Pop

Let me explain my absence. "Advanced" Creative Writing Class has been wonderful but also time consuming. I'm learning a lot, writing a lot and writing some more. Personal essays seem to be my thing and for some reason when I sit down to write an assignment it comes out serious, go figure. I thought I was a goof-ball writer but found I have a serious side of writing that is screaming to get out. I can't stop the words, they just keep coming. But I told my sister-in-law I'd make her laugh today. The last time I posted something on http://www.skirt.com/, I made her cry, so I owe her a laugh.

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Boy #1 moved to Florida this past weekend. Actually that's how I made Debbie cry, writing about this. But that's the direction we're going, south. Along with all the unwanted advice we gave Boy #1 and Daughter-in-law #1 before the big move, I also added,

"Now Boy #1, don't you come home to visit and call Pepsi a soda. You are a born and bred Northeast Ohioan, we say pop."

"I would never say soda."

"Damn right."

"I promise."

"No other part of the country calls it pop but us, nobody in the world does but us and we're damn proud of it, ya here?"

"Yes ma'am. Pop. Pop, pop, pop."

"That's mommy's boy. Now this is what I want you to do. You get yourself settled in Florida and then you convert the entire state into saying pop."

"I can do that. I'll keep a list."

"Yes, very good, a list. That's the way to think."

"They'll never know what hit them."

"And if it works......"

"It will work."

"We can send the other two off to different states."

"Diabolical."

"Downright diabolical."

Which button, which button?

"I just don't understand. There's a POWER button and an ON/OFF button and I turn it on by pushing the POWER button?"
"No. Mom how many times.....?" Boy #3 is exasperated.
Standing in front of the fairly new TV like I always do with the remote when I try to turn it on, I consult my offspring, the exasperated one.

"You push the ON/OFF button."

"Oh that's right, I always forget. I don't want to push the wrong one because then I really don't know which one of these five smaller ones to push to fix it, you know......" Boy #3 had retreated to his room during my confusion. That's alright, it's not like I don't know where he lives.

Most of the time I just leave the TV on now so I don't have to turn it on, especially if no one's home. That's why I have the memory lapse's.

Boy #1 came over Sunday, out of the corner of my eye I could see him point the remote towards the TV.

"Nooooooo." I dove in front of the TV just like a Secret Service Agent taking a bullet for the President. "Which button did you push?" I looked at the TV and the screen was blank. "Which button, which button?"

"Did you take your little green pill today?"

"I have to get your brother involved now, he's losing his patience with me."

"You don't know how to turn on your own TV?"

I smacked him on top of his head with the remote and called his brother.

"This is...there's got to be....what the hell? Why is this so difficult."

"I'm going to look up how to program it."

"Would you please, this is disconcerting."

"Don't use your big writing class words with me. What does that mean?"

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I had so much fun in my Writing Class that I'm taking another, starting March 16. I think I've learned a lot, I'll be knocking your socks off very soon.

This might be a disaster.

Okay here is my latest assignment: Select an article in your local newspaper, read it thoroughly. Outline a fictional short story or a nonfiction article based on the account. I went for fiction because I never do fiction and wanted to see if I could do it. It's over 1,000 words.

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“This is going to be a disaster. A farmer, do you have any idea how hard it is to interview a farmer?”

“But, do you have any idea how much fun it will be to watch you try to interview a farmer?”

Paula gave Victor a glance, squinted her eyes, opened her mouth then shut it again. Why give him the satisfaction, she turned her head and watched the big city disappear.

Paula Swagger had chosen the profession of a TV news reporter. In her mid 30’s, she was still waiting for her big break. On her way to a dairy farm, she knew today wasn’t the day. She held a picture in her hand, it was a picture of the farm she and her cameraman, Victor, had their GPS set for. Out to the middle of nowhere then hang a left.

She studied the picture, apparently this farmer’s farm was being over-run by rabbits. The picture showed twenty or so crates with bunnies in them. She rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.

“Why me?”

“Boss said it would be a great human interest story, what with the Chinese New Year and all.”

Paula looked at Victor, actually stared blankly at him.

“You didn’t do your homework did you? You weren’t even paying attention in this mornings meeting?” Victor’s eyes were full of mischief, this was going to be better than he thought. He could barely sit still, his foot pressed on the accelerator just a little bit more.

“The Chinese New Year? The year of the rabbit?”

“Uh huh.” His grin widened. “People thought it would be a good idea to buy a bunny, you know for good luck. Thing is they didn’t realized what a chore it would be to take care of them.”

“So they’re dropping them off at this farm. What a mess.”

“Not only his farm, other farms and pet stores too. We’ll be there in 10 minutes.” You couldn’t wipe the grin off his face no matter how hard you tried. Paula’s head started the pound. She closed her eyes and drifted off.

“We’re here!” Paula snapped to attention.

“Would you look at that? Look at all those crates. There has to be 100 of them.”

They both sat in the stations van staring out the window. There was a fruit stand in the small parking lot where they stopped to park and behind that, a weathered barn, off to the left a farmhouse after that nothing but fields as far as the eye could see.

Paula opened her door, “Oh! Holy Mother of …..do you smell that?”

“Farms smell like poop 24/7.”

“Hello! Hi!” A man was running towards them, waving his arm. “Hello, thank you all for comin’. Are you the TV people?”

“Yes sir, we surely are.” Victor was getting into character, Paula shot him a warning look. “Hello, I’m Paula Swagger and this is my cameraman Victor. And, I’m sorry, your name?”

“Peter McGregor ma’am. I sure am glad to see you.” He shook both their hands until their teeth rattled. He pointed to house farmhouse, “That there’s my wife Elsie.” He vigorously waved to her and yelled, “These are the TV people.” Victor and Paula waved to Elsie. Peter McGregor continued to yell, “They’re gonna put me on TV, go on in and watch.”

“Oh Mr. McGregor, we’re just going to get some footage and …….” It was too late, Elsie was back in the house.

Paula whipped her head around, directed her clenched teeth towards Victor, “Get the camera, film this and let’s get the hell out of here.” He grinned at her and ran to the back of the van.

“Now Mr. McGregor how about you and I stand over there by the barn with all your bunnies.”

“They’re not my bunnies! That’s what I’m trying to tell everyone! People are dropping them off in the middle of the night. Ma’am this here’s a Dairy Farm, I can’t have a hundred bunnies hoppin around here, I got cows to milk.”

Victor arrived with his camera and handed Paula her microphone, “Ready?”

Paula glanced at Mr. McGregor, who was visibly upset. This man was looking for help and he got her. “Let’s see if we can’t get this problem taken care of sir.” She nodded to Victor, who then hoisted the camera up on his shoulder and a little red light went on. Mr. McGregor’s eye grew big as saucers and the corners of his mouth went up.

“Paula Swagger reporting from WTRX News. We are here at the farm of Peter and Elsie McGregor. Their farm has been inundated with bunnies. These bunnies are being dropped off in the middle of the night by thoughtless seekers of good fortune. You see it’s the Chinese New Year, the year of the rabbit.”

“The Chinese?”

“People have been buying bunnies in hopes of them bringing good luck to their families. Then realizing they are too much work, they drop them off at local farms and pet stores. Ladies and gentlemen these animals are not good luck charms and they can’t take care of themselves.”

She turned her attention to Mr. McGregor, “Sir, can someone who wants to adopt a bunny come by and pick one up?”

“Why sure they can. I gotta get rid of them, they’re cute and all but you know how fast they, huh, multiply and I got some gal named PETA calling me sayin I have too many bunnies, that there ain’t no way I can take care of them all. She’s right, Elsie’s been runnin back and forth to the store buyin carrots, we’re running outta room.”

“There you have it ladies and gentlemen, WTRX News will post information on our website regarding adopting a bunny from Mr. McGregor. I’m Paula Swagger at the McGregor Dairy Farm from WTRX News, thank you and good evening.”

And the little red light on the camera went off, Mr. McGregor relaxed. “What we’ll do sir, is take this tape back to the station, do a little editing and we should have it on the 6:oo news.”

“You all leavin already, we thought maybe you’d stay for supper.” Paula was moved. “I’m sorry, we have to go if you want to see yourself on TV, okay?” They exchanged smiles, real smiles and Victors stupid grin turned into a smile.

On the way back Paula, again drifted off to sleep. When she felt the van stop, she opened her eyes and looked at Victor, “We’re back sleepy head.” They both turned and looked in the back of the van at the crate with the bunny in it, “What are you going to name him?” Victor asked. It was Paula’s turn for the mischievous grin, “Peter Rabbit, of course.”

What color are you?

I almost got the crying baby out, then I put on my big girl panties and trudge through my next assignment:

Choose a color to write about. Use the thesaurus function on your software or a printed thesaurus at least ten times during this exercise. Work to focus your writing and write tight. Make the assignment no more than 250 words.

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Inside the crayon box, the big one with 72 colors, the one that makes all the kids in your first grade class jealous, yep that one with the sharpener on the back, you will find me in the purple section. They call me lavender. I’m a free spirit that goes with the flow, wherever the wind takes me and boy do I smell good. People will stop me and say,

“Hey, I know you, don’t I? Where have I seen you before?”
“The lavender field off of Route 82.”

”Right! That’s it!”
It happens all the time. I don’t want to sound pretentious or anything but I have a calm, mitigating effect on people. I’m easy on the eyes and bring a smile to a face. Sometimes a face that’s had a particularly rough day at work, a face that’s belabored after a trying day with a family member or a face that’s sitting in front of a computer endeavoring to finish what they may think is a difficult task and they are stuck to their chair until they are done.
I roll with the punches and go on forever. You can see me wave ever so gently in the wind and then I can disappear, leaving you wondering what you just saw. Leaving you with a sense of contentment.
“What the heck? Was that a ghost or just a shadow?”
No it was I, and they call me lavender.

Please wait. Be back in 2 minute.

Would it be writing genius of me to combine a McDonald's post and a Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude post together or just all together crazy? Can it be done? Sure it can. Will it be good? I don't know.
So when last we spoke I told you the story, in 300 words or less, of my Egg McMuffin Friday. Being limited to 300 words or less because it was my assignment some things were left out of that morning. Some things that were probably best left unsaid, especially with it being my my first assignment and all. I used the word pee twice, had to change damn to darn and hell was in there too, I didn't need to bring up my bra strap like I'm going to now. Don't worry Erv, it won't be that bad, the entire post is not about your sisters bra.
On my way to McDonald's, remember scarf wrapped around my neck 27 times, big leather coat and gloves, I felt my bra strap slide down my shoulder. This was shortly after I left the house and I knew it would have to stay there, uncomfortably on my shoulder until I got to work. It was unsettling because there was no way to get to it. I began to wonder,
"Which bra did I put on this morning?" I keep the uncomfortable ones in the back of the drawer.
"Maybe one of my 'good' bra's has crossed over to 'uncomfortable' I hate when that happens."
I continued on my way to my glorious breakfast with my bra strap askew, glancing at my passengers side where the husband shirts lay in a heap waiting to be taken to the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dudes. That is my after work errand, there's a better chance of seeing him in the evening and what better way to start off the weekend than with an encounter with Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dudes grin like a prison guard in a Chuck Norris movie? My Friday dragged on like most Friday's do and at 4:30 I made my escape. Checking to make sure the bra was is place before donning my winter wear.
"I have to check that bra when I get home." I made a mental note.
I arrive at my most favorite place in the world as a blogger, grabbed the husbands shirts and marched in. Huh, where is everyone? And when I say everyone, it's where are the two of them?
Oh, look there's a note being held down with a stapler right next to the cash register. "Please wait. Be back in 2 minute."
The angel on my right shoulder said, "You should stay and watch that cash register for dweedle dee and dweedle dum, it's only 2 minute." I waited. I waited longer than 2 minute when the devil on my left shoulder said, "Isn't it about time to go home and start your weekend? Seriously, I'm sure they have the cash register locked and who is going to mess with the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude, would you?"
The little devil with the pitch fork had a point. Although he's probably the one that slid my bra strap down my shoulder this morning.

I’ll scrape those windows until my fingers bleed

Here is my first writing assignment. I had five beginning phrases to pick from, tell a short story with 300 words or less in five minutes. I submitted it and am awaiting the evaluation. I'm putting my thick skin on now. Mommy.

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They called it a near miss, but I called it poor planning on my part. It was Egg McMuffin Friday, my reward for dragging my butt out of bed five days in a row and getting to work on time. Several things factor into accomplishing this goal, a quick shower, the dog taking a quick pee, a great cup of coffee, minimal conversation with the rest of the household, the contacts going in without incident, a good hair day, the moon in the seventh house and Jupiter aligning with Mars. When this happens, drive-thru here I come.
I had my one sided conversation with the quick peeing dog, “You be a good girl today, mommy has to go to work.” She cocked her head to the side, wagged her tail and conveyed to me that all would be well. Satisfied that she had the house under control, I wrapped my scarf around my neck several times, put on my coat and gloves, grabbed my purse and opened the door. “Son of ………….” I knew it was too good to be true, I was moving a break-neck Egg McMuffin speed, I had to have forgotten something. Snow. Four inches of freshly fallen snow. I looked back at the dog, “I forgot to start the car, now I have to scrape if I’m going to make it to my Egg McMuffin. It’s what? Fifteen degrees out there?” I thought of that delicious Egg McMuffin and the large piping hot mocha cappuccino with caramel, “I’ll scrape those windows until my fingers bleed, this is my reward darn it and I shall have it come hell or high water, or a frozen windshield.”

It just popped open on it's own

"You have to take my truck to work tomorrow, I'm taking your car in to get the trunk fixed."

My trunk? Why that hasn't worked since summer, June I believe. I've adjusted my life in such a way that I don't need a trunk anymore. What will I do with a fully functional trunk?

It popped open while we were out of town, just popped open on it's own and it took the husband several tries to get it to stay closed. "Don't open that until I get it looked at." Yes that was June. I remember now. Are our lives that busy that we can't sit at a dealership wait for our car to be fixed? Apparently.

We went out of town again in September, suitcase in the back seat. While driving home the husband pulled over, "What?"

"The trunk just popped open."

"Get the hell outta here."

We got out of the car, "Hey, look there's your new shoes we've been looking for all this time." I was excited. "I never thought to look for them in the trunk, funny isn't it?"

"Hold the shoes, I'll close the trunk."

When he was satisfied the trunk was secure we continued on our way. "Don't open that until I get it looked at." Yes that was September.

Now my trunk is fixed because the husband sat at the dealership for an hour and a half. He took a vacation day.

I'll need to adjust my way of life for the better, I'm sure. I can put my groceries in the trunk now and I have a place to transport the dead bodies again. It's a win/win.

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I have enrolled in a creative writing class which starts tomorrow, I'm very excited about it. I'm telling all that read my blog so I push myself to achieve greatness. I won't settle for anything else. But on the off chance I have a bad day I will post this picture of a baby crying on FaceBook and you can offer words of encouragement if you would like. I also have no idea how much time it will take out of my day so I'm not sure when I will be able to post. Be patient, I'm sure the posts will get much better.