Saturday, November 28, 2015

The monster in the garage!

It is a dark and stormy, albeit tranquil night. The poorly installed ruby red metal roof on a Dutch cape cod in the fictional town of Lancaster rattles worse than a snake slithering across the Taklamakan desert searching for any signs of life, human or alien, and quite possibly, lizards, scorpions, rats, dung mice etc….

A woman(me) looks out her large bay window at the new neighbors: a mother, father, and their two teenage daughters. They are standing in their driveway, illuminated by a funnel-shaped spotlight so huge every gigantic crack in the asphalt appears as if the driveway has recently been visited by the razor sharp fingers of Freddy Kreuger. There this family stands, staring at each other with fierce-like intensity, as if they are Zulu Warriors debating exactly how best to drive the spear into the bodies of their mortal enemies with ruthless efficiency!

The woman at the window sighs, sensing in her heart of hearts that the new neighbors are relocating from a Hell she/I has yet to experience in the previously peaceful neighborhood of Witcherton By The Forest. Her tense fingers stroke her cell-phone keys like Freddie stroking the tin can walls of a furnace, as the wind picks up, the velocity matching the voices beginning to shout at each other; first, the daughter to the father, then the mother to the daughter, then daughter to her sister. Suddenly, like a bad turn into the deepest, bleakest blackest bowels of Lancaster, the parents turn on each other!: arms raised, fingers jabbing, heads shaking, bodies swaying. The daughters merely look at each other in disbelief before they slice through the parental arguing like Freddie through the poor unfortunate girl in the bedroom; words, words, and more words, starting with the letter F and ending with the letter U!

I, er the woman at the window pulls out her cellphone…..

OMG, too late! Too late. At the exact same moment, I, er the woman holding the cellphone punches the number nine, the neighbor's garage door opens and literally swallows the whole family of four!

Ah, the woman sighs knowingly.  

Moving day!

Is there such a thing as moving back day? Can you abandon ship and expect it not to sink? I don't know. These are the kinds of questions I think are unanswerable. And kinda stupid tbh. Sometimes, I move through this world as if I am already a ghost: the now you see me, now you don't kind, you know vs the ones that stay and haunt you forever. Ok, that's just profoundly ridiculous! lol

Here's the naked truth. I actually have a time comprehension problem. What's a year and a half to most people might only be a week for me. Mental illness can be problematic like that. You literally get so lost in the empty moments of time, you can't distinguish between one hour from one minute, from one year to a week, from one second to an hour, etc… I live so moment to moment that the moments add up to a year in a half, for instance, before I realize how much time has passed. Stress does me in too. You will not believe what happened to me in that year and a half:

I went on FaceBook. Yep, that's right, me the dissociative/schizophrenic writer who can't socialize straight. I have at last count 81 family and friends. I know almost 100% of the friends. But sometimes, you end up with a stranger who just suddenly appears one day on your friend's list, and you're scratching your head wondering how that happened. Other times, friends and family disappear for no reason only to come back two weeks later. It's a crazy FB world out there. I guess that's where most of my posts on daily life went. Sucked the blog right out of me, because I don't post often there, although I'm doing better, as in getting a little more comfortable speaking my mind, acknowledging family and friends etc….

Stressful, but I am slowly navigating that world and my boat is floating, even if the motor doesn't run. lol

I have been adding on to Bath Follies, and to Mamie and her ditzy family. And I'm writing a screenplay. But that's about it. Because I decided to take my house apart to see how it works. Maybe, I'll have some pics for you. Soooo, one novel in 10 years you say. Seems like only yesterday, doesn't it? That book still sells though. Don't ask me how. Outside of one FB post to my family a few months ago, and then only because I wanted certain family members to know that I had dedicated it to my precious cousin around her anniversary, that's been it. Occasionally, I get emails saying how much someone loved it, and that's nice, but I'm just thrilled I finally accomplished something in my life. So, I really think I wrote it for me, and I'm real happy with that.

Toodles! Till next year. Or not. I may, just may have another episode of Bath Follies for ya. My Christmas present to the loyal readers of my blog who never abandoned me like I abandoned them, unintentional though it was, so help me Mamie!