30 Days of Gratitude: Day 2

Today I am thankful for:

1. Silence
The world can be a noisy place, cars, alarms, sirens, music, advertising, barking, talking, creaking, groaning, beeping, booping. Having to deal with all that all the time is overwhelms my ears sometimes, so it's nice to have a reprieve from it. I really enjoy spending the early parts of my morning without any extra noise. I find the silence comforting.

2. Solitude
Being alone is nice from time to time. Gives me room to breath, think and do all those embarrassing things I don't want to admit to anyone I do which may or may not involve terrible music.

3. TED Talks
I can't promise I'll stop talking about TED talks, but I will try not to bombard you with them all the time. Just most of the time!
http://www.ted.com/
Really though, if you have time take a look, you might just be inspired.

30 Days of Gratitude

There are plenty of things in life that I can't change. The weather, the amount things cost, my height, the lack of a Jetson style flying car, to name a few. While I could dwell on those unchangeable aspects for days, it won't get me anywhere. What I can change though, is my attitude and perspective of the world around me. Playing into the theme from the video in my last post, I am going to start with being thankful for 3 things a day, for 30 days. Persuading myself to look on the brighter side of life seems like a great thing to do in the middle of Victoria's drab rainy season. So it begins!

Today I am thankful for:

1. My Parents
 Late 2010- 2011 was little rough. I hit a rough patch and needed some help to get back on my feet, especially in the finance department. Even though it bruised my ego to slink back home, it was the best decision I could have made. My parents have been so incredibly helpful by allowing me to live with them, feeding me, lending me a few dollars, all without making me feel guilty or like a failure.

2. Hot Water
Nothing soothes the soul better on a drizzly day than a nice hot shower. If I didn't hate having pruny skin so much, I wouldn't question staying in the shower for a good hour.  It's also great for tea, but that comes in at a far second place.

3. Books
I realize that's pretty broad, but I love books. Books I've read, books I'm going to read, even the ones I'll never get to, they're all important to me. I value knowledge and creativity and literature is still a solid way to soak in both.

The Power of Small Steps

As I've said a million times, I LOVE TED talks. The idea of bringing inspiring, intelligent and interesting people together once a year is so simple, but so important. Not only that, but all the talks are available online for free! But, on to the point. Here's a TED video for you on the importance of making small changes while still keeping sight of your larger goals.



Lofty goals are important because they keep us going. They keep us trying and reaching. But small ones are equally as important. Once you achieve a small goal, the bigger ones seem more attainable, and we prove to ourselves that we can do it.
What can you change for 30 days?

Unfinished Business: Untitled

Here comes an embarrassing confession: I read the shopaholic book series. Not all of them, but most of them. I can't help myself, sometimes I like to read simple, easy, outlandish and purely female comedies. The fairer sex is know for their questionable taste in literature from time to time. Twilight? Daniele Steele? Sweet Valley High? Ladies, ladies, ladies. What are we thinking? As I said, these books aren't necessarily feats of literary wonder and I kind of like that. So much so that I figured I could write one myself. A simple story about a crazy lady doing crazy things only to realize that maybe there is more wrong with herself than she cares to acknowledge because she's too busy being crazy.

*******

I should have known, really. That’s what everyone says and they are all right. We all should have known that the charming man who swept us off our feet would end up turning into a fat slob. Because, of course, as pony boy once said, “Nothing gold can stay.” This apparently, goes for anything stylish, anything cultural, intelligent, and beautiful. Hell, even anything kind of cute in a disturbing frat boy kind of way. Once the vows are vowed and the rings are ….. ringed, everything “gold” seems to magically disappear. And we still gotta love these fat fuckers, or so they say. But “they” aren’t living with the blobs that used to be their sexy boyfriends. No, “they” are either single, or have become equally as tarnished as their significant other. That’s nice for them. Be slovenly and in love! Righteous! I, however, did not sign up for this, and something has got to give and it better not be the couch.  Starting right now, I am on a mission. I am going to do everything in my power to get back the stud I agreed to marry before I have to come up with an excuse for hiring a pool boy. As if that wouldn’t send the cheater alarm going!

Day 1

                  The alarm is blaring in my ear. Its rhythmic beep beep beeping is muted by the gregarious snoring coming from the man beside me. Each breath rattles through his nose and against his throat making it sound as if there is a lot of extra skin in there flapping around. Did he snore like this when we started dating? I try to think back to our beginnings seven years ago, but it’s early and it’s loud in this king bed. I can’t think of whether I had been sleeping with an ogre all along, but that’s neither here nor there because I am definitely lying next to one right now.

                  “Baby, I think it’s time to get up.” I whisper, poking him gently with my toes. He snorts, but doesn’t move. “Jess, get up.” I move closer and give him a little shove. He groans. That’s it. I scramble to my knees and begin shaking him like a dirty rug, “for the love of god, Jesse Raymond! Wake up!” I yell. One arm slides from beneath the covers and grabs me by the waist.

                  “Beautiful girl, relax and lie here with me for a minute.” He responds, tucking me against his chest.  The hairs on his chest tickle my skin as his belly presses against mine. I don’t remember it being so big, or this hairy. When did this fuzzy bear like creature crawl into bed with me replacing my husband? If I could only get him out of bed, then I’ll be able to start the transformation, but he wants to spoon instead.

                  “Ok, it’s been at least a minute,” I say wriggling from his arms, “time to start the day. How about I make us some breakfast?”

                  “Mmmm, bacon and eggs would be great.”

                  I’m not making bacon and eggs. Clearly all that bacon has gone straight to his gut. “Yea, something like that. See you in a few.” I give his arm a quick squeeze before jumping out of bed. I’m not sure what we have in the kitchen but there has got to be something healthier than bacon. I bet there is some fruit somewhere. I could make a smoothie!

                  The cold air falls from the open refrigerator and blows against my toes as I scan the shelves. Not much in here. A few apples, those will do. Perhaps some milk too. So an apple smoothie doesn’t seem that appetizing, I should check the pantry. Ah ha! A can of peaches. That should be alright, a peach apple smoothie. With a little hop in my step I pull the blender out, and a cloud of dust along with it. Some wedding gifts never get used, this happened to be one of them. With a quick wipe, I am ready to whip up my dear hubbie’s first life changing breakfast.

                  The blender whirs to life in a flurry of health induced fervour. First the can of peaches. In an instant they are nothing more than mush fit for those lacking teeth. Next goes in the apple. The white and red swirls against the orangey peach mush. Now the mix looks like old person skin, gray and kind of icky. Who said healthy was appetizing anyway! Last, a splash of milk for that added calcium kick. Beautiful!

                  “Since when does bacon and eggs involve a blender?” Jesse quips from the doorway.

                  “Oh, I’m trying something different. “ I mumble, jamming the “high” button on the blender to drown out anymore questions.

                  “It looks like you’re making paper Mache” he’s giving me those eyes. It’s the same look he gives me when he thinks I’m wrong about something. What does he know about being healthy?

                  “It will taste better then it looks,” I offer attempting to place some sort of conviction behind the statement.

                  Those eye just keep staring. He’s not convinced. “I appreciate the effort, buuuuuut, I think I’ll just make myself some cereal or something.” 

                  “Ohhhh, sorry love, but I used the last of the milk for the smoothies.”  I lie hoping he won’t pick up the half full carton sitting next to the blender.

                  “Toast then.” He’s eyeing the smoothy as if it might come to life and devour him.

                  “Please just try it.” I lean over the counter hoping he’ll be swayed to give in after he catches a glimpse of my goods. If I’ve learned anything from being married it’s that boobs are often the best bartering tool.

                  He raises his eyebrows slowly and smirks, “Fine, I’ll try it, but don’t think I’m doing it because you flashed me a peak at those.” He makes a circling motion in the air around my chest.

                  Fuck, he’s on to me! I turn around quickly to search for a glass so he won’t see my face turning red.

                  As I start to tilt to the pitcher I can see that the mix of fruit doesn’t want to budge. I give it  a little shake to loosen it up The eyes are growing more and more doubtful across the room and honestly, so am I. Not only does it look like cement, but it is about as solid as it. Another useless shake I and I’m forced to grab a spoon.

                  “Are you sure about this?” Jesse untwists the bread bag and begins reaching for a piece.

                  “Wait! Just wait! Please!” That man doesn’t need any more crabs! I must get this health concoction out of this Satan possessed, evil, useless blender. No sooner did the curse leave my mouth when plop a chunk of smoothie lands in the glass. “ Here you go lover!”

                  “Aren’t you going to have one too?” I can see his eyes twinkling mischievously. Of course, if he has to suffer I do too.

                  “Absolutely!” I mimic cheerfulness and hope my enthusiasm will give him some sort of psychic boost and that he won’t vomit upon first sip.

                  Chunks of unblended fruit tumble from the pitcher and splash the hideous gray mixture all over the counter. I would rather eat draino and given the texture of my experiment, this will probably do the same thing to my guts.

                  Jesse raises his glass to his lips, but stops just before. “This is your gourmet breakfast. You must try it first! I don’t want to ruin the purity of the moment for you.”

                  The man can barely hold himself together long enough to get those words out. He’s mocking me! He has no faith in my abilities! “Don’t mind if I do!” No matter how awful this is I must not let it show. Mr. Raymond thinks he’s so clever and more importantly he thinks I’m wrong!

                  I open my mouth and pour the semi liquid down my throat. It creeps out of the glass so painfully slow that I doubt any will reach my lips so I give the bottom of the glass a couple taps. Of course the whole wad shoots out at once, into my mouth, down my chest and all over my face. As soon as the first atom hits my tongue I can’t control my body. My face begins to pucker and contort in disgust. My gag reflex kicks in hard and I begin coughing the shit back up. Except it’s just like cement and it get’s stuck in my throat.  I keel over the sink and begin hacking.

                   Over the sound of my own asphyxiation I can here Jesse chuckling, “Yea. I thought so.”

                  “I’m…….. going to …… choke …… to……. Death!” I wheeze in between waves of retching and hacking.

                  “Aw beautiful, you’ll be fine. Stick your head under the tap and have a drink of water.”

                  He’s still chuckling to himself when I finally manage to compose myself. It feels as if I’ve just finished severe boot camp I’m sweating so hard! This was a bad idea. Why did I ever think an apple smoothie would be delicious? Have you ever been to the local juice bar and ordered an apple fucking smoothie? No! Why? Because they’re disgusting!

                  “This was a stupid idea,” I mumble as I toss both glasses and the pitcher into the sink.

                  “What was that?” Jesse turns as I clatter the dishes in frustration. “Toast?” He waves a crispy piece of bread in the air to entice me.

“No. I don’t have time for toast. I need to get ready for work.” After ingesting a cupful of what I can only describe as sludge, I can’t imagine eating anything else. That, and I feel foolish for my vigorous attempt at instant healthiness. Cleary this is something that will take more planning.  Shoulders slumped I head back upstairs.

                  “Nice ass!” Jesse calls as I climb the stairs.  My cheeks begin to flush, even to this day that little perv can still make me blush.

There has got to be a better way to go about this. I step out of the shower feeling a little deflated. I do love that man, but I could stand to love a little less of him! Hey, I could even love him more I bet; more for less! That’s just grand! Feeling smug and pretty happy with myself I drop my towel and use it to wipe the steam off the mirror. A circle of skin begins to appear before me and the more I wipe, the more skin I see fill the circle! It’s as if my reflection is taking over half of the mirror! Wait a second! Just one single second! Since when did my body take up so much of the mirror!

Maybe it’s a bad angle. I turn a few degrees and am satisfied with what I see. Then I exhale. Shoot! There it is again! That mirror encroaching skin coloroed blob is back. The more I turn the worse it seems to get! Maybe Jesse isn’t the only one who needs this health kick.

Someone’s ears must have been burning because I hear a quick tap at the door, followed by the metallic clacking of the door handle being shook. “Are you just about done in there?”

“Just a second

                 

                 

                 

                  

Unfinished Business: Evil Twin Version 2

I got a little bit further on this one. Progress! Or something like that.

*******

E, or Evil Maynard Chase knew this waiting room better than his own bedroom. Or at least it felt that way. The boy was always here for constant performance reviews, which wasn't entirely abnormal. However, there was never any performance to review and that itself was the abnormal part and the sole reason for his frequent visits to this god-forsaken place.

            "Mr. Chase." The secretary called not bothering to look up past the computer monitor.

He didn't respond. Not because he hadn't heard his name called, but because he wondered how many times she would aimlessly call for him before she actually acknowledged his presence. This was something he did on a regular basis. If he was going to be here as often as he was, he expected at least some sort of rapport. The record was seven.

            "Mr. Chase. Maynard." The woman called again.

Still he waited, staring directly at the woman's stringy, thinning, muddy brown hair.

            "E. Maynard Chase." She called again. Her voice never changed with each recital of his name. It seemed as though she could call on him forever like pre generated vocal loop. "Mr. Chase. Mr. Chase. Mr. Chase."

            Maynard sighed. Perhaps she would respond to that.

            She did. Peering over the top of the monitor she smiled quickly, "Mr. Chase, Dr. Gilbert is ready for you. I trust you haven't forgotten which office is his." Her eyes dropped away from his.

            "Nope." Maynard mumbled as he raised his hand to give the secretary a thumbs up. Noticing that she had stopped looking, he lowered his hand awkwardly as if it had raised itself and he was now just noticing it. He moved from the plastic chair and out of the waiting room. As he passed the secretary's desk he tried to see what was so interesting to her. He moved his eyes as far left as they would go without moving his neck, but couldn't see a thing. Peripheral vision was for athletes and army men. E. Maynard was neither, perhaps due to his peripheral failings. He sighed again. Secretary's interests were to remain a mystery for just a little longer.

          

  Dr. Gilbert was reclined in his leather office chair as Maynard entered. The robust man had his hands folded over his belly, his eyes were closed and his nostrils were expanding and contracting rhythmically. Maynard may have mistook the posture for an afternoon nap had he not walked into this exact scene numerous times before.

           

           "Mr. Chase, when will you be moving your stuff in?" Dr. Gilbert leaned back further until his torso was nearly parallel with his desk.

            "Very funny sir." Maynard dropped his bag next to the chair facing the doctor.

            Dr. Gilbert began his ascent to an appropriate seated position very slowly. His hands did not move from their assigned place atop mount belly fat and his strangely large nostrils kept their metric rhythm. It wasn't until he was full upright did he move his hands, placing them atop the desk.

            "Well Mr. Chase. Please tell me you have something to report."

            Maynard struggled to remove a folded piece of paper from the breast pocket of his shirt. His fingers rattled together as he opened the page. The paper whispered as it shook between his hands. He cleared his throat and lowered his head to begin reading.

            "I have a couple ideas. Last week didn't go so well. I really tried, but you know, none of it worked. I tried to use some of the stuff you mentioned but it didn't work." Maynard watched Dr. Gilbert nod slowly.

            "What's the plan then?" he inquired, pointing at the rattling paper.

            "I could take all his mail so that the bills don't get paid and his utilities get cut off, or I could hide his keys so he's late for work, or I was thinking I could ---"

            "Maynard, these things, have you not done them before? Those ideas are not the sort of things Evil Twins do, or at least not this late in the game. Your twin is nearly 25 years old! Shouldn't you have hid his keys when he was 16?" Dr. Gilbert wasn't seriously asking. He knew the answers well. Of course Evil Maynard Chase had hid his twin's keys and of course he had tried to prevent the bills from being paid, but that was years ago and the truth was E. Maynard Chase was out of ideas and had been for a very long time not because he didn't have any ideas. Rather, the things he had been trying lately had little to no effect on his "good" counterpart.

            "I know, I know. But you don't understand! Nothing is working! I'm trying, but this guy is is.... not a good guy!" Maynard folded the paper and shoved it back into his pocket.

            "It sounds like you're making excuses. Out of all the Evil Twins, no one else seems to be having a problem following through with their plans."

            "It isn't fair to compare my twin with all the others. Isn't there even a slight chance that I somehow managed to be assigned an exceptionally difficult twin?" Maynard leaned towards the doctor. He was pulling at threads, hoping he could convince the man that it wasn't his fault.

            "Of course not Mr. Chase. Each twin comes from one whole, the split is always even with equal parts evil and equal parts good. This you know." Dr. Gilbert raised his eyebrows and lowered his head, unimpressed.

            It was true, Maynard knew how twins came about, but he couldn't help but feel as if there had been some sort of mix up. As the evil twin, it was his job to throw curveballs in the life of his other half without harming him or being caught. Evil twins were not so much evil as they were terrible nuisances. It was their job to make sure the lives of their good twins were enriched through unexpected curveballs and proverbial peg knockings. Ever found a stain in your favorite t-shirt and have no idea where it came from? Thank your evil. Have you ever written an exam and was certain you passed it only to find you got more wrong than you had anticipated? Study harder, it wasn't your evil. However, that time someone put a dent in your car door while you were out shopping, that was definitely your evil. Sneaky bugger! However, Maynard's twin was an exception. Good Maynard Chase or alternately, G. Maynard was in a perpetual state of shambles and no task effected him in the slightest.

            "But sir, G. Maynard is impossible to dupe! His keys are ALWAYS lost, his clothing is torn and tattered and full of unidentifiable stains, and.... Well basically he is a mess already and I don't think he even notices when I do anything!" Maynard threw his hands above his head.

            "I want to sympathize with you Mr. Chase. I really do, but the truth is, we are getting a little frustrated with seeing you in here on such a regular basis. This is becoming a problem." Dr. Gilbert rocked back in his chair as he spoke, "The board has decided to give you one month to shape up and make some progress."

            "What am I supposed to do?!" Maynard couldn't believe what he was hearing.

            "This is a very rare case indeed. Only a handful of evil twins have been stripped of their titles due to unacceptable performances."

            "What if I don't improve? Dr. Gilbert, this is nuts! Don't you see, G. Maynard is impossible to work with!" he was panicking, he knew that twins revoked of their title disappeared, never to be heard of again, or at least that's the rumor. He never knew anyone personally who hadn't stacked up to the Evil Twin title!

            "Nothing is impossible young man. For the next month, assuming you follow all the rules, you will not be called in for performances reviews. Basically you will be free of my counsel and will use that time to pull yourself together. One month Mr. Chase." The rotund doctor became very serious, "think of this as your last opportunity to prove to myself and the Evil board that you are not a disgrace to your Evil title."

            Maynard stared at the doctor. He could not believe that he was being served his final thread.

            "What you're saying is that I have only 30 days? I've spent a lifetime trying everything and now it's come down to four weeks to determine the rest of MY life! I'm so screwed" Maynard slid low in the chair and dropped his head against his chest. Never had he expected his performance evaluation to result in this.

            "Don't think of it as a sentencing. Think of it as a golden opportunity to show us all what you're made of. I know that you are capable of great things. It might be a good idea to consult some of the other well known evils, they may prove to be very useful" Dr. Gilbert glanced at his watch. With great effort he rose from his chair and moved around the wide desk to give Maynard a brisk pat on the back. "Best of luck Mr. Chase. Please call if you need anything. Otherwise, I will see you in a few weeks."

            Maynard shrugged of the obligatory back pat and picked up his bag. He lumbered towards to the door but stopped halfway, feeling ashamed he hadn't shook the doctor's hand. It was not Dr. Filberts fault and he still deserved to be treated with respect.

            "Thank you sir. I will try." Maynard squeezed a little harder than he normally would out of frustration and to assert some sense of power, false or otherwise.

            "Goodbye Mr. Chase." Dr. Gilbert returned to his chair and began his torso led decent, hands clasped hovering over his belly button. The nostrils followed suite with their easy opening and closing.

            As he passed the secretary's desk, Maynard attempted once again to catch a glimpse of what she was always looking at. Maybe, up on that screen, was the secret to being the most successful evil twin ever known. He imagined that if he could just see what she was seeing then all his problems would be solved, that she had the answer and was hiding it from the rest of the world. However, the glare from the halogen lights bounced off the screen making it impossible to read and he passed again with no knowledge gained.

            "Goodbye Mr. Chase. Have an excellent afternoon," the secretary kept her beady eyes glued to the screen.

            "Goodbye.... ma'am." Maynard mumbled the last part. He had never bothered to learn her name; she was just a strange facet of the office. She was as familiar as the chair he always sat on and the ink stain on the carpet, neither had names. The secretary, whatever her name was, had become a part of the scenery. He shot a look over his shoulder to see if she was watching him leave. Of course she wasn't, maybe he was an equal part of the mundane to her. He made a mental note to learn the secretary's name next time he came in, after all she knew his.

            No sooner had he stepped onto the street did his phone start ringing in Maynard's pocket. The distinctive ring was the tone he had assigned to his mother and the sound of it made him cringe. For a moment his thumb hovered over the "ignore" button knowing that if he hit it she would just call and call and call until he eventually picked up. Everything was urgent to her; she found a new recipe that she just had to tell him about rightnow! The cat ate a bumblebee and she had to tell him rightnow! Everything was rightnow!

            "Hi mother." Maynard answered trying to hide his annoyance.

            "Hello mayny dear!"

A normal person would ask how the caller was doing, but Maynard knew his mom better than that, she wasn't done talking yet.

            "I just wanted to tell you that I ran into your friend Gaven Hutson. I was at the grocery store, putting away all my bags when he came over to say hi. He told me he just got a position on the ET counsel, he's an intern! How exciting is that?"

            It wasn't exciting. Gaven was not what he would call a friend. They had lived across the hall from each other during Evil College, but that is as far as their relationship went.

            "Good for him." Maynard responded half-heartedly.

            "Absolutely! Very exciting. Maybe he can help you with your twin problem."

            "What twin problem?" he hadn't told his mother that he had been seeing Dr. Gilbert so often, and certainly hadn't told her that his evilness was lacking.

            "Didn't I tell you I ran into Troy at the post office the other day?"

Troy was Maynard's roommate, but he hadn't mentioned running into his mother.

            "No you didn't. What did he tell you exactly?" He could only imagine what troy had told her.

            "He just mentioned that you had been seeing a lot of Dr. Gilbert lately. You know there is nothing wrong with hitting a little bump in the road."

            OF course Troy told her about his all too common meetings with Dr. Gilbert. He loved his mother. That was a given, but he did not love her need to talk to everyone about anything. She was such a sweet lady. The kind of mother everyone wished they had, save for her own children.

            "Yea. It's okay mom, really. Everything is fine. It's just.... fine."

            "Mayny. I'm your mother you know."

            "Really? Are you the lady who gave birth to me?" Maynard quipped.

            "You're beginning to make me wish I wasn't with that attitude."

            "I just don't want you to worry about anything. Dr. Gilbert just wants to touch base and make sure everything is going well."

            He could hear his mother sigh on the other end. Telling a mom not to worry about her child is like telling a bird not to fly.

            "I'll always worry Maynard." her voice softened, her words full of love and honesty.

            "Of course you will mother dear. That is your full time job. Just know that if anything was wrong, I would tell any number of acquaintances and they would be sure to tell you." He joked.

            "You're so funny kid. Ok, Mayny I just wanted to make sure you were alright, because I love you."

            "Thanks Mother. I love you too." he waited a second before hanging up. Good-byes with his mom were never quick.

            "Oh, before you hang up. Will you be coming to dinner on Sunday?"

            "What are you cooking?"

            "I don't know! It's only Tuesday, I'll know on Sunday. Are you going to be there or not?" his mother replied quickly.

            "Maybe you could cook lasagna?"

            "I don't know Maynard. Show up on Sunday and you'll eat what is made."

Maynard laughed, "Of course I'll be there. I value my life too much not to show up."

            "Oh geez, Maynard!" she scoffed.

            "See you on Sunday, Mom." He hoped this was the end of the conversation. The phone was becoming hot against his cheek and he just wanted to finish his walk home in silence.

            "Bye, bye. Love you."

He waited for the click on the other end and grumbled silently when it didn't come right away.

            "Are you going to say I love you?" she inquired.

            "Mom, I just said it!"

            "Well?"

            "I love you too."

            "You better." Click.

With a quick tap, Maynard turned his phone to silent and shoved it back in his pocket. His home wasn’t far from the Career Center, but he felt like the short walk would somehow provide him with the epiphany he desperately needed.  It was times like these he wished trees and bushes and clouds and any other inanimate object would talk, maybe they would have some knowledge.

“What do you say squirrel,” he frowned at the rodent as it ran across his path, “any great ideas in that tiny brain of yours or are you consumed by images of acorns and walnuts?”

Of course the squirrel didn’t have the answers, all it had was an evolutionary drive to do what squirrels do. Maynard envied the animal kingdom for that reason. Most creatures do what they do because it is what their instincts push them to do. Humans are burdened with autonomous thought. Being evil was as much a part of his genes as his hair color, but his evil ways were not borne of instinct like the squirrels burying rituals. The genes coded for evil, but the brain had to produce the thoughts to produce the actions to get his job done and right now Maynard cursed all that gray matter for failing him all this time.

The Evil College came into view as he rounded the corner towards his apartment. Living right across from the institution had been beneficial when he was a student there, but now more than ever he wished he had moved. That place represented promise at one time and the students bustling through the doors out front were still quivering with the notion of hope. Maynard scoffed, what did they know of hope?

“You’re better off without that place!” he cried at the slate gray walls. The bitter words weren’t loud enough for the students to hear, but just letting them out brought Maynard a bit of relief from the frustration he was dealing with. With a final insulting fist shake he marched on and up the steps of his building. Inside the lobby he gave his arms a little shake and hoped Troy was out. He pulled his shoulders back and mocked confidence just in case his roommate was home.

The lights were all out when he entered, which wasn’t a solid indicator of whether the place was vacant or not.

“Troy?” Maynard called down the hall as he slipped his shoes off. When there wasn’t a response he called again a little louder, “Troy? Are you here?”

Still nothing.

Some days Maynard wondered why he bothered at all. Most of the time Troy was locked in his room, headphones on, bobbing his head to some unheard rhythm as he worked on his latest project.  Mostly it was some painting that was going to “revolutionize modern art”, but every now and then after failing to produce any from of sellable art, Troy immerse himself in completely different medium that would certainly be a better bet.  Last time Maynard ventured into Troy’s room he was almost knocked out by spray paint fumes. In his obsessed mania Troy forgot to open the windows and Maynard had found him in a fume induced stupor.

As he reached for Troy’s door, he hoped that today wasn’t one of the more manic days. He knocked quickly, sucked in a breath, held it and hoped for the best.

“Come in.” Troy’s voice was muffled behind the door.

Inside the room Troy was hunched over his desk, marker tucked behind one ear, and a straw behind the other. One hand lay atop the desk and was gripping a purple marker while the other vibrated furiously back and forth, erasing something. Troy’s curly, black hair shimmied around with each fast stroke of the eraser.

“Mayn, I sure hope that’s you standing in my doorway.” Troy didn’t look up.

“And what if it wasn’t?” Maynard replied.

“How was the good doc?” he ignored the question and stopped working.

“Fine.”

It was only then that Troy turned. An expression of amused doubt was plastered on his face. “That’s a load of shit. I tried calling and you didn’t pick up. You never pick up when you’re having a shit day.”

Maynard dug his phone from his pocket and flicked through the missed calls; Troy, Troy, Troy.

“So how was it really?” Troy prodded.

“What are you working on?” He attempted a weak diversion.

Surprisingly it worked.

“This,” Troy smiled as he tapped the doodle covered page in front of him, “is going to change the face of modern art.”

“Do go on,” Maynard rolled his eyes, here he goes again.

“I’m just kidding. This is actually just a stupid comic strip.”

            

Unfinished Business: Evil Twin Version 1

Have you ever had a day where you misplaced your keys, wallet, cell phone, mind, and swore you left it the first place you looked? Has an important letter ever been lost in the mail?  Has the power ever gone out or your computer crashed right in the middle of an important task that you're two keystrokes away form finishing only to find you lost it all? Life is full of little annoyances.
What if there was a specific reason for them?
What if you had an evil twin who was responsible for all those things?


That's what this one is about. The life of an evil twin who is really terrible at it. I actually began two different versions of the story.


Here is the first

**********

To say that E. Mary Parker sucked at her job would be the understatement of the year. A blind goat could have had more success than her. A deaf bat would certainly do a much better job than she. Mary needed help. A lot of it. So after many failures her boss had had enough and sent her off to the best career councilor in town as a desperate attempt to get his employee on the right track to success. He was doubtful.  Mary, on the other hand, was excited. She was ready to prove that with a little extra help she would be able to do her job right, and even do it well!

“Miss E. Parker?” the secretary called.

“Yes. Me! That is me!” Mary responded, jumping up from her chair. As she jumped, her purse tumbled off her lap and crashed to the floor allowing the contents to escape. “Oh shoot. Just a second!” Trying not to blush Mary frantically scooped her belongings back into her bag. On hands and knees she scuttled across the waiting room floor chasing after a tube of lipstick that was determined to get away.

“Do you need a hand?” the secretary leaned across her desk to see Mary crawling away.

“No, no. It’s fine.” She brushed her off as she grabbed the rogue lipstick,” I’ve got it.”

“If you’ll just follow me, I’ll take you to Mr. Kuebreck’s office.” The secretary waited for Mary to gather her things. Mary flashed the patient woman a quick smile as she shoved things into her purse. There was more in that sack than Mary remembered having in there and she made a mental note to start carrying just a wallet again; less stuff to worry about carpeting a floor with.

“Alright, I think that’s everything.” Mary smiled widely, “Take me away!”

A normal person would be nervous, but Mary was too filled with excitement and anticipation to be nervous. Her heart stopped as she passed each door; maybe this was the door to her future! Maybe this one was! The secretary seemed to walk past thirty doors in as many seconds, that lady was quick. Mary kept a grin plastered to her face so she would make the best impression possible.

“Here you are Miss Parker.” The woman turned the handle of the door to her right and held it open for Mary to pass through, “Good luck.” She didn’t mean it. Not that Mary thought she needed it, but she figured if someone was going to wish for luck, they had better mean it!

“Thank you Ma’am.” The secretary’s eyebrows crept towards her nose as she gave Mary a look of sheer confusion. The woman was not much older than Mary herself and was apparently confused by being referred to as a “Ma’am”. She shook her head quickly as Mary moved into the office.

Mr. Kuebreck was a tall man; even sitting Mary could see he was at least a head taller than her. 

“Miss Parker, it is nice to see you.” He seemed to sprout from behind the desk as he stood. His office chair must not have had legs because he was way taller then she expected.

“Thank you sir.” Mary pulled her shoulders back and tilted her head towards the roof in an attempt to lengthen her spine. She wanted to look taller and confident, but she ended up looking like a terrible imitation of a giraffe.

They both slid their hands forward to give an obligatory handshake. His fingers were as long as her entire hand and they could almost wrap around Mary’s palm twice. She gave him an extra squeeze before he slid his arm back. Once she had read that whoever gets the last squeeze holds the power.

“You can call me Mary.” She blurted. She didn’t want this meeting to be all stuffy.

“Alright Mary. I’m Mr. Kuebreck. I’m glad to see you here at the career counseling center, and I hope that I will be able to get you back on track to being the best evil twin you can be.” 

Unfinished Business: Little Love

Back in the fall I did some writing for a short story contest.  This piece was one I started working on, but stopped because it was already too long and I hadn't even got into the story. It was set to be a story of  navigating the unexpected and learning to  love something the character never wanted. That sounds really lame when I put it like that. Here it is, the first unfinished business entry.

            I had a baby. Have. I have a baby. I didn’t birth one and then get rid of it or anything, nope, I kept it, begrudgingly. She’s pretty cute when she’s not pooping, peeing, crying, or spitting up, which is about three percent of time. Let me tell you though, I can put up with the ninety-seven percent  of suck for that tiny three percent of heart melting, tear inducing,  almost unbearable cuteness. The way her tiny hands curl open and close as if she’s milking an invisible goat right before she falls asleep makes me want to punch kittens because they will never be as adorable as that little creature. Don’t worry, I haven’t gone all Mike Tyson on a littler of calicos., but they might as well be baby cockroaches.  Lila is only a week old and up until a week ago I never EVER wanted kids. Wait a second, you were still pregnant a week ago! Yes, and I still didn’t want the kid, not even a bit, but life is funny like that, sometimes the one thing you never wanted is exactly what you need.

*****

            “Please stop swearing love,” Jacob said for the third time.

            “I can’t! If I stop I’ll start crying. This is worse than when my mother died!”

            “Kristy!” Jacob snapped.

            I didn’t really mean that, but I was getting the impression that Jacob had missed the weight of the situation, “This can’t be happening. It can’t!”

            Jacob was so calm I thought for a second he had died from shock. I reached across and placed my fingers against his neck. He recoiled quickly.

            “What are you doing!”

            “What are YOU doing!? Why aren’t you freaking out?”

            He shrugged, “It’s just a baby Kristy. It’s not cancer.”

            How could he be so nonchalant? Nothing about his demeanor suggested he was even slightly moved by my revealing that I was pregnant. For days I had been sick with worry over the whole situation and all he can do is shrug as if I had just told him that we missed garbage day again.

            I tossed the pregnancy test across the bathroom floor, I didn’t want to hold it, or see it, or even think about it. That was the fifth I had taken in as many days and with each progressive positive I had grown more and more disgusted.  I had lived in this body for thirty years. It was my body and I didn’t want some thing taking up space inside it and ruin everything I loved about it.  

            Jacob picked up the test and placed on the counter, “I want to keep it.”

            “That’s gross! I just peed all over that thing!”

            “What?” his eyebrows crept towards the center of his forehead, “The baby. I want to keep the baby.”  His voice didn’t waiver, he didn’t look away nor smile or even frown.  “Maybe you should keep this, put it in the baby book.” He slid the stick across the counter towards me.

            I locked my eyes on his, grabbed the test between two fingers and dropped in the trash. Not a muscle in his face moved, if  it upset him, it didn’t show. He was so good at hiding his emotions. I wanted to ball my fists and pound them against him, any part of him, just to get a reaction. 

            “I don’t . Being pregnant doesn’t change my opinion. I don’t want kids,” I got up from the edge of the bath where I had been perched and brushed past him, “never did.”

            His hand clasped my wrist and he tugged me towards him, gently, but purposely. “I know, you’ve always been open about that, but maybe this is supposed to mean something. Maybe you…. We … were meant to do this. Be parents. Good parents even.”  For a moment I wanted to believe him, but my history of mysterious goldfish deaths suggested my parenting skills were pathetically lacking.

            “I don’t even like other people’s babies. They have all those weird rolls and they can’t say anything so they make ridiculous sounds all the time. Parents of children always look so dejected. Some of them even forget how to dress like adults!“

            “Everyone likes babies. I’ve seen you crack a smile when my nieces are around”

            “I smile because I’m so overjoyed that they aren’t mine and that I don’t have any and that some else does and that their life must REALLY suck!”

            Jacob’s eyes closed for a second and he breathed a heavy sigh, “So what do you want to do then, since my opinion doesn’t seem to matter.”

            He was hurt, I could tell that much. What could I do? I had three options, keep it, give it up for adoption and another option that was not even a real option. I’m all about pro-choice for others, but for me it was always pro-life, even a life that I didn’t really believe I’d ever have to choose.  I looked at Jacob and knew that I really only had one option, his heart would shatter if I told him that I wanted someone else, someone who wanted this, to raise our child. I loved that man more than anything and maybe, just maybe, I could love the life that was going to ruin mine!

            “Of course your opinion matters. This is important to you and you are important to me.” I buried my head in my arms and mumbled, “Let’s keep it.”

            “Sorry, I didn’t catch that. Did you say-“

            “We’ll keep it.”  I repeated a little louder, through gritted teeth. It felt like the right thing to do, but I still had approximately seven or eight months to change my mind.