#161 Write a mini-story (100 to 250 words ) that begins with: "They had nothing to say to each other."
They had nothing to say to each other. They were both in such shock that while their minds were reeling trying to figure out how, when, and why this had happened to them, they were speechless. They dumbly stared down at the little baby sleeping peacefully in its hospital bassinet that had just been dropped off in their room by one of the nurses. Anyone who took one look at the three of them in this room would know that this was not their baby. There was but one decision to be made. Do they take this baby--the baby they carried to term, the baby they thought was theirs for the last nine months, the baby that was supposed to be theirs-- and leave the hospital and love him as their own? Or, do they go down the long, emotionally and physically devastating, legal road and sue the doctors and hospital that somehow implanted the wrong embryo into her uterus. They finally look at each other and both know that they will choose the former but can only hope that their baby was not out there in the world somewhere unknown to them.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
http://www.creativewritingprompts.com/
# 305 List 20 rules you've broken.
20. No lying
19. No staying out after curfew
18. No food or drink
17. No underage drinking
16. No stealing office supplies
15. No shoplifting
14. No drugs
13. No trying on bathing suits without undergarments
12. No letting others use your prescription drugs
11. No sexual harrassment
10. No flip-flops at work
9. No personal calls on work phones
8. No sleeping at work
7. No taking the Lord's name in vain
6. No paying your rent late
5. No cheating
4. No hurting others
3. No putting gum under your seat
2. No talking during class
1. No sex in your parent's bed
Well this certainly paints a very different picture of someone. : )
20. No lying
19. No staying out after curfew
18. No food or drink
17. No underage drinking
16. No stealing office supplies
15. No shoplifting
14. No drugs
13. No trying on bathing suits without undergarments
12. No letting others use your prescription drugs
11. No sexual harrassment
10. No flip-flops at work
9. No personal calls on work phones
8. No sleeping at work
7. No taking the Lord's name in vain
6. No paying your rent late
5. No cheating
4. No hurting others
3. No putting gum under your seat
2. No talking during class
1. No sex in your parent's bed
Well this certainly paints a very different picture of someone. : )
http://www.creativewritingprompts.com/
#97 You wake up, go to the bathroom and look in the mirror. A different face stares back at you. Begin your story here.
"What...The...Fuck?"
I'm staring at what is supposed to be my reflection in the bathroom mirror, but is not. A series of things seem to happen simultaneously. My adrenaline shoots off the charts, my heart is beating out of my damn chest, I immediately shut the door, lock it, and look again.
"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god."
It takes me a minutes to realize that I am fucking chanting in here and on my way to hyperventilating. I sit down on the toilet and force myself to take deep breaths. I am desperately trying to remember all of those tips and tricks to calm someone down that have been drilled into my head for years. After a few minutes of supreme focus on this task it is working. I have calmed down a fraction.
My cognitive "flow" slows down considerably. I stand up again and walk over to face the mirror hoping that I was having some kind of psychotic episode and it wasn't real. Nope. Still not me.
Fuck!
Clearly I lost my fucking mind sometime between going to bed last night and coming in here this morning. . I mentally jog through a few questions.
Whose face is this? Do I still have my body or has it changed also? I quickly pull myself from my reflection and look down at myself.
Okay...still my body. Has anyone else noticed? I thank my lucky stars that my family is still sleeping.
Okay...think, think, think! I am hitting myself in the forehead with the palm of my hand pretty damn hard as if I might jar the answer loose.
Oh! Maybe I accidentally ingested some sort of drug and I am hallucinating! Maybe it was in something I ate. Okay, okay I can see how that could happen. Shit is in the food we eat all the time. Ya...I must have gotten something from the produce section that had some weird fucking hallucinogen on it.
I actually start to feel a little better about the situation as I reach this conclusion. I realize that if I just wait this out then the effects will wear off and my fucking face will be mine again. I would have never believed that a thought like that would ever be crossing my mind. If I am, in fact, on some type of drug then I need to go to the ER which means that I am going to have to go in the bedroom and wake up my husband.
I face the door and look at the knob. I stand this way for a long time while I try to work up the courage to unlock that mother fucker. I am about to have that moment. You know the one. The one that determines whether I have lost my fucking mind or I am just trippin' on some really crazy shit. One look from my husband is going to fucking define me. I take a deep breath and in one fluid and swift movement I open the door and walk into the bedroom. I kneel down next to my husband at the head of the bed and gently shake him. He groans and shuts his eyes tighter while trying to shoo me away. I am so scared by this point that I am close to tears. I take another deep breath and shake him again. That one does it.
"What?" he groans, clearly annoyed. His eyes flutter open a little and he rubs them for a second before really looking at me. I just stare at him, not breathing, waiting for his reaction.
"What the hell Abby?" I squeeze my eyes shut. I can't see this.
"Go back to bed." He pulls the covers over his head effectively shutting me out.
Wait...What? I rip the covers back off of his head.
"Does my face look funny?"
That little glimmer of hope is starting to come up in my belly.
"No, leave me alone. Go back to bed"
He pulls the covers back over his head. I stand up and for a few seconds the elation that I am not a psycho nut-job builds to a boiling point. Then, I burst into a silent, happy, jumping, spinning, dance, alternately pumping my fists in the air and swinging my head around. Once I finish, I kneel down on the floor in front of my husband again. I know he is going to be pissed that I am bothering him again but I am too happy to care.
"Honey?"
"What...Abby" Yep, he's pissed.
"You have to take me to the ER. I know this is going to sound crazy, but I think I may have accidentally ingested some drug on something I ate last night because I am apparently hallucinating."
*****************
Turns out I was right. There was a massive recall on lettuce in our area and there had already been about a hundred cases like mine reported within Northeast Florida. I will never forget that day for as long as I live. I also will never, and I mean never, forget to wash my fresh produce again. :)
Monday, August 30, 2010
previous journal entry gone awry
This started out as a journal post one day but I was feeling creative so while the main story is true I added/changed/omitted things here and there just for shits and giggles. It was fun and I still got my point across from my original journal entry.
I am driving home from watching my son play basketball a.k.a. have an all sports free-for-all for toddlers for 45 minutes at the YMCA when I realize that I am getting kind of hungry. I decide to splurge and go for McDonalds. As I’m driving over to said establishment I pray to some/any God/s that may or may not exist to let it not be crowded because my truck has no air conditioning and it could easily be 110 degrees inside my vehicle at that moment. When I think about having to sit in a long-ass, lunch-rush, drive-thru line I have flashes of horror movie scenes where my skin actually starts to melt from my body. Wouldn’t want that now would we, God? As I am pulling in I let out a small sigh of relief. I arrived before the lunch rush. “YES!” I say to no one in particular. I must zone out because all of the sudden it is my turn and I am pulling up to the computer screen that may or may not show me what I am actually going to order depending on the competence of the “Drive-Thru Specialist” taking my order. I panic a little because I have no idea what I want but I try to work it all out in my mind quickly. I think about a happy meal because the portion sizes are appropriate for an adult and it will be more of a normal calorie count for my splurge but I quickly reject that idea because I remember that they don’t put any veggies on the happy meal burgers. I scan the menu for a grilled chicken sandwich but it looks like that is unavailable as well. Could this shit be any unhealthier? I finally just decide to go with a #2 which is the Quarter Pounder Combo. I’m asked if I want this medium or large to which I respond medium while marveling at the enormity of what Americans deem perfectly acceptable portion sizes. I order bottled water for my drink as well as kids chocolate milk because I am kind of in love with chocolate milk. I pay for my artery clogging, sodium enhanced bag of food and think of nothing more while I drive the rest of the way home. I pull everything out of the bag and get everything set up. I sit down in front of it all and actually have the nerve to feel excitement about digging into my splurge meal and then I open the box that contains my sandwich. --the box that is supposed to contain my bun sporting a thin beef patty piled high with veggies and condiments galore. What I encounter instead is a giant version of a happy meal cheeseburger. What the fuck?! Since when did they stop putting everything on burgers by default? I didn’t know I had to specifically ask for things to be put ON the sandwich. I though that people only had to ask for specific things to be taken OFF the sandwich. So, all hope crushed, I sit staring at what I can now essentially call my “Super Huge Happy Meal”. The irony is not lost on me that I had clearly decided in that line not to get a Happy Meal, let alone a ginormous one, with no toy to boot! Well, what the hell? I start eating the shit anyway. While I am chowing down I notice that McDonalds has started putting their nutrition labels on all of their packaging. I clearly love torturing myself so I start tallying up what the damage will be once I am done. This disappointing experience of a meal has added up to more than 1100 calories. This is almost half of my daily allowance of calories. I am lucky I am currently nursing a baby and can eat massive amounts calories or I would be up caloric creek without a paddle. Once I finish eating, I stare blankly at the table and ponder all of this for a few moments. I mentally shrug, get up, throw away my trash and head into the bedroom to hang out with my boys. Fast food sucks!
I am driving home from watching my son play basketball a.k.a. have an all sports free-for-all for toddlers for 45 minutes at the YMCA when I realize that I am getting kind of hungry. I decide to splurge and go for McDonalds. As I’m driving over to said establishment I pray to some/any God/s that may or may not exist to let it not be crowded because my truck has no air conditioning and it could easily be 110 degrees inside my vehicle at that moment. When I think about having to sit in a long-ass, lunch-rush, drive-thru line I have flashes of horror movie scenes where my skin actually starts to melt from my body. Wouldn’t want that now would we, God? As I am pulling in I let out a small sigh of relief. I arrived before the lunch rush. “YES!” I say to no one in particular. I must zone out because all of the sudden it is my turn and I am pulling up to the computer screen that may or may not show me what I am actually going to order depending on the competence of the “Drive-Thru Specialist” taking my order. I panic a little because I have no idea what I want but I try to work it all out in my mind quickly. I think about a happy meal because the portion sizes are appropriate for an adult and it will be more of a normal calorie count for my splurge but I quickly reject that idea because I remember that they don’t put any veggies on the happy meal burgers. I scan the menu for a grilled chicken sandwich but it looks like that is unavailable as well. Could this shit be any unhealthier? I finally just decide to go with a #2 which is the Quarter Pounder Combo. I’m asked if I want this medium or large to which I respond medium while marveling at the enormity of what Americans deem perfectly acceptable portion sizes. I order bottled water for my drink as well as kids chocolate milk because I am kind of in love with chocolate milk. I pay for my artery clogging, sodium enhanced bag of food and think of nothing more while I drive the rest of the way home. I pull everything out of the bag and get everything set up. I sit down in front of it all and actually have the nerve to feel excitement about digging into my splurge meal and then I open the box that contains my sandwich. --the box that is supposed to contain my bun sporting a thin beef patty piled high with veggies and condiments galore. What I encounter instead is a giant version of a happy meal cheeseburger. What the fuck?! Since when did they stop putting everything on burgers by default? I didn’t know I had to specifically ask for things to be put ON the sandwich. I though that people only had to ask for specific things to be taken OFF the sandwich. So, all hope crushed, I sit staring at what I can now essentially call my “Super Huge Happy Meal”. The irony is not lost on me that I had clearly decided in that line not to get a Happy Meal, let alone a ginormous one, with no toy to boot! Well, what the hell? I start eating the shit anyway. While I am chowing down I notice that McDonalds has started putting their nutrition labels on all of their packaging. I clearly love torturing myself so I start tallying up what the damage will be once I am done. This disappointing experience of a meal has added up to more than 1100 calories. This is almost half of my daily allowance of calories. I am lucky I am currently nursing a baby and can eat massive amounts calories or I would be up caloric creek without a paddle. Once I finish eating, I stare blankly at the table and ponder all of this for a few moments. I mentally shrug, get up, throw away my trash and head into the bedroom to hang out with my boys. Fast food sucks!
http://www.creativewritingprompts.com/#
Prompt #2
A picture is worth more than a blank page. Take out those dusty photo albums. Pick out photo #14. Count however way you like, but make sure you stop at photo #14. Look at the photo for 2-3 minutes. Then for 10 minutes, write all the feelings that photograph made you feel. Don't censor yourself. Just write.
This picture looks happy right? Well, that is how most of my pictures appear. But what you see is most definitely not what I am seeing when I look at them. I remember the shit that was going on below the surface in those wonderful Kodak moments. Take this photo. I was about 17 at the time and at a family Easter dinner with my boyfriend. All was going well until I got into some altercation with said boyfriend. I don't remember what it was even about but I remember it was bad. I'm thinking he had cheated on me...again Well, I had to wear my happy face for the family dinner (and this picture I remember) but we ended up sneaking out early to go back to his house and "talk" and boy did we have it out! I ended up having some kind of psychotic breakdown in which I ended up on the floor in their guest room crying and near hyperventilation. Just like most things it wasn't the actual thing at hand that threw me over the edge. It was just the last thing that tipped the pile causing another "episode". Luckily, so I have learned, my boyfriend did not want to talk about why exactly I was crazy. Once I was through I became numb again and then I could continue on with my day. I remember having so many volatile fights with my high school boyfriend. Crazy stuff. Once when we were play fighting it somehow became serious and it escalated to the point where I was chasing him through the house. I had "kill" on my brain. I was hitting at him for all I was worth but as we had ended up on his bed with me on top of him and his legs covering his chest and face all I was hitting was knees. After a few seconds I remember just bursting into tears because I couldn't hurt him like I wanted to. He told me later that it had actually really scared him. I wanted to physically cause him harm on so many occasions. Our relationship was so bipolar...when we were happy (which was a lot), we were really happy but when we were fighting it was a recipe for disaster on both our parts. I'm not writing these things to brag but now that I am older and can look back I realize that while this relationship was certainly never boring it was extremely unhealthy.
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