03/01 Direct Link
I’m such a non-techie. I mean, I can do techie stuff (don’tcha just hate that word?), but it takes a while for it to sink into my brain—especially if I don’t use it on a regular basis. For example, since I only burn photo or music cd’s every couple months, typically I sit there and muddle through the task, eventually reaching my intended goal. It takes a little more time than the average techie Joe. But wow! tonight I was burning a photo cd, and it took me much less time than usual! I guess I’m improving. . .
03/02 Direct Link
Lisa slammed the plate down in front of her customer. Short, dark hair, navy-blue suit, shiny black shoes. Different days, same faces. The once quaint bistro, with its timely, friendly service-with-a-smile attitude, complete with a tuna melt on a “kwaa-son” had evolved into a hash-slinging frenzy with a frown. It had all seemed so easy back then. Back then before the crow’s landed near her eyes, and before her cheeks began to go south. How many years had she been at this? Ten? Fifteen? The years all melded into one, and she could no longer understand the concept of time.
03/03 Direct Link
“Happy Birthday, Honey!! What did you wish for?”

“I wished for a genie and three additional wishes. Do you think I’ll get it?”

“Sure, why not? Wishes are magical; sometimes they blow in on the down of a globe thistle seed, and sometimes they appear before you like a firecracker popping!”

“Maybe this one’ll creep in like yesterday’s fog,” Jairus replied, apprehensively. “I’ll need time to think, since I wouldn’t know what in the world to even begin to wish for!”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll come to you easily enough,” answered Jaacov. “And when they do, you’ll know.”

Jairus smiled.
03/04 Direct Link
Sweet Miss Tilly was the nicest gal in town. You could always smell the enticing aroma of freshly-baked treats wafting from every window in her bright blue cottage with the pale pink picket fence going around the perimeter of the freshly-mown yard. All she’d have to do is sit on the veranda with that icy pitcher of pale pink lemonade on a sweltering summer day, and invitations would abound. “Come on over, kids!” Sweet Miss Tilly would call, her voice not unlike a tinkling glass wind chime on the wind. Of course we’d all come a-runnin’, dreaming of those delectables!
03/05 Direct Link
Jazz is an art explosion in both my head and my heart--all this musical paint explodes and lands in globs and splashes, coating my brain in fusion and encasing my heart with funk. A jam session flows throughout my body; the tempo speeds up as it rounds the curvatures of my arms, waist, and hips, and the rhythm slows once it reaches the long stretch of my legs. As the instruments slipshufflegroove, my toes begin to energetically move. On the keyboards of my soul, I play my fingers to the bone. Black, white, an encore performance in my being.
03/06 Direct Link
Ere a nightmare goes by, it gets snatched by the nymphs of the night, so your ensuing slumber is soft, ceaseless, serene. But ere a dream goes by, it is calmly coaxed into the heterochromatic swirling of your nocturnal fantasy land. Plots twist and turn, while faces lurk in shadows, together creating disjointed tales, and little sense do they make. When the moon bids adieu, this roller coaster of thoughts and images simply vanishes into the nothingness of the day, but wild visions and apparitions manifest themselves as random, fleeting thoughts in your psyche, never again to be fully recaptured.
03/07 Direct Link
Soft, billowy, pale pink puffs spiral around a crisp, paper cone. A subtle scent of sugar floats from the depths of the spinning silver into the shuffling, noisy crowd. Eyes sparkle, grins appear—everyone’s suddenly in a mad dash, noses pertly sniffing the delicate trail in the light, airy breeze. Little blonde curls giggle in delight, in anticipation of the mouth-watering treat. Papá, smiling, reaches deep into the folds of his gabardine and extracts a handful of jangling coins. Eyes teary, he hums the tune of the organ grinder from a thousand yesterdays, as he and the child sweetly indulge.
03/08 Direct Link
As Lola stepped from the bus, she felt dozens of eyes burning into her back. “Why does this eerie feeling persist inside of me?” she inquired of the hydrant on the corner. Lola turned and watched the bus huff slowly and noisily away into the busy city traffic, like a buffalo rejoining the herd. However, she noticed not a head on that bus was turned toward her. “I must be getting paranoid,” she reasoned, “or I’m just imagining things.” But as she glanced across the bustling street, the mysterious man under the store awning was no figment of her imagination.
03/09 Direct Link
Down, down, down. Her soul spiraled rapidly toward the sinister and fiery pit of hell, expecting nothing but the worst. Imagining how magnificent and peaceful the other world would have been, she noticed her soul was lessening its downward pace, and she began to experience a sort of floating sensation. Her soul eventually calmed, as she observed the environment around her. She realized she was not surrounded by flames at all; ironically, it was the exact opposite. Everywhere she looked, she witnessed nothing but frozen walls and glaciers of pastel blue ice. She suddenly shivered. Oddly, it was quite peaceful.
03/10 Direct Link
CrackleCrunch!CrackleCrunch! I could feel the wet stickiness inside of my mouth as I munched on the golden-brown, crispy, caramel-coated puffs of popcorn. I smiled with happiness, the toothless top of my mouth full of the masticated sugary mess. I dug my pointy little index finger down into the box, but it was a false alarm. It wasn’t the prize at all! To my chagrin, all I’d pulled from the box was a candy-covered peanut. I’d have to burrow slightly deeper to reach the greatest treat of all—the red, white, and blue paper wrapper that secured the coveted toy surprise.
03/11 Direct Link
It’s a beautiful pseudo-spring day here in Colorado, and I’m stuck indoors getting my final grades done. Afterward I’ll do my planning. Thankfully, I don’t have too much to plan, as we will soon be starting our research paper in the junior class, and the freshmen are taking their state standardized tests. So we have a couple of half days this week to get ready for our classes when they resume after spring break, which is in a couple weeks. Hallelujah! I can hardly wait, and I know my students are impatient, also. Sure hope we don’t get a blizzard!
03/12 Direct Link
“Chocolate Drops and Lemon Tears” by Christine Antypas

Chocolate drops
and lemon tears
Help to chase
away my fears.

In a fix
I pucker up,
cry enough
to fill a cup.

When the sour
taste is gone,
I pivot ‘round
and move along.

If in a jam
I do become,
I pop in a drop,
Toss off my gum.

It slowly melts
my stress away.
And sweetens up
the remaining day.

So if you stop
from fright or fear
Try chocolate drops
and lemon tears!

It’s really hard writing a poem and having it limited to exactly 100 words. Really hard.
03/13 Direct Link
“Sweeten the pot, my friend,” Harry urged his friend Ned, whose turn it was to place the next bet. It had been the same scenario Friday after Friday, month after month, year after year, for roughly twenty-two years now. They looked forward to the nights where they could throw on their comfy sweatshirts, jeans, and loafers, leave the lovingly nagging atmosphere of home, and gather at Ned’s for an uninterrupted night of poker. Blow massive poofs of cigar smoke at one another, guzzle brewskies, and munch incessantly on pretzels and chips. Ah, those Friday nights kept the five guys alive.
03/14 Direct Link
“Good grief, this is killin’ me! First you throw me on the floor, where I proceed to lie for days, smelling up the room. Then you scoop me up with a bunch of other smelly guys, wad us up, and throw us into this dark, deep, hard, cold cylinder. We get soaked with water and this really potent stream of blue fluid, and then we get jiggled and spun and soaked and spun, until our heads are reeling! I just get so nauseous! And if all that wasn’t already bad enough—we get ready for the rides of our lives!!
03/15 Direct Link
“Wow! Would you check him out!?!” she whispered breathily to her friend. They’d been shopping at Bloomingdale’s all day and were laden with bags full of such pretties as satin and lace lingerie, bottles upon bottles of Givenchy, and lively, provocative party attire.
“Aww...he’s just a guy,” her friend bitterly responded.
“You never know—this could be the guy!” she gushed enthusiastically.
“Fat chance. He’ll be like all the others,” came the once again acerbic reply.
“I can’t believe you! You mean you don’t believe such things that happen in fairy tales?” she was incredulous and mildly insulted.
Fairy tales??”
03/16 Direct Link
My opinion of why you should see the film, Cold Mountain. Overall, I believe it has a little smidgeon of something for everyone’s tastes. It takes place during the Civil War, and the battle scenes are phenomenal--very raw and realistic. And girls—the clothes! Of course, it’s the epic love-slash-hero’s-journey-home story. It’s one of the sweetest love stories I’ve ever seen on the big screen. It’s a story of a couple who meet in North Carolina; he goes off to war, and she promises to wait. He gets injured, and. . .why should I spoil it?? Go rent it!
03/17 Direct Link
Music—one of those few “abstract nouns” I could never live without. It’s a passion for me; I’ve grown up with it, and it wholly touches my soul. It’s way cool that so many songs tell stories, whether you can figure them out or not. They’re poetry with a melody, and they can teach lessons... For example, many songs during the late 60’s and early 70’s songs educated us about such social issues as the Vietnam War, racial segregation and hateful acts toward blacks in America, and so forth. Irish rockers U2 carried on this tradition later, in the ‘80’s.
03/18 Direct Link
Why wonder?
wondered I.
Why ponder?
pondered I.
Why even shout
my happy news on high?
When the end results are that
my heart breaks,
and I cry?
It seems all the others
simply have the luck.
Nowadays I’m feeling
like I just don’t give a f*ck.
I’m in a rut;
I’m in a funk.
I’m really sick of dealing
with all this junk.
I wonder how I’ll be greeted
in the Promised Land?
Will I still do for myself,
or will they lend me a hand?

Wow, that’s a gamble;
I’d better just go back
to playing the game.
03/19 Direct Link
last night i dreamed i was soaring over a silent ocean of deep, deep blue. i had sleek, alabaster wings (that spanned at least a yard across from tip to tip) that carried me far, far above the clouds, spinning and swirling me, so all i saw were the dizzying specks of the ant-people below. but despite the nausea, at least i was free at last! free to deeply inhale the toxic chemicals in the air, free to pay one-third my salary in taxes, free to dine in corporate chain restaurants! no matter how spirited one feels, he’s never free.
03/20 Direct Link
Once upon a time, there was a little boy Blue, who married a golden princess. They had green children, which became the martians that eventually took over the entire universe. Decades prior, the green children had always been quite innocent while moving through their childhood experiences. They all figured they were Irish, since each was green. During their adolescent years, they noticed they were very different from all the other children. So they began to rebel and revolt, and they commenced to contrive an elaborate scheme. No longer would they accept what authority tried forcing down their throats. . .
03/21 Direct Link
Why do they keep staring at me? I’m not such a hopeless case, even though I drool more of my food down my chin than into my throat. Just because my muscles don’t function properly, it doesn’t mean that I don’t have some semblance of intelligence. I mean, just because I look funny walking up a staircase or opening a door, that doesn’t mean that real, intellectually stimulating thoughts aren’t cropping up left and right in my mind! You know, they’re staring, but they really don’t see me. If they did, they wouldn’t stare. If they’d just talk to me...
03/22 Direct Link
Sandy casually sauntered into the ladies’ room, glancing quickly but nonchalantly behind her at the couple seated in Booth One. She smiled at the young girl, whose lipstick and pigtails were lopsided. The girl returned the greeting. Sandy’s mind wandered to the nice, polished young boy who’d escorted her to the malt shop, and a warm, fuzzy sensation rushed through her limbs. Combing her hair, Sandy thought about whether or not Tommy would give her a good night kiss. He seemed shy, she thought. She looked in the mirror and gasped, pressing her fingertips to her mouth. Her top button...missing...
03/23 Direct Link
“Jeremiah! Whatchoo doin’?” Mammy hollered from the house. “Pappy’s needin’ ya down at the barn!” she bellowed into the autumn breeze. “I’m comin’, I’m comin’!” was the reply of one sleepy Jeremiah. He’d been out at the tavern all last evening, pitching woo to the neighbor’s eldest daughter, Eliza, whom everyone had called Lizzy from the time she was feeding on her mama. Jeremiah had been sweet on little Lizzy ever since the third grade, and he’d made a vow that someday he would marry her. He’d never asked her yet because her papa scared the bejeezus out of him.
03/24 Direct Link
“Awesome, dude! I just got brain freeze!”

“Oh man! The other day I had the sugar shakes, man!”

“Whoa! Sure that wasn’t a caffeine buzz?”

“No man, it was definitely the sugar shakes.”

“So dude, whadja do?”

“Oh man, I had to down some fries really quick! Then I ate a burger. Pretty much I quit shakin’ after that.”

“That’s cool. I really dig the superquick head rush you get from ice cream. That brain freeze rocked!”

“We’ll have to go crank a few Spikes after this and get some major caffeine buzz goin’ on, ya know?”

“Dude, sounds excellent!”
03/25 Direct Link
Goin’ round and round
in dizzying circles
of betrayal, lust,
and travesty.
Sweet friend, good friend
both of the past.
Stepped over the line—
crossed that boundary.
no forgiveness available
for either.
Tapped out.
Mentally, emotionally.
No respect
for self or others.
Carry on your wayward paths,
destroy other lives.
Whores of today
become stains on tomorrow.
Community contaminants
that won’t wash away.
No respect
No sympathy
No tolerance
No kidding.
You’ve made your nauseating beds
You’ll have to lie in the debris
left in your wake
But this Phoenix will rise
once again
and rejoin the comedy of errors.
03/26 Direct Link
“Clang! Clang!” The dinner bell sent out its regular tinny signal as the prisoners filed in slowly, listlessly. Seemingly mile after mile of rhythmic gray cloth and black leather boots with slicked-back hair and sleeves rolled to the elbow. They noiselessly gathered their trays and filed up to the polished, sterile aluminum counters to receive their nightly rations. The usual rounded dollop of gray mush accompanied by three small lumpy spheres of something akin to meat, and a handful of withered string beans. All devoid of flavor, like the rows upon rows of dismal figures seated on the cafeteria benches.
03/27 Direct Link
Tears spilled from Catherine’s eyes--tears that had been pent up inside of her for too long now. They spilled out, and she couldn’t stop them. Tears of sorrow, tears of anguish, tears of betrayal, and mostly, tears of pain. Catherine heard sympathetic words from her friends and was grateful for them, but she just couldn’t wash the stains from her mind. Her very own friend and her former lover—how could they have betrayed her like that? What had she ever done all of her life to deserve this kind of treatment? All she had ever been was nice...
03/28 Direct Link
She had loved him; he hadn’t known it, but she did. He was sweet, funny, and most of all, she felt safe when she was with him. He treated her with kindness and respect; he took good care of her when they were together. He was so handsome, too, and those eyes! Those sparkling, twinkling eyes. Lately they looked empty. But it was his choice, his decision to go. She thought they’d be together for a long time. She thought he had feelings for her. But now, his whoring around creates such pestilence, he can no longer bear her goodness.
03/29 Direct Link
an elusive autumn leaf,
a fire’s flyaway spark
floating in the wind,
chasing, teasing,
tormenting your emotions.

If you’re lucky enough
to catch it,
you must appreciate it
because gone it will be
without a moment’s notice.
Before you even know
what hits you,
it whirls away as quickly
as it once so powerfully descended.

And if the wheel of fortune
lets you keep it for awhile,
like a childhood play toy
or a lost memory,
you must nurture it
cherish it,
enjoy it to its fullest
because you never know
if you’ll ever have it again.
03/30 Direct Link
“The Prize”

The prize at my birthday party
was the prize I
didn’t get.
It was what I
thought was supposed
to be my boyfriend.

Little did I know that a so-called friend
was lusting after
the prize.
Hunger for him ached inside
her as she cheerfully
chatted and dined
amongst “friends”.

I lost the prize
on my birthday
after I helped
the Jezebel
with my muscle
and sweat
packing and carrying
moving her
on my birthday.

And what kind
of a prize do I now get?
Jezebel screwed
the prize I
was deceivingly
led to believe
would be mine.
03/31 Direct Link
You want a great way to get someone out of your head? My friend shared this tactic the other night, I tried it, and it’s working!! You see, any time those thoughts of the “one you’re used to thinking about” come into your mind, you speak aloud to him or her, saying something like, “Go away, so-and-so; you’re not welcome in my brain anymore.” That’s all you do, each time. It’s sort of like a “de-programming” device. I know it sounds bizarre, but it works. I wish I’d have known about it during my divorce—I would’ve become healthier, sooner!