Busted and Bugged

I wish I could consider myself an adventurous and thrill-seeking person, but sadly, the most adventure I usual experience is through the strange stories that I write.  Here in the "real world" I usually don't take too many risks, as I've found that I have the worst luck of almost anyone that I know.  That isn't to say that I'm some bump on a log.  I do go out and socialize, I enjoy life, and love to try new things.  But I wouldn't call most of my outings "adventures."  So adventure came to find me, if you can call it that (I would call it bad luck).  Although When you're on your own for the first time, there isn't really a way to avoid these adventures.

I picked my boyfriend up after his last final on our way home so that we could see a lovely holiday performance that night.  We were on the highway, and since he had pulled an all-nighter before his last final, he began to drift off.  I was humming along (or probably full out singing) with whatever was playing, and making great time.  Suddenly, I heard and felt something weird on the left side of my car.  It was almost like gravel had blown out of the side of my car.  And I knew instantly but didn't want to admit it.  Out loud I said: "Did my back tire just blow out?"  I kept shaking my head and then tried to get over.  My back left tire had blown out while I was in the passing lane.  So of course, the person behind got so close to me when I slowed down.  They were right on top of me and I was trying to get over.  People are so impatient today that it's scary.  This is why accidents happen.

Thankfully I made it to the side of the highway.  By this time my boyfriend was awake, and he sprang into action.  We had to find the spare tire in my tiny, low to the ground car.  We emptied the trunk and he found the tire underneath it.  The cars whizzed by us, and while we determined that yes, my tire had indeed blown out, my boyfriend wasn't comfortable changing the tire on the side of the highway.  I agreed.

Probably to the annoyance of every driver on the highway, we got back in the car, and I put my four ways on as I slowly crawled to the next exit.  We ended up in a store parking lot and we (my boyfriend) set to work.  I sighed.  "I'm so glad that you're here because I've never changed a tire."

"Darling," he said, "neither have I."

I called both of our parents to let them know what was going on and that we would be a little late now.  His mother recommended that we call AAA, but I told her he wanted to try it himself.  She did not give him much vote of confidence.  But he continued to do it and got the jack in and was trying to work the bolts off but was having some trouble.  Suddenly, a man seemed to appear out of nowhere and said, "I see you're having some trouble."

We both were stunned, as usually in this area you do not find such helpful people.  He came over and basically loosened all of the bolts with one good twist each.  To give my wonderful boyfriend credit, he could have loosened them but wasn't sure of how much pressure to apply and didn't want to break anything.  My car is small and he is used to driving a mini van.  After that, the man left us to the work and my boyfriend changed the tire!  I took it for a spin around the parking lot and everything seemed fine.  The only drawback:  I couldn't drive above 50 mph with the tire.  And I still had almost another hour to drive on the highway.  People were not going to be happy with me.

So I drove as often as I could in the right line, keeping it just under 50.  A point came where some construction had things down to one lane, so I backed up traffic for that stretch of five miles.  We were very lucky though, and thank goodness, truly that my boyfriend was there.  He said, "I was just pretending that I knew what I was doing so that you wouldn't freak out."  His calmness did keep my calm, and this is why he is amazing.

"We had a grown up experience!" I exclaimed on the way home.  Although that is one adventure that I hope not to have to repeat very often.  With my condition that I have, even if I did know how to change a tire (which, now that I've watched it, I can see that it isn't too complicated) I would physically be able to do that.  My joints wouldn't allow that.  So thank goodness for boyfriends and helpful people!

This closely resembles the cockroach that I saw. Fun, huh?

I have neighbors above and below me, so I stifled a small scream and shut the water off.  For a brief moment I panicked.  What would I do?  I needed to get ready.  I'd have to kill it.  My shoes were off in my room, and the cockroach, at least an inch and half long if not two inches, was scrambling to free itself from the clutches of the bathtub.  I do not like bugs.  Most people I suppose do not (although there are always exception), but it was just too early and I was too tired to want to deal with this.

I grabbed a cleaner that was in the bathtub and told myself I just had to do it.  I had to kill it.  The cockroach seemed to know I was approaching, as it scrambled more intensely.  I jabbed at it with the cleaner and crunch it into the bathtub.  There was a smear of legs and a smushed body.  But now I had to actually take a shower in there.  What if there were more?  I shoved the shower curtain back and poised for any movement.  Nothing happened.  I realized then I would have to clean up the carcass in the shower so that I could actually take a shower and get ready.  I balled toilet paper up and tried to clean it up as quickly as possible.  Then I convinced myself that nothing else would come out of my bathtub.

Immediately I begin to believe it's my fault that cockroaches are infiltrating my second floor apartment. They were targeting me because I just don't keep things clean enough, I don't do enough, blah blah blah.  All day it was running in my head.  So I knew I needed to call my landlord and make a trip to Wally world before I got home.  My sister was coming up that day too to help me back and go home, so I wanted things to be comfortable for her.  She had never stayed over in my apartment, and of course, the day she was coming to see me, a large black roach had appeared in my bathroom.

At least, as many people have said, I haven't seen one in my kitchen.  That would be the worst.  So I went out and got spray and found that the only baits were for the small roaches.  I did buy the baits, thinking they would work, but when I opened them and saw the tiny openings, I thought, no, there is no way what I saw could ever fit in these tiny holes.  So I just made sure to spray around my bathroom and I called my landlord, who did not give me a definitive answer about what would happen.  I said on the phone, "I just don't want them to have a party in here while I'm gone."  So I will have to let you know what I will find when I flip my lights on the night I return.

Jennifer the commoner continues her adventures in mediocrity one day at a time!

The Strange Occurrences in a Free Country

I often wonder why people lie so much.  The lies are all over the television and newspapers, spoken at work and among friends.  These lies happen in a process to spin viewpoints and paint a slightly darker (or lighter) picture of something or someone.  I finally realized that these slightly shaded comments are the beginnings of propaganda.  Yes, I've said it.  Propaganda.  From both sides of the American political spectrum.  Right now there seem to be only two sides.  And no one is allowed to straddle that deeply cut line.  The media has made sure that things are seen in a black and white theme.  So those of us who live outside of the television have no where to go during the elections but left or right.  At least, that is what they would like us to think.

Which leads to a much more serious issue in our country.  With all of this propaganda and campaign spewing, how can facts be sorted out for hearsay?  How can people have an intelligent debate about the issues if no one in the room knows what the issues are really about?  This should scare people, much more than it does right now.  Along with the issue of the easy acceptance of unverified facts, more basic questions rise.  Do people understand the political parties?  Could they tell you what a republican stands for, or a democrat?  Would they be able to explain the difference between being a liberal and being a democrat?  Could they understand that you can be a conservative democrat and a liberal republican?  I'm not sure if many people do, and these four different political tendencies have been so definitely combined in a certain way that people can't see how things could be different.  The country sees all of this issues played out in Congress, where bipartisanship cannot be found.  And we all suffer for it.  All of us.  Because now we cannot move forward as a country, we cannot progress.  We shout at each other from behind our political stances, stubborn to give an inch, as if opening up to other's thoughts would somehow make us weak.  It's ridiculous, childish, and dangerous.  If we want things in this country to get better, and won't be by ripping apart the other side with various accusations; it will be when we figure out how to coexist with each other.  I use coexist deliberately so as to encompass not only differences in political theories, but differences in religious thought, social and economic standing, and cultural background.

The United States calls itself a "melting pot" of a nation, since we are comprised of so many different people.  Lately, it does seem like we are a literal melting pot, because we want everyone to meld together so that we are all one in the same, so we can all be the same religion, speak the same language, and think the same political thoughts.  What we should aim for is some type of salad.  Different but distinct ingredients come together to make a delicious (and healthy) combination.  This is a country of immigrants.  This is a country where acceptance was the ideal reason for coming here.  Yet according to history, that usually has not been the case.  The Puritans escaped persecution by settling in a new world, but then turned around and persecuted their own in a literal witch hunt.  Lower class citizens found new social and economic freedoms with farms here, but then ended up taking away others freedom through chains and oppression in the bonds of slavery.  The natural citizens of this land also suffered as the settlers drove them from their lands in the name of manifest destiny, until even today, as American Indians face the prospect of dying out completely.  Immigrants of the early twentieth century became the backs on which America stood as they filled the factories and worked under harsh conditions, and were bullied into voting for certain political parties.  And finally, the immigrants of today, and even American citizens who are not "white" are often targeted in racial crimes.

We are better than this.  In our ideal country we stand as the land of the free and the home of the brave.  We say that's what we are, even though throughout history we have continued to oppress people in our own country.  So let's be that country that we proclaim to be.  That can all start with listening to each other.  Just listen.  Don't interrupt.  Listen to the argument and take into account the facts.  Verify the facts with multiple sources.  The same news station does not count.  These blogs do not count.  Be curious.  Ask questions.  If we don't start doing this now, we will be consumed with the "us v. them" mentality that the media shoved down our throats.  Don't be taken in by it.  It's sensational news.  They are shock jocks looking for a response to make entertaining television.

I just don't understand where so much hate comes from in this country.  We live in a country where we elect our representation into office, where we have the freedom to follow our passions, to have a family, to live where we please, to make as much money as we want, and yet so many seem so full of hate.  I just want to make things better so that people can live better lives.  So that people can live free and happy lives.  Aren't those our unalienable rights ("life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness")?  So let's all approach these issues with that perspective, instead of proclaiming that the goal is to get the people we don't like out of office.  That's not a goal.  We can do better.  So let's stop listening to the lies, and let's start listening to each other.

Flash Fiction 1

To help me continue to write so that one day I can meet my own life goals, I'll be putting up some short little writing assignments I'll make for myself. Here's a little flash fiction to brighten your day:

The scar wound down from under her eye, down her cheek and neck, and zigzagged over her chest. She wore spaghetti strap tank tops every day. No scarf. No jacket. Not that she needed a jacket. The blinding white desert sun kept the town warm and dry the whole year. Even during the cool nights she seemed impervious to any elements. She seemed impervious to stares, to gawks, to whispers. People pointed and followed the raised white tissue crawling across her skin. She smiled, and sometimes winked at those people, before she clambered up into a dusty pick up truck, its light blue paint peeling away.

"It's from a zombie attack." Jason moved the words over a huge bit of ice cream. The truck disappeared with a cloud of dust. "Her scars are battle wounds. I bet she keeps a shot gun under the bench in her truck."

"Who'd you hear that from?" Brandon threw his half eaten popsicle into Jason's face.

"Hey! Watch it! What is with you?" Jason tossed the styrofoam dish into the garbage. "It's just crazy Sadie. Relax." He kicked at the small trick bike at the curb, caught the handlebars in his hands and jumped on. "Are you coming?"

Brandon slumped at the metal picnic table. Flat, everything was flat and low. And then out on the horizon, just hinting at a foreign world, mountains rose. They were only miniature from here. "Nah."

"Dude! You haven't been there all week! What is going on?"

"I just don't feel like it, ok?"

"Whatever, man." Jason hopped over the curb on his bike and sped off down the road, away from the mountains.

The wind whipped by Brandon, battering against the small market building. He closed his eyes, breathing in the dry air, trying to taste something on the air. All he got was sand. Sterile, tasteless sand.

The moon was right on top of them. Blinding and white. The sun without the orange sky to hold it. Sand dug into his back, stinging and crunching. Each piece shaped by years of wind, all the same. Brandon let his arms slip over her thighs. Thin and white. She moved over him, slowly and purposefully, each rocking movement sending him further and further into the sand, into his mind, into the blankness of the desert. Then, suddenly, he wasn't in the desert. He wasn't in the middle of a small town filled with people copying the styles and movements of a world reflected in a television screen. He wasn't in a canvas void of life and color.

Sadie slumped off of him. Brandon traced his finger from her eye, gently following the trail of her thick scar.

"You like it?" Her voice was thick but even.

"Um...yeah."

She turned toward him, naked and warm. She wasn't shy, but Brandon wouldn't call her immodest. She was comfortable, as she was meant to be. She stood fleshed out in a flat town, bearing her body, bearing her soul. And then a laugh broke out across the sky, stretching around them like a bed sheet. Sadie let her head fall back into the sand and let the laugh take over her body. "You don't have to be scared of it. It's just a scar."

"You, you always show it off though. Why don't you cover it up?"

"Cover this up? It's kind of hard."

"But you could cover up some of it."

"Look, with me, it's all or nothing. Why hide it? It's obviously entertainment for you and your friends."

Brandon turned away from her, suddenly very aware of his exposed body. "I don't gawk at it."

"Now you don't. Before our lovely little late night trysts? Yeah you did. You were just like the rest of them."

"I'm not like the rest of them."

"Aw, little boy. Don't whine."

"What do you know?" Brandon bolted up, ripped his pants on and walked off as he buttoned up his fly.

"Baby." Sadie kicked sand toward him. "Where are you going?"

"Away."

"Away from what?"

"Everything!"

"You know, you think you hate it here, but you don't. You're just growing up."

"What the hell does that mean?" Brandon turned around, his back to the moon, the front of his body pitched in shadow.

"You hate this place. You think it's boring. It all looks the same." Sadie sat up, stretched her arms over her legs and let her thick hair fall in front of her face. "Everywhere is the same. The same people, the same cars, the same buildings. Rearranging the land won't change that. It's not the desert you hate." She sank back into the sand. "And boy can you satisfy. Mmm."

Brandon didn't move. "Then what do I hate?"

"What you were. Jeering those who are different, i.e. me. Now you've opened up. You just want to experience new things. That's all right, just don't mistake that for hate. Now get on top of me before I decide to put my clothes on."

"Will you tell me how you got your scar?"

Sadie rose up onto her side, supporting her head with her arm. "No. I display my scar to the world. I cover up how I got it."

Sadie and the desert. Open to the world. Yet somehow unattainable; elusive as sand slipping through his hands. "Was it really a zombie attack?"

"Get over here." She slid back down into the sand and motioned for him to come back, with her hands above her, as if she were motioning the moon to come closer.

The Fall (2006)

"You always stop at the same part, when it's very beautiful. Interesting," Alexandria complains to Roy while she waits for him to continue a story of epic proportions. Alexandria, played by Catinca Untaru, recovers in a Los Angeles hospital after falling from a ladder at work in an orange orchard. She befriends another patient Roy, played by Lee Pace (who also starred in the charming and fantastical, yet sadly short series Pushing Daises). As their story deepens, so does Alexandria's confrontations to the horrifying realities that have been present in her life all along. The cinematography is nothing but stunning. Filmed all around the world in over eighteen countries, the surroundings do jump right out of a magical mythology, and yet they are places from our very own world. We often forget the beauty in what surrounds us, and with our every day marathon (particularly in America) we may never get to enjoy that beauty unless we make the time (there's a new year's resolution for you!)

If you have not seen The Fall, go, right now, and watch it. How refreshing was it for me to watch a movie with an original script, cinematography, and even casting (thank goodness it wasn't the same child actors that keep showing up in American films). Untaru gives one of the most sincere, believable, and heartbreaking performances I've seen. Pace also delivers, bringing the audience to tears as you feel his character's pain while also aching for the girl who cannot fully understand what has happened. The pacing of the film keeps the plot rushing ahead with the intermittent wanderings into the fantasy realm, with simple yet lush story telling and revealing moments of character. Even in the "present-day" portions, the audience is taken back to another time of a young Hollywood clamoring for attention with its films, stunt men searching for their place in the industry, the poorest migrants laboring in the vast orange groves, and a bustling hospital that brings them all together.

So thank you. Thank you for a beautiful movie that took me to another time and place, not only in our world, but in a world of a child's imagination. This gets my rating of "A Great Movie."