Shleepiness

I want to sleep perchance to dream in France.

My eyes r tired. I r tired. Mostly of school. Head aches. Brain not functioning properly. Damg it. I don't want to cuss, except that I do. Compromise is key. That and rambling nonsensically. Real word? Maybe . . . End of school year = end of caring. Need a vacation. 2 weeks away!!! And finals. Oh God . . . Ital 3, Fiction Writing - I have to get in frnot of the class and read 2 or 3 of my favorite short-shorts, and Basic Painting - painting a stool with paint covering it. Shoot me now per favore. French? Italian? Spanish? Sprenchtalian? Don't talk 2 me.

Lyrics

Here is my newest short short.

Lyrics


It had been two hours since they left. Alisa was in the backseat listening to her iPod. Neither of her parents had spoken the whole time. Of course, that wasn't unusual. Alisa could see the space between them like a giant bubble neither one wanted to pop. So the car slowly dragged on in silence. Alisa turned the dial on her iPod and played

"Tainted Love" by Soft Cell.

When they finally arrived in Santa Cruz, Alisa was relieved to get out and stretch. The group slowly marched up to the faded entrance to the Boardwalk. A young man with long, golden hair and a nice tan walked towards the parking lot. Alisa noticed him, and though he was far older than her, she held his gaze. He seemed to understand and gave a soft glance back. After he passed by Alisa turned the dial again to the song

"Beautiful Stranger" by Madonna.

The group slowly marched out toward the beach. Her mother was crying now, though she tried not to. Alisa saw, but couldn't fully appreciate it. It was too rare a site to see. She just turned the dial again and played

"Cryin'" by Aerosmith.

Alisa started to look around. It was a sunny day and all the people on the amusement rides were smiling and laughing. Alisa wanted to ride the Big Dipper and then maybe ride in a bumper car. Or go down the Log Ride. Everyone seemed to be wearing bright colors. There was a man in a blue and yellow tie dye standing in line next to a man in orange capri pants. Alisa thought it was interesting that among all these various colors her family stood out the most. Alisa was wearing a pair of black slacks with black heeled shoes. Her mother wore a simple black dress she had also worn out for her anniversary two months earlier. Her dad wore a black suite and shiny black shoes. As a few wandering tourists looked at them, Alisa again turned her dial and played

"Sick Cycle Carousel" by Lifehouse.

Finally they reached the stairs to the beach and made their way down. When her feet reached the sand, Alisa wanted to take off her shoes and run to the water. Instead she struggled to walk in her heels and pushed her way through the sand to the shore. Her mother had stopped crying now and was walking somberly through the sand like a zombie. Alisa's dad tried to steady her, but it was just a gesture and meant nothing. Finally they reached the edge of the waves. Alisa breathed in the salty air and played one last song before she took out the headphones from her ears.

"Atlantic" by Keane.

She felt dirty from the sand and the mist, but she stood silent waiting for her parents. Then her mom held up the urn. It was blue with intricate white floral designs around it. Inside the urn was what was left of the grandmother Alisa never knew. She had heard stories that implied her grandmother had been slightly insane or some kind of drug addict. It was clear she had hurt Alisa's mom in some way that was beyond repair. They hadn't spoken in years. Then out of the blue, Alisa's mom got a letter saying her mom had passed away and that her last request was that Alisa's mom spread her ashes across Santa Cruz beach. Alisa didn't know why her mom had chosen to do so. Or why she insisted Alisa and her father come along. All Alisa knew was that in this moment she felt loss. Not the loss of her grandmother, but the loss of her own mother. Her mom was like a distant wave she could never reach. Alisa was stranded on a shore and could only look out to sea as she made her way along the current. Alisa turned to face her mom who had opened the urn. Soft powder flowed from it into the air and mixed into the water and foam. Then shutting out her thoughts, Alisa closed her eyes, and listened to the song

"Loss at the Ocean" by God.

Boridium Chloride

Gosh I'm bored. It's the Friday of a 3 day weekend and I have nothing to do. BBBBOOORRRIIINNNGGG. I should write in my Storybook #6. Or find a prompt and write something random here.

Prompt: March 23rd. Today is "Penny Day." Many people believe that if you find a penny face up, it might be lucky and you should pick it up. They also believe if you find a penny face down, you should leave it on the ground. What are your thoughts? Do you think there is such a thing as a "lucky penny?"

What are my thoughts about pennies? I know my thoughts are worth pennies. Ummmm . . . I know pennies will be discontinued soon because as I suggested to people years ago pennies are a waste of time and purse space. Sursly. I mean 100 pennies = 1 dollar. ONE DOLLAR! What can you get for a dollar these days? Answer: nada mucho. Anyways, I'm glad pennies will be gone. My sister Emily, on the other hand, thinks pennies are amazing and collects them every five seconds. She has dozens of jars full of them in her room and on her floor. I told her she should take them to Coinstar while they're still worth something, but she says she's collecting them and that they will be valuable one day. Yah. This is the person I'm related to.
As far as the luckyness of pennies is concerned, it's hard for me to say. Em believes hands down that they are lucky. She keeps a penny in her shoe everyday. And, although it may not be penny-related, I must admit ever since birth Em has been a lucky little monkey. I don't know why. I know for me personally, pennies don't help. In fact I've had days where picking up a penny and carrying it around has only made things worse. I don't blame the penny for the bad luck, but I do blame it for raising my hopes and expectations and then dragging them down through the mud when the day turns out to be crap.
I should also note that wishing weeds that you make a wish and blow on, four- leaf clovers, and salt over the shoulder fail at life as well.

Who Writes Short Shorts? 2

So this is my second "short-short" I had written for my Fiction Writing Class. It is called "Practice". the other two stories are on myspace and facebook.

The Driving Instructor introduced himself James Bond Style. “I’m Stone. Jeff Stone,” he said to the nervous 16 year old boy in the driver’s seat. He told the boy not to worry and that everything would go fine. He then said to turn the car on and put it in reverse. He boy fumbled with the keys, turned on the car, then struggled to put it in reverse. “Do you like video games,” Stone asked. The boy looked at him kind of confused while trying to wrestle with the wheel, then answered, “I guess.” “Grand Theft Auto is my favorite. I like driving away from the cops after I’ve totally mowed down about 20 people. I once had 4 stars and managed to escape. I also like playing Halo a lot. Halo 1 was classic, but Halo 2 is my favorite. Have you ever played?” asked Stone. The boy looked over at him and said, “Yah. It’s one of my favorites too.” “My weapon of choice is a shotgun, how about you?” asked Stone. “I like the Needler,” said the boy smiling. “Well I don’t know how good you are at driving the warthog in Halo, but let’s see if we can’t get this car onto the road,” said Stone.
The boy drove alright. He seemed more relaxed as Stone and he continued to talk about video games. Stone was doing this as a side job to pay his way through school. He remembered how nervous he was the first time he drove a car and how silent and cold the instructor had been. It was Stone’s policy that the driver should feel as relaxed and comfortable as possible so that driving could come more easily. You’re more likely to crash into a car coming into your lane if your nervous than if you act casually and see it coming ahead of time.
As they drove on, Stone used another tactic to make the boy more aware of the pedestrians and people around him. “Oh Look,” he said, “There’s an old lady about to cross the street. 45 points!” The boy knew this game and he gave a slight laugh and said, “Guy on a bike up ahead. 150 points.” Now he was really getting in it. “How about that kid on the skateboard?” the boy asked. “Mmm . . . I’d say about 234 points. He is a fast moving target and he can swerve out of the way,” said Stone. Then Stone gave the same complimentary advice he always gave his student drivers. “If you ever run someone over, start a spree. Just start running people over right and left. You might as well since you’re probably going to jail forever anyway. Just mow down all the people within range of your vehicle. Just don’t tell the cops I told you that.”
Finally after two hours the boys turn was up. Since he was the last student of the day he had the boy drive himself all the way back to his house. “So how was it?” Stone asked as the boy parked the car in his driveway, hitting the curb only for a moment. “It was a lot better than I thought it would be,” the boy said smiling. “well I’ll see you again in 3 weeks and maybe if you’re really good I’ll let you do spins and donuts in an empty parking lot. “Cool!” said the boy as he walked towards the back of the car. Stone felt good sitting in the front seat. He had managed to help another driver feel more comfortable behind the wheel. Stone quickly threw the car in reverse and backed up, but stopped suddenly when he hit something and heard a thud. “What the . . .” was all he could say as he quickly turned the engine off and ran around to the back of his car. There was the boy lying face up on the pavement. He was fine, but the car had knocked him down hard. As the boy looked up at Stone he suddenly moved his lips and asked in a faint voice, “How much was that worth?” Stone looked down, disappointed in himself, and answered, “Negative 756.”

Posts??? or Blogs???

Are these posts or blogs? Or postblogs? Screw it, I'm mkaing a hybrid. Time for something clever : Promptage!!!

What would have happened if you didn't leave the house this morning?

Well, I would be very dissapointed considering I woke up at 2 A.M. and couldn't go back to sleep. Then around 6:30 A.M. I started to fall back asleep but got up because I knew I had school. So if I never left the house I would have gotten up for nothing which would have made me angry. Then I'd just end up staying at home playing on the computer, watching T.V., and listening to music. A Perfectly Wasted day. Instead, I went to school and presented my artwork along with the other 15 kids in the class. I love my painting! I started out sucking in Basic Painting class, but I just finished this awesome landscape of a lighthouse on rolling greenhills overlooking the sea and a blue sky with clouds. It was magical. Then after we critiqued each others artwork we went to the Triton museum and saw professional artist's work. How do they get there stuff sooooo detailed? Leprechauns . . . that's what it is. They come in the night and do there work for them. Like Dobby on Harry Potter. I need one of those. Anyways, then I went to Italian 3 class. It was same old same old routine and boring. However I did learn key information such as : There's a test next Wednesday. Very important to know. Then I came hom, extremely hungry because I went from 8 A.M. to 3 P.M. with no lunch. Ouch. I'm good now though. Thank you Chef Boyardee. U are truely magnificent. Raviolios!!!!!!