Once More, From the Top

Hello all!

Anna and I are back, and yes, a little behind on our travel blog, but we'll get it finished. I wanted to write a post stating that I was going to start posting assignments again, if anyone is interested. I think I'm going to take a different tact, however, and I hope it works.

We are all busy people, I know, so I'm thinking of taking a step or three back from where we were before. I want to get back to the basics of writing exercises. I want your input and ideas, but for the next little bit I'm going to post assignments instead of taking turns. We'll see how that goes for a bit if that's okay with everyone?

I want this to be a learning/growing/fun thing for everyone... and something that everyone has time to do. If I get my ducks in a row tonight I will post the assignment, otherwise it will be tomorrow or Wednesday.

I don't know if there is a way for everyone to subscribe to the blog (those who are interested of course) so we know when a post has been made. Does anyone else know?

ANYway... I'm back and wanting to get this going again, all who are interested are invited to join me :)

9/2 Assignment

Taking a cue from the Saturn Vue commercials lets rethink American. Bigger is not always best. This assignment will be short and sweet.



Compose Four individual Haiku, one for each season of the year.



And as a refresher:



Haiku is a poetic form from the Japanese culture. Haiku combines form, content, and language into a meaningful, compact form. Popular themes include nature, feelings, or experiences. Usually composed of simple words and grammar. The most common form for Haiku is three short lines. The first line usually contains five (5) syllables, the second line seven (7) syllables, and the third line contains five (5) syllables. Haiku doesn't rhyme. A Haiku must "paint" a mental image in the reader's mind. This is the challenge of Haiku - to put the poem's meaning and imagery in the reader's mind in ONLY 17 syllables over just three (3) lines of poetry!

Example:

Winter:

A Bleak landscape barren

until a blanket of white

snowflakes fall silently

A Pas Most Faux

Every now and then something happens in life that, if you were thinking rationally, you would realize has happened to a lot of people. But in the heat of the moment, you aren’t thinking rationally, and at that moment, you feel like the biggest idiot in the world.

Walking into the wrong bathroom is one of those times.

Now, what makes this story worse is that I wasn’t even looking for a bathroom! No, I was ever so innocently trying to get to class. A class that, due to some evil conspiracy on the part of the building designers, was right next to the men’s bathroom. I mean, what’s up with that?

Granted, I could have been more careful. I do tend to walk around with my head in the clouds a lot, not really paying much attention to where I’m going. And I wasn’t entirely used to attending class in this particular building. But I could have sworn that I had counted the number of doors properly, and without checking to see if there was an actual, ya know, room number above the door, I just blithely pushed my way inside.

One step was all it took to realize that I had made some sort of mistake. I looked around, and froze. Why, this was not a classroom! I can be quite brilliant, you know. It took only a split second to figure that one out. Sharp as a tack, I am.

Now, this would have been a good time to bolt out of there, but no. I stood transfixed. It’s not that I had never been in a men’s bathroom, before. My brother had taken me into one in a restaurant when I was a kid, after making sure it was empty, to show off some fancy schmancy decorating that had been done in there. I’d been behind enemy lines before, damnit! I was no raw recruit! No, I was glued to the floor because my mind just couldn’t accept the fact that I had not walked into a classroom.

That’s when it happened, that point of no return. I’d been spotted! There was some guy, and he looked at me! Gasp! I dropped my eyes to the floor. That’s what you’re supposed to do, you know. If you don’t make eye contact, they can’t see you. It’s scientific fact. I’m sure of it.

That small movement galvanized me into action. Stammering some unintelligible apology, I backed out of the bathroom, and hurried to class, where I found a seat and sat in utter mortification.

Needless to say, the rest of that semester was spent compulsively checking and rechecking room numbers before walking through any doors. I never made that mistake again.

*knocks on wood*

Assignment 8/26 - 9/1 "Women vs The Public Restroom" - Kal

For this weeks assignment-I'm giving it to you this way since I only have reading power right now.

Women vs. The Public Restroom

I received an email (along with half of the english reading world) about the woes and throws of the public restroom. The misery this poor woman went through to "go" was just unbearable. By the time I got to the end of the story I was so angry with the previous user of the stall that I was ready to start a witch hunt! The seat was wet, there was no toilet paper, the floor was wet so she couldn't sit her purse down, and all of this happened after she waited in line until she was about to explode.

Honestly! Do we need to take this kind of crap in this day and age?! Why are we so shy about the men's restroom? Don't you think they would start waiting in line for the stall if there was a woman at the sink when they entered to use the urinal? You know there wouldn't be a line at the sink because they never use it. Ladies, if you want your time at the mirror-go to the men's restroom!

Well, I had a few thoughts about that poor woman: first why didn't she wipe the seat before she ever did anything else? Then she would have known that there was no toilet paper. And the seat would have been clean enough to sit instead of "assuming the [squatting] position." I don't understand how we can continue to teach our little girls that the toilet seat is filthy yet we allow them to touch grocery carts and everything in the store, including pocket change. After they handle everything in sight they pick their nose, rub their eyes, taste test samples, and open and eat their candy without a thought for all the filth they have contacted. Everyone is afraid of the toilet seat, yet we never lick our butts! I THINK THE TOILET SEAT IS SAFER!

Okay, here's my real fear of public restrooms: Once I was priveleged to have the blessed experience of creating a toilet paper tail. Unfortunately I was not in my own home, I was in a Kentucky Fried Chicken in Texas. A neighborly woman with her southern hospitality approached me and announced it to the whole restaurant. Thank goodness there were only two people in the place. The bad thing was there was a freak snowstorm and the only road through town was closed. I had to find a place to stay and there were no hotels. I stayed with one of those people and my tail was frequently a topic of discussion and laughter. I hate that place!

You do not have to tell your own experience, but the assignment is to tell of any memorable public restroom experience.

Kal's Eavesdropping

******* I am posting this for Kal because she informed me that her posting rights expired. I didn't know that could happen. I changed everyone to admin to hopefully stave off future expirations. If you find you are having trouble posting, please email me and I'll see what we can do. She should be back to posting her own soon. I will be posting her new assignment next. *******


I have read for the entertainment but have not contributed to the Scribbler's Nest. But I am working in ER Triage this week and I need some entertainment to keep me awake. I did not see anyone lick their phone, but I got caught eavesdropping. I tried to fake like I was not eavesdropping but it becomes so obvious when you repeat the same stupid task multiple times. One thing that got my attention was not the topic but the retelling of a story using "he said,..., and then he said,..., so I said,..., and so he said,....."

SAID is the topic of my eavesdropping trauma. I can't even tell you what they were talking about. I only remember listening and interjecting options for the word "said" in my mind. Then I started keeping "said" scores, and even predicting when "said" would be used next. I guess my eavesdropping lesson is two-fold: Don't use the word "said" too often or people will listen to your conversation for their sad "said" addictions. The second lesson about eavesdropping was the happy realization that if I don't want an eavesdropper to remember what has been said, all I have to do is bore them with redundancy and they will find a new entertainment.

By the way here are some suggestions for "said" subsitiutions:

accused clucked gulped pointed out snapped
acknowledged coaxed gurgled pondered snarled
added commanded praised sneered
addressed commented hinted prayed sneezed
admitted complained hissed proclaimed snickered
advised conceded hollered promised sniffed
affirmed concluded hypothesized proposed sniffled
agreed confessed protested snorted
announced confided imitated put in sobbed
answered congratulated implied puzzled speculated
approved continued informed spoke
argued convinced inquired quavered sputtered
asked corrected insisted queried squeaked
asserted coughed interjected questioned stammered
assured cried interrupted quipped started
avowed croaked quoted stated
crowed jeered stormed
babbled jested ranted stuttered
barked dared joked reasoned suggested
bawled decided reassured surmised
beamed declared laughed recalled
began demanded lied reckoned taunted
begged denied lisped related teased
bellowed described remarked tempted
bet disagreed maintained remembered tested
bleated disclosed marveled reminded theorized
blurted divulged mentioned repeated threatened
boasted doubted mimicked replied told
boomed drawled moaned reported
bragged mumbled requested urged
broke in echoed murmured responded uttered
bubbled ended mused retorted volunteered
bugged exclaimed muttered revealed vowed
explained roared
called finished nagged wailed
cautioned fretted nodded sang warned
chatted noted sassed went on
chattered gasped objected screamed wept
cheered gibed observed scolded whimpered
chided giggled offered shot whined
chimed in greeted ordered shouted whispered
choked groaned shrieked wondered
chortled growled panted shrilled worried
chorused grunted piped sighed
chuckled grumbled pleaded smiled yawned
claimed guessed pled smirked yakked


That said...I'm signing off.

Kalleen

Eavesdropping

So yeah, this is really late, the week it was meant to be posted, I heard one amusing thing, so thought if I waited longer, I'd hear something else, but that hasn't been the case so I must really be lame at eavesdropping, so I'll just put the one thing I did hear.

"I think if I was a serial killer, I'd want my name to be The Daylight Savings Time Killer."

to which the response was,

"You'd have to just kill twice a year, and make sure to set your victims watch back or forward depending on the time."

I'll admit that I said one of those lines, but it'll be more fun to figure out which one it was.

Assignment 8/19 - 25: "Hold on. I gotta lick my phone."

Well, folks, I think the title says it all...



No? Alright, I'll explain.

This weeks assignment, should you choose to accept it, is all about eavesdropping! I want you to keep those ears open, and jot down all the strange, amusing, interesting, or cool sounding things you hear. Why? Well, for several reasons, really. One, it helps with dialogue. Dialogue can be a tricky thing to write. The more you really concentrate on listening to the way people talk, the better your writing of dialogue becomes. Second, entire stories have been based on bits and pieces of overheard conversations. Wanting to fill in the blanks is a great way to get those creative juices flowing. Heck, you can even write down things you say, if you're inspired to do so. The point is, if you hear something that makes you think you can create a story about it, or write a conversation between two characters around it, then write it down.

And yes, the quote in the title is a real one, and was the inspiration for this assignment. ;-)

Heroes, Heroes Everywhere...But Not a Villain in Sight?

Young Fenton Marlow looked his father straight in the eye, and lied.

“A fox?”

Fenton gave an earnest nod. “A desert fox. I saw it sniffing around your artifacts, right over there. It grabbed it in its mouth and ran!”

The object in question was an electrum amulet, fashioned in the image of the mummy from whom it was taken. Etched over its heart was the hieroglyph of the Ba, believed to be the personality of the deceased, free to roam incorporeal during the day, but destined to return to its host at night.

“Fen,” his father began, in a tired, disappointed tone, and Fenton gave him a wide-eyed, hurt look.

“You don’t believe me?”

“I…don’t want to fight on your last day here,” his father relented. “If a fox took it, then so be it. If something else happened to it, I’m sure it will turn up before tomorrow morning,” he said pointedly.

“Can’t I stay with you?” Fenton asked. “You’re just now getting to the interesting stuff,” he said, motioning off towards the excavation site. Indeed, it had only been during the last few days that the burial chamber where the amulet had been uncovered had been breached. It was said to belong to a sorcerer, whose powers had helped the tomb’s Pharaoh gain great power and wealth. There had been a great deal of excitement over the initial discovery of the tomb, untouched as it was by archeologists and tomb raiders for so long. But it had proven to be rather disappointing, until they had found the sorcerer. General talk around camp suggested that the Pharaoh himself could not be far behind.

“You know you can’t. You have school in a week.”

Fenton sighed. “Fine.” Turning, he stalked off towards their tent. Behind him, he heard his father say again how nice it would be if the misplaced amulet were to resurface. He rolled his eyes. He knew it wouldn’t be. Once in the solitude of the tent, he pulled the amulet out of his pocket. It’s amber sheen seemed almost untouched by the millenniums. It couldn’t hurt to keep it, he reasoned with himself. His father’s team was sure to unearth piles of interesting artifacts from the tomb. One wouldn’t make much difference one way or another. And it would be something to remind him of this trip, and his father, while he was away at school. He tucked it carefully away in his bag for safekeeping.

The rest of the day passed quickly, and they were up bright and early the next morning. His father drove him to the Cairo International Airport, where he boarded a plane headed back to the States, and to his first year at Carvington Prep. Not a word had been spoken about the missing amulet.

A few weeks passed uneventfully as he settled into his new home. He kept the amulet safely hidden away, never wearing it, never showing it off. He did not want to risk one of the other boys stealing it.

Then news came of a freak cave-in at the tomb, and his father lost. The evening after the funeral, he took the amulet out of its hiding place, staring at it for a long time, before putting it on. He examined himself in the mirror as the amulet settled around his neck, and for a moment, it seemed as if his image shimmered. That night, he had dreams that made all his others pale in comparison. They were filled with images of himself, gaining power, influence, and money. What he could not earn, he took. It was all the same to him. In the morning, he awoke, exhausted, but feeling himself once more.

As time passed, those dreams fostered his growing ambition. He would make them a reality. He deserved to make them a reality. It was his fate. And the amulet was happy to oblige. He discovered that his words, especially after the sun had gone down, carried great weight with people. A few well worded suggestions on his part, and most people would do almost anything he asked of them. Stranger still was what happened when he went to collect money another student owed him. He had pounded on the door, and received no answer. He tried the handle, and found it locked. Impatiently, he wished he could get into the room, and suddenly he felt himself shift, almost melt away. It was disorienting, though not painful. He felt the oddest sensation of sliding under the closed door, and then he was shifting again, becoming himself once more. He scurried backwards, away from the door, before realizing that he was not in the hallway, but the room. Grabbing his money, he willed himself back to the hallway. He felt the strange shifting again, and found himself back in the hall. He smirked. That could come in useful.

Over the next few years, he honed his abilities. He gained greater control over his hypnotic powers, and his shape shifting. He graduated Valedictorian, an honor that he almost but did not quite earn, and was admitted into an Ivy League school, where he took a double major in business and political science.

His first big-time crime came during his sophomore year at the university. The local museum had bought a collection of artifacts that had come from the tomb that claimed his father’s life. The night before the exhibit was to open, Fenton made his move. Using his abilities to get into the museum, he took only one item. The Pharaoh’s scepter. As he was leaving, something caught his eye. Chuckling to himself, he took the object, and placed it where the scepter had lain, as a calling card.

BIZARRE MUSEUM HEIST HAS AUTHORITIES BAFFLED: claimed the local newspaper the next day. The media had a field day with the story, and had named the thief after the small carving he had left behind.

The Fennec Fox.

Super Hero

Real Name: Jennifer Seabrooke

Origin:
While swimming in the lake one night, a boat from the government testing facility went by dumping their barrels of waste in the lake, as they had been doing for years , not seeing her. Jennifer, hearing the splash from the boat and wanting to see what was dumped, swam over after the boat had passed and dove down into the water to try and find out what had been thrown over, intending to report whatever she found to the police. Finally reaching the bottom she felt around and felt the unmistakable shape of a metal barrel, however since it was dark she couldn’t see that a rock had ripped a hole in the side of the bottom of it and didn’t realize that she was surrounded by whatever was inside the barrel, hearing a sound from above she began to swim back to the surface.

Jennifer was greeted by the sight of the same boat that had been there earlier, and once spotted she was pulled onto the boat. Looking at the group of people surrounding her, she informed them that she was going to report what they were doing, at that some of them drew guns while one informed her she wouldn’t get the chance. Suddenly scared, she wasn’t comforted as all the people around her began to scream as their skin began to tighten and crack to dust while a sphere of water steadily began to form in front of her, obviously freaking out she jumped back into the lake, the sphere following her until it hit the lake and joined the rest of the water.

A few months and more strange occurrences later, she found that she could now somehow manipulate water, either from a lake or by pulling it from the air or from anything containing water, which she guessed is what happened to those people, and form the water into a sphere and control it however she wishes. She’s on the run and keeping hidden due to the ongoing investigation of the deaths of the crew on the boat and now uses her power to fight whatever crime she may come across, but mostly stays by the water dealing with polluters however she deems necessary.

New Name: AquaJen

Super Heroes Unite!

Name: Morelle Castanea (Truth Justice)

Age: Mid 20s in appearance

Powers: Manipulation of anything earthy :) She can make the dirt move around someone in a sandstorm/wall/rockslide/etc. She can also cause grass/vines/trees/etc to move and grow to her will (to make things beautiful or to trap the bad guys). If she locks her gaze with someone they can't help but answer her questions truthfully. She has to ask the questions though, it doesn't cause people to just spill their guts at random.

History of Gaining her Powers: Her family moved to Death Valley when she was in high school. She started getting more and more ill and weak until finally she died... at least everyone thought she died. Her family had decided to move back to New Jersey (The Garden State), so they had her funeral and took her back with them to bury her in the family plot. Her coffin was made of pine, her family not having much money. They also had odd ideas on what was "traditional". They had it embossed and engraved with vines and flowers and all manner of green growy things because she had always loved them.

Once she was back in the furtile, moist soil where things can actually grow, she started to get stronger. It wasn't long before she woke up and found herself in her coffin. I would like to say she kept her cool and behaved as a seasoned Super Hero, but she wasn't one and so she didn't. She screamed herself hoarse and then panicked for a few hours. It finally sunk into her wild mind that she hadn't run out of air, and in fact didn't feel claustrophobic at all.

She did a few deep breathing exercises and calmed down. Feeling an odd affinity with the dirt around her, she started concentrating on it and willing it to move. Now before you laugh or roll your eyes, tell me what -you'd- do after finding yourself buried alive.

As you can probably imagine, the earth moved for her and pushed her coffin up so it was level with the ground. With a few powerful kicks she had the top opened and she climbed out. If she had needed any more proof that she was a superhero, she had only to look around the cemetary and see that no one had noticed her huge commotion. She thought for a moment about what she should do. Coming to a decision she waved at her coffin sadly, sending it back to its rightful place, 6 feet under.

She went home, but couldn't think of a way to break her resurrection to her family and so with even more sadness than to her coffin, she waved her family goodbye and set off toward her new life. She had no idea what awaited her, but walking deeper into a forest glade, she felt things would be okay.

What She's Up to Now: Wherever there is injustice, she is there... hehe seriously though, she likes to keep tabs on the goings on of the world and help out when she can. Otherwise, she amuses herself with tying litter bugs upside down and let them swing from the branches of trees for awhile... so they can think about what they've done. :P She's pretty awesome when she's in her element, but not as powerful in places like Death Valley.

Comic character assignment

The smell of old printers glue mingled with musty pages hung in the air as palpable as the strict silence which was enforced within the Library of the Abigail Proctor High School. With her black raven hair, and body of a dominatrix, the Librarian, Errin Alecto, seemed some sort of male fantasy, but few were brave enough to linger. Students withered under her looks, her eyes a frightening shade of electric red looked as if they were in a constant state of combustion. Her gaze could cut as if to the center of one's soul. No note or whisper went undetected, and her enjoyment of embarrassing students was no less mild than her fondness for punishing those who broke the laws of silence. Libraries are a place of reverence, for learning, and in her mind a place for collecting the lost loves, dreams, and intelligence of the dead.

While her reputation and image were undeniable, her sense of humor was just as quick. In a small town her self imposed isolation was kindling for conjecture, coupled with television lore, she was often called witch, but she relished those who had the courage or poor breeding to call her a bitch. The administration was shocked when she had asked for a cat to be allowed in the library, as much to perpetuate the image, as well as control the rodent population. Embarrassed, and not wanting to admit they were part of the local gossip; fearful themselves of retribution, whether real or imagined they consented. It was not as if Errin were young and unknown, but her arrival was forgotten, and few remained who remembered the fateful day when she had been left at the altar by her betrothed.

It was on that date when a spark of anger, kindled by false promises, that a fury was born. Outside the laws of good and evil, furies are elements of nature embodied with in a female form who punish rule breakers and criminals relentlessly.

Assignment 8/12-18 late

Sorry this is late, without seeing many posts for our last assignment I wasn't sure what to do, so I'm gonna go ahead and post this one and y'all can do this one after finishing the last one. ;)

I have to say I'm kind of a comic nerd, I read them, I see pretty much every movie that comes out based on a comic book and keep up on them, I say that because it's pretty much the reason for this weeks assignment.

So for this weeks assignment we're going to be creating another character, but this time we're making a superhero/villain, the choice is up to you if your person character is good or a bit more evil. I figure every good hero or villain needs a decent origin for why they are like they are, so I'm thinking a civilian name, name they use while in costume, what powers they have and how they got them, and why they decided to be a hero or a villain.

So there it is, hope you all have some fun with this one maybe. :)

HP Assignment: Jonas' Wild Ride

Ok, so I'll hope this works for the assignment, cause while writing it what I thought my original idea was kind of got away from me I think. Oh yeah, and it's kind of longer than I'd planned it to be too *blinks*





Looking out the window of the train, the young boy paid no attention to the person entering the compartment he'd had to himself thus far. "Do you mind if I sit in here?" the boy who just entered asked, getting a slight shrug and wave of the hand as a response before sitting down. "Thanks, I've been looking for someplace to sit for a while, my name is Manfred by the way, Manfred Nicholsworth." he said while extending his hand, which was ignored as the boy continued to look out the window while casually responding, "How nice for you." Manfred held his hand out for a moment more before pulling it back, "So do you have a name?" Without turning from the window the boy replied simply, "Jonas Jansson."



Manfred looked at the boy who was obviously from Sweden, what with all the sterotypical Swedish traits, he looked like he'd just stepped out of some sketch from a show doing a bit about Swedes, "So, while I was wandering through the cars I heard a rumor that Harry Potter is on the train." Jonas turned from the window for the first time and looked at him, "Oh? And I suppose that everyone is just so excited that he might be here?" Manfred nodded, "Well sure, if it weren't for him You Know Who might have never been defeated!" he said with a tone that made it seem he couldn't believe he had to state that fact. Jonas rolled his eyes slightly, "I can tell you're quite excited, I knew that I would have to put up with people like you, I just hoped it wouldn't be this early." Manfred looked at him with a look of confusion, thinking that he may have just been insulted, "What do you mean, people like me?" Jonas smirked at his expression, "People who believe that somehow a baby defeated Voldemort, what, did his parents give him a wand as soon as he was born?" he said, but at the mention of Voldemort, Manfred's eyes widened and he looked as if he may say something but simply fainted.



Jonas sat and waited for Manfred to wake up, which he did after a moment and promptly tried to run from the compartment, resulting in him bouncing off the closed door. "It's just a name, but I suppose I won't use it." Jonas said with a slight grin looking at Manfred scrambling on the floor. "You're one of those evil wizards! I'll just bet you can't wait to get into Slytherin with the rest of them!" Manfred said while scrambling back into his seat and forming a cross with his fingers which he held out towards Jonas, who just laughed, "Are you serious? You think I'm a Death Eater, not a vampire, you ponce," shaking his head he then looked at Mandred in all seriousness, "And no, I won't be joining Slytherin, most of that lot like to pretend to be evil, and besides, if that's what one is going for, why be obvious about it by being placed into Slytherin?" Manfred looked triumphant as he shouted, "Aha! So you admit you're evil! I've heard that all evil wizards are put into Slytherin!" Jonas rolled his eyes, "To think that they would all go into one house is ridiculous, so no, I think that I'll be in Hufflepuff, before you say anything, don't, I have it all worked out so that's where I'll be, besides I never said I was evil," as the train came to a stopp he looked at Manfred, "ah, looks like we're here."



Jonas watched as a line of students passed by the car, not standing up yet, Manfred still sitting and watching, as if he was afraid to turn his back to him, when he saw a young black haired boy with glasses pass, and he caught glimpse of a scar, "So, it is true, Harry Potter is here, I'll have to meet him at some point." he said with a grin. Manfred snuck into his pocket and pulled out a flask of water and began to splash it onto him, "I won't let you do anything to Harry Potter, everyone knows vampires and evil wizards both have a weakness to holy water!" Jonas looked at him in disbelief, "How did you even get accepted here? No matter, I know what you think, and you're wrong, just because..." he stopped as he got a splash of water in his eye and knocked the flask from Manfred's hand, "Just because I have my own agenda which may not be 'good' doesn't mean I'm trying be like You Know Who, fact is, I'm going to be more powerful than he was." Looking out the door, he seen that most the students had already left the train and moved towards the door, turning towards Manfred he seen that he had a necklace made of garlic and was trying to sneak it over his neck, "Oh for the love of...you know what? I was going to just let you be but I think it's for your own good if I don't see you again, so I'm just going to say one more thing to you." Manfred looked at him with a look of clearly false bravery on his face and spashed another bit of water into his face from his retrieved flask, "What might that be fiend?!" Wiping the water from his face Jonas looked at him and said quite simply, "Voldemort." Manfred jerked a bit before fainting again and collapsing to the floor, shaking his head Jonas hoisted him up and crammed him into the overhead compartment and locked it before leaving the train.

8/4 Assignment... late :/

Ok, sorry I forgot it was my week! Now, for those who know me, I get very obsessed when I find something that i'm passionate about.. and if you know me you'll know just how "passionate" I am about Harry Potter.

So for this weeks assignment you will create a character for Harry Potter. You can just describe the character, them getting their letter into Hogwarts, a scene of them interacting with known HP characters... whatever you want. This is pretty wide open.

Now, I'm doing this hoping all y'all have read the books, and if not at least have seen the movies and have a basic idea of that world. If you haven't done either... you don't deserve to live! You should be shot and hanged then burned! Heh. Sorry, that was my passionate side coming out. Anyway, have fun!

Embarrassing Moments: Debra

I am not an easily embarrassed person. Perhaps it's because I'm so used to making an ass of myself that I long ago stopped caring. I like to think it's because I've realized how futile and silly it is to be embarrassed. Either way coming up with some moments to share wasn't easy. However, there are two moments that stand out clearly as being painfully blush inducing.

The first moment happen in the fall of my junior year of high school. I was sitting in the drama teacher's classroom (which many of you have also spent countless hours in) getting ready for a play I was in. One of my best friends, Cynthia, was helping me with my make-up. We were surrounded by a room full of other cast and crew members, including the guy I was just starting a budding romance with. All of a sudden Cynthia bellows out, "Oh my gosh, Deb. You have SO MUCH hair on your face!!!" No, I'm not exaggerating, she bellowed it out! The entire room fell silent and everyone turned to look at us. Cynthia was totally unaware of this, but she could see the shocked look on my face and the fire in my eyes that must have told her I was about to kill her. So, what does she do? She bellows out, "I mean... it's fine! You're blonde! I'm always looking at your face and I've never even noticed! It's just that trying to put make-up on it... I mean..." I don't really remember what happened after that. I chose to remember that I calming got up and walked out of the room but I doubt that's even close to the truth.

The second embarrassing moment is entirely my best friend Heidi's fault. Heidi, Cynthia, and I were having a sleep-over one night and decided that we needed a treat. I think we decided to go through a drive-thru because I decided not to bother putting on a bra. Now, being amply chested, this is not something I would do but we weren't going in anywhere so I figured it would be fine. We got down to Heidi's car and I went to get into the front seat. I guess I sort of threw myself into the car or something because... well... my breast smacked me in the face. I don't know how it happen! I sat there, with the door open, rubbing my face. Heidi looked over and asked me what was wrong. I said in a very serious voice, "I just hit myself... in the face... WITH MY BOOB!" I was truly upset and those two just laughed and laughed!

What's shocking is that this wasn't the embarrassing part. No, the embarrassment came when Heidi told me a few days later that she had told the story to her whole entire family at dinner! I couldn't look her dad in the eye for years! Thanks, Heidi. With friends like Cynthia and Heidi I really couldn't handle any enemies!

My Embarrassing Moment

I've quite a few embarrassing moments, but I figure why not go back to one that happened when I was young, since those seems to be the ones that stay with you.

When I was six years old, my parents had an old camper, one of those ones that the top kind of lowers over the bottom half, and you had to turn a crank to get the top to rise so it'd be full size. Being my usual self I suggested to my friend that her and I go inside it and play, without raising the top, and the thing about that camper was if the top was lowered, you could open the door from the outside to get in, but opening it from the inside to get out didn't quite work.

We went in and looked around, it didn't take too long to get bored, it also didn't take long for the door to close itself and lock us inside. I'd like to say that upon finding the door shut tight that I remained calm and cool, but if that were the case I wouldn't be writing about it here, I freaked out. I started screaming and yelling and banging on the walls while my friend tried to calm me down, but that wasn't happening, I just went on screaming and pounding on the door.

Ten minutes later I stopped screaming and pounding on the door, that was when all the knowledge I'd learned from movies kicked in, and I knew what was going to happen, we were obviously going to die in there because we would run out of air. My new revelation didn't help matters of course, since then I became hysterical and started screaming at my friend that we were going to die and nobody would find us and we never even got to do any of the cool stuff like drive a car or any of the other stuff I'd heard about or seen on television. She tried to calm me down again but I wasn't having it, I was just crying and screaming at her that after ten minutes we were probably almost out of air and we should try to not breath as much as we were. Then I had the brilliant idea that I was going to punch out the window that I'd ignored til that point.

I got a few punches on the window before my friend stopped me. I wasn't happy, I was still in full panic mode so I yelled at her, asking why she stopped me, telling her we were almost out of air. I guess that fifteen minutes of my hysterical screaming, crying, and punching is all she could take, because her response was a slap right in the face. Now I never really thought that worked, "Hey someone's hysterical, let's slap them!", but apparently it works well enough, because I just stopped and kind of stared at her dumbfounded as she casually opened the window I'd been punching, then calmly shouted out of the open window that we were stuck in the camper, then within a few minutes someone came and let us out.

I'd had been embarrassed for letting the door close in the first place, but rather than take a calm approach, I just let my imagination run wild and got hysterical and just lost it. If I was claustrophobic it wouldn't be embarrassing, but I'm not, I just lost my cool and went on screaming and carrying on and had to listen to my friend tell all our friends at school how she had to slap me to calm me down and then "save my life" which was pretty bad at the time, but I guess looking back I can see the humor in it.

My Ears *STILL* Burn...

I was working at the jewelry store in the mall and I was probably 20-years-old. I had a crush on a fellow I went to church with. Tall, attractive, quiet, with that mysterious, you-know-you-want-to-get-to-know-me look about him. I had invited him over to my house , along with some other friends, for dinner and games one evening. I made from scratch everything on the menu, from the soup, to the decadent dessert. The night went rather well, although I guess he missed that it was dinner and games because he told everyone else that he had already eaten. He did, however try everything and the evening went rather well, I thought. He stayed until 1:30 in the morning for crying out loud! (and not everyone did that)

* * *

So a few weeks go by, I don't hear anything from him. I was sitting at work and it was kind of a dull evening. My co-worker asks me how things are going in the dating field and I say they are nil.

"No boys you're interested in?"

"Well, there's one, but I really don't think he's interested..." **explains the previous date**

"If he stayed that long it sure sounds like he's interested!"

Back and forth of "No, he's not." and "Yes, he is" -es.

"You should call him up to go hiking with us on Saturday. That's pretty open and not likely to be a scary thing."

"I dunno. I really hate asking guys to do something unless they're my friend already. I get all flustered and sound stupid."

"You'll be fine. Besides, it's not like it's actually a date. It's just a bunch of people going hiking."

**More deliberating...and then**

"Alright. I'll call him." I pick up the phone, dial, and wait. Palms sweating, face bright red as though I've been running in the hot sun.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is (name changed to protect the embarrassed) Jeff there?"

"Um...lemme check. Who is this?"

"Haven."

"Haven..?" pause as though he's waiting for an answer from someone else in the room. "Yeah, he's here. Hold on a sec." (slight laughter in his voice)

"Hello?"

"Hi, Jeff. This is Haven."

"Oh, hi."

"Hi. Um, some of us from the ward are going hiking on Saturday and I was wondering if you wanted to come along."

"This Saturday?"

"Yeah. We'd be leaving about 9:00 and getting back about 5:00."

"Oh...um...this Saturday? Let's see." Pause...seems like 10 minutes. ugh. "I have to work that Saturday. What time again?"

I repeated the times.

"Well, I don't think I can. No.....no...No...no...No...hmm....no...No....um No....no..." And he goes on like that for what seems like an eternity, but was probably only 30 seconds. But still, 30 seconds of "no"'s really isn't that great to listen to either.

My face was so red and I was so flushed and embarrassed that I was almost in tears. I GET THE POINT!!! ONE 'no' would have been sufficient. And then he says...

"So, how are you?"

Jaw drops and I'm speechless. It took me a few seconds for my brain to wrap around that question.

"Huh? Oh, I'm fine..."

"How's work?"

"Uh...fine."
More small-talk questions that I can't remember because I was too mortified to think straight. I get off the phone as quickly as I can and go try to salvage some of my pride in the bathroom.

My little heart (and pride) was squished that night. Needless to say I didn't even look his direction after that. Not out of mean-ness, but because of my feelings of utter stupidity and shame.

Embarrassing Moment by Glass Darkly

I'm sure there have been many times in my life when I have done embarrassing things, but when I sit down to think about a time when I really felt embarrassed its always the same(and some of you know this story already I'm sure)... The first time...

I was in Kindergarten. I remember vividly a lot of my thoughts and feelings at that age. I had been reading for a couple of years before I started Kindergarten and I remember being surprised and confused that I was practically the only person in my class who already knew how to read. There was a shelf with simple reading books that we were supposed to take home, at an average of one per week, and read them with our parents. Once we'd read them satisfactorily enough our parents would sign the paper that would allow us to bring them back to get the next book.

It was not long before I was bringing home a new book everyday to get passed off, and then soon after that I was allowed to bring two at a time. I finished the stack of books that was supposed to take the entire year in about 2-3 months. I felt good about that, I felt smart. School was easy, it was fun. I liked helping my fellow students when they didn't understand something. Now, it is cloudy whether or not they appreciated my help, but as everyone was generally kind to me I'm fairly certain I was at least tactful in my aid.

Anything to do with learning or teaching I was supremely confident, but there was a flip side to that confidence. At the tender age of 5 I had somehow developed the impression that I was fat. I would wear shorts when my mom would put them out for me, but I remember feeling very uncomfortable. When the choice was left up to me, I would wear pants... even though we lived in Phoenix, AZ.

She had made me a pair of wrap around shorts, I don't know how else to describe them. As the name implies, it was a piece of fabric that you would wrap around and tie at the side and it became a pair of shorts. I was a little worried about wearing them because they were shorts, but mom had made them so I wore them. At recess one afternoon while wearing this contraption, I was climbing on the dome shaped metal jungle-gym. I can't remember what it was actually called, but I'm hoping you get the idea.

I was a friendly child and liked well enough by my classmates that there were a number of them around me at this time. My memory is hazy on just how the side of my shorts became undone, but the fact that it had is crystal clear. I remember reaching up for the next rung and moving my foot to climb my way to the top when an odd sensation of a breeze followed by the unwanted feeling of fabric against my leg caused me to look down. I panicked and almost fell off in my haste to rectify the situation.

I recall no jeering, or taunting. There is no continued teasing weeks later in my memory. The only thing I do remember is that I was mortified that Cameron and Ben just might have seen my underwear, or worse... my stomach. Or even worse... more of my leg than was visible with the shorts done up. The fabric didn't fall off, and I believe I recovered quickly enough that no one saw anything. The event wasn't as dire as it could have been, but my reaction is set indelibly in my mind.

I am certain that far worse things have happened to me, far more embarrassing situations, but none have affected me to the degree that this one has. Perhaps I have come to terms with my very fallible self and so the retarded things I do just don't get to me, I'm not sure. What I do know is, as odd as it sounds to say it, I have never been more embarrassed in my life than I was on top of that jungle-gym in Kindergarten.

Like toilet paper trailing...

I'm not sure that embarrassment has a shelf life, but in retrospect I can't think of any really embarrassing situations as of late. I think back to blind dates and sweaty palms, and while certainly not the preferred way to meet someone, it can be a fun and thrilling way to meet new people. Not to view it with entirely rose colored glasses, it can also be down right creepy. The world is definitely filled with all kinds. I've had my fair share of bad haircuts, torn trousers, and pratfalls. In truth I have more regrets for things I've said a la string of profane expletives as I smash finger with hammer or find a stain on a favorite article of clothing after its been through the dryer and is thoroughly set. And all in all these things appear rather petty in the scheme of a grand and diverse plan. Worse still is my desire for fleeting popularity when I was in high school. I'm reminded of the all American play "OUR TOWN" each moment of our lives is a memory in the making, but these memories mutate over time; the edges become softer, and the once clear lens of fear, hormones, trepidation, and self importance, fades. As an adult, I understand the frustration of these characters, and that our time here is measured. I firmly believe our link in the human chain is based on the mundane day to day activities with our fellow man. Centuries from now I am sure to be forgotten, but in the life of a child, an abused spouse, or homeless vagrant I can make a difference. I won't pretend that I do this as often as I should, I don't seek out the poor the humble or the oppressed. I admit that I clip coupons and bargain shop so that I can pretend to be more affluent than I am, and try to impress those whose status appears better than mine. But appearances and judgements based on them are shallow.
I think of the recent headlines and how we build up celebrities to later tear them down, and politicians who have lived or profess to live in a moral majority. I admit I would like to enter a diatribe on the NJ Governor, but do not believe this the place. Human health and growth depends on making choices, sometimes we make correct choices and sometimes not, I am continually amazed how far Sanjaya made it in the previous AI season based on theatrics rather than talent. Was it not a singing competition? I think of our President and I pray for him nightly, because we have now entered an era where the world despises us. I am a full blooded and deeply patriotic American, but I do not believe in the unnecessary sacrifice of lives in Iraq. I am continually shocked at the amount of personal freedoms we give up daily so that we can shop in safety. Think of the Presidents message shortly after the attacks on New York, and Washington. GO SHOPPING!
It was a long road to return to this but hopefully 8 years of embarrassment is enough, but we chose this as a nation, let us to make the choice to return to a more noble and dangerous ground human rights for all. We take for granted the freedoms we enjoy daily, do not fight for a banner of democracy: a democracy is another term for a majority and a majority can be WRONG. Fight for freedom for all, for Darfur, for the hungry, for equal rights which includes homosexuals. I don't have to personally believe a behavior moral in order for it to be another's right. But I do have to let the world have the free choice to make its own decisions. Countless lives have been lost fighting religious wars in attempts to prove on which side God was fighting. Luckily he is the sole judge of our actions, but his myriad warnings as well as his expectations should unite us not divide us.

Assignment 5: Embarrassing Moment(s) (July 29-Aug 4)

Well, I guess it's Assignment 4...?

I hope there weren't too many of you rolling your eyes at the title of this next assignment. I think it's good to get out a little embarrassment once in awhile. It keeps us humble, and we can draw from our own experiences (good, bad, funny, embarrassing), to help our characters develop. So here's this week's assignment:

Describe for us an embarrassing moment, situation, date, etc. If it's short, do more than one. And don't worry. We won't laugh at you...to your face. ;)


I'm purposely making this a short/easier assignment as I know there are at least a few of us who have major things going on this week. So have fun with it!

Cheers!

Assignment... Assignments :)

Okay, I was going to try and post this a week ago so people didn't get confused, but obviously I didn't. :P I had sent this out in an email, but I think it got lost. I revised it a little (and skipped last week, giving it up for lent :P) So... to start today, here's the list of when its your turn for an assignment.

Hurt Family: 7/29-8/4
Banana: 8/5-11
Clever Name: 8/12-18
T. Fisher: 8/19-25
Kal: 8/26-9/1
GoodNEvili: 9/2-8 (Four Season's Haiku - one for each season)

Let me know if I've missed someone who's been actively posting. We'll see who's joined up once we get to Good's week and go from there, but this should last us a bit. I am hoping to have time to try Hurt's time travel posting idea so it doesn't look like I was as much a slacker as I really am :) and post my Show and Tell today.

(P.S. - Happy Anniversary, Poop)

Show and Tell: Debra

(Well, it's good to see I'm not the only slacker. Even so, I'm sorry it has taken me so long to get this one done. I should have worked on it sooner as I never have any free time on the weekends.)


I would like to introduce you all to one of my oldest and dearest friends. It's perhaps a bit odd that he and I would become so close. He's six years older than me and rather quiet but I love him more than I could ever even say. He's been there for me when I had no one else. He's been the one I've cried to about every fight my parents had,, every time I was picked on at school or chased home having rocks thrown at me. He was there for me when my father died. He comforted me when friends hurt me, through every bad break-up, and broken heart. His name is Blue and he is a blanket. I know it seems silly for an adult to still have a baby blanket and I don't care.


Blue was actually my sister's baby blanket but from the moment I first saw him tucked away in her closet it was love and I had to have him. Blue was never blue. He was white with a green and pink flower pattern and pink and green ties. I named him Blue Blankie because I liked the sound and thought it suited him.


Every time my mother would wash him I would sit in front of the washer and dryer until it was done and I could have him back. I slept with him every night, carried him to the dinner table, and even tried to take a bath with him. My parents once tried to hide him from me. They told me that he had decided to go live somewhere else. I knew they were lying, Blue would never leave me. I remember running around out in a rain storm calling to him and crying. I must have been three or four. My dad was standing on the porch yelling at me to come in but I wouldn't. I remember him coming down and picking me up and me pounding on him and screaming bloody murder, I had to find Blue! Once inside there was Blue, sitting calmly on the floor waiting for me. They never tried to take him away again.


I slept with him every single night. He went along on road trips, camping trips, sleep-overs. I couldn't bare to sleep without him in my arms. One day Kristofor, my husband, came home to find me clutching a still damp Blue and crying. He asked me what was wrong and I held up Blue and choked out, "Look at him! He's dying!" It was true. My poor Blue was in tatters. The green and pink pattern long ago worn away, the fabric all thread-bare. I had long ago stopped washing him in a machine but now even hand washing him was doing so much damage he was just falling apart. Kristofor slowly pulled Blue away from me and folded him up. He went into the closet and put Blue up on a shelf. "If you want to save him, you have to let him go. You can't sleep with him anymore." He was right. I didn't sleep for three days. That was five, maybe six years ago and I haven't slept with Blue since. He sits on his own shelf in my closet and every once in a while, when I'm sad or having a very bad day, I pull him down and breathe deep his musty smell.

**BRIEF INTERRUPTION ON HOW TO POST TO A SPEICIFIED DATE**

Okay, since some people don't get a chance to post their assignments within the specified time frame, here's a little trick to keep things neat and organized with regards to posting.

Now, as you're posting there are several options on the screen. If you look to the bottom of the text box, you will see a > arrow with a Post Options link. Click on it. It will give you the option to change the time and date of your posts.

So, if you're late posting, just click the Post Options and change the date to the Saturday before the next post..or the Friday, or whenever. Just so it's grouped together with other posts of its kind.


Clear as mud? Excellent! :)

Happy writing!


PS- Remember that posts are from Sunday thru Saturday, with the next assignment starting on Sunday.

I Wish I Didn't Have to Show You

We all have something we wish we could show, and other things we wish we didn't have to show. I'll tell you about the one I wish I didn't have to show. It was my passage from childhood into teenhood.
I was a skinny tomboy. The development of breasts was a traumatic experience because it signified that I belonged to the "weaker sex." They seemed so pronounced. I denied they existed and continued to do all the things I thought were not associated with them, like wear make-up, or a bra. One of my used-to-be-friends teased me about not wearing a bra in front of others who apparently noticed as well. So, I broke down and got my first bra on my birthday. I walked in the house after shopping and there were all my friends, male and female. "SURPRISE!" they shouted. On the wall was a huge sign, "Happy Birthday, KING TIT!" I hate those guys. That birthday marked a significant transition from showing my favorite toy in school to showing the world what I was really made of. That was the day I accepted that I was not only a girl, but a developing young woman. Ouch!

#3 Show and Tell : Haven

She walks into the classroom on Monday morning, dreading what people will think. And yet, a little excited to be the only one in class that knew what she was going to share. Actually being asked by the teacher to explain this made her little heart do flip-flops. She had a purpose that day; she was important.

When it came time for Show and Tell, she raises her hand, waiting to be acknowledged. When the teacher finally calls on her, she takes a deep breath, scoots her chair away from her desk, stands and walks to the front of the classroom. She turns to face her peers; fellow 5th-graders with their own hidden insecurities. Her insecurity, however, was not very easy to hide.

She clears her throat as she pulls a folded, crumpled piece of paper from her jeans pocket. Now, as her teacher was the obnoxiously OCD Dave Davies, Show and Tell had to be in the Who, What, Where, When, Why, and How format and take up at least two minutes, with question/answer period to follow if needed. It wasn't the time allotment she was dreading; it was the bombardment of questions and critical, judgmental looks and gestures she was sure would follow.

She unfolds the paper and starts to read: "Bell's palsy is a form of temporary facial paralysis resulting from damage or trauma to one of the two facial nerves. Each facial nerve directs the muscles on one side of the face, including those that control eye blinking and closing, and facial expressions such as smiling and frowning. Additionally, the facial nerve carries nerve impulses to the lacrimal or tear glands, the saliva glands, and the muscles of a small bone in the middle of the ear called the stapes. The facial nerve also transmits taste sensations from the tongue.



Bell's palsy occurs when the nerve that controls the facial muscles is swollen, inflamed, or compressed, resulting in facial weakness or paralysis. Exactly what causes this damage, however, is unknown. When Bell's palsy occurs, the function of the facial nerve is disrupted, causing an interruption in the messages the brain sends to the facial muscles. This interruption results in facial weakness or paralysis.

Bell's palsy is named for Sir Charles Bell, a 19th century Scottish surgeon who was the first to describe the condition. The disorder, which is not related to stroke, is the most common cause of facial paralysis. Generally, Bell's palsy affects only one of the paired facial nerves and one side of the face, however, in rare cases, it can affect both sides.

Who Gets Bells Palsy?
Bell's palsy afflicts approximately 40,000 Americans each year. It affects men and women equally and can occur at any age, but it is less common before age 15 or after age 60. It disproportionately attacks pregnant women and people who have diabetes or upper respiratory ailments such as the flu or a cold."

She looks around the room before she smiles a lopsided smile. "I have Bell's Palsy," she says. "Any questions?"

Show and Tell

I wasn't sure what I was going to show, my first thought was to be my usual jackass self and show off an action figure or some such, but I decided not to.

What I have to show might just look like an old wooden box with flowers and vines carved into it, and I suppose that technically that's all it is, just an old jewelry box, a little beaten up, the main design being mostly faded on top. It was my grandma's, I'd always see it sitting in it's place, never really knowing what was in it, I kind of thought of it like a treasure chest, who knew what it held, for years I wondered that.

Grandma passed away when I was 9, and I'm not sure why but I came to have the box, maybe the adults noticed I always looked at it, I'm not sure, but there it was, the "treasure chest" that I'd always wondered about. If it held anything, it was taken out, and I lost interest for a long time, just letting it sit, collecting dust.

I'd forgotten about it, buried under various clutter that I never picked up, until we had a house fire and somehow, this little wooden box managed to make it through, a bit darker due to the damage, but there it was intact. I'm a bit of a pack rat, and hang onto silly things, ticket stubs from movies, concerts, various little things I find amusing and such, I decided that I'd keep all that in the box. Not that anyone who would ever look through it would care that I seen Something About Mary at 12:35 am on 7/17/98, or that on Tue July 8 in 1997 I was at a Counting Crows with the Wallflowers concert, but I can look through this from time to time, and I see the tickets and other little things, and I remember it like it was yesterday, so I guess that I made it my own little treasure chest after all.

T's Show and Tell

A young woman leans forward, pulling a large green storage container towards her chair. Snapping off the lid, she examines the contents within.

The sound of a woman in labor breaks the still, summer morning air at the county correctional facility. The inmate is transferred to a nearby hospital, where she delivers a child. A girl.

The soft sound of Christmas music wafts through the air as the woman reaching into the box and pulls out an ornament.

A phone rings. A social worker has a ward of the court that needs placement. She’s been in an emergency home for a couple of months, but will need a long term home. The couple agrees to foster the baby.

The woman stands, smiling at her mother as she holds up the ornament for her to see. Her mother smiles back, a warm sense of understanding passing between them.

The child arrives at the couple’s home. She is pale, underweight, sick. She comes with outdated medicine. The foster mother immediately takes her to the doctor. The doctor looks grim. The child has failed to thrive. She fears mental and physical delays, prenatal drug exposure. She looks to the foster mother. “You aren’t planning on keeping this one, are you?”

The woman turns, moving towards the tree that stands in the living room corner. She looks the tree over, for the perfect spot.

The foster family works with the child. She gains weight, becomes healthier. The doctor is still skeptical, claims chronic developmental delays, but the family does not give up. The biological mother gets released from prison, gains visitation rights. The child has bonded with the family, does not take well to this stranger.

The ornament is large. It can’t be placed just anywhere. It is difficult to place it so that it will hang properly, as it must.

The foster mother leaves the room during one visitation. The child does not see her go. She looks up, finally discovering her gone, herself alone with the other woman. She panics, runs crying from the room and down the hall, searching. She finds the foster mother, clings to her. As they leave, the foster mother glances in her rearview mirror, sees the biological mother standing in the rain, watching them go. It is the last time she sees her. Later, they get a call. The biological mother has relinquished her parental rights, had asked them to adopt the child.

The woman finds a sturdy branch overhanging a bare patch in the tree. She hangs the ornament, stepping back to admire it, glittering in the glow of the Christmas tree lights.

It is December, and a four-year-old girl sits in Santa’s lap. Her mother smiles, tells Santa that it is a special day; they have just finalized the adoption of the child. Santa smiles, tells the child that he, too, is adopted. He reaches behind him, taking an ornament from the tree, and presenting it to her. It is a large snowflake, crafted from a thin, lacquered wood; lightly dusted with snow-white glitter, and with a shiny purple ribbon looped through one of the holes, to hang it on the tree. It is lightweight, but durable, serving as a reminder for over twenty years of just how lucky she has been in her life.

The woman turns back to where her mother sits, bending to kiss the older woman on the top of her head, her arms wrapping around her neck in a hug.

“Love you, mom.”

Show and Tell...

Show and tell is rather like a rite of passage for the elementary years, I don't remember them much after grade school. I think the last conscious memory of it is second grade? My family was rather shall we say below the poverty level during this time. I remember feeling incredibly jealous as the cabbage patch craze was beginning to sweep the nation; care bears, and mon chi chi, were also nominal stars within our classroom. I myself was never a recipient of fore said items, as gifts in our house were determined by holidays and were often necessary items like socks, shoes, and I even remember having to write an ingratiating thank you note to my Grandparents for underwear. It was not unusual to receive a wrapped and re boxed piece of second hand clothing from a cousin or even my one outgrown by my older brother, for a birthday present or Christmas gift.
As second oldest; items I outgrew would in turn be given to my younger siblings, or cousins in a long line of use. I don't remember an affinity to any one item but in retrospect it makes it harder to deduce singular family photographs as the clothing appears more as a stylish imprint than a personal reflection of choice. To clarify: an article of clothing in my family would remind one of the time it was produced or of its intended audience. For example you wouldn't say the orange footie pajamas belonged to Jason, my older brother as there are photographs of each child wearing the orange footies. (I secretly believe that all the photographs are of Jason and as each child grew the effort of tracking and scrap booking new achievements lessened with each passing.)

It was after one such display that I'm not sure if it was the want to be included that I anxiously told the teacher I wanted to be part of the weekly show and tell, or if I was trying to get attention from a classmate, I was a bit of a Casanova during the formative years. The playground was comprised of large construction grade tires in varying patterns. A different type of show and tell was often perpetuated within the reinforced folds of steel cables and rubber. My best friend at the time and cohort was a girl named Megan. Not that I can blame all of my problems on members of the fair sex, but I heartily believe that this may have been the motivating force. Hard to believe I was ever under such influence.

I'm sure there are a few of you who have many memories of show and tell performances, mine was a solo endeavor. So the memory is quite vivid. There were only two pieces of exciting news that were deemed newsworthy. Angelina one of my classmates had successfully played midwife to her pregnant pet and announced that 7 puppies would soon be available for adoption, her mother then opened a large box and several black and white balls of fur were carefully extracted. The puppies were paraded up and down each row of students and their frightened shivering bodies were manhandled by no less that 30 students. I suspect there was an ulterior motive as her mother also distributed a flyer which included a phone number and a black and white photograph of her view of the most attractive and hence therefore desirable puppy. I'm sure this had been her parents attempt to stave of the inevitable foray of dropping the puppies to the pound or an afternoon hawking them beside the K-Mart.

Compared to the miracle of birth, mine was less earth shattering, but I proceeded nonetheless. It was early march and a chill wind was still blowing in the early mornings as I walked to school each morning, but today I had awoken to find a brown paper package with my name as recipient. There were four other packages as well, each one addressed to a different child and posted from Pittsburgh, PA. This was a rare occurrence, there were no birthdays, Christmas and Easter had passed. The Pennsylvania address only added to the mystique as we didn't know anyone who lived there. Upon opening the box there was a note from my uncle who had recently been accepted to play football with the Steelers. Inside was a jacket with yellow sleeves and a black body, a team insignia sewn over the left breast. It was brand new and it was mine. Each of my brothers opened to find similar jackets for the Dallas Cowboys, the Oakland Raiders. Whether my uncle had meant for me to have the jacket of the team he was now a member of or by sheer coincidence mattered not I felt special, unique, and different. Perhaps I just wanted to share that feeling with the world. Perhaps we never change and are still searching for that feeling today.

Assignment 3: Show and Tell (July 15-22)

***One bad thing about doing our writer's group in a blog is that as late post come in the new assignment gets bumped down. So, I've decided to re-post this with a new date stamp so that it will be at the top (I hope).

Sorry I'm posting this late. I wasn't sure that it was my turn or if I should post a new assignment before everyone is done with the last one. I decided to just go ahead and post now so people could start on this one.

Show and Tell: Children in elementary school look forward to show & tell days eagerly. After all, it's the day that they can openly bring their special treasures to school and share them with everyone. The point isn't just to bring the objects to school, but to tell others about them, to share details that help others understand why an ordinary teddy bear or a banged up toy dump truck is something special. For your writing assignment, choose something for show & tell. Your job is to write a short something (story, poem, just whatever) that shows us the object and tells us why it's important to you. You'll need to use lots of details to demonstrate the significance of the object.

Horror Corn Maze by Glass Darkly

Okay, so I'm finally getting a second to brainstorm about the horror movie. This is just going to be a stream of consciousness kind of thing as I am already very, very late. I haven't read anyone else's so as soon as I post this I'll read and comment.

Does it really have to be a corn maze? :P So... I'm picturing this labrynthine "structure" of corn stalks. The grounds have been cursed/enchanted so that any who enter has a unique experience. The spell or presence draws out the character's greatest fears and makes them live/face them.

They start out together, but soon they start seeing things. The deepest horrors dwelling inside each mind springs to life for them in the maze. No one can see the other's horrors, they only see their own. Maybe I should start at the beginning... who are these people and how do they get there? Hmmm...

A group of apprentice (do they have apprentices?) historians/archeologists have been assigned the area of Ancient Native American Curses for their master's project. Six of them... yeah six is a good number... Their professor (who probably turns out to be a decendant of whoever cursed the maze in the first place) wants a unique presentation, bemoaning the unremarkable offerings of the last few years.

The suck-up, we'll call him Douglas (not Doug or Doogie, though some of his classmates refer to him as "UGH" behind his back), is all over the idea and is determined to spur the other five to feats of historian greatness. He starts researching the idea... as do the rest, but without the fanatic zeal that Douglas puts into his work... he comes across a vague reference of the site. He shares it with the others and they all agree after finding out more about it that it would be perfect for their project.

The paranoid perfectionist, Jacqueline, who would be a suck up if she didn't take so much time making everything perfect that she missed out on all the sucking up opportunities (gotta move fast with Douglas around)... thinks it is actually the perfect site, but is worried about how little is really written about it.

Breezy, free spirited Thomas, Tom-tom, Tommy-boy, Tomeister, the Tomster (who received the long string of nicknames from the studious Nigel ((yes a tad cliche, but I tell you its a million dollar name, baby! :) )) who's just trying to be hip so Jacqueline will notice him) reassures Jackie that that is what they are there for, the whole world will know of this place once they finish their project. (Douglas approved of this little speech, btb)

Rounding out the group are the twin sisters, Amalia and Avaria... ha ha just kidding. Artemis (Temis or Missy) and Apollo (Paula) are actually their names. Their parents thought they were having boys and didn't want to change the names they'd picked. The parents are well respected in their own field of Ancient Greece and Rome - Do You Know the Difference? Its a seminar they give around the country. It's fabulous, really.

Artemis is as gung ho as her parents and most of the rest of the class. Apollo is less enthusiastic, but she goes where her sister goes, as always.

Okay so (details, details, planning, packing, searching, finding) they get to the site in the middle of the day. All seems well, so they take their gear and head inside to find a good place to camp. Light-hearted joking abounds giving off the feeling that all's right with the world and this movie isn't going to turn into a bunch of blood, guts and screaming.

The sun begins to set and Jacqueline gets up to pace around a bit. Thomas tells her to lighten up and enjoy the night, beautiful skies, yadda yadda yadda. She puts on a brave face, but still decides she needs a bit more leg stretching. So she takes off down one of the paths, with her trusted map... that she got somewhere... que slightly more eerie music... scenery still beautiful though. She even sees a few cute little furry creatures. When she passes shadows fall over them and they look bloody and creepy.

She goes back to the group, feeling a bit better. Dinner's ready and everyone sits around the fire, Nigel suggests telling ghost stories (because that's what cool kids do around a campfire you know). They all tell one and laugh after each, some nervously, others accompanied with rolling of eyes. Then Paula sees a big tarantuala climbing up her sister's back, screams and points and scoots away. Everyone jumps up and gets all excited... but when none of the rest of them see anything they throw marshmellows at her telling her it was a good joke.

She gives a forced laugh then frowns, looking behind her sister for signs of the big ugly thing. Hmmm... maybe this isn't exactly how the assignment was supposed to go... I should get to the horror part. Basically, people start seeing things they are afraid of, it starts out small and innocently enough, (in and out of reality) but soon they are trapped in their own minds and no one is seeing anything real anymore.

Nigel comes across Thomas, but he thinks he is the man that killed his parents when he was little. Thomas walks over to Nigel (who he sees as Nigel), trying to comfort him as Nigel is looking pretty bad. Nigel sees the murderer, hears him taunting and getting closer and suddenly in his scurrying backwards his hand falls on the handle of a scythe which he whirls around in Tom/the murderer's direction.

Tom tries to get away, but stumbles. He pleads and cries for Nigel to see who he is, but Nigel doesn't. He hears the murderer continue to taunt him, so he swings down over and over again slicing and dicing poor Tom to pieces... cue staccato theme to accompany Tom's dying screams. I'm thinking this should happen after Tom figures out what's going on and tries to tell the others. Obviously the maze doesn't want anyone figuring it out.

Does Nigel come out of it and realize what he's done? Not sure... Has the maze taken him under its... stalk... and appointed him executioner? I'm thinking the reason the professor has had such lackluster results is that he assigns the same project year after year, but the students keep dying and the ones who make it out don't want to talk. Have to figure out a way to hide that from the school/public because that many students dying every year would get suspicious.

Maybe two or three make it out and come after him and then more horror ensues as he uses the dark magic his family has handed down through the centuries. Either everyone dies and some creepily familiar explanation is used (like... the audience finds out the "truth" behind why you lose socks in the dryer... and its some big scary evil thing. Lame example, but that's what I mean... something completely ordinary that no one thinks about actually has a horrifying story behind it.)... or one or two of the students survive and kill the guy (which leaves an opening for a sequel because those kinds of bad guys never really die :P) ... or get him locked up, which still leaves an opening for a sequel which horror movies seem to feed on :P

Okay... I might put more thought into this later, its kind of interesting to me :) But I'm going to post what I have now so I don't get even further behind and I've been wanting to read all yours all week! Hope I made sense... I didn't get very gorey, sorry Hill...

Boo!!! or not.

Heh, ok, this is for last weeks assignment that i totally procrastinated. Brought to you now in ramble format:

I couldn't really think of anything that had to do with groups. For some reason I just had a hard time thinking about a bunch of individuals and how they'd survive (or not) in a cornfield. Sooo....

My thoughts did keep drifting to a lone person though. Like maybe visiting grandpa's for the summer and liking to get out of the house.. or being driven out of the house. Maybe grandpa's creepy. Or just old and doesn't relate. So maybe the kid (I was thinking a girl) would take solace walking around the farm.. into the cornfield.. maybe sees something (a flash of clothing) and gets lured in, or walking a dog and gets pulled in. Something like that.

Now just a kid in a cornfield could get boring quick, so maybe she has a handicap or something? At first I was thinking she was deaf and couldn't hear all the creepy things happening.. but then I thought how much more scary would it be to blind and let her imagination run wild with all the wind sweeping through the corn, a windmill that's old and rusty, animals wandering around being... creepy. Especially being lost in a huge cornfield and no clue on how to get out.

So it ends up not really being haunted, but every sound made to think it is. I like the idea of the dog finding her and bringing her back out. I know its not quite what the assignment called for, but those of you that know me know that I don't have much of an imagination... It makes me appreciate those that do even more :)

A Brief Interruption

Hello all!

I'm going to make this quick because I don't want to have a lot of extraineous posts. First, I am going to post my Horror assignment, but probably while I'm at work tonight. I'll be working 27 days in a row and I blinked and this week was gone. (excuses, excuses, I know :P)

More importantly... We have a few new members and some who have not posted and I wanted to say to them. WELCOME! and YAY! :) And... feel free to post previous assignments or just jump in on the current one, whichever inspires you.

Thank you all for joining and I hope you are getting excited about our possibilities!

~H~

Corn Maze/Horror Flick Assignment (Debra)

Ok, I took a different approach and just jotted down any ideas I had and then why they were good ideas or bad ones. Not sure how much fun my rambling will be to read. Please excuse the grammar, I've just typed it as I've thought it. Good luck understand it! lol

Idea 1: Evil kids are the scariest. Especially if there's nothing wrong with them, they're just evil sociopaths. Evil kid/kids would make a great "villain"/murderer... especially if it's a girl. So serial killing 12 year old girl. That would be cool.

Idea 2: What if the group of people are older, like 30ish? Would that appeal to a younger audience at all? How would that do given that most horror slasher type films are about teens or college age people. What if it's a group of 30 somethings that decide to have a little fun around Halloween by going out to a corn maze. They are married couples and single friends. Professionals, regular people. They get to the maze late, just before closing, but think they can get through it really fast so they go in. They get lost in the maze and when they finally get out everyone else is gone. No cell reception and tires slashed? Or maybe batteries in their cars are all dead. A creepy old house not too far away, they go to use the phone and of course the owner is a killer.

Idea 3: Should the evil crazy killer be the "good guy", the most sympathetic and sweet character? Is that too over done?

Idea 4: I like the idea of tons of cliches but I wonder if that would end up being a bit too much like Scream... or worse it would really be something more like you'd see on the Disney channel around Halloween. Frankenstein, Dracula, the Mummy, a witch... is that just silly? I don't know how this could be done in a way that would really make it cool but I love those old black and white horror flicks. It'd be cool if there was a way to do it right but I don't have a clue what that way would be.

Idea 5: How about a crazy couple who can't have kids so they run a corn maze and steal a kid or two every year out of it and then keep them locked up in their house... or maybe kill the kids after a year because they don't want them to get too old. Is that too much like Children Under the Stairs? Maybe, but that was a really creepy and scary movie in my opinion.

Idea 6: The villain/killer person could be a very creepy old man who is a religious fanatic and anti-Halloween. He could kill people in the maze because they are evil for celebrating Halloween. That could be very scary. He could recite bible passages while he tortures them.

Idea 7: The movie should be called Corn Stalker with the er in dripping blood. Now that's cool! :)

Corn Maze Ideas

Yeah, so I got that whole brain freeze thing going on myself, and didn't come up with much more than a few general ideas, but here they are.

Corn stalk shoved through someones eye.

One of them falls into a pit filled with bones and bodies, some fresher including the body of one of their group with strange symbols carved into the flesh, so maybe it's some kind of cult killing.

The known body with the symbols carved in, well every good story in a corn field has to have two characters go off and have sex, so that body could have been that of the guy, stabbed in the back while doing it with his girl, she got angry and made a joke about his "staying power", until realizing that he had a dagger in his back and ran away promptly, without checking to see if he was dead or just almost dead.

Good old creepy looking scarecrow that every maze has to have, well this one has a good one, that's really creepy, with a really sick looking scythe. So of course one of the bodies is found nearly cut in half by the scythe, maybe with the scythe still sticking out of the body.

The ones left regroup by where the scarecrow used to be, but it isn't there. The scarecrow jumps out of the corn field at the group all menacingly, after finding the one killed by the scythe this is obviously some evil demented scarecrow guy trying to kill them all, so they attack it with whatever they can find rocks and such, and they beat the scarecrow to a bloody pulp. They figure they'll pull the mask off to see who it is that's been hunting them, and find it was one of their group. They try and figure out why that person would try to kill them all, while doing that a tractor starts up and starts to chase them, they pretty much figure out then that the person they killed wasn't aware of the murders and had just dressed up in the scarecrow costume to try and scare them, and they beat him to death for it.

I was thinking, forget the tractor just chasing them, one of the of course trips and falls down, and then they get run over by the tractor. It was probably a girl wearing high heels, to a corn maze, for no reason. So when the rest of them realize it was her that was run over, they're not that shocked, since she wore high heels to a friggen corn maze, and they generally agree she prolly deserved it, since she was most likely a whore. Hey every good horror movie has to have a whore that you just wanna see die, and she'd obviously be that one. :P

So I kind of figure that none of them make it out, kind of like it when it's a bit different and there's no hero that saves the day, and nobody makes it out.

Corn Maze Horror

I have to admit that I found this assignment to be difficult. Knowing that we should be writing down every idea made my mind shut down on me for most of the week. Nevertheless, I did manage to come up with a few ideas, so without further ado, I’ll get down to the business of sharing them with y’all.

- The day starts off happily enough. A group of seven friends decide to spend Halloween at the local Historic Farm. As the day draws to a close, they decide to take a quick flashlight run through the corn maze before heading off to a party. But unbeknownst to them, the maze is [dramatic music cue] possessed by evil spirits!
- The maze, which seems small and innocent enough from the outside, expands and shifts once our characters are inside, making it virtually impossible to reliably backtrack to the entrance, let alone find the exit. It also conspires to separate the characters.
- The maze is filled with various Halloween props: a scarecrow; jack-o-lanterns; a vampire in a coffin; etc. As the group entered the corn maze, the scarecrow was the first thing they saw. I envision them all basically ignoring it, completely missing the fact that a crow is sitting on its shoulder, pecking at its eyes. This shot would of course be moody and atmospheric, foreshadowing doom for our blissfully unaware characters.
- After being separated, the fun begins. The evil spirits begin possessing the props. (You see, my evil spirits can’t possess a living host.) Character #1, while trying to make their way back to the entrance, gets waylaid by the scarecrow and ends up impaled on the scarecrow’s scaffolding. The crows have a field day.
- Character #2’s flashlight burns out, and they pick up a jack-o-lantern to help light their way. The jack-o-lantern bursts into flame, a supernatural fire that consumes character #2, dying down to reveal a charred skeleton.
- Character #3 wanders around until they notice a light out of the corner of their eye. Thinking that it is one of the others, they follow the light. It leads them to a large barrel designed for bobbing for apples. They walk over to it, and look down. Seeing what looks like a faint and ghostly image in the water, they do what any good horror movie character does, they lean in for a closer look. They are grabbed and pulled down into the water, where they are drowned/throat torn out. (Think kelpies from Celtic myth, here.)
- Character #4 is wrestled into the coffin by the possessed vampire prop. The lid gets slammed shut, and then the ground around it turns marshy. It sinks down, out of sight.
- Character #5 gets bitten by the vampire prop. The evil spirit hops from the vampire, to char #5’s corpse. Taking the scythe from a Grim Reaper prop, it goes to hunt down characters 6 and 7.
- Possessed character #5 finds 6 and 7, claiming to have fought off some of the monsters and found a way out. He leads them close to the exit, where the possessed scarecrow and Grim Reaper wait. They plan to kill characters # 6 and 7, take over their bodies, and leave the corn maze to go wreck havoc elsewhere. Character #5 reveals himself to be a bad guy, a fight ensues in which characters #6 and 7 manage to ‘kill’ #5 and escape with their lives.

Hillary's Horror Flick Assignment (Hurt Fam=Haven)

I'm not sure how to write in screen play format, so I'm just going to write it out. I'm saving this blog post as a draft so the ideas are written in first to last order, and then I don't have to waste paper or lose it somewhere...:P Forgive me if it's jumbled. I'm not very good at writing yet.

***

*eerie noises as fade in to corn fields, camera from a first-person (??) view-point (from the character's pov) of a child* Sounds of a child sobbing and trying to run through the corn maze, out of breath. Distant sounds of screaming and terror. Crunching sounds from behind as someone stalks closer and closer. Stopping to catch her breath, the child changes direction and runs until she can't her the crunching footsteps anymore. She looks behind her, thinking all is safe, when suddenly there's a rustle and you see her terrified expression as she screams...*black out*


** 2:47 AM, Home of young family, three days before corn maze adventure **

Child cries and yells, "daddy" repeatedly, terrified. Startled, the parents awaken and the mother goes in to console the child. Realizing the child is in a cold sweat and truly frightened, the mother takes her from her crib and into their bedroom to console,etc. The child frantically tries to get away from being near her father, not wanting to look or be touched by him....

Basically going on from there, the father is the one who is zapped by the evil forces in the corn maze and comes after his family. The child's dream is a foreshadow of things to come.

Brainstorming by Cotton

Someone gets caught in a combine. Lots of screaming and spurting blood and viscera.

It's all just a test for a wayward son to appreciate his family and get off the drugs. He very reluctantly accompanies his family on this outing. It all goes wrong, but in the end his family is ok and he has learned his lesson. Kind of like The Game.

The teens have been in the maze for many hours, experiencing much horror and two dead companions already when they come across a basket of harvest fresh apples. The Tubby One leaps at the basket and begins devouring one. Only when he's got it half eaten does he realize it's full of maggots! EEEWWWW!

The scarecrow comes to life and chases them with a sickle.

Two of the college students are a couple and they jump in the hay wagon for a little "roll in the hay" when one gets impaled on a pitchfork "accidentally" left behind. Or, perhaps the scarecrow jabs it up through the bottom.

The victims come across a "field of poppies" and they begin to halucinate nightmarish things that cause them to attack one another.

They go for a hay ride and the horses get spooked, running out of control until the wagon crashes, pinning one of the friends under it. The others go for help, leaving him alone and helpless.

A demonic fire starts in the middle of the maze that chases its victims without actually burning any of the corn--which would, of course, destroy the maze and make it easier to get out.

OK So I got kind of on a roll here at the last minute and then got a phone call from someone in Spain whom I haven't seen in over a decade and now I really need to sleep. So I will respond to everybody's assignments tomorrow. Sorry I have been late on this assignment. I will do better.

I hope you had fun with this assignment. I was beginning to and I think the little affirmation helped fuel the fires, so to speak. How was your experience?