Work in Progress, Maybe

The problem was never a matter of loving you, of wanting you, of almost everything that surrounded you. It was the combination of it all, of that tangled web of lies, those disastrous spirals that sprang up to swallow us whole that became the problem. Whispered words choked to an early grave in the light that dawn brought with it that craved only to make you understand the ways in which I ached. Ached for your fingers against my bare skin, for the heat of your breath against my neck, for your hands in mine, for the rush that you provided. Justice would never be done by the words that I could whisper, that I could scream in fits of rage and ecstasy, that I could say casually with a smile you once called sly.

These are the flickers of you that I am faced with in the dead of night, when my soul grows restless and my mind has nothing but time to wander. Through the hall, down the stairs to a couch tainted with flashes of times spent together that I simultaneously want to burn to destroy what remains and keep alive as long as possible to stop you from disappearing. Ghostly renditions of our domestic life still haunt the nooks and crannies of this house monthly, weekly, daily, hourly. Jumbled together images that come and go from view, jarring in ways that I cannot fully grasp like the puffs of smoke I exhale on the deck at midnight as I try to detach myself.

Typical Siblings

          "You're going to make us late!" Rose screamed at the top of her lungs as she stood at the foot of the stairs that lead up to the second floor of the esteemed Charleston's guest house.
          Lily rolled her eyes immediately in response without much thought into how the effect was lost without Rose present in her room. "When am I ever on time!?" She shouted back eventually in question as she ran from the warm comforts of the steamed up bathroom to her adjacent peach colored bedroom. The muted sound of her frantic rush through outfit after outfit reaching its way downstairs. "It's not like the others are read either!"
          As Lily spoke Rose stomped her left two inch wedge sandal clad foot against the cherry hardwood flooring at the house's entryway. "They don't take forever and a day to get ready!" She snapped back before taking what was meant to be a deep, calming breath.
          Mint took that golden lull of silence as a sign that he should step out of his first floor bedroom to let out a growl in imitation of a grizzly bear; an act he was growing increasingly well practiced at. The noise of which caused his sister to jump a few feet in the air, at least that's how he would tell the tale later on. "Yelling at her only encourages her to move slower," he noted in a matter of fact tone as he raised his right hand up to scratch at his four day old stubble.
          Rose merely shrugged her shoulders at such nonsense as her rapid heartbeat came down to rest at its normal pace once more. A gesture that was perfectly mocked by Iris as she stood silently behind Rose. An action that caused Mint to explode into a fit of laughter. "Ugh! You two are terrible!" Rose grumbled loudly as she stomped off towards the kitchen, pushing her way past the immaculately dressed Iris without pause.
          "Us, terrible? I wouldn't go so far as to say that," Iris noted aloud with a shrug of her slender, rounded shoulders. "We're more like your average, every day sort of siblings."
          "Which is exactly why we're so terrible," Mint began with a grin. "We're not those creepy angelic sort that she dreams about," he finished up with a short lived chuckle.
          "I wonder if she bothers to factor in that fantasy families all come with bland personalities." Iris mused mostly to herself.
          "Bland? Whose bland now?" Lily inquired as she finally bounded noisily down the curved staircase looking ready to go. "Couldn't be me," she added unnecessarily since a simple glance in her direction would label her as a colorful woman - at least so far as her clothing was concerned.
          "Oh, just Rose's fantasy family," Iris replied nonchalantly as she strode towards the kitchen's entryway. "Come on Ms. Bland, you're putting us off schedule with your huffing and puffing more than our Rainbow Queen."
          "Ugh, I'm coming," Rose snapped as she set an empty glass into the kitchen's stainless steel sink.
          Meanwhile Mint stumbled back into his room to grab his suit jacket, grumbling the whole time. "Why do we have to show up together?"
          "Because as Charleston children we are to set an example for our peers and society as a whole by displaying a face of unity and blah blah blah." Lily replied in near perfect imitation of their mother, the proud and not to be crossed Daisy Charleston. At least that was the persona their mother had adopted after the four of them were born. 
          "Right, because us continuously showing up late to our own family held affairs in a great example for our guests." Mint mumbled to himself as he idly fidgeted with his khaki dress suit. An outfit he was all too familiar with, which was an unfortunate situation if you asked him about it.
          "I blame that on being the product of a reformed hippie," Lily said jokingly, making air quotation marks as she said the word reformed.
          "Regardless of the reason for our united front and tardiness we need to get a move on things to keep it all fashionable," Iris announced as she strolled back into view, daring lime green heels clicking away against the floor. Followed by a now quiet Rose who had her arms crossed over her chest.
          Grumbling in unison Lily and Mint took their well seasoned positions behind their fearless leader. The line a well established way of walking and presenting themselves to the public thanks to countless hours of practice. Only recently was there a change in formation due to Iris's recent surpassing of Mint in height; an occurrence that their mother was quite pleased to see. Iris was, after all, the best at putting on a show for the masses.
          "All hail the amazon," Mint mumbled as Iris took a hold of the brushed nickle door handle, twisting it to open their front door. All four of them silently marched on to the sunlit wrap around porch presently being used as a presentation platform, speaking podium and all. Each of their faces instantly lighting up with smiles as they stepped outside; the politician's mask as their father liked to say after a few too many bourbons on the rocks. An almost worrisome habit if not for the ease at which he denied ever using it himself and the willingness of the masses to believe him.
          "Ah, yes, here they are now. My darling children," Mrs. Charleston announced as she gestured towards them with a gracious wave of her hand. "Now that they're here I think that it is about time this carnival fundraiser started, how about y'all?" She yelled out over the crowd with a smile plastered on her polished face.
          Announcement made, Daisy waved off the crowd of high society members before swiftly turning to focus her intense attention on her darling children. Pointing at each of them in turn she gestured them over as she fixated the group with a look that spoke volumes for how she felt. For her children it was also a look that they were all too familiar with that meant they were in deep, deep trouble.

Safety and Secrets

          The original version of this short story with the potential to grow was written during a store wide meeting. There wasn't a lot of editing done to it since then, mostly a mixture of cleaning up my handwriting (I was writing in my sloppy penmanship at an awkward angle) and color coding the dialogue because that's how I roll in my notebooks. I forget what exactly the meeting was for, something about functioning before noon not being my thing at the time (as if I have a thing). However, I do recall being asked during the meeting if the filled up pages of chicken scratch had been done just that morning and saying yes. So yea, good job meetings, way to give me productive writing time and paying me for it, =P. Anyway, without further ado, here is the actual story. Enjoy.

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          Play it safe and plan ahead, those were the lessons driven into Jacob Reynold's head during the years of his youth. Continuous advice he had taken to heart as time saw him transform from a young boy to a young man. Gifts bestowed on his younger, ill equipped self were used and understood later on in his life to increase his presence in the world at large. Few of those wise family members were alive today to see the result of their advice, of their gifts. The reckless boy was now the king of a self made empire even though he could have settled away as a hermit from inheritance alone.

          This empire was beginning to drain on him and rob him of his remaining youth. Between meetings, paperwork, travel, and acting the part of a gracious host at social functions he rarely found time for himself. Over exertion that was steadily starting to worry his staff that had been with him since the start. Some worried due to their own increased hours, others from genuine concern, and some were merely hopping on the band wagon. Not that it mattered much as Jacob never seemed to heed the advice that came with the worry.

          "You buzzed sir?" Rosalyn asked as she strode into Jacob's office, interrupting his current train of thoughts. As she awaited a response she rested her hands against her heather gray trousers, nervously picking at the fabric.

          "Huh?" Muttered Jacob as he glanced up from his current pile of paperwork. While brief in length he still registered the way Rosalyn still had her left foot near the door to his office and the way she kept pinching the fabric of her trousers as if she would rather be somewhere else. "Oh, yes," he started firmly, the rest of his office swimming back into focus. Folding his calloused hands on the mountain of paperwork before him he smiled. "Can you take care of the office for the rest of the day?" He asked, sure that the answer would be a yes as he had hand picked Rosalyn for her drive, for her loyalty.

          Rosalyn pursed her lips for a split second before smiling brightly, sparkling white teeth showing for a moment before she dialed it back. Originally toady had been her day off to attempt to spend time with her boyfriend to mend their shattering relationship, but that would have to wait another day it looked like. "Not a problem at all sir," she stated in reply slowly as to keep her voice level and not reveal her true desire to do anything but that today. "May I ask why Mr. Reynolds? You don't have any outside meetings scheduled today." Rosalyn asked, glancing towards the vaulted ceiling composed of light gray planks of wood that gave the office and summer home vibe as she recalled her boss's busy schedule.

          Jacob noticed the shift of emotions and shrugged his shoulders forward. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do to remedy that situation today. Drive and loyalty could only carry someone so far, eventually his push for excellence would tire even his best employee out. "Thank you. It's nice to know that I can always count on you," he declared, leaning back into his plush brown leather wing back swivel chair. "Private meeting with someone off of the books. I may be back tonight to catch up with work."

          "Okay sir. Should I let the rest of the crew know?" Rosalyn asked before she took a moment to adjust her thick framed glasses that had begun to slip down the bridge of her nose.

          "If you want to, otherwise don't worry about it. If anyone absolutely needs to get in contact with me they're more than welcome to call me," Jacob answered, his gray eyes not missing a single one of Rosalyn's reactions. Observing people had always been a hobby of his. The skills gained from it, such as how to recognize split second emotional reactions, had served him well over the years when it came to how to best handle his employees.

A Throwback Gem - High School Thoughts

          The following is a rediscovered gem from writing in high school, exact date I'm unsure of. I found it amusing enough and a serious reminder of how people were in high school (especially a lot of girls) to be posted.

- - - - - - - - - -

          Saturday evening and still there was no call regarding whether or not her and her unaware crush's plans would actually occur tomorrow or not occur for that matter. Patience, hers, was beginning to wane as she sat there on her twin size bed just staring at her neon orange phone. He had to call, that was her make believe rule. If he didn't then all hell would break lose and whatever last bit of faith she had in the opposite sex would fail her for the last time. No, if he didn't call by midnight all the hope she had left would be distinguished. Oh well, one more lost star among thousands.

          She couldn't, no she wouldn't think about what he had said. That would simply make it worse, shatter her faster and in a more deadly fashion. Except she was thinking about what he said over and over again, the words the hamster of the wheel in her head. Round and round the words went, we'll meet up Sunday - I promise. Run little hamster, run your little heart out and don't let the world hurt you. No, no that wasn't right - this was just a nightmare, it couldn't real. He would call, yeah he bloody well would call - she hoped, oh god did she hope that was true. Hope doesn't work that way though, so it was time to spiral away from herself into a new existence, into a new pocket of life within herself surrounded by ice.          The phone wasn't going to ring by will power, hell no. If it did then she would be dreaming, having fallen asleep waiting. Damn it, she should just call him - let him know she was dying to know and give away her secret of liking him. Never, that wasn't a solution to ever be considered, regardless of how desperate she was to hear his voice again. Then just like that it rang and her heart began to soar towards somewhere above the clouds, into her special pocket of happiness reserved for making herself a walking lie outside of her room.           Yet just like that all of her happiness disappeared. Okay it had everything to do with her picking up the phone only to hear the voice of someone else, someone else telling him that he was to busy with her to hang out with her. With that a nerve snapped and she just hung up the phone without a single word. It had come from his house, caller ID had told her as much. Except who the girl was she didn't know. That didn't matter one bit though, he had broken a promise to her and for that she would disappear into the unknown.          Curling up into a ball she quietly sang to herself. The words had been memorized after hearing them enough, after all her father had sang it to her multiple times when they were closer, when the whole family was closer. Then soon enough none of them were particularly close, a family of arguments healed over by overly fake happiness. No one needed to know that inside she was dying and through that everyone was an unwanted presence, which was the real reason that her relationships with her family was dying.          Crumbling defenses and a bubble of darkness - eternal darkness, that was her on the inside. The outside was a combination of happiness, sadness, and everything in between. Maniacal laughter to crying and back again to the laughter. Snapped, a dry twig stepped on with every intent to destroy it. Ruined, eroded metal that had never been taken care of. Exaggerated to an extreme, oh well it would all be okay. That lie was sanity, a tree branch to cling to in hopes of survival - her grip weakening with every second. And then it was all over in a few seconds and she was simply herself once more, the same old Rebecca Leigh Jones that everyone knew and loved, hated, liked, or disliked.

Matthias Quinn Jamenson

  An exasperated sigh escaped from the almost constantly pursed lips of Ms. Pickrell as she stared up at Quinn. “Do you ever get tired of being such a nuisance?” She asked with as much calm as she could muster, quite tired of reminding her student that he had work to do.
  Quinn thought it over, casually leaning back against one of the desks in the room; calloused hands gripping on to the edge. “Do you ever get tired of my mother’s room?” He shot back finally, lips curving up into his all to well known smirk.
Ms. Pickrell’s eyes narrowed at the reference, hands moving on to her hips as she became defensive. “Different situations Quinn,” she replied carefully, the words turning over in her head. “What her and I do doesn’t concern you and you should know well enough to behave in class unless you want to deal with her being... disappointed.” The pause before disappointed thought over well before it came out; such a well calculated hit as far as she was concerned.
Tightening his grip on the plastic top of the desk, Quinn’s smirk lost a little bit of its normal luster. “Fine, I’ll have the assignment done in time for class and I’ll even refrain from disrupting your oh so well thought out lesson plan,” he managed to say at last as he pushed himself off of the desk; standing up to his full height of 6’3. “Now, if you don’t mind ma’am, I have some excess energy to burn off ahead of time.”
With that Quinn was out the door, long strides removing himself from the room before he could even hear a response. Said strides continued to propel the youth towards the doors leading to the outside at the front of the school; black backpack bouncing against his back with each step. As he approached the door the occasional wave, hello, and head nod was given to a familiar face, but nothing more; a boy with a mission one might say. A mission that was accomplished with ease as rough hands earned through hard work making contact with the handle of one of the main doors and pushing it open with more force than intended.

Birdsong High School - Olivia Marie Gomez

Birdsong High School was as bright as the name tended to imply; almost perfect looking in the photos on the school pamphlets and site. What most parents deemed to be the best school in town; not that such a roaring recommendation meant much since it was the only high school in the small town. Regardless, staff members took the glowing praise to heart and tried their best to keep things up to standard for themselves and the growing minds of the student body.

Of course, the students didn't always agree with this. At times finding the freedom to self educate on specific projects to be frustrating; especially those in their ninth grade year when the concept was first introduced. Though even those in their later years occasionally floundered with the idea of an education tailored better to suit their interests while also being educated on the basics of Math, English, and a language of their choice.

Olivia Marie Gomez, currently in her senior year, had been one of the multiple students to find herself overwhelmed at the teaching strategy of the school. Unsure of how to accept being thought of and treated as someone capable of their own decisions for once despite knowing it was coming thanks to an older brother. However, now that she had managed to stumble forward with a wavering 3.5 GPA into her senior year, she found herself grateful for how the years had turned out. Well, at least to the point to think the situation over as she impatiently tapped her foot behind someone in line to get herself an unhealthy drink fix for lunch rather than some actual food.

This particular habit of hers wasn't new; unless of course the student stuck in front of her was new to the area. Otherwise it was a well known lunch time ritual kept in place to keep control of parts of the day when there wasn't as much structure in the surrounding area. Not that the classroom environment was much better for that, but at the very least there was a noise control system in place.

"You know, there's always five choices. Never four, never three. They never run out and yet every day one of y'all manages to stare at it as if there is a new choice," she grumbled quite audibly, black Vans decorated with gunmetal gray zombies hitting against the ground louder in an effort to show her dislike for waiting more than five seconds for her afternoon caffeine fix. Which was, quite possibly, one of the few things she considered herself to be rude during; otherwise it was as much about sunshine and lollipops as she could handle. Better friends first then enemies to start off the bat after all.

Once the student was done making their choice, Olivia happily and quickly inserted the correct amount for a drink and punched in her choice of the day; a Dr. Pepper. Opening it up, she stepped away from the small room for the machines, walking into the main lunch area, drink already open. Beginning to take a sip she stumbled on the shoelaces of her own shoes, falling forward and managing to spill some (rather entirely too much) of her drink on a student she didn't recognize. Screaming an apology shortly after an expletive, she began to flee from the scene to get some paper towels or something.

Super Hero Power

          Tick. Tock. The familiar, constant movement of the library's study room's singular analog clock provided comfort for the room's only inhabitant. On a normal day that continuous, monotonous noise would go by unnoticed by the aforementioned person, but today there were no other distractions for them to focus on. Instead they were stuck waiting and hoping that their normal distraction comrade would show her face at some point, preferably sooner rather then later. Until such a time the person in the room kept their focus on that repetitious noise to keep steady, to avoid falling victim to frustration and hopelessness.
          "I'm beginning to think that your standard belief is that I won't show," a feminine voice stated from near the back entrance of the room. "At least that's the message your body tends to convey when I'm late," the owner of the voice added on as the original occupant of the room straightened up in their seat and turned to look at the new arrival.
          "Probably because your definition of late starts at a thirty minute minimum," the male that had already been in attendance pointed out. "It's not exactly the best confidence builder," he added on, his body still turned to allow him to keep his jade green eyes on the girl.
          "If you know my habits so well you should plan around them," the girl shot back, her long pale legs made short work of the room as she strode to the front of the room as she spoke. She spun around on the balls of her left foot then to face the desk that the young man was seated at.
          "I tried that once, somehow you were still thirty minutes late. Pretty sure that's your super hero power." The male commented as he turned to sit back in the chair properly. A broad smile was on his face now, the dimples on his face quite evident.
          "Shoot, you figured me out. Now to keep you quiet with my secret. I could either kill you or seduce you to keep it safe," proclaimed the twenty something year old female as she turned around again. She scooted back then to press her butt up against the edge of the desk. Raising her right leg up she half hopped, half slid into a seated position on the desk, turned to face towards her friend. Leaning down she brushed her lips against the young man's left cheek, planting a quick kiss there. "Personally I'm a face of the seduction option," she whispered, winking as she sat up straight.
          The boy's naturally tanned cheeks lit up as he felt the girl's smooth, soft lips against them. Unsure of how to respond at first he sat there dumbfounded, his left hand mindlessly rubbing his cheek. "Tease," he managed to stammer out after a little while, tilting his chin up to look at the girl better.

Just Up and Leave

          Dusk had settled over the sleepy town of Bakersville. Dulled over blues and pinks still lingered in the sky from the day's sunset. A sunset that was met by the ringing sound of glass against glass; a toast between friends to ring out the final day of summer. Tomorrow their school lives would resume, but for tonight they were free for a little while longer. Not that other obligations had failed to intrude on their time, school was merely a different sort of feeling, sort of trap in this nowhere town.
         "There has to be so much more than this," Adelaide declared from his propped up position against an ancient oak tree. To illustrate his point he swept his right arm through the air in front of him, gesturing at the world surrounding them.
         "Says who? Maybe this is what the rest of the world experiences. All of the same old woes and joys. They may differ in the exact details, but maybe it's all really the same," countered Edith as she adjusted her position against Adelaide to account for his movement.
         "Maybe, but we don't know for certain. Won't know until we get out of this nowhere town and try to experience something different, something better than all of this." Adelaide stated, his words a rush of thoughts he had been having for months. Excitement over the prospect of leaving coursed through him as he spoke, causing his legs to shake as he was unable to stay completely still. Movement that caused now empty glasses to fall over, rolling their merry way down to the edge of the rainbow zebra patterned blanket Edith and him shared. "Like tonight we could get back in my jeep and run. Be somewhere new before anyone even knows we're gone."
         "What will we do when we get there? Find the same drab jobs? Find new friends to try and fit in with?" Edith asked despite having made up her mind to go. A decision made evident by her standing up, abandoning her comfortable position nestled up against Adelaide, a look of determination on her face. Swinging her left fluorescent pink oxford Converse clad foot towards the vehicle in question.
         "Anything we want Baby Cakes. We can reinvent ourselves, choose to be whoever we feel like being. And when we're done we'll disappear into the night to become someone new." Adelaide answered, green brown eyes seemingly pulsing with vibrant energy as he spoke. He stood then, rocking back on his feet to stay in motion. Absently tugging at the bottom of his green shirt with two bears on it at chest level with one wearing a hat and a polka dot tie proclaiming that some days he felt pretty average, righting the rumbled mess that it had become due to Edith's head resting on his midsection for hours.
         "What if I don't want to be someone new every time?" Edith inquired, feeling confident of the answer already. She was addicted to the way Adelaide spoke with such enthusiasm, such exuberance when an idea gripped him. Each word was punctuated by a step towards Adelaide's '06 Jeep Cherokee which had been an early birthday present from his parents.
         "Then stay the same, do whatever makes you happy. You know I'll love you no matter what you decide to do." Responded Adelaide as he stayed rooted to the spot by the oak tree over looking the lake by his family's cabin. As thrilled as he was at the prospect of following through with one of his life ambitions with the woman he had just admitted he was in love with he was also terrified of the unknown.

The View from Below

          They hung loose on her hips, dipping down one side or another to reveal a hint of the tanned skin underneath until she noticed and pulled them up. Those devilish dark blue jean shorts with their frayed cuffs were the teasing bane of Winston's life. A near constant reminder of what he couldn't have from his lowly position as the friend, well best friend, but that did little to assist with the situation. From that position he always noticed the slips, the little hints of a world he was denied long before Penny became conscious of them, corrected them. Even those actions held an allure for him, though he wished that they didn't. After all, they had a way of entrapping him, of getting him caught in the act of staring in slack jawed appreciation.

         Aware of a look that Penelope, or Penny as she preferred, shook off more often than not she reached down to slide her right thumb through one of the belt loops on her cut off shorts and tugged them upwards to right them. Momentarily Winston frowned at this development despite knowing full well that it would happen, it always did in the end. With it came a shift of his attention; the return of his gaze to his partner in crime since elementary school's oval face. Not surprised at all by the scowl his renewed facial observation was met with. Exchanges of expressions such as that were becoming increasingly more common place.

         "You can hardly blame me for looking," Winston stated for what felt like the thousandth time. "I'm a blue blooded male and you're what we like to call a ten," he added on in way of explanation of his defense.

         Penny rolled her eyes at this declaration. "No, I'm what we like to call a 5.9, maybe a 6.9 on an extra fabulous day. Besides I can blame you all I want. We're just friends and you know better mister needs to keep it in his trousers." She countered, tilting her head down to better stare at Winston from her heightened position near the top of the slide's ladder she had paused to fix her shorts.

         "We're only just friends because you won't give me a chance," Winston grumbled quite audibly as he stood to the left side of the rickety metal slide they had discovered in an overgrown part of their favorite park, waiting for his turn on it.

         "I don't want to ruin our friendship and you know that I'm still dating Bentley," Penny grumbled right on back as she situated herself on the top of the slide, shivering as her mostly bare legs came into contact with the chilly surface of the slide. Perfect position found, Penny pulled her lavender tinted aviator goggles down over her cornflower blue eyes, taking a moment to fix her ruffled up chocolate brown hair with natural lighter brown highlights.

         "Bentley the tool," mumbled Winston under his breath as he stepped towards the bottom of the slide for a better view. "Systems are all clear for take off," he announced as he pulled out his phone from the right front pocket of his dark wash blue jeans to capture a video of the first slide launch.

         Penny frowned for a moment at hearing Winston's mumbled comment, but decided to not say anything in response as she wasn't in the mood for that argument today. "One, two, three, and blast off!" She exclaimed before beginning her rapid descent down the slide. Squealing in delight as she quickly slid down the short right Penny raised her arms up to relish in every last second.

Why I'll Die A Crazy Cat Lady

          For a while now I've been meaning to write out a list of things that I like in guys because that's a conversation that comes up every now and again. You get to talking with someone and if you're close enough it just sort of happens, gets brought up some how. The thing is I'm never entirely sure how to answer that one. I want lots of things, I think in the moment, how do I list them all? Must be funny, must be charming, must be romantic, must be blah blah blah. Except the thing is, those all sound a little wrong when I write them out or say them aloud. While yes, those are nice, they're not quite on spot for what could really make or break things. Lots of people are charming, are nice, are funny, are something and that's great, but definitely not quite enough.
          It came up again recently while talking to an online friend and I decided right then screw it, I'm going to figure this out to some extent and eventually post it for the world to see... That was nearly a month ago and I'm just now getting around to the posting part. I have worked on it since then, started at work one night on a piece of scrap paper. Since then it has evolved some and been tinkered with while feigning interest in the dramatics surrounding me at my main day time employment. All in all I think they're reasonable requirements of sorts... Even if I'm also completely sure that they're why I'll die a crazy cat lady.

          1.) Doesn't regularly make me want to feed him to sharks.
                    - You would think that this is sort of something that makes sense, but I've come to realize that I have a tendency to never pay attention to it until mixed signals have happened or I've said I'm interested in someone. Likeships make you blind or something. Also, I don't literally mean I am going to feed someone to a shark just that sometimes I am done with a situation, an action, something.
          2.) Can and does text.
                    - Here's the deal, I live at work quite often and my main form of communication with my all over the place schedule is text messaging. Calls are pretty rad too, but those aren't always on the table as an option. Thus if I can't text you and have you respond fairly consistently (because hey, life does happen), it just isn't a good fit. That isn't to say if they never text me for like a day or two I'm going to flip the fuck out, just that it should be understood I'm a texter in the worst way.
          3.) Drinks like a fish or at least accepts the fact that I do.
                    - The acceptance part is the one that truly matters. I co-host party events, I enjoy going to parties with other people, I socially drink like a fish and I like it. It's one of those things that will possibly die down with time, but for right now it's a part of me and I'm not going to change it just to be with someone.
          4.) Is capable of playing board games and the like while drinking like a fish.
                    - Not everyone is capable of this, which is a shame at times but it's also okay to an extent. I'm not talking games where you have to really think out your turn (MtG, agricula, etc.), but if you can't even handle Cards Against Humanity while drunk then please go home, <3.
          5.) Accepts drunk dials in good humor.
                    - Yeah, okay, I'm kind of notorious for this. I'm not looking for involved conversations or deep ones. More of a shout, some laughs, and being screamed at by multiple drunk individuals.
          6.) Capable of interacting with other hooman beings.
                    - This is another one of those things that I wish I didn't have to state, but it's something that I've encountered before. Even with my general dislike of people I still enjoy social activities and those involve conversing with other people for unknown lengths of time. Also, as a co-host, I won't always be hanging on the arm of someone to make sure they're okay, they're fine, they're not hiding in a corner. This is true for events I'm not helping in running, but yea...
          7.) Similar taste and thoughts on music.
                    - This is more of a super idealistic one since I do not often find people that listen to the same bands as I do. Really though, the more important part is the thoughts on music. I am not one to beat other genres into the ground, to hate on other music that may aid someone else in their life. I like music for it being music, for it making me happy. 
          8.) Loves going to concerts - even random ones chosen on a whim.
                    - I miss concerts something fierce, especially going to them with someone else. There's just something to said about the whole experience and there's so much joy involved for me. Like yea, it's cool that it's not everyone's thing, but it is mine and I want to share it.
          9.) Doesn't constantly beat jokes into a bloody pulp.
                    - Some jokes are hilarious, some can last, and some you just wish you never told someone because ohmygosh they never let it go. Seriously. Dude. For cereals. Just let it die already.
          10.) Embraces his inner child.
                    - Lets go to the zoo! The aquarium! Wonder around a toy store or any store just being silly and looking at things. Be silly, be weird... Color in a book, play with fingerpaints... Just, yea.
          11.) Has hair long enough to fiddle with and doesn't mind it being played with. (As a tie in, if there's a beard, also doesn't mind it being touched.)
                    - This one basically speaks for itself. Like, for realsies.
          12.) Enjoys adventures with and without concrete destinations.
                    - I love road trips to places I have a plan for and those ones you take on a whim. Lets get in the car and just go, go, go.
          13.) Plays video games (especially RPGs) and isn't a douche about it.
                    - The isn't a douche part is quite important. I've met plenty of people who play games that can be absolutely rude over how they're so much better at it than you, that they beat it so quickly, that it is the best best best and everything else is the worst thing ever. I just enjoy them because they're fun to me, I have no reason to hate on other games in a real serious manner. As for playing them in general, I am all for hanging out and playing an rpg even if it is one player because it's just awesome.
          14.) Has a life outside of the relationship.
                    - It's a matter of a healthy existence. If the only thing that exists is the relationship and thus me then I'mma be a worried bee. It's just not right. There was a life before me, there should be one with me.
          15.) Capable of taking care of himself.
                    - This sort of ties in with number fourteen. We're adults, lets both be pals that can pay for our stuff and hang out and not be completely reliant on one another.
          16.) Isn't a hairy beast.
                    - Seriously, so much seriousness there. Too much hair freaks me the frack out and makes me uncomfortable. Like. Why... Why is there so much hair everywhere?

          And now for a couple of bonus notations..

          Bonus 1.) Has a nifty accent.
                    - I'm a sucker for a Scottish accent and even a fair amount of southern ones (it's the word reckon that really helps there.) So dating someone with one? Super duper extra nifty.
          Bonus 2.) Has a ginger beard.
                    - This sort of started as a joke once, but really they're kind of magnificent in a way. Not that other colored beards are bad or anything, they're just inferior.

          So right, I believe number one is the main reason I will be forever alone and die a crazy cat lady.

A Disaster is Always Better Than Playing with a Sure Thing

          The late shift normally agrees with me. I can settle away in my head as music plays, letting myself drift through the wee hours. The tiny projects I want to complete are worked on, unlike what tends to happen the rest of the time. A doodle here, some writing there, a book to cozy up with; little things conspiring together to keep time flowing, to keep me engaged. Problem is that at times my head drifts too far away, it goes wandering down dark little paths crisscrossed with tangled webs. Dark little paths that beckon, that holler, that demand attention I wish I better resisted giving to them, allowing them to have.
          That first sparked reaction is troublesome, is my downfall. What may have been a regular night filled with nothing terrible, nothing disorientating can suddenly become rocked, shaken vigorously. Frustrating chain reactions that burst, that explode, that keep pulling me back under waves I cannot see anymore. A set of reactions I should expect ahead of time, should be able to prepare for before the inevitable happens, but I cannot. The thought patterns differ, they evolve from time to time, and they are not always recognizable as something that will make me want to crawl out of my skin.
          Instead I am hit full force with that need, that desire to depart, to flee, to engage in the flight reaction. Responses that I cannot cater to, cannot give into as badly as I wish to, so other actions are taken to counteract whatever it is that plagues me, that wants to drown me. Pacing in the lobby, a short loop that does nothing to deter the thoughts at the edge of my mind dancing in the shadows where they can play peek-a-boo. A book left open to bed read through in spurts, between the times where I grasp at images that turn, that twirl, that spiral out of control. Music in the background, soft and quiet, lyrics that attempt to keep me grounded for the most part. Some songs pull me, drag me towards memories that crush, towards thoughts I am not fond of entertaining. Words written in a manic rush, in a slow meticulous fashion, in ups and downs to try to halt things.
          Madness, a mess, a mistake...

An Insignificant Dot in a Large Circle

          I realized recently that it has been quite some time since I have managed to settle down in front of a computer and just type away to my hearts content, to ramble away until the sun is beckoning for me to sleep like the vampire that I regularly become. At first it was a matter of losing my dear laptop. A devastating problem that still exists and may one day be remedied if I ever properly prioritize reacquiring a computer of some sort. Since then it has changed to being a matter of not knowing how to begin, where to start, what to say to get those little thoughts in my head rolling. That's the problem that has plagued me since my computer access has grown from nonexistent to while I whittle away at the late night hours for work multiple days a week. What a terrible problem.
          The thing is I'm not even sure if I could in all conscious say that it's because I don't know how to get things started. There are several, many, a plethora of beginnings to draw from, choose from, to decide between. Knowing that, accepting that means that I am aware that my drive is fairly low for things that I pretend to be passionate about. Well, okay, that's not completely true either as I do scribble out rambles in my notebooks, on my arms, on tiny scraps of paper... They just don't all make it out into the lime light, they don't all get on stage for the amusement of a nonexistent crowd. Most days I am convinced this is better for all parties involved as angst isn't entirely exciting. Angst is the wrong word, it's overused, it devours all the categories similar to it... That's a different story, a different ramble I think, I believe, I'll make it so.
          What I mean is that I don't think everyone needs to know every thought that scampers, runs, tumbles its way through my hyperactive mind, my dull mind, my confused mind. I have notes about how I've met some people, of what I thought during those early days of blooming friendships, rough days at work, little things, meaningless things to people that aren't me. Then there are the funny things like my list of things I like in boys titled why I'll die a crazy cat lady. Which I feel should be posted sometime, maybe even tonight, tomorrow... However days work, they're kind of quite terribly confusing. But yes, you see, the mix isn't for all, it's not even for me... Ugh, that's all broken and I don't even want to fix it anymore.
          Anyway, back to the beginning, to what I wanted to say some time ago... Minutes ago, seconds ago, this time business is still quite convoluted. This discovery of a lack of a proper ramble in months. The last one was almost exactly a year ago to give other people an idea of what I mean by months. Thus this post of ups and downs of twists and turns was born, was created, was dumped into the ether with only a bit of thought behind things being said, being typed, being declared.