100 Word Challenge: "Let's Get Crazy"

I had this boyfriend whose last name had seven consonants. During the day we’d sell engagement rings, gold chains and watches at the mall. At night we danced. “Let’s Go Crazy” was topping the Billboard. We took those Prince words literally.

Once, in a deserted club lot, we got caught twice by the same cop on top of each other (Kissing!) in the passenger seat. Flashing a glaring light in the window he yelled, “Move it!”

These were messy times. I didn’t know what I wanted, or who. But what I remember mostly was he loved to brush my hair.

***********************

Using the word  "Job" as inspiration for a 100 word piece. We could use the word, or it can be implied. Thanks for the prompt, Tara (Thin Spiral Notebook)! It is always fun to participate in your 100 Word Challenge!

Yeah Write Garbleblaster: Say Something, Anything

research.fuseink.com

Pink netted tutus,

Prom dresses, 

and sneaky boyfriends

passed before her.

School Halloween parties,

track meets,

and blatantly blown curfews

became invisible memories.

Statuesquely she sat in the same chair,

never moving, looking up, or uttering 

anything

except

“Darling, fill my wine.”

Falling In Love Via The Airwaves

Typical Sundays for me happily include a complete reading of the “big” paper. And in the “big” paper today, there were two pages dedicated to the most anticipated movies for this holiday season including snippets of what they were about and who stars.

There was also an article interviewing Scarlett Johansson (who is not a favorite of mine) about her voice-only role in the movie "Her" (also staring Joaquin Phoenix and Amy Adams (who I do love)).

It’s about a man who falls in love with his newly purchased OS that is meant to meet his every need. Essentially he falls in love with a voice.

The concept of the movie was so interesting to me that I immediately searched for the trailer. I liked it very much. In fact, my eyes welled up. Then again, I cry much too easily and just about anything touching releases the flood gates (I’m not entirely sure if that’s a good or bad thing) so maybe I’m not an accurate barometer of such tender topics like love stories.

But it got me thinking. Could I, or anyone, actually fall in love with someone purely by their voice? Over the phone. Just by their words. Never seeing them in person.

Looking at it another way, could I, or anyone, fall in love with someone purely through emails? Black letters on a white screen.

Can they be considered viable lovers?

There is certainly the possibly of being more vulnerable. In this technological state, we’re liberated from any kind of judgment that other people might place on our appearance.

It's not as scary to say things (we'd say things we might well not in person), display certain emotions, through a DSL hookup. A little scarier over a telephone wire as there’s the “real time” element to it. But it’s downright frightening more often than not in person.

Hmmm. Then there’s the visual and physical elements. They’re missing, obviously. Biologically, we are made to see and touch (I’ll leave smell and taste out of it for today). We are visually stimulated by other human beings, also by animals, art, etc. We are warm and soft to the fingertips and lips. We crave these things, don’t we? I do.

And if we knew what the "other" person looked like but the interaction was still only through technology, would that change how we felt about them? 

Well, I certainly don’t have any answers. I was just thinking out loud.

Dear Man of My Dreams

So these are the prompts this week at Mama’s Losing It. The Prompts:

1.) What are you reading?
 The Sense of An Ending by Julian Barnes. It just came in the mail today and it’s like having something shiny and new to play with.

2.) Dear Men, (an open letter…offer a word of advice, an issue you’d like to address, or a solution to a problem for the opposite sex).


3.) Show us your kitchen!
 I love my kitchen but, right now, it is not picture worthy. Too much crap lying around and I don’t feel like cleaning up at the moment.

4.) Tell us about a time you were grounded…what did you do? I got grounded pretty often for a while. And when I got grounded, I used to do things like pierce another ear hole or something similar which became the cause for a subsequent grounding.

5.) What made you laugh this week? I didn’t have a funny week. At. All.

Now come on. With this opportunity, what would you choose? I mean really. It’s like an open invitation to get a little somethin’, somethin’ off our chests.

Well, I’m in. You don’t have to ask twice. It’s a general letter of course and not directly pertaining to anyone I know in my actual and very real life.

Dear Man of My Dreams (hereafter known as MMD),

I’ve been a life partner with a member of the opposite sex for almost half my total years on this planet. That’s a darn long time. And I truly believe we are both highly trained professionals when it comes to this marriage thingy. And we both make mistakes. And both aren’t perfect. And we both try hard to be kind. You’d agree, wouldn’t you? Okay, no need to answer.

 So I’ll say something to you, MMD, like this:

“I need to talk to you about something. It doesn’t have anything to do with you. I just need you to hear me. Understand or at least try to understand. I’m not asking you to agree with me but if you did, that would be awesome. You don’t need to fix this or provide excuses or reasons for the target of my venting.

Can I have a full on rant? I desperately need one to get this completely out of my system so I can move on. Would you be willing to do that?”

And then you, MMD, say something like this:

“Honey, of course. I'm all ears. Rant away.”

I promise it will be short-ish and not directed at you. I’m sure it will include maybe an explicative or five ;-).

And then it would be great if you, MMD, then said,

“Feel better, honey? Here, let me give you a hug.”

And that would be it! Easy schmeasy!!!

That wasn't so bad, was it?

Signed,

Your Ever Loving Wife

A Lifelong Love Affair

Sneaking a peek through the window of our sorority house at 3 a.m., you’d have seen a girl, me, absentmindedly licking her spoon. A jar of Skippy permanently “markered” with Gina prominently sat at my side.

With Skippy as my loyal companion most nights, I’d be deep in thought with a pencil in my right hand scrawling a Marketing Proposal or a short story for a creative writing class. Double dipping mindlessly with my left.

It had been my style for years; the way I wrote best. Always during the stillness of night while 60 other girls slept. Usually cramming because I procrastinated more than a little.

As the earliest risers drifted in for breakfast, I’d be putting the final touches on papers. Maggie, my best friend, would sit for a moment, grab my spoon and dig into to her competition completely grossing everyone out.

After graduation, Skippy and I job-hopped for a few years trying to find the happiest fit. Settling on a traveling sales job, Skippy held down the fort at the office, spoon resting by "his" side, while I flew from city to city selling my wares.

While I was away, “he” had plenty of time to ponder my fascination with him. “It’s like she's obsessed.”, he’d think. “She digs in mostly when she’s stressed saying my silky smoothness calmed her.”

It was true, I was obsessed and I loved “his” taste often licking my lips in delight! Anyone close by could hear an audible, “Mmmmmmmmm!!!” from my office.

“He” gave me energy to keep up the frantic pace required to write a million RFP’s (Request For Proposals), it seemed. Typing on a word processor instead of writing by hand this time around. Spoon still dangling from my mouth as my fingers crazily worked the keyboard.

Co-workers expressed the need to know, “What’s with you and that jar?” I'd respond, “It’s how I think. It’s a multi-sensory thing.” It was the only thing I could think of that sounded halfway reasonable or intelligent.

I still think best this way and still loyal to my one and only Skippy. Though I’d be remiss if I failed to admit I cheated on him once. With Jif. But that was a long time ago and very short-lived. It just wasn’t the same.

If you were a “Peeping Tom” today, looking into my study, you’d see us both sitting at the desk right in front of the computer. Spoon clenched in my left hand, overloaded with peanut butter, my eyes gazing into space searching for my inspiration to write.

And in case of emergencies, there’s always a backup jar in my pantry.

And everyone in the family knows to stay away from my Skippy especially because I still double dip.

It All Started With A Note...

On the kitchen counter asking her, “Please remember to go to the bank.” When had she forgotten to do anything?

Her frustration goes back quite a ways but not so far that she’s forgotten how happy she was not too long ago. She didn’t feel trapped by her life but devoid of choices. She only made those best for everyone. Everyone else.

Standing before him requesting a $10,000 cashier’s check, the teller failed to ask for identification. They knew her but usually did anyway. Instead of scolding the young man, she filed the information away.

Accompanying him to their security deposit box for the deed to the house, she grabbed it and her passport.

From that point forward, the decision had been made, in her mind. And a very short time spent on the phone determined which flight and when.

A word was never said to anyone (not true, except to her) although she had mentioned it in passing to him just one time before. She’d leave a note saying “Please don’t worry”.

A small bag was all she needed to grab when the taxi pulled into the driveway. It was the beginning of “her” life again for as short as that would be.

Pulling up curbside to the International Terminal, she sat frozen for what seemed like an hour until “Joe” startled her saying, “Mrs. F.?”

Next thing she really recalled was the family sitting down for dinner at 6:00 just as they always did. The only evidence, of anything, was her ripped up note deep in the bottom of a trashcan in the garage.

Calling her at dusk after the dishes, “Meet me in the street.” Where they always did.

The first words out of her friend’s mouth were, “You couldn’t do it.”

“Come with me.", she said.

“Where?”

“Paris.”

“I hate Paris.”

“Spain. But on the water.”

“Spain is perfect.”

Ten days later, they were sipping Rojo at a table in the Barri Gotic district of Barcelona.

Comfortably silent, happy, alone in their thoughts.

Friends With Kids: Loved It!

I don’t have a TV to myself often enough.

It’s always a compromise with what to watch and with whom. I like just about all movies so I’m usually the first to cave and agree to my second, third or fourth choice.

But guess what?

This morning, unable to sleep, and tip toeing downstairs so as not to stir anyone else, I found nirvana! It was all mine, the television and “On Demand”.

Maybe I planned this ahead…like yesterday. I already knew what my choice would be.

I’ve wanted to see Friends With Kids* for so very many reasons but primarily for the amazing cast. There are truly some of my favorite, funny, and smart actors in this one.

The biggest hooks for me were Jennifer Westfeldt (remember the movie Kissing Jessica Stein? LOVED IT!) and Kristen Wigg (who I have a significant girl crush on because of a lot of things but mostly her impeccable comedic timing and perfect, straight-faced delivery. I really do!). The genius is Westfeldt who wrote, directed, produced and starred here.

But then there’s the gorgeous and always naughty Jon Hamm (her real life partner), plus Maya Rudolph (always hysterical), Adam Scott (Parks and Recreations), Chris O’Dowd (Wigg’s love interest in Bridesmaids) and a smallish roll by Edward Burns (who I also love and crush on).

The idea behind the movie is “Jennifer Westfeldt and Jon Hamm, an unmarried, child-free couple for 15 years, noticed something about their friends with kids: These harried parents were becoming strangers and disappearing from their lives. A light bulb went off. Why not produce a movie on the topic?” (Read more: http://www.rollingstone.com/movies/reviews/friends-with-kids-20120308#ixzz22atpbvew)

So the story goes...Westfeldt's and Scott's characters are BFFs from college who live in Manhattan (love movies set there). They watch with amazement and some distaste as their close-knit group of friends first get married (and still hot for each other) then transition into parents with young children. YIKES!

They are bound and determined never to be like their friends, live like their friends or have their romantic (or not) relationships even remotely resemble their friends'.

But they both want a baby, so they hatch a plan. They will be platonic best friends who have a baby, splitting all responsibility down the middle, leaving each to have their own lives and romantic adventures on the side. And they are convinced it will work. How they go about getting to that point is funny.

As you can imagine, the wheels fall off some of the relationships. Those romantic and friendly both take a hit.

Rolling Stone magazine struck the nail on the head when saying this movie has “a real sting in its tail. The laughs leave scars.” That’s the uncomfortable part especially considering that many of them are comedic actors. Therefore, it was a little unexpected to me. I didn't know a ton about the movie going into it either; just a strong desire to see it.

Of course, I cried a few times but I always do. Laughed a ton, too. 

Pay attention to the behavior and words delivered by Wigg. Actually, pay to what everyone is saying. It’s really something.

Just so you know, there are a ton of F-bombs and the language is downright racy. I loved it but if you don’t then watch out or don’t rent it.

It’s hard to have your cake and eat it too (said in the movie) which we all know but still try. We can’t have everything and nothing is ever perfect.

And YES, relationships are difficult in and of themselves but especially if you throw in a few demanding toddlers and poopy diapers.

Loved this movie. LOVED the ending!

* I don’t believe I’ve ever done a movie review before but just felt it today.

Dear Ann Landers: About Showing Up

This morning, I was looking for an Ann Landers article from years ago that I sent to a friend. I don’t have any idea why I wanted to find it. Crazy how thinks pop into your brain. Into my brain?

I wrote it out for her by hand and kept the newsprint for myself. Not known for my stellar organizational skills, I’m not surprised I can’t find it in the place that would make the most sense.

The subject matter was relationships. It was about “showing up”.

~Be present, Be reliable, Be there. Just show up. ~

Does anyone remember this one?

I’m home a lot lately. I have to be. I have to “show up.” And it’s okay.

Damn! I wish I could find it because I’d love to have it here so I can read it often. So I’m googling the hell out of this machine and searching. I will find it.

In the meantime, I found a few quotes of Ann’s that I always liked/loved. I used to read her column daily. I even wrote to her once about a relationship/family issue. Never got a response and, therefore, it was never printed. I still read even though I was disappointed.

“Many people think that holding on and hanging in there are signs of great strength. But there are times when it takes much more strength to know when to let go - and then to do it.”

“If you have love in your life it can make up for a great many things you lack. If you don't have it, no matter what else there is, it's not enough.”

“Keep in mind that the true measure of an individual is how he treats a person who can do him absolutely no good.”

“Make somebody happy today, and mind your own business”

LOVE THIS

“Hanging onto resentment is letting someone you despise live rent-free in your head.”

“Opportunities are usually disguised as hard work, so most people don't recognize them.”

“It is not what you do for your children, but what you have taught them to do for themselves that will make them successful human beings.

“At every party there are two kinds of people - those who want to go home and those who don't. The trouble is, they are usually married to each other.” So what about the couples where neither wants to go home until the fun stops…that’s our problem!

“Inside every seventy-year-old is a thirty-five-year-old asking, 'What happened?”

Gorgeous day.

Ellie and I are going to go sit on the porch together. 

You know, maybe it was Dear Abby.