Light and Darkness

Fly Paper

I wrote this on 02.08.07 and read it at Glass Eye this month. I haven't fixed grammar issues such as verb tenses so please forgive.

Fly paper hanging in the doorway of the kitchen as the dim light barely illuminates the hall leading to the bedroom. You can hear her moaning from the obvious pleasure caused by their rutting. The seediness of their impulsive decision to fuck only encourages their primal instincts.

He was ugly. An overweight drunk in his forties with a paunch that came from eating too many delicatessen sandwiches as evidenced by the grease stains on the front of his shirt. And having just met him in line while ordering take out only supported the theory that he had a fondness for deli meats and cheeses from heartland Wisconsin. And his ugliness was only exaggerated by his pocky skin and hacker's cough that expelled a stale breath reeking of ashtrays and ass.

But there she was...fucking him in his apartment. And she was more than enjoying it. He was the best lay she had had.

All 250 pounds of him pushing her against his cheap dresser. From behind nonetheless. She can see him in the mirror. Eyes closes and scrunched. His mouth hung open and spittle creeped from the corners as his face contorted from the pleasure he was feeling. She could see his chubby hands grasp her hips. He clung to her with pinching claws. And fuck! It turned her on more.

Her hands pampered from weekly visits to the Korean woman at the spa held the sides of the bureau tightly. Her knuckles strained against her skin. Any tenser and the bone may have ripped thru the surface.

Her skirt had been pulled up and out of the way so that he could access her. Dark hair plastered to her forehead with sweat; and her eye make-up was bleeding down her cheeks. Despite her charm in the bourgeois social circles, she was fucking a nameless slob she had met twenty minutes before.

He was behind her in the store when she stepped backwards into him. She never apologized nor looked back. She let the push of the lunch time crowd initiate her spontaneous thought. She pressed into him until she aroused him. And she let him press back.

After she picked up her order, she followed him back to his dingy home, and she fucked him.

One can think she wanted revenge against a cheating husband who did pretty blondes who answered his phones. Or perhaps she was punishing herself with anonymous sex because she felt worthless. Maybe she was molested by a middle-aged slacker when she was a teen. Or she could be a whore.

None could be further from her truth. She had a need that this man freely fulfilled. She wanted a lunchtime quickie and he was behind her in line.

Tennis Elbow

If only I were rich, overburdened with lots free time, and full of lofty ideals that the pain in my fucking left elbow can be diagnosed as Tennis Elbow because I play too much tennis....or badminton or just sipping on the mojitos. It's more like "damn, I lifted that 70 lbs of popcorn seed to stock the stand so that the pissy customers get their hot steaming popcorn and I wretched the effin joint too fast" elbow.

Either that or I slept on it wrong.

Every One Should Carry a Little Candy in Their Pocket.

When you have a moment, go visit Candy from TK101. She's a local radio personality and she is a fucking hoot. I met her through mutual friends at Glass Eye and she makes me blush. She's as friendly as can be....the love just flows out of her. Funny as hell too so don't just spend time drooling over her as eye candy (eye candy...haha. Get it?! Eye Can-dy? Like her name, Candy? And looking at her?......hee hee hee *snort* ...no? Ok.) but read her entries on her page.

Just a little bit on her meeting with the infamous Davy Jones from the Monkees.

...

OK - the meat and eggs in a locker were probably not the smartest move, so I throw it in the freezer at work and our production manager throws it away as (and I quote again) "it still stinks".

Flash ahead 7 - 8 years later, I still haven't had that chance to redeem myself and I still have that entire morning in my head like it was yesterday.

Also, I  still have his napkin in my locker from his breakfast that "started to stink".  If they ever are able to clone whole people from syripy-mouth germs, I might just have him made so I can tell him all the stuff I meant to when he was here.

No interesting post script to this tale - I do, however, often wonder if he ever talks about our building and wraps up the story "and then this sweet, retarded girl shouted that she loved me before I went out the door".

I guess I'll never know.

...

Get her hit counter up. Don't forget to sign up for the Freeloading. Live streaming of the station as well.

Fix You by Coldplay

My friend Ed shared this YouTube video on his MySpace; and I this it's probably one of the most beautiful things I've heard. I've included the lyrics as well. I think it's probably a very good Emotional Clef entry.

When you try your best but you don't succeed
When you get what you want but not what you need
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
COULD IT BE WORSE?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

And high up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I

Tears stream down your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you.

Prompt me, baby! Prompt me!

I need a friendly nudge. So, how about a meme (of sorts since it won't be a weekly thing or a sign up list...can one even be started?) for those interested? Leave in a friend's comment section of their latest entry a writing prompt. A question or suggestion or feeling or memory...anything that gives the start for their next entry.

I've no direction for an entry and this just might help. It may beget tons of comments with suggestions for any of us who decide to play. I'm off to tag some folks.

Forever 17

It's been a while but a new Blogexplosion renter: Forever 17

Her name is Gabriela and she is from Mexico. She writes poetry, features music lyrics, talks about the sadness.....sounds a little like someone we all know. Some things in common so I couldn't tell her no. Go show her some linky love and take her a Jello mold.

And to the 1st Runner's Up....go and say hello to them as well:
Scooter McGavins' 9th Green
Onemanbandwidth: An American Professor in China
The Vegan Diet
New York Nitty-Gritty
Observing Hermann...
I-BIBLIOPHILE LIBRARY
Slightly Mordant

Best Buy is My New Best Friend

I had joined Best Buys Rewards thing when I bought my computer; and I just cashed in forty dollars worth of gift certificates to buy Python......Less than forty dollars for the kit and kaboodle.

So excited. So happy. So vegging out.

"She use to be a screamer."

My voice has gone awfully silent on here. It pains me to see that I haven't had many emotional gushings lately. Not sure if it's the humility of having lost an important relationship. Or if trying to develop professionally censors my stream of consciousness writing. Or perhaps cutting back on the emotional gauge has stolen all the umpf I used to write my little bits. But I'm wanting more out of my posts.

Honestly, I basically work. I spend so much time in that building or doing things for that building that I have nothing else. It's a good thing I actually like the job or I'd be screwed. Right? But it can be a thankless job sometimes; and with the addition of a couple of good managers, I feel I'm not as important anymore. Sigh.....it could be a self-esteem thing. You think?

I am working on a promotion. I'm hoping soon. I'm hoping it's going to be worth all the long hours and such. It's a step towards the bigger promotions that can be quite a bit more to my dinner table. A few years and I've been told that I could be a general manager. Eh.....could happen.

Funny how your eyes can suddenly glaze over with exhaustion. I'm not even done writing this bloody entry. More tomorrow. Promise.

Erwin Olaf

A few weeks ago I discovered the artist, Erwin Olaf. Amazingly, gorgeous photos. Be warned: some images are nudes and may get you into trouble at work. Just beautiful imagery.

The Divine Ms. Em

This is MY kid. Isn't she beautiful?

Definitely Not an Easy Job

Teenagers interested in having children before they are ready should be assigned to care for a prepubescent child for two weeks. A girl, preferably in the throes of becoming a woman. A moody female that can't decide if the world is against her or is her oyster and defines teenage angst as a picnic tea in hell with 1001 banshees. Then perhaps....PERHAPS....they would use a condom.

Are there Mulligans in parenthood? Because I sure could use one or two. Children do not forgive easily. I realize now that The Exorcist was not about a girl possessed by the devil. Oh no....she's was just going through adolescence.

Just One More

I like this self-portrait. Taken with my Razr today.

Don't I Look Like a Smarty?

Finally...I can see. New glasses and new contacts. All for the bargain price of $417.

Yep.

Sigh.....

A New Look

My new specs are in. Aren't I a vixen? Now, don't all of you jump me at once.

What What

Found this on Disco's MySpace in his comment and it has to be the best thing I've enjoyed in a long time.

Bwah!

I am restless.

Since denying the bipolar beast, the emotional wave has been less invasive and more managable. I think being stubborn about it all has helped. BUT, I still suffer through the shit.

Restless. Depressed. Angry. Yet very doable (is doable a word? Seriously, that just looks weird.) I really think most of what I suffer through is my whining about my life. Eh.

Just need something to do. Someone to do. SOMETHING!!!

Invite? What?!

You know how you do that weird stalker thing with former loves (please say you know what I'm talking about) by Googling their name or checking if they are on some place like Reunion.com or MySpace? And generally, your crazy Glenn Close borderline ways are secret only to you because there's no harm....no foul. No real way of knowing.

Well, evidently I was way too quick on the mouse clicks tonight and sent a fucking invite to Angus from MySpace. I was clicking thinking I was doing a search by email and I received a page that gives invite status.

Invite? What?! What?! Invite sent?! Oh, fuck!

Yeah. So Moronic Nae (notice the big MN on my spandex covered chest that is color coordinated with my cape) just admitted to Angus that I'm a Fatal Attraction type fool. FUCK! And what how does one recover from that? No real way. In true Angus fashion, he'll ignore it. But in true Naomi fashion, I'll bite my nails over it.

Can't send an email to him for two reasons: 1) I've decided I'm just annoying him with trying to make amends and plead my case. Thus his avoidance of anything Naomi-related for the last year. It's better to have love and lost, right? Time to just move on. Mature thing to do. 2) Sending an email will only call attention to the idiocy that is me and that strange little thing called stalking that people who don't get over it do like lurking about the internet.

Seriously, I'm not a stalker. I just miss the hell out of this man. Fuck, it tore my soul away from my body when it just ended. Dreams. Anger. Hate. Remorse. Tears. Incessant calling and emails....But still, I would rather not look like a crazy person if that can be avoided.

Damn you MySpace for tattling on me. More reason to hate you more.