take that

I’m oddly captivated with that horrific news story about the baby who was kidnapped from her mother while still in utero. The mother died. The baby is doing well. Well only because she can’t yet grasp how she came into this world. To be born into such violence and lose your mother to it, that is a burden to bare. That is the beginning of a book. Some hero tale where this little girl goes on to save the world. Something where she has a handful of unique talents, like smarts and intuition and a black belt in karate by the tender age of 5. Something where she has a group of ragtag friends who are devoted to her journey and possess their own special blend of cleverness and cunning. They journey off to make the world free of evil, despite her being born of it.

She will have to be raised by people who don’t love her as they should. Who make her do chores and never buy her any toys. People who told her that her mother abandoned her on their doorstep. She will have only a few close friends, but those friends will be like family to her. They stick together though thick and thin. She will be happy in spite of her circumstance because she knows there is something great brewing inside of her. She will excel at most everything, except she will lack one thing. Perhaps the ability to win at chess. And then winning at chess will be what she has to do to save the world.

Then one day, she’ll get a letter or a visit from a stranger who she immediately takes a shine to. This mysterious stranger will tell her the truth of how she was born. That the woman who killed her mother was really trying to kill her, but she survived and now is the only person who can stop evil from taking over the world. There would have to be some kind of amulet. She would need to go get it. Or keep it safe. And once that was done, fight the ring leader of the evildoers and save the world.

She would have to venture into a secret world unknown to us. A world where there is a raging battle of good vs. evil. Where each day is fought for. Each deed fought for. A world that is in control of us like puppets. We fall to their whims and evil is perched to win the game. But they are missing the amulet to complete the set, and they smell that it is afoot.

So this little girl has to keep the amulet safe and get it to the kindly old man who is the leader of the good. This amulet will tilt the scales and make the world safer, for a while. So she gathers her friends and starts on this journey. She only has a ragged map and a vague idea of where she needs to go. She will find her way. She will be betrayed by a friend. Her mentor will die. She will have moments where she thinks she can see her mom, where she thinks her mom has helped her, only to find out that it was her who saved her. She will think of giving up. She will think that this journey is too much for her, but she will press on with the support of her friends. She will engage in a battle of wills and smarts and intuition with a evil sage much older and wiser than her. She will think she has won when she will come upon a final game. A maze of sorts. With pieces to move and strategy to be strategized. Her math whiz friend will whisper in her ear that it’s just like chess excitedly, not knowing she has never won a game of chess in her whole life. She’ll sit down at the board and play this evil mastermind for fate of the world. Her winning move will be linked to something she learned on this journey. There will be a flashback to a wise word about how evil always plays to win, only looks out for itself. So making a move that is kind or strives to tie the game instead of win it throws off the sage’s plan. Makes her win the game. Saves the world.

But it won’t get her mom back. But she’ll also learn her mom has been with her the whole time. The kindly old man who leads the good will fill in all the gaps in the story. Everything will be clear. She’ll understand her place in the world and why what happened, happened. She’ll find a new home with people who love her.

Her world will be saved as well.

The end.

evil eye

I’ve never been the kind of girl who can stay angry for long. Or hold a grudge. Definitely not the kind of girl to bring up the past in snippy one liners years later. Or give you that look at a party. You know the look. The wait until we get home look. I don’t do that. (Cringe when I see others do it.) I’m not the kind of girl to let things build up and simmer into a thick resentment. I’m definitely not the kind of girl to plot revenge. Or take glee in another’s misfortune, regardless of circumstance.

No. Those things aren’t me.

I wear my heart on my sleeve and suffer from a compulsion to make sure you know how I feel. I can’t hide even the most happy and subtle of emotions. If I get you a birthday present a few days before your birthday, I can’t even wait that long to give it to you. I write long posts to rid myself of demons and have never plotted anything worse than a surprise party in my entire life. I have a capacity for compassion that rivals a 4 year old’s capacity for cartoon viewing. I am your best friend through thick and thin. Loyal to a fault. I still believe in things that most people outgrow with their first broken heart. I wear my rose colored glassed with pride.

The nicest little nick name I’ve ever been called: princess. In the sweet way. In the “you should be adored my millions” way. Andrew said that.

The nicest little nick name I’ve ever called anyone: Cocoa Puff. In the “I could just eat you up” kind of way. That was M.

If I had a million dollars I would divide it up equally among all my friends and family.

If I had a really big brownie, I’d eat it all myself.

You can trust me.

I’ll trust you even when I shouldn’t.

I like cats the best.

I make up dances.

I punched someone in the nose once and made them bleed. A lot. Not a good day.

I think it’s really really funny when someone slips and falls.

Even if they get hurt.

I accidentally dropped a baby off a changing table once.

I learned that being manipulative is a lot of work and gave it up in my early 20s.

I was someone’s mistress once.

I’ll never do that again.

But then I kinda did that again this summer.

I’ve stolen money and things long ago.

I can’t lie very well.

But I'll try anyway sometimes.

58 toes

We bought a house just over a year ago. It’s one of six units in a Melrose Place style building, sans pool. It has a basement and three levels. Built in 1926, there are built-ins and hardwood floors and lots of charm. It’s all crooked and slanty and sometimes I think it will collapse at any moment. There is a fireplace and a tv room and a kitchen so small all the appliances have been blasted with our shrink ray in order to fit. We call it The HOM. Or the CONDOM, given it's condominium status.

Yesterday, it felt like a HOME for the first time in our forever there. It has something to do with :A: and her things filling out the gaps in our things and her just being there really. A happy face to come home to. And her feathered friends, too. I love their tweeting. It has something to do with M and HIM the cat being there. M’s kitschy contributions to the décor polka dotting all the rooms. His basement bedroom, all circa 16 year old him. His guitar playing making its way through the heating vents and filling the rooms with music as homey as fresh baked bread. And it has to do with me. My art on the walls. The odd ball colors I opted to paint everything. I am a maker of the cozy. I know how to fluff a pillow and fold a blanket in such a way that you want to take a nap the second you look at ‘em. It’s a gift.

I was finishing my paint-by-number when I felt it. :A: was getting ready to meet her boyfriend for coffee and studying at Spyhouse. M was waiting for his friend N to pick him up to go play music at an open mic night in northeast Minneapolis. I didn’t have anywhere to be, but a movie to watch and a painting to finish. It just kinda hit me and I felt at home and smilie and thankful for it. Lucky even. It’s a nice place. Full of funky things. Overflowing with neat people.

Happy.

doom doom doom doom doom

Today is Pretend You Are From Outer Space Day!

Yay!

Inspired by Invader Zim!

He is an alien invader who, like most alien invaders, wishes to take over Earth through a string of evil plots and hijackings.

Also, like many alien invaders, he is petite.

Here are fun facts about Invader Zim:

• He like waffles that have waffles in them!
• He has a dog that isn’t really a dog named Gir.
• He calls money “earth monies.”
• He occasionally sports a name tag that says “Human” on it.
• He has an “I HEART EARTH!” sign in his front yard.
• He asks people things like this: “In the event of, say, a full scale invasion, how prepared would you say this planet’s defenses would be?”
• His understanding of human biology is smallish and adorable: “You can't keep your eyes closed forever! You have to breathe sometime!”

Being from outer space myself (just for today) I have come up with my own list of words to describe common earth items for my fellow invaders:
• head = brain bag
• home = earth shelter
• car = motorized automobile car
• children = underdeveloped earthinoid beings
• pets = underspecies companion slaves
• food = nourishment pellets

These from my pollyblog pal and companion alien invader, Jason:
• cat = apathy creature
• bus = motorized crowd organizer
• sushi = smelly sustenance
• sitcoms = timely hilarity
• slippers = furry foot wear
• paper towels = roll of sponge

Coming Soon: More from my partners in earthly misdeeds!

Make your own list, er, your own stacked pile of thinked thoughts! It’s fun!

Now on to two important side notes:

#1. Apparently this has been on the box since 1978 (thanks, Internet!) but today was the first day I realized that Frosted Flakes are actually Frosted Flakes Of Corn. I had no idea. Probably because it's written all small under the 1000 point sized "Frosted Flakes."



#2. I came home from a babysitting interview feeling rather hungry and lo and behold, :A: was making dinner for all of us. It was like a present! I couldn’t have been more happy to smell supper smells than I was just then and to top it off it was delicious :A:-A-Roni with cheese. Happiness!

candy apple grey

the ground opened up
and suddenly i was gone
he didn’t notice

- - - - - - - - - -

There is so much churning inside me it’s hard to spit out these words. Big mean authoritarian voices, scolding. I should have stayed home. I am not good enough. I will never be good enough. I am not pretty. I have funny shaped lips. My eyes are lopsided. My body, unbelievably flawed. I am not clever. I am not precious. Or special. Or anything written on a 3rd grade sticker of accomplishment. It’s loud sometimes. Drowning out everything else. Drowning. Holding me under. I am not anything. I am not worth any work. The. Most. Beautiful. Girl. I. Have. Ever. Seen. In. Person. Thinks. She. Has. A. Pin. Head. And that is just what she says aloud.

I have to write that I am worth work on the black board a hundred times in dusty white chalk. I am worth a swim across an ocean. I am worth a million poems. That voice is small. Small and defiant. A quiet little whisper from a secret little hidden room. I am good. I am adorable. I am swimming. I am pretty. I have eyes that speak for me beautifully. My smile lights up rooms. I am a good person. I am kind. Clever. Whip smart. Loveable. Goose bump inducing. My friends are lucky. The boys I choose to kiss are the luckiest boys in the world. My hands are so soft it’s like they aren’t even there. My heart is sometimes all I can hear. It’s thumping downs out traffic noise.

I am worth work.

I am worth work.

I.

Am.

isn't he cute?

For two days, I could eat cheese unbothered.

Let me explain.

:A:’s mom was visiting this weekend. She stayed with us. “The more, the merrier!” is apparently our motto. In order to make her stay comfortable, we had to lose the cat. She’s allergic. He’s furry. Enough said. So I made arrangements for HIM to visit a kitty resort, otherwise known as J and K’s house.

We love J and K. Did I mention that?

My first worry was their Christmas tree. I saw it all WWF style, with HIM in one corner and the tree in the other. There would be end of round bells and a referee and jeering fans. I pictured him swinging from the branches and ornaments crashing all around him, the lights flickering. This crazed look in his eyes. But you know what, he totally ignored it! Must have just thought it an overgrown, picky houseplant. Must have thought it was an air freshener. Either way, a trip to Target to replace all their holiday flare was unnecessary. Thank GOD, because we’re broke!

My second worry was that he would make himself too at home. Which he did. He always does. He has a lot of kitty self esteem and chutzpah. He is food obsessed. Wants to smell everything. When you open the refrigerator he hops up on his hind legs, paws on a shelf, and sniffs around for something that strikes his fancy. And if he finds it, he bats at it until it’s within reach, grabs it with his teeth and makes a run for it. Cheese is a favorite. You can’t leave anything on the counter or within jumping reach, which is surprisingly far given his small stature, or he’ll eat it. We’ve woken up to many a chewed up bag of bread or a half eaten cake. He has a sweet tooth, too. It’s crazy. He spanks scones. Loves bagels. Will climb you for a taste of blueberry muffin.

The first checking in phone call consisted of me apologizing for 1) HIM not letting them get any sleep 2) HIM eating everything he could 3) HIM spilling yogurt on the floor and 4) HIM's pesky want of attention. They tried to keep him out of their room because J has cat allergies too, and of course, their room was the only place he wanted to be. Meowing and scratching on the door. When J took a nap, not having gotten any sleep the night before thanks to the aforementioned meowing and scratching, she woke up with him on her chest and a piece of string by her side. He wanted to play. He figured out how to open the door. No good.

The second checking in phone call consisted of more apologies. He ate a bunch of bread that they had “hidden” on top of the refrigerator. K opted to sleep on the couch with HIM so J could get some sleep. Thankfully, that worked. Cold weather HIM is a snuggler. And then to pay K back for keeping him company all night, HIM ate all K’s scrambled eggs. And they were fancy scrambled eggs to with cream cheese and herbs. He hit the motherload.

“When are you guys coming to get HIM?’

“Immediately?”

“Yeah.”

banana bandana billowing breathlessly boing boing

I have the attention span of a gnat. My mind flips from topic to topic, thing to thing with lightening speed. I’m easily distracted. Easy to entertain. The vacant look in my eyes probably means I’m ignoring you. My hair looks fabulous today. Don’t you think? Who are all these people walking by, alive at the same time as me? The picket fence across the street looks like it’s made of licorice. I wonder what the cat is doing. Why does caffeine do this to me? I have natural rhythm. I love to tap dance. Smooth bossa nova beats are falling like raindrops around me. Hitting the floor with the sound of a wisk broom gliding over a snare drum. My stomach is growling for no good reason. Will I ever match who I think I am? The most beautiful woman I have ever seen in person thinks she has a pin head. What would I trade to be able to fly? What would she trade? Is this really that bad? I sold almost all my books. Losing proof of my intellect became more attractive then lugging them around. Nothing left to say how smart I am other than me. How smart am I? Is this a game? A race? Can I take my ball and go home now? I wonder what my favorite song would be had I heard every song. The strongest M&M should be used for breeding purposes. Does anyone eat Hostess Fruit Pies anymore? Why doesn’t the FDA demand that fruit pie be in quotes? I want to play a vicious game of Scrabble. I want motorcycle boots. I have a thousand ideas for a-line skirts. And paintings. And collages. And dioramas. Evil bands of pixies who steal baby limbs and hide them in flower blossoms. The aftermath of a wedding gone wrong. Pink polka dots. Stripes. Patterns. Men’s ties on the bias. Half and half is not good on cereal. Joyce has bats in her belfry. Louise always runs. Will the house fit the three of us? Will the three of us fit the house? I love screen prints. Graphic. Colorful. The simple ones are best. The ones with words are best. I’m going to the art sale today. Picking over the picked over. I want to play an instrument. I want to sing. I want to sing like a bird. I want to roller skate and drink eggnog. Like Christmas break when I was 12. All my childhood memories are in golden hazy colored Kodacrome. I came across letters when I cleaned the basement. Wonder where Jack is. Wonder where Andrew is. Wonder where Dave is. Of the three, Andrew is the one I wonder about most. Brilliant. Boyish charm. Brontosaurus. Boisterous. Bang bang. Beveled. Beehive. Burdon. Bluelight. Brain crazy. Bigger than life. Bubblegum pink. Bam do bloop goo ja ja goo. Bursting.