& that's the way life goes

Think of a slinky. Write four textures that come to mind:

1. metal
2. smooth
3. rounded
4. coil

Think of a scarf. Write four textures that come to mind:

1. soft
2. silky
3. flexible
4. cotton

Yeah not sure how I did on those texture words…but moving on…

Late night city streets were the perfect backdrop for…

wearing that soft swede mini skirt she had sinfully bought last week. This was her night, the night she would let herself go and be free from all the worries she kept inside of her. She splurged and had her silky hair swept up away from her face at the swanky salon down the street from her Manhattan office. Drinks with the girls. The email that she received had lifted her spirit immensely. She needed this, so much that she had left her ridged work early so she could make her hair appointment. Walking back to her apartment, her head held high because of the feeling she got when her hair looked perfect.

In her apartment she slid into her mini skirt and pulled a red cotton shirt carefully over her head. It had enough lycra in it to fit snuggly up against her curves. With an approving glance in the mirror she padded over to her closet for her shoes she lovingly referred to as ‘hooker boots’. She pulled them on quickly and strutted in front of the mirror a couple times. Smirking with satisfaction she went into the bathroom to apply her makeup. She smoothed on some foundation to even out her skin tone, curled her lashes, applied liberal amounts of eyeshadow and mascara and finished off with shimmering lip gloss. She smiled at her reflection and checked the time on the watch that sat on the counter. Hurrying now, she grabbed a couple metal bangles off the shelf and rounded the corner to find her purse.

She rushed down the steps to find one of her friends waiting at the bottom, impatiently coiling a curl around her finger. Luckily her friend was pretty flexible and didn’t get bent out of shape waiting for her. Together they set out into the streets to meet with the others for a night to remember.

His taste in women was…

exotic to say the least. His friends gave him grief because he couldn’t be narrowed down to a type. Not just blondes, burnettes or redheads. Tall, short, supermodel thin, athletic, big boned…he enjoyed them all.  His most recent catch was an athletic Italian girl.  He had met her in a bar one night last week.  After talking over some french fries, which she doused with ketchup he decided to ask her out on a date.  She found him irresistible because he asked her to dinner as he wiped a small smudge of ketchup from her lip.  She had giggled and accepted.  Being daring he asked her to the Tigers baseball game.  he wasn’t much of a fan but he had got the tickets from a client and thought this would be a perfect way to use them.

He met her at the stadium.  They walked around the park ohhing and ahhing over the architecture.  Talking over everything and pretty much ignoring the game.  They passed by at least a dozen hot dog stands and finally decided to stop and have one.  He paid and the walked over to the condiment cart.  She piled on ketchup, mustard, relish, squeezed on a packet of mayonnaise, grabbed a couple hot peppers and asked the food attendant if they had any spare pickles.  He was appalled at everything on her hot dog.  She took a bite and after swallowing commented that all it needed was soy sauce.

Yeah not my best haha

Life takes some funny twists and turns…

Makenzie had just gotten home for a tedious day at working, dealing with idiotic people. Answering the phones and politely telling people they either need to reboot or be transfered to the technical department. This wasn’t where her life was supposed to be. She had a degree, she suffered through five years of college to achieve.

She set her black messenger bag on the kitchen chair and gave her calico cat a stroke on the back. Mindlessly, she wandered to the fridge and pulled out a Michelob Ultra and popped the top. Not bothering to throw the cap out she set it on the counter and continued to walk through her updated condo. She stared out the front window, watching the leaves blow. Her cat rubbed against her legs and followed her to the front door. She unlocked it and reached into her small mailbox. There was a white envelope sticking out, because it was too big to fit in all the way. Makenzie extracted it and looked down at it curiously. Noting the return address from Peerless, she turned it over. Printed on the envelope, in bright red letters are the words “You May Have Already Won”.

She walked back into her condo and set the rest of the mail on her kitchen counter. She took the white envelope to the couch and sat down. Laying the envelope on the end table she switched on the news. Unable to fight the temptation any more she picked up the envelope and tore it open. This lousy day should have a happy ending, she thought to herself. She pulled out a packet of information that was addressed to her. She read the cover letter three times before she expeled a breath and her heart pounded in her chest. Makenzie never dreamed that this moment would actually come, that she could actually win a contest. Much less a contest she had entered 6 months ago. It had completely slipped her mind. Scaring the cat, she jumped up from the couch and frantically emptied her purse looking for her phone. Finding it she hit the speed dial and listened impatiently to the ringing.

After about six a female voice picked up the other end, “hello?”

“did you get your mail today?” Makenzie screeched into the phone.

“Not yet I just walked in the door, what’s going on Kenz?”

Makenzie could picture her best friend Madalyn walking through her house, oblivious to what the mailbox held. “Just go get your mail and call me back.” She disconnected the line and had faith that Madalyn would do as she asked without calling her back. They had known each other long enough that she wouldn’t ask her do something out of the blue unless it was important.

Not even five minutes later, Makenzie’s cell phone rang. She took her thumb out her mouth and was glad she didn’t have to continue to bite her nails waiting.

“Are you kidding me? When did you enter us in this?” Madalyn screamed into the phone.

“Like six months ago!” Makenzie screeched again and cleared her throat. “I can’t believe we won the writing contest, the letter said over 2,000 people entered!”

“I can’t either! And we get a book deal!” Madalyn couldn’t catch her breath. “Is this really legit?”

“Yes! I researched this company before I even submitted our manuscript.” Makenzie plopped down on her couch exhausted from the excitement and continued to talk to Madalyn about what this would mean for them.

The post card arrived…

I had banished him, if not in the real world at least from my immediate surroundings.  I didn’t think he’d have the nerve to show up again.  But he did, today, in the form of a post card.  It was sent from the hell I banished him to. His hell where woman were strong, powerful (much like some are today) and held high ranking positions.  He was a lonely slave boy, punished for his view of women.  Picturing them in aprons and being subservient, no matter who they were.

His postcard was a drawing.  He had sketched himself in a blue polo with the company logo emblazened on the front.  He was sitting at a meeting table, directing those below him.  From the look in his stare I could see he was the leader, in charge.  He had learned nothing from the hell I sent him to.  No matter how many years have passed, or how many events and facts came and  went, Chauvinistic Pig will always have a place (even if small) in companies around the world.

Day 1 writing exercise.  It gives 3 categories of 5 words.  You have to pick one word in each category.  I’ll italicize the words I chose.

Sometimes I feel just like a gerbil, running around and around on his wheel!…

I walk down the street and all I can smell is the diesel.  Not just any diesel, the smell of diesel mixed with sweat from a working male.  And it’s not just any male, they say I shouldn’t love him, that he’s not going any where, but I do.  He works in the auto repair garage down the street.  I used to walk by after school and sit on the bench across the street and pretend to read.  But no book could hold my attention.  This went on for weeks, I always wondered if he noticed me over there.  Once I thought I saw him glance my way.  The weather started getting colder and the shop started to close it’s bay doors.  I was sad and as the leaves  changed colors and fell to the ground I knew I’d have to give up my post.

It was chilly this one day, you could smell winter moving in and the crisp air bit at my cheeks.  I walked past my bench and continued on my way, hunched inside my coat.  I smelled the diesel before he touched my shoulder.  I turned and smiled at the guy who was standing behind me.   He handed me a piece of paper, smiled and walked back to the garage.  He turned slightly once to give me a grin.  I looked down at the paper in my hand, smudged with grease.  My hand shook as I unfolded it.  On it was a telephone number and two words, “call me”.  I’ll always treasure that piece of paper, it’s one the my most important keepsakes.

Years later I pull out that memento and the memory will replay again and again in my mind, but I still can’t figure out why I never called.