In the fairy tale;

She loves him forever, and he never knows. In the end of the story; He realizes he loves her too, and they ‘live happily ever after’. But that doesn’t happen in real life. In real life; He never sees her that way. And she is forced to move on. He is what he is, there is no changing that. If by some miraculous happening he does decide he wants her in return. It will only result in the inevitable unhappiness of both parties; Making each other miserable until they either give up, or die. That is how that story goes. So her love is misplaced, and she should just move on. But she still loves. He will never love her, because he ‘loves’ someone else. And her heart breaks thinking about it. Why does she still love him? Her life is better and more fulfilling without him. But women don’t make sense. Reasoning has little to do with love. Unconditional love in this respect is harmful. Not helpful to the lover. But no one wants to hear that story. People won’t pay money for an unhappy ending. Unless we as a people could see the silver lining. Her life is better without him. He didn’t even know she loved him. So he’s better off for not knowing. But even in moving on, she’s not truly moving on. In the back of her mind, she knows she’d run to him in an instant. She would be his if only he would ask. She fears she’d give up everything good for him. She would give up happiness to miserable with him. This isn’t merely speculation. She is truly fearful that it is fact. No matter how far she thinks she’s moved on. A mere mention of his name, she’s fawning again. She is stuck back again with her obsession. Her addiction ebbs at her. Her heart breaks again. But she holds it in, so no one knows how bad she’s got it. She tries to keep it to herself because she knows it’s wrong. It’s unhelpful, unhealthy. So she removes him. And he pops in again. Starting the vicious cycle over again. She will never be free, until she can find a way to move on for real.

The Mourning Means to Me.

Mourning the losses of what I don’t understand.

Why do I crumble when he just moves his hand?

A catapult of lies,

A tangle he weaves.

A breath of his air,

I drop to my knees.

The breaking of hearts so easily done,

Snap back to the past, where this ache does come from.

The kissing of words,

Chills up my spine,

Another night restless,

As he plays with my mind.

Cry out of the joy past the pain and the torment.

Remember the mourning for all that it meant.

I love ending with a call to Action!

I just saw pure awesomeness. And NO ONE is going to get it. That is what the Anglo’s did to the indigenous people of Africa. That’s what the Spanish did to the Native Americans. That’s what the Egyptians did to the Jews. The Romans did it to the Christians. Even the Nazi’s did it to the Jews. People taking over because the other has what they want, and/or they just don’t understand because the other is different. Uuuuugh! That makes me so mad. It makes me mad, not only because it continues to happen, but also because Hollywood feels the need to glamorize it over and over again. And NO ONE sees it. It breaks my heart. How can one people go in and say ‘I am better than you, so I am taking this because I said so.’ This movie kept bringing me back to Pocahontas. ‘You think the only people who are people, Are the people who look and think like you…’ exactly. Now this film was great for many reasons. The poignant details that were brought to light were thought provoking.

Cowboys and Indians!

Another point I was making here… the stab at modern day morality. This stab was a little more subtle. Not as much, hey you people don’t care, as much as, if you think about this, you might get it. The entire film was full of; you need to trust, and fight for the ONE you love… it will bind once for life. You can’t just keep binding and binding to everyone and anyone. We were meant to be monogamous. Be bound once in life. Now, I’m not saying that if you’ve screwed up, you are damned for all eternity and you need to become a nun/monk/whatever. What I’m saying is we were designed to be bound to one. Like in the film, with all of the creatures.

Now, I know that I’m typing this at 1:30 in the morning. And I’m not sure when I’ll be able to post this. However, what I am saying is close to my heart and needs to be said. What distressed me about the film is this; No one will see the direct similarities to reality as I do. Few will understand the struggle between the peoples in the film and our own histories. And our histories have a tendency to repeat themselves, for the simple fact that people don’t pay attention, and don’t care enough to try and change. Knowledge is Power. Do you have what it takes to grasp that knowledge to hold the power?

Happy Christmas Mexican Family

Christmas is...

I can't really answer that in a single statement. It changes every year. And it's been destroyed over time. People talk about keeping the meaning in the season, but that being an actuality is very hard to come by. Here's this: if you are expected to give something because someone else gave to you. and you're not wanting to get the bad end. You're just keeping up with the Jones' and you're not giving from your heart, and therefore not giving for the right reasons. It's no longer selfless though. So; my Selfish act for the season is to not give anything without meaning it. I also don't expect to receive anything. My mom said I shouldn't give up cold Turkey. But I've been thinking about this for a while. I have decided that If I choose to give at any time throughout the year... I will. And whomever I want to give to should be gracious and accept it. I don't like it when people don't accept what I offer. So if I'm offered something, I always accept. Almost always. I think I got off topic once again.

This Christmas, I'm trying to be 'in the spirit' for everyone's sake. But with Grandma being so ill and frail and old looking, and Muncle's hypochondria breeding with the facts of his illness... it's feeling a little dreary. So I'm here in the kitchen alone, blogging. At least I have a boyfriend at Christmas. That's a welcome first. There's not really much else I can do but sit for now. I could read my book. Or talk some more with the dreary overreacting Deb. I love my family. But We're all crazy. Not they're reading over my shoulder. Gahhhh!

Unsettled about being Unsure

Do you ever have that feeling that you know something's supposed to get done, but you're not sure what? Or you know you're supposed to do something? Or something is a little off? I'm kinda feeling that way right now. I think it's because I'm supposed to do something next time I'm online, and here I am, and I don't have any idea what that something may be. If anything at all.

How the mind doth wonder.

There is a school of thought that says I am just a crazy girl with no clue. But that school is wrong. I have a clue. I just don't know what to do with it.

I don't really know what it is I'm hoping will happen. I need a job. Not just need; NEED a job. Some sort of income. But I'm not wanting to 'sell out'. I'll take something working with design, art, music, books, or items made in the USA. But I can't do just any retail for money because of my conflict of interest. Poopy. I want a real job. But I'm soooo unqualified, and un-confident. I'd even do bartending. I mean; I did take that class. But I'm not outgoing enough to look for a job on my onesies. I could be outgoing, when I know what it is that is expected of me. I don't want a nothing job again. I want something I enjoy, or at least has some sort of purpose. Music is good. I have no idea. I could get by with a little help from my friends, but this is SoCal, and connections into anything aren't easily made. Chit! How my mind does wander... I hope it comes back soon. Helps me out. relieves me of this stressful circle of what to do's. How to be's. What am I thinking's. I don't think I'll ever be motivated enough to make my dreams a reality, because I don't have a concrete vision of what they are. I mean, my dreams I have when I sleep are more vivid than my life's at times. That is surely not helpful in the least. Plus, I just don't know how it's going to work out. At All.

Duck Dance Deal Breaker

So, I'm coming back to SoCal, and I'm now part of the school of thought that says that those who 'should' care, Don't. The people whose 'call' it is to love one another, don't give a flying F-bomb what the halibut I do, say, or am. Yes, they're only human. But they aggravated me. I'm so sick and tired of putting myself out there to be drop kicked back into the secular community because 'they' don't understand me. UUUuuugh!

Dear God, why are your people so dumb?

and then there's me. Full of hypocrisy. and shallow standards. Perfection is not so perfect. I have no idea anymore. I've been ruined. Crap! Bag! Dang! Nabit! Exactly.

Word Vomit onto an empty screen

What I'm going for right now is just thought vomit, so bear with me.

Should I stay or should I go now? I think that I could stay there. But then What am I doing with SoulShoes? I don't think I'll be able to find work in my field either here or there. My portfolio sucks... So bad! I'm not really qualified for anything. I can't even get a job in a bar. I'm so lame. I have that stupid bar tending class under my belt, but even the job placement people don't want to help me out. I want to Make RMI a real reality, but I've no gumption. And I'm full of fear. What do I do about Latin Steve Ruiz? If I go tomorrow, that'll be awkward. I'm missing the DM Christmas Party because the Caddy's being ornery. She won't start. I still think I should give her a name. But I can't think of a good enough one. A name worthy of the Caddy. And if I do come back here, I'd need a car, and a place to live and a job. If I stay there, I'd need a car, and a job, and a place to live. Same either way. I have good Non-christian friends there. and I have good non-christian friends here. And why did Moose re-request me as a friend? That means he was looking for me to realize that we weren't anymore. What is that about? I was thinking we were good with not being friends... I don't really want to deal with all that again. Even if I still think of him as a friend. And What is with SallieMae? I don't have enough money. I don't/didn't make enough money to live and pay them. and they don't seem to communicate with each other. asking for money on top of money on top of money, even though I already paid them. 187 days are not in two weeks. I could work in a library. I've always wanted to do that. But I'm probably not qualified for that either. I just want to be able to get by. Make the world a better place. Sing. Create. Gah! ... My arms hurt. It's cold. I finally have a bestie that thinks the same of me. And now I'm leaving. I'm seeing this really really great guy.... humpf!

Little known fact about me; I've never really thought/dreamed about my wedding. Yes, I've stated that before. and that's not the little known fact. The facts are; I've always thought I would just be best friends with someone, and we'd end up getting married. I would essentially marry my best friend. In Vegas. Yes, Vegas. Or something similar. Elopement I guess. But then I start thinking about ceremony's and it gets so convoluted, who would I invite, who would I tell? Where? Why? what would I wear? It gets to be too much that doesn't matter yet because it's not happening, and I shut down. Whatever.

Chew on that for a while. I've run out of words in my head. It's just going round and round... I'm sure there's more, but it's nothing pertaining to anything. Not that anything I say here really adds up to anything in the grand scheme of things.

A little bit of nothing.

I hate being confused. And if you know what's been happening, you know that I've been confused a lot lately. I thought the extreme confusion was over. and it was mostly. But now I'm dealing with new confusion. actually, it's old confusion. just again. But I don't want to dwell on that anymore. it's just a lot of me asking why? stupid moose.

ON another note; I need to find a job ASAP. And a car. And then what do I do about this 'relationship'? And I hate SallieMea. That's a side note though. My stomach hurts. Boys confuse me. I need a name for my ExBoyfriend. Poophead? no?

White t-shirt, Purple lace.

I was going to write about how it's a bad idea to make decisions when you've had alcohol and you're in certain types of moods. But then, I decided not to. I wrote out a scene describing an instance that would never happen too. But That's mine, and only mine. I then decided I should try and sober up, and make better decisions. Yep. I should. So; I didn't post the story/scene. It wasn't well written anyway. I'd be embarrassed by it tomorrow. I might be embarrassed by a few other things tomorrow too, but those things aren't detrimental to my well being. At least I think not. Unless, something goes horribly wrong. In which case I'd then be caught out in the cold. I'm good though, I can handle this. As long as no one does something unexpected. This is so vague and can be construed as misleading. I promise: this is nothing bad. Just personal.

Choosing the Choices that we Chose.

Have you ever felt like you made the wrong right choice? That what you decided could have been a little bit better? Not that what you did choose was entirely wrong. But that it's simply different. That no matter what you chose, It would have been alright? Has it ever happened that you feel apprehension after you felt so sure? I was almost 100%. Now I'm just 50%. That's not good. But I can't change the past. And I am happy with my choice. I just have this thought at the back of my head; what if I had made the other choice. I'm not 100% what I'm thinking anymore. This may all be the sum of my over thinking and over analysis of every situation. And/or the fact that it's the first time I've ever had to make a decision even remotely close to this type. Not that I expect to have to make it often. But, meh. I don't know. Have I confused you yet? This isn't even me confusing Confusion.

-Your Five O’clock Shadow Bit Me-

Will you call me if I do?

Will you call me if we don’t?

Don’t hurts more than do,

Initial outtake to be received.

Do hurts more than don’t,

The Backlash of regrets.

Your lies are quite pretty.

Conscience screams at me to run.

Two steps closer to your doorway.

Drunk scratches on a bare back.

The blankets are inviting.

Envelopment could be sweet.

Instinct yells at me to run now.

I cannot seem to move my feet.

Stop your hands from roaming.

A NO escapes my lips.

All reasons are now daunting.

Confusion seethes in my mind.

My body wants to do this.

Hormones catching up with reason.

We didn’t see it through.

Now I wait for which lies are true.

The waiting is what’s hardest.

The hurt that is my dues.

Chastising myself again.

Never let it go that far.

A cut from the 5 o’clock shadow,

Is my only scar today.

An empty spot on my heart,

Will be my soul ache for many tomorrows.

I think I confused confusion.

I hate being confused. This confused that I am. It doesn't even make sense. Yes, I know that statement makes little to no sense. But it really doesn't make sense. Let me explain; Have you ever really really liked someone, but were confused because you didn't want to like them as much as you do, and you can't put your finger on why you don't want to like them. Confused yet? I am. I think the confusion might be bred from and tied to my confusion and frustration with life choices that I'm dealing with at this point. That and my emotions are so in whack that I don't get them. They are doing what, in movies, they would be doing, if I were in a movie. This really sucks. I feel like a stupid silly girl. Not just a stupid girl, which I expect of myself. Uuuugh! I don't even know what I'm trying to say anymore. I don't want to give too much away. Which goes completely against what I was talking about in my previous post. But not in the same ways. That's confusing too... Like the music thing. What was with that. Why do I freeze up? I shut down and don't trust myself. My instincts are usually good. And what does it matter if they're wrong. In the Grand Scheme Of Things, does it change anything? Maybe. That's why I choke. So what is actually holding me back? Fear. But fear of what? Getting hurt? Being happy? Being able to Move on? Getting to a point, and then some teensy fact or not so teensy fact comes up and it ends? I have no idea. I am so confused.

The Reason for The Thought Process IS:

There have been several instances over the past while that I've thought to myself; 'you should blog this' but then I think about it. And I decide not to, because what I'd have to say may be taken the wrong way, and blown completely out of proportion. If it be fact or fiction, or just a random thought. I has the potential to be taken wrong. But That thought goes against the whole reason for having this blog. This blog is to chronicle my thoughts as I have them regardless of offense. I write my mind, because I'm not always encouraged to speak it. I am expected to be peaceable in real life. This is cyberlife. I am allowed to be myself here. I am allowed to believe what I believe, and blog what I want to blog. I am entitled to my own opinions, and experiences. Gah! If I don't have some sort of release. I'll be angry all of the time. Well, maybe not all of the time. But I'll be irritated with people, and their presence, and they won't even know why. If I can't work out my thoughts on my own time. I can't work out a way to deal with those thoughts in a way to make them constructive instead of; 'Gah! I Hate You!' which is not always true.

Oh Em Gee! This Is So Cliche!

I don't know why I'm so worried about it. It's not like I'm actively seeking him out. It's not as if I am prepared to make all of the changes and sacrifices that come with a commitment. But it still hurts. I am still alone. I can handle that. Most of the time, I am perfectly okay with that fact. But sometimes, The feeling rides on me. It balls itself up in the pit of my stomach, and makes life even more depressing. Not always, but sometimes. Maybe it's because I see how it has worked out for me in the past; meaning: not at all. And how others make it seem so, so, Not easy, but less difficult. I guess there's just that part of me that will always want to be loved and protected. There's that part of me that wants to commit and sacrifice for someone else, for an us factor. regardless if it's now, or not.

Maybe that's why I keep doing this to myself... that's not an answer... Maybe I keep thinking back to past non-possibilities because in my self pity there is desperation. Unfounded desperation, but desperation no less. I want something comfortable, and constant. something I know, but am still curious about. Something mysterious and deep. Something with someone I know that I will always love, AND be friends with. Something real.

The Part About This

The sad part about all of this; is how much I wanted to like him. The sad part is I was thinking the same things sober as I almost blurted drunk. The sad part; music makes it harder.

The worst part about this is knowing that it would never work out in the long run. The worst part is understanding that I can get there in my head, but in person, it will almost always stop in person before then. The worst part; these lyrics are convincing me otherwise.

The best part about all of this is finding out truths about me. The best part is talking with people because of my self pity and demise. The best part; knowing I’m strong enough to walk away, at least eventually.

Granted; this 'poem' sucks terribly... Thanks. :)

It's only a send button.

I am sitting here contemplating my demise. Not in a way that seems normal. Not in a way that most people would think of as a demise at all. I am contemplating pushing for something that I know will inevitably end badly. It started ok, and went bad day one. It will end badly. That’s not a feeling. That’s a fact. I am fretting over whether or not I will put my faith in mankind’s ability to change, and mold for others. If people are able to bend their wills to those of others, or not. If I do this, the ball will be off of me and in someone else’s court. But that could be the last straw to rejection. It’s only the matter of clicking a measly minuscule button or not at this point. But in that button is the future of my life as I know it. Do I take this chance? Do I run the other way? I should, and say Fear, it doesn’t matter what you think. I can handle the no if it comes. I can even handle being laughed at for trying. But can I handle it if it’s a yes? Can I cope if the vicious cycle that’s bound to come about with the yes, does come to fruition? I’m not sure I could handle the yes. So I wait… and contemplate. And fret. And over think. Just press the Damned button! It will mostly likely be a no. But what if it’s not?

They Think the Same, It Ends the Same.

I think it's funny how I let these things happen. Especially since I know exactly how they'll happen before they happen, and then they happen exactly the way I think that they will. There are so many 'smart' things I think of to say in situations like this. But they never seem to make it passed my lips. Lots of this has to do with me not being that kind of girl. I mean seriously; I don't think I look like that sort of girl. Maybe I do...

Maybe it has something to do with those it happens with. I have a theory behind that as well. The attractive ones think it'll be easy, because I'm NOT as attractive as them. The fat ugly ones have too much self confidence, or they think it'll be easy because no one else is trying. Regardless of the reasoning; They all end up wanting the same thing. They're guys.

This isn't actually what I wanted to say.

Empty promises are things that I tend to want to believe. But who doesn't? They sound good. they are designed to be believed. But in the end; I know they are empty. And I am glad that I don't always believe them. I chastise myself for believing them some of the time, and to the extent that I do. As soon as I hear them, I think I should run the other way, but stay a few minutes longer. Just to see how it will play out I guess. I do not regret leaving though. I just wish I could get my act together and leave when instinct tells me to.

Sometimes I wish the night would just go bust early, so I won't have to deal with this. Then I won't be the villain. That's terrible. Sometimes I want things to work out. But no one has the same ideals as me in this 21st century America. Therefore; it may never ever work out. So I'll go back to being alone. I know what I want. But I also know where I stand. I am just a mostly good girl. And I won't lie about my past. But if asked about it, they get the wrong ideas. My deep end was not as deep as others. But you can still drown yourself in the kiddie pool. Maybe if I just make a frowny face all the time, they'll leave me alone. Maybe if they actually read my about me; they would get the idea. I wrote it in all truthfulness. So here's the new idea. I will Not meet Mr. Right at a Bar or Club, on the street, or on MySpace.

Blah blah blah blahblah. I think I'll write a poem about this instance.

I've made my skin crawl too far this time.

There are rational and irrational fears. This may sound like a line from a movie. That's because it is. Several movies actually. But it is true. Right now I am afraid. I am afraid of something that is pretty irrational. I don't think I ever have rational fears. Regardless of this fact though, I am still afraid. I know that things like this scare me beyond reason. I know I should not partake in any sort of activity relating to it. But there are times when I feel it would be rude to say no. Maybe I should just be rude sometimes. I should admit to my wimpdome. I should back out, and accept defeat. Otherwise things like this happen. I get no sleep because irrationality plagues me when I close my eyes and turn my back. If my life were an horror movie. I'd be dead in the first 3 minutes. No joke. I would just like to be able to sleep without nightmares. I don't know how to get to that place. I feel terrible. I feel sick. I can't sleep, I can't even shut my eyes and relax. I want to cry because I know this is all so stupid, but I am helpless to change it. My imagination has every possible evil jumping out at me. This is why I said I don't do them.

Strays I Guess

This is what came of our 15 minute writing exercise in class this past week; enjoy:

”There will be mud on the carpet tonight.” She blurted with a stare and calm resignation coming into her face.

I don’t know why she has to speak this way. A way in which no one really understands what she’s talking about. Quoting random poets or authors. It’s just so damned confusing. I hate trying to figure out her subtle meanings. I never know what she has in mind. And I can’t ask about it. She’ll just get all butt hurt and bent out of shape.

So I search my mind quickly for the response she might be looking for. Nothing comes so I sigh and hand my head and ask;

“Why will there be mud on the carpet to>night?” she looks at me aghast.

“Honey don’t you know?” She stares at me as if I had a dunce cap stapled to my head. “There be a dog runnin’ loose in the streets today. And e’ry body know stray dogs always be windin’ up at my house. ‘Sides that, it’s been rainin’.” I really didn’t see that one coming. She turns back to do the dishes. “Shoot, ‘n’ I just got my carpets done. Those Stanley Steamer things ain’t cheap you know.”

With one brow raised. All I can do is stare at her back. Was she serious? It took me a minute to try and find some words again.

“You don’t have to let the dog in.” I said. She laughed a short laugh then mumbled under her breath. I leaned back in my chair at the table and tried to think about something less trivial.

After a time she spoke. “Ya know I’m the only one who can take care of them strays. Dogs, cat’s e’v’rythin. Look at you. You as stray as they ever be.”

If I could walk to everything, I wouldn't need to drive.

Hey! looky here. A student life center. And what do they have in a student life center? Computers! and what's a computer's main use these days in a place like a student life center? Connecting students to the Internet! Whoohoo! here I am, ON the INTERNET! This week in school, I have to bring in a piece for writer's workshop. It can be anything. an excerpt from a story, an essay, a poem, etc. But I can't figure what to bring in. If I bring in a poem, which one? if I bring an excerpt? from which story? and what part of that story? the stories I have are either too short to take an excerpt, or I can't decided a good way to break the story apart so that it won't be awkward. Oh Poo!! Help Me! I'm also needing to find a job. I don't really know what I was thinking. Trying to get into a specified field. I always feel sooooo inadequate when it comes to applying. I need to find a bar tending job, or just work in my own graphic design field. then I need to move close to that job. I just can't swing it. It would help if I were happy with my portfolio, or I know what the He!! I was doing for a bar. But My Portfolio is unhelpable right now, and I can't work on it without my computer, which still doesn't have a screen. I need a car, and a place to live, and my computer, and a job. And a good friend.

Good Advice and Gypsy's

And a Terrible song I wrote. Thinking about what Gypsy Said... Maybe she did do this; ish.

-Good Advice and Gypsy’s-

Pack the car when I’m 18.

They said that I would never leave.

I’d never break the mold of this small town.

I’ve proved them wrong times before.

Both chess club and homecoming court.

The way of thing it never tied me down.

Well life it is a funny thing.

For on the day I turned 18.

I went and turned their whole world upside down.

I packed up what little I had.

Left both the good and the bad.

I ran as far as I could go.

Where I’d stop’d be my new home.

Work for a dime and gain some trust.

To better learn ‘bout all of us.

Experience something never meant to be.

I’ll become that modern day gypsy.

I make a friend at a corner store.

Hear all about her life before.

Thought she’d never get a chance to live her life.

Three babies and a dead end job.

Her back aches and her feet they throb

Why is living, filling her with strife?

I got to thinking what I could do.

And introduced her to a guy I knew.

He just asked if she would be his wife.

-

Another day another tale.

I listen to the locals wail.

Why to bad things happen just to them?

I sometimes give them insights on.

How they’re not the only people who’ve been wronged.

That others might have it just as hard as them.

They don’t always like my good advice.

That’s about the time that I think twice.

Do I really like this line of work I’m in?

So I packed up what little I had.

Left both the good and the bad.

I ran as far as I could go.

Where I’d stop’d be my new home.

Work for a dime and gain some trust.

To better learn ‘bout all of us.

Experience something never meant to be.

I’ll become that modern day gypsy.

Sometimes though the town is nice.

I consider setting down some times.

Be more than just a waitress or a hand.

Become a local of a town.

But then I start to lookin’ round.

Experience is the nature of my plan.

If I stay what have I done?

To justify this path I’m on.

Like a bullet, I’ll be gone again.

I pack up what little I had.

Leave both the good and the bad.

I run as far as I can go.

Where I stop’ll be my new home.

Work for a dime and gain some trust.

To better learn ‘bout all of us.

Experience some things never meant to be.

I’ve become that modern day gypsy.

Things to Do Around the Mansion

So; I've started my Creative writing class. We had an in class 'assignment' I liked mine. It goes along with the idea of loosing sanity by solitude for VanPyre Mansion...

-Things to Do Around the Mansion-

There’s not much to do around the mansion.

Read, and re-read books.

Roam thru the old classrooms.

Dig for chalk in the teacher’s lounge.

Take a walk around the track and see who you’ll run into.

Look out the top story windows at the town below.

Drive past the front door.

Think.

Don’t Go Into Town.

Dance thru the hallways.

Do handstands and commune with teddy bears.

Shove yourself into a locker to see if you can get out.

Gaze off the balcony contemplating caterpillars below you.

Think.

Don’t Go Into Town.

Reminisce about real life.

Forget the names of people who knew you.

Research butterflies.

Cook raw veggies from the garden.

Learn to kick a touchdown.

Disconnect your thoughts.

Rummage through the old wrestling room for choir robes.

Let your imagination go wild.

Think.

Don’t Go Into Town.

Make up theories about the people you see.

Mold marzipan into villagers.

Rule a nation on your desktop.

Compute numbers for irrational purposes.

Laugh out loud so you don’t get scared.

Watch your back.

Look twice before rounding every corner.

Think.

Don’t Go Into Town.

Make friends with a Vampire.

Speak only in Rhyme.

Summon a demigod.

Feast on imported cheese from the kitchens.

Sit in every seat for two minutes.

Paint dinosaur scales on your arms.

Learn to play both sides in badminton.

Run.

Return to the Jedi mindset.

Invent a language for you and the ghosts to communicate.

Think.

Don’t Ever Go To Town.

My mirror has three shadows.

It's been a while. Life's had its ups and downs. There were plenty of things I could have vented about, or made note of. But life warranted it not so.

That said; I think my reflection is much better than my photo. And my shadow is better than my silhouette.

Catching up with the Catcher of Dogs

And here's the next part (what's written) of my story; The Dog Catcher:

I tried to press myself further into the clothes while trying to not move a muscle, and unable to blink. I could feel his eyes penetrating my resolve. It felt almost as if his eyes were willing me. Willing me to just leave my safe-haven and just come to him.

Why did he just sit there? Why did he not just get my life over with? That must be what he wanted. My mind raced. I tried to find a way out of this predicament. I found none. I was stuck. Chills ran up my spine at this realization.

In that instant, I could feel the cold sweat on my skin and the heart beat in both mine and Scotty’s chests. I could hear the ticking of the clocks throughout the house, and the low din of the TV still on in the sitting room. The sound of the wind as it lightly rustled the leaves outside my windows, and the sound of the few cars that passed by on the street. I could hear the low melodic breathing that cam from Boyd as he stared unblinkingly, building the suspense until my end.

.

Then there was new sound. Boyd cleared his throat. “’tseems we’ve got company.” He announced with his grin. The sound was a car turning off the street into our drive. Boyd slowly got up off the bed and made his way around it. “Now don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back with friends.” He winked as he walked passed.

The car that had turned into the drive now cut the engine, followed by the slamming of two car doors and their footsteps on the walk. Whoever this was; they should not have been here. I wanted to shout out to them to help. But I also wanted them to run for their lives while they still could. I did not know what Boyd had concocted in those few moments, for our untimely visitors.

.

I was nudging my way further back in my closet attempting to think my way out of this as quickly as possible, before Boyd got back. Then I resolved to try and find a way out. I put Scotty down on the floor of the closet. He backed into the corner and sniffed at the back walls. I whispered for him to stay and be quiet.

I slowly let myself out of the closet and rushed to the windows. The storm windows were still on. We could not get out the way. Why was mine ht only room without access to a balcony up here? I tiptoed towards the door and tried to turn the knob, while straining to hear where Boyd and our visitors were.

The door was locked. Why could I not get though this locked door if he could? I couldn’t hear anything from downstairs, until I heard the volume on the TV go up. The front door hadn’t been opened yet, so he must have sat down. This was getting stranger by the minute. I was about to turn the lock when the doorbell rang.

.

Scotty barked out. I shushed him. If I could not save us, I at least didn’t want to be the cause of yet another death. The Bedroom door would not open.

The doorbell rand again, and its ringer knocked in persistence. “I’m comin’, I’m comin’.” Boyd called out.

I imagined him making his way over to the door with his evil grin and Joe splattered shirt. I could see in my mind the look on the faces of whoever this was, as they looked at the blood that covered Boyd’s face and body when he would open the door. Scotty started to whimper. He pawed at the back wall. It looked like he was trying to dig his way out of this.

I went to him to try and make him quiet down. This is when I saw a seam in the wall. There was also a lip on the floor. Not very noticeable, but it looked like it was there to keep the wall even. I ran my finger along the break. The faintest draft wafted through it. The seam went all the way around in the shape of a square barley wider than a body. I pushed on it. Nothing happened.

.

I was at my wits end, and out of ideas. The bedroom door would not open, even after I turned the lock. The windows were double payned. The storms were “shatter proof.” I couldn’t even break the glass to get out. Not that out the window led anywhere but the outside of a high second story. I stopped my fruitless effort of trying to push on the wall. I turned and re-locked us back into the closet, then slumped down behind the clothes against the wall. In a fit of frustration, I kicked at the corner of the door frame. I heard a weird click, and then put both my hands on the ground bracing myself for whatever was coming next.

.

Downstairs I heard the front door open. But no screams followed. They were talking! Maybe Boyd had cleaned up. I hadn’t heard the water run, but in my present state I may have missed that.

I leaned forward to try and hear better through he closest air vent. I must have pressed down too hard on the lip on the floor, because it slid down from my palm. This startled me, so I turned around to see it. The lip had submerged completely into the floor. I heard a loud outburst of laughter from below me. It sounded as if they had moved away from the door into the living room. The sudden slam of the door confirmed this suspicion for me. Scotty started nudging at the crevice again with his nose. I was too confused to stop him now.

Who was here? Why were they laughing? Didn’t Boyd just kill my Joe? Wasn’t he planning on killing me too? What was going on?!

.

I slumped back against the wall once again and it promptly gave way. I had to stifle my own surprised yelp this time. The hole in the wall was now most obviously a door. I could see that now. It opened to the side and led into a very narrow hall that led to a spiral staircase. Scotty was now wriggling with excitement. I’m sure me being in the way is all that kept him from shooting down into it.

Before I moved, I strained to hear where Boyd and his guests were again. It sounded like they were still below us in the living room, and still speaking heartily. I did not recognize the voices, now that I could hear them more clearly, as if they were now directly below me. One of the voices was a deep bellow. It was a hearty and throaty voice of someone like a Cadillac dealer or a ranch owner, though I could not make out what they were saying yet. The other voice to my amazement was a woman’s dark voice.

I managed to squeeze myself into the hole of the wall, and I found I could stand on the other side. Scotty shot past me and down the stairs as stood as I was out of the way. I tried to examine the door a little, to see if we could get back through that way if needed. I could not feel a handle on my side. While running my fingers along the sides, it slipped from my grasp. There was a click when it slid back into place, leaving me in the dark.

Is It Too Late To Change?

Why is this so difficult? It's soooooo tedious and boring. And people just like to assume which is frustrating. Why do people want to think so little of me? Seriously?! MY GOSH!

My first problem; right now; is finding fabrics made in the USA. It is so hard. There is one place so far that I can find who sells wholesale knits. There is one other who does Velvets... So hard. Next, I need to also find Notions Made in the USA. Not happening... And then there's the whole designing the clothes thing. Which, I can't do until I decide which niche I want to fill. This is all fine. But then I ask people to help; and they all assume I'm just screen printing t-shirts. Really? You think I am just here to follow a trend? No! I am here to fill a need. And to create awareness about what America is doing to itself.

Have I gone over my 'theory' yet? Well here it is; If you take the jobs away from the Americans, they have no income. No income means they have to money to spend, no money to spend means the economy suffers. So; when a few business men decided it would be more lucrative to move manufacturing abroad, they in turn pissed on the American people. Took away their jobs and means for survival, and have killed the economy in the meantime. It's simple really. I can't understand why no one else sees what's happening. I've seen it for a long time. But what could I have done as a 11 year old? Not much, but as a thriving young person; There is much. One thing was to STOP BUYING NON-AMERICAN PRODUCTS. Next is to create a company, that hopefully will one day create jobs for Americans. We'll have to see how it goes. I just hope I'm not too too late.

Confessions Between Roommates

And here's the first version of the story... from a conversational standpoint. First Person. Tale of a turned;

I awoke groggily after a night of partying. I didn’t know what time it was, but hoped it was still Sunday. The beloved hangover and agonies of drinking too much graced my countenance yet again. I didn’t always do this, but it happened so often now, I could no longer lie and say I wasn't really someone who did these things.

It started like any other weekend, Thursday and Friday, go out and drink a lot with friends, but not too much. Then attempt to stay In on Saturday for some random reason. Followed by the roommates’ tactics at dissuading me from my seclusion and my inevitable acceptance to go out.

I got all dolled up, I don't know why, but I always do, and swore I'd only drink a little, if at all. Lies! Yes, we pre-game. I said no. They poured me a shot. I said no. They handed me the shot. I said I didn’t really want it. They said "take the shot." I took the shot. I always take the shot. This happened the usual four or five times before we headed out.

When we got to Lacy's favorite club, I didn’t want to drink anymore. I changed my resolve to: I'm not buying them, but If someone else hands It to me; down the hatch.

It is shortly after this that my memory starts to fuzz. So I stumble out to the living room, where I hear the din of the television, and I know my chair and throw are waiting for me.

"Good Morning Sunshine. Did you sleep well?" Lacy spouted in her overly peppy, I didn’t get a hangover and you did, voice.

"What time Is It?" I grumbled, as I fell into my chair.

"Half past twoish." she sang. "You look like you've had a rough coupla nights."

"Tell me about it." I cringed and clamped my eyes shut. "How much did I drink?"

"I don't know, I kInda lost track of you after you danced off with that one guy."

"What one guy?" I peeked at her through one squinted eye.

"That guy you danced with for most of the night. You know that guy you said bit you." I froze. "Seriously, I don't know how you manage it. If I were as kinky as you at the clubs, I'd have to go home with the guys; I wouldn't have them wishing me well like you do." That was true, I'd tended to drink too much sometimes, and let the guys get their hopes up, then be able to simply walk away.

"Someone bit me?" weird, I didn’t remember.

"That's what you said on the way home." She was watching the Images on the TV. Apparently uninterested in my plight. "I didn’t see any bite marks or anything, but you did have some blood on your shirt." She looked back at me. "Yeah, that shirt. Right there." She pointed at my shoulder. I followed her finger with my eyes. Sure enough, I did have a small spot of what did seem to be blood there. I didn’t really remember it. But I did get that weird feeling I usually get, that everything she's saying is true, when she lets me know what happened when I was hammered. "Deeds said your guy had one too. Swapping blood as well as spit, are we?" She grinned over at me as she repositioned herself on the sofa.

"Uugh! I don't remember a guy!" I said as I buried my head in my lap. "What else did I do?"

"Not really sure, I was a little preoccupied most of the time by Bobby." Bobby was her fiancé slash boyfriend of who knows how many years. Drop dead gorgeous like herself, just both unwilling to tie the knot legally. That and they liked to swing. I didn’t approve, but that was their only fault as great roommates and friends. I rolled my eyes. "Why don't you ask Deedee?"

Right on queue and as usual, Deedee walked through the door. Both Lacy and I looked up at her in the door way, as she narrowly blocked the blazing sunlight.

"What?" she said. "Do I have something on my face?"

"How does she do that? How does she always know when someone’s here before they actually arrive?" I marveled.

"You'd have to ask her that." Deedee glared over at Lacy, who merely shrugged.

"Why don't you let Lizzette know what she did last night? You said you were pretty close most of the evening." Lacy said.

"Playing wallflower, no doubt." I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes.

"What?! I can't help It If I'm always left to play your beloved roll. If you had more willpower or an even higher tolerance for alcohol, maybe you could hug the walls sometime. Besides someone has to be responsible." She took off her coat and sat on the other end of the sofa. I could never understand how these two could dress so heavily in the summer. I though I had no summer wardrobe. These two pale beauties never left the house without just about every Inch of skin covered during the day. You'd think they were Goth if they weren't so peppy.

"So Deeds, What did I do last night?" The two exchanged a look and a grin. Evil roommates!

"Well, what do you remember?" Deedee began. "Let's start there, and I'll fill in the rest with what I know and saw."

I cocked my head and rolled my eyes. "Let's see... Hmmmm..." I got Into my pho-psychiatrist pose; Crossed my ankle over my knee, pursed my lips, put my elbows on the arms of my chair, and pressed my finger tips together. Lacy giggled. "Well, I'm pretty sure I remember everything with the four of us here. I took... four? shots. Then we drove out to the club. Yes?" They nodded. "We got there; Bobby dropped us out front, then went to park. He met us at the front like five minutes after the cut off to get in free. Then Deeds flirted us in, by talking to her favorite security guard Lester. Did you get his number?"

"Uh-huh. Called him too... We're going out on Wednesday." She confessed.

"Oh goody!" Lacy giggled. "You didn’t tell me that."

"I talked to him while I was out just now. It's a wonderful thing, these cell phones."

They both laughed. "Well, you'll have to tell us all about it after Liz finds out her own story." Lacy said as she turned back and waved her hand for me to continue.

"Anyways... Where was I?"

"I flirted us in."

"Oh yes. After we got In, I told you both I want' drinking unless someone else bought me a drink." they exchanged a knowing look. "Then you both proceeded to purchase me one consecutively. Having Bobby tack on a third for good measure."

"Well you can't just have two, that's bad manners." Lacy joked.

"That goes without saying, three is a charm." Deedee offered. "Three drinks Is better than two." They both motioned for me to continue. Grins wide upon their faces.

"Then... I think, did we see the Italian?" Deedee nodded, Lacy shrugged. The Italian was a regular and a nuisance. He was hitting on at least one of us each time we went there. "I'm pretty sure he bought me one." I squinted trying to remember the sequence of events that followed. "Then we all went to the dance floor... Well, had been on the dance floor... I think that's when a creeper stared dancing up on me." Their grins widened. I scowled and tried to continue. "Umm... I think I gave him my; I'm charming but not Interested smile."

"That you did." Lacy Interjected.

"And then I went to the bathroom... Deeds, you stood In line with me right?"

"Uh-huh." She nodded.

"I don't remember..." I said slowly shaking my head. "What happened next? Jog my memory."

"Well." Deeds continued. "Charles was there. You remember Charles? That guy from the first time you got crazy and made out with some random guy." I nodded in amused shame. "Well, he was there. And I know he bought you one. Then you two went to the dance floor together. I saw Brandon and went to talk to him..."

"Bobby and I were on the dance floor." Lacy picked up. "You danced with Charles, for gosh, I don't know, like twenty minutes?" She looked at Deedee for confirmation, which nodded and shrugged. "Yeah, like twenty minutes. Then some guy, some random guy grabbed your ass. You spun round and just smacked him." She laughed.

"I did what? Who did I hit?"

"I don't know. His face was all in shock, and he just walked away. You just yelled after him; 'Oh Heeelllll No!' Has to be the funniest thing I'd seen in a long time." I covered my face in disbelief as she laughed, though I got glimpses of a memory of it as she spoke. "You would have probably beat him up too If Charles hadn't pulled you back."

"Really?! I peeked through my fingers.

"Really. Bobby said you coulda taken him. Probably could have. After that, Charles left you to, I don't know, get drinks or take a piss, or something, and some other guy comes up, handed you a drink, and just took his place."

"Just took his place." I repeated. "Just handed me a drink, and I drank it, and danced with him?"

"Pretty much." she shrugged.

"Great guys, how'd he look? Like a serial rapist, or an Easter bunny?"

"Oh calm down. He seemed harmless enough. And no one ever lets you actually leave with these guys. Besides, remember that guy who didn’t even want to leave?" I cringed, I remembered. "You had no real problems warding him off on your own."

"That was so wrong." I reflected. "I was trashed that night, but he wasn't even that good looking. And his lies were pretty unbelievable... I didn’t even do anything with him. I just walked away."

"Precisely. We're not too worried 'bout you."

"Thanks Deeds."

"Anytime."

"Anywho. Charles came back and looked pretty upset; I think they had some words. But then Charles just left." I threw my head back in exasperation. Just. "You wondered off into the crowd of bodies with him." she finished.

We sat in silence for a minute while the dog next door barked at what sounded like the mailman.

"Oh, You know what?!" Lacy suddenly gasped. "I think that one guy was the first guy." Deedee and I both cocked our heads in confusion. "The guy you said was a creeper. The first guy who danced on you!" A look of surprised alarm glimpsed on Deedee's face. I just looked down right confused.

"I don't know about that" I finally spoke. "But, whoever he was, He was a good kisser." They both turned to me in shock.

"I thought you didn’t remember." Lacy chided.

"I didn’t. I don't. Not really. You tellin' me is helping though..." I turned so I wasn’t facing their gaped mouth stares head on. "Deeds, Lacy said to ask you what happened after I wondered off with the one guy." I spoke in the direction of the TV.

She grinned again. "Yes, I saw a lot. Actually I knew you kissed him. I was jamming over by the DJ. You know those tables and the crevice to the left of his box, where there's still dancing, but people either sit or make-out undetected." She clarified. "I was just sitting... chill axing, you know." She cleared the air with her hands. "You two come over and were dancing and making out for a long while. Rubbing and the usch."

"Uh-huh..." I didn’t think I wanted to remember this.

"Yeah. Well, it looked like he was necking on you after a while. I mean really necking..." She evil grinned. "Then you had this look of, of, well, not exactly ecstasy, and not... Surprise, but something like; shock and pleasure. Well, you got that look, then the; Pissed, I'm making a resolve, look. Then you necked him. Weird. I don't know. Just saying what I saw. Weird."

"Oh my gosh!" Sudden recollection hit me. "Son-u-a-bitch bit me." slight shock graced both my roommates’ faces. I wasn't watching them though, I was lost in remembering. "So I bit him back."

They were silent at this for a time. "Bobby's here." Lacy finally eeked out.

"What? What I day?" I was brought back from my reverie by the tone in her voice. "He bit me. I was drunk and decided payback was best." their faces automatically changed to normal, but something was wrong.

The door then opened and Bobby bounded In. "Look who's finally up!"

"HI Bobby." I turned to him. "Did you know someone bit me?"

"What? Who?" A look of disgusted disbelief passed through his eyes as he looked over at the girls. Bobby then got that same look the girls had had, but recovered quicker.

I decided to blow it off for now, until I knew what else happened that night. I was pretty sure I just sat down after that and waited till Deeds or Lacy dragged me out...

"After a while you and he sat down. Made out some more. Then creeper sooner or later left you... He mighta been coming back, I dunno." Deedee stated emotionlessly.

"Then Bobby went and found you two to leave. I noticed the blood on your shirt. Then we threw you in bed cuz you passed out on the way home." Lacy finished.

"Seriously girl! You would make easy prey. Good thing the three of us are here for you." Said Bobby. I smiled my thanks. The three of them exchanged another look.

"Ok, what? You two have been doing that all day. What already?!"

"Doing what?" Deedee protested and played at Innocence.

"That look! The look you all are sharing."

"What look? We're not sharing a look." They all stared at me. "Are you sharing a look?" Lacy turned to the others.

"I'm not sharing a look." Bobby put in.

"I'm not either." Deedee put her hands up in surrender.

"Oh! My! Gosh!" I rolled my eyes. "Just tell me."

After a few moments of silence Deedee cleared her throat. "Okay, maybe we were In fact sharing a look. And let's say, just for argument's sake, that it was a look of Importance. And maybe, maybe that important thing might possibly have something to do with the three of us, and what we, we three, have In common. And maybe, there is the slightest bit of a chance that this thing, may now Involve you."

"What are you talking about?" My mind was now busy in the confusion she was spinning at me.

"The thing is..." She continued. "The think is... Bobby?" She looked at him. He threw his hands up.

"I won't be good at it." He confessed. So she turned to Lacy.

"I'll try." She sighed. "Lizzette dear." She turned to look straight at me. "Have you ever noticed... No, have you wondered." She paused, already lost for words. I raised my eyebrows waiting. "Do you know what day It Is?"

This question seemed moot. "Isn't It Sunday?" a weird sort of smile, like she had to tell me my dog had just died and didn’t want to alarm me, was now on her face.

"Lizzy, sweetie. It's Tuesday." She paused to gauge my reaction.

"Tuesday!" I yelped. "I slept for two and a half days?!" I didn’t have to work until Thursday, but missing three days of ones life is no small matter. "I gotta go to the bathroom." I said as I ran off in its' direction.

I pondered what I'd just learned, while dropping the biggest load of my life. Two and a half days unconscious! Why was I not craving food? Wait, I was hungry. No, hungry was not the word. Famished. I had a gnawing in me that I needed some sort of nutrients, but I only noticed it now. True, I'd had a desire to find nourishment for a while now, but I was used to suppressing my desires. I also contemplated the look my roommates gave each other. We three were like a corrupt little family. Sisters. Amigas. Bobby was a more than welcome best guy friend turned brother in law. What secret could the three of them possibly have from me? Why did they freak when I told them I'd bit the guy. Well, never mind that. Biting the guy was a little strange. But he'd bit me!

When I returned from the lavatory, the three were sitting with heads close together, deep in conversation. Each took turn to look up at me as I made my way in, sat down, and stared at them with one brow raised. All the while their voices were barely above an audible whisper. Too low for me to hear, or understand.

Apparently they had come to an agreement. They all sat back at once, looking resolved in something. Bobby nodded to Lacy who then turned to Deedee. Deeds nodded as well and then all three turned to me.

"Am I on trial here?" I joked, trying to ease the tension that had built in the room.

"No Liz." she stated serenely. "I'm afraid judgment’s already passed. A fair trial was not given, and a jury of your peers was not present."

"Um mmmokay..." I said quizzically.

"I'm going to tell you something. It may sound unbelievable, but just hear me out. Please don't Interrupt, or stop listening. Just hear what I've got to say. Can you do that?"

I nodded. How could I deny her any request when she was so sincere?

"I'm sure you've noticed that the three of us have some pretty strange habits. I'm sure there are many things that we do that seem very strange." I waited as she collected her thoughts. "You no doubt, noticed our more nocturnal habits, how we can go out every night, and never be tired. How we wear lots of heavy clothing year round, how we never ever eat here at the apartment. How I now when someone's coming before they arrive, how we're pasty beyond all reason..." She went on and on, pointing out every strange thing about them. Every tendency that I'd wondered at, every action, even those I’d dismissed as fluke. "Well, my dearest. Oh gosh, I don't really know how to put this so you won't freak out. We three; are Vampires." She stopped here. The three of them awaited my reaction.

After a moment or two's silence, I couldn't hold it in any longer. I guffawed. I simply had to laugh. "Good one Lacy!" She looked stern, I continued. "Vampires! What next? The Boogeyman ate my homework... Oh gosh! That's classic!"

They weren't laughing. A worry creased between Deedee's eyebrows.

"We're not telling you a joke. And we're not trying to freak you out. We are concerned. We're pretty sure your random creeper was one too."

"A vampire?" That'd explain why they freaked out when I said he'd bit me. But this was all ludicrous.

"Yes, a vampire." Deedee looked almost hurt.

"We didn’t think anything of it because; you've slept for two days before. We thought you were just beating your record." Lacy said. "And I guess we weren't 100% that he was the vampire at the club. You were most obviously with us, I don't know why he'd try and tap you."

"And we had no Idea you'd bite him back." Deedee cut in.

"So What... You think I'm going to become a vampire now too?" I said in hysterics. Obviously peeved and obviously no believing.

"Not becoming one. Are one." Joe finally spoke up. "Your heart beat sounds like theirs now." he pointed at the girls.

I rolled my eyes after a moment’s contemplation. "Fine, let's say that I believe you, which I don't. Why do you have me as a roommate? Why didn’t you drain me?"

"Because we like you." Lacy offered with a smile. "We all became friends in school. You're pretty sweet. We care about you. We would never ever hurt you or use you like that." Deedee nodded In agreement.

"Sure." I had no Idea where to go from here. What did I know about vampires? Just what I'd seen in movies and on TV mostly. There's a cult of people who believe they're vampires, but are pretty much just Goths wanting to belong to something. There are myths and legends up to wazoo. There's that whole thing about Vlad Tepes, now he was a messed up son-u-a-bitch. I had nothing to ask. So I just sat there. Completely not believing them.

"I know this is a lot to take in." Lacy broke into my reverie. "If you have any questions please ask them." Her voice was soft and sweet. "What are you thinking? We don't read minds." She smiled.

"No?" Questions started flooding me. On the forefront; what sort of sick game is this? But I couldn't ask that. They all seemed so genuine. I'd just have to plan an escape form these loonies. Oh my gosh, I was so hungry. I got up.

"Where are you going?" Deedee asked.

"I think I'm hungry." I continued towards the kitchen. "Apparently I haven't eaten in nearly three days."

"You won't find anything useful in there." Bobby called after me.

"Sure I will. My grapes should be good till at least Thursday. I heard an exasperated sigh from the living room.

I pulled the grapes from the crisper. Still good. And that looked like the only thing in the fridge, so they'd have to do.

I popped a couple in my mouth the started to convulse once I swallowed. The three of them were all a sudden there to watch me. Deedee and Bobby wore I told you so grins. Lacy's face was wrought with concern.

"What the Hell?!" I spat once my mouth was free of previously chewed grapes. "You'd think after three days I’d be able to keep something down. I can't possibly still be hangover."

"You're not." Deedee beamed.

"Oh yes. I'm now a vampire." I said this seethed in sarcasm, air quotes and all. I sat and held my head in my hands. They all moved to stand more comfortably throughout the kitchen. "Then why do I not crave blood?" I murmured, still hanging my head there.

"You don't know that's what your body needs yet. It's rejecting food. That's a sign. Once you do feed, or you don't feed and let the need fester, you'll start craving it. But you won't be able to put a name to it till you've satisfied the need." Explained Deedee.

"Like the need for Chocolate. Kinda." Lacy piped in, smiling again. I just looked at her, brows raised again. "You don't know you'll love it so much, until you have it. Then you start to crave it!" Her face fell all of a sudden. "I miss chocolate."

"You buy chocolate all the time!" I retorted.

"I can still enjoy the smell! But I can't eat it."

"What do you do with it?" She just gave a guilty grin.

Deedee's Confession

So... on the Forum... There's a thread called Tales of the Turned. I had a good idea for a story. So I wrote the general idea of it. Then I let it fester. Now I have it spinning in my head from 4-5 different points of view. I've written down two of them. Here's one of them... It's in a confessional form. And is called Confessions of a Roommate; Version 2; Deedee's Confession. Here goes;

I don’t really remember my turning. I mean, I do remember being turned, don’t get me wrong, but it was so long ago, and I never really made a big deal out of it. So; Whatever…

My one roommate on the other hand; she was pretty freaked out. Actually, she’s still pretty freaked out. I guess she’s in the state, we like to call denial. Or grief. I don’t know.

I didn’t turn her. We still don’t know who the guy was who did. We can’t figure who’d have the audacity to turn a girl who hangs out with three, almost ancient vampires. Sure, she didn’t know, but still! Who does that?!

Anyway… It happened about a month ago now. We still can’t find the guy. Bobby’s got a search going for him… But he’s left a trail thinner than air. We should have paid closer attention. That’s 20/20 hindsight.

We all went out clubbing as our usual Saturday tradition called for us to do. Lizette drank too much. Again. Danced with random guys, accepted drinks from whomever, and kissed, or made out with those she danced with. Yes, stupid, and normal drunken behavior. Lacy, Bobby and I usually keep a pretty close eye on her. She doesn’t get into too much trouble.

That night we weren’t on our game though, and some bloodsucker tapped her. Stupid, stupid girl! She bit him back. Why? I’ll never understand. Oh, the good ideas of drunk people…

I’m not sure why we didn’t notice the guy was a vampire. We did know there were others there, at the club. There’s always at least one other when we go there. I can’t figure why we didn’t pick up that it was this dude. Why!? … Seriously? Seriously.

In retrospect; we kept Lizzy almost like a pet… I wonder why she never guessed it. That Her Roommates weren’t exactly normal. Personally I think there were plenty of indicators…

We wanted to tell her. Bobby always talked about turning her, but Lacy was dead against it. Ha… dead against it. Dead...

Anywho, Where was I? Oh yes… the tie breaker was left up to me... I was putting off making the decision to tell her, and how, as long as possible.

We love Lizzy like a sister. She’s our best friend. We’ve lived together with her, for only about year, but have known her for, let’s say four more than that. Our whole, never changing thing was eventually going to come up. I didn't want to hurt her though, and we wanted her to have a choice.

But we never got the chance to tell her what we were. And she never got a choice, to become it. Besides her drunken decision to bite back. But, she didn’t know what she was biting into.

She was so funny when we told her. She tried with all of her logic and reasoning to figure out what had happened… and she desperately tried to explain it away. Watching her try to act normal was a riot. The thing with the grapes… You shoulda seen the look on her face… poor girl.

She’s been in bed again for; oh, about three days straight. She hadn’t gotten up except to go to work, or it woulda been for; since we told her. She’s pretty much been keeping to herself, and avoiding me at all costs. Having to drink blood that first time put her over the edge. And I had to give it to her, so it’s all my fault.

She’ll come out of this stupor eventually. I hope. No one wants an eternal mope for a roommate.