Blog Me A Tale

These things I believe:

2010-06-06T11:54:00.000-07:00

You can't make someone else happy until you are happy with yourself. Satisfy yourself first. The very best family isn't always those related by blood.The best things and most things worth having are those that don't come easy. All the bad things we go though are those that make us stronger and better people. You never know just how strong you are until you have to be. You should never, ever

Road Trip!

2010-06-04T01:19:00.000-07:00

June's topic is partially inspired by a contributor who has taken to the roads and partially inspired by the fact that it is road trip season. I am on my way out of town tomorrow, after barely getting home and unpacking from a wonderful weekend of festivities with a friend. As I checked in luggage and found baggage carousels, I must admit I felt nostalgic for the few college road trips I went

This I Believe

2010-05-02T11:06:00.000-07:00

This I believe...One of the most important, but often overlooked, elements in a relationship is to want your partner's happiness more than your own. This should not be a chore, you should genuinely want to make your partner happy. But you should never feel like you HAVE to.Do your job to the best of your ability and be proud of the work you do. Liking cats more than dogs does not automatically

v.30

2010-05-02T06:51:00.000-07:00

This I Believe, v.30I Believe that at 30, my life just started. I have already done a lot, have been through a lot, and have learned from it all. Now it is time to take these lessons and use them to move forward. I believe that it will get worse before it gets better. But it will get better.I believe that those who truly love you will know the truth no matter what you tell them. When someone asks

At 23

2010-04-17T20:26:00.001-07:00

I believe in all the Gods, and trust none of them.I believe in one Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church, which I no longer attend.I believe in Twitter, Facebook, text messages, pie, and all the other tangible things people say they don't believe in.I believe in all the things I can see, and more than a few things I can't. I believe in evil.I believe in good.I believe that people are better than we

The Lattice

2010-04-04T05:59:00.001-07:00

In A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, Dave Eggers describes the human community as a lattice:"The lattice is the connective tissue...I see us as one, as a vast matrix, an army, a whole, each one of us responsible to one another, because no one else is."To be a part of the lattice, you don't need to be brilliant, or rich, or powerful. You just need to believe in the lattice, and be.

April Theme: This I Believe

2010-04-01T09:00:00.001-07:00

I don't know how many of you listen to NPR or are familiar with Edward R. Murrow's series by this name. I was hooked on the NPR series since they restarted it a few years ago and every time I heard it, I'd think, "I'm going submit something!" I didn't and now the has series ended.While in its most recent on air version, there were a number of famous people sharing their beliefs, I loved the

the end is the beginning

2010-03-29T08:30:00.000-07:00

You know, it’s not the loss that hits first. It’s the pain. The pain that doubles you over and wrings more tears from your eyes than you ever thought possible.My dad died on October 2, 2007. It was a normal day, just like any other. A Tuesday. I was at work; I was always one of the first people to get to work, which I liked because I could goof off for a solid hour before my boss got there. It

Teenage Girls

2010-03-28T23:11:00.000-07:00

I'm not a Taylor Swift fan, but she has one lyric that hit me like a punch to the gut when I first heard it, and it's still her only lyric that has that much of an effect on me: "When you're fifteen and somebody tells you they love you, you're gonna believe them."When I was fifteen, I lost my best friend because a boy told me he loved me and I believed him.We'd only known each other since we were

1

2010-03-25T19:27:00.000-07:00

She's been looking at me for a while, her hand protectively holding her cheeky boy. I can almost see her as a child, with the same defiant expression looking equally cheeky. Tears start to well up again and my throat is tightening. She says nothing, her steady gaze and smile get me every time I look up. Today, she has been gone exactly a year.Her picture sits at my work desk more than a year

A friend

2010-03-25T19:22:00.000-07:00

I'm not an emotional person. I don't wear my heart on my sleeve, but more likely buried under 14 layers of stuff. I don't cry often, and if I do, it's really bad. I generally chose to let things build up until I'd can't hide them anymore. It's not healthy nor ideal, but it's me. As a result, I have a hard time explaining my emotions and knowing how to react in emotional situations. The last

Learning the Rhythm

2010-02-19T09:52:00.000-08:00

A small remembrance of a friend I lost when I was 16. I miss you, dear one. You saved my life, and for that I am so grateful.Eddie was a sensualist. Not in the sexual way (although that certainly came into play as we grew older) but because of his love of beauty. All beauty, especially music. He could be brought to tears by a good guitar riff, or a spectacular piano melody. But rhythm was his

I was doing fine, until I started this post.

2010-02-18T13:38:00.001-08:00

My dad died six years ago today. His death was completely unexpected. He had had knee replacement surgery and then died from a subdural hematoma a week and a half later. He had been complaining about a headache since shortly after he woke up from surgery. Even after an autopsy, we still don't have a clear sense of what happened.My relationship with my dad was complicated. And the best

The Ache Never Leaves

2010-02-17T23:39:00.001-08:00

When I was growing up I had two mothers. My mother, and my aunt. My father was not around, and when he was, he was abusive. I remember one night, after a beating, my mother fled with us to the safety of my Aunt Judy’s. We remained with her for a day and a half; shortly after my parents separated and The Juice, as I called her, stepped up to help my mama raise us. She took us to her home for

The Return of Blogged Tales

2010-02-16T00:16:00.000-08:00

Much like a little sprout making its way out from beneath dormant land, the blog is shaking off the dust and rising. A great deal has happened since the last suggested topic. The last few months, participation dwindled and finally stopped. But recently old friends have come back and want to share their tales again. This is wonderful news. So in celebration of friends, their stories and words

November Theme: Giving Thanks

2008-11-02T23:44:00.001-08:00

November's theme is so easy for me; lately I have been grateful for many things. I always have a long list of things that I want or need at any given moment. More this, less that and just the right amount of the other. However, if I am honest there is plenty that I am thankful for every single day. The problem then becomes identifying that for which I'm most thankful. Thanksgiving is my

Vice, Vice Baby

2008-11-01T19:05:00.000-07:00

You know, a year ago this would have been a no-brainer. A year ago, I could have written an essay - a dissertation, even, on vice. More specifically, on my vices. Unfortunately (for the purposes of this space, anyway), my vices are slowly dissipating into history, like smoke from a bottle. It's taken a bit of adjusting to. In the last year, I've quit smoking, started eating right, getting

Almost Viceless

2008-10-31T21:52:00.000-07:00

Since this theme was suggested, I have been wondering what on earth can I list as a vice? It's the unfortunate downside of being so close to perfect. My one cup of morning coffee is a pleasant ritual; my sweet tooth is an reflection of my sweet nature...You can only imagine what my poor husband goes through having to live with someone with no known vices. But if I had to imagine a vice that

Excerpt from an Untitled Story

2008-10-27T20:39:00.000-07:00

Authorial aside (haha, that just sounds pretentious): This may not make a whole lot of sense out of context, but at least the first section tells a little story, and the second section is a little bit philosophical, so I think we're good. Additionally, it has to do with vices, so it fits the theme, and I haven't posted in a long time because, well, I've been swamped with work and college. So,

October Theme: Vices

2008-10-02T23:00:00.000-07:00

Last night, I was so tired that all I could do was lay on the couch and ponder the heat. Then I thought, summer hasn't been too bad. I have trained almost all summer without serious problems. And the temperature being close to ninety degrees in August wasn't too bad, right? Except I realized it wasn't August, but the first day of October. NINETY DEGREES in OCTOBER? If I didn't know better,

Fruit of the Womb

2008-09-23T00:49:00.000-07:00

ClickClick. ClickClick."So, did you like Costa Rica? Would you recommend it to your friends?""Yes", I said through clenched teeth. I tried to think of a happier time spent in Costa Rica, with monkeys roaming the streets, frescas and plush greenery.ClickClick. Crinkled brow. Click.Click."What did you like most? Was the food good?"I think there are two times when it is physically impossible for me

September Theme: The Loneliness

2008-09-06T23:36:00.000-07:00

Hello friends! I'm sorry I'm posting the September theme six days into the month, but life has been crazy lately. Last month, as a reward for my hard work on the last two projects at work, I was removed from my comfort zone and put on a project that is a mess. Under a new manager. In a group known for being overly 'helpful'. I spent a good part of August freaking out and resolving to be a

"We Need to Talk"

2008-08-20T14:11:00.000-07:00

I’m led into our bedroom. Already, the computer chair is in the middle of the room facing the door, positioned for a one-member audience for a one-woman show. “Since we got back to school, you’ve changed.” I adjust in the chair. I lean too far back and flinch over my fear of tipping. She continues, “You just stopped talking to me. I mean, about anything important. And you don’t sit next to me at

My Anchor

2008-08-10T17:51:00.001-07:00

It was simple. I was born. I was born and I grew in a neighborhood of all boys. The Star Wars Action Figures had me relocated to Princes Leah every single time I played. I played, resigned to the way life was until the baby sister of one of my friends suddenly grew and seemed interesting. Having completed her bout with diapers and incessant crying, she suddenly was ‘not’ annoying. At six years

August Theme: Friends and Enemies

2008-08-02T15:48:00.000-07:00

I collect friends like some women collect jewelery. I can honestly say that my friends have had as much to do with my getting to where I am as any other factor in my life. I have been fortunate to have friends from every walk of life and background; people who embrace me for the (slightly) imperfect being that I am. And sadly I have a few people who make me cringe every time I think of them.

Lessons learned

2008-07-31T06:43:00.000-07:00

Long ago, I wrote a post on my own blog about my father. It was perhaps the most difficult, soul-baring post I've ever written, and I've since taken it down. It was just too much to have out there. I've thought about re-posting it, but there's more in there than needs to be shared. At the time, it was rather cathartic, just getting it all out there. Now, it seems unnecessary.Here's the short

What He Gave Me

2008-07-25T21:02:00.000-07:00

In the end, it comes down to the two things my father gave me: a good name and my education. Each was a small miracle in its own way.My father was escorted out of his dysfunctional home when he was about 16 years old. He lived on the streets, trying to survive in a society where your name and family were your line of credit. His name did not inspire trust or acceptance and he and his family

A Grey Wedding

2008-07-25T11:56:00.000-07:00

Walking down Michigan Avenue, my father’s fiancée comments that she may come up to Chicago to buy her wedding dress. “Don’t worry,” she whispers to me, “I’m not going to wear white.” “At least you’re honest.” What else can I say to a sixty-four-year-old retired school teacher? A born-again Christian who told my father, a never-born Christian, to be baptized or she wouldn’t say Yes, Sarah is

Characters Welcomed

2008-07-24T06:39:00.000-07:00

My dad and I have a very complicated history, so choosing this month's particular topic as my inaugural post on "Blog Me a Tale" probably wasn't the smartest way to go, but anyone who knows me understands I rarely take the easy way out.Well, to start, my dad's a real character - so much so that if I'm ever missing him, there are a couple of TV reruns I can watch to feel as if he's right there in

Dick*

2008-07-13T07:30:00.000-07:00

I think I was five years old the last time my dad and I had an argument. My dad is, for the most part, a serious looking man with a good pokerface. However, being half Italian and half German, when his temper flares he suddenly becomes an animated caricature of his usual sober self. His stance widens, knees slightly bent so he can bounce a bit to the rhythm of his yelling and carrying on, his

KUNG FU PANDA

2008-07-02T10:14:00.000-07:00

“Tell me a story.”I focus the camera on my dad as he stands in the dark hotel room. The videocamera was graciously “borrowed” from Best Buy, and would be returned with receipt within the 30 days grace period. My cousin Michael was graduating from law school in New Hampshire, and his mother was in a hospital bed recovering from surgery to remove a tumor. As the lone film student, my job was to

July Theme: Who's Your Daddy?

2008-07-01T21:57:00.000-07:00

It's already July, people. I'm not sure I'm ready.I was recently talking to my friend and she was telling me about her husband's reaction to the birth of their daughter: he became a teary puddle of mush. Before they left the hospital, he had already promised to never let a anyone break her heart. This was a stark contrast to his reaction to the birth of their son--he took his 3 day old son

Unrequited Something

2008-06-30T16:40:00.000-07:00

You can't really call it an affair, I suppose. And it certainly wasn't romance; there were no sweet whispers in small Chilean cafes or handholds, or long walks. It was, however, the sexiest something of my young life up to that point. It crackled under our skin. Electricity. Chemistry. Something purely in the realm of the physical. It was intoxicating and inescapable.We walk into the kitchen to

Happy Birthday, Martin Aimes! (Part II)

2008-06-27T14:59:00.000-07:00

The assault on his nose ended almost immediately, to be replaced with a stifling feeling of heat and the smell of dust. Afraid of what he would find yet still infinitely curious, Martin slowly opened his eyes only to be blinded by the brightness of the sun beating down on him. The fear he felt at finding himself in a new locale with no explanation as to how he got there was ratcheted up several

Bees and Strawberries

2008-06-23T21:16:00.000-07:00

The sting on his face was clearly swelling. He was horribly self-conscious all of a sudden. For the entirety of his adult life, he had managed to steer clear of bees, and now, today, a bee found its way downtown and attacked Jim, as though it was targeting him because it somehow knew it would cause him a greater deal of pain than it would anyone else. He fell to the

Happy Birthday, Martin Aimes! (Part I)

2008-06-23T08:27:00.000-07:00

On the eve of his 40th birthday, Martin Aimes travelled in time.That’s how it felt to him anyway. It could easily have been a product of an undiagnosed aneurysm or a flashback from his more drug liberal days, but Martin was convinced that the rapid rush of images he saw was a personal journey through his own timeline. He’d never been one to buy into the idea of past lives or destiny, but the

I'm Big In Brazil

2008-06-20T12:11:00.000-07:00

A few years ago, we traveled to Rio de Janeiro for my cousin’s wedding. My cousin had been engaged once before, but a few months before the wedding, they broke it off. My cousin was heartbroken, had to un-invite all the guests, explain without explaining too much. But then he manned up, went to law school up in New Hampshire, met a vibrant and beautiful Brazilian girl, and ended up having what

I Left My Soul There, Down By The Sea

2008-06-19T10:03:00.000-07:00

We'd been in South Africa for a week, visiting my parents. We were scrabbling around a mountain path, a long, winding, twisting path that curled its way up and around. It was right by the ocean, wandering through air scented with salt and sand and seaweed and the earthy, thick smell of the mountains. It's a heady combination, especially for my sister and I, traveling far and long to be there;

Is this considered having been to "me"?

2008-06-12T19:01:00.000-07:00

Chest pain.Who knew that's all it took?That is how you get into an emergency room.Dragging on the cigarette, I found, was causing a complementary aching tightness in my chest. I thought "I should put this out before I die". I went back inside and figured I would go back to work. At least there was only about an hour left, but first, let's look up those heart attack symptoms. Left arm, right?

June Theme: Oh, The Places I Have Been

2008-06-03T22:15:00.001-07:00

It is June 3rd. I am obviously not running behind. I'm just giving you a couple of extra days to think of your stories. You know the theme: tell us where you have been. Where have you traveled to? Have have you seen? What situation did you find yourself in that you just had not anticipated? There's a whole wide world out there. As a little side note, I realized that Father's Day is in

Do As I Say, Not As I Do

2008-05-29T22:54:00.000-07:00

While I say that my mother's life hasn't been a breezy, happy walk in the park, I have some memories that randomly pop into my head and make me laugh hysterically. One of the most consistent themes is my mom's numerous failed attempts to train me out of my own nature, with occasionally hilarious results. For example I am, and always have been, a bit of a softy. I take up crazy causes and

Daniel

2008-05-28T22:08:00.001-07:00

My father had decided it was time for a family vacation. School was out for the summer, and my brother and I were already growing listless with boredom. We had played every game we could think of, and our favorite ones we played again and again, but we had run out of steam. My father knew exactly what to do to perk us up; he knew just the trick. We spent two days preparing, and then we piled into

She Missed The Joy

2008-05-28T20:40:00.000-07:00

As I watch my new-mom friends and those on their way to parenthood, I am struck by what my mother missed. The excitement I see around me is a stark contrast to mother's experience. And that makes me so sad, knowing she missed the joy.In a way, joy evaded her. From the moment she realized she was pregnant with me, she started praying sincerely and fervently. All she wanted was a daughter. A

A Thousand Tiny Tales

2008-05-28T07:59:00.000-07:00

So, it’s the end of the month. The end of the month and I still can’t think of anything to say. Forgive me for breaking the pseudo fourth wall here (“breaking the screen”?) but there are a million stories about my mother and I tell them all the time. They segue into one another perfectly: mentioning her fascination with the puffins (“but they’re only this big” physical approximation of size, “and

My Mom Is Chuck Norris

2008-05-27T10:58:00.001-07:00

My mother is about 4’9”. Most of the women in the family are short. My mother’s stature is such that she just makes other people look bigger when they are around her. I stand next to her in all photos and at major family events. I tower over her like a behemoth. My mother once rabbit punched a Gold-Medal winning wrestling coach because my brother fractured his elbow during a practice. This

My Mother, My Child

2008-05-23T06:16:00.000-07:00

Dear Mom,Where to begin? I know the last several years have been incredibly difficult for you. They have been for all of us -- but for you especially. And I also know that I can be judgmental, pushy, and aggressive in my opinions -- especially when it comes to you. You: The warrior in my life. You: The omnipresent. I look at you as you are right now, today, and I see a strong, beautiful, and

Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of all children.

2008-05-22T07:02:00.000-07:00

I'm trying desperately to think of a story about my mother, one that stands out above all the rest. It's surprisingly hard. My mother is a fascinating woman - she's a twin, one of seven children who grew up dirt poor in the Cape Town projects known as the Cape Flats. She never graduated high school, never went to college, got married at 21 and had her first of two kids at 22.Except that to

The Box

2008-05-12T05:23:00.000-07:00

I must have been either ten or eleven. We had just moved into an enormous house. At least, it seemed enormous to me at the time. I drive past it on occasion now (it is no longer ours), and it doesn't seem so big anymore: just your average, suburban home. But I grew up in a little apartment above my father's dry goods store... so an actual house was something utterly alien to me. Yes, there was

My Mother, My Friend

2008-05-11T12:12:00.000-07:00

My mom and I had what I would call your average mother/daughter relationship when I was growing up. We never had the screaming and slamming doors fights that I occasionally witnessed between some of my friends and their mothers nor did we have the close "sit down with a cup of tea and chat" mother-daughter bond that I knew could exist. We had our disagreements but they were typically

Happy Mother's Day

2008-05-11T10:35:00.000-07:00

To all the Moms who take time from their busy days to contribute their stories--I wish you all a very loving and relaxing Mother's Day.

Reborn

2008-05-05T13:25:00.000-07:00

The infant stirs, not yet awake but partially aware. It dreams lush dreams of ancient seas and warm sun, of creatures great and small, of plants and insects and other things for which it does not yet have a name. Its eyes flutter under translucent lids, preparing for their time to open. Occasionally it feels warm on the inside as well as out, and this is love, though it does not yet know that

The Missing Reel

2008-05-05T09:26:00.000-07:00

I know it should go without saying, but my mom fucking rocked. She was my compass, my financial advisor, my life coach, and my road dog. She was the only one who understood how vitally important it was to be among the first to see a new movie on its release date. Catching midnight shows were commonplace and didn't seem to faze her in the least. We both new when “New Movie Tuesday” rolled around,

Architecture of a Skeleton

2008-05-02T23:08:00.000-07:00

My boyfriend has died. I am just barely nineteen, he was in the middle of being eighteen, we were deeply in love, I thought he was the one... and all of a sudden, he just vanished. His body is still here, decomposing under the cold, dark Earth... but his soul and his livelihood are lost to the winds. In the weeks after, I spent many lonely nights huddled in our garage that has always been

I'm Sorry I'm Late, But You See...My Mom Exploded

2008-05-02T20:04:00.000-07:00

What happens when you stop? Suddenly the noise you are a part of becomes the back drop to your life. The cartoons, the coffee brewing, the shuffle of your family members and their infinite requests—all a back drop to the feelings suddenly apparent within. Those feelings, the sensation of me—calm amongst chaos, chaos amongst calm, with some ever apparent new unwelcomed stranger within that is

May Theme: Mom's the Word

2008-04-30T23:25:00.000-07:00

It's fairly predictable to dedicate May's theme to Mothers, but I didn't just choose it because of Mother's Day. May's theme is mostly inspired by a number of my friends who are either on the cusp of motherhood or have recently welcomed new members to their families. All this excitement made me think of my mother, grandmothers and great-grandmothers. I can say without exaggeration that I am

Tall Tale from a Short Girl

2008-04-29T20:00:00.000-07:00

It was a dark and stormy night… Oh wait – it was bright and lovely afternoon. (Gotta admit, the first set up is a lot sexier.) I had hopped the T headed for a date in Harvard Square. This was an online thing so the plan was non-commital hot beverage consumption. Brice was a six-foot-eight-inch tall non-profit consultant who obviously didn’t get the memo that he was supposed to be a point

Hell in a Hand Basket

2008-04-22T23:41:00.000-07:00

The neighborhood was going to hell in a hand basket, and Mrs. Thompson blamed Walter for planning everything so poorly that she had ended up here to begin with. When they had first moved to the little apartment, there were just middle class (but respectable) white people around. Now, all kinds of people wandered around the neighborhood, acting like they owned the place and nothing was out of

Behind Closed Doors

2008-04-22T13:09:00.000-07:00

When my family moved to Saint Charles, I was 5 going on 6 years old. After careful research and planning, my parents had decided on a kid-friendly neighborhood within walking distance of what would become my grade school. Once we moved in, I was delighted to learn that my neighborhood was chock full of kids at or around my age to chum around with. And chum we did. Lemonade stands, Freeze Tag,

And The Lord Said, "Go Sox"

2008-04-10T13:50:00.000-07:00

I never cared for baseball. America’s Pastime is and forever shall be football. Thanks for playing baseball. Take your mitt and fuck off into the cornfield.Growing up, I focused mostly on kicking and hurting: soccer, karate (not the cool sounding kind, the pay for a belt kind) and wrestling. I played competitive baseball for one year. Being a tiny tike, I had no strike zone. I was often

Growing Pains

2008-04-10T09:17:00.000-07:00

I don't know how many times over the past couple of years I've wondered: How did it come to this?I've had a variety of unusual neighbors over the years. When I was a child, we moved fairly frequently, and usually across oceans. So I never really had a chance to get to know my neighbors, until our final move back to the States. And then our neighbors were a strange lot - we had a hippie couple

It Only Takes One Douchebag to Screw It Up for Everyone

2008-04-09T13:38:00.000-07:00

I was 23. A fresh-faced stockbroker right out of journalism school. (Well, what else do photojournalists do to make a living? Don't you judge me.) And I was purchasing my first home. A condo, to be exact.It was perfect. Located in my favorite little mountain town, right off the Blue Ridge Parkway, with a network of hiking and biking trails -- literally -- right out of my back door. An end unit.

Memory Lane

2008-04-06T10:14:00.000-07:00

I have no stories to tell of eccentric neighbors, no tales of odd people or strange happenings. But I have a story to tell. I have the story of the neighbors of my youth, the story of the people who defined the word neighbor to me.I will never have neighbors like the neighbors I had growing up on Virginia Avenue, of this I am sure. It was a small, quiet street in the city of Lancaster only

A Face to Meet the Faces That You Meet

2008-04-05T17:53:00.000-07:00

"Good morning, Peter!" Our part-time doorman, a middle-aged Chinese man who commutes in from Queens before I leave for my job is sweeping up the sidewalk out front, smoking a cigarette. I love the way that he smiles with his eyes and agressively nods his head up and down when I greet him.The tall and lanky owner of the café to my left and the ice cream shop to my right walks between his two

Mom, Mrs. Slutty is at the Door!

2008-04-04T17:36:00.000-07:00

A few months after we moved to Iran, my aunt, uncle and two little cousins moved out of our apartment where they had been living in our absence and we moved in. We lived on the first floor, in the middle unit of a 12 unit building. And while my parents rarely let us out of the house except for school, the neighbors provided us with plenty of entertainment. None more than the ever scandalous

The People Under the Stairs

2008-04-03T10:47:00.000-07:00

I've lived in my increasingly expensive apartment complex for more years than I care to count. In my time here, I've seen tenants come and go. I've greeted them and smiled the "God, I don’t know your name so please don't talk to me because that would be kind of awkward" smile when we would see each other leaving or coming home from work or some other event that took them outside the confines of

April Theme: Neighbors

2008-03-31T21:12:00.000-07:00

I have already been getting questions about April's theme; aren't you an enthusiastic bunch!A few New Rules and Announcements: Your (Neighbor) stories can be fictional, biographical, an incident that someone you know encountered or any combination of the above. Please use the Labels Section to make it easier to find your stories. Things like your name, the month/theme and any other descriptor

Eight Months, Two Weeks, and Three Days

2008-03-31T15:08:00.000-07:00

Eight months, two weeks, and three days. If I had a calculator and even the slightest ability to add, subtract, and multiply, I could probably break that figure down into days, hours, minutes and seconds. But, I’m not very good with the maffs. I do know that’s roughly two weeks shorter than my son’s gestation period. It’s also the amount of time it took me to realize just how truly difficult

It Wasn't a Trip, It Was a Journey

2008-03-31T00:26:00.001-07:00

I have never been fond of Mehrabad Airport. Coming or going, it fills me with anxiety because unlike any other place I know, it marks new chapters in my life.In October 1991, I was preparing to retake the entrance exams for university. Getting accepted as an English major the first time around was not significant enough; I needed something more grounded and viable--at least a pharmacy or dental

Travlin' Girl

2008-03-30T18:41:00.000-07:00

Travel used to terrify me. Getting lost. Being broken down on some dark, secluded road. Missing flights, stranded in a strange city. Muggings. Plane crashes. All manners of horrific incidents (like limb loss) occurring somewhere no one speaks English. These were the bars of my gilded phobic cage. I was content to never travel far beyond the safe and familiar confines of my own state.

Arts and Sciences

2008-03-30T13:35:00.000-07:00

I have no idea what motivated my mom to choose dance lessons when my nursery school teacher suggested that I have some sort of extracurricular stimulation. I was learning quickly and the teacher thought I would benefit from some extra challenges. My mom could have chosen piano lessons, tennis lessons, gymnastics (although they did all come later) but she chose to call a local dance studio. I

Ode to My Penis

2008-03-29T22:12:00.000-07:00

I refer to myself as a warrior-poet, because it sounds more mysterious and less douchebaggerous than explaining that I write screenplays, one-acts, theatrical productions, short stories, poems, and nonsense. But I earned the sword and pen. Entirely by accident. I went to a poetry reading once. Because a friend asked me. And she was hot. Not just physically, but

Found Myself In A Strange Town

2008-03-28T07:51:00.000-07:00

WARNING: THIEVES OPERATE IN THIS AREA --THE MET--(small plastic table-topper looking thing next to the 'kerb')I'm walking down Oxford Street in central London back towards the Tavistock Hotel in Bloomsbury about 1:00 am on a Sunday night in March 2000. Since it is past midnight my all-day tube pass has expired and I don't want to pay another pound fifty to get a ride, so that's why I'm walking.

Once upon a time...

2008-03-27T12:33:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time there was a boy.A boy who loved boyish things... he loved playing with action figures, and little league baseball. He loved his Mom and his Dad, and his sister... well... he didn't hate her, I suppose. He loved puppies (though he was never allowed to have one), and kittens (though he wasn't very good at caring for them), and snakes and bugs and playing in dirt.He loved sledding

Over My Dead Body

2008-03-26T15:26:00.000-07:00

I jumped.Seconds before I hit the icy water, I changed my mind. I wasn't ready for the impact, or the awkward way I entered. By the time I opened my mouth to scream, cold mountain stream water rushed in, taking the place of precious, precious air. My eyes swam; I only saw a murky blue-black. My lungs gasped. My arms flung about, fingers desperately trying to find a cling-hold on the slippery rock

Nut in a Shell

2008-03-26T09:11:00.000-07:00

I don't remember much about my father. Really, the only things I have to remind me of him these days are faded photographs. Sepia colored memories of someone I never really knew. I've spent hours scouring my memories for a sound, a smell, something that would trigger a recollection of a father son moment. Nothing. No summer days spent playing catch, no rough housing on the living room floor, no

Frogs, Death, Springtime

2008-03-25T15:57:00.000-07:00

My story is about Spring. This in itself is unusual as Springtime has never held any traditional meaning for me. It never seems to arrive spectacularly in England, it creeps in late and half heartedly melts the morning frost; too embarrassed to make a real show of itself. Spring for me has never meant skipping lambs and blooming crocuses – shouting in purple and orange, their colours reflected in

March's Madness

2008-03-23T12:23:00.000-07:00

This is Open Mic Month. Tell me a tale about anything at all. Spring, Holidays, your best friend, love, or birthdays. If you're not ready to Tell a Tale, then comment on the stories you read. I love comments almost as much as I love stories.

About These Tales

2008-03-23T11:21:00.000-07:00

This is a blog. A blog where people share their stories every month, on a suggested theme. A little bit like an online stage, where you can tell your story in your own voice with your own flare for everyone to delight in. Sure, you could do that on your own blog--but this is more like a gathering.This is only the first step of where I'd like to go with this blog and eventually, I will be