Tuesday, March 31, 2009


Everyone makes mistakes and if you are lucky...you live through them and learn something.

I was more than obvious that I was under the influence of something. And when everything went black after I hit my head, my head kept screaming at me about how stupid I was. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I couldn't see anything and every sound echoed painfully in my ears. I felt myself being lifted and then carefully put down on something so soft. I was trying to move. Trying to speak. Trying to do anything but just lay there.

Someone turned my head to the side and I felt a stinging cold on the back of my head. I hit it hard and it was throbbing like something was trying to escape from within my brain.

"That's a bad one," I thought I heard Chris whisper. It could have been him. Or maybe it was God. Because I could swear I was dying or already dead.

I faded out or something but the cold, wet something that tickled my stomach brought me back enough to just feel. My shirt was pulled up half way and there was hands and maybe lips touching the skin of my stomach. I wanted to scream. I wanted to stand up and fight it away, but I still couldn't move or see or speak. For a brief moment, I wanted to die.

"You are as beautiful as I thought you would be." I was sure it was Chris' voice this time.

I felt like I was going to puke. I had to get out of this situation, I had to. I concentrated on opening my eyes. It took, what seemed like, forever to get them open and when I did, I wanted to close them again. He was licking and kissing my stomach with his shirt off. He was shaking and sweating and the memory of MM's dad, the last night I saw her, flooded me. Both men knew that what they were doing was so wrong, but they still went on with it.

I could feel him unbuttoning my jeans and pure fear filled with adrenalin flowed through my veins. I was not going to let this happen. He pulled down my zipper and was about to slide his hand down my pants but there was a knock on the door. I silently thanked God.

At first, he froze. So still, I had almost thought that he had gone. But when the person at the door banged harder and longer, he removed his hands from me. He pulled on his shirt and walked out his bedroom door.

I knew this was going to be my only chance. I tried several times to scream...something, anything. All that would come out was a loud whisper. I struggled to move my hands, my feet, my arms, anything. Nothing was easy. But finally, I was able to sit up. I was so fucking dizzy and everything kept fading in and out of the darkness. With a little more effort, I got my legs to move and then my arms.

I heard the front door slam. Chris walked back in the bedroom and smiled at me. "Are you okay?" he asked. "You hit your head pretty hard."

I still couldn't speak. It took too much effort. I brought my hands to my face, trying to clear my head enough for me to get away. It was like my brain signals to my limbs was being blocked. I was trying so hard to force my legs to the side of the bed so I could get up but they weren't listening. All I could get was twitches in my feet.

"You should really lay back down." Chris walked over to me, and with the slightest pressure on my shoulder, pushed me back down on the pillow.

He pulled off his shirt again and sat beside me, brushing my hair from my face. If I could just stop the world from spinning, I kept thinking, then I could concentrate enough to get away. He leaned over and kissed my forehead. His grin disgusted me.

I closed my eyes. I had never felt so defenseless in my entire life. He knew exactly what was going to happen that day. He had a plan. He knew I wouldn't go in his house willingly. He knew that whatever drug he had given me would make me...weak. It would make me unable to fight. I wasn't sure how much the blow to my head had helped the drugs and his plan because I didn't know what he had given me. I started to doubt that I had fallen at all. I began to think that he probably hit me with something. And if he did hit me with something, there was no guarantee that he wasn't going to do it again.

I felt his weight shift. He crawled on top of me and had lifted my shirt again. This time, he lifted it higher. My chest was exposed. He looked up at me and smiled again.

"I am going to make you feel so good. So much better than M ever could." He slid up my body and kissed me hard. And when I wouldn't open my mouth, he bit my lips even harder. "Come on. I know this is what you want." His voice was angry and evil.

His mouth moved to my neck. His tongue, his teeth, his lips, were all over my skin. I was going to throw up. His hands were touching me, gripping me, grabbing me. He moved his hand between my legs and tried to spread them. With everything I could conjure inside of me, I raised my knee at full force and nailed him in the crotch. He gasped for breath and rolled over to my side. It was like I was in slow motion, but I pushed myself up and to the edge of the bed. He grabbed for me but I slung my elbow back and hit him in the face. I took a deep breath and pushed myself up off the bed. He reached for me again and grabbed my left arm.

No way, I thought. This is not going to happen like this and it is never going to happen with him. With the little energy I had left, I balled the fist of my right hand and swung, aiming at his crotch again. He let me go.

I had very little energy left. And as I tried to move to get out of his room, I looked around for something I could use as a weapon if I needed to. That's when I saw it all. There were pictures of me everywhere. Drawing and actual photo's. His room was covered, floor to ceiling, wall to wall, with me. Chris was so much more than sick. I got the bedroom door open and I could hear him struggling behind me.

I felt like I was about to black out again but I fought it with everything I could. I made it out his door, he was limping behind me and I knew he was catching me. The front door looked so far away and it seemed to be swaying or something, but then I realized I was the one swaying. I fell to the floor and started to crawl. I wasn't going to give up.

He caught me, grabbing my leg, and began to drag me back to his room. He was ranting something but nothing made sense. I put my arms out and held on to the edge of the walls. He pulled harder and I thought my shoulder muscles were going to rip in half. I raised my other leg and kicked him in the side of his knee. I kept kicking that knee until he let me go. He yelled loud in pain and hit the floor. I crawled as fast as I could to that damn front door. I flung it open and fell down the front steps. The light was stinging my eyes and seeing was so difficult. I searched, with my hands, for my skateboard.

"B!" I heard Shane yell out. "B, are you okay."
When his hand grabbed my shoulder, I swung at him. I wasn't sure it was really him.
"B, its me. Its Shane." He lifted me to my feet.
"My board. Where is it?" I asked in a rasp.
I heard the wood of my deck hit the steps. He pushed it in my hand. "What the fuck is going on?"
"Shane, just help me get the hell out of here." I squinted my eyes, still struggling to see.
"I'm gonna fucking kill him," Shane yelled. "Did he unbutton your pants? And your fucking bleeding, he is so dead."

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Fade to black

Yeah, back then.

It took so long for the pain of missing her to finally fade into a dull ache. I didn't know how desperate I was to hear any news of where she was until Chris offered it.

I didn't trust him. He wasn't just a year or two older than me, he was six years older than me. I thought he was some kind of sicko, the way he followed me around and was always drawing me. He was infatuated, fixated, and he made me nervous. Nervous in a bad way.

I had tried everything to get him to back off. I tried being nice. I tried being mean. Then I came to the point of just ignoring that he existed, which was hard as hell because he was always right behind me no matter where I was. (There were times I'd caught him outside my house at night.) He was just always there. And it creeped me out to the core.

So when he said he had news, I jumped. I wanted, needed to know that she was okay.

"Just fucking tell me, Chris." I was at the point to where I wanted to beat the shit out of him.
He had this goofy smirk on his face. He knew exactly what he was doing. "I'll tell you tomorrow. Come to my house. Around ten," he said,he glanced around us. "I'll tell you then."

It pissed me off. What pissed me off more was that he was sitting where she would sit when she watched me skate. That was her spot. But with him sitting there, I couldn't see her. I couldn't feel her and I wanted to, so bad. Who did he think he was anyway? Did he think that he could just take her place in my life? Did he think I would ever let him in? He was crazy and the more I think about it, so was I for letting him follow me. I should have called the cops, or better yet, Grandpa.

Nothing felt the same anymore. School started and everyone asked for her. They asked me so many times that I got tired of answering. So I wrote a story. A story of the summer my best friend had ran away. I made copies. Tons of copies and every time they asked, I'd hand them the paper. It hurt to talk about her. It hurt to think about her. It hurt to be in the places that we would go to. It hurt to be without her.

The next day, I woke up before the sun as usual. I grabbed my board and hit the concrete, heading up to the old rec hall. I worked on my street skating not for any other reason than it hurt too much to go to the ramp. I just couldn't do it anymore. I was so angry but so confused at what exactly I was angry about. Was it her? Was it her father? Was it myself for not making her leave with me that night? Or maybe, I was mad at Chris. For stalking me and never giving us any privacy. Fuck it! I was mad at the world and how unfair life seemed to be for most. That was the day I embraced the "fuck the world" attitude that I later became famous for.

I had no idea what time it was, but I didn't want to wait much longer for any information about her. I headed towards his house...ten streets then right. Two streets then another right. I got a bad feeling before I even walked up to the door. I didn't want to be there alone and it was stupid for me to go there. I turned around. I was going to go back and get Shane. I had told him about the meeting but I forgot to ask him to come with.

I dropped my board and stepped down when his front door opened.
"I thought I heard you out here," he grinned.
"Listen, I'm gonna go to the ramp. If you wanna tell me, tell me there. If not, then I really don't fucking care," I said, putting both feet on my board.
"No, no," he waved. "It will just take a second. I wanna show you something anyway. A drawing I did of the two of you." He walked out to the street to meet me. "Please come in?"

You know when you feel like you should run and scream bloody murder but your body feels like dead weight and you can't move? That's exactly what I felt. I just knew that going in his house was not going to be good. I had to make a plan, and fast. I glanced around looking for any signs of life, any windows open, anyone driving around in their cars. I wanted someone else to see me there. But there was no one.

"I don't wanna come in, Chris. I'll sit on the front steps but I don't want to go in," I explained. The words that wanted to leave my throat were how I thought he was weird and would probably chop me up in pieces or something.

There was a strange bewilderment in his eyes. He was looking at me like I was a prized possession or a t-bone steak and I started to shake. Not because I was scared but because I was grossed out. He noticed.

"Okay, the steps are just fine." He grabbed my hand. His hand was sweaty and sticky.
I pulled my hand away and shook my head. "Don't. Don't touch me, Chris. I mean it."
He put both his hands up in the air. "No problem."

I kicked up my board and followed him to the stairs. I sat on the bottom step, with my back against the railing and my board sitting on my lap. I knew how to use it as a weapon if I needed to. He went inside and came out with a stack of papers and two glasses of tea. I took the offered glass without even thinking about it. I was too interested in the papers.

"Its apple tea. It has a tang to it, but you'll like it," he smiled. "My mom made it."

I took a sip. He was right about the tang but it also had a burn to it that I couldn't figure out. But it was sweet and cold, so I kept drinking.
One by one, he handed me his sketches. He might have been a weird ass freak but he was definitely an amazing artist. He could catch a moment of time and make you feel it. I laughed at the few he had of us playing mud football and the one's of Chow doing his famous back flips. I was glad to see that I wasn't the only one he was drawing. Half way through the pile, I finished my tea. He left me with his work while he refilled the glass. The deeper I got into the pile, the less I saw of my friends.

All of them were mostly me. One that I can really remember was of me running through my friends, playing mud football. But the only one that wasn't blurred was me. It was one of the coolest concepts I had ever seen and his knowledge of my muscle structure was dead on. I felt like I was looking in a mirror. But, most of all, I felt dizzy. Real dizzy.

I closed my eyes for a second to try to clear my head. When I opened them again, he was standing there with that glass of tea.
"Are you okay?" he asked as he knelt beside me.
"Yeah, I'm uh," I shook my head, "a little dizzy from your drawing. I think." I shuffled the drawing to the back of the pile and looked at the new page in front of me. That must have been it, I thought.
"Maybe you're a little overheated or something. It is pretty humid out here today." He sat down beside me and ducked to look at me.
"I'm okay," I decided. I didn't want him to think that I wasn't okay.

I kept looking at the pictures, pausing at the ones of her and me sitting on the curb. Everything began to get fuzzy and her face looked distorted. I was beginning to think that I was overheated, so I downed the rest of my tea. This time, when he got up to get me another drink, I told him that ice water would be better.

The world started spinning and it was then that I realized I was in trouble. I collected his art that was scattered across my board and placed it on the step above me. I had to get out of there. I had to leave. I tried to stand but everything was spinning so damn fast, I couldn't balance. I tried again, using my board as a crutch but it didn't help. Something was wrong, way wrong. He had to of put something in the tea. My last attempt at standing, I fell back and hit my head. Everything faded to gray then black. My last thought was, "Oh shit."

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Silly ass

Yesterday, Mick, J, and I drove over to Toccoa. I had only been there once before...many years ago. It seemed so much more run down than I remember it.

We were on our way back and Mick pulls into this parking lot. "If I pull in here, will you knock on the door and see if Betty still lives there?"

"Sure," I said and unbuckled my seat belt. I'm ready to climb out of the truck. "Which door?"

"That last one on the bottom." I knew something was up when he started laughing. "Yeah, that Betty was a hooker. You reckon she still lives there?"

With my hand on the door handle, I paused and looked at him. "Are you serious? You want me to knock on a hookers door? Oh well, there's only one way to find out." I started to open the door, which I think surprised him.

He started laughing again and started to drive off. He pulled a u-turn and stopped at a convenience store. As we were leaving he says, "So, will you knock on that door and act like you're on crack and see if they got any drugs?"

I have no idea what people on crack act like but I was sure I could come up with something so I shrugged. If he was going to play around, I was not going to back down. (Mick is a real silly ass)

J laughed. "They'll probably ask you what you want and send you to the right door."

"The people at the first door will answer and say, 'What you want? I know where you can get that,' and they will drag you down that street and we'll never see you again." Mick was laughing at himself.

I don't think he's ever been to Sistrunk Blvd. to pick up a car at 2am or down 13th in Ft. Lauderdale, where the women jump out in front of your truck, half naked, to try to stop you or the gangs stand under the broken streetlight and try to carjack you if you are driving too slow. I'm not real sure that if he knew the dangerous places we had to drive, the dark alleys we had to deliver at, the sick people that we were approached by, and the real reasons we bought guns, that he would have let his daughter stay down there with me and run that company.

Maybe its best if he doesn't know.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

More about MM

I got an email from a friend that reads this blog. She had a few questions about the MM story. I figured I would answer them in here just in case.
Yes, MM is a real person and yes, the story is true. She lived one house away from my grandma and my uncle (Shane in the story. And yes, he's only a year older than me.) and I lived a few streets down the road.
What's up with the Chris I keep mentioning? I had to keep him in the story because I might tell the story of him later. That's why I called this blog life of times. Every time in my life that I write about was a piece of the puzzle that has become the person I am today. Little chapters of the story of me.
I really never heard from her again.
I think I found out the truth about what happened (between her and her dad) when I was about 26. For the longest time, I was completely shut out of the truth because they thought I was too young. That could have been the same reason MM never told me herself.
I was actually 26 when I came out. It was funny because when I told Shane he laughed and said he already knew. That he always thought me and MM would end up together. Back then, it never crossed my mind. I'm sure I thought we would be friends forever but I had no clue that I was really gay.
Any other questions? Leave a comment, I will answer. And there will be more to it, I'm just a little short on time right now.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

The Coon

A few days ago, I asked Mick what his pet raccoon's name was. I almost died laughing when he told me it was Kitty Cat. I'm still having trouble saying it with a straight face.
So, today when he came in from work he asked, "Have any of you seen my Kitty Cat?"
I was trying not to laugh because he really looked upset.
See, he has hunting dogs. So he made a fenced off area for his, uh, Kitty Cat (I swear I'm not laughing.) around the trees. The space is really for the coons safety. Well, today, Kitty Cat is gone. I think he might be afraid that one of his dogs got to her. I hope not.

Its so sad. He has been sitting by the front window since he got home. Waiting. Watching. I even went out and looked for the thing even though I'm sure that if I found it, it would rip me to shreds.

J got home from her aunts house and she decided to go out and look for it too.
"She probably moved on," Mick sighed. He sounded so upset but I had to laugh.
"You sound like a sad country song," I said, still laughing.
I could see him smile. I knew he would laugh to.
We both watched J walk around the fenced area. She was being so cautious. I bet she was having the same thoughts I was. Have you ever seen the claws on those things?
Mick started laughing his ass off. "Watch it come out from under that building and start chasing her ass."
I was in tears laughing at the thought. I'm sure it would be terrifying but it would be hilarious too. I really do love her, I swear.
J came back in and said, "She'll be gone for a day or so and then realize she had it made here."
"Well, I've seen some tracks around the fence. Some other coons probably came by and sprung her," Mick smiled. Meanwhile, he's still staring out the window. "She'll be like Rock. Bring 'em all back with her so I can feed 'em."
I am still laughing!

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Something Silly

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions. Pass it on to at least 10 people and include me!
Pick Your Artist: Joan Jett
Are you male or female: Activity Grrrl
Describe yourself: Real Wild Child
How do you feel about yourself: We're All Crazy Now
Describe where you currently live: Up From The Skies
If you could go anywhere, where would you go: Ridin' With James Dean
Your best friend is: Tulane
Your favorite color is: Baby Blue
You know that: Love Is Pain
What's the weather like: Call Me Lightning
If your life was a tv show, what would it be called? Rebel, Rebel
What is life to you: Just Like In The Movies
What is the best advice you have to give: Don't Surrender
If you could change your name, what would it be: Jezebel
Your favorite food is: Coney Island Whitefish
Your favorite time of the day is: Nitetime

No regrets, the end

It was the first and the last time I ever stayed at her house. Of course Mom said I could stay. After a little begging, her mom agreed too.

She had three brothers. Only one was older. And the youngest, well he looked nothing like the rest of them. She had her fathers eyes and pretty much everything else of his...except, she had her mom's smile. A much kinder smile than her fathers. He kind of gave me the creeps. Come to think of it, both her parents gave me the creeps.

She gave me a T-shirt to sleep in. It was my favorite T-shirt of hers. Iron Maiden with a kick ass picture of Eddie on the front. It was blue and white tie-dye and so fucking soft. It came down about mid-thigh on me. I took a quick shower and changed. I felt uncomfortable walking through her house in just my underwear and her T-shirt, so I pulled my jeans back on until I got to her room.

About ten minutes later, she was showered and back in her room too. I remember thinking that I wish that I was as beautiful as she was. Her long, dark hair. Her bright, shining eyes. Her perfect smile and her tall, lean frame. She had a tank top on that showed off the tight, firm muscles in her arms. And her shorts were just enough to cover what they needed to.

It was hours before we actually climbed into her bed. We went through her cassette and record collection. I sketched a few of her favorite album covers for her as she took pictures of me. She said she wanted memories. I didn't try to understand.

We had just shut off the light and crawled into her bed when her door handle started rattling. At first, I didn't know what it was and I reached for my skateboard. I figured that whatever it was, I could beat the shit out of it with my board.

"You better unlock this door," sounded an evilly loud whisper.

I was sure it was her dad or maybe her oldest brother. She was shaking uncontrollably next to me and her breathing became hard and loud. I clicked on the lamp.

"You okay?" I asked. She was making me nervous.
"Yeah," she whispered.
I got up and unlocked the door. "Hey, Mr. M," I smiled.
He looked shocked to see me. He wasn't home when Mrs. M agreed to let me stay over. I noticed his hands trembling and the sweat pouring out from under his hairline. And there was something in his eyes that I just couldn't place. Fear, nervousness, anxiousness, I didn't know. He grinned to try and hide the anger of the door being locked.
"I...uh, I was just checking to make sure you girls were alright. I thought I heard something." His voice was a little higher than normal with a raspy undertone that gave me the chills. I knew he was lying. "M? Can you come out here for a minute?"
"I'm really tired, Dad. Do I have too?"

From where I was standing, she was visibly shaking. There was fear in her eyes so plainly that I knew I had to do something. Say something. If she didn't want to be alone in the dark with him, then maybe I should just step outside the door. I had a plan.

"Mr. M, its cool. I'll step outside," I nodded and stepped just outside the door.

I didn't think he would close it but when he did, I felt panic. She really didn't want to be alone with him. So I searched for something to break or knock over that would make a loud enough noise to wake the dead. I found it in the form of a lamp. I didn't realize how angry I was until I raised that thing above my head and slammed it to the ground. It shattered into a million pieces and shards of glass sliced through the skin of my legs. "Shit," I mumbled.

It worked though. Her door flung open. Mrs. M and M's brothers came out of their rooms. I apologized profusely as Mrs. M bandaged my legs. She asked me several times if I wanted to go home and I kindly refused. There was no way I was ever going to leave M in that house alone. No one should be that afraid of their father.

"What happened?" Mrs. M asked as she helped me off the counter. M and her brothers were cleaning up the mess.
"Mr. M needed to talk with M or something, so I stepped outside the room. I was looking for a light to turn on and I accidentally hit the lamp. I tried to catch it before it hit the ground but I wasn't fast enough," I explained. If there was one thing I was really good at, it was lying...making up stories.
Mrs. M looked at me in confusion. That confusion quickly turned into anger and I didn't understand at all. Did she know something that I didn't?

"Honey," she called to Mr. M. "Come here please."
Her teeth were gritted and her fists were clinched. When Mr. M walked past me, I could smell his sweat and the look he gave me. Well, if looks could kill, I would have been dead. I finished helping clean up the mess that I had made. Mr. and Mrs. M vanished into their room at the other end of the house. I could hear them yelling and things breaking and all of us kids decided it would be best if we went back to our rooms. I made sure to lock the door behind us.

She was still shaking as we crawled up on the bed. As soon as I laid beside her, she wrapped herself around me. I clicked off the light and held her tight. She was crying, crying so hard that it shook the entire bed. I wasn't sure what had happen in those few minutes while the door was shut, but whatever it was, she didn't like it.

"Thank...thank you," she cried. "Thank you for being here. Thank you for breaking that lamp."

"Please tell what is going on, M. You know you can trust me. Maybe I can help?" I kissed the top of her head and squeezed her hand. I wanted to reassure her that I was one of the good guys. That, if she needed to get out of that house, that I would help her no matter what.

She wouldn't or couldn't say a word. She just shook even more and cried even harder.

"If he is hurting you...I will...M, I will...I'll tell my grandpa and he will take care of him. You'll never have to worry about him hurting you again. You just have to tell me. Please?"

She took a deep, deep breath and held me tighter. "That's why I love you. You mean everything you say." She found my eyes in the dark and kissed my cheek. "One peaceful night with you is really all I need."

I knew right then that she wasn't going to tell me. But, God. My guts were twisting inside me, my heartbeat felt hollow, and I wasn't sure I was breathing. Whatever he was doing to her, I had to find a way to make it stop. It was killing me seeing and feeling her that way.

"You could runaway," I offered. "Come stay with me. My mom works all the time, anyway. And besides, she likes you."

"You think?" Her voice perked up and she sounded like she was really considering it.

"Sure. I'll talk to my mom tomorrow. Things are tough right now, with my dad gone and everything. But I've been working all summer and things are getting easier. I'll just have to keep up with my lawn mowing gig." I kissed her head again. "We can make it work."

"I don't know." I heard doubt creeping in her voice. "My parents would probably call the cops and your mom would get arrested or something."

"Ah ha," I laughed. "And that's where Grandpa comes in." Nobody fucked with my Grandpa. And whatever he said was law.

"Let me think about it, okay." Her hand moved under my shirt and rested on the warm skin of my belly. "Just don't let me go."

I couldn't let her go. And I stayed awake all night, holding her and calming her as she cried. And when morning came, I didn't want to leave her. Her dad, he stared at me like he was plotting to kill me and her mom looked extremely sad. She would hardly look M in the eye. It was obvious they wanted me to leave. But I was so afraid that if I did, they would both hurt her. After breakfast, M walked me back to her room. I pulled on my Airwalks and was about to change back into my Megadeth shirt.

"No. Keep it. It looks better on you." She walked up to me and smoothed the wrinkles from the front of the shirt.

I tossed my Megadeth shirt to her. "Even trade," I smiled. "I'll wait for you, down at the ramp. I'll wait all damn day and night if I have to."

She laughed. "I know you will."

There was something about the hug that she gave me that felt so...final. Like it was the last time she would ever be able to hold me. I felt like crying. I felt like someone was ripping out my insides. Like the world was ending. She took my face in her hands and kissed my lips so gently.

"Don't...don't worry about me. No matter what happens." Tears welled in her eyes and I couldn't stop the ones that were sliding down my cheeks.

"Don't stay. M, please come with me? We can sneak out the window. They'll never know you're gone. Please," I begged.

"I'm gonna be fine," she whispered as she embraced me again. So tight that my breath left my body. "Always remember that I love you. Never forget me. I'll never forget you."

"M? I don't like the way you are talking. What is going on?" I gripped her tight. There was no way I was letting her go. No way. And I started crying harder.

"Promise me, B. Promise me you'll never forget me."

"I promise. I'll never forget you. And I love you too. Dammit, M! You are scaring the shit out of me."

"Don't be afraid. You're too tough for that. We both are. And you have given me the strength to do what I know has to be done."

She held me for a few minutes longer and she gave me another kiss as we parted. She walked me to the door and yelled, "Don't wait for me forever," as I waved and walked backwards.

"I have to, M. I have to." I waved again and watched her walk back in her house.

I sat at the end of her street all day and night. I finally went home when my mom came and got me. The next morning, I was at the end of her street again. Sometime around ten that morning, the cops showed up. No one would tell me what was going on.

Shane finally told me that she had ran away that night. That she had waited until my mom picked me up and then she left a note and disappeared. I never saw her again. God, but I dreamt of her every night. And a few times, at school, I thought I saw her standing off in the distance, watching me. But when I would try to get to her, she would vanish. I got a few phone calls. No one ever said anything, they just played music in the background. Songs that me and her would sing all the time. I knew she was trying to tell me she was okay. But they eventually stopped.

It took years for me to finally find out the truth. Her dad...he was molesting her. Had been for years. I finally understood what she meant by one peaceful night with me. They arrested him and as far as I know, he is still in jail.

But I kept my promise. I have never forgotten her. Never. And its the little things that remind me of her from day to day. She was my best friend. The first person I ever really loved...I just wish I would have known that that's what it was back then. But I have no regrets. We had the time of our lives that summer. And no matter what...I know she's okay. But it doesn't stop me from missing her.

Monday, March 23, 2009

They don't understand

I could never forget that night.

We were at Teenage Wasteland. There was only a tiny sliver of moon shining in the star filled sky and the hot summer air had chilled. We were trippin' hard and sippin' Sunkist. She never left my side.
We must have spent hours on our backs in the tall grass just staring at the ever changing sky, having conversations with the stars, and laughing because we knew it was a drug induced reality. We didn't even notice when the rest of our friends got up to start playing Body Snatchers.

Chris lingered beside us for a while. I have no idea when he finally left us alone but when we realized he was gone, we really started talking. Most of what we said, I can barely remember.

I started to feel sick as I watched the stars go to war above me. I couldn't slow any of it down. She took me by the hand and we walked to the old horse stalls. We found a secluded corner to sit in. Neither of us could handle the stars anymore. She sat against the old wood and I sat against her, my back to her chest. I sang some random Joan Jett tune while she raked her soothing fingers through my hair.

"I know that one day, you will be famous," she whispered. "You are going to be some star skateboarder, an artist, or a musician. I know it." She pulled me tighter to her. "Don't forget me."

I thought it was the drugs playing a trick on me when I heard her whisper that she loved me. I mean, I loved her too. She was my best friend and I looked up to her. And when I whispered that I loved her too, I heard her gasp.

"I could never forget you. Besides, if I go anywhere, I'm taking you with me," I promised. My eyes were closed and I was concentrating on the strange sensation her hands were causing to consume my body. Waves of I have no idea what. But it warmed me from the cool night air.

"You would take me with you?" Her lips were right next to my ear.

"Absolutely. My life would suck without you." What I wanted to say is that I would die without her. That she meant more to me than anyone I had even known. That in the three years I had known her, my life began to have some kind of meaning.

"I would be your biggest fan." She kissed the spot just in front of my ear and I smiled. Her lips were as soft as I had imagined.

I'd imagined kissing her millions of times but I didn't understand it. I mean, she was a girl and I was a girl and according to family members and other friends, that wasn't the way it was supposed to be. But see, I was a bit of a rebel and I figured that one day, I would prove them all wrong. Just not at that moment.

I laughed. "You already are my biggest fan. The only fan that matters."

In the silence, I must have slipped off to some sort of dream land. I remember thinking that I would never do shrooms again. And then Shane came around the corner and we both jumped.

His laugh kind of echoed and I had to shake my head to get a good view of him standing there with a smirk across his face. "Brad's sick. Do you guys have any Sunkist left?"

I held out my can that was still half full. "He can have the rest. Everyone else okay?"

"Yeah, well. Chris is a little bent out of shape but he'll live." That smirk grew wider. "Why don't you two just fuck and get it over with?"

I felt violently ill to my stomach. "Fuck no. No way. I'm not sleeping with him."

Shane laughed. "I'm not talking about Chris. I'm talking about you two." He shrugged and walked away.

She pulled me back into her arms, locking them around me. "Don't listen to those guys. They just don't understand."

Truth was, I really didn't either. The thought that he had just put in my head seemed so beautiful. So perfect. So right. But also, so wrong. But, Jesus, I was only 12. I know, I know. 12 year olds shouldn't be doing drugs but we shouldn't be thinking about sex either. I figured that I would have a lot of time before I would be walking down that road. The sex road that is. No matter what I felt for her, which still was a mystery in my head, the thought of sex seemed too much, too soon.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" She asked so quietly that I almost didn't hear her.

"Sure," I smiled. "I just gotta ask my mom. I'm sure it will be okay though."

It's Official!

It is Official "Tell your brother-in-law that he's an asshole" day!
You know the one. (Maybe you don't but mine is named Rock. And I call him rock because he's hard and useless.) The 26 year old that has been unemployed for over four, yes FOUR, years. The one that has been mooching off his father ever since he was born. The one that has a billion excuses for why he CAN'T get a job.
The highlight one's are as follows:
1. No one will hire me because I have no work history.
2. I can't cook German food.
3. I have a misdemeanor on my record (that was dropped and withheld judification(sp?)... so really, its not on his record. He forgets that I come from a long line of inmates. I know the legal system).
4. I don't have a ride. (His dad bought him a truck when he used this excuse and he never even attempted to get a job with it.)

Yeah, this brother-in-law. The walking, talking, useless piece of shit who thinks he is the smartest human in the world. (He dropped out one week before graduation.) He gives away YOUR things to his druggie friends. When you buy groceries, he invites said useless friends over and feeds them or gives them the food. The one that only hangs out with the guys that will give him free weed. The one who has never, I repeat NEVER contributed anything to the house full of family that he mooches off of. The one that demands you (his dad) to give him money so he can use for something he won't tell you or he makes up a lie that is so off the fucking wall, that a two year old wouldn't believe it.

Real reasons that he won't get a job:
1. Because he can't pass a drug test.
2. He's fucking lazy.
3. Because he might actually have to WORK.
4. Because there might be a party somewhere that he wants to go to and he might not have the day off.

Okay. So I'm pissed. But out of respect for my girl, I've contained myself in the bedroom. Another ten seconds of listening to his fucking bullshit and I might have beat the fuck out of him. I think what gets me the most is that J nor her father will stand up and tell him to fuck off and fend for his self. And I'm in here, chewing my lip and biting my tongue so I don't say what they have been aching to say for all these years but haven't. Its not my place and I know it. But dammit! If that was my brother, he'd be flying out the front door with my shoe stuck up his ass. Besides, my brother knows the meaning of respect.

J knows I'm pissed. She keeps coming in here and telling me that she loves me. She knows I'm going to write about it too, because I have to let it out somehow. But she also knows that it takes a hell of a lot to get me mad and when I finally give in to the emotion I find useless, anger, you either clear the room or be ready for the fury of hell.

And when he raised his voice to J, (one of his friends walked in the house wearing J's pants and she confronted him about it) I almost knocked out his teeth. I'm still tempted. He actually told her that it was no big deal that he gave her clothes away and that she shouldn't be mad. Fucking idiot!

I never needed a reason

Yesterday, I wrote a blog entry on Myspace about the Astronomy night thing. It was longer than the one I wrote in here. J always reads that blog. (I don't think she's even peeked at this one.)

Part of what I wrote was, "If space is infinite, it kind of makes me feel small and insignificant." Or something along those lines.

Last night, I was in bed reading a book ("Red Light" by JD Glass) and J crawls up beside me. This is what she said.

"You shouldn't feel small and insignificant because, to me...you are my whole world. And if I didn't have you, the world as I know it wouldn't exist."

And that's only one of the millions of reasons that I love her.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Daily injury status report

Shannon came over today with her boyfriend, Rob. Shannon definitely wasn't dressed for riding the four wheeler, so I got Rob to ride with me. We had a good time and, when we were about finished riding, Rob talked Shannon into taking a ride with him. She really wasn't dressed for it...loose fitting skirt and a too small and tight shirt. By the time they came back up the driveway, she was almost naked.

I took one last run through the trails before I parked it. The trails we were riding are becoming easily noticeable now so it should have been no problem to maneuver.

I rode the steep incline to the top of the mountain, slid around the fallen tree, swerved around the rock, and turned the corner to the circle. Out of nowhere, BAM! I still don't know where the branch came from but it damn near knocked me off the machine.

So, my injury report for today...fat lip with a nice cut on the inside of it and a scratch along the side of my nose. Ain't I purty...lmao. It was so worth it. J is making me get a helmet...arrrggghh! And its such a small scratch!

Astronomy night was pretty cool. We learned a lot of stuff that I probably learned in school but can't remember. Like the life cycle of stars and stuff about the moons craters. At the end of the lecture, we looked through a few telescopes they had set up. We got to see Saturn, which was way cool. But J might say that when I started laughing with a mouth full of water and ended up spitting it out all over the place (including on the backs of the two girls in front of us...I apologized) was the coolest part of the night. I guess I can think of it as funny now, but I didn't think so last night. And the reason I was laughing...J and Shannon said 'no' right after each other. I still have no idea what I found so damn funny about that.

The cool things about living in the North Georgia Mountains:
The speed limit is 55 pretty much anywhere you go.
Anna Ruby Falls.
Building a fire and roasting marshmallows, all in your own back yard.
Friends and guitars and bad singing around that fire and no one complains that we are making too much noise.
J and her amazingly funny family. (You gotta hear Aunt Rita's cat stories.)
Riding the four wheeler without worrying if the cops are going to come and give us tickets for trespassing or try to arrest us.

Make me crazy

I remember that day so clearly that if I close my eyes, I can still feel it.

Mud football. Our favorite summer time sport. Bobby's dad cleared a spot for us to play down by the paper tree's. And the tree's were blooming. The smell of potatoes filled the air around us. The late night summer rain had made the perfect thickness of mud to play in.

She had her hair pulled back and she offered to tie mine back too. I got picked for my team first. I was the smallest and fastest and, well...Shane was my uncle. (He's only a year older than me.) It didn't take much convincing, so he picked her too. We were a great team.

There was this new kid, I don't remember his name, and he was supposed to block me. He was slow and hesitant on his feet. It was too easy to get past him. I heard his team captain tell him that Brad was going to block me and the kid was pissed and refused.

"I'll get her this time," he yelled through gritted teeth. He was mad, real mad, and she had her eye on him.

I was going in for the touch down and he finally caught me. He brought me down, but that wasn't enough for him. He came down, both his knees to my stomach. It knocked the wind out of me but I still managed to get up. I didn't care how much bigger than me he was, I was going to kick his fucking ass.

But she beat me to it. She had his hair curled in her hands and was showing his face a close up view of her knee. And when he went down, she put her forearm to his throat as she pounded her fists to his face. Shane gave me a sideways glance and then shrugged. Brad looked at me and shook his head.
"What?" I asked them both. It wasn't my fault the guy couldn't handle being out played by a girl. And it certainly wasn't my fault that she jumped on him to kick his ass. He deserved it.

Brad tried to pull his sister off the guy. The guys face was nothing but blood now. Brad failed, so Shane pushed me forward. "She's your girl. Make her stop before she kills him."

I got down on my knees and reached for her shoulders. "Hey! M, please. That's enough. I think he got the point."
She finally looked up at me, her eyes full of tears. She was shaking all over and her hand was covered in his blood and her own. She clamped her hand around his throat and got two inches from his face. I could smell his fear. "You touch her again and I will kill you. Do you understand?" Her voice sounded like pure fucking evil.
"Come on, " I said as I stood. I grabbed her hand and mentioned to my uncle that we were done for the day. He had a strange smile on his face that I just couldn't make sense of. Brad just looked pissed. As we walked away, Jesse called out, "Don't forget. Shrooms tonight in Teenage Wasteland. Then Body Snatchers until we can't function."
I waved my hand as we walked away. M, she had her arm draped over my shoulder and I could still feel her shake. I picked up my skateboard and took her to the garden hose in front of Bobby's house.

"What was that all about?" I asked her as I rinsed her hand off in the warm water.
She looked at me like I should have known the answer. I felt kind of stupid because, really, I didn't know.
The new kid limped by us on his way home. "Fucking cunt!" he yelled.
Me and M jumped to our feet and he took off in a run. We both laughed.
"B...I, uh." She looked down at her bleeding hand. "Look, he was twice your size." She looked up at me, her face was soft and sad. "He hurt you. And you know how I get when you get hurt."

I should have realized, in that moment. The way she looked at me. The way she spoke to me. The way she touched me. The way she protected me. But I didn't. I was 12 going on 13 for Christs sakes. She was 14 going on 15. How the hell was I supposed to understand? I just didn't know.

"Yeah," I smiled. "I know how you get when I get hurt." I looked down at her hand. "Thank God I wasn't bleeding. You might have snapped and really killed him."
"I think," she reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, "I did snap. But you...you brought me back. Always you." She looked up at me and laughed. "You make me crazy."
I laughed with her. "I think I keep you sane."
"That too."

Saturday, March 21, 2009


I woke up to the sound of a loud, and I mean loud, bang at about three in the morning. Me and J had the house to ourselves and if anyone was coming home or over, they would have showed up before midnight. I nudged J as I reached for my gun and asked her if she heard it. She mumbled something I didn't understand so I loaded the chamber and had my thumb at the ready, over the safety. I maneuvered through the room in the dark, trying not to knock over anything and quietly unlocked our bedroom door. I opened it just enough but didn't see anything or anyone. I pulled the rest of the way open and the bathroom door swung open. I pulled my gun up and aimed...Jules threw her hands in the air and yelled, "Whoa!"

I started laughing. I guess it was my nerves. Shit...we live in the middle of the woods for Christ sakes. People around here leave their keys in their cars and sleep with the doors and windows open. You don't do that where I come from. Jules, who is Rock's girlfriend by the way, started laughing with me. Her yell brought Rock out of his room.

"She almost shot me," she said, still laughing.
Rock looked stoned out of his mind and just laughed with us.
"Well, you scared the shit out of me. And if you were an intruder, you wouldn't be walking out of here. That's for sure." I ejected the clip of my gun, emptied the bullet from the chamber, and took a deep breath. I don't want to ever have to use my gun to kill someone but if it comes down to me or J's life, I sure as hell will.

I crawled back in bed. Adrenaline was still pumping through me. J rolled over and placed her hand in the center of my chest and draped her leg over me. "Thanks," she whispered, "for protecting me."

When I woke up with a desperate need to quench my ache for another adrenaline rush later in the morning, I grabbed the key for the four wheeler. What can I say? I don't do drugs...who needs them when life and living is the best drug I've ever encountered. I talked J into riding with me so I could show her the new paths I had made up the side of the mountain and the one down by the creek. As butch as she is, she held on to me for dear life. I promise, I was taking it easy, but when I showed her the incline we were going up, I thought she was going to jump off. Anyway...I showed her the paths and then told her to take a solo run through it. It was funny, she is so damn careful and slow.
Finally, she came back and hopped off. She sat on the porch and watched me take my turn. When I can back, she looked white.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"Please be more careful," she begged. "At least until we get some helmets. You were on two wheels and you caught air coming up the driveway."
I wanted to tell her that that was nothing. That if I had full gear on, I probably would have took the machine to its extreme. But the look on her face made me turn to mush. I promised I'd be more careful and proceeded to crawl around the paths at turtle speed. Until I saw her walk in the house and then it was all out. I was having a blast. I flew down the driveway at full speed. The air was cold and my fingers and face were going numb but fuck it, right. I splashed through the creek, shot out to the driveway then slid sideways into the woods. When I emerged from woods, J was standing on the porch with the camera and a look on her face like it was the end of my riding for the day. She shook her head and I winked. I rode the path one more time and parked the four wheeler. I definitely fulfilled my need for adrenaline.

Now, if J ever lets me ride it again...that's another story.

Our pal, Shannon, should be here any minute. We are heading out to astronomy night at Unicoi State Park. It starts at 8. Come one, come all.

Friday, March 20, 2009


I just got off the phone with my mom. So when she asked what I had been up to, I told her I'd been drawing again. So she asked me to send them to her.

me: Even the one of the girl that's in the bikini?
mom: Yeah, of course.
me: Okay.

I sent her the pictures I posted in here. All of them. She was at work, so she printed them out. As her friends passed her desk, they stopped and commented on my work...which my mom is now plastering to the walls of her office. She says she wanted to make me a gallery. Hmmm...

She asked me what my process was when I draw. Long story short...I just have to have a picture and, well...its that easy for me. Some area's are tougher than others (hands) but usually I can make my drawing look pretty close to what I see. Although, sometimes its a challenge with color photo's.

mom: So you can draw anything from a picture?
me: Yeah, pretty much.
mom: Will you draw something for me?
me: Uh, sure. Who or what would you like?
mom: Jesus.
me: Jesus? (Not what I was expecting from her, so I was in a bit of shock.)
mom: Jesus. What? You don't draw Jesus?
me: Uh, no. Not that. I just figured you would say something like Brad Pitt.
mom: Nope. Jesus. And Bob Seger...back when he was young with his long brown hair and thick mustache.

I see the pattern here.

Last year sometime, I took her to see Jesus Christ Superstar at the Broward Center for Performing Arts. It was a great show. She loves Ted Neeley, so I think I will find a pic of him as Jesus.

I better find my muse fast.


Those last few days of the summer with her were great. We managed to escape the Chris shadow and spent time at the new strip mall they were building up near State Road 84. I remember that we were excited that we were finally getting a McDonald's in our damn neighborhood that seemed to be way behind the times of the world.
It was getting close to dark time. We all had to check in when the street lights came on and after that, we were only allowed to stay outside if we stayed in the circle. I chased after her, through the skeleton looking buildings. Steel, aluminum, and wood frames that would soon be stores that we would probably never go in. She hid around the corner and ducked down. As soon as I passed she jumped up and grabbed me from behind. I remember, I balled up my fist and prepared to swing but her laughter quickly calmed me.
"You scared the shit out of me," I huffed.
She laughed again, this time it echoed through the empty skeleton frames. "That was the point."
I turned around trying to free myself from her hold but she wouldn't let go. Instead she stared into my eyes like she wanted to tell me something so badly but couldn't. I stared back, trying to tell her with my eyes that she could tell me what it was. Anything, it didn't matter.
When her arms around me tightened and pulled me closer and she rested her head on my shoulder, I thought she was going to cry. And that thought made me feel awful. Like something inside of me was crumbling. Like someone had punched me in the gut. I hugged her back, even though I didn't understand.

I'm not sure how long we stood there like that. We swayed to a tune that was playing in our heads and the skin between us heated up. I felt her heart beating against my chest, hard and fast, like she was afraid. I didn't want her to be afraid of anything. In my eyes, she was just as strong as I was. Fearless to the extent of not caring. Hell, we were kids after all. Indestructible. Bones healed, wounds faded to scars. And the scars, well they were something cool to talk about.

She finally broke our spell. I was feeling more than confused. She took my hand, pulling me behind her until we reached the free standing building that would soon be McDonald's.

"Come on," she said as she grabbed the permanent ladder on the side of the building.

I followed her up and within a few seconds, we were on the roof. Lights from the traffic flew by, its sound buzzed up to our ears. We sat on the edge with our feet hanging over and she grabbed my hand again.

"I think this has been the best summer ever." She raked her hand through her jet black hair and let out a sigh that made me melt.

"Yeah, " I agreed. "You gonna play mud football with us tomorrow?"

"You know it. Its my favorite sport," she joked.

I looked down at my dangling feet and contemplated jumping. It didn't look that far and I imagined the adrenaline rush would be unreal. But then she squeezed my hand and brought me back to us. I glanced over at her and studied her profile. I always thought of her as cool. A hard edged, take no shit kind of girl. Nobody fucked with her. And by association, or at least I thought, no one fucked with me either. But in the twilight of the fading sun, she looked...delicate, like she was so fragile that if I touched her she would break.

I shook my head. Not her. Never could she be delicate or fragile. The way I felt for her was so confusing. I knew I loved her in a best friend sort of way but there was more. More than I had ever felt before. The shaking, nausea, the sweat on my brow even in the cool night breeze...things I couldn't explain...were beyond my understanding.

It was all too much to think about. I laid back and folded my arms under my head. The stars were starting to show. And all I could do was smile when she put her head down on my folded arm, her hand reaching for the necklace I always wore. She inspected my St. Christopher carefully.

"Do you ever take this off?" she asked, propping up on her elbow.
I looked for her eyes. "Nope."
"Hmm. Where did you get it?"
"My dad gave it to me. My first birthday after he left. He gave me the chain, the two charms, and this," I said and held my hand out for her inspection. I wore a crucifix ring on my left hand. "The charm is just like his."
"Is your dad cool?"
I shrugged. "Not really. I mean he used to be, when I was real little. Mom said it was a guilt present. He felt guilty for almost putting my head through the wall last year."
She sat straight up and gasped. "What happened? Why would he do that?"
It hurt to explain. It hurt to tell the truth, but I knew I could trust her and I knew she wouldn't tell another soul. There was more than one reason why my dad no longer lived with us.
"God, B. I'm so sorry." She laid back down and this time, her hand was in the center of my chest. "Your dad sounds as bad as my dad."

As much as I tried, she still wouldn't talk about it.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

My Art Work

I think this will be the last of my art work that I will post here for a while. I seemed to have lost my muse.
This drawing is of Otep Shamaya. She is the lead singer for Otep, an artist, a poet, a mind bender like no other.
I saw them first, at Ozzfest 2001 in West Palm and finally met her last year at The Culture Room.
She's an amazing performer...a must see.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Just a scratch

I could tell there was something bothering her. There was a sadness that consumed her eyes. She began to get distant. At first, I thought that it was because our summer was coming to an end.

I was down at the end of the circle. I always seemed to wake up before everyone else and I took the alone time to shred the quarter pipe we had built at the beginning of the summer. Just me and my Caballero. Wood and wheels. Bearings and trucks. My well ridden skateboard. The tail almost nonexistent. The plastic rails had perfect grooves. No traffic on the streets and the only sounds were of my board vibrating along the pavement.

I was in my zone. I went through the tricks I had mastered. The stalls, the fakies, the hand plants and such. The wood was wet and slippery and as I went up to grind, my wheels lost traction. The board went one way and I went down to my knees, sliding to the bottom of the wood. The wood tore the knees out of my jeans and when I got to the bottom of the ramp, the asphalt took my skin.

I had no idea she was watching. Before I knew it, she had me in her arms.

"God, I hate how you are so fearless. It scares the shit out of me." She helped me up then grabbed my board. She made me sit on the curb so she could inspect my injuries.

"Hey, its nothing. I've had worse," I explained. It was the truth.

Her eyes looked more pained than they had in days. I was torn between wanting to hold her and wanting to push her away from tending to me. I didn't want her to think I was weak.

"Believe me, I know you've had worse. Why are you such a damn tomboy?"

I laughed. "Because being such a damn girl is too much work and not enough fun."

That finally got a smile out of her. The smile I lived for. I had no idea how much she meant to me. And when she looked in my eyes, I saw that pain lift just a little.

"You are crazy." She looked away and lowered her head.

I put my hand on her back. "Really, I'm okay. Its just a few scratches that will heal in a few days. How about you tell me whats really bugging you?"

I knew I hit on something because she brought her knees to her chest and tilted her head towards me. Her head resting on her knees and those knees pulled to her so tightly to her that I wasn't sure if she could breathe. She was always as tough as I was, so when I saw the tears threatening her eyes, a panic washed over me. She must have saw that in my eyes.

"Hey, its just a few scratches. Everything will be okay." I heard her words, but I didn't feel them.

All at once, I was angry. Something or someone had hurt her and all I could think of was beating the hell out of whatever it was. I clinched my fists and felt my face heat up. I begged her to tell me. She knew she could tell me anything but she wouldn't budge on it. "If its Chris, I swear I will kill him."

"Its not Chris. Besides, I think I would kill him first." She looked around us like she was searching for someone watching us. "I'm surprised he wasn't watching you too. He's always right behind you. It drives me nuts."

I flipped my board up on its side and spun the wheel. "It drives me nuts too."
She reached out and spun another wheel. "Have you seen the drawings he's done of you?"
"I saw one. It was me skating. Its kind of creepy, the way he follows me and draws me all the time."
Her laugh sounded evil. "It is but...I think he's in love with you."
Love? Good God! I was thinking that I was way too young for love. "Now, that is crazy."
"He's not the only one." She jumped to her feet and then pulled me up with her. "I've never been on one of these things. Can you teach me?"

I was still stuck on her 'He's not the only one' comment. I wanted to ask but she flipped my board and reached for my hand. She laughed and begged me not to let her fall. It felt so good to feel her laughter that all my thoughts disappeared and it was only us and my board. I ran beside her, still holding her hand, as she skated down the street. Things were better, she seemed so happy, and my world was bright and sunny again.

I just wish I would have known then how long it would last.

More excitement!

Today...me and J went down to Pueblo's. Its a little Mexican place with great food and a cool atmosphere. We ate a perfect meal and were walking back to the car when I saw something that just didn't look right. I stopped J and made her look too.

"Holy shit!" she said as we both stood and stared.

In the parking lot, behind our truck, there was a minivan on fire. Flames were shooting from the hood and dancing across the windshield. Smoke was clogging the streets around us. We stayed back and watched while we waited, and waited, and waited for the fire trucks to show up. One of the guys that worked at Pueblo's walked by and said, "I can't believe the fire trucks aren't here yet. The station is behind that building."
He pointed to the building that was behind the lot where we were parked.

The cop was there though. Umm...in South Florida, the police carry fire extinguishers in their cars. I guess that cops up here don't. Because if he did have one, he could have put it out before it got so bad.

So...after about fifteen minutes, the fire department showed up. By this time, the entire front of the vehicle was completely engulfed. It was like watching a bloopers show. The fireman pulled the hoses from the truck and made a tangled mess. When they finally got to the front of the van, he turned on the hose and nothing happened. He followed the hose back and found that one of the connections was leaking. Now there is two more fire trucks and all of them were standing around watching these guys struggle with the hose. Finally, after the windshield melted and the interior began to catch fire, the guys started spraying it with the water. All the owner of the vehicle could do was stand there and watch. I felt bad for the guy.

When the flames were finally out, I walked up to the cop and asked if I could back our truck out of the lot. I figured that the further away our truck was from the firefighters, the better. He agreed to let me.
On the way home, J starts laughing. "I can't believe those people were driving by that. The flames were shooting out across the street."
"I still can't figure out why the cop didn't redirect traffic," I shrugged. At one point, a propane truck drove by it. The burning van was less than three feet from the passing traffic. "I can't believe it took so long for the fire trucks."
J laughed again. "I know. The fire department is really only fifty feet away from where the fire was."
A few months ago, I told J that I wanted to be a firefighter. Even if it was just volunteer. "See, I told you that I should join the fire department. I would have been there and had that out even if I had to jog to it. Hey, can you hand me my smokes?" I pointed to where they were.
"Uh, you wanna smoke after seeing that?"

A few minutes later, we were home. J's dad is home and J starts explaining the excitement. Then they both started looking at me like I had clown makeup on or something.
"What?" I asked.
Mick smiles and J starts shaking her head. "I'm staying away from you. The other night, you called me to tell me the woods were on fire and now, I take you to dinner and a van is on fire. Ten feet from our truck."
I put my hands in the air and swore it had nothing to do with me. But maybe...just maybe, its a sign that I should be a firefighter.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

For the CLC...Joan Jett!

It was the early 80's. I was just about to turn 8 years old. There was a new channel called MTV debuting and I must have stared at that little moon man for days waiting for the first video. I remember seeing "Video Killed the Radio Star" but then I zonked out.

The second video I ever saw was Joan Jett and the Blackhearts singing, "I Love Rock N' Roll" and I was hooked. In that instant, I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up, or make that who. Joan Jett. The queen of rock. The goddess of the guitar. And she was tough. And hot. All black leather and you knew she didn't take anybodies shit.

I begged my mom to let me dye my hair. My white/blond just wasn't doing the trick. Of course she refused but she did let me get my hair cut like hers. My 8th birthday rolled around and my Uncle Tom bought me two cassette tapes. Joan Jett and John Cougar. (I still have them both.) And my big surprise was concert tickets to see Joan live at the Sunrise Musical theatre.

Mom and Dad took me to the show. I had my dad put me on his shoulders and I told him, "Dad, when she comes out...whistle real loud."

He was laughing so hard that his whistle sounded like...well, a half assed wind storm. But it didn't matter. I was there, right in front of Joan (a few rows back), and I sang every word to every song. I'll never forget how shocked I was that she didn't walk out in her black leather. Instead, she wore pink lace and pink Converse.

Since then, I've seen Joan in concert almost every single time she rolled through South Florida. I even saw her at Atlanta's Music Midtown a few years back. I've got set lists and millions of pictures...but I have yet to actually meet her. I blew my chance when she played at Gulfstream Park. (Long story.) I would love to claim that I'm her biggest fan, but my pal Starr might have me beat on that one.

Anyway...this is Joan Jett. She is the reason I picked up the guitar. She's the reason why millions of other girls picked up the guitar, I'm sure. I drew her with .555 drawing pencil that I stole from Rock. There was so much light and not a lot of shadow, but it I think it was her eyes that pulled me in.

(Starr...Here's the Joan you asked for. I'll give ya the drawing if you come up to visit and go to the show with us!)


I remember, she stood there...her long, straight black hair reflecting the sun and her eyes squinting as she stepped off her front porch. We all loved summer time. And just as the sun set, we began to play. I think it was Ghost in the Graveyard.
She followed me to my hiding spot. The best hiding spot in the neighborhood. The one behind the paper tree, between the fence and the bushes. At first, I didn't know who it was. I was about to take off in a run when she whispered my name.
"Is it you?" she asked in that whisper.
"Yeah. You're not a ghost are you?" I knew she would tell me if she was.

Ghost in the Graveyard was similar to Body Snatchers except, with Ghost in the Graveyard there was a base. If you made it to base without being tagged, you were safe. But if you got tagged, you became a ghost. You never knew who the ghosts were.

She crawled to the middle where I was sitting with my back against the fence. It would only be a few more minutes until our hiding place would be pitch black. The chances of us being found were slim to none. We both knew it.

I liked being so close to her. Even though there was this feeling in my stomach something close to nausea. Like the butterflies were going crazy and their tickles made me dizzy from the inside out. With her that close, I always started to shake. It would be a long while before I understood just why. And like she knew, she would grab my hand. Sometimes I swore she was shaking just as bad.

"Shh," she signaled.

I heard it. The unmistakable sounds of footsteps. I was sure if we stayed still and quiet, no one would know we were there. She gripped my hand tighter and we held our breath as the legs stopped at the end of our tunnel. I should have known Chris would find us. It was like he was my shadow. If she hadn't of climbed in my tunnel first, I'm sure he would have followed me in.

"Go! Go! Go!" she rasped out.

I took off to the opposite end of the tunnel. The tall grass ahead of me was scary at night--snakes and such--but I couldn't show her I had any fear. Straight ahead and as fast I could, I exited. She was right on my heels.

"We got to get to base!" I screamed. Chris wasn't alone. And if Brad was a Ghost, he would catch us for sure.

I held her hand and half dragged her to base. We were laughing so hard, I was surprised we made it. Then it was us that stood on her front porch. The promising light of the full moon coming up behind us. Her hand on my shoulder as we struggled to catch our breath.

"I like your hiding spot," she whispered in my ear.

Monday, March 16, 2009

More art

This is from my night of insomnia also. Another pencil drawing, this one of Vanessa. I'm always searching for someone to draw and as I was messing around on Myspace, I came across her. She's a model. A very artistic one.
The reason I picked this particular photo to draw was because of her hand. I know that sounds strange, but hands have always been a challenge for me to draw. In this drawing, her hand is up front and, aside from her eyes, the center of the drawing. I love a challenge and I think I did this one justice.
Her site might be 18 and older. She can also be found on Myspace.

Did she know?

If you asked me if I could remember her, I'd tell you yes. I remember everything. The curve of her lips when she smiled. The deep blue of her eyes. I can remember the pattern of freckles that scattered across her nose. But did she know?

Everyone else seemed to. Even Chris, the older guy that tried to lure me away from her. They'd sit and watch. Watch me as I'd skate up the quarter pipe and pull off some hand plant or such. She would smile when I looked at her and he would shake his head.

What did he want with me anyway? I made it obvious that I wasn't interested and he still followed me. Like a lost puppy or the cat you feed once and they never leave. Everywhere I went, he was there. Taking pictures or sketching in his book. Maybe I shouldn't have been so nice. Maybe...

She would save me a seat in the back of the bus. She was older too. Not by much and by seventh grade, I'd caught up to her. They said she was waiting for me. Did she know?

We spent the summer nights hanging out in the pastures. Teenage Wasteland they called it but it was really our world away from the world. We were playing, Body Snatchers I think, and we were running. Me and her, hand in hand. Somehow we ended up on top of the old horse stalls. Rotted wood that would creak with each step. We were out of breath and laughing, her hand still in mine as she dragged me across that shaky wood.

And when the wood gave way and we fell through to the thick, tall grass below, she caught me and held me as we both took a second to realize what had happen.

Time stood still for just a moment. Her eyes were looking into mine, into my soul. Did she know? I think my heart stopped and I couldn't remember how to breathe. Her hand, so soft, so gentle, grazed my cheek and she smiled. Knee's went weak and the world started to spin. I was shaking, the smile in her eyes turned to concern.

"Are you cold?" she asked, the words were like warm hands to protect me. I couldn't speak so I shook my head. The movement brought the smile to her lips again but the sound of approaching footsteps wiped it away as quickly as it appeared...and we were running again. It was Body Snatchers after all.

Did she know? Everyone else seemed to know. But...not me.

Sunday, March 15, 2009


Sleep evaded me for the millionth time. But, insomnia has its upside. I couldn't find my charcoal pencils, so I had to use a regular pencil. Not my favorite for many reasons. One being that pencils shade for shit.

Anyhow, this is Janine. I can't remember her last name but I did meet her many years ago when she was doing her Blondage tour. (Don't ask) I think there is still a blackmail photo of the three of us (The Blondage girls and myself...I was really drunk) floating around somewhere.