Wednesday, October 26, 2005

The Lady with the Flashlght Eyes

You killed my son, and now you must die.”

No, this is not the last thing my exmother-in-law said to me……although THAT is definitely material for a later blog…or therapy session…or both.

But I digress.

No, that line was spoken by a lady who terrorized me in two (maybe three) different states. A lady who still makes it impossible for me to sleep with drawers, cupboard doors or closet doors open. A lady who haunted my dreams for 5 years: The Lady with the Flashlight Eyes. Yeah, laugh now….go ahead. We’ll see if you’re still laughing at the end.
I don’t remember how old I was when I had the first dream. Maybe twelve? Maybe thirteen? But I certainly remember that first dream:
It is almost night, and somehow, I am alone, at the bottom of the hill. The wind is whipping around me, and it has begun to rain. I know I must make it up the hill quickly, before the rain makes the hill insurmountable, and forces me to walk home the long way. And “the long way”, would mean that I would be walking in the dark. I struggle up the hill, ignoring the whispering wind, pulling my jacket away from the grasping tree limbs, pushing my damp hair back from my face. The ground is quickly becoming a muddy stream. I frantically grab at the tall weeds to keep from falling.
“Can I help you, dear?” A voice and a hand appear from the top of the hill. “Yes,” I respond, taking the hand, “ thank you.”
The hand belongs to a woman – maybe in her thirties or forties. She has a broad face, and wild curly brown hair. But her eyes….are strange. In the setting light, it’s hard to tell the color. Are they brown? Black? Is the light playing a trick on my eyes? For it seems as if there is no white—
“What is a lovely young girl like you doing out?”
“Oh, I’m not out, m’am. I’m on my way home. See? That’s my house right down the street,” I answered, pointing to my house halfway down the block.
“Oh, I see. And where were you? Were you out with friends?”
“No, I was babysitting,” I responded. “How come the house is so dark? Aren’t Mom and Dad home yet?” I thought to myself.
“Oh, so you were earning money. How responsible of you.”
“Huh? I’m sorry, I was distracted. What did you say?”
I turn to look at her, just as the last beam of sunlight disappeared. And yes, her eyes are black! There is no white part around the outs---but wait! What’s happening to her eyes? They’re glowing….they’re growing, bigger. Shining—
“I said, how responsible!” She grabs both of my arms, and pulls me close, closer to those shining orbs that reside where her eyes had been, “now that you’ve killed my son, you become responsible! Well, you still must die! You killed my son, and now you must die!”
I break free and run! Run as fast as I can to the door. But I can hear her laughing, almost cackling, “ You must die! You killed my son! I can follow you anywhere! You killed—“
I grab the door handle, and run inside, slamming the door behind me.
“Mom! Dad! Are you here? Hurry! Mom!?!?!?”

“Missy! We’re right here!”
I sit, bolt up in my bed.
“Mom? Dad?”
“Missy. It’s okay. You just had a bad dream. Are you okay?”

Tune in for the next segment of….of course…..The Lady with the Flashlight Eyes.

Sunday, October 02, 2005

"No Blood, A Small Man and Condoms"…or "How I spent my Birthday"

After coercing Jade to write her bloody condom story – she has told me I must write my condom story – which,I promise, is not nearly as funny as hers – but it is true, and it is mine – so, here we go.

Drew and Ryan threw a lovely birthday for me last year, complete with champagne and other lovely spirits, lovely food, and absitively-poslutely lovely little waiters serving all. Of course, anytime that the party elements are involved, the conversation turns to sex.
“Airplane Jayne,” announced Drew, “we are tired of you being dateless. So we bought you a date.”
“I hope it’s Martin, the cute blonde waiter” I responded excitedly.
“No,” retorted Drew, “he’s gay. You can’t have him.”
“Stop it Drew!” admonished Ryan, “we don’t know if he’s gay. We just know you want to--!”
Drew interrupted, “Yes he is if I say he is! Anyway, PBj, err I mean APj, we bought you a man, and he’s naked – here!”
Without further ado, he presents me with a 6 inch man.
--yes that’s a 6 inch man – imagine the length of his pe—
“Just what am I suppose to do with him?” I asked.
“Well dahling,” cooed Drew, “throw him in the water, and he GROWS….to FIVE FEET”
I quickly calculated in my head the new anticipated height and length of his body parts – and threw him in the hot tub.
“Can I get you something?” asked Martin, the cute blonde waiter.
“Well, can you find me a towel for my date?”
“Date? Where is your date?” Martin alarmedly asked.
“Oh, that’s him, the 6 inch guy in the hot tub. I’m waiting for him to –err—expand.”
Martin, a bit confused, smiled sheepishly, and went in search of a towel….
“APj!” called Superman Steve, “Kajsa and I have a special present for you.”
I turned away from my hot-tubbing date, because...well, because a present is a present!!!

“Presents! I love presents! But make it quick! I’ve got a man in the tub waiting for me!”

“Yes, yes, APj. We’ve bought you something special—“
“Yes, “interjected Kajsa, “very special – and useful. But there really wasn’t time to wrap them”
Steve handed me a lovely green silk jewelry box.
“Oh, it’s lovely!” I gushed.
“But wait!” teased Steve, “We’ve put some –well, some jewelry inside.”

Okay, now every girl loves jewelry, right? I began to quiver in excitement. I do so love the anticipation. I slowly opened the lid. What could it possibly be? Earrings? A necklace? A bracel—

“Jayne?” came Martin’s soft voice in my ear, “here’s the towel for your date.”

Of course, a soft male voice in my ear slightly startled me
–hey, what do you expect after a long dry spell?
-- and I dropped my jewelry box --
--and all the lovely jewels came tumbling out.
--all forty of them.

“FORTY WHAT!?!?!?” I hear you screaming.

The room erupted as I embarrassedly bent to retrieve all my jewels, scattered across the floor. Drew retrieved my date, still only 6 inches tall with miniscule other parts, from the hot-tub.
“Oh PBj, I mean APj sweetie, I don’t think the jewels will fit on your date’s jewels!”

So Steve is picking up my condoms. Kajsa is picking up my condoms. Edwina and Pat are laughing and picking up my condoms. Martin, ever the gentleman, grabbed as many as he could. As he placed the twenty-or-so condoms in my hand, he said, “oh, by the way: I’m not gay”

Saturday, October 01, 2005

My inner selves...

Lecram found this site that told him how intelligent he is (70%scientific and 70% emotional) --
and yes, SSM, I agree with you: the math (140%) just doesn't add up!
Hel-LO, I used to do accounting and statistics!
So I took the test --
Yes -- the test is --
--but according to the test, so am I: 40% scientific and 65% emotional. See? Even those numbers don't add up. Dumb test.
But of course, it was a QUIZ site (Lecram, stop finding them. You know how I get with them.....)
So....I found out that I am:

a Ninja
You scored 8 Honor, 4 Justice, 5 Adventure, and 6 Individuality!
You are a soldier of the night. You rely on no more than your cunning and your repuation to strike fear in the hearts of lord and peasant alike. You've a sense of honor, but one that comes from within, not imposed from outside.

Black clothes and shuriken for you. You're gonna do just fine.

--hmmmm.....looks like RockstarMan won't be the only one in black....

And now....for something completely different:
the Cutting Edge
(61% dark, 46% spontaneous, 15% vulgar)
your humor style:

Your humor's mostly innocent and off-the-cuff, but somehow there's something slightly menacing about you. Part of your humor is making people a little uncomfortable, even if the things you say aren't themselves confrontational. You probably have a very dry delivery, or are seriously over-the-top.

Your type is the most likely to appreciate a good insult and/or broken bone and/or very very fat person dancing.

PEOPLE LIKE YOU: David Letterman - John Belushi

The'>">The 3-Variable Funny Test!
- it rules -

If you're interested, try my latest: The'>">The Terrorism Test

Okay - so get me in a dark room, do something spontaneous, and not too vulgar --

and yes...

I'll probably laugh....