Santa...who?

Merry Christmas! This morning my family woke up to the sound of bells ringing. Well, actually, the first thing I heard was my sister saying "there is a crazy person downstairs ringing a bell, get Mom!" The kids ran down and saw that it was Santa coming through the door at the exact time my dad usually gets home from work, 5:30am. He ended up coming home later because of the icy roads.

Later in the day, due to the arrival of more nieces and nephews, Santa came again while my dad was taking a nap. The weirdest thing was that when everybody was taking pictures, my sister yelled at old St. Nick, "Look at the camera, Dad."

Is there some sort of a connection?

Paragraphs

As you may have noticed, I've starting using paragraphs. I was looking over old papers to piece together my senior portfolio and I saw many remarks along the lines of "separate your ideas!" So, I'm going to try to do that. Also, I realize that I overuse commas. I'm trying to be more aware of these problems so they can be minimized.

Thank you for your time.

I'm dreaming of a full ashtray

I have to quit smoking! I don't WANT to quit smoking, but I know it's time. I just can' t continue because, well, when would I ever stop?

Here are my thoughts on this new endeavor.

Quitting
With my pack and my lighter I look so neat
when I get all ready to have a smoky treat

Cool people go outside to have some smokes
we laugh and puff and tell funny jokes

Smoking's my excuse to leave a lame place
And I skip exercise because of my smoker's pace

Having a cigarette is my "prayer time"...burning incense to the Lord
It's also a good pastime for those times that I'm bored

I've spend many dollars on packs from Convenient
or sometimes I could bum, if I found a smoker that was lenient

Turkish Golds, Parliments, or in Austria, a red
Marlboro, I'd never order because I don't know how it's said

I love just having a smoke with whoever's around
you may give away your lucky and a new friend is found

Will we be doing this when we're no longer young?

No because by then ashes will have ruined my lung

Snack Attack

My dad has a habit of making really interesting snacks and feeding them to us at really interesting hours. We'll be sitting in the living room and he'll walk in with a plate of assorted cheeses and pepperoni like it's completely normal to have finger food on a random Tuesday night. If we're all watching a movie, he'll leave for a good half an hour to make enough popcorn for everybody to have their own overflowing bowl.

Last night we were laying around talking about the possiblity of going outside on the roof. I rejected the idea on account of the fact that my dad would probably stick his head into the room to ask if anybody wanted homemade funnel cake, which has happened before. Then we'd be busted because the roof is off limits.

We decided to stay in the room and good thing we did because three minutes later my dad walked into the room with mugs full of strawberry milkshakes for us all.

The Last Shall Be First

Today was the penance service at church. I hate being late, but this afternoon we were running out the door about five minutes before confessions started. When we passed the bank, it was one o' clock on the dot. When we arrived at the church parking lot, it was packed. Our parking spot was in the very top row. We ran into the church, a little windwhipped and breathless. I followed my dad along the back and up the side of the nave. Our priest was at the pulpit reading an act of contrition, so we just wanted to slip in the side. We genuflected at the first row, but the people standing there didn't budge. We quickly moved to the next row, but the people there wouldn't let us in either. Bewildered, I looked at all the people in the pews, but they wouldn't meet my eye. "Okay" I thought "we'll just stand along the back." It wasn't until I was against the wall that I noticed that people weren't just randomly standing at the end of the pews, they were in lines. They wouldn't let us in because they didn't want us to cut in line! I was outraged. I kept thinking how un-Christian they were. I couldn't even concentrate on a word Fr. Bill was saying. I stood leaning on the wall, with arms crossed, having a stare down with the crucifix. Who do these people think they are, Lord?...They probably only come to Church once a year...They better confess their rudeness! Eventually, I settled down into prayer. Father came to the front of the church to explain how the lines would work. It turned out that people had formed those lines on their own, and he had actually planned for everybody to stand along the walls. Suddenly, my spot, furthest from the front, against the back wall, was the front of the line! My eyes snapped to the people who were in the front row, shuffling along to join the lines of 50-60 people. When I was turned around, I noticed a family with three young boys coming through the door. I immediately let them take the place in line directly in front of me because they would be waiting hours otherwise. My wait was about ten minutes and as I left, I laughed and thanked God for all the lessons He's been teaching me this Advent.

The Nanny Diaries

As of December 26th I will be putting my college degree to use...as a nanny! Life sure can be surprising sometimes, but honestly I wouldn't want it any other way. I'm sure I'll be blogging about the funny, crazy, cute things my kids say...and also about my weekend adventures in the big apple ;)

Graduation!

Sorry, I've been writing TONS lately, but it's all been for stupid school so I can get my stupid diploma. Here's my schedule:
Right now, finish two papers.
4:30-6:00 Happy Hour
6-7 Nap
7-bedtime Pack, hang-out, study
Tomorrow morning LAST FINAL EVER, turn in papers
all day Pack up my whole life and cry a river
4-8 work
night Hang out
Thursday Airport
HOME

A look back...

In honor of the fact that I'm leaving for Austria tomorrow morning, I decided to paste a few snippets from the blog I had while I was there for the first time...

"ok, austria is like too good for words. i live in a castle! haha not really but it's a really nice old monestary that doubles as a hotel! and i would be perfectly content living out the rest of my days here. well, that is if the karatause could be moved to america. but seriouly. my room is adorable. me and cali kate and becca are like triplets. everything we own is like in a line...from the beds to the hooks in the bathroom. i discovered this stuff called nutella and i believe it may be the reason that i am called to live in austria. seriously, it's like 20382 times better than peanut butter. annnnd it's good on everything ESPECIALLY peanut butter. it's like a chocolate, hazelnut spread and apparently you can get it at aldi's in the usa? i'll definitely be bringing some home. it seems like i've been here a lot longer than i have. i'm already adjusted! classes start tomorrow. i'm pretty excited."

"i've found a second love (next to nutella) and their names are paprika pringles. i love them. but i have to contain myself so i don't have to pay for double the plane seatage coming back"

"we drank an entire bottle of wine. one bottle you say? ok, this was an extra large bottle...i think there were like 6 or 8 glasses worth in there. anyways, me and my triplets got our drinkin goin' on. we were loud. i fell. a lot. we tried to sleep on the street...? an RA came to the door when becca screamed bloody murder because catherine came in the room. hmmmm i tested the unbreakable water bottle by hurling it against the wall. i announced to everybody in gaming, via the window, that i love boys. by the end of it all i was sleeping in a bed full of zimmel crumbs, soaking wet from the fact that i can't drink water properly (even sober...i swear i have hole in my lip). we had to wake up the next day, pack and get on the bus very bright and early."

"We traveled by bus, train and airplane all day, reeking havoc and creating ruckus wherever we went"

Ah! That's just a little look at how much fun I had in my semester abroad. Anyways, I'm leaving tomorrow and staying for five days. Happy Thanksgiving everybody!

I am

I am sad that I lost my favorite pen
I am angry that my ex-boyfriend cut me out of his life entirely (aka de-friended me on facebook)
I am annoyed that I can never find anything to wear in the morning
I am frustrated that I don't know for sure if my GPA will be high enough to graduate
I am nervous that people will stop loving me if I have a bad day
I am terrified of unconditional love
I am livid because Obama is our new president
I am disappointed that no matter where you are girls can still be exclusive bitches
I am drained by the constant pressures and committments in my life
I am hurt...

I am happy that I'm going to Austria in a little more than two weeks
I am ecstatic that I will be starting my new job soon
I am comfortable in my cozy house and driving my crazy car
I am blessed that my life is so led by the Spirit
I am loved when my roomate and I do hilarious things
I am excited for the twinkles going through intensity
I am content with the storylines of Gossip Girl, Grey's Anatomy, and The Hills (haha!)
I am going to be okay...

You're so vain...

Do you like my new scarf? I know it just looks simple...nothing worthy of a second glace. But to me, it's perfect. The colors look like autumn. Also the added bonus is that it's Betsey Johnson and I must say, I love Betsey Johnson in the twisted way that Catholic school girls love wearing red lace panties. Her style is so not me, I've been to a couple of her stores and I felt like a complete outsider. Amidst all the dainty dresses, I looked clunky and far too preppy. Yet something about her crazy and tacky designs make my covered-with-the-Ralph-Lauren-pony heart soar! I cannot wait for the day that my husband says "My pregnant hormonal wife gets whatever she wants," and I can name my first daughter, Betsey!! Then someday when she claims that I'm too safe and old fashioned, I'll tell her about her namesake.

I've been duped! Or was I?...

I missed a lot of televised entertainment in the year of 1994. I was 8 years old and I had made a bet with my father. If I could stop watching TV for one year, he would give me..........ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS! Throughout the year, I kept busy doing homework or reading while everybody was gathered around the tube. It was also a great guilt trip for my siblings and parents when they would just sit down to watch something and I would appear with a deck of cards or to request a game of street tennis. My brother made a similar bet, but it was for fifty dollars and he had to stop playing nintendo. He made it two weeks, haha. At the end of that year on New Year's Day at the stroke of midnight, my dad handed me $150 (a bonus because he never thought I would make it). A small fortune! I felt like the luckiest kid on earth and I had worked hard for my money. Nowadays, I spend more than I made that year for a one night stay at the Hampton Inn. The thing is though, as an adult I have particular shows that I watch every week but I can never seem to be the kind of person to just sit down and suck my life away in front of the TV. I have a feeling that my dad's gift to me 14 years ago was more than just the cash.

My Boxes

So, I have these boxes. There are about 15 of them. They are shoeboxes and they are in the closet back at my parents house (these, my hope chest, and my shelves full of books are the only things that are actually mine in my old room). The reason I started this collection was because when I was in sixth grade my best friend had a boyfriend. And to celebrate this beautiful and sacred week long relationship, she had collected little artifacts that she could call "theirs." There were movie ticket stubs, the CD that they both loved, his notes to her...things like that. This gave me an idea and right then and there I decided that I would start filling a shoebox too, just for me and my memories. Throughout my junior high, high school, and college years I dumped everything from broken keychains to my well kept journals into my boxes. I saved everything that I knew had some sort of feeling attached to it. My plan is to go through it someday and throw out what I don't need (the warranty for my walkman from 7th grade, perhaps) and the rest, well that'll be exciting for my kids to look through someday, won't it?

Are You Kidding Me?

It's been said that there will be snow on the ground by morning! I think I'm still in denial....

He never cried in front of me...

How was I supposed to know?
He was slowly letting go
If I was putting him through hell
well - I couldn’t tell
He could’ve given me a sign
And opened up my eyes
How was I supposed to see?
He never cried in front of me
Without a doubt, I know now
How it ought to be
Because he’s gone and it’s wrong
And it bothers me
Tomorrow I’ll still be asking myself-
How was I supposed to know?
[adapted lyrics from She Never Cried In Front of Me by Toby Keith]

The Dynasty

Here it is...Kate Camden (my big), Meghan Bartnick (Kate's other little), Joanna McCullogh (my little), and Kate Butters (Joanna's little)!!

The two newest twinks in our fam are Genevieve (Meghan's little) and Brigid (my little).

Ahh, I love our family ;)

A moment for a reminder

No matter what kind of relationship structure you are in, dating, being married, part of a group- family, team, class, or sisterhood, the Golden Rule still stands tall and proud as the SINGLE MOST IMPORTANT thing we've ever learned about relationships, and we learned it in kindergarten. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." It's simple; it's basic; yet, it still isn't getting into some people's heads. The way most see it, there are two ways of treating a person, you either love them or you hate them...we hear this expression all the time. But have we forgotten one important emotion? What about the people that you nothing? They don't receive your love, but don't even deserve your hate. I, for one, am deeply hurt when somebody nothings me, much more than if they would just hate me. So, in following the golden rule, there is not one person that I nothing. Think about your day to day, is there anybody towards who you act indifferent? If there is, well, you should think about heading back to grade K. Put yourself in that person's shoes and you'll realize what a lose/lose situation it is to be nothinged. We're adults now, so in this stage it is important to take this rule one step further. What do people do for you? Have you returned the favor? If we assume that everybody is following the golden rule, then they are doing for you what they themselves would wish you could do for them! The girl that always invites you even if she knows you'll say no?...Somewhere deep inside of her is a longing to feel like she belongs and have the same considerations shown towards her. In case you're not already really confused, let me just point out one more thing. In any relationship, there are so many pitfalls; lack of communication is one of the biggies. For example, your girlfriend has a need but doesn't express it to you. How will things ever change? We need to break down the walls...help each other...love each other...need each other...pray for each other...be for somebody else what you would want for you.

They know best

I had one of those nights last night where I was too tired to do anything other than lie in bed, but my mind was too awake to actually fall asleep. For some reason I started thinking about something that happened a long time ago.
I was about seven years old and I was sitting at my kitchen table playing with fuse beads. Remember those things? I was making some rainbow colored something when I heard my dad calling me. "Laura!" I ignored it. "Luke, Laura, Elizabeth!" It was a request for the three youngest kids- He wants us to do a chore, I thought. "Come on kids" my mom chimed in, "your dad needs you to come out to the car." There are probably groceries to bring in, or worse, he wants us to clean out the van. Finally, my dad came in and actually found me, ordering me to go outside. I don't remember exactly what I said but I'm sure it was along the lines of- WHAT? Can't you see I'm busy?? When I walked to the driveway though, what I found was my siblings playing with a kitten. On his way home from work, my dad had seen a sign advertising kittens and stopped to get us one.
I'll never forget the feeling I had after that...it was the first time I had ever felt remorse, and it was painful. My stomach twisted and my head felt light. Now that I'm older, I have to be able to use what I've learned to help me on life's journey. I think the mini lesson in all of this is simply, blindly obey God (or those who have God given authority over you, like parents) because THEY KNOW BEST.

Contemplations

Why is it that during my last semester of college I suddenly begin to LIKE school?! I'm serious, my classes are so great this semester. I feel like I'm retaining a lot of information that will be helpful in the long run. Of course, I will only need this stuff because when people hear "English major" they automatically assume that I have authority on what is and isn't a word, the correct grammar of everything, and knowledge of every book ever published. The important thing though is that I'll have a degree...and apparently, somebody told me once (high school guidance counselor...) that I'll survive life if I have a degree. So, basically, I'm set for whatever comes next, but I'm still loving the life of a student for the time being.

JOB FAIR

Finding a job on the internet is a lot like online dating. I've had my profile pasted on www.nannies4hire.com and www.greataupair.com for about a month now and have had a great response! It's fun getting to know people through e-mails, but I'm getting to the point now that I want to make a decision. So, I'll keep you updated on who is the lucky family that gets to have me live with them for the couple of years! Oh, how I wish there was a job entitled "TV watcher" because I would do that! I have a feeling I'd be promoted very often too. I just want to drink coffee, play on the computer, and then go to happy hour...maybe I can work for Dunder Mifflin...

Caller Id

I work at my school's info desk...here is a recent call my co-worker had...

Caller: What time are confessions today?

Switchboard: I'm sorry, they ended at 4:30.

Caller: Damn! (hangs up)

Aspirations

When I was little, I wanted to be Harriett the Spy. In fact, I used to hide in my hall closet behind all the coats and just listen to the commotion going on in the kitchen. Or I would hide behind the couch and watch my brother and sisters doing their homework through the mirror above the piano. I would even spell words for my brother when my mom was quizzing him. I can remember getting on the upstairs line as quietly as possible to listen to my sister's phone conversations, even though I had no idea what they were talking about. I listened to each and every one of the serious talks my parents had with whoever the troubled teen at the time was, by laying down next to the banister at the top of the steps. I observed, listened, and sponged all possible going ons in the Williams zone growing up. Nowadays, I feel like I keep pretty close tabs on "what's going on" with everybody...and everybody knows that if they are getting a call from me, I will have at least a little tidbit of gossip to dish. I don't know how this will effect my future, but I'm pretty sure being a sneaky little bitch is ingrained in my DNA by now. I wonder if I can find a job in the DETECTIVE field?!

To follow...

Last poem was kind of depressing. But unfortunately, I have more bad news. The school year started with the death of a dear friend and classmate. Also, I have renewed my status as single for now...but not loving it. Things are busy, crazy, and stressful, but I'll continue to write. I know I don't have any readers yet........but maybe someday!

My brother...

Luke’s Passage

Papa and Baba died
within five years of each other
abandonment to you
who never quite felt at home among six sisters
Grandparent’s house was your getaway
You knew that Papa would always listen
when parents misunderstood
and teachers overlooked
Luke, age 9 “I’m nice”
you carved into the warped wood by the house
But nobody heard
And loneliness found you in the alley
willing to try-
snuck into your backpack
masquerading
as just something
to take the pain away
Paper route highs
were hidden for years
High school came and
you were a pioneer
to followers with need to experiment
Popularity meant all night parties
Mornings meant homeroom
with tequila hangover and
nicotine under fingernails
But that was only fifty percent of the time
Other mornings you were couch spread
cupboards ransacked
Wads of rolled up cash
earned at my donut selling job
cleverly stuffed in hollowed copy of Harry Potter
had been found by you
and taken
because your dealers would take your life
But your need for the drug just grew greater
that you screamed at your mother
and wished death on your father
You were toxic
like everything you put in your body
that made your eyes too wide
and your skin ghostly and I was afraid
I needed to know you loved me
more than your deceit showed
So I did your homework
when you couldn’t keep up
And drove you around
when you lost your license
But enabling was not the answer
Because your graduation came
with no lesson learned
Back home
You balance on the edge of a bucket
in the garage- you get high
Not remembering that there greater
salvation than what burns in your hand
You gaze out the smeared window
family below on a high of hamburger and love
picnicking because life will go on without you
You can’t find your way out of the abyss
The only clear road you see
is the path of addiction
so you take it

We Met On A Monday

We Met on a Monday by Liz (my sister)

We met on a Monday
I should have said no
You asked me to golf with you
And I agreed to go

I tore up the grass
But you didn’t seem to care
I could tell that you liked me
That special feeling was there

As we were out on the green
It became quite clear
When you showed me how to swing
It was just so we could be near

At the end of the date
You took me to my door
And when you kissed me once
My heart begged for more

That night as I lay
I thought back on my day
And decided
There was something
I just had to say

It couldn’t wait
Our meeting had been fate
I had to tell you
I feel in love with you on our first date

You were silent at first
My stomach felt sick
“Are you there, my love?”
But all I heard was
Click.

We met on a Monday
I should have said no
Because now I’m here
Loving you
Not able to let go

Rewrites

Beautiful Day on Lake Erie

Sunrise finds us camping on the beach.
Seagull alarm clock awakens
heavy eyelids, burning from last night’s campfire.
For breakfast, a mountain pie
toasted and steaming,
marinara and mozzarella.
Feet thrusted into the sand,
watching slow wake ups
and dutiful trips to the water spicket.
New friends at neighboring campsites stop by to
make plans for Rummy 500 after dusk.
The subtle waves beckon to us and our rafts.
But, first we will go to the camp store-
everything that you forgot you needed,
until you did.
The sun kissed seven,
plus our parents.
We’ll sucker our Dad into buying us a kite,
and Mom will pick up some pop tarts.
But we need to see if they sell water shoes.
You see, yesterday my flip flops
were buried in the sand,
and I didn’t notice
for six hours.





The Hammock Swing

Wooden shoulders
attached to the ceiling with a hook
and a net hanging down,
a sailboat- with nothing underneath
but the breeze.
This is where my sister sits in the summer,
tanned legs swinging.
The corner of the porch
seems like the corner of the world.
A place to observe
or read
or talk
on the phone
for hours.
The crisscrossed ropes are a dream catcher,
all bad things blocked
and only the good let through.
For me to look at her
I tilt my head upwards.
We sit,
laugh,
and dream.
Later we’ll argue about when to turn out the light-
She’ll bother me for gas money,
I’ll criticize her friends.
But for now,
"Everything's going to be all right" she teaches me.
She leans back with night sky behind.
"It's us against the world."
She's a quiet piece of furniture-
my guru.

First Day of Class

Dr. Holmes:
"Let me just check the rooster." (meaning roster)

"Mini-series without the n and the i would be miseries. I don't have dyslexia but I do sometimes drop letters out of words. Like the other day I was looking for the faculty lounge and all I could find was the faulty lunge."

"I have had quite a summer. Let me get drunk sometime and tell you all about it."

Dream Interpreting

See if you can figure this one out...
Last night I had a dream that it was my wedding day. It was four hours until the big moment, and I was in my pajamas. Every time I thought about jumping in the shower, somebody else would get there first. I looked around for my dress, before remembering that I had left it at school. I knew I didn't have enough time to go get it, so I started looking for something else to wear. I tried on my sister's old wedding dress (but in the dream the dress was blue with long sleeves) Then some lady came over with a beautiful wedding dress on and I thought she was going to let me use it, but she said it was what she was going to wear to my wedding. Everybody was bringing dresses to my house, but they were just dresses, not wedding dresses. After I had tried on a tacky Christmas sweater, I said enough is enough, I had to go to the mall. I was waiting on two of my bridesmaids, one that was suppose to do my hair, and the other in charge of my makeup. Since I was leaving, I had to change my plans. I asked my maid of honor to get me a hair appointment, but she wouldn't get out of bed. My other bridesmaid said we didn't have any money in the wedding budget to go anywhere. Finally, I walked into my livingroom and my mom told me that they were able to order a dress that would be Fedex-ed to me in the next 30 minutes. I asked if it was white, and they said no- ivory. I started crying and saying that I waited 22 years to have sex just so I could wear white on my wedding day. Oh and my reception was at a ski lodge. I had not done any of the planning.

Shurvay

How long until your birthday?
3 years and five months

Who got married at the last wedding you went to?
Emily and Mike

Are you better at math or art?
Well I suck at both actually...

Who was your 4th grade teacher?
Miss Petty

Who was your best friend in 7th grade?
Anne Minich, Lauren Phillips, Brittany Weaver, and Nicole Rice...we called ourselves the Wave Five!

Did you go to pre-school, if you went at all?
Yes, Christian Playday

Who was the last person you called?
My boo

What's your favorite brand of gum?
Trident

Do you own a digital camera?
Of course, it's 2008

Have you ever had a pet fish?
Many! Lizzie McGuire was the best!

Are you taller than your mom?
I think about the same height

What's on your wish list for your birthday?
Books, diamonds, a car, and uhhh baking soda toothpaste

Does the future make you more nervous or excited?
Excited!

Something you hate more than anything?
People

Do you like surprises?
Only if I know it's coming

Do you miss someone?
All my family

Do you believe that everything happens for a reason?
Yes

What's your most favorite scar?
I don't think I have any

What did the last text message say that you received?
Hills tonight!

How many kids do you want to have?
Anywhere from 2 to 8

Where was your default picture taken?
In my house on Easter

What was the last TV show you watched?
Mad Men

Are you wearing socks?
No way

What's the last thing you ate?
JELLO

Last movie you watched?
Hotel Rwanda

What do you hear right now?
People talking

How many hours did you sleep last night?
Seven...then a two hour nap in the afternoon

Are you sarcastic?
Never...

Are you shy?
Sometimes...

Are you talkative?
Not really

Who's the last person you talked on the phone with?
The kind people at my school's info desk

In the past week have you gotten sick?
Sore throat

In the past week have you felt stupid?
Probs

What were you doing at 9 am this morning?
Sleepin'

What do you want to name your kids?
I'm not writing that on here! I don't want copy cats!

Do you always get along with your siblings?
Most of the time

Do you feel like you've got some growing up to do?
Oh yeah

What's the age difference between you and the last person you kissed?
Five years

What is the last thing you had to drink?
H2O

Do you give into peer pressure easily?
Ch-yeah

Who's the last person that texted you?
One of my old roomates

Do you have a cat?
Lordy no...well, except Sneaky the neighborhood stray

How would you describe your clothing style?
Poverty

What's your favorite thing in your room?
My bed :)

Do you like carrots?
Only the baby ones

Is your best friend single?
Yes, but I know she will be swept up soon because she's so beautiful and smart and wonderful!

Do you like coffee?
Iced

What made you laugh yesterday?
I have no recollection

Breakthrough for Bigfoot Enthusists Everywhere!

http://www.newsday.com/news/nationworld/ny-usbigfoot0819,0,1691479.story

Check this out! This is especially exciting to me because I've always believed in Sasquach (sp?) and Nessie of Loch Ness. Have you ever seen the show Monsterquest?! It is amazing :)

We are FAMILY

Believe it or not, this is group is missing one nephew, one brother, and three brother in laws!

I'm not SUPERstitious, I'm just a little bit stitious

Busy does not even begin to describe me right now. I have a test at one, a quiz at three, a final at five, six pages of a paper to finish by nine (when the computer lab closes, I don't have a printer), a homework assignment and another final tomorrow morning. I shouldn't be writing but I noticed that I left my blog with 13 posts....and that's BAD LUCK!

This is my life

So I was working at Switchboard (or Switch-bored, I should say) and the electricity went out. Immediately, I picked up my bullhorn and set the siren off because how else was I going to let everybody know that there were no lights? By the light of the moon, I saw three people dressed like camels sneaking into the elevator, so I ran downstairs to see what was going on. I also had to buy some cough drops from the bookstore. While I was pulling out my wallet, an eighty seven year old factory worker started making conversation with me. She basically wanted to know where I bought my sweater (borrowed it from my sister) and what was my favorite color. I told her red and she said it was her favorite too. Only I was lying....it's green!! I began to get nervous because of the amount she was touching my ears, so I excused myself. I remembered that it was time to distribute the wine & beer, only it seemed that everybody was already drunk. So I loaded it into my car, turned on the lights, sat at my desk, and made up this story.

Work Weekend

For some CRAZY reason (a need to pay bills and rent) I took two eight hour shifts this weekend. I know that's a normal work day for most people, but my hours are 4pm-12am. It's been an hour and fifteen minutes so far...and I've run out of entertainment. Is it true that only boring people are bored? If so, I'm a BORE. Really though, it wouldn't be so bad except I'm. just. having. a. really. hard. time. (To quote the emo kid on accoustic at the talent show last year) I woke up today at the time my class was supposed to end. I went there...in my pajamas...bawling crying...because my paper was worth nothing since it was turned in late. I have next week of class and one big assignment to redeem myself but I hope it wouldn't be Too little, Too late. I'm so over this summer class thing. I'm already counting on a D- in Spanish. How sad is that? I will be overjoyed for that grade! The icing on the cake though is that my allergies are freeeakin out right now so I have not been able to exercise, or do anything fun outdoors. Not even drink on my porch! Boo hiss. Sorry for venting, I may post something else a little later. For now, I'm going to see what's good to eat around here ;)

Textin'

Boyfriend (w/ pulled muscle): my leg needs a message :)

Me: i think you need a massage, dear. if your leg needed a message, you had better buy it a cell phone...

Computer Problems

...Sorry, my computer has been out of commission for the last couple of weeks and I've been too busy to look into the problem...I'll try to have it fixed soon and start writing...
Thanks for your patience!

Men

“Men! For as boy crazy
as I’ve been my whole life,
I sure can’t stand them!”
(Down With Love)

One of six sisters, I am a girly girl. Guys friends? Only if they LIKE to shop and watch Lifetime Movie Network. Boyfriend? Check. Long term? Check, it’s been six months. Secrets of the weird and wonderful world of men cracked? Not check and frankly still thinking it’s more weird than anything else…
Guys don’t floss their teeth daily. Furthermore, they think that swishing with mouthwash is sufficient teeth brushing for busy days. They have no reservations about using your body towel to dry their hands after washing…without soap. Guys come over for dinner and don’t think it’s wrong to open a bag of chips…a minute before the timer goes off. And when you pull a beautiful platter out to put the meal on, you’ll find that your guy has already made himself a plate by folding up a paper towel into his hands. “That’s all right,” you’ll say, “I’ll pour you a glass of wine.” But, oh no, he prefers beer, the exact opposite of what would compliment your meal. Guys are great for taking out the trash or mowing your lawn. However, they will never, never notice that these things need to be done on their own. As they throw another pistachio shell that sends the piles of garbage into an avalanche, you may have to remind them “Honey, I think that garbage can is no longer taking new applicants.” Count your blessings though because most of the time his trash won’t find the can at all. If a man is further than a basketball free throw away from the wastebasket, you will find gum wrappers balled up under your couch, or stale coca cola dumped into your potted plant. The old “girl can’t get guy’s attention while ESPN is on” is very cliché. So, other than recommending feigning that your cable is out, I just want to warn that all you are during the game is the hand that delivers chicken wings. Maybe bring them in balanced on your head? That might get a laugh. They’ll cherish you later, once you’ve civilized them. For now, just bask in your role as the clear headed woman, and remember to smile, because that’s why he fell in love with you.

Fun poem for Dad

Dad, Daddy, Pops-this one’s for you

You prayed when you were young to someday find true love
You met her in tenth grade study hall, a gift from up above
You took her to Tom’s Pizza and then to see a play
You dared to boldly ask her, “How many kids will we have someday?”
You knew this girl was for you when she answered without a beat
“I suppose six or seven, now what are you having to eat?”

Beautiful Day

Sunrise finds us camping on the beach.
Seagull alarm clock awakens
heavy eyelids, burning from last night’s campfire.
For breakfast, two buttered pieces of bread
with blueberry filling seeping between
placed on hot coals
until toasted and steaming.
Today we will go into town.
The sun burnt seven,
plus our parents,
to shop for new shoes.
You see, yesterday my flip flops
were buried in the sand,
and I didn’t notice
for
six
hours.

"Then I met"

so, being typical 20 year olds, my friends and i talk about love and marriage...a lot. i just feel a lot of pressure seeing as my parents married at nineteen, my sisters all in their early twenties, and then there's me...not even dating anybody. anyways, to keep my friends and i from drowning ourselves in the bathtub, i have adopted a little philosophy. it's called "and then i met..." it's like this: when someday down the road i'm telling the story (of my life) i'll start with the things i have done in the past i.e. mostly just having good friendships with guys, dating a couple of guys but nothing too serious, dedicating a semester to God and not being involved with guys at all and finally being open to whatever vocation comes along. then the story will change with the words "AND THEN I MET" it doesn't matter at all what came before because after those words is whats important. you can predict all you want what will come after those words, but you will never know until it happens. i can say that i want to marry a man who's older than me, from a certain state, looks a certain way...but how can i know. it's all gonna change. and the best part is that if i'm living in God's will, it'll turn out in the absolute perfect way.

so, don't feel lonely. you never know what tomorrow will bring!

Baby Steps

It feels like I wrote this many moons ago. Please ignore the obvious plot holes and just enjoy one of my earliest attempts to put my mind on paper...

Baby Steps
I took my first steps here. I keep remembering this as I sit looking out at the city. I'm on the balcony of Charleston Commons. I've lived here, in the roof top apartment, since I was born. As I puff on my cigarette, the first in my pack of Parliaments, I think about the city below. About a block away, Central Park is quickly transforming from a spot where families have picnics to a place where everybody’s up to no good. I'll read all about the murders in tomorrow's newspaper. “Catch Up”, the diner where I work the late night shift is already scrubbed down and closed. I still smell like a mixture of grease and dish soap. I wonder if my parents had ever imagined that life would have turned out like this. I have a picture in my mind because I've heard the story about that night. My parents, newly wed, were sharing a glass of red wine and watching the twilight sky turn to coal. They sat delighted in their own little star, me. I looked up at them, pulled myself to the railing, and totted towards my father's lap. The first thing I did was reach for his tinted glass and smacked it out of his hands. We all watched as it hit the floor. The crash made me howl, but my parents found it hysterical. They used to love telling the story of my first steps. What a happy family we once were. Morty, Susan and Olivia Dodson. If they only would have known what the rest of life had in store for us.
As I sit, my fingers nervously twist the diamond ring on my finger. So much anxiety. Thank god I don't have to go to work tomorrow. It's been the biggest adjustment, having to work, pay bills, and not just having money whenever I need it. That's probably one good reason to go to the funeral tomorrow, so I don't have to waste my life away fake smiling for customers and serving up endless cups of coffee to dirty, pervy old men.
I rub my temples. I’ve been avoiding this. I can’t believe that it finally happened. I’d been expecting it for the last three years, since the cancer was found in his liver, but it had somehow snuck up on me like a burglar in an alley.
Ding Dong Ding.
The church bells toll that I've been awake for way too long. Regardless, I keep on tracing the outline of my engraved initials on the wood railing. O-C-D. As I lean back against the brick wall, I pull my blanket tighter around me. When I close my eyes, I imagine the priest with his arms spread wide.
“Dearly Beloved…”
I shudder at the thought, and try to focus on other things. Maybe I should call Jay back; he left me about a thousand voicemails today. No wonder, I left last night, in the middle of the night, when I heard the news.
“Olivia!” I jolt up at the sound of my name. My mother appears looking like the last thing on her mind is dealing with me. She dries her hands on a dish towel, and looks disapprovingly at my stack of M&M wrappers and empty cans of Diet Coke. They had all been consumed within the last two hours, but I won't tell her that. My mom is a tall, hardworking woman. She has graying hair, even though she's only in her late forties. Her career as a lawyer has kept her somewhat fashionable, if not a little stuffy. Right now, her main concern is obviously to make me miserable.

“I am not impressed with you right now, Olivia,” she says. “It's almost dawn, why aren't you in bed?”
"You're not sleeping either!"
"I live here!"
Her reply is dripping with resentment. I challenge her in a way that I know will hit her hard.
"Are you saying that this isn't my home anymore?"
She looks at me with her eyes saying it all. This could still my home if I wanted. It was my choice to leave. I settle back into my spot, staring out towards the horizon. I pull my dark bangs down over my eyes and flip the hood of my sweatshirt onto my head. I remember that she once told me about when I was born and how my eyes were larger than life and as blue as sea glass. She had explained that it was love at first sight and that's why she didn't have any more children; I was enough.
“Liv,” she starts with a different approach. “You know this is hard for me too…”
“I don’t want to hear it,” I cut in.
I don't appreciate her attempt at vulnerability, even though it’s a rare occasion and probably what I need the most. I choke back a sob that she doesn't see.
"Just leave me alone" I say to her back as she dejectedly walks away. Silently rebelling, I decide to stay in bed tomorrow and pretend none of it ever happened. Nope, my father is not dead. After all, he's been dead to me since his last whiskey goodnight kiss, the night before he went to jail. He had robbed more than an upper class family from suburbia; he had stolen all the love from my heart.
I've been married for exactly three months. I had thought that Jay would solve all my problems. We had met through a mutual friend and on the first night we had excitedly ended up at his place. The next morning we went out for coffee, which turned into lunch. I think it's bullshit when people say that "the rest is history." But for us, it really was. I've never felt so comfortable and secure with somebody as I do with Jay. I need to call him. As this thought leaves my brain, the door swings open and there he is.
"Liv!"
His concerned face melts me and I instinctively reach for him.
"Hey, baby" I whisper into his neck.
"I ran into your Mom at the door," he says as he settles down beside me against the wall. He eyes my snacks, knowing what it means, but decides to not pick that battle. I laugh at his goodness.
"You suck," I breathe to him as I exhale my cigarette.
"Your mom has gone completely nuts. And by the way, why is she baking at three in the morning?. I can't believe..."
I roll my eyes and shake my head. “She just wishes that I would never come home because she knows I’m just going to leave again. I’m pretty sure she’s the loneliest woman in the world. First, my dad became a complete stranger, then I guess I…” I’m thinking about how I left her too, but I don’t say it because I chosen to leave and marry the love of my life. “Betty Crocker is her best friend, ok?”
Jay completely disregards my comment and starts in on me. "Listen, I understand that you were upset last night, but you can't just leave without saying anything! I'm your husband."
"First of all, don't even act like you know what we're going through. My mom has been the strength of our family while my life ruiner, alcoholic father ran amok through the city. Although she didn't agree with us getting married at frickin' nineteen, she still paid for the entire thing. I really don't think you understand a thing about my life or why I just need to be left alone sometimes."
I'm angry now. He can divorce me for all I care. I reach into my purse and pull out a bag of marshmallows that I had been snacking on for the last week. He hates when I eat like this because he knows that it's the only time I do eat. It's the one thing that I can control. Nobody can tell me what to do. Jay decides once again to look the other way as I pointedly stuff my face.
"I can't stand you sometimes," I continue. "Why do you even try to put up with me? You can't possibly love somebody who leaves you in the middle of the night."
"Liv, your father died. This is a tragedy. I can't understand your pain because it's never happened to me, but I can love you anyways. Just yesterday we were dreaming about our future kid's names"
"And you told me that we would never have one named Morton," I interrupt.
"I was kidding! Sometimes people use their parent's names. I'm sorry that your father had such an awful one. It was just a joke, there's no way I could have known that he was going to pass away last night!" Jay looks frustrated but he stops his hand in mid air above my pack of cigarettes. "You only have two left, can I have one?"
I nod a halfhearted yes and try to figure out a way to stay mad. Why would he be smoking? He’s a straight arrow; always do the right thing kind of guy. I rest my head in my knees and drift in and out of awakeness and dreams. Drunken nights. Slamming doors. His empty spot at Christmas dinner. His feeble body crumpled on the floor. On the couch. In the bathtub, one time. Basically anywhere his drunk ass landed at the end of the night. I would laugh with him later as he told me weird things that had happened at the bar. The man that got a dart stuck in his back. The lady who slid out of a booth and split her dress. Why had I allowed it to be so normal? Why hadn't I told him how stupid he was being every time he called a cab and left the house with a wad of my mother's cash. His smile tried to say that he still loved me. His hangovers showed that he did not. Jay had never really known him. Our relationship came on too strong and too fast. I had used him to escape life here. Old Morty had understood that Jay was his replacement. Now I'm with Jay forever and will never have my father. Ever, ever again.
My body is starting to ache. I nudge Jay awake. We both watch the sun come up, then silently walk into the house. I go to my bedroom and he goes out the door and back to our place.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“OLIVIA CATHERINE!”
There’s a huge bat in my room! Oh wait, it’s just my mom. She’s completely decked out in black and is waving her arms at me. I look around. The sun had come out in full force. My eyes are stinging. What a headache. I bury my head into my comforter and say, “What part of ‘I’m not going’ don’t you understand?”
“That hurts me, Liv” she says as she flutters away.
Several hours later, I wake up again. I feel like I had slept for days. There are shadows drawn across my floor and there’s no trace of the autumn sun. I assume that it’s eight or nine in the evening and that I had slept through it all. I pull my cell phone out of my hoodie pocket and I can’t believe my eyes. It’s only three thirty! The sky is completely overcast. Strange weather. My phone has six missed calls and a text message. The message is from Jay. It says:
Missed u at the funeral. See u @ 4?
Something in me forces me to jump up and start getting ready. I splash cold water on my face and touch up my eye makeup. I throw on a polo shirt and ripped jeans. No need to look too nice. I grab my keys and pull my hair into a messy ponytail as I run out the door.
As I pull up to the cemetery thirty minutes later, I can see a small crowd gathered by the fresh grave. Hot boxing the whole way here had made me a little dizzy, so as I have another smoke, I put the windows down. Nobody’s noticed me yet. The radio is on quietly. I can only pick up one podunk country station out here.
Come on baby, baby let's go. Where we get the money, honey, I don't know. One more baby's alright by me. We'll just add another limb to the family tree.
My breath quickens. I decide right then and there to forget the alcoholic. Today I’ll say goodbye to my dad. I have missed him for quite sometime now, but finally it’s definite that he’s never coming back. I’m going to bury my anger along with his body and start a family that he would be proud of. As he looks on from the afterlife, I’ll prove to him that I’m somebody worth loving. I switch off the radio and get out of the car. I stand behind some of my mom’s business associates and nonchalantly look around. I see my mother and Jay. I look back to all the tombstones on the hill. I watch a rolling cloud change from dark to darker. My eyes fixate on everything else for as long as possible, but finally rest on the casket I can’t look away. My lower lip quivers and it starts to rain.
There is a rush to get into cars as the downpour starts, and I allow myself to get lost in the shuffle. Everybody intends on waiting out the rain, but I take the opportunity to leave. As I’m pulling into my parking spot, I notice that I had never checked my voicemail. Missed call from Dr. Evans. I hurriedly type in my password. A muffled nurse says, “Olivia...ack as soon…good news…ank you.” I call back and confirm what she had told me. Goosebumps run up and down my arm. I gingerly get out of the car, and trying not jostle my stomach too much, I climb the stairs and head to bed.
I lay awake in the silence of my room, the one that I painted myself when I was fourteen. All around me are remnants from my life here. I slide my hand into the drawer next to my bed and pull out a photo album my mom had given me for my fifth birthday. I study the blue and white cover, and almost have the urge to kiss it. When I open it, I see a gross little version of me with tubes up my nose, not even four minutes old. I flip a couple of pages. There it is. The picture taken on the day of first baby steps. We are all on the balcony. My mom’s hair is blowing in the wind and my dad is smiling impatiently, waiting for the self timer camera to take the picture. I am standing, looking oblivious to it all, not even knowing that a monumental occasion had just taken place.
The door to my room crashes open and Jay rudely says, “Wake up, Olivia!” I turn over and stick my middle finger straight up in the air.
“What’s that for? You’re the one who’s been sleeping all day while I deal with your mom and crazy aunts. Why didn’t you ever warn me about Martha? At our wedding she was so demure, but today she went psycho Nazi on me. Jay, bring me this…Can you help with that…”
“Ohh, I feel so sorry for you. You must be so sad to have a normal family. It must be hard to know that your father is alive,” I retort.
Jay looks at me and knowing that I’m only being mad to be just that, he softens his tone, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing!” My aggravated response makes him cower a little bit.
“Come on, I know you are sad about your Dad. But do you need to be such a spoiled brat all the time?”
“Yes actually I do,” I practically yell back.
“And why is that, little miss?”
“Because I’m pregnant, asshole!” The words stumble over a smile as they leave my mouth. Jay’s face lights up and he grabs me for a bear hug.
“I’m going to take such good care of you,” he says in his desperate people pleasing way. “You can stay here for as long as you want. Of course, I want you to come back home but whatever you want to do. I’ll get another job on the weekends and we can start saving up for a townhouse. Listen, if we have a boy, the name Morty is actually starting to grow on me.”
I can’t help but laugh and lead him down the stairs. My aunts tentatively give me hugs and ask what I want to eat. I tell them that I’m not hungry. After awhile, my mom comes out of the kitchen with a plate full of chicken, pasta salad, and green beans. My little cousin follows her with a piece of apple pie. Real food. They set down the food before me. I take a deep breath and start to eat. I silently nod to my mom. I will never be like him. My relationship with her will always be a top priority. We don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things, but she’s my favorite mama and I’m her favorite daughter. She pats my head almost as if she understands what I’m thinking, just by the fact that I am eating something other than a huge bag of starbursts in the middle of the night. She pulls my little cousin towards me and asks if I remember her. I held her when she was a baby, but have only seen pictures of her since. MJ is now four years old, and just looking at her I’m reminded of how fast life goes by. She looks at me in the face, thrusts her baby doll into my arms, and says “This is Bethie; she just learned how to walk!” I pull my baby cousin onto my lap and start to tell her the story of my first baby steps.

I don't know how...

I Don’t Know How To Write Poetry

I. How Do I Start?

I think of boys that sing, an engagement ring,
Wooden crosses, wins and loses,
The way a stranger talks, presents themselves, and walks,
Warm blankets, tea, the wind, how to have and be a friend
All these inspirations are completely in vain
Because my paper still sits here, hauntingly white and plain
I just sigh and keep trying because I just know it-
You have to think a lot to become a proficient poet

II. My Story

It was Paris at night, the whole city full of light
I looked as good on the outside as I felt on the inside
A French man, let’s call him Pierre, noticed my long, curly hair
He begged to sing me a song, which, since he added verses, would be pretty long
He saw that I was somebody who would be a wonderful wife
It wasn’t him I wanted because there was somebody else in my life
That special boy ended up being all wrong
He broke it off then gave a ring and a promise to a girl he’d been seeing all along
It was all very sad, the way he made me feel, I cried a lot on the seat by my window seal
Thinking about balances- the give and take, His sorrowful passion all for our sake
That cross is a symbol of love, a map- how to get from here to above
Ups and downs are part of the plan, the race the saints at one point ran
We try to help each other, even a stranger on the street
You may not know them now, but they might be someone good to meet
My best friends walk up and say hello
And I remember that the prize is worth the woe

Pastiche

A Pastiche (imitation) of “American Fat” by Russell Baker

Catholic boys don’t ask girls on casual dates anymore. Nowadays they like to meet, discern, and then marry. Show them a pretty, available girl and watch them analyze whether or not she would be a good wife until she gets fed up and moves on like a rock that has just been launched from a slingshot.
“The port” is a typical example. Years ago, only nuns and priests would have spent all their extra time in the Port. Now, it’s a hotspot for couples.
“The port” is a place to pray. Why has “just praying” become foreign to this campus? It’s a lovely time just between a person and God, without lots of complicated words and profound statements to impress another person.
This is supposedly romance at its very best. Praying is a great thing; it doesn’t call for another person; it is not something to be addicted to, to take over your life, or to create a spiritual connection so strong with somebody who you are not married to.
A girl met a guy the other day. He was on his way to Mass, apparently- a girl never pays too much attention when distracted by good looks. She asked him why he was going to Mass when it wasn’t Sunday.
The guy said it was “to pray for his future wife and to hopefully meet her!” – the mind’s Automatic Franciscan Boy Radar went off at this point. Seeds of gloom had been planted.
The guy’s obsession with getting married was given away. One shudders for this poor girl- “submissive wife” as he probably sees her- for it has to be an awful thing to be interested in a guy who goes to Mass to pray for a girl to get her M.R.S degree with him. He would probably also suggest asking the Lord for a huge billboard along the side of the highway that says “Ask her on a Date” before he invites her to the grotto for a midnight rosary.
Getting to the holding hands part of the process would require three novenas and the advice of a spiritual advisor. Having finally held her hand, he’s practically engaged.
Peace, students! Of course that’s a slight exaggeration, although “slight” is very emphasized.
We are to date around, all the while staying in the state of grace; until we find someone that we could spend the rest of our lives with.
The Franciscan way of dating- it might tell us something. Have people forgotten that we need to live our faith in everything we do? We take it too seriously when it comes to picking who we are going to date. It’s the boy who asks the girl, “Can I take you out to dinner?” It’s the girl who is going out with that boy and says yes when another boy asks, “Can I have your phone number?”
Casual dating has become unusual and frowned upon, as though we don’t need an outlet for our ever growing minds and spirits; a chance to find our potential spouses by literally eliminating all other choices. The boys are not to blame here; they are merely following other’s example.
There are guys that can’t bring themselves to ask a girl out, swallow their nerves, show some courage, wear the pants, get the phone number, but instead seek out girls at holy hour, or worse, infatuate themselves with theology and philosophy.
Franciscan University seems to be the only place in the universe with this problem. The couples are always praying, but the single people face long, dreary days of loneliness and solitude. Girls never have dates on the weekends, the act of sitting together at Mass shows that a couple is “pretty serious”, and all the fun of meeting new people is nowhere to be found.
Why do guys want to get married but are afraid to date?

The Hammock Swing

Wooden shoulders
attached to the ceiling with a hook
and a net hanging down,
a sailboat- with nothing underneath
but the breeze.
This is where my sister sits in the summer,
tanned legs swinging.
The corner of the porch
seems like the corner of the world.
A place to observe
or read
or talk
on the phone
for hours.
The crisscrossed ropes are a dream catcher,
all bad things blocked
and only the good let through.
For me to look at her
I tilt my head upwards.
We sit,
laugh,
and dream.
"Everything's going to be all right" she teaches me.
She leans back with night sky behind.
"It's us against the world."
She's a quiet piece of furniture-
my guru.

Hello!

Hi, my name's Laura and as this blog's title suggests, these are some of my stories, poems and free writes. Enjoy :)