Oct 31, 2006
“Ha ha, really funny. Did you think that was going to scare me or something?”
“Dude I wouldn’t sh*t you about this – there is a BRRAINNN in your driveway! Come and look at it”
“Alright, let me get my shoes on.”
“What is that?”
“It’s a brain, I told you! Is someone mad enough at you to throw a fetal pig brain in your driveway? Or maybe it’s from a dead raccoon.”
“What? You think someone cut the brain out of a dead raccoon and threw it in my driveway? ... No, it wouldn’t be big enough. That brain came from something bigger.”
“If it’s fresh shouldn’t it be bloody?”
“It rained like crazy this morning; it would’ve washed it clean so there’s no way to know.”
“Dude! See – it is a brain isn’t it! How did you get a brain in your driveway?”
“That can’t be what it is, let’s look at it closer. Get a stick”
“I’m not going to poke it with a stick! Gross! ”
“That’s ok, I found one, I’ll poke it.”
“Dude, don’t lean so close! What if it…”
“What jumps onto my head and bites me? Yeah right, in the middle of the day in my driveway a human brain gets loose and bites me on the neck.”
“Where would someone get a human brain?... Maybe we should call the police?”
“Hell na! Do you remember the scarecrow incident?! Let’s poke it first”
“I think I’m going to puke”
“The stick poked right into it and brain juice came out.”
“Siiiick. Don't poke it anymore!”
“How in the F* did I get a brain in my driveway? What do we do with it?”
“Well, you can’t just put it in Tuesday’s trash.”
“Let’s ask my mom, she’s going to be home pretty soon”
“We have to wait for her or she’ll run it over with her car.”
“Mom! Stop the car! Don’t pull in you gotta see this!”
“Why are you kids standing around the rice cake I dropped this morning? My, oh- my, those really swell up when they get rained on…”
Go see what we were for Halloween at TaterTot's Thoughts today.
Oct 30, 2006
“What do you mean you saw someone in the ditch?! Like waiting to jump out?”
“No, I mean I saw someone lying in the ditch, like it looked like their leg was all twisted up. Oh. My. God. Someone just got hit by a car and their lying in the ditch! You have to go around the block!”
The car circles the block while five teenage girls search out the window in silence.
“OhmyGod! Someone IS in the ditch!”
“Oh their leg looks bent at a BAD angle, that’s not good.”
“Ohmygod,Ohmygod,Ohmygod,Ohmygod, what do I do? Should we stop?”
“Yeah, let’s stop and see if their ok…”
“What if it’s a prank and someone jumps out at us?”
“OhmyGod, OhmyGod what if their DEAD?!”
“AAAAAH! Don’t stop! Let’s go back to my house and call 911!”
“Ug Ick Groooooosse!”
“Ok, let’s go back to your house and tell your mom and call 911”
After much frantic yelling and one concerned call to 911 the girls get back in the car and drive up the street to see what the police find. The street is filled with at least three police cars and as they pull up to the crime scene a police officer walks up to their window. Karla rolls it down and they all lean over to hear what's happening.
“Are you the girls that called this in?”
“Yes sir. Is it bad?”
“You know you girls can get into a lot of trouble for this.”
“OhmyGod Officer we didn’t hit anyone! Are they dead?!”
“We’re going to jail! They think we killed someone!”
“Oh No ~whimper~”
"I swear we didn't hit anyone! I can't go to jail! OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod"
"Listen ladies, we don’t like false reports and you girls probably think it's pretty funny but it costs the taxpayers alot of money when somone pulls a stunt like this, do you understand?"
"Karla, it's a scarecrow... look over there, he's holding it up... it's a scarecrow!"
"We'll let you off this time, but don't you girls go pulling anything like this again ok?"
Oct 28, 2006
When you’re a kid and creepy things hit the news where you live you file them away under ‘Proof of the Supernatural’ in your brain and you only open that file once in a while when your sitting around a campfire with close friends or blogging for Halloween. When I was young I filled my file cabinet with stories from the occult. This was during the time of the PMRC and the kid who killed himself after listening to Judas Priest, heavy metal hair bands wore pentagrams on their belt buckles and parents everywhere were ‘concerned’ that Twisted Sister was twisting our sisters.
At the all night skates inevitably we would end up huddled up in our sleeping bags in the middle of the skating rink hearing stories that “I swear to God are true, it happened to my sister’s boyfriend’s cousin…” Around this time, the local news broke a story too gruesome to ignore. A senior at a local high school killed his best friend in some sort of ritualistic occult-like slaughter. If I remember correctly he beheaded him and then hid the body and head under his bed. His dad found the body, upon which the son killed his father and shortly after committed suicide. We talked about it for months around campfires, at parties and at the skating rink surmising the motive and circumstances regarding the deaths, and wondered at the connections to rumors about ritualistic animal killings at a local and close state park or Witch Beulah, or Bloods Point Cemetery. Over the years it all kind of faded away into the microfesh of the brain.
It turns out a house like that is hard to sell after such an incident, they tend to go pretty cheap if at all because they have to disclose the murder. Everyone knew the house and the story and so it went until years later long after we had all stopped talking and people quit driving by a divorced mother of three boys moved to the area to be closer to the son that lived with his Dad. The realtor informed her people died in the house but she didn’t seem to mind. It was cute and cheap so she bought it. Soon she and her youngest son started to hear things in the middle of the night: bumps, pounding, stomping across floors and slamming doors. Her boyfriend, a retired police officer moved in and he installed locks and motion activated lights and soon no body was getting any sleep.
Amidst all the uproar happening in the night the woman’s middle son Brian asked to move in with her – it seemed he was uncomfortable sleeping at his Father’s house, something about rumors or whispers in the middle of the night. Yes, you read that right, Brian’s mother was the woman that bought the house. Poor guy couldn’t get away from it. While he was having problems at his Dad’s house with creepy whisperings and glowing green orbs, across the river over at his mother’s house his little brother was waking up to doors slamming and stomping through the halls. Twice his mother’s boyfriend called the police about the stomping and pounding but when the police could find no one and no point of entry they stopped reporting it.
While there, his little brother had a freak accident with a jungle-gym of all harmless things. He was hanging by his arms when the pipe broke and fell on his face, half his skull crushed inward breaking his eye socket and check bone. He underwent reconstructive surgeries and was never quite the happy silly kid I remembered. The family was mired in bad luck while they lived in those houses; divorces, car accidents, quarrels, miscarriages, dead pets, and in general restlessness and ire. Of course all of those things happen in day to day living especially when with teenagers in the house but it felt excessive for such a normal bunch of people to endure.
Please pardon Blogger is having trouble today
Oct 27, 2006
Every Christmas Brian’s parents would go to the Bahamas and leave him and his three sisters home in the big house alone. The Bahamas are cheap over Christmas and they figured the kids were old enough that they wouldn’t mind celebrating in January instead. It made me a little sad for them and I think it made them a little sad too because in retaliation every Christmas they would throw a giant party while their parents were gone. Two full high schools would attend Harlem and Auburn. One year it was so big the police stopped to see what was happening and when we told them it was a wedding reception they helped us direct traffic a little so we could park more cars. Technically it wasn’t a lie, Troy and his girlfriend had gotten married at the court house earlier that day and we had bought a cake but most of the attendees had no idea of the nuptials they were just in attendance to “par-tay”.
After the party there would always be some stragglers who wouldn’t leave. Brian would tell them about the house giving them the full tour. He’d always start with the history and how the boyfriend flipped out and tied up the entire family and beat them to death and then shot them for good measure. He’d move on to how the crazed murderer boyfriend went on living in the back woods hiding out from the police until he ran out of cocaine and committed suicide. Then he would wrap it up standing in the great room where he would point dramatically upwards towards the blood spatters that had sunk deep into the wood ceiling.
Brian’s parents were so cheap that when they discovered the blood on the ceiling in the great room instead of replacing the wood beams they sprayed a little Windex on it and resigned themselves to not talk abut the stains. Well, you can’t give a seventeen year old boy with a preoccupation for gross a better exhibit. Inevitably whenever Brian would end the tour with the grand sweep of his arm pointing upward the remaining party guests would make hasty goodbyes. The night of Troy’s reception went down just like that. Brian had chased the unknowns out of the house with the grizzly tour leaving Troy, Troy’s new wife, John, Shawn, Brian and myself sitting around the kitchen table playing cards and drinking beer.
I sat at the head of the table with the door to the great room on my right and the rest of the kitchen and the door to the basement to my left. As I dealt another hand of Five Card, I heard whispers float around me calling my name over and over “Jenny, jennY, jeNNy, jeNNY, JEnny, jenny, Jenny!” They seemed to start on my right and float right behind me and then end in my left ear. I must’ve looked quite startled because Shawn looked right at me and said
“Did you hear that too?”
My reply was “What! What did YOU hear?”
What he said made my eyes water
“I heard someone calling my name in a whisper like ‘ShawN, SHAWn, shawn, shaWN, SHhhawn, ShAWN!’ right there in the great room and then towards the basement door”.
The rest of the table busted up laughing. Really hard. At us. Shawn got mad and threw his cards down while I changed chairs. John stood up and checked the fridge for more beer, I tensed up as he walked towards the whisper but felt a little relieved someone was going to make sure there wasn’t one last unknown party-goer messing with us. When John went to the basement to retrieve more beer from the bar, I felt a little scarred for him and said
“Shouldn’t someone go with him?” only to be met with more laughter.
All I could think was "This is how the movie starts!" Moments later John was standing at the top of the stars having run back up them three at a time. His face and lips white as can be, all the blood must've gone to his legs to get him up the stairs that fast. Without a word he walked straight out onto the front porch and got his keys out of his pocket before we could discern what happened was this:
He went to the rec room and walked around the pool table towards the bar to get an armload of beer. Before he leaned down to open the mini-fridge he caught a glimpse of the mirror behind the bar and the reflection of a drunk guy standing behind him. John turned around to tell the guy the party was over to find an empty room behind him. He didn’t wait to take a second look in the mirror he just flew up the stairs back towards the sound of our voices. No one laughed at him, he looked too shaky to be laughed at. Someone said “maybe we should go check out the basement”. No body did and those that stayed slept in the great room together that night.
“The Tour” was rarely given after that night and we all felt a little bad for Brian living in that house. We continued to share stories about the whispers we heard in the house and when Brian’s puppy died in a mysterious freak accident involving a plastic bag when nobody was home, we started to suggest he move in with his mom. His mother lived across the river in an equally creepy house but that story is for another day.
Oct 26, 2006
Oct 25, 2006
This year I won’t be able to sit in a pumpkin patch and wait for you I have to take my daughter trick or treating, but should you roll past my house and decide I have the best looking jack-o-lanterns please leave me a dozen roses, a box of chocolates, a dishwasher, some new head phones, cute fuzzy knee-high boots, a Beastie Boys CD (“Check Your Head”), a new garbage disposal, some warm socks, toe guards for my skates, a giant planter for my Dracaena-Fragrans and a new pair of jeans that make my butt look great.
Oct 24, 2006
I was on my second month getting the office turned around and had grown pretty comfortable working there. On this particular Friday I was experiencing what I thought was the same old pain I always had when my ovarian cysts acted up. I’d had them for years in fact they once almost took my appendix out because of my pain. Frequent trips to the emergency room in the middle of the night often resulted in being sent home with Tylenol and a heating pad so most times I'd opt to forgo the emergency room co-pay and instead writh around on the floor of my own bathroom for a couple of hours instead.
I decided that when my shift was over I would just spend the weekend in the city instead of the long drive home. Dan was in Baltimore for the weekend and Dave (our neighbor) would take care up the pups and so there was no reason I couldn’t just go lay down at my hotel and sleep through the pain in my side. While waiting for the end of the shift the hours seemed to drag by and the employees kept asking if I was ok and telling me I didn’t look so good. Finally one young man, Joe K. said “That’s it Jenny I’m taking you to the hospital”. I refused and told him I was going to just go lay down at my hotel and he said “No way let’s go”. I could barely stand up. He and Joe M. carried me to his car.
This was all very fitting for the young rebel Joe K. was only 17 and often in trouble at work for not listening or showing up late. I’d thought about firing him but damn if he wasn’t a charming salesman and always making quota. He put me in the front seat and started his powder blue ’67 Chevy; I curled up into a ball with my sweaty head near his leg. He kept sweeping my soaked hair off of my face and asking “Are you sure you’re doing ok?” and for the first half of the ride I was annoyed with his questioning and the second half I was screaming for him to drive faster. When we reached the emergency room he intended to park his powder blue baby but instead slid up to the outside the doors leaving the car idiling keys in it with the passenger side open while he ran in and yelled for someone to come and help. I was drenched in sweat and shaking – my appendix was inflamed and ready to kill me.
Good ol’ Joe paced the hall until my Mom drove in and sent him home. He sent flowers and a little stuffed leopard to the hospital. Poor Dan was greeted on Sunday at O’Hare airport by my Mom and the harrowing story. Shortly after that I quit my job to find something closer to home and family. The tree in my side yard is still gone like my appendix and today I wonder what Joe is doing.
Oct 23, 2006
Oct 21, 2006
Oct 20, 2006
The video is of the Gotham Girls Roller Derby in NY (It’s how I got this to post this morning as Blogger was having problems)
The Rockford Rage is having a fund raiser tonight at a bar called Kryptonite. It’ll be eight bands for $5.00 in case you’re thinking of coming. The team will be there working the door and hanging about looking cool. I will be there looking extremely uncomfortable. I am agonizing over what to wear. We were told “Dress Derby” and for me that means camo-pants, comfy socks and a t-shirt I don’t mind sweating in. Somehow I’m sure that’s not what they mean. I do have some stripey socks and a blue jean mini skirt but I think I’ll have to park a block away and walk through downtown to get there - eek. I could change in the bathroom of the bar, or I could wear nice jeans and my “Derby Girl” tank. I can’t wait until there are uniforms and then the agony of “Dressing Derby” will be gone. Whatever I wear should match with the orange ear plugs I’ll have in my ears (I’m so old).
Oct 19, 2006
It didn’t help that he loved this game. Upon opening the door he’d shoot outside like a bullet straight over to the side yard checking for Mrs. Wertz or any family member that might smell like her. The incessant barking would commence until I called him in and if any of the unfortunate neighbors were attempting to enjoy their back yard I would have to walk out into the yard, pick him up bring him back in. She never kicked the fence when I was standing there but sometimes I’d be around the corner watering the garden and I’d hear the chain link rattle all at once because she’d kicked it and I’d fantasize about running around the corner with the hose.
Well since then we had Ella and decided to give little Alijandro to a family with more time to spend with him. He loved to be in your lap which I wouldn’t allow with a fresh faced newborn in my lap. So things have gotten significantly quieter between the neighbors and us. I just can’t help it though every time our remaining dog Wednesday rolls in something gross in our back yard I wonder what Mrs. Wertz threw out there. I know it’s the epitome of paranoid, but I once saw her son throw a brick at my Chihuahua and wouldn’t it be funny to throw a piece of limburger in your neighbor’s back yard so their dog rolled in it and then went in the house and played with the kids and rolled on the couch before your neighbor figured out what that smell was and gave everyone a bath and washed the couch? Yeah – that’d be freaking funny as hell.
Oct 18, 2006
Oct 17, 2006
“I thought you had directions?!”
to which the navigator says “I do, it doesn’t say that the road ends here it just says ‘veer onto Wadsworth Blvd.’!!”
“Do I veer right or left to get to Wadsworth Blvd.?”
“Um – it doesn’t say, I’m going to guess left…. Crap it’s right, we need to head West you’d better whip a u-ie”
“I’ve never whipped a u-ie in my life, is that even legal?”
“Sure, if it weren’t legal they’d post it.”
(first u-ie whipped.)
After 45 minutes, three more u-ies and a clover leaf we finally made it to the wedding. The chapel at Red Rock was gorgeous as was the wedding. It was a picture perfect afternoon for all except my dear cousin’s daughter - poor child. Willow is Ella’s age and upon laying eyes on her she reminded me of Ella so that I wanted to scoop her up and kiss all over her face. Alas she was shy and wanted to hang onto her Mommy’s leg (just like Ella might’ve) and so I waited and bided my time before attempting a scoop. In the interim she stepped on a cactus - ouch. Her Mom and Dad extracted all the needles from her little foot just in time for the start of the ceremony.
I could hardly wait to see my Uncles new wife. I, my Mother, and Aunt C. would be seeing her for the first time as she walked down the aisle and my Aunt M. would be seeing her for only the second time ever so it was all very exciting. The woman playing piano began to sing “Ave Maria” and we Italian Catholics/former Catholics and children of were all brought to tears. It seems this song is played at any important family event taking place at a church.
The little church was packed tight and about half way through the ceremony I heard little Willow let out a terrible wail from outside. It seems she was a little antsy (as two year old sometimes get) and her Mom took her outside to run around until the wedding concluded when she took a spill and cracked her head open spilling blood all down her darling little pink party dress. She took three stitches and a big Dora band aid at the hospital later, so I never did get to know her well enough to scoop her up and kiss her all over her face. I plan to go back and visit my dear cousins and next time I’ll bring my family so we can let the girls play tea party and babies and perhaps then I can attempt a snuggle.
We drove to Golden next, about a half an hour and two u-ies away from Morrison (were the wedding was) were we proceeded with all the wonderful traditions that go with a wedding – food and wine, balloons and cake and dancing. Perhaps the funniest thing that happened all weekend came at the tail end of this reception. We were all standing outside waiting to make a wish and let dozens of balloons go up into the atmosphere in honor of the newly wedded couple when my dear cousin A. said “oh look it’s snowing” and hastily stuck her tongue out to catch dainty flakes wafting about before realizing they were actually a swarm of tiny gnats and when I saw the brother of the bride do the same not 10 feet away from me I really thought I would pee my pants laughing. I tried to take a picture of the giant gnat cloud but it just didn’t work. (Sorry A. I just couldn’t resist telling that story)
The rest of the weekend was spent shopping, hearing music, drinking and dining with relatives (and perhaps a dozen more u-ies) before we made our way back to IL on Sunday evening where Ella and Dan had a grand time buying toys, eating cookies and watching movies all weekend. I did get the chance to have lunch with Willow before I left and she was much happier than the day before as you can imagine. I can hardly wait to get back there.
Oct 16, 2006
Oct 14, 2006
Happy Birthday to my brother Andy!
Oct 13, 2006
Oct 12, 2006
Me: Why does that plane have a banner on it?
Him: It makes him squadron leader.
Me: And that means… what?
Him: He flies in the front and makes the decisions about where to go, he leads them. Incidentally, it also tells the German’s who to take down first.
Me: Oh, so he’s like the pivot.
Me: So with all that shooting, that reminds me one of our Derby girls once got shot. I heard she was on the job when it happened... (endless rambling about how tough we are)
Husband on the other end of the phone 30 miles away: I have your keys
Me: What do you want to do… drive back?
Husband: Borrow your Mom’s car and then we can switch around tomorrow
Me: Ok, but I have practice. I better not miss practice. I'll get my gear and bring it home in Mom's car just in case.
Husband: Good idea, don’t forget Ella too.
Oct 11, 2006
Oct 10, 2006
Oct 9, 2006
Oct 7, 2006
Oct 6, 2006
The search for the perfect award winning witty costume has begun. Though we have something in mind, suggestions are most welcomed.
*No I am not posting it - it's lewd.
Oct 5, 2006
Oct 4, 2006
Oct 3, 2006
Me: Oh? What are you reading?
Mr. B.: No, I mean it's literally heavy. It's like ten pounds.
What am I currently reading? Uncle Tom's Cabin, Flowers for Algernon, Mirror Mirror, and Son of a Witch are all in cue but currently I'm reading this week's People Magazine (not very heavy).
I am also however reading The Calm Before the Storm. Milo Freeman's live account of being a soldier in Iraq. Milo is a wonderful writer and if you have the inclination to add a new blog to your roll I highly suggest Milo's. This is also a perfect time to start reading, as Chapter II The Sand has just begun. Once you're hooked you can track back through Milo's prose interspersed with poignant verse for months as he's kept this blog since March 2006.
Keep safe, Milo and write often we'll be anticipating each entry until you are home.
"Monday, October 02, 2006
From the air at night, Kuwait City looks like a carpet of topaz against the black veil of the Persian Gulf. Looking closely, one can see palm trees lining every street and highway, and with office towers spearing the nighttime horizon with their light, it's clear to see that this is a bustling city, home to many successful people
The first thing that most people talk about when describing the Middle East is the heat. Descriptions fail it. The air descends on a person like a heavy blanket, from the moment one steps off of the tarmac. The wind smells like scorched figs. From Kuwait City into the outlying areas, the terrain is primarily sagebrush and low ficus, but a few hours west and the terrain quickly shifts to barren desert hardpan. I've never been in the desert before, and so the sheer quantity of NOTHING strikes me mute.
I've been in Kuwait for about a week..."