borrowed from Benjamin Franklin, who once said, "Guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days."  We want you to tell us a story about a guest, invited or otherwise, who begins to smell, metaphorically or otherwise, after three days.

Cheers To Being Lucky; One Out of One Hundred

I wasn’t going to write about this.

Then I was and then I wasn’t.

Today, I am. It’s been two weeks.

And I don’t know why I’m crying but I am. It’s silly really; the crying, because I’m okay and I will be okay. I guess I was scared. Scared that it happened and, now, scared to be writing about it. I have no idea why.

I didn’t want anyone to know at first but news travels fast. I thought it was too personal; too personal for me to share about myself, on my blog. That’s me being stupid. God, I dislike that word (my kids used to think it was the other “S” swear after shut up; both words weren’t allowed in our house).

I write about all sorts of silly nonsense that affects me. Why wouldn’t I write about this too?

So two weeks ago today I dove into the lake. I dove right off the end of the pier like I always have for the last 26 years, in exactly the same way.

However, there WAS a difference; a big difference. And I knew it. I knew it consciously, for sure, but it obviously didn’t register subconsciously at the particular moment of my dive after a long run on a very hot afternoon. Due to severe lack of rain, the lake level was down 2 feet (now even more).

When the typical depth at pier’s end is 5 ½ feet but now 3 ½ feet (or less), you encounter a problem when you dive in. Let’s just say that your head meets the ground at a faster rate than you could ever expect (velocity in Physics).

I broke my neck, three cervical vertebrae (one shattered, two fractured), and tore all it’s ligaments. Two surgeries and a week in ICU gave me plenty of time to reflect. I didn’t encounter a doctor, nurse or a single person that didn’t remind me how very lucky I was. My neurosurgeon mentioned, as he kept wiggling my toes, that out of 100 people with my injuries, 99 end up paralyzed in some form or fashion but most often quadriplegic. Well, that caught my attention real quick.

I’m on the mend, returning to a sense of normalcy (with lots of pharmaceutical help), but slowly it goes. I can’t do much but sit around. My fingers work; I thank God for that, as does my mind. I just haven’t felt like doing a lot until last night when my mind’s fire was stoked with red glowing ember and my fingers sprouted wings to fly. The old me returning? I hope so!

To say I’m looking at life through different glasses these last two weeks is an understatement. I’m changed. The people around me are too. Life is fragile as is its quality.

I’m living my life for today. Being in the present. Worrying about tomorrow when it gets here because there’s enough going on in my life today. I won’t put off the things I’ve been longing to do if I can help it. I must say the things I’ve wanted to say to all those around me but mostly to those important to me.  I’ll keep striving for genuine and sincere. Continue looking for the simple things, because they often make me the happiest.

I just might not have the opportunity tomorrow. Or even one moment from now. This I’ve learned.

Just Write

Oh, Oh. She's In!

Since lake time is just around the corner and Dumpster Diving is still fresh in my mind.  Below is another fairly recent tale from the “Lake House” archives.

This story is told by me; then Scott; then our great friend, Jack.

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Carefully stepping on the boat’s back, 

I’m balanced perfectly. 

Hair, makeup, sundress, shades…check.

Stunned? Shocked? In the water? Really?!

"Jack! WHY did you gas the throttle?"

Pissed? Nahhhh.

Do over.

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“You look nice, Honey! Hop on”

“Jack, careful pulling away and watch that other boat. Okay, you’re pretty close. Give it some idle.”

“Oh, Oh!!! SHE’S IN.” 

“Best if we go back home.”

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“Scott, you do it. There’re too many boats around.”

“Give it gas? How much?”

“I guess that was a little too much! Gina, Soooooo Sorry!”

“Thank God you didn’t lose your Ray Bans.”

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Your task, should you choose to accept, is to take a scene that involves (or affects) at least three people. You should then write this scene from the point of view of three of the characters, using 33 words for each character.

Trifecta Writing Challenge