A Snippet of Fiction

Here's a small piece I came up with moments ago. It's heavily inspired by the irreverent and sarcastic style of British author Robert Rankin. Not on purpose, however. I sort of absorb the style and voice of authors I've been reading and/or listening to on books on CD. I recently re-listened to The Witches of Chiswick, Nostradamus Ate My Hamster, and Fandom of the Operator.

Here it goes:

What if, when you look in the mirror, you don’t like the person you see looking back at you? What if, on top of that, it’s always a different person looking back at you? And you don’t particularly care for any of them?
Aside from the fact that you’ve got a problem, I’d also say, “Hell, at least you’re not alone!” For I, too, have that problem.

Today, when I gazed upon the dreaded mirror (at a local pub, as I have removed all of the mirrors from my apartment), I saw a stone-cold bitch. She looked like she’d just as soon take a shit on my face as look at me. But she was looking at me. Which made me very uncomfortable.

The thing that was most unnerving about this bitch wasn’t just her look of absolute loathing that made me wish I’d never been born. No, it wasn’t that, though that look would put you in a right frightful mood all by itself. No, it was the fact that I’d seen her before!

Never before had I seen a repeated countenance gaze back at me. My first thought, well, second thought, right after, “Oh my good god, what the hell?!”, was this: “Maybe this is the real me.” If it was the real me, it would explain a hell of a lot of things. Things like, “Why don’t I have any friends?” and “Why does everyone I know think I’m pissed off all of the time?”

This was a bit of a conundrum for me. You see, I’ve never particularly cared for myself or my looks, even though I couldn’t really trust what my face actually looks like. It even changes in each picture that I’ve had taken of me (which I avoid just as much as I avoid mirrors).

Still, I could see my body, which I sort of trusted my eyes’ perception of, as I can feel it as well. Thick in the thighs, hips, and buttocks. Sort of narrow in the waist, but not as much as I’d like. No breasts to speak of really. On my good days I can fill an A cup, I suppose. And I didn’t like this at all.

But back to the damned mirror. I must’ve stood there like a stooge staring at it for quite some time. Finally another woman had to rudely nudge me to get my attention off of the ice queen that was staring daggers at me from the mirror.

“You look fine,” she whined plaintively as she bumped me with her bony hip. “Please move over and let me wash my hands. I’ll help you with your makeup if you’re worried about impressing someone. Just let me wash my damned hands!”

“Oh,” said I to her, stupidly. “But I don’t wear makeup.”

“You think I can’t see that for myself?” she sniped, walloping me with her hip again, albeit more forcefully.

If I weren’t so inebriated, I probably would’ve noticed that she was more messed up with the spirits than I was. She smelled faintly of vomit, and I recalled hearing some unsavory noises before she appeared at my side. However, my liquor addled brain didn’t put these things together to paint a bigger picture.

Did you know the spirits use computers?

As evidenced by (drum roll please!): online ouija boards. Not only can spirits be bothered to move an actual planchette in the physical realm, but they can also use a mouse to move a virtual planchette on a virtual ouija board. Spirits can be a wily sort though. I'm thinking they don't have much free time, what with all the hauntings, seance appearances, and ouija summonings they have to deal with. Doesn't make me envy them at all.

Click here to see the site with the virtual ouija board that I tried out a while back.

Good luck getting any kind of useful knowledge. My spirit(s) couldn't decide whether I was a friend or enemy; whether he/she/it was male or female; and whether or not I was worth even talking to at all.

And before you go sashaying out into the world of virtual spirit communication without a care, take a look at this etiquette page. (I broke a couple of no-nos right off the bat; for instance, never ask the spirits when you are going to die!. By the way, if I happen to die in the spring of any given year, the ouija spirit was right. Of course he/she has a 25% chance of being right on any year!)

Awesome Freddie Mercury Photo for Day Five!

This picture speaks for itself. Who else could rock a unitard and ballet slippers like this?!

Freddie Mercury: The Flower!

Did you know there is a rose called Freddie Mercury? Well, there is and has been for quite some time (I forget the exact date, but I think I was in high school or around then; so maybe 10-14 years or so).

Here is a photo of it:

Day Three of Mercurial Awesomeness!

Okay, this is a post in Uncyclopedia about Freddie Mercury. It is pretty dang funny.

Uncyclopedia: Freddie Mercury

And you'd better damn well click it. But, in case you are too lazy to, here is an excerpt:

"Freddie Mercury or His Holy Greatness (Killer) Queen Frederick of Mercury and the Entire Universe of Everything Awesome (incarnated September 5, 1946), singer, front man, author, opera diva, boxing champion, bullfighter, taxidermist, bike racer, ballet dancer, and eventual deity, is best remembered today for his many international hits and for conquering the world. It is said that Freddie Mercury's voice can stop Humphrey Bogart in his tracks, and he is accepted as the greatest singer of all time, despite what those biased, hypocritical assholes at Rolling Stone wrote about him..."

Super Happy Fun Time Day Two: More Freddie Mercury!

Here is a cool video I found a while back. It is a speed painting of Freddie Mercury.

Time for Happiness: Freddie Mercury Style

I was trying to think of something that makes me happy. Then it dawned on me. It wasn't a thing that makes me happy, but rather a someone: (you've probably deduced this already) Freddie Mercury!

I'm going to try post an interesting Freddie Mercury related video, picture, or fact every day for a month. I may not get them all posted on precisely the day intended, but at the end I should have 30 Freddie Mercury posts in 30 days. We'll see.

So for the first day we have:




Old news, but I haven't heard any developments on it in a while. I'm not sure how I'll feel about the finished product, but since the other band members are involved it shouldn't be too bad.

Angry Time...Revisited

I was doing better for about a week. Then this past Thursday it came back with a vengeance. The anger. The fury. The self-righteous indignation (all right, you caught me, there was nothing righteous about it at all really).

But it was there. It is what it is. I can't keep on allowing myself to get so angry about things. Yet, I don't really know how to stop. It just sort of happens, the same way depression can cause a sudden unbidden crying spell. It's just that instead of crying it is fury or anger that occurs unbidden.

I don't like being an angry person. I don't really know that anyone does, but it really doesn't work for me. I try to be laid back about things in general. Anger doesn't mesh well with that.

Working out seems to help, but I can't exactly work out every time I get angry. I'd quickly get overtraining injuries. Hopefully I can think of something else that works as well.

Big Bottoms!

I've talked about it before. Hey, I even consulted with Dark Hater from the Hatterazi show about it. I'm talking about my butt. ;)

Well, I guess I'm talking about big butts in general. Most women fall into the category of what's popularly called either a pear shape or an apple shape (there are other oddly titled shapes, but the most common ones I see and hear talked about are these two). Even if a woman is pretty even and proportional (which is generally when she is in good shape without excess body fat), she may tend to put on fat in one of these "shapes".

I've talked about this with many women, and generally it seems we mostly have a "grass is always greener" type of attitude. For instance, I think apple shapes tend to be more attractive. I talked with a woman last week who has an apple shape, and she thinks that pear shaped women tend to photograph better and look smaller.

Anyway, back to big bottoms. I tend to have one. Even though I'm not overweight, I have a proportionally larger butt, hips, and thighs when compared to my upper body. And, as a toast to my fellow pear shaped women, I've compiled a few videos celebrating our most noticeable feature! Make the most of what you've got. :)

Flash Fiction

When I mention flash fiction, most people don't know what I'm talking about. It's basically really short prose pieces. Some definitions state that the word limit is under 1000, while other definitions don't specify a word count. It's also sometimes called short-short fiction.

Anyway, I've written lots of flash fiction. I haven't written much lately, but in the past I really churned out "story snippets" as I then called them. I was happy to find out that I was far from alone in enjoying this writing format.

Below are a couple of flash fiction pieces that I've written.

"So, here we are."

"Yeah. I never would've thought that we'd be together like this again."

"Especially not here of all places."

We stood outside the little cafe where we'd had our first date over thirty years ago.

He had a little less hair and a little more gut. I was a little saggier and had gray roots. All in all we weren't too bad looking though.

"So, you want to come back to my place?" he asked.

"On a first date? What kind of girl do you take me for?"

Of course we both knew I was joking. Hell, we'd been married for ten years, then not for the next twenty.

"I'll follow you in my car."

Once we were back to his place we had a few drinks, reminisced, then went to bed. We had the kind of sex you'd expect from two slightly tipsy, middle-aged, exes: mediocre.

As I went to the bathroom afterward, I noticed stubble in the sink, dirty laundry overflowing from the hamper, and that the toilet seat was up.

I remembered then all the reasons it didn't work the first time and I added yet another relationship to our collection. Once friends, once husband and wife, once enemies, and now once, we were a one night stand.

written 4/17/08


Too Late

It’s too late. I’ve been philosophizing the merits and pitfalls of death. There are fears and hopes. Fears of leaving behind everything familiar, of the unknown, of passing the point of no return. Hopes of leaving all earthly concerns, of not having to worry about this mortal realm.

My thoughts are cut short by the pain though. I can barely breathe. My throat hurts, and my neck is raw and burning.

Somewhere between the thoughts of carrying my plan through and hearing the chair hit the floor, I realize it’s too late for second thoughts. I curse my braveness of acting in solitude. There would be no accidental intruders for some time yet. I wonder what they would think when they saw me, but again, my thoughts turn back to my pain. As I dangle from my noose, I realize it’s too late to wonder.

written in 2005

Grrrr.... and Other Angry Thoughts

I've been up and down with the moods quite a bit lately. Today has primarily been an anxious and angry day. A bit sad at times, but mostly angry and anxious (it bore repeating!).

The anger is coming about the same way as the depression and anxiety: unexpectedly and without the ability to shut it off right away. I try to work around it or through it. I'm writing about it right now to try to alleviate some of the feelings. I'm so terribly angry right now. Not at any one thing in particular. Circumstances. My own feelings of inadequacy. My vulnerabilities. Myself. My choices in life. My poor judgment and the fact that I've allowed people to use me sometimes.

I know it's not constructive, but just like with the depression, the mood is here and I have to actively fight it off. It's not going quietly into that good night.

Things have just been eating at me. To quote Nietzsche (which if you're my friend on Facebook, you'll see I've been doing plenty of times tonight): "For justice speaks thus to me: 'Men are not equal.'" Life isn't fair. People do horrible things to one another on a daily basis. I am by no means trying to pretend that I am innocent of this. And I get angry about that too. I hate my shortcomings. I hate my lapses of judgment. Hate and anger. Bad emotions that I am not fond of. I acknowledge that they are natural, but I do not readily embrace them. Maybe that is part of the problem.

I know that I usually don't work through things in my life that cause me pain. I just try to go on in the face of them. It may take days or even weeks to work through a situation. But on the other side of that situation I've rarely, if ever, made peace with what happened. I've gotten to the point where I can function, but I've just sort of boxed off the hurt and confusing emotions so that they can't readily get to me on a day-to-day basis. I guess I forget (for a time), but I don't really forgive.

Then, when something happens. I'm going to pull another Nietzsche quote here: "My past broke open its graves, many a pain buried alive awoke: they had only been sleeping, concealed in winding sheets."

So more or less something will open up the Pandora's box of trapped feelings and unresolved problems. Thus, setting me back into a deep depression and a sea of turbulent emotions. I guess that's how I've always dealt with things. (And it could be why I have anxious dreams featuring a cast of characters from my childhood up to the present, all of whom are generally upset/disappointed/unhappy with me for some reason or another. And the dreams of pursuing someone who avidly avoids me and runs away. And of losing someone or something precious and never being able to get it back.

I know I'm not the only depressed person in the world, not by a long shot. But when you are depressed you sure as hell feel alone.

Lowered Expectations

I remember the Lowered Expectations skit from Mad TV, and I always thought it was kind of funny. Lately, however, I feel like my life theme could be lowered expectations. I know I'm being a bit melodramatic and self pitying again. I know things could be worse. I know that everyone has setbacks and disappointments. I try to remind myself of this when I'm feeling down, but it doesn't lift my spirits; rather it makes me feel bad for complaining and because other people are suffering. I feel petty.

Still, as I try to put things together, I struggle with things that I have no control over. I can't change the fact that my daughters have autism. I can't change the fact that I've recently had relationship problems. I can't change the fact that my plans have been altered, thus my I've had to lower my expectations in some respects.

To complicate my optimistic goals of working past my problems, I can't control my emotions all of the time due to my depression and anxiety. I have been doing what I can to combat bad moods, but it is a struggle. I'm leery of trying any other medications because I've been through some tough times with meds this past year. I want to work through this rough spot, and I hope that I'll feel better soon. However, whenever I'm struggling through a deep depression or anxiety attack I waver. I lose hope. I feel lost and alone.

Trying to describe this to people who don't understand depression is difficult. They either seem to think you can choose not to "feel" depressed and all of the things that come with it, or they treat you like you are unstable and not to be trusted. That's an oversimplification, but I've run into both types of people lately. I know being around someone who is depressed is not fun. Believe it or not, I actually do try to keep it to myself and not affect the lives of those around me too much. I don't want to be seen as a burden. I don't want to bring others down.

At the same time, I want people to be there for me. For me it's a fine line between letting a friend be there for me and feeling like I'm being too needy or being a burden to them.


On a lighter topic, here is a Lowered Expectations clip from Mad TV. It's supposed to be Bjork if she were using the dating service. : )

Life as Literature

As a writer (okay, so I haven't been getting much writing done lately, as I've been doing busy work to make money!), I often look at life as a source of material. I need to finish a long term writing project, rather than starting yet another one, but I just had an experience that inspired a passage.

For starters, this passage isn't totally true; I take a bit (sometimes a chunk would be a more accurate word) of real life and then go from there. Sometimes it turns out well, other times not so much. I think this one came out okay. If you disagree or have a comment feel free to share it with me.

Here goes:

She sat on the bed, arms wrapped around her calves, face resting against her bent knees. The only sounds I could hear were those of a wounded animal. She either didn’t notice or care that I was there, watching her exhibit the raw emotions only heartache and despair can cause.

“How long can a person do this?” I thought to myself as she let forth another low, guttural moan. It was punctuated by a sharp intake of breath, followed by a shuddering sob that again turned into the low moan. I wondered if I should try to comfort her. Would she welcome my touch or feel it was an intrusion into what was clearly a powerful experience for her.

I retreated from the room, hoping not to disturb whatever catharsis she may be achieving through her ritual of grief. 

A Better Title!

Looking at my past few blog posts has me consider a more accurate blog title. I'm not being very random or going off on very many tangents lately. Mayhaps a more accurate title would be something like "Musings of a Middle-Aged Emo" or "Look at Me-- I'm Depressed!".

I won't actually change the blog name, but I thought I'd touch on the subject of my less than uplifting posts lately. If my mom were here she could tell me to quit crying or she'd give me something to cry about! Ah, tough love. ;) It never went over all that well with me, but it is funny in retrospect.

Ups and Downs

Throughout the day I vacillate between being stoked about taking control of my life and kicking it's ass to being filled with despair at the thought of going forward. Sometimes, for the sake of variety, I throw some anger and indignation in the mix.

I'm really tired of this. Every few months I seem to have a cycle like this (or some other emotional upheaval that I feel inadequate to deal with). I feel like I'm not in control of my emotions sometimes. I feel like a prisoner to my body and it's whimsies. (If you can't tell, I'm a bit prone to melodramatic statements; that makes my feeling of them no less true though)

I am so tired and weary of these cycles. I've tried medicines, with some varying success and failure. I'd love to have counseling/therapy, but there's no way I can afford it. I'm not sure how to come out of this mess on top.

Working out and controlling my diet seem to give me some feeling of power over my life and bring me some joy. Otherwise I feel like everything is just crashing in on me. I do what I can, and when I'm optimistic I hope for the best. When I'm pessimistic I'm just sure that I'll endure somehow, regardless of what shape I might be in at the end.

I need to quit putting myself in situations that will only further complicate things. My way of dealing with problems (if it's one I can't solve in a reasonable amount of time) is generally to distract myself from the problem at hand with something else. I can't easily forgive or forget. That goes for me as well as others.

Bored and Unfocused

I've been having lots of trouble concentrating and focusing on things lately, mostly due to emotional issues. I feel like a big baby for complaining, moping, and being so caught up in my bad moods, anxiety, and depression. Life goes on whether or not I want it to.

The girls are out of school for the summer, and I always have trouble trying to entertain them during our long, unoccupied days. Which in turn gives me more time to get down about things. I have less time to get work done without interruptions and less time to work out (which is a big stress reliever for me).

I feel guilty complaining that I have less time for things because the girls are home from school, but honestly many things are difficult to do with the girls home all day. Running errands, shopping, and doing anything that involves going somewhere are limited, if not impossible to do if I am the only one here with the girls.

I am going to try to focus on doing structured activities with them part of the day, then working part of the day, then taking care of their needs/house work the rest of the time. Easier said than done, as I'm very laid back as far as schedules are concerned. Still, I think that would probably be the best for all concerned.

Hopefully this will keep me busy and keep my mind off of less appealing topics. Probably not though, as I tend to gravitate to unhappy things. If I could harness that into something productive I'd have it made!