Ten years ago I woke up just as tired as I am today. Routine as usual, my legs hung over the side of the bed as I took a deep breath ready or not so ready to take on the day. THE "Day". I was so nauseous, unsure and afraid of what the rest of our lives was going to be like. Was I going to be June Cleaver donning aprons, meatloaf and kissing her husband Good Morning and Night everyday without fail? or like the many couples who end up divorced by the 3rd year, wondering why they did it in the first place… I remember looking over my shoulder at a man that wasn't there. Maybe he was just as lost in thought as I was because that "day" was the very one that started our lives together. Sounds sort of stupid even romantic, I know, but I even remember ruffling through the drawer to stare at my ring, impatient as I was. I wanted to wear it right then but I had to wait, omg! hours till it was slipped on my finger by a man who said he loved me.
"I now pronounce you, Mr. and Mr. So and So" was shouted not 12 hours later amongst laughter and applause from a hundred people watching us holding hands and smiling, and afraid as Hell. Yes, I said Mr. and Mr. The pastor was just as nervous as we were. Even made us say our vows twice. Guess he wanted to make sure we knew the rules to longevity and a life time of happiness. Were we not listening…?
Fast forward to a year later. I woke up just the same as I flung my legs over the side of the bed but a little more carefully. Our little boy was sound asleep between me and cold spot and I was once again wracked with nausea. This time it wasn't from being September 27th, though. It was son number 2 making it known that he too, would soon be my routine. I looked over my shoulder to a man that wasn't there. It was the last race of the season.
I was quickly reminded that even though it was our 1st anniversary, first meaning not the 2nd or 3rd was just a day and not so important. What's the ideal gift you give on the 1st one? Paper right? Paper I had. It was a paper plate with a plastic spoon and napkin left sitting on the cooler near the trailer. No candlelit dinner on fine china in a dimly lit room full of hormones and testosterone. The flame was that of a match used to light the grill so I could burn a few burgers and hotdogs for all who came to cheer him on. June Cleaver I wasn't but the meatloaf and kisses I could handle.
Years later, the same day passes by with the same routine of paper plates and plastic spoons. September 27th became not our anniversary but the end of the season and something he looked forward to. Oh I enjoyed myself, no doubt. I was proud of him. That man flying down the drag strip at a 130 some miles an hour was my husband. I worried sick every time he got behind the wheel to the point it was nauseating but I cheered him on while snapping pictures of the same thing over and over again before going back to the trailer to prepare for the next meal or pick up after the last one. Soon as he came back and climbed out the car, I took the time slip from trembling fingers, not of mine but my husband's. Sometimes I couldn't help but pause with my hand on his and looked at the rings we slipped on each other's fingers so many years ago. It truly didn't matter if we hadn't the usual and customary anniversary as long as I was with him. Just sometimes I had wished for the surprise date or something written on the inside of my card that was still in the small grocery bag. I have no regrets, please remember that. I loved him. I loved the thought. It became a tradition of sorts.
Fast forward one last time, ten years later. I wake up as tired as I had then and carefully dropped my legs over the side of the very same bed. This time I couldn't get up. I had no strength. I looked over my shoulder to a man that wasn't there. That side of the bed hadn't been slept in for along time. I felt just as lost as that very day 10 years before. June Cleaver I wasn't. Never made any claim to be so. But we did become like the majority that split before making the mile stone for reasons better left unsaid.This year, I'll celebrate alone. No paper plates other than the ones my boys will eat from later in the evening. This year I have nothing to be proud of but those very children that came from a love that was no longer anything. I won't be at a race track sitting in the bleachers holding a camera full of pictures of THE day, but numbly watching the little white lines passing me by as I drove for hours not wanting to go back home to an empty house.
This year, I found myself behind the wheel nowhere near in control of my own life, searching for some or any direction other than the cold metal signs on the side of the highway. I seriously feel just as empty as the fields that pass me by. Right now, I wish for an unsigned card in a Wal-Mart bag waiting for me on the counter when I do get home... But I know better. As I have learned for the last 10 years, September 27th is just a day like any other.
Maybe I will light a candle tonight at 7:00 pm sharp. If for anything, its to shed some light on the ring that no longer adorns my trembling finger.
Maybe…
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Why
I look in a mirror. My eyes are wide but tired. Leaning in a little closer, I gently place a small amount of lotion near the corners of my eyes and mouth trying to relieve some of the tension lines that seem to be multiplying daily. It doesn't do me much good I'm sure but I do it anyway. I notice my finger trembling as it lingers on the edge of my lips, tracing what once was a smile. Hurts too much anymore. Deeper…and nothing like the scars that riddles the back of my hands as I balled them up in anger of absolutely nothing.
Sighing, I open the third drawer below hoping that I have a clean, dark shirt to pull over my wet hair and shoulders, stopping just slightly to catch a glimpse of what I was trying to hide. In a huff I pull the T-shirt all the way down and throwing on a pair of pants too big but forgiving. Brushing my thinning locks up and out of the way, a strand of hair falls down my face. I just let it. I have no will to care. It's there for the day as I am. I look back at the woman in the mirror, not recognizing her. Some days I refuse to. It's me, there's no way around it. Just some times I wish I could be like the women in the magazines with nary a hair out of place, perfect complexion and perky breasts. Or better yet, the woman in so many pictures smiling and laughing that litter the family album collecting dust under the coffee table.
Running my fingers thru the stray strands of hair, I get the day started as I have done every day for the passed so many years. I clamp my eyes shut of the person I wish I was as I turn the alarm clock off five minutes before it's supposed to chime. Why I bother with one, I don't know. I don't sleep but a wink here or there. Even when I do, I'm still aware of everything that goes on around me. It's so easy to turn off the alarm clock. Why isn't so easy to turn off the world?
As I drug myself, one foot sluggishly after another to get the boys ready on time, I can remember when routine wasn't in my vocabulary. We slept in and did nothing but what we wanted to do and it was fun. Now its butter on this side of the bread, jam the other, not forgetting the notebooks, folders, tennis shoes and I love you's as they're shuffled out to the bus.
I refuse to go outside to see them off. I have before but don't anymore. I got tired of the points and giggles from the "other" kids making comments about the woman on the front porch of the blue house. Oh my ears never heard a thing any of them said. But in the back of my mind, it was my own voice that made the taunts matching the stares and snobbish little faces. As my hand struggled to grab the handle against a blustery wind, I shut the door to the world. I was once again to myself. Devoid of laughter, chaos, and self worth.
Walking down the hallway, I ignore the pangs of hunger emanating from my rumbly stomach. Today I prolly won't eat. I don't feel like it. Or maybe I do but just can't bare the thought of what I did yesterday. Not this day. I swore just a few hours before that I wouldn't become weak again and continue a pattern I promised myself for years to overcome. I failed just like I have at so many other things in my life. All I had to do was to stand before the mirror I turned away from this morning and remind myself of how hideous I was, justification became simple.
Picking up the discarded clothes the boys left and throwing them in the washer not but a few feet from the very room I wanted to ignore, I tried to forgot that I was hungry. I didn't dare go to the kitchen, though. Temptation is sinful. I knew I needed to do the dishes from the night before but the smell of the food was nauseating. Hungry or stubborn, it would throw me off. I've lived this day before. For years… One day became two, two became three. No worries. By the third or fourth day, I didn't recall the pangs or dizzying effects that taking a step forward would have on me.
Backing away from the counter, I lit a candle to disguise the odor and walked back down the hallway to my room. The day was sunny and the warmth gradually raised the temperature in my cold escape. Sitting down at my computer, I brought up the mornings news on the internet, trying hard to remain deaf to the sounds in my midriff. Today, it didn't work, and I found myself walking back down an empty hallway towards the kitchen.
My hands shook as I opened up the cupboard. It was full of nothing edible. Atleast to me. Nothing palatable to anyone but a growing boy of 8 or 9 or a man that no longer wanted a snack before dinner. So I grabbed a bowl and poured in a healthy amount of something that tasted a lot like cardboard, forcing myself to swallow as the spoon penetrated a very defiant set of lips over and over again. Defiance quickly became overindulgence and the sickening feeling in my stomach was no longer hunger. It was disgust and pity. And it gave me such a horrible after taste that I had to rid myself of it. The very tool I used to feed one obsession soon became the tool to rid me of another.
I failed again.
Not sure of why or how, but sleep came to me quickly lying on the floor no where near my bed. Maybe it held too many memories or nightmares to let me rest, I don't know. But the floor was cool and forgiving like the rag-o-muffin dogs curled up beside me. Nothing I ever did was wrong in their eyes. Why couldn't the world see me as they did. But their minds weren't twisted and manipulated by the masses as every else was. Even my own children who once said "Mommy, you're pretty" or "Mommy, you're the best" saw fit to tell me they'd rather have a new puppy when given the option of just one more dog or a healthy mom. That was one of the worst things I could ever hear.
Then it hit me.
Why do I hate myself so much? Why do continually torture myself for the acceptance of another? WHY! Does it take me becoming sickly and stick thin again to gain the love of someone who only sees as shallow as he is? Does it take me practically killing myself, again, to be like WHO? That woman in the mirror is me. Like it or not. That is me. Why can't you love her, me, for who I am? Why can't I love myself for the very same reason?
Some one please tell me. If not now, later, because right now I have to lift this very heavy burden off the floor….
Sighing, I open the third drawer below hoping that I have a clean, dark shirt to pull over my wet hair and shoulders, stopping just slightly to catch a glimpse of what I was trying to hide. In a huff I pull the T-shirt all the way down and throwing on a pair of pants too big but forgiving. Brushing my thinning locks up and out of the way, a strand of hair falls down my face. I just let it. I have no will to care. It's there for the day as I am. I look back at the woman in the mirror, not recognizing her. Some days I refuse to. It's me, there's no way around it. Just some times I wish I could be like the women in the magazines with nary a hair out of place, perfect complexion and perky breasts. Or better yet, the woman in so many pictures smiling and laughing that litter the family album collecting dust under the coffee table.
Running my fingers thru the stray strands of hair, I get the day started as I have done every day for the passed so many years. I clamp my eyes shut of the person I wish I was as I turn the alarm clock off five minutes before it's supposed to chime. Why I bother with one, I don't know. I don't sleep but a wink here or there. Even when I do, I'm still aware of everything that goes on around me. It's so easy to turn off the alarm clock. Why isn't so easy to turn off the world?
As I drug myself, one foot sluggishly after another to get the boys ready on time, I can remember when routine wasn't in my vocabulary. We slept in and did nothing but what we wanted to do and it was fun. Now its butter on this side of the bread, jam the other, not forgetting the notebooks, folders, tennis shoes and I love you's as they're shuffled out to the bus.
I refuse to go outside to see them off. I have before but don't anymore. I got tired of the points and giggles from the "other" kids making comments about the woman on the front porch of the blue house. Oh my ears never heard a thing any of them said. But in the back of my mind, it was my own voice that made the taunts matching the stares and snobbish little faces. As my hand struggled to grab the handle against a blustery wind, I shut the door to the world. I was once again to myself. Devoid of laughter, chaos, and self worth.
Walking down the hallway, I ignore the pangs of hunger emanating from my rumbly stomach. Today I prolly won't eat. I don't feel like it. Or maybe I do but just can't bare the thought of what I did yesterday. Not this day. I swore just a few hours before that I wouldn't become weak again and continue a pattern I promised myself for years to overcome. I failed just like I have at so many other things in my life. All I had to do was to stand before the mirror I turned away from this morning and remind myself of how hideous I was, justification became simple.
Picking up the discarded clothes the boys left and throwing them in the washer not but a few feet from the very room I wanted to ignore, I tried to forgot that I was hungry. I didn't dare go to the kitchen, though. Temptation is sinful. I knew I needed to do the dishes from the night before but the smell of the food was nauseating. Hungry or stubborn, it would throw me off. I've lived this day before. For years… One day became two, two became three. No worries. By the third or fourth day, I didn't recall the pangs or dizzying effects that taking a step forward would have on me.
Backing away from the counter, I lit a candle to disguise the odor and walked back down the hallway to my room. The day was sunny and the warmth gradually raised the temperature in my cold escape. Sitting down at my computer, I brought up the mornings news on the internet, trying hard to remain deaf to the sounds in my midriff. Today, it didn't work, and I found myself walking back down an empty hallway towards the kitchen.
My hands shook as I opened up the cupboard. It was full of nothing edible. Atleast to me. Nothing palatable to anyone but a growing boy of 8 or 9 or a man that no longer wanted a snack before dinner. So I grabbed a bowl and poured in a healthy amount of something that tasted a lot like cardboard, forcing myself to swallow as the spoon penetrated a very defiant set of lips over and over again. Defiance quickly became overindulgence and the sickening feeling in my stomach was no longer hunger. It was disgust and pity. And it gave me such a horrible after taste that I had to rid myself of it. The very tool I used to feed one obsession soon became the tool to rid me of another.
I failed again.
Not sure of why or how, but sleep came to me quickly lying on the floor no where near my bed. Maybe it held too many memories or nightmares to let me rest, I don't know. But the floor was cool and forgiving like the rag-o-muffin dogs curled up beside me. Nothing I ever did was wrong in their eyes. Why couldn't the world see me as they did. But their minds weren't twisted and manipulated by the masses as every else was. Even my own children who once said "Mommy, you're pretty" or "Mommy, you're the best" saw fit to tell me they'd rather have a new puppy when given the option of just one more dog or a healthy mom. That was one of the worst things I could ever hear.
Then it hit me.
Why do I hate myself so much? Why do continually torture myself for the acceptance of another? WHY! Does it take me becoming sickly and stick thin again to gain the love of someone who only sees as shallow as he is? Does it take me practically killing myself, again, to be like WHO? That woman in the mirror is me. Like it or not. That is me. Why can't you love her, me, for who I am? Why can't I love myself for the very same reason?
Some one please tell me. If not now, later, because right now I have to lift this very heavy burden off the floor….
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Red
The big bad wolf, remember him? He was the menacing and cunning young wolf that followed Red through the forest all the while befriending her in order to gain information just so he could eat her. Brothers Grimm did a great job, really they did. Other adaptations written later by several authors did it some justice but the message remained the same. The wolf was a cad and between the lines was a vivid lesson to be learned.
Let's set the scene.
Here we have Red, wanting to get to Grandma's house in order to give the ailing woman some goodies in hopes to cheer her up. Lil' Red, being that she's barely out of her own yard, is inundated by the fact that the forest is scary and hides many a danger. It doesn't take long until she is seen by our villain, the Big Bad Wolf and almost immediately he senses her naïveté and takes advantage of the situation in order to procure a 'meal'.
Light conversation here and there, Red begins to loosen up and talk quite a bit, revealing just a little too much to our disguised villain. Enticed even more, the Wolf offers his assistance, trying to be nice and set the scene to gain her trust; while doing so he never once revealed his true intention. The Wolf then suggests that she pick some flowers as a distraction and placing even more sweet thoughts in her head about the stranger she encountered as he whisks himself to Grandma's house so to clear the way for her arrival in hopes he can have her all to himself without any distractions.
Arrived did he, tussle and tossle, Grandma became his snack…
Whatever happened to Grandma anyway? Was she really eaten whole? I sincerely doubt it to be honest. So I imagined the bitty sitting by the pool side sipping her martini and eating fresh strawberries with hellatious cream and sugar to dip them in when the knock came from the door by our Big Bad Wolf. Since she barely had anything on but her swimsuit, robe and high heeled fuzzy slippers, the Wolf immediately became intrigued by the older woman. Now we can't blame old
Grandma, now can we? Young and wild knocking on her door after all these years since Grandpa went away, the woman must have been throwing out some major pheromones as she invited him in.
I'm sure the morning went well, both satisfied but the thought of Red coming made our Wolf uneasy. Sweet talking Grandma, who is sure she found her youth again takes his suggestion, as she accepts the $50 he slipped her, that the he sleep and gain back his energy while she goes into town to shop since she obviously felt better. Watching her drive away, he senses Red and hurries and scammers to find a disguise just before she knocks upon the door.
"Grandma! It's Red, can I come in?" she exclaims after several knocks on the door with no return.
Shoving himself into ruffles, a shower cap and sheets that smelled like sex the Wolf shouts for her to come in. "Grandma? You're voice is so rough, I'm so glad I got here in time, I have some goodies for you to make you feel better" as she pushed her way through not one but several to get to her bedroom door.
Along the way, the flamed haired little lady noticed clothes scattered about the floor including two empty martini glasses and plaid boxer shorts precariously dangling from a picture of Grandpa hanging crooked on the wall. Eye brow went up as curiosity peaked she wondered just what in the world Grandma was up to. Sitting next to the bed, Red tried with several attempts to get the covers lowered from Grandma's face. After almost giving up, Red slipped her hand into her basket and pulled out a piping hot muffin, pretending to devour the morsel herself. Not so much to her surprise, the covers fell down in temptation but the sight she looked upon rendered her in terror.
"Oh Grandma! What big eyes you have!" exclaimed the flame haired vixen.
"Better to see you with, my dear" said the big bad wolf as he licked his lips and groped himself under the covers…
Calming down a bit, Red saw through the rouse as she recognized the Wolf who so tame, obliging and gentle back in the forest. Sensing that he took advantage of her being naïve and not to mention her grandmother, she decided to play along just long enough to uncover, embarrass and teach Wolf a lesson.
"Oh Grandma! What are you doing under the sheets, do you have an itch since you can not stop moving?" Red said with almost a giggle "I'll get you something to sooth that." as she rushed into the bathroom. Poking about in Grandma's cupboards she finally found what she was looking for and returned with much haste. "Here let me sprinkle this on you" sitting back down on her stool.
"Oh dear me" the Wolf croaked as the idea of Red touching something that was obviously in the way made him uneasy. Stuttering, he begged her to cease and desist promising he could do that himself after a bit. Defeated, Red put down the powder and proceeded to decloak herself, placing the red hooded cape over the end of the bed. In doing so, the Wolf's problem under the sheets became more evident as Red bent over just a little bit too much in her attempt to get more of a rise out of him.
"Oh Grandma! You need a bib or something because you are foaming at the mouth, not to mention your breath stinks! What in the world have you been eating?" she chided as she sat back down on the stool, leaving her legs uncrossed. Her plan was working and she was proud of herself in her attempt to unmask the Wolf.
"No no no" stuttered the wolf even more as he could hardly contain himself any longer. "The cappuccino machine gave me too much foam and it keeps coming back up on me. I'll be ok, dear, I promise." He lied, lied, lied ! through his teeth and it became even more clear that he couldn't keep the plan a foot much longer. "Maybe, if you gave me something to drink, I'd be better"
Red, leaning forward a bit to lift herself from the stool, went to fetch 'Grandma' a sip as asked but stated on the way out the bedroom door that she would bring her her toothbrush and paste in hopes it would get the taste out of her mouth. As she came back, she couldn't help but gasp in disgust as Grandma was 'scratching' herself in up most speed and need. Caught he was, the Wolf jumped out of bed in claims that he couldn't keep up the disguise since Red turned out to be a tease and chased her around the room. Little Red, even though her intent was grand and with well intent, found herself in a situation she couldn't get herself out of.
Screaching blood curdling wails could be heard throughout the country side as the pursuit continued through the afternoon. Finally, someone brave enough to help poor Red's plight took it upon himself and with one shot, castrated the once Big Bad Wolf and left him crying on the floor for forgiveness. Whisked away by her savior, who was nothing but a hunter himself, Red was relieved to be rid of this menace and happy he was finally taught a lesson. Little did she know that she became the hunted herself as the very man who saved her was nothing more than a wolf in sheep's clothing.
So there you have it. Red in all her glory, the Wolf in all his afterthought and Grandma in all her afterglow tied up in the closet with nothing on but Grandpa's silk ties in a scene that was cut and fell upon the cutting room floor.
I dare say, but what is the moral of this story? Whether intended or not, the Brothers Grimm wrote a story to be handed down through the ages and has become a harsh morality tale warning women of the advances of men and becoming victims of well rehearsed intent. We see Red as the young woman almost eaten alive by a more experienced and devious foe. Grandma herself fell victim as well when encountered by the same line over and over and over again. Some take the bait and regret befalls them later, some wise up quickly to unmask those who prey. The Wolf himself was not entirely defeated since he got what he wanted but replaced by a more cunning adversary, the hunter.
So story told, story revealed, I say to all "Reds" to be weary of all the "Wolves" in hopes that they will not become a victim of their intentions. Wise up and take haste of this lesson and maybe the friendships later in life even with the Three Little Pigs won't fall to regret.
Have a nice day, ladies…
Let's set the scene.
Here we have Red, wanting to get to Grandma's house in order to give the ailing woman some goodies in hopes to cheer her up. Lil' Red, being that she's barely out of her own yard, is inundated by the fact that the forest is scary and hides many a danger. It doesn't take long until she is seen by our villain, the Big Bad Wolf and almost immediately he senses her naïveté and takes advantage of the situation in order to procure a 'meal'.
Light conversation here and there, Red begins to loosen up and talk quite a bit, revealing just a little too much to our disguised villain. Enticed even more, the Wolf offers his assistance, trying to be nice and set the scene to gain her trust; while doing so he never once revealed his true intention. The Wolf then suggests that she pick some flowers as a distraction and placing even more sweet thoughts in her head about the stranger she encountered as he whisks himself to Grandma's house so to clear the way for her arrival in hopes he can have her all to himself without any distractions.
Arrived did he, tussle and tossle, Grandma became his snack…
Whatever happened to Grandma anyway? Was she really eaten whole? I sincerely doubt it to be honest. So I imagined the bitty sitting by the pool side sipping her martini and eating fresh strawberries with hellatious cream and sugar to dip them in when the knock came from the door by our Big Bad Wolf. Since she barely had anything on but her swimsuit, robe and high heeled fuzzy slippers, the Wolf immediately became intrigued by the older woman. Now we can't blame old
Grandma, now can we? Young and wild knocking on her door after all these years since Grandpa went away, the woman must have been throwing out some major pheromones as she invited him in.
I'm sure the morning went well, both satisfied but the thought of Red coming made our Wolf uneasy. Sweet talking Grandma, who is sure she found her youth again takes his suggestion, as she accepts the $50 he slipped her, that the he sleep and gain back his energy while she goes into town to shop since she obviously felt better. Watching her drive away, he senses Red and hurries and scammers to find a disguise just before she knocks upon the door.
"Grandma! It's Red, can I come in?" she exclaims after several knocks on the door with no return.
Shoving himself into ruffles, a shower cap and sheets that smelled like sex the Wolf shouts for her to come in. "Grandma? You're voice is so rough, I'm so glad I got here in time, I have some goodies for you to make you feel better" as she pushed her way through not one but several to get to her bedroom door.
Along the way, the flamed haired little lady noticed clothes scattered about the floor including two empty martini glasses and plaid boxer shorts precariously dangling from a picture of Grandpa hanging crooked on the wall. Eye brow went up as curiosity peaked she wondered just what in the world Grandma was up to. Sitting next to the bed, Red tried with several attempts to get the covers lowered from Grandma's face. After almost giving up, Red slipped her hand into her basket and pulled out a piping hot muffin, pretending to devour the morsel herself. Not so much to her surprise, the covers fell down in temptation but the sight she looked upon rendered her in terror.
"Oh Grandma! What big eyes you have!" exclaimed the flame haired vixen.
"Better to see you with, my dear" said the big bad wolf as he licked his lips and groped himself under the covers…
Calming down a bit, Red saw through the rouse as she recognized the Wolf who so tame, obliging and gentle back in the forest. Sensing that he took advantage of her being naïve and not to mention her grandmother, she decided to play along just long enough to uncover, embarrass and teach Wolf a lesson.
"Oh Grandma! What are you doing under the sheets, do you have an itch since you can not stop moving?" Red said with almost a giggle "I'll get you something to sooth that." as she rushed into the bathroom. Poking about in Grandma's cupboards she finally found what she was looking for and returned with much haste. "Here let me sprinkle this on you" sitting back down on her stool.
"Oh dear me" the Wolf croaked as the idea of Red touching something that was obviously in the way made him uneasy. Stuttering, he begged her to cease and desist promising he could do that himself after a bit. Defeated, Red put down the powder and proceeded to decloak herself, placing the red hooded cape over the end of the bed. In doing so, the Wolf's problem under the sheets became more evident as Red bent over just a little bit too much in her attempt to get more of a rise out of him.
"Oh Grandma! You need a bib or something because you are foaming at the mouth, not to mention your breath stinks! What in the world have you been eating?" she chided as she sat back down on the stool, leaving her legs uncrossed. Her plan was working and she was proud of herself in her attempt to unmask the Wolf.
"No no no" stuttered the wolf even more as he could hardly contain himself any longer. "The cappuccino machine gave me too much foam and it keeps coming back up on me. I'll be ok, dear, I promise." He lied, lied, lied ! through his teeth and it became even more clear that he couldn't keep the plan a foot much longer. "Maybe, if you gave me something to drink, I'd be better"
Red, leaning forward a bit to lift herself from the stool, went to fetch 'Grandma' a sip as asked but stated on the way out the bedroom door that she would bring her her toothbrush and paste in hopes it would get the taste out of her mouth. As she came back, she couldn't help but gasp in disgust as Grandma was 'scratching' herself in up most speed and need. Caught he was, the Wolf jumped out of bed in claims that he couldn't keep up the disguise since Red turned out to be a tease and chased her around the room. Little Red, even though her intent was grand and with well intent, found herself in a situation she couldn't get herself out of.
Screaching blood curdling wails could be heard throughout the country side as the pursuit continued through the afternoon. Finally, someone brave enough to help poor Red's plight took it upon himself and with one shot, castrated the once Big Bad Wolf and left him crying on the floor for forgiveness. Whisked away by her savior, who was nothing but a hunter himself, Red was relieved to be rid of this menace and happy he was finally taught a lesson. Little did she know that she became the hunted herself as the very man who saved her was nothing more than a wolf in sheep's clothing.
So there you have it. Red in all her glory, the Wolf in all his afterthought and Grandma in all her afterglow tied up in the closet with nothing on but Grandpa's silk ties in a scene that was cut and fell upon the cutting room floor.
I dare say, but what is the moral of this story? Whether intended or not, the Brothers Grimm wrote a story to be handed down through the ages and has become a harsh morality tale warning women of the advances of men and becoming victims of well rehearsed intent. We see Red as the young woman almost eaten alive by a more experienced and devious foe. Grandma herself fell victim as well when encountered by the same line over and over and over again. Some take the bait and regret befalls them later, some wise up quickly to unmask those who prey. The Wolf himself was not entirely defeated since he got what he wanted but replaced by a more cunning adversary, the hunter.
So story told, story revealed, I say to all "Reds" to be weary of all the "Wolves" in hopes that they will not become a victim of their intentions. Wise up and take haste of this lesson and maybe the friendships later in life even with the Three Little Pigs won't fall to regret.
Have a nice day, ladies…
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Word to ya mutha!
4t night In da Crib
Poo: Wassup, Dawg?
Me : Yo Yo, ma homie…
Bubba: Sit in da squishie wit me and catch some Yoda
Me: Throw back some slice o roni?
Bubba: Ye'noit
Me: We be subwoofin and I got handcuffs, yo… bump it Uuuup ..:
Bubba: Sho thang
Poo: You is Furek Mamacita
Bubba: Word…
*Moments later*
Bubba: 7.4 on the Rectum scale! Ooooh yeeeeaaaah
Translated for the older folks….
Last night at home
Poo: Hey, Momma
Me: Hey there, Sweetie
Bubba: Wanna sit on the couch and watch Star Wars with me?
Me: Pizza's done, want to eat in the living room while we watch?
Bubba: Yeah
Me: Hey, Sweetie, my hands are full, would you turn the TV up?
Bubba: Sure
Poo: You're the best, Momma
Bubba: Word….
*Moments later*
Bubba: I farted! Ooooh Yeeeeaaaah
Yeah, explanatory…
Poo: Wassup, Dawg?
Me : Yo Yo, ma homie…
Bubba: Sit in da squishie wit me and catch some Yoda
Me: Throw back some slice o roni?
Bubba: Ye'noit
Me: We be subwoofin and I got handcuffs, yo… bump it Uuuup ..:
Bubba: Sho thang
Poo: You is Furek Mamacita
Bubba: Word…
*Moments later*
Bubba: 7.4 on the Rectum scale! Ooooh yeeeeaaaah
Translated for the older folks….
Last night at home
Poo: Hey, Momma
Me: Hey there, Sweetie
Bubba: Wanna sit on the couch and watch Star Wars with me?
Me: Pizza's done, want to eat in the living room while we watch?
Bubba: Yeah
Me: Hey, Sweetie, my hands are full, would you turn the TV up?
Bubba: Sure
Poo: You're the best, Momma
Bubba: Word….
*Moments later*
Bubba: I farted! Ooooh Yeeeeaaaah
Yeah, explanatory…
Saturday, September 1, 2007
Bangs head on desk...
Have you ever wondered why you do stupid things for no reason? It was a redundant question, dumb ass...
Take for instance…whyyyyyyy did I give so and so my email addy? Now I have 386 spam messages smashed into my inbox on an hourly basis… Act NOW and receive 1 yes 1! Million dollars by the end of the business day on the 5th Sunday every Month!!
Why did I do I bother getting dressed this morning? It's not like anyone important is going to see me but my children and pfft, they've seen me at my worst already. *scratches ass*
Any known reason why I decided to hold onto the metal part of the vacuum plug as I placed it with in the appropriate slot? ZZZZSST *twitch*
What happened to my common sense when I threw caution to the wind and walked to the mailbox without my over the shoulder boulder holder on? She's just a swingin'…
Do you think it normal that I watched an ant roam around in circles for about a half hour after I torched his antenna and thought it as interesting as the Daytona 500? They're makin' a left turn! OMG OMG OMG They're makin' another left turn!!!
Seriously considered finding out if a hamster could float…*girgle girgle blurb blub…unresponsive…floats*
When did it become customary and fashionable to wear Qutips in one's nose? *snort* Look ma! I'm a walrus!!
Is it entirely on purpose that hotdog buns only come in packages of 8? *Hey honey! Does this mean the two licked by the dog aren't edible?
Ever notice that you get your face bit off if you blow in a dog's face but take the mutt for a flippin' ride and she's got half her damn body hanging out the car window? Don't you dare scratch my car…don't slobber omg you just flinged snot on me!! *smells strangely of Oscar Meyer…*
Considering the fuel consumption vs price of said fuel, why did I flip off an SUV driver today as I flew by him wasting half my tank of gas? You son of a motherless cow, next time you wash your windshield and I'm behind you, Ima slit your tires!!
Who said Larry the Cable Guy could act? *click click PULL!* Yes I'm that close not watching it for the 10th time today…
And just why did I answer the cell when I was sitting on the throne? Who were you wanting? Oh yes, this is she. What can I do for you? *bowl rattling fart* Sure, I'll hold…
Me thinks that today needs to come to an end, my head hurts, I've wanted to go to bed since I got up today and the reason why I haven't thrown my ass back in there still eludes me considering my children were in bed 3 hours ago… Yes, I think this tops the whole shebang of stupid things I've done today so I'm going to bed. Good night, Gracie *falls asleep at the keyboard…* zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Take for instance…whyyyyyyy did I give so and so my email addy? Now I have 386 spam messages smashed into my inbox on an hourly basis… Act NOW and receive 1 yes 1! Million dollars by the end of the business day on the 5th Sunday every Month!!
Why did I do I bother getting dressed this morning? It's not like anyone important is going to see me but my children and pfft, they've seen me at my worst already. *scratches ass*
Any known reason why I decided to hold onto the metal part of the vacuum plug as I placed it with in the appropriate slot? ZZZZSST *twitch*
What happened to my common sense when I threw caution to the wind and walked to the mailbox without my over the shoulder boulder holder on? She's just a swingin'…
Do you think it normal that I watched an ant roam around in circles for about a half hour after I torched his antenna and thought it as interesting as the Daytona 500? They're makin' a left turn! OMG OMG OMG They're makin' another left turn!!!
Seriously considered finding out if a hamster could float…*girgle girgle blurb blub…unresponsive…floats*
When did it become customary and fashionable to wear Qutips in one's nose? *snort* Look ma! I'm a walrus!!
Is it entirely on purpose that hotdog buns only come in packages of 8? *Hey honey! Does this mean the two licked by the dog aren't edible?
Ever notice that you get your face bit off if you blow in a dog's face but take the mutt for a flippin' ride and she's got half her damn body hanging out the car window? Don't you dare scratch my car…don't slobber omg you just flinged snot on me!! *smells strangely of Oscar Meyer…*
Considering the fuel consumption vs price of said fuel, why did I flip off an SUV driver today as I flew by him wasting half my tank of gas? You son of a motherless cow, next time you wash your windshield and I'm behind you, Ima slit your tires!!
Who said Larry the Cable Guy could act? *click click PULL!* Yes I'm that close not watching it for the 10th time today…
And just why did I answer the cell when I was sitting on the throne? Who were you wanting? Oh yes, this is she. What can I do for you? *bowl rattling fart* Sure, I'll hold…
Me thinks that today needs to come to an end, my head hurts, I've wanted to go to bed since I got up today and the reason why I haven't thrown my ass back in there still eludes me considering my children were in bed 3 hours ago… Yes, I think this tops the whole shebang of stupid things I've done today so I'm going to bed. Good night, Gracie *falls asleep at the keyboard…* zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)