Hey Rowan, why do you do everything so half-hearted?
Maybe you should be a lawyer Rowan, they're heartless. You're close!
Rowan: "Don't worry, I'm going to put all of my donor's heart into it!"
Rowan: "Baby, I love you with all of some donor's heart!"
Adding a little humor into my life. When we get to the point that this stuff is actually funny - we have been successful
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
A Vent
I think I may have figured out why I hate reading from a male’s point of view. Men in books (and I’m not just talking Danielle Steele type novels) always describe women they’re in love with in a goddess-like capacity. You’d think the beauties they are with were literally freaking Aphrodite, in girl next door form. The truth, I’m a girl next door type. I’m not Aphrodite. Who the hell actually has the time to buff their skin until it glows and feels softer than silk? Hell, I don’t have time to dry my hair most mornings. My hair is tangled by the end of the day. My skin isn’t glossy and smooth. I can’t wax my legs. Stubble happens. And here’s the kicker – I try! I get up earlier than I would otherwise have to so I can try to pick out some sort of outfit that makes me look like I didn’t get dressed in the dark. I try to style my hair. I wear make-up. I use lotion. And after working all day, coming home, and being super wife/mom for several hours, I lay down to relax and read a book and cue the scene in the book where Mr. Hero describes common place tavern wench as though she is heaven on earth and suddenly any bit of sex drive I might have had the energy for flies out the damn window because I feel like there is no way I will ever be like that at 9:00PM without several hundred dollars at a spa – and even then it’ll only last an hour or two. So thanks male authors and male point-of-views for making me feel like I fail as a woman. You suck.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Thoughts on school emergencies....
Someone was screaming out in the hallway. I glanced over the computer towards the shut door. “Really?” I asked out loud. Several students had stopped reading their tests and were staring towards the door.
“I know Mrs. Flower! How am I supposed to-“
“Reed. Eyes on your paper. Thank you.”
I walked over to the door and opened it, preparing to storm down the hall and give one of Mrs. Humble’s students a piece of my mind about yelling in the hallway while classes were going on. I flung the door open and stepped into the hall. The hallway was empty. The double doors down the hall were shut.
Mrs. Linea peered around her door. She raised one eyebrow looking down the hall.
“You heard that right?” I asked.
“Yeah.” Mrs. Humble flung her door open and paused with finger crooked and mouth open ready to deal out a strike or detention and froze mid-step.
“Really?” she said. “Why would you yell?” She turned my way. “Aren’t you giving a test?”
I sighed. “We didn’t yell. I guess something is going on over on the other side of the doors. Maybe someone has a guest speaker.”
The lights went out.
Screams came high pitched and feigned from all three classrooms.
“Well shit.” Humble disappeared behind her door and started barking “hush” orders. I turned around to address my own room.
“Guys, really? Calm down, the power will come back on in just-“
The ground started shaking.
The screams started for real. I watched as the SMARTboard projector began to shake. “Under the desks! Get under desks and tables right now!” Crashes echoed as the projector hit the ground and shattered, cabinets opening and computer screens plummeting. The shutters jiggled flashing miner amounts of light from outside. I braced myself in the doorway. A cracking noise moved my eyes upward. I watched as the front of the room was traced by a black crack running up the wall. I looked around the room, scared eyes under the desks staring up at the ceilings. Bright lights seemed to flash from outside as the shades wobbled in the shaking.
Finally, the rumbling stopped. I looked around the room. My eyes found the emergency bag on the wall. I stepped one foot over and grabbed it. Earthquake. What page was earthquake on? I flipped quickly through looking for Earthquake. Jesus, this was Oklahoma! Why the hell would they even – oh there it is, Earthquake…under desks..wait until stops…assess room. I looked around. There was glass on the floor, the cubbies had cracked and the front wall looked like a fault line. Room bad. I glanced back at my paper. I could hear crying. “STAY UNDER THE DESKS!” I yelled and scanned the form. OK, if the room is not going to survive and after shock, move outside. I glanced out the door. “Linea, Humble, our room is not safe. I’m going to take them out.”
I turned back. The students were crying, screaming, completely freaking out. My own heart was racing. I needed to get their attention. “Students!” A few eyes my way but most were still panicing as their eyes darted about the room.
I needed something familiar. “B-A-L-B-O-A!” I yelled.
“Saw the Pacific Ocean!” Several students yelled.
“Listen up! I know you are scared. That is ok. But I need you to listen to me. I’m going to take care of you. We are going to line up in number order, and we are going to leave the building. The room is damaged and so we are going where you won’t get hurt. I need everyone to remain calm, and follow me out. Stay quiet so you can hear me. Stay close to me and don’t lose sight of the person in front of you.” I met their eyes. “Ok. Let’s go!”
I had never seen the students line up so quickly. Within seconds we were ready. Emergency bag in hand, I turned to lead them out. Humble and Linea were in the hall, bags on their shoulders and getting ready to exit. We turned to look out the glass doors that were our emergency exit. And that’s when we noticed that all of the trees outside our school had been burnt to a crisp.
“I know Mrs. Flower! How am I supposed to-“
“Reed. Eyes on your paper. Thank you.”
I walked over to the door and opened it, preparing to storm down the hall and give one of Mrs. Humble’s students a piece of my mind about yelling in the hallway while classes were going on. I flung the door open and stepped into the hall. The hallway was empty. The double doors down the hall were shut.
Mrs. Linea peered around her door. She raised one eyebrow looking down the hall.
“You heard that right?” I asked.
“Yeah.” Mrs. Humble flung her door open and paused with finger crooked and mouth open ready to deal out a strike or detention and froze mid-step.
“Really?” she said. “Why would you yell?” She turned my way. “Aren’t you giving a test?”
I sighed. “We didn’t yell. I guess something is going on over on the other side of the doors. Maybe someone has a guest speaker.”
The lights went out.
Screams came high pitched and feigned from all three classrooms.
“Well shit.” Humble disappeared behind her door and started barking “hush” orders. I turned around to address my own room.
“Guys, really? Calm down, the power will come back on in just-“
The ground started shaking.
The screams started for real. I watched as the SMARTboard projector began to shake. “Under the desks! Get under desks and tables right now!” Crashes echoed as the projector hit the ground and shattered, cabinets opening and computer screens plummeting. The shutters jiggled flashing miner amounts of light from outside. I braced myself in the doorway. A cracking noise moved my eyes upward. I watched as the front of the room was traced by a black crack running up the wall. I looked around the room, scared eyes under the desks staring up at the ceilings. Bright lights seemed to flash from outside as the shades wobbled in the shaking.
Finally, the rumbling stopped. I looked around the room. My eyes found the emergency bag on the wall. I stepped one foot over and grabbed it. Earthquake. What page was earthquake on? I flipped quickly through looking for Earthquake. Jesus, this was Oklahoma! Why the hell would they even – oh there it is, Earthquake…under desks..wait until stops…assess room. I looked around. There was glass on the floor, the cubbies had cracked and the front wall looked like a fault line. Room bad. I glanced back at my paper. I could hear crying. “STAY UNDER THE DESKS!” I yelled and scanned the form. OK, if the room is not going to survive and after shock, move outside. I glanced out the door. “Linea, Humble, our room is not safe. I’m going to take them out.”
I turned back. The students were crying, screaming, completely freaking out. My own heart was racing. I needed to get their attention. “Students!” A few eyes my way but most were still panicing as their eyes darted about the room.
I needed something familiar. “B-A-L-B-O-A!” I yelled.
“Saw the Pacific Ocean!” Several students yelled.
“Listen up! I know you are scared. That is ok. But I need you to listen to me. I’m going to take care of you. We are going to line up in number order, and we are going to leave the building. The room is damaged and so we are going where you won’t get hurt. I need everyone to remain calm, and follow me out. Stay quiet so you can hear me. Stay close to me and don’t lose sight of the person in front of you.” I met their eyes. “Ok. Let’s go!”
I had never seen the students line up so quickly. Within seconds we were ready. Emergency bag in hand, I turned to lead them out. Humble and Linea were in the hall, bags on their shoulders and getting ready to exit. We turned to look out the glass doors that were our emergency exit. And that’s when we noticed that all of the trees outside our school had been burnt to a crisp.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Stalled, but positive feedback
I have no time to write since I am working on writing lesson plans ALL THE TIME. However, I am happy to report that my kid's book on the Bill of Rights is being very well received by my students. During free reading time they are ALWAYS reading it! I'm hoping that this is a good sign and I will eventually get some positive news from an editor.
Side note:
When Doc finishes residency in 3.5 years, I will probably take a break from teaching. It will be Evelyn's last year before she starts school and whatever other children we have will still be at home so I can spend time with them. I am thinking I will invest some time in writing then to try to finish books. What this means is that I will try to keep a real writing journal with a ton of notes in it so that I can write then. Hope it works.
Side note:
When Doc finishes residency in 3.5 years, I will probably take a break from teaching. It will be Evelyn's last year before she starts school and whatever other children we have will still be at home so I can spend time with them. I am thinking I will invest some time in writing then to try to finish books. What this means is that I will try to keep a real writing journal with a ton of notes in it so that I can write then. Hope it works.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
More side project...don't ask me how it fits together or what happens
Somewhere mid-book
He was there again. “They keep telling me you aren’t real,” she told him, watching as he approached. He smiled at her, and held out his hand. She stared at it. If she could touch the hand, it was real. Slowly, she stretched out her fingers, daring to test her dreams. She took a deep breath, and gasped as he pulled his hand away right as she almost touched it.
That was not fair. He laughed as he turned and started running. She smiled, and ran after him.
Emma smacked her head on the hallway wall as she ran straight into it. She really needed to stop sleepwalking. All of her bruises would eventually make people talk, and then what would she do?
Emma returned to her bedroom, and glanced at her clock. Right on time. She shut off the alarm before it could start its shrieking. One day away from school wasn’t enough and she was still pissed at CT anyway. She’d show him abrasive.
She closed the door and walked down to CT’s house. Turning to walk to the front door, Emma changed her mind, and with a grin on her face headed for Amanda’s humble dwellings. She knocked on the door and waited as the prissy perfect-faced babe opened the door.
“What do you want?”
Emma took a deep breath. “I just wanted to let you know, that I talked to CT last night, and he told me that he wants to ask you out today. He’s a little shy about it though, but I just thought maybe you could help him out.”
“Why would you want to help me out?”
“I just want CT to be happy.”
Amanda tilted her head, obviously buying it. She sighed happily, then glared at Emma and slammed the door. Emma turned back toward the street and trotted along to the bus stop.
He was there again. “They keep telling me you aren’t real,” she told him, watching as he approached. He smiled at her, and held out his hand. She stared at it. If she could touch the hand, it was real. Slowly, she stretched out her fingers, daring to test her dreams. She took a deep breath, and gasped as he pulled his hand away right as she almost touched it.
That was not fair. He laughed as he turned and started running. She smiled, and ran after him.
Emma smacked her head on the hallway wall as she ran straight into it. She really needed to stop sleepwalking. All of her bruises would eventually make people talk, and then what would she do?
Emma returned to her bedroom, and glanced at her clock. Right on time. She shut off the alarm before it could start its shrieking. One day away from school wasn’t enough and she was still pissed at CT anyway. She’d show him abrasive.
She closed the door and walked down to CT’s house. Turning to walk to the front door, Emma changed her mind, and with a grin on her face headed for Amanda’s humble dwellings. She knocked on the door and waited as the prissy perfect-faced babe opened the door.
“What do you want?”
Emma took a deep breath. “I just wanted to let you know, that I talked to CT last night, and he told me that he wants to ask you out today. He’s a little shy about it though, but I just thought maybe you could help him out.”
“Why would you want to help me out?”
“I just want CT to be happy.”
Amanda tilted her head, obviously buying it. She sighed happily, then glared at Emma and slammed the door. Emma turned back toward the street and trotted along to the bus stop.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Side project...
The first chapter of another book. Completely different audience, no idea where it goes. Enjoy.
He was back. That boy. She could see him so clearly now. Away from here, his features faded to a watery benevolence that made his image ghostly. Yet, he was back, in this place. She felt a warm smile spread across her face as she followed him through the trees. A storm was brewing to the west and the air began dancing. The breeze shifted as they came out of the forest and the trees gave way to a field.
Her legs began pumping as he began running in earnest. She’d catch him this time and study his face until she could recall it whenever she pleased. Her breathing became labored, and her legs began to burn, but she was gaining on him. She laughed as he slowed down. Triumph. He stopped and stood facing away from her.
With a triumphant whoop she leapt to knock him to the ground. She sailed right through him and fell flat onto her bed.
Emma awoke to a face full of pillow and the obnoxious beating of her alarm. She hated that sound. It had stolen more happy endings then reality ever could. From the day she was born, reality had disappointed her. Her dreams were far more entertaining than reality. The blinking digital numbers laughed at her as she reached over to shut off the alarm. Another boring day in boring ole’ reality was about to take flight.
Emma threw on second day jeans and a t-shirt. Morning sucked. Downstairs everything was proceeding as normal. No breakfast sat on the table as her mother had long ago given up any hope of cooking an actual meal. Granola bar again. It always seems to happen that mothers give up cherished pastimes like feeding their eldest when they have more children, particularly the five children living in Emma’s house. Emma entered the downstairs study to gather her school gear.
A loud thud caught her ear, followed by the down-the-stairs-stampeding of her younger brothers. Well, crap. No time for coffee before the mini-rugbee team attacked. She quickly retrieved her bag, flung it over her shoulder, and bolted for the door. “Bye Mom!” she called as she threw open the door and disappeared from her house.
Sighing heavily, Emma breathed in the morning air. It tasted slightly lighter today. Perhaps the ridiculous humidity was finally lifting itself away. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of being able to breathe right again. No one should have to cope with this weather. She was getting out of Tulsa. Oklahoma had no excitement to offer anyway.
It was quiet, but that was to be expected on a Monday. Not even the birds were anxious to begin the week. Three houses down from Emma’s stood an all white Southern style home, covered in bright manicured flowers and grotesquely popular shiny orbs on stands.
A muted “Charles, are you sure you don’t need a ride today?” resounded through the plantation shutters. “You can’t honestly like riding the bus with all those apartment kids.”
“Mom, leave it alone.”
Smiling fully now, Emma strolled up to the house. As she opened the door she was rudely pushed right back outside by a sixteen year old boy a good foot taller than her. C.T. followed her outside and slammed the door. “Good morning Mrs. Clarke!” Emma called over her shoulder.
“What’s the matter with you? Do you want to die?” he asked in a hushed voice.
“Oh, come on now CT! Your mother loves me!” Emma stated, trying once again for the door.
“Your sarcasm is not appreciated.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her down the walkway.
“At least our discussions are interesting. Your mother has absolutely absurd ideas about tradition and old world values! I can just say the word LESBIAN and you can tell she’s having a minor stroke. We could all use a little excitement around here, you know.”
CT smirked, releasing her arm as they reached the street. Just as they began their trek to the bus stop, the red door across the street flew open and Amanda Thornton ran out to greet them. Her blonde curls bounced as she ran. It then occurred to Emma that she hadn’t even dragged a brush through her hair.
“Hey CT!” she flung her golden hair over to one side.
“Hi, um, Emma and I are going to be late for the bus so…”
It amazed Emma how someone could contort their face to look something like a shriveled pumpkin and the next moment, fling their hair and smile without smudging their makeup. “Look, CT,” her weight shifted and she tilted her head slightly, absent-mindedly twisting a lock of her bleached blonde hair. “I’m thinking about playing hooky today. Want to join me?”
Emma would have continued on to the bus stop if it didn’t humor her to watch CT struggle under pressure. CT shifted uneasily. Amanda had been out to get him for three solid months, and tragically for the poor popularity queen, he couldn’t stand her.
“No thanks. I, um, have stuff to um, just…not today,” Amanda shot a jealous glare in Emma’s direction before flipping her hair lightly and resituating her backpack.
“Some other time then.” She smiled and turned on her heel. Amanda made sure to walk with a completely exaggerated amount of confidence and sway her butt back and forth as she strutted two doors down and knocked on Tom Harrison’s door. Tom was the head of the football team and drove a trendy little hybrid car, as if he gave a crap about the environment.
Amanda had moved on to the jealousy tactic she often used when she was rejected and planned to bum a ride from the high school super star. As soon as Amanda was out of ear shot, Emma burst a giggle out at CT.
“Can it, Emma.”
“You know, you ought to go out with her, and then dump her. Then she’d write you love poems and throw rocks at your window, and maybe even dance naked on your lawn to win you back.”
“Shut up.” CT watched Amanda climb into Tom’s car as the two of them headed off down the street. “I wish I knew what her problem was. Why doesn’t she just bother the four hundred guys at school that want her attention?”
“Oh come on CT, you’re intelligent, ambitious, cultured, sensitive and, dare I say, stunningly attractive.” CT looked up with a start. Suddenly the air was a bit too awkward. Emma whacked him upside the head. “Oh don’t be dumb, you know I don’t mean a word of it.”
“Hey!” He laughed, rubbing his head and attempting to look hurt.
Emma swung her arm around his shoulder. “Don’t worry ole’ chap, some girl out there won’t mind if you’re a dumb, lazy, barbaric, insensitive old fool.” She winked at him as they walked the rest of the way to the bus stop. At the big yellow sign with a horrendous depiction of a yellow twinkie, they both turned left and kept on walking. Emma and CT were dodging the bus today. No need for parents or psycho stalkers to know that.
At the corner of 47th and Willow, Jen and Wade were waiting for them. Jen stood about the same height as CT and Wade was the shortest of the entire group. People often joked that Jon Wade was the perfect image of a stereotypical leprechaun. Standing at 4’10” with bright red hair they weren’t stretching far. His scruffy face didn’t help his image either. Wade refused to shave because he didn’t have a full face of fuzz, so his chin was covered in sporadic little red hairs that stuck straight out at least a quarter of an inch.
But it wouldn’t be fair to say that Wade was the only odd one of the bunch. Jen, well she looked like an alien. She was tall and gangly, making her head look a tad too big for her body. She always wore her blonde hair back in a tight bun making her forehead look expansive and her eyes bulge slightly.
Emma was the only normal looking one in the group. But it was by no means a good thing. Everything about her was average. She had brownish blonde hair, light brown eyes, stood at an average height, and average weight, and had average features. Nothing really stood out on Emma. CT often told Emma if she committed a crime, they’d never be able to describe her to the police, so she’d get away with it easy.
“Top o’ the morning to you, Wade!” CT called out.
“Come on CT, we have the whole day ahead of us, let’s not be all stuck up and snobby right away,” Jen stated indignantly lifting her chin slightly and narrowing her eyes. Jen’s facial expressions never seemed to really match her emotions.
CT pretended not to hear her and kept talking, “So what’s the plan Wade? We doin’ the usual?”
“Yeah. I toyed with trying to convince the girls of a different destination, but I know better.”
Emma took off her side bag and stuffed it into the back of Wade’s little two door piece of crap car. “So, are we heading to eat or what?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Yep. Waffle House!” Jen shouted leaving her mouth open wide, sounding enthusiastic, but looking like she had dilated to seven centimeters and was about to give birth.
Wade looked up at CT, “You sure we couldn’t talk them into going to get jalapeno breakfast burritos or something?”
“Those places only make eggs out of Styrofoam! I’d prefer to eat real eggs thanks,” Jen stated looking a little in love. Emma laughed as she folded herself into the back seat. Jen could always express love for food.
Wade signed, “Don’t tell me you’ve started up a conspiracy theory! Styrofoam eggs? Can’t you take up something normal to freak out about?”
“Like what? Burying my pot o’ gold?” Emma retorted with a thick Irish accent.
“I had a dream last night!” Jen interjected, changing the subject quickly. “It was that one where you’re being chased by something and you keep running down a long hall and opening doors that lead to more halls.”
“I hate that dream,” CT stated, now holding the seat back so Angela could climb in next to Emma.
“I keep having recurring dreams about digging in a gigantic bowl of ice cream. Is that weird?” Wade turned to Emma who shrugged.
“I keep having dreams about this girl,” CT added.
“AMANDA!” All three shouted.
“No, it’s not Amanda. I don’t know who it is. I can never remember her face.” Emma glanced at CT’s face through the rear-view mirror.
Jen sighed, “I hear people dream like that after they eat too much.”
Emma tried to remember what she ate the night before. Pizza. Too much of it. Maybe that boy was just undigested food. Maybe she’d have to start eating too much pizza on a more regular basis.
He was back. That boy. She could see him so clearly now. Away from here, his features faded to a watery benevolence that made his image ghostly. Yet, he was back, in this place. She felt a warm smile spread across her face as she followed him through the trees. A storm was brewing to the west and the air began dancing. The breeze shifted as they came out of the forest and the trees gave way to a field.
Her legs began pumping as he began running in earnest. She’d catch him this time and study his face until she could recall it whenever she pleased. Her breathing became labored, and her legs began to burn, but she was gaining on him. She laughed as he slowed down. Triumph. He stopped and stood facing away from her.
With a triumphant whoop she leapt to knock him to the ground. She sailed right through him and fell flat onto her bed.
Emma awoke to a face full of pillow and the obnoxious beating of her alarm. She hated that sound. It had stolen more happy endings then reality ever could. From the day she was born, reality had disappointed her. Her dreams were far more entertaining than reality. The blinking digital numbers laughed at her as she reached over to shut off the alarm. Another boring day in boring ole’ reality was about to take flight.
Emma threw on second day jeans and a t-shirt. Morning sucked. Downstairs everything was proceeding as normal. No breakfast sat on the table as her mother had long ago given up any hope of cooking an actual meal. Granola bar again. It always seems to happen that mothers give up cherished pastimes like feeding their eldest when they have more children, particularly the five children living in Emma’s house. Emma entered the downstairs study to gather her school gear.
A loud thud caught her ear, followed by the down-the-stairs-stampeding of her younger brothers. Well, crap. No time for coffee before the mini-rugbee team attacked. She quickly retrieved her bag, flung it over her shoulder, and bolted for the door. “Bye Mom!” she called as she threw open the door and disappeared from her house.
Sighing heavily, Emma breathed in the morning air. It tasted slightly lighter today. Perhaps the ridiculous humidity was finally lifting itself away. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of being able to breathe right again. No one should have to cope with this weather. She was getting out of Tulsa. Oklahoma had no excitement to offer anyway.
It was quiet, but that was to be expected on a Monday. Not even the birds were anxious to begin the week. Three houses down from Emma’s stood an all white Southern style home, covered in bright manicured flowers and grotesquely popular shiny orbs on stands.
A muted “Charles, are you sure you don’t need a ride today?” resounded through the plantation shutters. “You can’t honestly like riding the bus with all those apartment kids.”
“Mom, leave it alone.”
Smiling fully now, Emma strolled up to the house. As she opened the door she was rudely pushed right back outside by a sixteen year old boy a good foot taller than her. C.T. followed her outside and slammed the door. “Good morning Mrs. Clarke!” Emma called over her shoulder.
“What’s the matter with you? Do you want to die?” he asked in a hushed voice.
“Oh, come on now CT! Your mother loves me!” Emma stated, trying once again for the door.
“Your sarcasm is not appreciated.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her down the walkway.
“At least our discussions are interesting. Your mother has absolutely absurd ideas about tradition and old world values! I can just say the word LESBIAN and you can tell she’s having a minor stroke. We could all use a little excitement around here, you know.”
CT smirked, releasing her arm as they reached the street. Just as they began their trek to the bus stop, the red door across the street flew open and Amanda Thornton ran out to greet them. Her blonde curls bounced as she ran. It then occurred to Emma that she hadn’t even dragged a brush through her hair.
“Hey CT!” she flung her golden hair over to one side.
“Hi, um, Emma and I are going to be late for the bus so…”
It amazed Emma how someone could contort their face to look something like a shriveled pumpkin and the next moment, fling their hair and smile without smudging their makeup. “Look, CT,” her weight shifted and she tilted her head slightly, absent-mindedly twisting a lock of her bleached blonde hair. “I’m thinking about playing hooky today. Want to join me?”
Emma would have continued on to the bus stop if it didn’t humor her to watch CT struggle under pressure. CT shifted uneasily. Amanda had been out to get him for three solid months, and tragically for the poor popularity queen, he couldn’t stand her.
“No thanks. I, um, have stuff to um, just…not today,” Amanda shot a jealous glare in Emma’s direction before flipping her hair lightly and resituating her backpack.
“Some other time then.” She smiled and turned on her heel. Amanda made sure to walk with a completely exaggerated amount of confidence and sway her butt back and forth as she strutted two doors down and knocked on Tom Harrison’s door. Tom was the head of the football team and drove a trendy little hybrid car, as if he gave a crap about the environment.
Amanda had moved on to the jealousy tactic she often used when she was rejected and planned to bum a ride from the high school super star. As soon as Amanda was out of ear shot, Emma burst a giggle out at CT.
“Can it, Emma.”
“You know, you ought to go out with her, and then dump her. Then she’d write you love poems and throw rocks at your window, and maybe even dance naked on your lawn to win you back.”
“Shut up.” CT watched Amanda climb into Tom’s car as the two of them headed off down the street. “I wish I knew what her problem was. Why doesn’t she just bother the four hundred guys at school that want her attention?”
“Oh come on CT, you’re intelligent, ambitious, cultured, sensitive and, dare I say, stunningly attractive.” CT looked up with a start. Suddenly the air was a bit too awkward. Emma whacked him upside the head. “Oh don’t be dumb, you know I don’t mean a word of it.”
“Hey!” He laughed, rubbing his head and attempting to look hurt.
Emma swung her arm around his shoulder. “Don’t worry ole’ chap, some girl out there won’t mind if you’re a dumb, lazy, barbaric, insensitive old fool.” She winked at him as they walked the rest of the way to the bus stop. At the big yellow sign with a horrendous depiction of a yellow twinkie, they both turned left and kept on walking. Emma and CT were dodging the bus today. No need for parents or psycho stalkers to know that.
At the corner of 47th and Willow, Jen and Wade were waiting for them. Jen stood about the same height as CT and Wade was the shortest of the entire group. People often joked that Jon Wade was the perfect image of a stereotypical leprechaun. Standing at 4’10” with bright red hair they weren’t stretching far. His scruffy face didn’t help his image either. Wade refused to shave because he didn’t have a full face of fuzz, so his chin was covered in sporadic little red hairs that stuck straight out at least a quarter of an inch.
But it wouldn’t be fair to say that Wade was the only odd one of the bunch. Jen, well she looked like an alien. She was tall and gangly, making her head look a tad too big for her body. She always wore her blonde hair back in a tight bun making her forehead look expansive and her eyes bulge slightly.
Emma was the only normal looking one in the group. But it was by no means a good thing. Everything about her was average. She had brownish blonde hair, light brown eyes, stood at an average height, and average weight, and had average features. Nothing really stood out on Emma. CT often told Emma if she committed a crime, they’d never be able to describe her to the police, so she’d get away with it easy.
“Top o’ the morning to you, Wade!” CT called out.
“Come on CT, we have the whole day ahead of us, let’s not be all stuck up and snobby right away,” Jen stated indignantly lifting her chin slightly and narrowing her eyes. Jen’s facial expressions never seemed to really match her emotions.
CT pretended not to hear her and kept talking, “So what’s the plan Wade? We doin’ the usual?”
“Yeah. I toyed with trying to convince the girls of a different destination, but I know better.”
Emma took off her side bag and stuffed it into the back of Wade’s little two door piece of crap car. “So, are we heading to eat or what?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Yep. Waffle House!” Jen shouted leaving her mouth open wide, sounding enthusiastic, but looking like she had dilated to seven centimeters and was about to give birth.
Wade looked up at CT, “You sure we couldn’t talk them into going to get jalapeno breakfast burritos or something?”
“Those places only make eggs out of Styrofoam! I’d prefer to eat real eggs thanks,” Jen stated looking a little in love. Emma laughed as she folded herself into the back seat. Jen could always express love for food.
Wade signed, “Don’t tell me you’ve started up a conspiracy theory! Styrofoam eggs? Can’t you take up something normal to freak out about?”
“Like what? Burying my pot o’ gold?” Emma retorted with a thick Irish accent.
“I had a dream last night!” Jen interjected, changing the subject quickly. “It was that one where you’re being chased by something and you keep running down a long hall and opening doors that lead to more halls.”
“I hate that dream,” CT stated, now holding the seat back so Angela could climb in next to Emma.
“I keep having recurring dreams about digging in a gigantic bowl of ice cream. Is that weird?” Wade turned to Emma who shrugged.
“I keep having dreams about this girl,” CT added.
“AMANDA!” All three shouted.
“No, it’s not Amanda. I don’t know who it is. I can never remember her face.” Emma glanced at CT’s face through the rear-view mirror.
Jen sighed, “I hear people dream like that after they eat too much.”
Emma tried to remember what she ate the night before. Pizza. Too much of it. Maybe that boy was just undigested food. Maybe she’d have to start eating too much pizza on a more regular basis.
Honesty about our relationship...
Doc has amazing faith in me and is super supportive of this book project. Infact, he has given me license to air our dirty laundry in the interest of authenticity. We have fights. I'm not ashamed of it. The lives we have chosen are not ones that fit together easily, and every fight we have is a fight for our relationship. We fight to stay together, we fight for eachother. We fight to survive.
So I am about to start work on another "fight scene"...one where I tell Doc he can't be a surgeon. It's probably the worst guilt I have ever felt telling my own husband he can't do something he loves. But I had reasons, and Doc has come to understand and accept that I could see things he could not about his decision. I think we are on the same page now, but it was really hard for me to be a dream crusher, and I think hard for Doc to let go of something he was so sure of.
It's a rough thing to do as a wife, and something that I feel like five years from now, could very well be the thing that drove us apart, or the thing that kept us together. I'm hoping for the later.
So I am about to start work on another "fight scene"...one where I tell Doc he can't be a surgeon. It's probably the worst guilt I have ever felt telling my own husband he can't do something he loves. But I had reasons, and Doc has come to understand and accept that I could see things he could not about his decision. I think we are on the same page now, but it was really hard for me to be a dream crusher, and I think hard for Doc to let go of something he was so sure of.
It's a rough thing to do as a wife, and something that I feel like five years from now, could very well be the thing that drove us apart, or the thing that kept us together. I'm hoping for the later.
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