I call him Jimmy Stewart

After months of listening to my old desktop computer rattle about, and watching it black out for no reason whatsoever, I finally decided it was time to invest in something better. New, and more convenient.

Drum roll please...

I bought a laptop!

Hooray!! Tis an understatement. I've been wanting one for years, but obviously, was too poor, which is fine. It's fun to wait until you can afford something. Not use a credit card. I could have bought it with cash. Not that I'm bragging, of course. My bank account is now practically empty, but all my bills are paid (even the pile of hospital, doctor, and dentist bills). I used the other half of my tax refund to completely pay off one credit card, and make quadrooople-size payments on all my others.

My only problem is, I know nothing about laptops. Am I supposed to keep it plugged up all the time or do I just charge the battery and then unplug it?? I have no idea...

I took it out of the box last night, and then went to bed after cutting my finger on a shard of glass hiding beneath my desk. Was too tired. Started setting it up this morning, and got frustrated...figured I better get online for the first time in forever and start catching up with everyone before I get all lap-top-ish...blogging and writing from the comforts of anywhere! Now just work will take place here in the office. At this desk I've grown to hate.

I'm really looking at this like writerly freedom. I'm not sure I'm still entering that contest I've been blabbing about...but I do have good news...great news! More, more, more...

While offline the past week and a half (or however long it was this time), I had a brilliant idea! Novel three...now I don't have to stumble into this tiny, hot office every morning and/or night to write it! Just lie in bed or on the couch, and write, write, write till my little heart's content. Which is never. So until my little head's content...when I'm published.

(Sigh)

Too much excitement (no matter how self-absorbed) for one morning when I'm actually running a fever and feeling quite sick.

I just wanted to throw out a lifeline. I'm here and alive. Baby Girl is well. I have stories to tell, but as I mentioned, I have been offline...was giving myself time to mourn. ‘Wander the darkness', and all that sadbastard nonsense (which isn't nonsense at all). And once I felt better, my computer got all fidgety for the millionth time, and I thought, Well, it's now or never. I have the money...why not do something for myself?

Very rare and selfish moment...I hope it pays off in a few years when I'm big and famous.

(Ha)

I plan to get myself back in gear (in a healthy way, and health permitting, of course) as soon as I get the new computer figured out. Any advice is extremely welcome!

I did name him Jimmy Stewart, as I mentioned. He's pretty and shiny...my new best friend. :)

What I couldn't say.

I still can't write

Someone in my real life died.

I've been wandering the darkness.

Now the sun is rising and the window's gold.

I hear a gunshot, a ceiling fan.

The coffee's cold.

I wish I blogged every day, and was warmer to my friends. More reliable. I wish I had the day to write, read, and edit short stories for the contest I will never win because you can't win a short story contest unless you're perfectly prepared.

Where have I been??

Last Saturday, I took Baby Girl out to eat.

Last Sunday was Easter.

He died that morning.

We went north to my Grandparents and spent time with family. Ate questionable food. Had a nice time visiting.

On Monday, I went slightly off the deep end. I sent Baby Girl away and cleaned.

On Tuesday, they buried him. Gray skies and soft rain. A good day for a funeral.

I wanted to clean again, but the house was spotless.

I baked instead.

The Cake of Death

Two hundred chocolate chips in forty rows of five to serve as the tombstones in snowy white frosting.

I went to bed that night, thinking everything was fine. That the soft rain would stay soft rain, but Wednesday morning, around three AM, I woke up to the loud crinkling sounds of a giant hand trying to crush my house the way you crush an empty Coke can before throwing it away. Along with hail, and a rush of rain. A tornado.

I ran into the office here, and hid beneath the desk while reaching one hand up to the mouse, I got online to check the radar; to see if the worst of the storm was coming or going. It was a few miles up the road. The power went out. My child screamed, Mommy, monsters! and slept in the bed with me for four stormy hours.

I worked most of Wednesday. Finally ran away in the late afternoon. Went back to the library in College Town. Drove past the site where he died...saw tire ruts in the mud, and for the first time on that clear and blinding day, the sun went behind a cloud, and the curve where he died was dark in shadow.

On the hill right past it, the sun returned.

I sat across from a gorgeous man in the second floor alcove, and read Everything that Rises Must Converge.

When I left, the wind was fierce, as always following a tornado, like a ghost of the horrid skies long past, and two black men walked towards me where the sidewalk intersects, and one mumbled to the other, Her skirt's gonna blow up.

I blushed and fumbled to hold down the white billowy bottom of my candy-colored outfit as they watched with a spark of anticipation.

How ya doing, one asked.

My voice broke, and squeaked, Just fine.

I went to see my sister. We talked about his death.

Driving home that night, I looked again, with all the windows rolled down. Trash in the floorboard, airborne, all floating about. The music loud. I turned it down and saw his rusted bumper lying in the grass.

I never knew a boy so sweet. So happy. Always smiling, and excited.

He had a million friends and deserved every one of them.

On Thursday, I took a two hour walk with Baby-bot. She fell and skint her knee. I carried her home half a mile with her bleeding and crying.

On Friday, she sent herself away; begging to go back to the Others. I didn't feel well, so I laid on the couch and listened to the rain and hail, and watched Match Game.

That night, it stormed again. I drank coffee and got online.

While sitting here, I wrote for hours. A big prosed-up story of what I've been up to. Then I thought I'd read everyone's writing, and write lots of email...oh the optimistic dreams of an overly-caffeinated, frustrated writer/blogger/human-being.

None of it happened.

I stumbled off to bed in tears of a sad dark reality. The quiet online existence I can't seem to remedy. And for the sake of still being afraid to sleep knowing he's in a grave, wearing what? I can't imagine. I want to pick up that bumper, bring it home and bathe it. Nail it to the side of my blue painted shed and let the sun shine off it every morning when it rises.

On Saturday, it rained. I took Baby Girl out to eat. It was prom night in Doctor/Dentist town. All the kids were sitting about in formal gowns and tuxedos, and I was jealous. My waiter was gorgeous! I felt old and tired and ugly and fat.

That night, I took dirty pictures of myself.

I felt younger and thinner, but cheap.

Eventually fell asleep, only to have nightmares.

On Sunday, we dressed up fancy and went to the grocery store. Bought lots of food, and a bouquet of red flowers.

At sunset, I took Baby Girl to Mom's house where my sister was staying. They played, while I drove out to the cemetery for my Grandmother's birthday.

I laid the red flowers on her red grave, and stuck a note inside the tombstone.

I wandered about, reading names. I saw an Annie Hall, which made me laugh, but then I felt guilty for laughing while old tired people lay sideways beneath me.

The not-so old, and his bright smiling face.

A good day is hard to find

I can't write.

I hit a high point last week, and was cruising along, and then I didn't sleep, and it all went away. I got blocked.

I thought a few pictures might help...When I go away for a while, it's hard for me to start blogging again. Like sitting in a classroom, and you're quiet, then the teacher calls on you, and you open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. You've been quiet too long. So you stay quiet, and think, I have too much to say. Too much to do. I'll wait till I have more time...and then it's a week and two days without saying a word. Out of practice. I want to catch up, and be close, and hopefully blogging will help the writing.


Reading.

Last Wednesday, the sleepless day, I drove down to College Town, and walked across campus to the university's library. I found the book I've been looking for, on the second floor, and read in this soft-lit alcove. It blew me away...The final line...I'll never write anything great. Though not for a lack of trying.

That night, I slept.

Nothing on Thursday.

Friday, I took Baby Girl up to the Sticksville Elementary while they were out for Spring Break.

She had a blast! All climbing and sliding and running about, spinning on the merry-go-round...


She was red in the face and crying when we left. Playground, playground! she shouted for days.

On Saturday, the power went out for five hours.

We sat at a home for a while, and listened to the lightening and rain. As soon as it stopped, we got in the car. The road was flooded, but we made it to the highway, and slowly uptown.

On the other side of the tracks, there were trees uprooted and scattered on the ground. One was lying on top of a house. One was split in two.


On Sunday, something bad happened. Even worse than a storm, or a possible tornado. Whatever uprooted those trees...this uprooted me, and left me lifeless, powerless, sobbing on the couch. A cop at the door...Tis all I can say. Distraught to the point I sent Baby Girl to the Others so I could think the bad thoughts...Alone with dark clouds, I cleaned the house til my hands bled.

On Monday, I took Baby Girl shoe shopping.

It was the first day I didn't write, or work on my project.

On Tuesday, the bad thing got better.

I still felt cranky, though...still no writing.

A storm blew through, and brought cold air.

On Wednesday, I woke up coughing and sniffling. It was the only day I could go out by myself, so despite feeling sick, I drove back down to College Town.

I bought an Easter dress. A pair of pink high heels.

I tried to write...

Yesterday, I drove Baby Girl to the gas station and bought her some candy, and me an Orange Crush. She asked the woman behind the counter, What doing? The woman said, I'm working, honey. And she handed her a gold Easter egg.

We said Thank you, and took our treats to a nearby cemetery.

We parked and ate and drank and smiled...

I wrote five pages yesterday.

There is pleasure in this life.

Easter Legs

After joining Self Portrait Challenge last month, I only posted once. I was busy writing, but also, the assignment was to fiddle with your photos online, and I don't care for fiddling. I like my photos natural.

Lucky for me...

April's challenge is The Body.

Take photos of your separate pieces...Your favorites, your flaws. No pretty faces, though. Just flesh, and truth, and Ash in the nude.

I thought I'd start from the bottom up.


Standing in the bathtub with a hand on my hip...these are my feet, my legs, my worn out knees. All rough from crawling with a baby, and scarred from falling off a bike.

I like my legs. I like my feet...My knees can take a hike.