Sorry, but I'm going to have to pass on #FridayFlash this week!
I spent all day wrapping up the loose ends of my school's scholarship application, photocopying documents, turning them in. And then I spent hours tweaking my resume, filling out applications, writing cover letters - all for four jobs. All of them had upcoming deadlines. I'm crossing my fingers that something pans out because they all sounded rad.
Tomorrow I get up at an ungodly early hour to catch the train to the airport for an early morning flight to spend the weekend in Baltimore at a leadership training for the National Federation of the Blind. And I haven't even started packing!
It's going to be a crazy weekend with a lot of time spent on planes (I have a layover each way), and right after I get back, during music class on Monday, I have to do my first solo performance (standing in a group, but singing solo). LOTS going on!
So yeah, no flash this week, but after I get back I will cycle through and read others' flashes. I may have to skip next week too - Thursday is my 29th birthday so I might be occupied, or hungover or otherwise incapacitated!
Have a great weekend everyone. Linda, I hope to see you! People on Orcas: go to Janet Thomas' reading @ Darvill's on tomorrow, the 29th @ 7pm. I am so envious and wish I could be there, so GO! It'll be great. And people in Portland, there is a show tomorrow night on Belmont & 30th (maybe 31st) with five bands. It sounds really awesome, and it's at a place that is in danger of going out of business, so go and support! Also, a girl from my class is playing and backup singing at the show (and she has points in my book b/c during one of our classes, discussing different vocal techniques, she brought up Alice in Chains' "Rooster" and Layne Staley's voice as a perfect example).
Currently Listening:
"Get Home" - Sarah Slean - I FINALLY took my friend Leo's advice and checked this chick out, and I can't believe I waited this long. She's pretty awesome. Her voice is full and expressive and I like her words. I keep having the sense like I've heard her before, especially this song, but I don't know where or when, or if that's just a figment of my imagination. I've been stuck on this song, it grabs you right away. She's a powerful vocalist.
You can stay the night
You can look me in the eye
You can fake your way
To the finish line
But don't you dare profess to love me
When you're lying to another
That's not love, that's just wishin'
Wish and love are not the same thing, yeah
Get home, get home
Take a look at her
You know, you know
That you love her
Mr. Masquerade
Getting good at this charade
Go on fool yourself
With talk of poetry
Don't you dare pretend you're sorry
To me, you're just a tourist
You've gotta stand next to the real one
Cuz you know you'll never be one, yeah
Get home, get home
Nothing more to say
You know, you know
That you'll never change
Oh you'll never change
I don't play the game
With liars and cowards
Liars and cowards
Liars and cowards
Like you
Get home, get home
Nothing more to say
You know, you know
That you'll never change
Oh you'll never change
I don't play the game
With liars and cowards
Liars and cowards
Liars and cowards
Like you
Showing posts with label #FridayFlash. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #FridayFlash. Show all posts
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Germs on the Playground (Or, Constant Eclipse - Flash Two)
During recess on the playground, I played with my best friend Lisa, a quiet girl with the straightest, longest brown hair in our grade. We sat in a tunnel and played Outer Space, which meant we named ourselves after planets.
“Do you like New Kids on the Block?” she asked me.
“What’s that, Mercury?”
“A music group. Everyone loves them.”
I shook my head. “I never heard of it.” At my house we only listened to Sesame Street and Disney.
“Oh,” Lisa said. “Hey Jupiter, let’s go to the tower.” I liked being called Jupiter. I played it over and over in my head as we walked across the wooden playground. I wanted to be someone else.
“Ewww!” yelled Awful Andy as we passed by his group of boys on our way to the tower. “Everyone get away! We’ll get Chrys germs!” The boys scattered and shrieked. One of them stopped running, turned and asked, “How many fingers am I holding up?” in a taunting voice. I could see the blurry shape of his hand, but it was too far away for me to make out individual fingers. I would never admit that I couldn't see well enough to know. It would prove they were right in their teasing, and give them more to use against me. Instead of answering, I ran after the boys as they dove away in horror. “I do not have any germs!” I screamed.
They were too fast for me to chase. “You can't catch us, Grandma!” yelled Lance. I knew it was him by his voice, and because he always called me Grandma, for my white hair. “Grandma's too slow,” he said to one of the other boys in the group. They were about ten feet away, and it was hard for me to distinguish their faces, especially because they were boys. Girls were easier to tell from far away because their clothes, backpacks and hairstyles were more unique and distinct. The boys all wore dark colors and had similar short haircuts, so I would've had to be closer to discern the details and separate them by names.
Lisa caught up to me as I made mean faces at the boys in the distance. We could still hear them talking. “She's a ghost,” said one, and I cringed. I hated when they called me that. “It's good we didn't catch her germs,” said another, kicking at the gravel and stirring up clouds of dust I could see. “Did you ever notice,” asked yet another boy in the huddle, “that every time she sharpens a pencil, she puts it so close to her eye and stares at it?” That must've been Kurt, because he always laughed at me after I came away from the pencil sharpener in our classroom and studied the tip of my pencil to make sure it was sharp. “She's a freak,” he said.
“Come on, Jupiter,” Lisa said quietly. “Let's go to the tower and play Outer Space some more.” We walked back to the castle but I kept looking back at the boys, my mouth slightly open. I wanted to run after them, prove that I wasn't a freak or a grandma and it wasn't my fault I had to look close at things like pencils to see if they were sharp, or hands to see how many fingers they were holding up. And that I didn't have germs.
Deep down though, I felt like a ghost, a weirdo beyond weirdos, and even though I wanted to, I felt like I had no solid grounds to defend myself. I sat in the tower with Lisa, and felt more like a mealworm than a celestial body.
Lisa came over my house that afternoon. “Well, how was school?” Mom asked as we settled in with my brother Randy for an afternoon snack. It had to be healthy so we had peanut butter crackers. Mom sat down at the table with us.
“They did the ‘Chrys germs’ thing again,” I said and bit into my cracker.
“Did you provoke it?” She was across the table so it was hard for me to see her features, but her voice made it sound like they must be hard.
“No,” I said right away. “They’re mean, Mom.”
“It’s really stupid,” Lisa chimed in my defense. “I mean, they’re just so dumb. You don’t have germs. And even, let’s say you really did, it’s not like you catch them just like that.” She tapped me quick on the shoulder. “Boop!”
“Right,” I said. Even Randy, who was two years younger and probably didn’t know what germs were, nodded his head.
“Actually,” said Mom, “germs do jump that fast.”
I couldn’t finish my crackers. I was crushed. Sometimes it felt like she thought I had germs too. She didn't ever touch me. I had the strong feeling that she was ashamed of my albinism, of having a child who was such a freak. It was a topic we never touched. That shame seeped into me like osmosis.
*******
This is my second #FridayFlash - short pieces of writing posted every Friday, so keep reading! This is an excerpt from the very beginning of my memoir, Moonchild, a memoir about being a freshman in college with albinism.
Before the bulk of the book is a section called Eclipses, four chapters about my childhood and adolescence before college that really shaped that experience. This one is from the first chapter, Constant Eclipse, which is about my life when I was in elementary school.
Some names have been changed.
Another excerpt from the same area of the memoir:
Constant Eclipse - Flash One
Currently Listening:
"American Cowboy" - Jada - I can't believe I'm publicly admitting to listening to this song, b/c it's soooo not my style, and it's pretty stupid (and I'm not into cowboys, lol), but I blame House for getting me stuck on this song - for anyone who watched Season 5, it's the song from Chase's bachelor party. It's infuriatingly addicting and strangely, I like it, kind of a lot. So there!
“Do you like New Kids on the Block?” she asked me.
“What’s that, Mercury?”
“A music group. Everyone loves them.”
I shook my head. “I never heard of it.” At my house we only listened to Sesame Street and Disney.
“Oh,” Lisa said. “Hey Jupiter, let’s go to the tower.” I liked being called Jupiter. I played it over and over in my head as we walked across the wooden playground. I wanted to be someone else.
“Ewww!” yelled Awful Andy as we passed by his group of boys on our way to the tower. “Everyone get away! We’ll get Chrys germs!” The boys scattered and shrieked. One of them stopped running, turned and asked, “How many fingers am I holding up?” in a taunting voice. I could see the blurry shape of his hand, but it was too far away for me to make out individual fingers. I would never admit that I couldn't see well enough to know. It would prove they were right in their teasing, and give them more to use against me. Instead of answering, I ran after the boys as they dove away in horror. “I do not have any germs!” I screamed.
They were too fast for me to chase. “You can't catch us, Grandma!” yelled Lance. I knew it was him by his voice, and because he always called me Grandma, for my white hair. “Grandma's too slow,” he said to one of the other boys in the group. They were about ten feet away, and it was hard for me to distinguish their faces, especially because they were boys. Girls were easier to tell from far away because their clothes, backpacks and hairstyles were more unique and distinct. The boys all wore dark colors and had similar short haircuts, so I would've had to be closer to discern the details and separate them by names.
Lisa caught up to me as I made mean faces at the boys in the distance. We could still hear them talking. “She's a ghost,” said one, and I cringed. I hated when they called me that. “It's good we didn't catch her germs,” said another, kicking at the gravel and stirring up clouds of dust I could see. “Did you ever notice,” asked yet another boy in the huddle, “that every time she sharpens a pencil, she puts it so close to her eye and stares at it?” That must've been Kurt, because he always laughed at me after I came away from the pencil sharpener in our classroom and studied the tip of my pencil to make sure it was sharp. “She's a freak,” he said.
“Come on, Jupiter,” Lisa said quietly. “Let's go to the tower and play Outer Space some more.” We walked back to the castle but I kept looking back at the boys, my mouth slightly open. I wanted to run after them, prove that I wasn't a freak or a grandma and it wasn't my fault I had to look close at things like pencils to see if they were sharp, or hands to see how many fingers they were holding up. And that I didn't have germs.
Deep down though, I felt like a ghost, a weirdo beyond weirdos, and even though I wanted to, I felt like I had no solid grounds to defend myself. I sat in the tower with Lisa, and felt more like a mealworm than a celestial body.
Lisa came over my house that afternoon. “Well, how was school?” Mom asked as we settled in with my brother Randy for an afternoon snack. It had to be healthy so we had peanut butter crackers. Mom sat down at the table with us.
“They did the ‘Chrys germs’ thing again,” I said and bit into my cracker.
“Did you provoke it?” She was across the table so it was hard for me to see her features, but her voice made it sound like they must be hard.
“No,” I said right away. “They’re mean, Mom.”
“It’s really stupid,” Lisa chimed in my defense. “I mean, they’re just so dumb. You don’t have germs. And even, let’s say you really did, it’s not like you catch them just like that.” She tapped me quick on the shoulder. “Boop!”
“Right,” I said. Even Randy, who was two years younger and probably didn’t know what germs were, nodded his head.
“Actually,” said Mom, “germs do jump that fast.”
I couldn’t finish my crackers. I was crushed. Sometimes it felt like she thought I had germs too. She didn't ever touch me. I had the strong feeling that she was ashamed of my albinism, of having a child who was such a freak. It was a topic we never touched. That shame seeped into me like osmosis.
*******
This is my second #FridayFlash - short pieces of writing posted every Friday, so keep reading! This is an excerpt from the very beginning of my memoir, Moonchild, a memoir about being a freshman in college with albinism.
Before the bulk of the book is a section called Eclipses, four chapters about my childhood and adolescence before college that really shaped that experience. This one is from the first chapter, Constant Eclipse, which is about my life when I was in elementary school.
Some names have been changed.
Another excerpt from the same area of the memoir:
Constant Eclipse - Flash One
Currently Listening:
"American Cowboy" - Jada - I can't believe I'm publicly admitting to listening to this song, b/c it's soooo not my style, and it's pretty stupid (and I'm not into cowboys, lol), but I blame House for getting me stuck on this song - for anyone who watched Season 5, it's the song from Chase's bachelor party. It's infuriatingly addicting and strangely, I like it, kind of a lot. So there!
Friday, January 15, 2010
Constant Eclipse - Flash One
I was scared that Mom or Dad would kill me in my sleep. Dad was an FBI agent and he had a gun that he sometimes kept in the house. I thought even he was afraid of Mom, who screamed all the time, got hysterically mad and spanked me when I was little. It was her I listened for as I laid in bed in my thin yellow nightgown, reading Nancy Drew by the light of my night-light, while I tried not to think about getting murdered.
My parents' bedroom door opened and I heard Mom’s sharp footsteps in the hallway. They sounded mad. I waited curled on my side with the book under the covers and screamed No, Mom, No! inside my head. If either of them came for me tonight, I’d jump out the window. I didn’t care that my room was upstairs. I’d jump anyway, land mangled on the driveway and run across our yard as fast as I could. I’d pound on our next-door neighbor’s door. If she answered, I’d tell her my parents were chasing me and beg her to protect me. If she didn’t believe me, I’d run faster and pound harder at the next house and go through the neighborhood with wild desperation until I found someone who would keep me safe. It might not last. My parents might follow me, shoot into the distance or use the authorities to take me back, but that was like the second story window and the driveway; if I wanted to survive, I'd have to think about it later.
The bathroom door opened and Mom went in. I kept freezing. She finally stalked back to her room and I breathed. The quiet lasted a few full chapters.
I got up and went to my window. It faced the driveway and our front yard with its giant tree. The moon was out, maybe full, I couldn’t tell. It was big and white and round and it cast shadows through the branches onto the grass. I had a huge feeling of dark and mysterious magic in my chest. If I could touch it, it would be like touching my soul. It would make me huge too, and magic. I stood watching the moon, the tree, and the shadows until I was finally tired.
I woke up early for school. I woke up alive. I went downstairs and talked to my dad about the weather as I got ready for school. I talked to him as cheerfully as possible and asked a million questions in hopes of hearing his usual cheerfulness back. It was reassurance that I would be okay. He was a good way to gauge if anyone was mad at me, because Dad agreed with everything Mom thought. Being downstairs helped me eavesdrop and figure out where everyone was and put me in a much better position to run if I had to. When I walked out the front door, I felt like I could finally fully breathe, and drank in deep breaths of fresh air.
*******
This is my first #FridayFlash - short pieces of writing posted every Friday, so keep reading! This is an excerpt from the very beginning of my memoir, Moonchild, a memoir about being a freshman in college with albinism.
Before the bulk of the book is a section called Eclipses, four chapters about my childhood and adolescence before college that really shaped that experience. This one is from the first chapter, Constant Eclipse, which is about my life when I was in elementary school. It's a pretty intense piece, I admit, but I figure, why not just dive right in?
~Chrys
Currently Listening:
"I Believe in a Thing Called Love" - The Darkness - something about the music to this song really reminds me of The Cars, which is just sort of...funny or something. It's an addicting song.
My parents' bedroom door opened and I heard Mom’s sharp footsteps in the hallway. They sounded mad. I waited curled on my side with the book under the covers and screamed No, Mom, No! inside my head. If either of them came for me tonight, I’d jump out the window. I didn’t care that my room was upstairs. I’d jump anyway, land mangled on the driveway and run across our yard as fast as I could. I’d pound on our next-door neighbor’s door. If she answered, I’d tell her my parents were chasing me and beg her to protect me. If she didn’t believe me, I’d run faster and pound harder at the next house and go through the neighborhood with wild desperation until I found someone who would keep me safe. It might not last. My parents might follow me, shoot into the distance or use the authorities to take me back, but that was like the second story window and the driveway; if I wanted to survive, I'd have to think about it later.
The bathroom door opened and Mom went in. I kept freezing. She finally stalked back to her room and I breathed. The quiet lasted a few full chapters.
I got up and went to my window. It faced the driveway and our front yard with its giant tree. The moon was out, maybe full, I couldn’t tell. It was big and white and round and it cast shadows through the branches onto the grass. I had a huge feeling of dark and mysterious magic in my chest. If I could touch it, it would be like touching my soul. It would make me huge too, and magic. I stood watching the moon, the tree, and the shadows until I was finally tired.
I woke up early for school. I woke up alive. I went downstairs and talked to my dad about the weather as I got ready for school. I talked to him as cheerfully as possible and asked a million questions in hopes of hearing his usual cheerfulness back. It was reassurance that I would be okay. He was a good way to gauge if anyone was mad at me, because Dad agreed with everything Mom thought. Being downstairs helped me eavesdrop and figure out where everyone was and put me in a much better position to run if I had to. When I walked out the front door, I felt like I could finally fully breathe, and drank in deep breaths of fresh air.
*******
This is my first #FridayFlash - short pieces of writing posted every Friday, so keep reading! This is an excerpt from the very beginning of my memoir, Moonchild, a memoir about being a freshman in college with albinism.
Before the bulk of the book is a section called Eclipses, four chapters about my childhood and adolescence before college that really shaped that experience. This one is from the first chapter, Constant Eclipse, which is about my life when I was in elementary school. It's a pretty intense piece, I admit, but I figure, why not just dive right in?
~Chrys
Currently Listening:
"I Believe in a Thing Called Love" - The Darkness - something about the music to this song really reminds me of The Cars, which is just sort of...funny or something. It's an addicting song.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
A Fun, Flash Fiction Contest You Can Vote In!
Want to read some very cool and short fiction? You can vote for your favorite, and the winner gets published in an anthology. I think it's really cool. This whole thing is centered around #FridayFlash, a writers phenomenon thatstarted on the internet and has really taken off. I think it's just awesome to support grassroots writing communities like this.
So go to the #FridayFlash contest site, read the entries, and vote!
I also have to add my own persuasion in here and especially urge you to vote for the gifted and brilliant writer, Linda Simoni-Wastila and her piece, SILVER BULLET. It's excellent. Any readers who may be or ever have been involved in academia might especially enjoy it. Or anyone who's just had a real asshole for a teacher at some point. And that has to apply to just about everyone! So go read it, and don't forget to vote to see your favorite piece get some publication.
I just think the whole thing really rocks.
In other news, I am going to be joining #FridayFlash myself, so look for some memoir writing, fiction writing, maybe another splash or two of poetry, here on Fridays. Some people on here, even those I've known for years, haven't ever seen my writing, so here is your chance. I'll still do other blogs about life and all that during the week. I hope you will read along and check in on Fridays.
In other, less-related news, it is Thursday night and I can't help myself (even though I am a little embarrassed about my over-the-top fandom) from saying how freakin' happy I am that Grey's Anatomy finally came back tonight! My world has been a little dark ever since New Year's Eve adn I can't seem to shake that darkness, and today was definitely a dark day and somehow, dorky as this may be, watching Grey's tonight brought a little light to my smile and brightened my day. And I can't wait until next week, when The Office will also be back. Just loving having that to look forward to on Thursdays and House on Mondays.
But don't forget! Go read the flash fiction and vote!
Currently listening:
"Independence Day" - Ani DiFranco - so weird, this song just came up twice, not quite right in a row, but close, on my iTunes. I've been in an Ani sort of mood lately, and I really love this song. I love sassy Ani, but I also love her softer, dark and brooding like this. And I love the lines about trying to make molehills out of mountains. Just love her way with words.
we drove the car to the top of the parking ramp
on the 4th of july
we sat out on the hood with a couple of warm beers and watched the fireworks
explode in the sky
and there was an exodus of birds from the trees
but they didnt know, we were only pretending
and the people all looked up, and were pleased
and the birds flew around like the whole world was ending
and i don't think war is noble
and i don't like to think that love is like war
and i gotta big hot cherry bomb, and i want to slip it through the mail slot
of your front door
don't leave me here
i've got your back now
you'd better have mine
cause you say the coast is clear
but you say that all the time
so many sheep i quit counting
sleepless and embarrassed about the way that i feel
trying to make mole hills out of mountains
building base camp at the bottom of a really big deal
and did i tell you how i stopped eating?
when you stopped calling me
and i was cramped up shitting rivers for weeks
and pretending that i was finally free
don't leave me here
now that your back
you'd better stay this time
cause you say the coast is clear
but you say that all the time
we drove the car to the top of the parking ramp,
on the 4th of july
and i planted my dusty boots on the bumper and sat out on the hood,
and looked up at the sky
So go to the #FridayFlash contest site, read the entries, and vote!
I also have to add my own persuasion in here and especially urge you to vote for the gifted and brilliant writer, Linda Simoni-Wastila and her piece, SILVER BULLET. It's excellent. Any readers who may be or ever have been involved in academia might especially enjoy it. Or anyone who's just had a real asshole for a teacher at some point. And that has to apply to just about everyone! So go read it, and don't forget to vote to see your favorite piece get some publication.
I just think the whole thing really rocks.
In other news, I am going to be joining #FridayFlash myself, so look for some memoir writing, fiction writing, maybe another splash or two of poetry, here on Fridays. Some people on here, even those I've known for years, haven't ever seen my writing, so here is your chance. I'll still do other blogs about life and all that during the week. I hope you will read along and check in on Fridays.
In other, less-related news, it is Thursday night and I can't help myself (even though I am a little embarrassed about my over-the-top fandom) from saying how freakin' happy I am that Grey's Anatomy finally came back tonight! My world has been a little dark ever since New Year's Eve adn I can't seem to shake that darkness, and today was definitely a dark day and somehow, dorky as this may be, watching Grey's tonight brought a little light to my smile and brightened my day. And I can't wait until next week, when The Office will also be back. Just loving having that to look forward to on Thursdays and House on Mondays.
But don't forget! Go read the flash fiction and vote!
Currently listening:
"Independence Day" - Ani DiFranco - so weird, this song just came up twice, not quite right in a row, but close, on my iTunes. I've been in an Ani sort of mood lately, and I really love this song. I love sassy Ani, but I also love her softer, dark and brooding like this. And I love the lines about trying to make molehills out of mountains. Just love her way with words.
we drove the car to the top of the parking ramp
on the 4th of july
we sat out on the hood with a couple of warm beers and watched the fireworks
explode in the sky
and there was an exodus of birds from the trees
but they didnt know, we were only pretending
and the people all looked up, and were pleased
and the birds flew around like the whole world was ending
and i don't think war is noble
and i don't like to think that love is like war
and i gotta big hot cherry bomb, and i want to slip it through the mail slot
of your front door
don't leave me here
i've got your back now
you'd better have mine
cause you say the coast is clear
but you say that all the time
so many sheep i quit counting
sleepless and embarrassed about the way that i feel
trying to make mole hills out of mountains
building base camp at the bottom of a really big deal
and did i tell you how i stopped eating?
when you stopped calling me
and i was cramped up shitting rivers for weeks
and pretending that i was finally free
don't leave me here
now that your back
you'd better stay this time
cause you say the coast is clear
but you say that all the time
we drove the car to the top of the parking ramp,
on the 4th of july
and i planted my dusty boots on the bumper and sat out on the hood,
and looked up at the sky
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
