Thoughts on Little Things

I went for a ten-mile hike Saturday, managed to get blisters and tweaked my back but it was still one of the nicest weekends I can remember.

I think it is the little things that make or break a relationship. I did a lot of thinking about this while I hiked along the beach.

My ex didn't work for the last decade of our relationship. I have no issue with gender reversals. I didn't care that he didn't work outside the home and bring in an income.  However, in exchange, I expected that he would pick up the slack at home (he didn't). The little things: pick up the dishes, take out the trash, clean up after yourself. Nothing sent my anger level into the atmosphere faster than coming home from work and finding the house a disaster, the kids in front of the TV, and him napping. It was a display of complete selfishness.

My life is somewhat different now.  I still work full-time, but I telecommute.  It makes for a different dynamic because I am able to toss the laundry in the washing machine during the day, or start dinner in the crock-pot  In some ways, I think this makes teamwork worse because people forget I am not at home to be doing home things, I am here working and need to treat my job in the same manner I would if I was in the office. So, while I may take a few minutes here or there, I pretty much try to stay focused during the day.  As soon as the work day is over, I leave my computer and start dinner, or wash up the dishes from breakfast, etc. My family, on the other hand, is content to walk in the door and immediately start "relaxing" until dinner is ready.

I understand that work and school is stressful and that one comes home and wants to relax.  However, if everyone relaxes then nothing gets done.  Dinner doesn't get cooked, laundry doesn't get done, the floors don't get swept.  If everyone relaxes but mom, then mom ends up tired, cranky, overworked and resentful. Resentful is never good for a relationship.

I would like to see my family complete one selfless act daily.  One thing that is done completely for the benefit of someone else (hopefully it will lead to more).  I want them to see beyond the 'reward me' attitude: I put my laundry away, or I did my homework, or I put my dinner dishes in the sink.  Yes, those things are beneficial, but they mostly benefit just that person.  I want them to go beyond doing just the minimums. It is the kind, little things, that benefit relationships (between a couple, between siblings, between parents and kids): taking an extra moment to say thank you, please, or you're welcome; picking up something up and putting it away even if it isn't yours; showing interest in another person's activities; and learning to share.

So, back to what made my weekend so enjoyable. The BF made my weekend!  We worked on several things and it was so nice to do them together.  Not that we don't do things together normally, we do. What made this different, is that we did everyday, ordinary things together.  We made cupcakes.  We went shopping. We made breakfast.  We did the dishes.  Somehow, the fact that the activities were so absolutely ordinary, made the time spent together: talking, laughing, working, just that much better.  It was all those little things. I hope we never lose that togetherness.

Really really!

SHREK: Listen, little donkey. Take a look at me. What am I?

DONKEY: Er... really tall?

SHREK: No! I'm an ogre. You know, 'Grab your torch and pitchforks!' Doesn't that bother you?

DONKEY: Nope

SHREK: Really?

DONKEY: Really really. 

That's kind of how the decision to move to Hawaii happened.  The BF (I'll come up with something better maybe later) and I were texting about his living situation at his new duty station and somehow living together came up.  Since it was via text message and moving across the OCEAN is kind of a big deal, I sought some clarification later on the phone.

"You really want me to live with you?"

"You really want to live with me?"

"Well, yeah."

"Well, okay."

"Really?"

"Really really."

And that was about the end of the discussion...at least as I remember it. You'd think that a lot has changed, but it doesn't seem like it. I still get everyone up in the morning.  I make everyone's lunches. I get the kids off to school. I get to work. After work, there is homework, gym, dinner, tv, etc. Pretty sure the biggest changes have been for the BF...the loss of his quiet solitude now interrupted by the chaos of a teen, drama-tween, and child. Plus, he has to SHARE the X-box. (Oh the horrors!)

One thing I've started doing again on a regular basis, is cooking.  There is one major factor behind this: it is outrageously expensive to live here.

The perk however is that I've been reminded that I like cooking.  And not just a bunch of boxed, pre-made stuff that gets thrown together and called a meal.  No, I've been making meals that would make my mama proud. I made a cake from scratch! Before this, I have never made anything but boxed cake mix.  I also made waffles and pancakes without Krusteaz.  I even tried my hand at pizza dough and pizza sauce...with yeast and everything. Today I made mini-pineapple upside down cakes. It will be perfect with a cup of Kona coffee later. Nom nom.

 

Thought for the Day: Words

Humans. The only living, breathing creature on the planet that uses words.

Is there anything more powerful than words? Sure, there are weapons of many kind, but words can be wielded by anyone. Weapons may cause some to cower in fear, but words can inspire the masses to rise together. Some may use them with the dancing grace of a swordsman, others with the brutish force of a club. Words can bring comfort, peace and hope, or they can bring pain, hate and anger.

Some say "actions are louder than words." However, what about when the distance is such that actions are not visible? When the very expression of words becomes the action?

Writing is a beautiful form of words. With writing we can take time to accurately express our thoughts. Things we may find difficult to express orally. In writing, we can tell of fantasies, dreams and desires. In writing, our words can be enjoyed again and again.

Words truly are powerful; even more so when they are expressed openly, honestly and thoughtfully.

"I am but a reader, give me your words, that I would know the expressions of your heart."

Happy Thoughts

The mind is an amazing thing. You can be focused on what's in front of you while your brain is ruminating on something else entirely.  Your characters can be plotting and developing in the recesses of your mind, for example. Or a conversation you had could be replaying in your head. Lyrics to your favorite song could be on repeat.

Often you don't even realize it until you have that "ah ha" breakthrough moment, or when you catch yourself humming or singing.

Peter Pan had it right. With a happy though you can fly!

My favorite people are my happy thoughts and they're always on my mind. First thing in the morning; last thing at night. Not in an obsessive, stalkerish sort of way, but they're always there, in the recesses of my mind. My happy place.

They're just there, making me smile. My mind touches on thoughts of them throughout the day. Those that I'm closest too are never far from my heart and my immediate thoughts. Usually that thought inspires a quick text just because or a funny tweet or sometimes an email or a *gasp* hand-written note. Sometimes the thought makes me do something crazy, like send flowers, a silly gift, or have Chinese food delivered.

When my kids are at school, I sometimes note the time and think, "oh they're at lunch" or "I hope my son's test went well."  My BFF is a long distance away from me and no day feels complete without at least a good morning and good night text. 

When I haven't heard from them I have this emptiness, a distinct feeling that something is missing. My happy is missing a key component.

If there is a good reason for the lack of connection, my mind lingers on them and while I miss them, I mostly think how lucky I am to have such great people in my life.  However, when there is no plausible explanation, I find it hard to focus on anything but the missing component.

How about you? What are your happy thoughts? What do you do when they go missing? What have you done lately to show the people you love how much you appreciate them?

If I...

by KK Sierra.

If I were an artist, I'd paint you in a picture, with turquoise waves lapping at white beaches.

If I were a photographer, I'd capture your real smile, remind you to focus on the important things.

If I were a musician, I'd play you a song, to lift your heart and help you soar.

But, I'm just a writer, and all I have are the soul baring words you refuse to read.

I wish you happiness.

I wish you love.

I wish you here.

###

No Regrets

by KK Sierra

No goodbyes.
No regrets.
It's better this way.

Walked away.
Couldn't look back.
Who says its better this way?

Things are gone; empty rooms.
Vanilla lingers in the air.
Why is it better this way?

Passion embraced in the night.
Sharing love, sharing life.
Why do you want it this way?

You built a wall.
You hide yourself.
I won't say its better this way.

I'll sleep alone.
No regrets...
But, I don't want it this way.

###

12/11/10 - A special day I'll always remember. 

Penis vs Vagina

I heart Phil Torcivia. He is hilarious and often right on point. When I read this particular blog post however, it immediately brought to mind a recent conversation with a good friend.

My friend and I were sharing our weekends which led to discussing relationship issues and undecipherable mixed signals. He wrapped it up like this, "See, the penis knows not what it wants, and the vagina does, though does what it shouldn't."  In other words, guys don't really know what they want, give mixed messages, and follow the lead of their penis. Girls know what they want and chase after guys they shouldn't anyway.

And that, in my opinion, is at the heart of why good girls lean toward bad boys.

First, I think we need to define "good girls" for the sake of my argument. Good girls referred to here are women who for the most part have their "stuff" together. These are girls who are socially and academically successful. Girls who have jobs, their own cars, and can pay their bills on time.  Girls who are attractive, keep in shape, dress nice and stay well-groomed (hair styled, body parts waxed, etc.). They are girls who are positive, honest, and morally decent, maybe even a little innocent. (Do not mistake this for boring or unadventurous.)

This type of woman wants a man who has it together. One who can challenge her intellectually with more than pop culture. One who can laugh, joke, tease and have fun without dissolving into bathroom humor. One who will be interested in the things that interest her and will listen as attentively to her as she listens to him. She wants a man who is honest, honorable, and worthy of her respect. She wants a man who can change a tire, knows how to use a hammer and wrench, and is equally comfortable domestically. She wants a man who will make her feel genuinely beautiful and sexy.

Nice guys, the ones who get relegated to friend status, don't put off the right vibe. They may fulfill everything listed above, but they're missing something.  That thing that grabs our attention and hooks us for more.

We aren't necessarily looking for the Alpha male, but we're looking for a strong presence. Something that says you'll challenge us. A confident swagger that makes us swoon. Whether we were created or have evolved, woman in general, craves man. 

Fuck the feminist agenda! We want a man to be a man. We want him to hold our hand, or throw an arm around our waist, and be just possessive/jealous enough that we know we're wanted and our relationship is secure. We want to be protected and cared for. We want a man who will defend himself and us. We want him to be dominate in the bedroom.

This is especially true for the "good girl" described above. She's already successful! She doesn't need you to complete her. She's already got it together financially. She's likely building a strong career. She doesn't even need you to start a family. She doesn't need a man, but dang it, she wants one!

We don't really want bad boys. Nope, *shaking my head* we absolutely do not. Bad boys are arrogant, thoughtless, selfish asshats.

So, when you look at all those things, why do we lean towards the bad boy? Why do we know what we want but do what we shouldn't?

Because we don't want to be your momma! Your nice guy demeanor makes you seem like a pushover. Someone we can control. We don't want a sheep. We want a man, dammit!

Bad boys ooze confidence. They put off that challenge vibe. They excite us and keep us off balance. They speak to an inner desire we try to pretend doesn't exist. That inner need women have where we, in spite of our success, want a man to be our big strong hero, to allow us a weak moment in our otherwise organized lives where we can be the damsel in distress, rescued by the man we crave. We don't always want to make the decisions and be in charge.

We know better and yet, we give into that inner desire, and pursue the bad boy we suspect will only half fill our needs. We knowingly set ourselves up for heartache hoping the bad boy exterior we are attracted to hides a nice guy underneath. Often, we hate ourselves as we walk away, again and again.  We wish we could find someone that was the combination of the dominate bad boy and our nice guy confidant.

How do we remedy this? Nice guys need to be themselves, stop over analyzing what they "think" we want, and show us their inner bad boy!

###

I shared this with a friend before posting and he responded: since the dawn of puberty, your entire post has been the frustration to males like me and the guys I hung out with.

So...guys, ladies, what do you think? Please share your thoughts!

Seventeen Days

by KK Sierra.

Cheated. Betrayed. Lost.

Those three words seemed to describe most accurately what she felt as she stared at the computer screen trying to grasp what she had read.

He was breaking up with her...by email.

What had happened in 17 days to change, "I love you more than any other in life till now" to "This isn't possible right now, nor will it be in the future"?

He had been someone worthy. The kind of person you were proud to call your friend. Someone she respected immensely. Devoted to helping others, not selfishly pursuing a career that only benefited himself. He kept her guessing and she liked that, although she wished he didn't make her feel off-balance in the process. There was so much he kept to himself; she felt she could spend a lifetime figuring him out.

He had been her totem. No matter the distance or the craziness that surrounded her, he could bring her peace with a simple "good morning." He was too serious, and liked to tease her just to watch her get riled up.

She'd been cheated and didn't know why. There was so much she'd wanted to share, so many more memories to make. An evening picnic on the beach to watch the sun set. A camping trip perhaps. An offer to take her to a gun range. A desire to see him work magic with his camera. Hot chocolate and snowflakes. Their first New Year's Eve kiss.

Had she really misinterpreted everything he'd said and done? Had she been betrayed by him or her own heart? It had allowed her to forget her decade long lesson in trust. Had it blinded her too?

He changed. It all changed. She stood in the tattered remnants of their relationship unsure if she was the cause or simply left to deal with the effect.

Two weeks. A mere seventeen days from a happy contentment she hadn't felt in years to lost in a swirling abyss.

###

To be Worthy - a short

To be Worthy

by KK Sierra


Many men had sought her.

In that wild western time.

Drawn to beauty and survival.

Seeking naught but selfish gain.

Lazy, deceitful, unkind, perhaps cruel.

A means to their wishes.

Skilled hands for hard labor.

Cooking, cleaning, laundry, and dishes.

Or for personal pleasure alone.

For none she spared thought.

To none she gave consent.

She desired only a hero.

A man of self-sacrificing worth.

To be important to him.

Until the End - a short

Until the End by KK Sierra

Crimson red, it runs down.
Staining the earth beneath him.
Life ebbs with each heartbeat.
Weary, the fight leaves him.

A whisper, a gasp, "Ana."

The wound will take him.
No heroics can stop it.
Offer comfort, peace, and love.
Vengeance is yours; you'll repay.
It shan't be in vain.

Giving Names

My boss and one of my employees name their cars. We were discussing this the other day. He thought the habit may have come from his daughter who as a child named everything. Her dolls, the cars, the pets, pretty much everything got a name.

I on the other hand don't recall liking to name anything. The few dolls I do recall naming had super simple names.  The doll with the pink hair and dress was Rosie. Her brother was Jesse. The black cow was Blackie. The sneaky, black and tan dog was Bandit. Nothing terribly unique or exciting. 

Even today I hate naming things.  I'm pretty sure I read every name and meaning in the 100,000 Baby Names book before my son was born. Choosing the right names for my children was very important. 

I have a difficult time naming my characters in stories. I don't know why exactly. I think one reason it is hard is that some names instantly conjure up certain stereotypes. Raul - dark, handsome, daring scoundrel. Savannah - sniveling, spoiled bitch.

The other reason, I guess, is names are important to me. Things are more meaningful when you include someone's name. Think about your parents. When they said, "John Michael Smith!" you knew they meant business. 

When I have something important to say, I use names. I always make a point to say, "I love you, XXX" rather than just "I love you, babe." Nicknames are cute and fun, but when you really mean something, when something is more important than a car, a name must be used.  Maybe that's the real reason the characters in my short stories usually don't have names.

What do you think? Is it easy to name things? How do you feel about the importance of using someone's name? 

Surprises Follow Up

A few weeks back I told you I had a surprise or two up my sleeve. I'm here to follow up on that and tell you what they were.

First, remember back when I went parasailing earlier in the summer? Then a little while later I conquered my fear of roller coasters?  Well, my friend's birthday is in two weeks and I won't be able to be there so I decided an early present was in order. A couple years ago he went sky diving and thought it was amazing. I wanted to do something with him that he loved so I made arrangements for us to make a jump on my last visit.

The day was absolutely beautiful, warm and sunny. The people at the sky diving company were totally cool and made me comfortable. My friend, of course, had no time to stress and be anxious.  I, on the other hand, had nightmares about falling out of the airplane unattached or the parachute failing to open for weeks.

Despite my fears, it was the most amazing thing ever. It wasn't actually scary. You don't have the same stomach dropping feeling like you do on roller coasters. I am thankful I have a video recording to relive the experience again and again. I would definitely do it again in a heartbeat. I was so happy to share the experience with one of my most favorite people.

Now, the day this blog posts, I'm delivering on another surprise. I told my best friend she'd have wine delivered in time to drink with her cake. She was expecting it to be sent via FedEx. Instead I'm bringing it to her.

Obviously I'm writing about this before it happens but I will be jumping on a plane after work today and should arrive at her house around 2 a.m. I'm hoping when this posts that I was able rouse someone and am sleeping in the house, but there's a good chance I'll be sleeping in the rental car waiting to surprise her. I haven't seen her since August and I've missed her terribly. She's been going through a rough time and I can't wait to give her a big hug!

Planning surprises is so much fun! Have you done anything fun lately? What kind of surprise would you want to get?

Update: yes, I did sleep in the car and yes, I totally surprised her and it was awesome. Gave a little mini surprise to another friend later as well. :D

A Fall Story

Laughter rang across the open field from the orchard beyond. The source of the sound hidden amongst the changing leaves. Although the sun still shone brightly in the sky, autumn was taking firm grasp of the world. Frost had crept in during the night leaving drooping, dying plants in its wake; wide leaves no longer hiding their bright orange treasures.

Soon wisps of fine gray smoke would waft above the red brick chimney of the small home. Baskets of shiny red apples would be peeled, cored, and sliced. The tangy odor of rising bread would mix with cinnamon and citrus. Cocoa and hot toddies would be savored.

Bright colors would please the eyes. The rich burgundy of cranberry sauce punctuated by bright orange peel, the various golden browns of baked bread, roast turkey and apple cobbler, the creamy white of smashed potatoes with the soft yellow of melting butter, the bright green of string beans, and the deep orange of pumpkin pie.

Most importantly, the home would fill with friends, family, and love as they took time to be thankful for all the blessings they had, big or small.

The writer who held things together, the marine who kept them safe, the niece who made them laugh, the munchkin who made them smile, the corpsman who watched over them, and the friend who loved them all.

###

The Rendezvous - Part 2

Hello. If you haven't had the chance, you might want to read Part 1 here first. Happy reading!

The Rendezvous - Part 2

by KK Sierra

He checked the clock on his dash. Thirty minutes before his babe’s plane landed; plenty of time to grab a pack of cigarettes and a can of Skoal. It was a nasty habit he knew, but not one he was ready to give up.

The convenience store was brightly lit and well designed. The aisles were wide, angling out from the counter to allow the clerk to see customers at any location in the store. The glass front ensured visual confirmation of anyone at the gas pumps, as well.

Standing in line behind a woman, he waited his turn to make his purchase. The woman looked like she hadn’t showered in at least a week and the pungent odor wafting from her made him step back a pace.

“Two thirty-two,” the clerk told the woman.

With painstaking deliberation, she pulled change out of her dirty shorts and one coin at a time, carefully counted out a few quarters, nickels and pennies. Stifling a sigh, he pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time.

The escalating whine caught his attention seconds before the Mazda crashed through the plate glass. He didn’t think, just reacted. With a step forward, he caught the woman around the waist and drug her with him as he pulled them both over and behind the counter, gashing his arm open as they went. The glass in the counter shattered as it was clipped by the passenger side mirror.

A scream was cut off as the car crashed in the back of the store, and then relative silence. The incident had lasted mere seconds.

The scene was surreal as he pried the sobbing woman’s fingers from his arm and helped her get to her feet. She was alright, as was the clerk who was muttering, “oh holy shit.”  Steam hissed from the engine of the car where it rested among the cold sodas and chocolate milk.

His military training had him instinctually aware of his surroundings and he knew exactly where every person had been in the store prior to the car crashing through. Seven people, in all; himself, the clerk, the woman, a man at the soda fountain, two teens in the candy aisle, and a woman at the end cap looking at donuts. He quickly surveyed the room. The donut woman was missing.

Skirting the counter, and stumbling around in the debris, he followed the path of the car. Donut boxes, among other things, had exploded on impact with the car. On the far side of the car, he saw an arm. With authority he spoke to the clerk, “Call the police.” He glanced inside the car at the driver. The old man’s face reflected death. He suspected he’d had a heart attack. Reaching through the open passenger window, he checked the man. The old man had no pulse. He knew there was nothing more he could do for him, and instead focused his attention on the woman. “Tell them we need two ambulances.”

Beckoning Soda Fountain guy he said, “Come help me.” On his hands and knees beside the car, he tried to see the woman. He checked her wrist and found her pulse to be weak, but steady. “See if the clerk has a flashlight. I can’t see anything.” He didn’t want to move her from under the car, until he’d checked her out a little better.

With the flashlight in hand, he was able to see her face. She appeared to be unconscious. Nothing jumped out at him to indicate he needed to leave her under the car until she could be better stabilized. “Help me move her,” he asked Soda Fountain guy.

Together they carefully slid her from under the car. “Hold her head,” he instructed Soda Fountain guy. He helped him put his fingers on either side of her ears, toward her body, keeping her head still.  She wasn’t moving, but it was important to stabilize her head to prevent further trauma. "Don't let her move."

Running through a ingrained mental checklist, he gave her a once over. Her breathing was labored and his exam revealed obviously broken ribs. He suspected significant internal bleeding. However, since she was breathing on her own and there was no more than superficial bleeding to stop, there was little else he could do to help her.

The paramedics arrived shortly thereafter and he let them take over. The clerk was still standing behind the counter and handed him a pack of cigarettes as he walked by. Guess he just had “I need a smoke” written on his face. He walked outside. The parking lot awash with the garish flashing of emergency lights. News crews wouldn't be far behind.

The dirty woman came over to where he stood smoking the much needed cigarette. They matched now; his clothes were filthy, covered with the remnants of broken shelving, dry wall, soda bottles, food and blood. “Thanks,” she said shyly. “I think this is yours.” He took his cell phone and grimaced.  He knew not memorizing phone numbers would someday bite him in the ass. These days he didn’t even bother to memorize the number to his work. Why bother when everything was so conveniently stored in his phone and synced with his computer at home.

Now, looking at the smashed face of his phone, he swore. His babe was waiting; probably waffling between worry and anger. He thought about the young woman inside and how she only wanted donuts. He reflected on how short life was and how quickly it could be taken away. He and his babe were going to have a serious talk soon. 

###

Nectar of Life

I am not happily a morning person (this has been mentioned before). I'm not a really grumpy morning person either. Once I'm actually awake, I do alright.  However there are a couple things that make my morning.

1) Greetings from my babe.
2) Coffee.

Oh sweet heavenly caffeinated goodness. I'll take it in any form: black, sweetened with cream, espresso, IV.


"Coffee?"

"Oh baby, you say such sweet things."

High stakes bribery can take either of the preferred forms below:

1) Triple venti non-fat caramel macchiato (only Starbucks, please...no one else does it right)

2) 20-ounce non-fat coconut mocha (hold the whip cream)


Just sayin'. (I prefer my coffee hot, by the way.)


Happy Wednesday Ya'll.

It's Just a Little Thing

Trust.

from: www.seattleartglass.com

A pretty little glass ball, capable of being tossed by the sea, and yet susceptible to cracks and stress fractures. Trust is such a fragile thing that I really don't understand why it isn't treated with more care.

Trust can be earned and trust can be gifted. There are several variations of the definition according to Merriam-Webster.

With your children they earn trust with their behavior. This would fall under: to permit to stay or go or to do something without fear. You've watched them grow and instilled in them values.  So that first time you leave them unsupervised, send them out with friends, or give them the keys to the car, you say, "I trust you." Based on their behavior, they've earned your trust. You trust that they'll follow the rules in your absence, stay out of trouble, drive carefully, etc.

The first time they fail, your trust takes a hit. However, they're your children so you address the situation. You do your best to teach them from the mistake, they work hard, your trust is re-earned and you try again.

Relationships between friends are also based on trust. It's both earned and gifted. I believe the correct definition in this case is: to place confidence in: rely on. The first gift may be trust over a shared confidence, or a borrowed favorite pair of shoes. Over time, the trust grows as it is both earned and continues to be gifted. You trust your friend to keep your secrets, to be there for you when you need to vent, and you trust their emotional support. The first time you find out they've betrayed something between the two of you, you may not immediately react and end the friendship, but your friendship will be damaged. You'll find yourself questioning everything they say and do. You'll share less with them in an effort to protect yourself. It takes a lot of effort to rebuild that trust.

Relationships between a couple, that's a much deeper level of trust, especially if you're intimate or have exchanged expressions of love. This more along the line of: to commit or place in one's care of keeping; to rely on the truthfulness or accuracy of.  It takes incredible trust to hand a person your heart. To share with them your deepest needs, worries and fears, to admit your weaknesses.

In this case, trust is truly a gift, and the giver takes a huge risk.

When you've opened your heart to trust someone, why do they not understand the fragility of that trust? Especially if the giver has been hurt in the past and is tentatively reaching out. White lies, lies of omission, they're all still lies. What they don't know won't hurt them is such bullshit.

Love is being worthy of that gift of trust.

Why lie about something when there is no reason to?  Why say you're reading a book when you're really playing video games? Who cares either way? It's your free time, or your GPA at stake. Why be vague about who you're with or what you're doing? It just leads to wondering about what else you're not being honest about. If they've never before had a reason not to trust you, you've just given them one.

The lie, the omission, no matter how small, puts little cracks in trust. Eventually, like those pretty glass floats, a little pressure on those cracks, and its gonna shatter in your hand.

The Rendezvous - A Short

I haven't been doing enough writing lately. So, for fun, here's a fictional story.

The Rendezvous

by KK Sierra

She stepped off the plane onto the jetway; the oppressive humidity making her gasp for breath. She glanced down at her sweaty, rumpled clothes, and made her way up the boarding ramp to the closest restroom.  The air conditioned terminal bringing her momentary relief.

Secured behind a stall door she removed the plastic cover from the mint green dress with its narrow, braided straps and cluster of flowers at the right side of the waist. Stripped down to her panties, she balanced on her flip flops to keep her feet from the dirty floor as she refreshed her deodorant and swiped some lotion on her legs and arms. The light scent of mango danced around her.

Excitement that had been building during the flight threatened to bubble over and she could not help but smile. It had been weeks and she missed her love. She was looking forward to the look of affection in his eyes and hoped he appreciated the effort she put forth to look special. It had been a long day, followed by a long drive and an equally long flight. The clothing she wore was far from her normal attire.

Slipping into her beige peep-toed heels, she smoothed the front of the airy dress. It swirled around her, the skirt ending just above her knees. Quickly she repacked her things, momentarily wondering why she hadn’t gotten the usual, “you land yet?” text message. The better to surprise him, she surmised.

A minimalist, she ran through her hair quickly with a brush and freshened her breath. No need for makeup. She loved her bright red lipstick but only when she didn’t plan on kissing anyone, and tonight, she definitely planned on kissing someone. Anticipation made her shiver. With a final, satisfied glance in the mirror, she grabbed her bag and headed out.

Foot traffic in the terminal had diminished quickly, as would be expected for a late evening flight. She nodded to the now familiar, aging security guard as she passed TSA’s point of no return into the unsecured part of the airport. He smiled in return and gave her a thumbs up. She was confident in her pretty, flirty dress and high heels.

The hall, however, was quite empty. No tall, smiling man. No sweeping embrace. No phone call. No text message. Her walk slowed, her gait faltered, her posture drooped, the confidence gone. Stunned, she stands in the corridor, lost.

A text sent, “I’m here.”

No response is received.

She wanders down the corridor for some sign. Finding none, she walks out into the still hot night air. Traffic whooshes by as passengers arrive and depart. The tweet of the policeman's whistle mingling with the hydraulic lift of the nearby bus. Alas, no sign of whom she seeks.

Forgotten.

Alone.

She sits.

The pretty dress is wrinkled.

Her face tear streaked.

And she sits.

###

Update 9/27/11:  If you'd like, read part 2, here.

You Like Purple Unicorns? Me Too!!!

It’s a classic tale. Boy meets girl. Boy and girl fall in love. Marriage and babies follow. The babies grow up, become friends with their parents friends’ children, and the cycle begins again. Same school, same church, same sports, same college. It happens all the time in neighborhoods all over the world. It happened in mine. Those I grew up with settled down with people that fit with the lifestyle they were already living, many of them with their childhood sweethearts.

I wonder what the statistics are for how far the average person gets away from the area where they were born. Fifty mile radius? A couple hundred maybe? How many people who manage to get away for college or join the military, end up returning to settle down in their home town?

Does commonality equate with long lasting, happy relationships? Are mutual interests enough? A shared love of football, hiking, or pop culture? Or do you need deeper core values in common? Can a Buddhist and a Catholic have a long term, happy relationship?  What about a Democrat and a Republican?

Maybe with mutual respect the differences in opinion simply make your relationship more interesting. Is such a thing even possible? 

If to your very core you believe in heaven and that you must accept Jesus as your Savior, can you live knowing your partner refuses to do the same? Does it tear you up inside? 

If you believe in a woman’s right to choose, can your partner reconcile their belief that life begins at conception?

This isn’t even touching on your friends and family and the controversy that will arise there.  I’m just musing about things between the two of you.  Friends and family are a whole different mess.

Obviously there was something that attracted you to that person to begin with. Perhaps that alone says those differences aren’t such a big deal. On the other hand, who meets a guy at a bar and says, “by the way, I believe in stem cell research.” Unless, of course, you’re trying to scare him off. While you’re at it, unless you have something nice to say, you might want to stay away from the topic of his alma mater as well. ;)

Your thoughts?

Parched

I have a plant in my office. It lives there because there aren’t enough windows for it to live happily in my home. Thank you dark, gray, Pacific Northwest, but I digress. This plant has been with me for about seven years now and this is the second office it has lived in.

Thing about my poor plant is despite the fact that it is less than three feet from me and I walk past it multiple time a day, I forget to water it. It gets droopier and droopier and eventually the leaves start falling off.  That’s usually the moment I realize Doh! I forgot to water my plant.  I’ll give it a bunch of water over the next couple days and before long it has perked back up and looks happy.  Sometimes the effort will even trigger new growth.  While my plant recovers and may even flourish for a while there is no way that it is healthy. I’m sure its growth is stunted by its inconsistent, inadequate watering. It’s root system is probably weak, maybe even rotted in places. Not only that, I’m pretty sure my plant is supposed to be tree-like, not bush-like.  I’m certain I’ve prevented it from ever reaching its full potential.

My plant reminds me of my marriage. My ex treated our relationship like I treat my plant. Although it was right there in front of him every day quietly pleading for attention, he forgot all about it until it was wilted and dying at his feet. Then he’d make a big show of putting all this effort into us, tooting his horn with “look at all the changes I’ve made,” and we’d perk up for a little while, until he forgot again.  (Believe me when I say I’m oversimplifying this. I could write a daily blog for years about that fiasco.)

Our relationship is over. Dead. Unfortunately he doesn’t see it that way. He’s spent the last seventeen months dragging out our divorce because he thinks I’m going to change my mind. In an effort to speed things along, I’ve agreed to open, direct dialog without our attorneys. He’s taken this as an opening to “water the plant.” It’s not working. The plant is dead. The branches may still be there but the leaves have fallen off and its root system is destroyed. No amount of pretty words will bring it back. I’ve moved on and he’s lost all rights to claim my attention or my heart.

It’s rarely big things that destroy a relationship. It’s the little things that undermine it, erode it, and weaken its core. You might be able to replenish it for a time, but unless it’s given the care and attention it needs on a regular basis, eventually it’s not going to make it.  I love this quote from Anais Nin. I couldn’t have said it better.

"Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of withering, of tarnishing."

Lies...it's all lies!

Why do we tell our children lies? They’re masked as beautiful fairy tales, mythical creatures or jolly old men, but they’re still lies.  Since we insist on telling these lies is it any wonder our children grow up with unrealistic expectations? We're setting our children up for failure in so many ways.  Let’s see some examples:

Santa Claus:

The story: Be good all year and a man will pop down your chimney and leave you presents.

Lesson learned: Something for nothing.

The consequence: Living off welfare. Do nothing, get money. It worked as a child, why not as an adult?

The reality: Being good or bad really has no bearing on what happens to you in life. You need to work hard and even if you do, success is not guaranteed.Sorry, but its the cold, hard truth.

Cinderella:

The story: Cinderella works her butt off cleaning, cooking and slaving for her evil stepmother. Eventually her true love rescues her and whisks her away to his castle where we presume she never has to lift a finger again.

Lesson learned: A man is the solution to all the evil in your life.

The consequence: A world full of gold diggers preventing men from finding authentic women.

The reality: If a man sees that you’re capable of working hard, he will expect you to continue doing so.

Belle:

The story: A nasty, snarling, hairy beast with horrible table manners does a couple nice things for a girl and ultimately she feels indebted to him. She hangs out with him and they engage in the age old dance of flirting by pushing each others buttons until when faced with his death she realizes she loves him. She kisses his hairy face and boom he turns into a handsome prince.

Lesson learned: Love will conquer all and buried under nastiness is a wonderful man.

The consequence: Rose colored glasses. We find one or two traits in a man that we can’t live without and ignore the ones that tweak us and make us crazy.

The reality: If you marry a beast, he will continue to be a beast. All those bad habits that you overlooked while you were dating will not go away. He won’t change until he wants to no matter how much you wish he would. He may make some progress, he may drink less, or watch less TV, or play fewer video games, but ultimately if you don’t like who he is now 100% do yourself a favor and walk away.

I can only think of one fairy tale that’s pretty true.

Peter Pan:

The story: Peter Pan and the lost boys decide they need a woman to take care of them and tell stories. Wendy falls for it for a little while.  Pretty soon she sees her situation for what it really is and leaves them.

The reality for girls: Boys will never grow up.

The reality for boys: If you have a smart woman she’s only going to put up with your bullshit for so long before she leaves your sorry ass.

Enough said.