The Well

I see my past deep within the murky waters of the well.

A past that I can't physically touch, for it only lives in the deep abyss of my mind.

But ever so often, the images rise and fade
Blend in and out
Concave and converse
And distort beyond recognition.

I see the faces of those who loved me
And I see the faces of those long gone
I see the faces of those who didn't judge me for being
Too Fat
Too Skinny
Too Dark
Too Light

But in their minds I was just right.
They are people I recognize
Their blood flows thick and warm through my veins
The connection bone deep
More real than pure life itself
And they are calling me
Beckoning me
To look down into the waters and see them in the well.

As I look there the image merges into a reflection that I recognize, although I don't consider it as much as I should.

Familiar eyes
Lips
Nose
Face

The reflection is one I recognize
It is an image of me...
Of course it is me:
For I am the amalgamation of all those who came before me.

From Women of Color Workshop, 2011... 5 minute writing prompt: Write a story about looking into a well and what you see.. .

Wednesday Words...

So...

I have gotten a couple text messages about posting...

Hmm...

Sorry. I've just been busy. And it is such a BEAST loading up pictures these days. Come on, Google engineers. DO BETTER.

Anyway, I went to the doctor today. I am tired of all these appointments, but I am thankful for them. And for good insurance.

I like this hematologist doctor. She makes me want to go read a book on blood so that I can at least have an adult conversation with her.

I need a couple more iron transfusions. Sigh. I feel perfectly fine. I feel the same way I felt before the doggone first ones. I am not tired at all. Wasn't tired in the first place. My rhematologist is just finnicky, and I guess that is a good thing in the long run.

Anyway I get into work around 2 (yes, could've been in around 12, but I went home, cooked and watched some television... you would do the same if you lived 4.6 miles from the job), and the Excellent Boss is gone for the day.

And she left Lieutennant Commander By in charge.

O_O

Now, first of all, I was glad I wasn't around to be left in charge. Noboby likes being in charge. As a matter of fact, we have a new youngster in our group, and I am lobbying for her to be left in charge along with the other youngster.

Us old folk ain't got time for all that.

Anyway, I work with an arm of the military who are under the Surgeon General. Lieutennant Commander By is a part of that.

Lieutennant Commander By is in charge.

What's interesting about this is that this guy has been gone for the 6 weeks.

Why?

Because he tore his Achillees Tendon.

He was out on the basketball court, trying to out living his Michael Jordan dreams, and he messed himself up.

So now he is back... in full military uniform, with a boot on.


(Couldn't be me. I would wear some sweats. And pin my ranking on that).

I amble on in to work, and see that he is in charge. And on top of that, I only came in to do about 15 minutes worth of work. I would be done after that. But my back-up did the work, so I would be... idle.

Sigh.

I should've called in. That way, I could've taken the full day off.

So I whined to Lieutennant Commader By about this. At the same time, I was talking trash.

"You are disabled. Why are you in charge?"

I didn't think he should be doing any extra work. And the "in charge" thing is stressful.

"Dude, I could punch you in your eye right now... *ladylee doing hard fist fight motions*... and knock you out! And if you get up and try to catch me, you'll fall smack out on the floor!!"

LOL.

That got a big laugh out of negroes in the general area.

After joning him so hard, he still said I could go home.

But I didn't. I am still around here. I wanted to leave because it was bright and sunny outside, and I wanted to go grocery shopping and errand running. But alas, it's all ugly and cloudy outside right now.

And who wants to go grocery shopping and errand running in that? Not I!
I may leave at 5:00 pm. Sure, it's all trafficky then, but I will get home at a decent time.

So I have been here. Not doing much, and still joning on By...

"You around here walking like Fred Sanford! HA HA!!"

"That's a Storm Trooper boot, like in the Star Wars!" I said. "All you need is the matching helmet!!"

"Bring me Luke Skywalker," I hollered. I then began to run like a Storm Trooper.

I took another picture. I told him to point at his boot, which he did.



I bet that was the exact move he was doing on the basketball court. You know, the whole crossover

Now, he went through all that on the basketball court... I hope he made that basket. He is too short to slam dunk, but I hope he made the basket, and took somebody down with him!

I am glad the good Commander is back. He works so hard, and when he's back in the lab, he has the jazz music blasting!

I always walk into the lab on the particularly festive jazzy days and say "I'd like to order a drank. A cosmopolitan, or a Scotch on the rocks. And what band's playing tonight?"

He's either playing jazz, or some Sade. I swear, I love some Sade, but we got a little weary of her for a moment.

I always kid with him that if Sade would walk in the room, he would scream like a woman!

He even went to her concert when she was in the ATL last year, and he was all over in our cubicle area in giving us the highlights!

So I hope his recuperation goes well.

I don't understand why he's at work though. His leg is all jacked up AND it's his birthday!

"Couldn't be me, dude," I said. "I wouldn't roll up in this camp until I could get out and cut the grass and climb the trees and cut down some limbs or somthing like that. Not I, sir. And on my birthday? OH NO."

"I got tired of being around the house," he said.

I shook my head. "Whatever! Not me!"

He just left to go home.

"Oh no," I said to my cubicle mate CowgirlCre. "Is he trying to drive with that boot on? Let me know, so I can get out of his way!"

LOL

It is good that he's back at work. I guess some are more dedicated than others.

I could learn a lesson or two from The Commander!

Happy Birthday, By!

Friday Freestyles

What a week.

A most interesting week at that.

And it's about to be over.

It's Friday. And the only thing that would make it better was if it was a payday.

Out of a 40 hour workweek, I think I've only worked maybe 25 hours. And we are not busy at work at all, so it's been a lot of clock watching and trying to keep busy.

I've had a dentist appointment and some doctor's appointments. I like my appointments at 9:30 in the morning or around 3 or 4 in the afternoon. Didn't work out like that this week. There is nothing worse than having a doctor's appointment in the middle of the day. It stresses me out to go to work, go to the doctor, then come back to work. That's just wrong. Especially 3 days in a row. So I just lounge around at home until it is time for me to go.  At least the dentist appointement was at 4 in the afternoon. So I could work then leave early and go.

I know I have driven a good 200 miles combined in Pam and Lucy Jr. over the past 3 days. That's odd, since I fill my gas tank once every 3 weeks. But I made it through the week. I have one appointment next week. That's cool. None of this 3 appointments a week business ever again.

Alright. That's probably some ol' high class problem type of thing. But it's just what's on my mind right now. I have found that I don't like when my schedule is topsy-turvy. I like a calm schedule. But it's not always that way.

Lunch of the Week.  Me and my vegetables.

That was a small salad I needed some stir-fry to balance that out. I had the itis after eating. The itis and gas!

Salad with my mock chicken salad.

That was good... and pretty. For some odd reason, I've been dicing pineapple and adding it to my salads. Along with nectarines. It does give the salad a zing!

I get my mock chicken salad at Whole foods. $11 a pound. I usually get 5 dollars worth and I make it last for a good week. Good stuff. It's their best seller over in the deli department.

Quote of the Week. I posted a story titled I, John Smith yesterday.  Rhapsody Phoenix left an interesting comment, from which I cull my quote of the week.

"So many of us can't see the forest for the trees, so often mistaking the weeds as trees."

My goodness. Ain't it the truth.

Song of the Week. This is my official cubicle song of the moment... I plan on harassing cubicle mate the CowgirlCre with it on a daily basis.



Dude is killing it with the picolo solo... or recorder or flute... whatever that is. He is getting down!

I was snapping my fingers extra hard to that.

Cowgirl Cre was not as enthused as I was. eyes were wide as saucers when I played that.

"You just need the Partridge family bus to pull up out front!"

LOL! It does sound like something off the Partridge family show. Some of you may be too young to remember that.

It is the prostitute Wendy's theme music in one of the episodes of Breaking Bad. It was playing while she was walking from car to car handling her, uh... oral business.

Hmmm.

Anyway, my REAL song of the week. Some Jill Scott in Paris!



I like that song. It's the long long version!

I think I will harass Cowgirl Cre by singing that song right there. She doesn't seem to mind that much.

That's all my freestyle thoughts for the week.

It's suppose to rain here in the ATL this weekend. Reports are saying that we will get upwards of 3 inches of rain. I don't see myself getting out in that. It would be nice to go to the library.

I really want some sunshine. Really.

But whether it's a beautiful sunny day or a dreary rainy day... I am more than thankful for the day itself.

With that said... Have a good weekend. By design and on purpose.

I, John Smith

She threw it all away.

The ring I, John Smith, bought for her - she threw it away.

The ring I saved a whole year for-- She threw it away.

Who does that?

What kind of woman takes something so valuable and throws it away, like it's just another piece of trash?

I'll tell you what kind of woman...

The woman who left me, John Smith, for him...

Some guy she met at a biker bar.

"He's a badass," she said. "As a matter of fact, his nickname is Bad Ass. And he's nothing like you, John."

Mr. Bad Ass knew how to show her a good time, knew all the best bars and hangouts.

And I, John Smith, just worked ten, sometimes twelve hours a day.

I was boring, not an ounce of fun to be had.

Just boring John.

Even my name was boring, she'd said.

John Smith.

And now, here we sat in a hotel lobby, some ten years later, talking.

That guy, Mr. Bad Ass, was long gone, locked up for attempted murder and armed robbery.

And she waited for hours to get some time with me, just to let me know that she'd come to her senses, seeing how after four kids and far too much trouble that maybe, just maybe, I, John Smith, wasn't so bad after all.

And it didn't take much to see that. Afterall, she'd seen me, John Smith, on all the morning news shows.  She'd even watched me at the White House, walking casually through the rose garden chatting with the President. She had the same questions the President had. She, like he and everyone else, wanted to know how I did it all and what my secrets to success were.
And she saw me, just like the entire country that day, respond that the key to it all was letting go of those who didn't think you were good enough. And letting go of those who couldn't and wouldn't support your dreams.

And it meant having enough sense to know that anyone who throws it all away wasn't really meant for you in the first place.

And she wanted to tell me that that day that she'd heard every word I said, loud and clear.

She wanted to tell me that I was right.

I, John Smith, was the best thing that'd ever happened to her.

And in her quiet moments she was haunted by sad memories of how she threw it all away.

I sat quietly and listened to her every word, and I watched the tears fall like rain from her eyes.

At that moment, I knew that I, John Smith, was a perfect catch...

For once in my life, I was the one that got away.

And that right there?

That very realization?

It made my day.



....from Women of Color Writing Group, April 2012,

Writing Prompt: . Write a story that begins with "She threw it all away". (7 minute time limti)

Street Views

I live pretty close to Downtown Atlanta...

On a "clear" day, you can see the gold dome of the capital from my block.

(Yes, that's as clear as it get most days).

That's around 1.5 to 2 miles away at the most.

And there it is again, just a little closer, right before I make the turn to get on the freeway for work.

Just a couple of random pictures of my downtown. I rarely notice it, but I saw the sun beaming off the gold roof of the capital and decided to take a few pictures.

Now if I could just get the same pictures on a day when there is no fog or smog!