Rolling My Eyes

Everywhere. Everyday, this being her tenth. It was all she saw, darkened skies, like rainy days. Rock and rubble. Wood. Long and thick laying across the streets, smashing into windows. Glass turned grey, even the green. You could glimpse into people's lives where the buildings had only half fallen. The only life was the soot and the dead leaves rolling with the winds. Dry. Dead and loud. She barely noticed the smell anymore. Just when new ones hit and only for a little while. She was the runner. The two men who had once been there had now been gone for weeks. She had volunteered, because she was the eldest of the young left and it was to be expected. And because she needed to get out. She needed to see it. More than just across the road. And so she got to see it. She was horrified with herself because she had expected more, back on that first day. It was bad. Her eyes had seen that. But her imagination had seen worse. And she would enjoy her runs. The feel of fresh air on her face....

July Momma ran her hands through her hair. Always uncombed. Always a mess. Her skin looked dry today, hanging on her bones. The living room window was open. It was so hot. No one wanted to wear clothes. Tommy sat on the couch in his blue underwear, his brown skin dirty looking. His toes definitely dirty. The Statler Brothers played from the radio. All Tommy wanted to do was watch TV. Momma would probably let him. Except Momma had been staring at the wall for a real long time and it scared him. So Tommy just sat there, staring at his mother. Sissy started to stir in her room, soft, low. I am awake cries. She suddenly opened her bedroom door, diapered in a green shirt, rubbing her eyes. She plopped on the floor just outside the door and did not move. Momma looked up at Tommy, suddenly aware. Her eyes were un-readable. "Your Father has not sent the money," she whispered. Her eyes were suddenly bright, shimmering, luminous. He watched as a lone tear coarsed through h...

Grade Six Kelli always had perfect nails. They were always filed beautifully. They were red more than pink. Kelli did her nails herself. Her room was wallpapered with flowers. Part of her ceiling was slanted. There were the horses, the dollhouse and the stuffies covering the entire bed. Kelli was a girl. Kelli had lots of make-up. Mid September We sit in her backyard with her gigantic purple, plastic case of make-up. We have it open, peering inside. "Well," she says. "Well," I say. "What are we going to be today?" "Depends on if we are doing a play or music video or something..." I trail off. "Yeah," she sighs. We sit in silence. We had not seen each other all summer. "Betcha I could make you look like you got punched in the face," I say to her. "Cool," she replies. "I think I know the colours." I am not sure which one of us came up with the plan. Testing Limits We pee...

I love the stairwell of the place I go Everyday. Concrete walls painted an off-white. Just stone slab steps painted over and over. Any sound you make echoes. The stairwell of the place I go Everyday is usually empty. There is an elevator in the building. I walk up six flights of stairs in an almost-always empty stairwell. Sometimes I am Rocky. Sometimes I am Marilyn Monroe. Once, I was Courney Love. I pass by three large metal doors along my way up. There are offices behind these large metal doors; with reception areas and people waiting, people working. When I am wearing my loudest shoes, sometimes I will stop on the landing, then do a happy little jig. You never know who is on the other side of the door just waiting to smile. Your Topic: Random Acts of Kindness when you are sharing the stairwell with another person.

I Have Written 1. On paper.  2. Lines on a blackboard. 3. On windows. 4. Run-away letters. 5. In the sand. 6. Perfect tests. 7. On Post-Its. 8. In Baby Books. 9. On a calendar. 10. The alphabet.  11. With lipstick. 12. Advice. 13. For Your Eyes Only letters. 14. In a car. 15. Songs with Rob. 16. My Mother's name on absent notes. 17. When I was bored. 18. In a Slam-Book. 19. Only one break-up letter. 20. Sitting on a snowy hill. 21. My own version of In Flanders Fields.  How disrespectful. 22. About a unicorn. 23. My first published poem in Grade Three. 24. Answers to other's scribbles in bathroom stalls. 25. In telephone books. 26. A novella on a one night notice. 27. Red. 28. A cheque only three times.  Cheques might teach me responsibility.  But I kinda like my cash only attitude. 29. Harlequin. 30. In my first journal.  It had The Smurfs on it. 31. Mock love letters with Ian. 32. On a pair of shoes. 33. In all CAPITALS. 34....

April His bedroom light is on every night when he goes to sleep. His room is a harsh yellow. The light bulb works against the colour. Tommy's bedroom window is large and it makes up for it. He woke up and felt the tears, felt his red face, felt the screams that no longer ripped at his throat. He sat on his knees on his bed, his blankets a mess. His pillow on the floor. His eyes are on Momma. She stood, staring into the sea-green circle mirror on the wall, her curls a mess that said slept on. She was applying red lipstick, perfect and puckered. She wore a black t-shirt. She licked her teeth and she was more hideous than his dream. She turned to look at him and smiled. "That was a bad one, hey Tom-Tom?" she asks. "I just can do nothing for you when you are screaming like that. So here I am getting all pretty waiting for you to wake-up." She reached out for him and pushed him gently back on to the bed. She grabbed his pillow from the floor and lifted his head...

...What a good meal.  A sunny day supper on a gray-skied day.  How fabulous... ...Brushing my hair at the kitchen table is my equivalent to a man scratching his balls... ...I am glad Cindy is spending the night... ...Apples...

She stands on the concrete sidewalk, a hand on the navy blue stroller belonging to a child who is not hers. The jewel of her Grandmother's ring is dirty, dulled. An aquamarine gone colourless. She looks in at the baby and stares at the blue of the Maple Leafs logo pressed on to his t-shirt. The light blue of his summer pants. She looks over to her son, wearing the colour from his hat to the new shoes she had bought him last week. It was not her who had dressed him today. She looks up, the sky the hue of freshly-drawn bathwater. The heat of the day lies heavy upon her skin. She is wearing all blue, too. Her choice thrown in the washer the night before at 1 a.m., tossed hastily in the dryer this morning at the last possible moment. Her eyes are not sore, but they ache. She feels their weight and sloppiness on her face. She has always been good at not giving in. She was born with strength. But some battles are not meant to be won. She had wrapped herself in her blue b...

10 Years Old I am sitting in my Grandmother's backyard.  I can feel the wind race through me, but it is a hot day and the wind had been warmed by it.  I am sitting in a lawn chair.  Yellow, ribbed through aluminum. The sky is blue and a few puffy white clouds race through it smooth.  I am facing the sun, it's rays are not burning, but I still have to squint to read my Archie comic book.  I am listening to Bon Jovi on my black and red walkman. I look up and into the large backyard, watching the grass just starting to turn yellow, dance with the wind and the long blows she is offering us today. I look around.  The colour of the sky does not make sense with the wind.  I have never been to a day like this yet. I feel the wind and her power and I feel like she is running into and through me, leaving some of herself behind in me.  I feel power that is not mine. But I pretend the wind has chosen me.  I am ten years ...

I came home tonight, later then when I usually do. It was dark. I floundered around my house for a bit, doing mindless things. Mindless things can be a lot of work. It is 1:00 a.m. So, of course, I decide I deserve a bath. It is a pretty good thing I took that bath. My horror could have sent me over the edge had I not. I open my bedroom door. Flying Things. Everywhere. And oh my god. One of those dark black Things. Those big Things. Those evil Things. It was The Drunk Thing. The Drunk Thing made me once... ...sit on the porch with my daughter, 8 months old, at midnight for an hour... I lost my keys a few days ago. I had to break-in to my house. It could have never been done without my daughter. She has been my hero for days. The screen came off my bedroom window for this break-in. I have not got around to putting it back on. The first night, I slept with my window closed. The second night, I opted for the couch. The third night, it was 3:30 a.m. and I was all not scared...

Sacrificing to the Gods Minnie was 14.  She liked bright red lipstick and getting high. There was a handsome boy, hair cropped close to his head, with a genuine smile who lived in the apartment building at the end of her street.  He was 22. He was a drug-dealer. She waited one day at dusk.  She knew she would not have to wait long. He came out the doors. "Hey," she pointed at him. "What are you doing?" he looked at her, confused. She dropped her hand and barely smiled. "Waiting for you.  You are going to help me out." She would knock on his door after that only in the morning, before his girlfriend got up.  Before the other buyers would see her. It was the only reason he continued to sell to her. "What is your name?" he asked one day. "I do not know yours," she replied.  "I like it that way." Minnie had to get home, she barely had enough time to grab some chips and pop for her night from the v...

1. Read one of my lists? 2. Rolled your eyes? 3. Chewed the inside of your mouth?  4. Read a newspaper? 5. Burnt supper? 6. Bought a hat? 7. Sat in the grass? 8. Talked to the most annoying person you know? 9. Danced? 10. Jumped in a puddle? 11. Didn't do the dishes? 12. Drank Root Beer? 13. Saw a horse? 14. Swung on a pole? 15. Swore? 16. Gave something away? 17. Listened to The Beach Boys? 18. Bought The 4 Pieces Toaster!!!???  I am still thinking about it. 19. Went on a ride at the fair? 20. Used tape? 21. Looked at your elbow? 22. Bought flowers? 23. Watched a John Travolta movie? 24. Went out for supper? 25. Found the perfect cure? 26. Spoke out of turn? 27. Received a package in the mail? 28. Wanted to throw your arms in the air? 29. Bought something used? 30. Sucked on a mint? 31. Walked anywhere? 32. Dusted your house? 33. Played hopscotch? 34. Did your favorite party trick? 35. Fed a squirrel? 36. Hung your clothes outside to dry? 37. Were in a plane?...

I once had A Toaster.  Silver and black, the kind from my childhood.  It had a sticker with different levels of orange on one of it's sides.  It only had one setting left.  Perfect. Little golden pieces of heaven would pop out of that baby.  But it got increasingly ugly.  I hid it away from people's stares.  It became annoying to pull it out and put it away all the time. I stopped enjoying toast. I bought a New Toaster and threw away my old one.  The new one was 40 years old, metal.  Vintage.  Cool.  Everyone said so. The New Toaster hated me. It made horrible toast. Only if I made it or it was meant for me.  Burnt along one whole side, half of it!  Perfect along the other side. Every time. But I missed toast, so I ate toast until I got sick of toast.  The New Toaster still looked cool.  Until I was always washing it down...

Wal-Mart makes me smile. There really is something I want in every aisle. I never leave without buying myself something. My favorite shampoo, I can only find there. So, without a doubt, when Jean asked yesterday if I would like to go with her to the most fabulous store in the world, I agreed. Even if I had to bring the two kids in tow. Jean is a shopaholic. Jean gets everything she wants. Jean knows where the deals are. Jean is patient. Jean has a sixth sense. And I love Wal-Mart. I match her wits there. My son also needed a new pair of running shoes, his last suddenly passed worn. I had been forcing him to wear sandals for a week. Wal-Mart is great for shoes. And these do not have to be great shoes, to boot. School starts back up in a month. But Someone smiles on me, because there is a SHOE SALE!! And I get to thinking, my daughter needs a new pair of cute sneakers, too. She is a girl, afterall. I tell the kids to have a look around. Mostly so I can, too. Even though I...

She could not believe she was standing here. A movie scene. It took her breath away, the water so close to the grass and the woods. The grains of sand beneath her feet making her toes curl. The moon was full, big and high. The coolness in the breeze was just enough to make the waves more audible then usual as they lapped at the shore. She wished she was wearing white. She had scoffed at those who said the beach was romantic. He spread out the blanket. "So much for the stars tonight. They tell a beautiful story," he called out to her. She turned to him and smiled. He was just more appealing than the scene before her. She walked, dragging her feet through the cool sand, to him and the blanket. She jumped to her feet suddenly, startling him, the blanket sliding beneath her feet. "How spooky do you think that little forest of trees are right now?" She took off before he could answer, running towards them. She stepped behind a tree. Engulfed in darkness, lik...

July Minnie was 14. She liked bright red lipstick and getting high. Tommy liked getting high, too. It was a sunny Sunday afternoon. It was the end of the weekend and they were poor. They had walked all around the downtown and had even played teen-aged hide and seek at the public library. Stolen, secret kisses. Tommy flipped the hair out of his eyes, looking into hers. "Billy-Boy? Oh, do we have to go there?" She rolled her eyes and sighed. "If you want to get high." Tommy sighed, too. "Fine, nothing better than a day spent with..." "Like I ever actually hang out with him. I will get us out of there quick, silly," Minnie interjected. Billy-Boy's Mom was fat and stinking when she came to the door in her burnt yellow gown.  The tiny pink flowers enhanced her girth.  She had her brassy orange curls up in a purple hairclip. She clapped her fat hands together once and smiled her brown grin. She shouted back into the little g...

Four and A Half Years Old   Tommy looked out the window at the darkening grayness of the day.   He was glad it was not a damp night. He would have to work fast with Sissy if he was going to get her to sleep.  He hoped he could pull it off.  Staying up all night with a two year old was not easy.  He would be clumsy with her by morning, if he did not sleep enough. He looked over at her, finger in mouth, watching the TV.  Wheel of Fortune.  He liked it, too. But he went over and shut it off. "Come on, Sissy," he put out his hand.  "You need a clean-up." She pulled her finger out of her mouth, whiter than her other fingers and took his hand.  Tommy was all hers, as far as she was concerned. He took the orange washcloth to her face, warm and gentle.  She never fought. "Do you want to sleep in bed with me tonight, Sissy?" he asked brightly. She clapped her hands, eyes alive.  "O.K.!" Then she stopped. She frowned. "Bed...

1. Thank you, Mom, for everything. 2. Thank you, Dad, for pointing out the chipmunk. 3. Thank you, Jean.  Wait until you see your new house. 4. Thank you, Grandma, for pretending to like Metallica. 5. Thank you, Grandpa, for the box.  I think you knew... 6. Thank you, Mikey, for Hound Dog on the guitar.  Before you smashed it over my head.  Brothers are jerks. 7. Thank you, Pappy, for the change. 8. Thank you, Brenda, for always coming at the right time. 9. Thank you, Jenny, for the card 3 months late.  It is still my favorite one. 10. Thank you, Mrs. Houting, for the poster in your Grade Two classroom with the word empathy on it.  Thank you more for never pointing it out.  11.  Thank you, Michelle, for playing road hockey with me. 12. Thank you, Scott, for friendship before we even knew.  Wow, man.  We could make a movie.  Love you, Big Bro. 13. Thank you, Carrie, for being such a girl. 14. Thank you, my friend in Iowa, for day or ...

Back to July   Cleaning my house today is not fun.  I am finding things I have not seen in awhile and it is surprising me.  Like little hand prints.  On lots of things.  Crumbs under my couch.  Dirt.  I see dirt. Two weeks vacation.  I have forgotten how to clean again. It is a good thing to have a Day Off so close to my vacation.  I have catching up to do.   I am glad when everything messes up horribly for Cindy's move.  The Movers just cannot make it until dark.  So, instead of mini-helper mover I get to just be Aunt Beth, the baby-sitter. But I feel bad for being happy I do not have to help her lift heavy things, so I tell her to get lost.  To go do something fun until it is time to move. "For real?" she says. "Yeah," I say. "I am so outta here," she jumps up and down.  "Thanks, Beth!" If I was not sick of listening to her whining, I would have made her stay.   Two weeks o...

Downtown Mark   It is March.  The last Friday of the month.  Which is always My Day Off.  My babysitter and I pretend we do not realize this.   A 50 year old man leans over towards me, on the bus.  "What are you writing?" he asks. "Just my journal," I reply. "What about?" I look up at him.  "Where I would be going if I was wearing something different." He nods.  "Where are you going?" "Dowtown.  That much I know for sure.   I will figure the rest out when I get there." "I am going downtown, too.  Got a few things to pick up.  My books.  And my picture is finally ready." "Oh, I was just at City Lights not too long ago," I smile. "I love that place.  But that is not where I am going." He tilts his head and looks in my eyes. "You want to come with me?" "You bet," I smile.   "This way," he says, pointing down the street when we get off th...

Cindy spent the night last night.  She is moving today.  Her old house is closer to my house than her new house. She has to start at the old house.   She spent the night here. I like when Cindy and I have a sleep-over.  She does not care if we talk and laugh all night or if I simply ignore her to concentrate on my multitudes of writing.  This is fabulous.  But what is even better, Cindy will let me sleep until the last possible moment when she spends the night.  An extra hour of sleep can leave a shit-eating grin on your face all day long. Except, I had to be up really early on My Day Off. Because I had to make a brief hour long appearance where I normally go Everyday.  Not fun.  But still, an hour for the whole rest of the day?!  So, worth it. Except, remember how I said Cindy is moving today?  Yeah, that's right.  I knew I had the day off before she knew when she was moving.  I still opened my Big ...

C.E. reminds me of my hometown every time I visit her site.  Thank you for more than that.   Most people read the other blog.  I read this one.  cbeck your talent amazes me.   I wish it was Me who wrote this.  Every post makes you grin.   You should all know Varinbird by now.  If not, here is your chance.   The Author.   For sure.     Just Plain Weird     There are no words.   Just read it.   ACK!  They are everywhere!   WTF?!?