Writer’s Inventory Redux

19 11 2009

Finish this sentence: Creative writing is…
words flowing from my imagination.
Briefly describe your history or background in reading and writing creative texts.
I have a very long history of reading what I consider creative texts because I’ve been a reader since I learned how. This semester is the first time I’ve really allowed myself to become a writer.
Are writers born, made, or both? Explain your answer.
Some people simply have a talent for writing, but that talent must be studied and practiced to become truly great. I believe that great writers really are made through hard work, passion, and strength.
Explain how writing affects your daily life.
I write everyday. And throughout the day, I get ideas for stories and write them down. Writing has become a necessary relaxer for me–its very freeing.
What is the purpose of the creative writer in contemporary society?
To stir people’s imaginations and make them think.
Will you continue to write creatively when this course ends? What are your plans?
Yes, defiantly. I imagine I will write for the rest of my life. I plan to be an English teacher, but also to write; I want to share what I’ve done with other people.


NaNoWriMo and life

9 11 2009

So Nano is going better than I could have expected, but its too much to put on this blog. I am very close to 25,000 word s now and the story is getting very interesting and amazing. I’m surprizing myself with the things I am able to come up with on the spur of the moment. I love my main character, Penny, shes pretty awesome, and seems like such a real person, I love it.

On the other hand, I am juggling everything else I’ve gotta do with the wrapping up of the semester between all of my classes between compiling my final creative writing (for this class) portfolio, senior seminars incredible demand, my adolescent paper which is nearly done but needs to be kicked around a little more, and my Teaching of Writing class with the incredibly awesome final unit I am working on. I love it all, and I love that I’m getting through it, ahead, and still doing Nano. Its an incredible feeling when you realize how much you’re actually capable of.

P.S. Go check out the book and journal review section of this blog. I made that report on the book last night and I love that its researched–Sir Doyle is kinda crazy!

5th NaNoWriMo post

6 11 2009

Still going strong!
Shadow curls up on my feet under the table, keeping them warm since I changed back into the gold flats before we left the Goodwill. She seems comfortable as long as she’s with me, like there is an unspoken, unbeleiveable bond between us. Can people and animals have soul mates? I am so temped to take a picture of her, but we’d probably get kicked out if I did that people. People generally believe that blind people do not take pictures. I’m not sure why.

Just a little bit later, Lucas brings over our food, two sandwiches and two cherry sodas. I remind him that Shadow needs her water so he takes the water bottle and feeder from where he hid it in his jacket, put the bowl on thefloor, and connected the water bottle which Shadow eagerly began devowering.

“So, how are you feeling about Comfort Woman?” Lucas asks me.
“Really? what wonderful dining language Lucas.”
“well I was just wondering.”
“I think its an interesting novel that describes a horribly tramatic event and chain of events in a women’s life that go mostly unknown to the people that need to understand her the best.”
“Good description”
“thank you”
We munch in silence for several moments then begin discussing the rest of our day. “What else do you have planned today pen?”
“I think I’m going to go on a hike and take some pictures?”
“Because I want to show off the beuty that is around here.”
“whatever Pen, if it makes you happy.”
“But tomorrow, we’re on for reading to each other.” I remind him, he would forget otherwise.
“love it, its nice not to have to read it all.” he explains as people start looking at us, wondering how a blind girl can read. I can practically hear their wonders: does she read braille? Aww, hes reading to her. Thats nice, it must be community severe for him.
People are so noisey. Thats why reality television is so peopular, people want to know what is going on in other peoples’ lives and reality tv opens up that gate and makes it actually possible.

Once I drop Lucas back off at his house, I head to Firn park, ready to explore and take some pictures. While driving, Shadow happily seats herself in Lucas’ fron spot, probably still warm so Shadow reveals in the comfort. Sometimes, when its just us, I like to talk to her, she actually seems to understand. Is that crazy?
“Lucas is sweet, isn’t he.” She looks up at me, looking anxious to be able to speak. Her eyes sort of say it all, she seems to agree with me, even requesting what so many people seem to already think at school.
“No, definatly not. He’s gay Shadow, how would that work” She looks at me, puzzled, seeming to wonder why a gay man would want to spend so much time with a staright girl.
“No, he likes being with me because we have simialr interests and we like to talk. Besides, gay men make some of the best girlfriends.” Its tru though, as so many wome actually know, and Lucas is no different. Shadow sits her head back down and shuts her eyes, I hope I’m not irritating her. We drive in silence for a little while then I resolve to turn on the radio. I flip it to my favorite station that is always playing the newest music. The djs are very discerning and seem to know what to look for in the new, good stuff, I usually like whats playing, except for now. Its some mixture between rap and screaming, gothic, scary music. How can people even understand what is being said, let alone what is meant. I don’t get it, but I listen to it anyway since we’re almost to firn park. As I’m listening, it steeps into a sudden calming tone, very melodic, out of no where and I wonder who made that decision.

Attempting to consider the fan ramifications for “Junior’s Senior”‘s musical decision, I miss my turn to Fern Park, Shadow is the first to notice, lifts he head and nudges my arm, looking around, I see my mistake and make a very Illegal U turn at the next intersection. Headed in the correct way again, Shadow resolves to sit up as though she can guide me in the right direction. How is she so smart?

I don’t miss the turn this time and pull in, driving along the snow packed, small back road leading to the sticker check station. I pull cool side skidding in my busted down old car until I get to the chack point and I roll down the window. The guy inside looks bitter and that cols. He asks the normal questions: what I intend to do and request that I attach Shadow back onto her leash while he is watching–I removed it once we were back in the car from Fazolis. I obide by his request, knowing full well that she won’t be on the leash at all while we’re here. She just stays with me, she doesn’t need a leash. Comfortable that I wont let my dog destroy the park, smoke any weed, or start any fires, he lets me pass though looking closely as the sticker Lucas made that is identical to the Colorado state park sticker. I know that he did a good job because I’ve never been questioned or got caught–having an artist as a best friend is a beautiful thing.

I found a parking spot and pulled in, turning off the car. Shadow hoped onto my lap, eager to get out and explore. She must be getting hungry, I probably shouldn’t stay too long I remind myself. For apperance’s sake, we begin heading out on the trail and I hold onto her leash. We head down the pathe we always take, but it looks so much different in the snow. Many people have been here today, I can tell because the snow is patted down as though someone did a shotty snow shoveling job, but its only packed that way because of footprints. We continue, going past many snow covered trees until we reach our favorite clearing, deep down the path that opens to the masive lake in the middle of the park. its very cold, so parts of the lake are frozen, but not all of it. The frozen pieces float over the surafe of the lake like icecubes, unconneted to one another, drifting. Show hops up into a level bolder and I let go of her leash so that she can explore. “Now stay close” I reminder her, she looks up at me as though a teenager girl would look up at her mother as though to say, “no kidding Sherlock.”

As I line up my shot to take a really great picture of one of the ice cubes, Shadow lets out a little bark and I look over to be Tulip, a girl I know from school.
“Oh, hey pen” she says, “is this your, um, mutt?”
“Yes, that is my black lab, come, Shadow” I reply, being sure there is an edge to my voice as I call Shadow who very quickly comes to my side, eager to be rid of the flower girl. Heading closer to me, she begins humming a disney song, destoying it forever for me. “What are you doing here”
“Taking some pictures.” I reply, wondering what she thinks i would be doing with a camera in my hand.
“Oh, well that makes sense,” she adds making her odd, spastic finger movements and brushing back her ugly brown hair thats trying to be curly but failing misserably.
“I thought you would be reading or soemthing, we’re always working on something.”
“I do more than school wor” I explain, trying to hide my ammusement in her disgusting life. I treuly have no reason to not like this girl, she is just incredibly irritating, self centered and very jelous of everyone around her. I love scents and use a lot of different perfumes, but one day, I was called into the office and asked how I made tulip sick. Confused, I found out later that she had told a teacher that I had made her sick. Even later I found out that she is apparently allergic to smells, so my soap smell had made her sick. The principal knows me pretty well since I work for the school, so she was as confused as I was and just let me go, telling me to be sure I wasn’t making people sick. I promised not to.
“Well, how far are you in Comfort Women then?” She wondered, no doubt so that she could try to out do whatever I tell her.
“I’m nearly done” I lie, seeing how she’ll respond.
“Yeah, I finished last night” she one ups me, trying to show how much better she is than me.
“Good, well have fun then” I reply, walking away, happy that Shadow takes the hint and follows me away. I keep walking as she trys to say something and don’t reply to whatever pointless conversation thing she wished to tell me.
I relazie that I was rude to her, but this girl and I used to be friends, I’m not sure how I never saw the writing on the wall. She really does not care about what people feel and honestly insists that everything she has and does is thousadnds of times better than whatever you’ve done. And you wanna hear an annoying voice? You should listen to her bitterly sweet voice transition to something serious. Its like a devil speaking through a cupcake, too sweet yet poisenous at the same time.

Suddenly, Shadow stops moving, freezing in place. I look back at her, “what?”
She can sense moods and seems to be saying that we’re not moving untill I stop being so nasty. I take a few deep breaths, and she walks to my side again, pleased at my calmness. We hike to the next clearing and I take pictures as we go. The sun is starting to se by the time that we get to the next clearing, and I am happy for the change in light. I ask Shadow to hop up on another flattened boulder so that I can take a few pictures of her in the sunset. The sun across the lake, falling beneath the treeline, disappearing for another day, promising to return in the morning as she does everyday.

Realizing we should probably get back to the car, I give Shadow a kiss on her head and she begins walking to the car almost reading my mind. I follow her, being sure to grab her leash once we get closer to the parking lot. It begins to snow again, an the parking lot lights catch the snow in the rays from the post, illuminating each crystall as though they each get their chance in the spotlight untill eventually, they fall. A snowflake’s life is sad really, they fall from the sky, closer and closer to the ground, however long it takes to actually get there, then once they land, thats it, thats the end, thats all she wrote. That is until they melt into the earth or the sun evaporates them–I’m not exactly sure how that works, but I’ve always wondered how long it takes a snowfake to reach the ground.

Once we’re in the car, I’m stratled by how cold it is, I don’t rememeber it being even close to this cold in the afternoon after we came back from Starbucks, Fazolis, and the Goodwill. oh well, I suppose the evening chill has something to do with that. I start the car, or at least try to, but it wont go, I try again, nothing. Then I take a break, look over at Shadow who seems to be willing the car to start and try again, and the engine begins, “odd.” I say aloud, I guess it is an old car and very cold. Then I hear the gas light ding on, “no wonder.” Hopefully, we have enough to get home. Not wanting to waste more gas, I putt out of the spot and begin heading for home, giving the guy at the booth a wave on my way out.

The drive home is peaceful and comfortable after the heat fully kicks in. Shadow is again rolled up into a ball, probably already napping, and I’m enjoying the evening surroundings. Night is si tight. Its like being a baby and wrapped tightly in a blanket, being comforted and portecting. its dark, nothing can see you, nothing can take you. So why do all the bad things happen at night? I supposse where there is darkness and comfort, there has to be the people who cant help but take advantage of that comfort. It is, afterall, a construction we create.

Pulling up to the house, I park my car in the garage in my permanent spot inside where my parents require that I park because my car is a “disgrace” compared to everything else we own. I bought it with my own money, saved up from all of the photography sessions I did throughout junior high and my freshmen year. That’s right, I’ve been taking for pictures for that long–its been a long runnin ghabit, passion, and escape. I really have had a camera attached at my side for as long as I could take a picture. I remember that my first camera came from my grandma who lives back in Illinois. She told me to take pictures of everything I saw so that she would still feel close to me. So I did, I took the 35 millimenter camera and ten rolls of film she gave me and took pictures of everything, I took her to her word. my parents were astounded by the number of pictures I was having developed and finally got interested in my hoddy when I reached middle school. They were so impressed, that they bought me my first single lense reflex camera. I feel in love with the new abilities the camera brought with it. Now, I could really create art rather than simply capturing moments. I could evoke images of happyness and sorrow through my reader, actually make them feel something when they saw my pictures.

Walking out of the car, Shadow follows me, jumps from the passenger side, to my seat, then out the car, with her leash in tow. We walk into the house to an odd smell–mom’s been trying to cook. Lisa must have the evening off. We walk straight back to the car and head out for Chinese–I’ve been craving it anyway. Starting the car again, I notice my gas level, making a plan to visit a gas station before the Chinese restaurant. We head out, Shadow deciding to sit on my lap this time, she looks up at me, kissing my cheek as we roll out of the driveway. backing up, I nearly run over dad who is pulling in at the same time. Oh that poor soul, I hope hes bringing home takeout. I wave, knowing about the culinary catastrophe he is about to walk into. He waves back, so unknowing.

We head to the gas station, all the while again enjoying the darkness. Shadow loves the darkness, I imagine its because shes virtually a ghost. Its ironic, Shadows aren’t visible in the darkness. Its still snowing, evening snows are the most beautiful–painfully cold, but beautiful. Heading to the main road, I again notice the snowflakes’ spotlights.

Pulling into the gas station, I find an open pump and pull up the old car, thinking we really only could have made it like another minute or two. I open the flap gas thing and prepay twenty dollars then pump the gas. I made funny faces at shadow from the outside of the car while I pump, almost certain she smiles back at me. I remember the first time I pumped gas, I couldn’t figure out how to do it and had to have someone help me. Luckly there was a guy on the football team on the next pump over and offered to help me. The star, he was probably only sucking up so I would take his picture more. people have a funny way of turning into real angels around a camera, reguardless of who is behind it–you never want someone to catch the bad side of you on film. I love taking pictures of the band, they’re the best because they really dont change too much when I go over to photograph them. How create can you become playing the saxaphone. Flute players though, they close their eyes to look their their playing and thinking about something thats real deep. Its all about perception, if the person on the other end of the photo thinks that you’re doing something amazing, you are, reguardless of what is actually going on because all the viewer has is that one pictures. Thats all they can gather. Thats why I try to take pictures in the most honest way possible, tweaking everything in my ability to really show what is going on, even what the observer should be feeling.

Looking at photographs that aren’t honest is like looking into a mirror that is tweeked so that it shows the admirer something that they want to see rather than what is actually there. Clothing stores love to do this for the girls who do not understand their body weight and appearance. They pray on girls who wish they were skinner, taller, less fat, cuter, whatever the feeling may be. Make up too. That stuff only exisits to change apperences, its just not honest. And now, they’re even trying to sell the stuff saying that it can turn back the hands of time and actually reverse the aging process.

Any matter, I finish pumping the gas and get back into the car, at which time Shadow hops to the passigner side seemingly pleased that I am safe and back in the vehicle. The dog is like a protector and she doesn’t stop. Its a life long obligation that I am happy to be at the center of. Dogs are so forgiving, that cliche, happy, smiling, jumping face is so nice to see after a day of school and long shoots of photography, I want to remember it forever. Last year, I used to take a shot of her jumping up and down every day when I got home. Then, she was much smaller than she is now, but it was fun to see her grow from a verty, very young puppy to a similar size that she is now. but I’ve always been able to lift and hug her, no matter the size. Now, I have those puppy photos to show her growth. Its funny that in each photo, she truly has a different expression on her face, as though to show me what kind of a dauy she has had so far and wondering, hoping, that I had a good day as well. After I’d come home, we plop down on the couch and watch Oprah together. I enjoy the little bits of wisdom she gives, and its an easy way to wind down after school, petting my dog, before I begin the dregs of homework.

Mind you, I really do not mind homework–especially projects, papers, and photography assignments. Its the mindless, busy work that I hate. When teachers believe it is their right to waste student’s time, that makes me so angry–I’m glad more of the high school teachers don’t pass out as many workshgeets, I hated that in middle and elementry school. It was likt they had no other way of teaching us, I mean, come on–the material was not that hard–I’m sure you could have thought of something better.

We continue on to the Chinese restaurant where they welcome Shadow with open arms. I dont really know why all of the restaurants in town allow her in, they just do. Quite frankly, I’m fine with it and I think she is too. She never makes any commotion, poops or pees on their floor, and almost always eats something. plus, I don’t let her up on the seat which I’m sure they appreciate as well. We pull up, Shadow sniffing the air, ready for her embassy beef–oddly, both of our favoirtes. I’ve tried almost everything on the menu and this one is definatly the best. I find a parking spot, pleased to see that China Town has taken care of their parking lot, its thankfully not covered in snow so drivers can easily see the lines. I turn off the car, open my door, and hop out, Shadow right on my tail, off of her leash. Unlike the state park people, they don’t mind if she doesn’t wear it, they know she’s well behaved.

We walk into the restaurant, greeted by the warm smell of oriental spices and sauses, with fox news playing in the background. Oh nuts, it must be Wei Chen working tonight, hes a hardcore republican and wants everyone to know it. His wife smiles at us and mutes the television, she gets me.
“Hello Ms. Worth, how are you today?”
“I’m doing great, Shadow and I are starving. Mom’s cooking againg.”
“very good, we are happy to have you, I’ll get Mr. Chen to start on your order straight away.”
“Thank you” I reply, looking for a place to settle down before our food arrives.
I choose a booth that is comfotably tucked in the corner, as private as a quare restaurant can possibly get. Removing my sholder, I take a few pictures of the restaurant. There is a really ornate, beautiful dragon sculpture hanging on the wall, probably worth more than anything else in the building. its lit from individual lights above and below it to to gave a stage and museum feel to its look. I take a closeup of the head, then zoom to to be sure I get the whole body, careful to focus the dragon and blur the area around him.

It doesn’t take long for our food to be ready, mr. Chen and his wife must be the only two working because he brings out our food, making a snide comment about the newest Democratic president. “He’s going tto take your money!” He warns me, “and mine to! my family came to america, not have it taken away by people who do no work.”
“Thank you Mr. Chen.” I reply, picking up my camera and taking a shot of the food, a habit i’ve gotten into even rince grandma wanted pictures of everything, she especially wanted to be sure Colorado was feeding us well, so I made sure to document almost every meal. its also a great way to be sure what you’re actually eating is healthy because the more colorful a meal, the more healthy it usually is, and colorful meals make better pictures.

Chen was nice enough to bring a smaller plate for Shadow which i gratefully thanked him for as he walked away mumbling, “Idiot demoncrat…” I grinned at his ignorance and dished out a good portion of the beef for Shadow then put in on the ground which she happily began eating. Feeling he would creat some good dinner conversation, Chen began explaining some of the latest politics from the republicans, especially the latest gossip about the Fox news caster found at an anti homosexual rally the past weekend. he was holding a sign that read “god hates gays,” its started a firestorm for the news company, who is trying to back him up, and republicans accross the country. Lucas found out about it and couldn’t stop laughing saying, “if there is a God, hes got to love people hating others because they’re being themselves rather than falling into hate life that douchebag.” It was one of the few times I’ve actually heard him swear, and he used it powerfully.

Even looking at the television screen now, is a female news caster defending her coanchor, spouting off that it is illegal for people to prosecute him for his beliefs and I wonder what he could possible believe he was doing over the weekend. Some people just do not understand how their lives harm and create problems for other people, as though their own actions have no faults while everyone else does everything wrong. We are all human, I wish more people would realize that.

I continue eating my embassing beef as Chen continues talking and ranking about the lost election and how America is full of liberals that will destroy the world. i can block out his annoying banter just fine, aknowledging his pinions ocassionally with a “really?” and “ok.” when he seems to need the aknoledgement. Glancing down at Shadow, her plate is void of food and is presently being licked clean creating a cute clatter on the foor with each lap of her tongue. She seems more irriated with Chen than I do and looks happy to be underneither the table so that his voice is slightly more muffled than it is for me. As a good restaurant owner, he asks about our food, and I give him the same request I always do, “its great, thank you” and contie eating, nearing the end of my meal. I hear Shadow push her plate away and lay down on the cool tile, taking a small nap before I decide its time to go. Noticing that I’m finished, Chen brings over the check and a fortune cookie as well as a doggie bone. I hand Shadow the bone and she happily takes it, the girl loves food. I open my fortune cookie, “Open your eyes” it says as I read. I pull out my money and leave the check and cash at the table as Shadow and I leave. Mrs. Chen bids us goodbye as she leaves and Mr. Chen only says good bye when he hears the door jingle, eyes strainign to read the television’s closed caption. his speaking English may be good, but hes still learning to read–I know because he’s given me flyers discussing politics before, authored by himself and written poorly. I say good bye and continue to the car.

The pavement has become very slick–the snow seems to be freezing to the road, so I tell Shadow to quickly get in so that we can get home before it gets any worse. She hops in the drivers side then over to her seat once I open the door and I get in, preparing myself for the drive. This car has never been that great in the ice, but I figure that if I go slow enough, I can make it work. Carefully backing out, I begin plotting my route, taking out the steep hill that I went over to get here, realizing that it must be covered with ice now. I resolve to taking the long way around to avoid the icy hill–it gets really brutal at this time of the year. The long way around isn’t so bad, its a small town so even the long way around only adds five minutes to the trip. Five minutes I do not mind giving up if it means that we return home safely.

Traveling down the road, Shadow resolves to stay sitting rather than laying, perhaps willing me to continue going along safely. After awhile, longer than I had thought because of the ice, we make it home. I remind Shadow to be careful on the driveways because its icy, and step out onto the pavement. Then, I slip. Obviously, being careful isn’t enough, sometimes you just fall. I hit both of my elbows pretty hard on the driveway which saves my head from hitting the pavement, thank goodness. Getting up, I walk slower into the house, Shadow walking behind me, hoping to catch me if I fall? We walk in to a silent, pinesol smelling house. Lisa was here today, so how did mom cook? Oh well, they’re probably at one of his firm parties I explain as Shadow and I head to my room.

It still has a huge pile of cloths off to the side and I realize that I left my clothes in the car, I’ll have to get them tomorrow, I’m too tired right now. Shadow goes to the kitchen, likely to get a drink because thats where her bowl is, and I begin changing for bed. I take off my clothes and pul on my robe, and head to the bathroom where I was my face and pull my hair into a high bun which ends up only being a poof ontop of my head because my hair is sho short now; I miss my long locks I think, heading back to my room. Shadow isn’t up yet, so I’m quick to get under the covers and stake out my part of the bed, she sometimes likes to hog a lot of the room.

The sheets are cool next to my warm body, very sensual. Shadow comes in only a few minutes later, hops up on the bed and lays at the foot of it, protecting me from monsters and other scary things. We both fall sleep very quickly.

I am woken by a sudden commotion in the kichen, as though someone came in through the window, Shadow wakes with a start too and we both rush to the window, looking down to the first floor. Seeing several men outside, I rush to my door and shut it, thanking the builder for including a lock on the door. Looking around for my phone to call 911, I can’t find it, and since we got rid of our house line, there is no land line I can use. Then I remember that old phones allow you to call 911 in emergencies. I scramble to the other side of the room, looking for my old phone, while looking, I can hear loud, muffled voices on the first level and other loud noices. I will my parents to come home, assuming they must not be back from the party yet. I relaize, after several minutes of looking, that mom gave my old phone to one of the ladies’ ldaughters she has luch with during the week and curse her for it.

Suddenly, I deepest dread begin to come true as I hear the stairs being walked on. Luckily, my room is at the end of the hall, so its the last place they’ll try to go. Shadow comes near me and I grab her tightly, feeling so afraid. I can feel their anxiety and cannot help but wonder what kind of people they are: racists, murderers, run of the mill home burgalers. There is simply no way of knowing from a distance and I am not about to get close. Then, they begin jiggling the door handle and I realize that they must not be smart burglers because they’re not trying to pick to lock. Shadow suddenly heads toward the closet, seemingly even more scared than I am, I follow her. Just as we get in the closet, they break the door and I can feel that Chinese food ready to come back up.

They begin rampaging my room, tearing everything apart, but they seem to know that theres someone here–how else would the door be locked? I’ve been trying so hard not to look through the split in the door, but I can’t help it, curiosity gets the best of me, and I take a peak. Suddenly, the man’s head snaps sharply to the side and he wispers something to one of the other men who frantically scrambles from my room. I hear them on the stairs, running, and then thuds on the back lawn as they jump back though the window. Where did they go? Why did they leave. I was almost in so much trouble, I can’t even wrap my mind around it.

Then I understand, my parents walk into the house and I hear my mother scream in a way you only hear in the movies. Relieved at what didn’t happen, I run down the stairs and hug my parents who I’ve never been happier to see.
“you were here vanilla bean” he asks me, and I just look at him. “we have to call the police” he decides.
My mother is speachless, looking around the living room and I realize I haven’t seen it yet. Turning around, I go grab my camera, anxious to document what they did to our house. “I’m going to go get my camera. for insurance documentation”
“good idea vanilla bean” dad says over the phone.
Once I get back down, Shadow is by mom, following her around and providing support in a way I’ve only seen her give it to me before. That dog is truly unbelievable and so much of a human, its unbelievable.
Walking about the house, I begin taking pictures of everything. At first, on automatic, making sure to document everything. Then, I go back and take pictures to evolke meaning–maybe the newspaper will do a story and use my pictures. Is that wrong for me to sell them? I just want to express what I’m feeling at this moment. there is so much range and anger and misunderstanding. How was I not killed or raped or kidnapped. My nightmare dod not come true and I still cannot believe it. Then, as I’m shooting another picture, I realize I’ve been crying, a lot. My face hurts and is very wet, my rope stained in tears.

Why not: more nanowrimo

3 11 2009

Again, this is my work, please create your own!
Looking again round me at the majesty of the winter, I wish I fit into the belief that there is a big man in the sky who can help me through life and actually creates whats around me. I feel so left out sometimes when people bow their heads before they eat, making it known to all that they are asking for a special man to bless their food. I can’t bring myself to do it and whats even worse, I look at people who bow their heads in publis as showing off their beliefs and only doing it to make those of us who don’t feel bad. How aweful is that? Is it? are they? I am a good person because I want to be good to people, not because I’m trying to get into a secreative club. I imagine that if there is a god, when we meet, we’ll have a nice long chat. Unitl that time, I will go on being a good person, as far as I can be that good person because thats who I want to be.

Lucas looks at me, realizing that I’ve found myself caught in a dream and kisses my forehead before I even realize he’s there. “What’s wrong Pen?”
He has Shadow in his arms and she’s shivering, cold. “Can you wrap Shadow in your jacket? She’s shaking.”
“Sure thing, but I know shes not the reason you’re all dazy. Whats wrong?”
“I’m not sure–its just that everything is ending so fast.”
“what is?”
“we’re only juniors”
“I know, but the whole school choosing thing is going to happen soon, and I don’t want to go to school, I want to take pictures.”
“I know Pen, but no ones going to want to take you, even if you are a great photographer without more of education.”
“But, i’m pretty smart”
“yeah, you are, but you need more. besides, college is a great experiance from everything I hear.”
“oh well, i guess we’ll see what happens” i say, really not wanting to take the college route. Please dont misunderstand, its not that i am opposed to the work–I love reading and learning, but I love learning for myself, not completing tedious assignements that waste my time, that I am so not fond of. I have to figure out a way to get noticed and make this happen formyelf, without school.

I realize that we are still standing the parking lot and begin heading toward the trunk to get my cloths. Iopen it and Shadow hops in, eager to warm herself in the cloths. “No, I weed to get those.” But she doesnt move so I resolve to pick up the entire pile and carry it in to recycle. Once we get inside, we head to the donation counter and I put the entire pile down, out of which Shadow pops, obviosuly excited to be inside.

“Oh, well hello there.” says the donation clerk. “who might this be?”
“Oh thats Shadow and her people Penny and Lucas” says Jen, the kind woman who always saves the really great stuff for me in the back. “theres some truly awesome finds this time guys, come on back, I even have a doggie bed back here for Shadow, it was brought in last night and I washed it so that it would be free of other doggie’s smells for her.”
“You are so wonderful Jen, thank you” I tell her, eagerly going through the small, wooden, half door to the back room. Lucas lingers behind and tells me hes going to go look around to see whats new, promising to be back after his tour.

“Hes growing more handsome everyday” Jen comments, I roll my eyes at her.
“Oh not you too.”
“Oh, common, its not fair, hes perfect and always smells so fantastic.”
“You only want him because he wants nothing to do with you, I point out to her.” I remove my shoes because they’re so cold and full of slush, do you happen to have any socks and shoes back here?”
“In the new stuff, no, but I can pull some from the main room.”
“Can you, thank you so much, Shadow and I stepped into a drift and got a little frozen.”
“I’ll grab a blanket for Shadow while I’m out there too.”
“great, thanks Jen.” As she leaves, I pick up Shadow and help her into the doggie bed. jen was right, it is pretty fanatastic with a fauz lamb lining and just the right size for a puppy lab. Shadow happily scrambles into the bed and in only seconds falls asleep. unblieveable.

Not a minute later, Jen returns with socks, shoes, and a blanket. I pull on the tie dyed keds with glitter–obviously an art project–and white socks as Jen goes to Shadow and puts the blanket over her in the bed. Shadow only lifts her head for a moment, as a thankyou and lies down again, pleased for the warm bed.

I begin sorting through the clothes Jen has kept for me, thinking about the next few years. I’m not sure whats going to happen. Sure, I want to end up in New Yprk, but I’m not an idiot, I know its so hard to get ther, but people do, and why cant I. Its not like I want to be famous of anything, I just want to take pictures because I enjoy it more than anything else. But how, thats the big question. Sure, at school, I take pictures of all of the sporting events, well, most of them, and know pretty much everyone in the pictures. Its not that big of a school afterall. Thats who I am, the picture girl. And I like it that way, I like life behind the lense. Its silent, observing, and I make it nonjudgemental, only taking the pictures that the eye would see. I try to capture and hold life.

I continue thinking as I pull out of the huge pile a bright pink and sequensed dress. It looks really well made, and definatly worn before. I sometimes like to imagine the lives the clothes had before they end up at the goodwill. Was it volentarily given up, or did some platinum blonde high schooler have her favorite dress ripped from her dress as punishment. Either way, paired with a jean jacket and a white long sleave jacket, this dress could actually be worn during the day. It would probably only go down to my knees, so I’d need to wear some kind of tights, maybe those white lace ones I got about a month ago, those would be perfect.

It always throws me a little when I come accross something that was obviously made by someone else as a personalized gift to another person. The particular item I’m talking about is hoodie with an image of a family standing in front of Cinderella’s Castle at disney world. The image is of four smiling people and I wonder why anyone would want to give this up. There are just some things that are sacred and images of one’s family is one of them.

Jen walks in the room in time for me to ask, “why did you pull this for me?”
“because I know you like pictures, you’re always walking around with a camera.”
“oh” I say wondering how i could have expected with any different of an answer. she thinks I would want a sweatshirt because it has the image of a family on it? Not only that, but its a posed image, the happiness isnt real, and obviously not that real at all since its now in this pile. I wonder why they decided to give up this sweatshirt. maybe the family divided.

It reminds me of when I buy a frame with a picture already in it. Its like companys think that if I see a normal looking family in a frame, I will buy it thinking it good for my own purposes. But the people are only happy, no one wants a picture of someone whos sad. Why would we? we take pictures to rememeber moments in life, not capture the sad ones. I put the sweatshirt aside, there is no way I could wear a picture of a family I don’t know. Who could actually do that?

Next up is a really complicated looking Norweigen sweater, intricatly woven, probably be someones grandmother. Its made with love and I can almost feel it radiating from the fabric. This would look fantastic with leggings and some form of boot, perhaps some cowboy boots, oh and a button up white shirt undernieth it, perfect. I set it in my “for keeps” pile and continue ravenging the pile.

I love clothing because its not necessary, its a constantly changing field and people are always trying on the newest fad. i go with the things I love, without fads, although there have been some pretty neat ones–scarves for instance are a great idea and I love draping fabric, so why not add some simple fabric to what I wear, beautiful. I love watching what people choose to wear. People really are obnoxious, interesting creatures–some of them all look the same, some try painfully hard to be different, and some just are, themselves. Look at me, thinking as though I don’t even belong to my own race, please, of course I am a teenager, I’m all angsty, jumpy and harmony, but besides all of that, I am a thinker, contunously trying to make sense of what is around me. The world–and beyond the world–is too immense to try and make sense of it all, its a ling long journey and one that needs to be taken with a giggle or two, especially with clothing.

Lucas returned from his search with a pile of clothing, apparently, half of which is fr me, evena doggie sweater for Shaow. Holding it up, I give him a look that makes him quickly remove it, appoligizing. He continues holding up each find, several of which are are actually for me, much more than half like I had originally thought. He found me several seaters knowing that I thrive off of them in the winter. I am cold fairy often and my feet are always cold, no matter what. Its not like I’m real small with low blood presure, I just like being a little chilly. Its like when you get into bed real tired and its nice and cold under the covers, thats what I like to feel during the winter. Think of it, theres nothig better than waking up warm under the coers and feel the cold hair on your face. Of course, that first part, waking up is easy, but leaving the warmth, not so much.

Like me, a found a small dress what is really sparkly, it seems to be the sister to the one Jen pulled, I wonder why she didnt pull this one too–it probably came in a different day; I’ll bet she wasn’t working, it was probably that jerk Fred who works Sunday afternoons. He is so cruel to their customers, especially the ones that are really poor. I wonder what he could have against them, life is too short to be mad at people all of the time–I feel like the world would be a much better place if more people understood that. Then again, without conflict, we would never learn anything, never be able to change our ways and defend our beliefs. The world needs conflict so that we ramain thinking people; please understand that I truely believe that before you go coloring me a world peace crazy.

Lucas also found sveral items for himself, most of which are very feminine, we have a lot of similar cloths. Lucas is like me, he dresses how he sees fitting to himself, but hes always trying on new :celebrity” looks, trying the find the one that suits him the best. It all begins with him hair really, right now, hes trying on the buzz cut Brad Pitt old school look. On top of his very feminine interior, he is very masculine, except when it comes to his cloths. Its like an oreo cookie, the black cookie parts are his femininity, his soul and clothing while the cream filling is his masculinity, his body form. Now please don’t misunderstand, he does catch a lot of female eyes, but they are all devistatingly saddened when they realize he was only looking at them because of their clothing–the man loves shopping, hes a great buddy to take a long too.

The next piece he holds up is a really great bright red leather bomer jacket that looks like its hit the road off of a bike a few times. “I’d wear it” I say.
“Good, thats what I hoped for” he said as he threw it in his for keeps pile. Every now and then, he likes to have something that a female would like, he tries pretty hard for that.

Getting to the last item, he holds up an incredibly lacy pale yellow dress that is truly so beautiful. “I hope you pulled that for me.”
“Of course, I’m gay, not trans” he replies, throwing it at me. I hold it up and it looks even better than I could have hoped. The playe yellow looks like it at one time could have been as bright as the sun but quickly faded because it was washed oo many times, too loved I supposee. Again I wonder why someone got rid of such a beautiful dress.

I often worry how many of the clothing items I have I actually own because someone died and the family couldn’t bear to have the family member’s clothing around anymore. It pains me a little, but then I remember that I would want my clothing to live on. Inanimate objects have a funny way of being imortale. For example, a person can die and have all of their items given up and throuwn to hundreds of different people (depending on the number of items of course), and those items could be used for generation after they have died. Afterall, thats what family hairlombs are–pieces from our past that have stood te test of time and remain important, influential and significant in our lives and that of our family. I wonder what hairloms will come from my family.

Shadow, waking from her slumber, comes over to the table and hops up on my lap. I begin petting her as Lucas continues his clothing showcase. Next he holds up a light blue sweater vest that looks pretty notal on the front, then he turned it around so that I could see the back, completely covered in poka dots, “buisiness in the fron, party in the back!” he squeals.
I laugh at the irony as well as the sweater, it looks rediculous but paired with some nice blue jeans and an orange and blue stiped button up underneither, it could look pretty awesome. “I hope you plan on wearing that at least one day to school.”
“well, yeah, why?”
“because it reminds me of Ms. Harris’ dresses.”
“Oh my goodness, you do not mean that blue poka dotted jumper with the stiped sleaves.”
“oh yes, and you need to wear a pair of blue jeans and that new orange and blue stripped shirt you got last time.”
“ok, as long as you wear this” and with that, he holds up a powder blue christmas sweater with a scene from roudolph the red nose raindeer on it.”
“can i wear something over it?” I ask, nearly praying for there to be a god so that I could pray to him.
“It depends, I’ll have to approve it later.”
“Ok, well if I don’t wear it, I’m sure I could wear it to Becca’s ugly sweater Christmas party.”
“yes, thats perfect! wear it there. Why are you going to Becca’s party?”
“she asked me to take pictures for the night because the last time she threw a party, everyone that prought a camera ended up with broken, los, or stolen cameras. So she has requested that I come and take the pictures so her guests don’t have to.”
“what is there to take pictures of?”
“Fake tan and white teeth, what else?” I say, describing half of the female students at our high school. We love in Colorado, who do they think they’re fooling with the tan? At least they’ll look back at the pictures and remember the fun they had.
“Its not like the pictures even represent anything.”
“Now how can you say that? The will show the fun that they’ve had.”
“really Pen? The pictures of fake girls and their boy toys drinking and flashing fake smiles will show the fun that they’ve had?” He replied, holding up another shirt. It was a simply kelly green sweatshirt, not hoodie, sweatshirt.
“Is that for me?” I ask, trying to think of what to put it with.
“Yeah, I figured that you, being the hippee recycler you are, would like a green sweatshirt. I was thinking some sort of cute shirt and a winter scarf.”
“Yeah, i think I saw a plad print shirt in here somewhere, I would probably need to wear leggings underneithe it, but ti would still be cute.” I scavenge the pile finally finding what I’m looking for.

Its a green, white, and pink plad skirt that probably comes to the middle of my thigh. I hold it up to show Lucas and he nods his head in approval, throwing the sweater in my for keeps pile. I follow suit with the skirt, thinking and hoping that I must have those lace white tights in my drawer somewhere.

The next thing he pulls out, I cannot even believe, its a seven foot pink flamingo.
“Now what are you going to do with that?” I ask, stunned and appalled by its height and florescent color.
“I thought your dad may want another lawn decoration?”
“Another? What was the first one”
“Common Pen, what do you call that brick wall that’s around the property?”
“a wall”
“where is it?”
“On the lawn”
“my point.”
“Whatever, I hope you’re kidding there is no way dad would want something like that in his lawn.”
“why not? You would be representing those who cannot think of anything better to put in their lawn, the motor home people that your dad so commonly represents.”
“Yeah, I’m sure he’d go for that explanation” I say, surprised by the sharp edge of my voice. There is no way he would ever want to connect us to the people he represents in court. he may represent them, but it doesn’t mean he likes them. He took quite the falling out for saying something like that to the local newspaper a few months back.
“No, and that’s all” I say, closing the door on the giant flamingo.
“Alright, well I saved the best for last, thats it for me.”
“Ok, I guess I’m pretty hungry, we should consider heading to lunch” I add, trying to think of somewhere to go.
“How about fazolis?” He asks, reading my crazing.
“Sounds delicious. I could really go for some of those breadsticks” I say, drooling.
“Me too, but dont let me have too many, I don’t want to destroy my girlish figure.”
“Cute, Lucas.”

With that, we gather our huge piles of clothing and head toward the check out counter. Shadow scampers after us with her leash trailing behind her because we have too much to carry to hold onto a leash. She really does not need it though and there’s no one in the tore besides us. Just in case though, once we get to the counter, I set my clothing down and grab hold of the leash.

Jen’s the only one working today as she rushes to the counter to check us out making polite conversation about the weather, the items we found and the general order of how we are doing. Lucas has a substancial amount more than me, but neither one of our totals go over $25 leaving plenty of money in both of our bank accounts. Even though mom and dad are both loaded, I try to keep myself sustained on my own as far as clothing and other fun things go. Since I work for the school, they have arranged that i get paid based on the number of pictures I give them to sell and publish, with my name creditied of course. it depends on the event, but I commonly make somewhere around a dollar a picture, sometimes more. So if I shoot fifty good pictures during a football game, thats 50 in my pocket. Becca’s party is paying me double that, but her parents are covering everything from the party, including my pay check. Becca takes money from her parents.

In no time at all, we’re headed back to the car each with several bags of new treasures. You know what they say, “one man’s trash is another’s treasure.” We put all of our bags into the trunk and I pull out the blanket I keep in the trunk for emergencies and other events for Shadow. I unlock the car, begin the heater and ignition than spread the blanket over the back seat so that Shadow has somewhere comfortable and warm to lay rather than our laps, she is shedding a little today, it must be time for a nice brushing, I’ll have to remember to do that tonight.

On our way to Fazoli’s we begin talking about how we’re going to get Shadow into the restaurant.
“I’m going to have to act blind again, aren’ t I?”
“No, I will” I say, people already think I get dressed in the dark, I would be more convincing anyways.
“Good, I hate doing that. Besides, my hair looks too good today to have been done by a blind man.”
“Oh puhlease I say, thats terrible, besides, it looks like you rolled out of bed and fluffed it with moose, anyone could do that, sight impaired of not.”
“Yeah, ok Pen.”

I’m not irritated with Lucas, but we drive silently toward Fazolis anyway. All the while, we can hear Shadow humming, snoring, and practically purring in the background. She’ll wake up when we get close, she loves their breadsticks too and could smell them a mile away. As we pull up, I get my sunglasses from the glovebox and head to the back door to get Shadow, my “seeing eye” dog.
“Remeber to grab the waterbottle water feeder” I remind Lucas, Shadow is drolling a lot and probably really thursty. T wonder what the Fazolis people are thinking about a blind girl driving.

We walk toward through the enrence with Lucas holding the door for Shadow and I. For a puppy, Shadow sure understands a lot about how she needs to act in certain situations. i really wonder sometimes whether she can read my mind because that would be awesome. Once we’re in, I go with Shadow to find a seat and leave Lucas to make the order, he knows I always get the Italian beef with mozzerla and marinera, so i trust him to make the right decsion.

Ok, getting rediculous.

3 11 2009

Alright, so I’ve now written 6,823 words and I cannot believe how amazing I feel. This is like so purifying and fantastic, but I cannot imagine putting it all on this blog. So here’s what I think I’m going to do: update with my latest writing whenever I fee like it. Maybe i’ll try to put some of my favorite parts on here of something which will be kinda hard since I’m not going back to edit anything, its like sandpaper its all so rough!

Still November 2

2 11 2009

More NaNoWriMo, am I posting too much?
We both go silent, drinking our perspective drinks, thinking about school. Well, at least i’m thinking about school, I have no idea where his mind is–probably dreaming of Mr. Right from last night. The window opens to another beautiful winterscape. I love winter, everything dies and turns pur in the increadible beautiful of death and life. I mostly love the revival of the spring. Its a real miricule, eveything turning gree and becoming new, things giving birth and waking anew. Last spring, I took continuos shots of the changing season, showing the progress from literla death to the new.

Lucas interups my thoughts, “What are we doing today?”
“I dunno, I guess I thought we’d go shopping, what lse would we do on a Saturday?”
“Sounds like a plan, I can do homework tomorrow I guess.”
“Good, we can get together and finish the Comfort Woman together–I read a chapter than you do, plan?’

Deciding we should get a move on, I head for the garbage and dispose of my empty cup. I wish they recycled here–there is just too much paper being wasted for it all to seem worthwhile. I really should try to make my own coffee, but nothing beats Starbucks’ white mocha.

Shadow happily bounds to my side, anxious to leave, she probably has to go to the bathroom. I tell Lucas that we’ll meet him in the car as he heads up to talk more with Gerrick. Poor guym he probably thinks Lucas is interested in him–Lucas just likes talking to people, discovering their stories–she says it inspires him–I call in using people.

I leave, taking another wiff of the coffee filled air–enough to sustain me unitll we come nest. Walking out the door, Shadow and I both underestimate a pile of snow in our walkways and both sink straight into its depths. Shadow yelps, her puppy legs being buried while I can no longer see the sparkle of my gold flats. I pick her up, relesing her from her cold imprisonment and place her on the sidewalk while I shake off my own feet, surpized of how cold I become.

Shadow sees a nice spot to releave herself at the foot of a tree decorating an island off of the parking lot and I head for the car to begin heating it up. With the keys in the ignition, I open the trunk and look ove rthe clothes I’m bringing to the store.

Lucas sinally dinished his flirtation session and happily strides back toward the car, pucking up Shadow on his way in. Once we’re both in the car, I relize I had forgotten to thank him fro the drink.

“Thanks for the drink”
“You’re welcome Pen, my pleasure.”
“Well, what now,” he asks, taking Shadow from the foot area beheath the dash and putting her on his lap.
“I thought we’d head to the store as long as you’re cool with that.”
“Sounds great.”

Heading to the store, Shadow finds her way to my lap and curls into a ball, happy to be riding in the humming, moving car. We don’t have to go far to get to the nearest good will, so I move my legs occasionally to keep her awake so she isn’t a monster to wake once we actually get there. Once we arrive, I attach Shadow’s leash to her collar, she will need it in the store–lots of people bring their pets here, and the shop owners never seen to really mind.

Stepping out of the car, the three of us notice its snowing. Its one thing to wake up and see the first snow, its an entirely different thing to feel the season’s first snow flake. People tend to get sick of the snow really quickly, but I love it. It makes people slow down and try to take things in. Cars have to go slower, classes get canceled, stores close down, people are forced to stay home–most people that is. my parents have said that money knows no weather. My father has actually gone into the office early, slept at his desk, an woken there to do his work so that he would not miss any work on account of the snow. I guess as a lawyer, he feels that people need him. But my dad doesn’t stick up for the good guy–he has the guilty inmates and its his job to help their be proven innocent. he has a airy good track record, to his opinion.

I feel the snowflake hit and melt on my nose making a small little puddle I can see by crossing my eyes and looking really closely at it. Lisa used to say that if I crossed my eyes too much, they would stay that way. Mom proved her wrong once saying, “as a cerified optical surgen, I know that is incorrect.” Lisa explained ythat she simply didnt want me to get a headache but mom was infuriated by the idea that I could have been told wrong informtaion–what does she think dad does for a living?

I head to the trunk to remove the old cloths and we head to the donation part of the store. They greet us by names and are happy to see Shadow–I give them my donations and head into the stores. I’ve been asked before what I shop at Goodwill and I’ve wondered this myslef. I guess I sort it out because I look at it as a recycling habit. That is, I purchase the clothing, help the store, then bring the pieces back when I’m done with them. Since the clothing is so inexpensive, I can afford to do this a lot so they are almost always reciving in return what I had previosuly bought so they can seel the same item again.

One time, when I was very little my family was moving and my dad wanted to get rid of a lot of items he felt they would never use in the “bigger house.” He said that he didnt want people looking at us like we didn’t have money and felt the items we had were meant for people with no money. So he donated almost everything from our closets, furnatire, toys, and everything else not alive in the house and took it to the goodwill. I went with him because I followed my dad around a lot in those days, I was very young and very much a “daddys girl.” Our family went through this transition while my mother was finiching her residency in the optica hospital and my dad has just passed the bar exam with flying colors. They said, “we’re really going to go places” and I thought that menat that we were moving houses.

It did, but they also felt our “status” would go up once we moved. So, we did, we moved from small ton in southern illinois to a weathy area of Colorado. They wanted to be in an exciting area where we would be well known and looked up to. So when I was three, we left the small house, nearly a shack in Illinois and loaded the car with nearly nothing but a check for the new house, clothing on our back, and Bruce, our very old golden retriever who was my best friend. The whole ride there, I cuddles with Brace and he kept me warm in our poorly heated car which very badly needed repairing.

When we arrived, the house was completely furinished and I had a new closet of clothing, all name brand labels and delicate cloth, no more cotten for me. My pareants said that we needed to reflect our new means and the best way to do this was through our clothing. This is also when we got Lisa. I always complained about my clothing to Lisa and one day, sveral years after our move, she got so sick of my complaining that she took me to Goodwill to look for some new cloths. ever since the time that Dad dropped off our house at the store, I’d been fastinated with it and wanted to go back. Finally, I was able to go with Lisa. Since she was buying me the cloths, this is where we went and she let me loose, telling me to choose whatever I wished. I did and came back with bright pink tights, a full length jean jumper, puke yellow shoes that weren’t my size and a rainbow headband. Lisa bought me those items and that is the beginning of my fashion eye.

Ever since then, I’ve been fastinated with the Goodwill and other local second hand stores. My parents don’t understand it, but they’re always surpised at how well the clothing seems to suit me. My mother always forgets where I buy my cloths and has asked seveeral times, where did you get that (fill in clothin item here)? Its like she doesn’t listen and forgets about me completely.

November 2: early hours

2 11 2009

I cannot believe how fast this is all coming out. Again, remember this is very rough and also, this is my own original work, please do not steal it, thank you!
Shadow begins flopping through the snow, headed toward the front where she will cry untill someone lets her in. Simpathetic, I quickly clean my plate and head toward the dishwasher, careful to leave things cleaner than when I left. i feel bad when Lisa cleans up my messes. mom runs her raged as it is, she doesn’t need to mess with my stuff too. I wonder if mom realizes the problems behind employing Lisa. Granted, she is an legal immigrand and american citizen, but it breaks my heart that Lisa doesnt work harder to do something more than clean houses. She has a beautiful mind and shoudn’t have to clean our messes, she has her own house to clean. I need to remember to give her another book, I know she just finished that last one and I think getting her started on the Harry Potters may be a good idea.

After cleaning off my plate as well as the counter, I can already hear Shadow begin her crying. Those puppy legs sure carry her a lot faster than they used to. Heading toward the front door, I grab and old hand towel and go to the front door. Opening it, Shadow runs in, excited to be in the warm house. I pick her up and head to my room where I’ll clean her paws and decide which cloths I need to get rid of today. Placing her on the ground, she curls so quickly in a ball that I don’t even have time to clean her paws. Unable to resist her cuteness, I grab my camera and shoot a few shotts, the light in here always is so purfect for photography.

My blinds are open and stream in rays of light reflecting off of the Shadow destroyed snow. Looking out, I see the same scene that the kitchen presented me, camera in hand, I head to the window, eager the capture the image forever. I open my window, remove the screen, and snap several shots of the yard paying close attention to the clouds and the trees. Closing up the window and putting it as it was, I am happy to see that I’ve gotten the shot just as a cloud drips over the sun. By the time it moves, the sun will be in too different of a spot to catch the same look.

Looking again to Shadow, she perks her ears and stands up, shaking off her feet. I again pick up the towel and go to her, cleaning off her feet, but she still shakes off, getting several pieces of dirt on my new sweater. I pick them off, making sure that she has missed the pile of clothes seeing that she has.

“Good girl” I pat her head and kiss her face. Her ears perk up, hearing the vibrating coming from my phone. I grab it from my Victorian style bedspread, a great find last winter.

Aswering the phone, “Hello?”
“Hey dollface.”
“Hey Lucas, what you up to?”
“Oh, just thinkin’ that coffee sounds wonderful this morning.”
“What time?”
“Whever you’re ready love, I was just waiting for a time to be sure I wouldn’t wake you.”
“Ok, I think I’ll be ready in less than an hour. I’ll come get you at about noon.”
“Sounds great, see you then.”
“see ya.”

Realizing that my hair was snarrly from the brisk morning and lask of wash, I grab the closest clothing items: tight, skinny jeans, an oversized purple sweater, blu and gold scarf, and my new fluffy blue leg warmers. I figure I’ll wear those gold flats Shadow is laying on. Bringing my treasures to the bathroom, I begin the hot water and hop in.

The shower doesn’t take long, but I take care in rubbing my scalp, being sure that its throughly conditioned and clean before sudding up the rest of my body. I’m currently using a lilac soap Lucas found in Paris last summer, my favorite flower. Discovering the fingers begin to prune, I relaize ‘ve been daydreaming a little about school. Turning off the water, I escape the shower, stepping onto the cold tile and remembering that Lisa is washing the rug that usually warms my feet. Oh well, It’ll help me move faster.

Washing my face and brightening my eyes, I pull on my cloths than begin working on my hair. Using as little prduct as possible, I finish my hair and make my way back to shadow and grab her leash. I’ve decided to bring her with, the Starbucks people love her and she loves the doggie latte.

Making my way to the front door, I double check to be sure my money and keys are in my wristlet with my camera hanging at my side. i dont carry a purse because everything I need is in the camera. A wristlet does just fine for me. Bringing Shadow down the stairs, we cross the threshold and Shadow shivers a littl as we make our way outside. Still not used to the cold, I forget my coat and silently curse myself for it.

Before long, we’ve made it to Lucas’ who is standing outside with a back covered in snow. Next to him, a snow angel smiles at him, felecting his outline. Seeing us, Lucas heads to the car, half skipping his normal, fun, uplisting, always half full walk. Excited to see Shadow, she bounces on his lap and gets covered in kisses.

Leaning over, we do our normal kis kis cheek ritual and he flashes a beautiful smile at me.
“How was your morning?” he asks, really interested.
“Just fine, I got some great shots of the snow, the sun was perfect this morning.”
“What, behind your eyelids?”
“No, I got up early to make sure I got the best light.”
“Oh Penny, after nearly three years in high school, you still don’t know how to do weekends?”
“No, I do, but you should have seen it,” I hand him my camera, beckoning for his criticism.

I love when other people look at my work. Pictures evoke so many emotions from people Its beautiful to see the life emitting from pictures that is contained in the very image creating it.

“They remind me of my parent’s winter calender images.”
“Really? How do they make you feel?” I notice Shadow looking at me confused, seemingly mirroring Lucas’ feelings.
“Um, cold?”
“Ha, funny” I exchange, motioning for him to return the camera to me, put the lense back on it and set it in my lap.

A few seconds pass before he says, “I’m sorry Pen, you know I don’t like the cold.”
“Could have fooled me this morning with the stupid angel you made.”
“Really, we’re having this argument?”
“No, I just want you to feel something when you look at the pictures.”
“I’m sure I would have felt more had I been with you this morning, smellig the firms and seeing the morning light.”
“I guess. Well, how was your night”
“Oh Pen, he was wonderful, everything I could hope for.”
“Another true love?” I wonder aloud.
“Perhaps, you can never tell this early.”
“What did you guys do?”
“Well, first, we went to that really great Italian resaurant n second street where they always have all of those weddings.”
“Yeah, thats the one, love theat name”
We both giggle at the irony as he continues, “Then, we went ice skating.”
“Where is there ice skating around here.”
“Thats the amazing thing, there isn’t, until you go inot the woods.”
“He knows this really great spot in Firn park with a frozen pond that has amazing skating.”
“Wow, thats romantic.”
“Yeah, it really was, he was so amazing, so graceful and elegant.”
“You’re drooling Lucas” I notice as we pull up to the Starbucks. Shadow notices too and stands up on her hind legs to lick it right off of his face. I’m not sure how he’ll react, but he just laughs. Thanks Shadow, I’ve never been kissed like that by a female.

Parking the car, I realize that I can’t even see the parking lines, they really need to work on those snow plows I venure aloud.
“I know, my neighboorhood only gets plowed now because the majoyer has a thing for the mil lady who complains about it when its nows. And you know what happens what you upset the mail lady?”
“No mail?”
“That, and no sex for the major.”
“Oh please, that is not happening, Mr. Dickens would never do that. Isn’t the mail lady really young?”
“Oh well, I guess everyone has their own flavor.”
They sure do” Lucas replies, smiling.
With than I open the door and so does Lucas and we begin our walk into the coffee shop. Shadow, the poor thing, is shaking so bad that I pick her up so that her sensative toes don’t have to feel the cold ground.

Walking into the Starbucks, Geerrick, Lucas’ favorite barista is behind the counter. Knowing he will get a us a few free drinks, I find us a table and set Shadow down on the ground where she won’t desturb anyone. They finally put up their holiday decorations which I am so glad to see, I love when people decorate for the holidays, its so special and personal. When walking down the street, no house will loom the same. I wish we decorated like this with all of the trimmings, lights, candy canes, statues, all sorts of beautiful winterness.

Families put up decorations together. I supposee theat if we were to display decorations, Lisa would be the one to do it. Mom and dad are just too busy thaey would say, “don’t you know we both work full time jobs” they would echo. As though I fail to notice their absense from our big house. Please don’t misunderstand–they’re not bad parents, just extraordinarily busy and hectic. But they love it. Life is like a game to them with the score being a number in the bank.

Lucas soon emerges from his flirtation session with our two drinks and one doggie latte which he sets on the ground beside Shadow who happily laps it up. I hope it doesn’t upset he tummy, we’ll just have to stay for awhile–my car may be old, but I dont need and puppy puke to make it age even faster.

Handing my my venti whole milk while choloate rasperry mocha, Lucas begins sipping on his venti pumpkin lattee, a delight of the new season.
“Well, tell me more about this romantic” I becon.
“He is simply georges. He has these icredible green eyes that shine like diamonds with a greenenes to them.”
“Like emeralds?”
“No, they’re purer. His lips have this great red tint to them like hes constantly biting his lips, its so sexy.”
“Good dresser?”
“Yeah, but he likes name brands and actually seemed a littl put off when I told him my favorite store. I think he thinks I’m broke.”
“well, at least he won’t ask to borrow any money.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true.”
I look down at Shadow who is comfotably passed out, in a doggie latte coma I imagine. “You know, she may be too old to bring here before too long.”
“Nah, they like her, she’ll be fine.”
“So, how far are you in Comfort Women?” I wonder to him. Its the latest assignment in our world history class. Ms. Jones is taking a new angle with the course in attemping to show history through female eyes, the students love it, but the administration hates it. I actually heard one of them say that the women in the books she proposed inacctuatly portray history, making it much more gruesome than it actually was.

It pains me how little adults can know about the world. They’ve lives here for at least twenty or thirty years longer than I have, how come they don’t have a better idea of what they’re talking about yet? Ms. Jones has decided to teach the story anyways–shes so near retirement she says that she doesn’t care anymore.

“Far enough to relaize that I have no idea the kind of pain people from the past went through” he replied, contmeplaing what my response would be. “How do you feel about Ms. Jones teaching the story?”
“I dunno, I’m anxious to see what shes going to ask us to do with it.”
“Yeah, I just hope its not another book report.”
“I know, I’m pretty sure I could write one of those in my sleep.”
“No, I’m sure it will involves some of that “critical thinking” Emerson preaches.”