Wanting some.....pie....

I’m not fond of nuts.
Not in my cookies, not in my brownies, and definitely not in my ice cream. A handful of nuts to snack on is fine – I just don’t like them mixing with other things. Nuts separate:okay. Nuts in things: not okay.

Why the sudden interest in nuts? Well, my friend, Jade took me to a new restaurant she found. She ordered the chicken, even though the waiter tried to convince her to try the lasagna. I ordered a nice Greek salad. I like Greek salad – some sun-dried tomatoes, kalmatta olives, feta cheese – it’s all good. I was happy!!

Okay, okay, I was satisfied and comfortable with my choice, until that damn waiter showed up, all smiles and asked, “Would you like some pecan pie for dessert?” “No thank you,” I responded politely, “ I don’t really care for nuts.” “Are you sure?” he persisted, “it is the best in town.” “No, “ I firmly declined, “perhaps next time.”

And then Jade tells me how good the pecan pie is. How much everyone loves the pecan pie, and perhaps I ought to try the pecan pie. I look at that dessert cart as he walks away, and yes – it does look like a nice slice of pie. “Hmm,” I think to myself, “perhaps I am mature enough to like nuts in things.” So I decide to try the pecan pie the next time we go out for lunch.

Hours pass. Days pass. Weeks pass, and I keep thinking about that pecan pie. How all those nuts are stuck together in a gooey sweet mess, and pressed firmly into that crust. I wonder if their crunchy or mushy? They look crunchy – but looks can be deceiving. I wonder how sweet that gooey stuff is – perhaps not sweet at all. What if it’s really bitter? What if that salt from the nuts makes the gooey stuff salty? Hmmm – maybe that’s why they put whip cream on top – I wonder if it’s real whip cream – or just Cool Whip? Should I use a fork or a spoon – or just use my hands? Yes, yes, I was obsessed with the pecan pie.

So I decide to go and try the pecan pie. I go to the restaurant, and that same waiter comes over. I start to order my Greek salad, and decide to forego the main course. Damn it, I came for the pecan pie, I’ll just start with dessert! (What a rebel!)
“Would you like the Greek salad?”
“No, thank you. I think I’d like to try the pecan pie.”
“Pecan pie?”
“Yes, please.”
“We don’t serve pecan pie.”
“But just a few weeks ago, you suggested I try the pecan pie—“
“Ma’am, I don’t know what you’re talking about. We don’t serve pecan pie. Perhaps you’d like a nice slice of lemon meringue?”

I hate nuts….

last one....I PROMISE....okay,maybe the almost last one...

can't help it!
These are just too fun! Found this one on Pauls post -- who, btw, has been quite the eye-candy in all this HNT frivolity.....

Your Superhero Profile

Your Superhero Name is The Arch FoxYour Superpower is Artificial IntelligenceYour Weakness is MidgetsYour Weapon is Your Strobe BoomerangYour Mode of Transportation is Dragon

What's" your Superhero Name?

midgets have always freaked me out, even though my fave movie is Wizard of Oz. Would love to ride a dragon - the real kind, boys -- not the one you've nicknamed and carry around with you!

My weapon is my Strobe Boomerang........that's just plain nasty.......I think I like it......

thanks, Lecram....you KNOW how crazy I get with these things....

You Are Not Scary

Everyone loves you. Isn't that sweet?

How Scary Are You?

yup, yup. EVERbody luvs me......

Your Hidden Talent

You are both very knowledgeable and creative.You tend to be full of new ideas and potential - big potential.Ideas like yours could change the world, if you build them.As long as you don't stop working on your dreams, you'll get there.

What's" Your Hidden Talent?

hmmm, big potential, creative and know-it-all, --err, knowledgeable...

and finally, my favorite...and not because it says I was gorgeous....okay, okay, it IS because it says I was gorgeous! Remember: I AM shallow...

In a Past Life...

You Were: A Gorgeous Poet. Where You Lived: Thailand. How You Died: Consumption.

Who Were You In a Past Life?

The Lady with the Flashlight Eyes, part 3

continued from part 2:

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. "Gosh, this seems familiar," I tell myself, "kinda deja-"
“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.
"Crap! It's her! How'd I get here, again?" I ask myself.

I closed my eyes, willing myself to be anywhere but here. "Please,please, anywhere but-"
I opened my eyes --

And I'm running up the stairs to my house. "How'd I get here? I ask myself, "How'd I get from the hill to the house?" 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. I head for the kitchen, still reeling with deja-vu. As I walk into the kitchen, I notice that some of the cabinet doors are open. “That lazy -- NO!" And I know, without looking that
There’s an arm reaching out of the lower cabinet
-- and it will grab hold of the cabinet door, and out she will step

-and so I close my eyes, "Please, please, anywhere but here."
And when I open my eyes, I'm in a beautiful meadow. Safe. "Cool," I can transport out of a bad dream."

The dreams continued for 2-3 years. Sometimes, I knew it would be one of "those" dreams; I would be plagued in the dream with deja-vu. I would know that something bad was going to happen -- and if I recognized the warnings early enought, I could "move" myself out of the dream, although some "moves" were into even more dangerous or deadly places.

"The Lady with the Flashlight Eyes" saga started while we lived in Merced California, and stopped about six months after we moved to Lincoln Nebraska. My family had much fun teasing me along the way: JoJo would leave cupboards open, Jeff would put mini-flashlights by his eyes at night to scare me.......but the biggest scare came a year or so after I had the last dream -- and happened in real life during a hot summer afternoon:

"Jayne!" Susan dug her elbow into my side, "Come on! This is our stop!"
"Huh?" I quickly stood up, and followed Susan off the bus.
"Jayne, you've been acting funny all day. What's kicking?"
"I dunno Susan, I just feel funny. Kinda having some deja-vu."
"Cool! You doing that ESP stuff? Tell me my future!!!!"
Susan loved to tease me, and usually I was up for it. But all morning I'd had a strange feeling in my gut. Something was up -- something bad was goin--
"Jayne! Here's that incense shop I told you about! The woman was really nice last week. She told me if I brought some friends in that she'd give us some free stuff."Susan grabbed me by the had, and dragged me into the small store.
--Dark. My nose was bombarded with incense and candles. And something else. something familiar -- but I couldn't place my finger on it. And all the while, that deja-vu feeling was becoming stronger and stronger. Susan was dragging me towards the back of the store. There was a woman there, with her back to us.
"Ma'am? Hi! I was here last week. You told me to come back with some friends --"
"Yes, deary," the woman said, and started to turn around, "How responsible of you, deary --"

It was her! The Lady with the Flashlight Eyes - for real! I closed my eyes, and said, "please, please, anywhere but here" and opened my eyes - but she was still there. Those eyes - all black, with no white around the edges. And she looked at me--

and smiled.
She knew.

I grabbed Susan, and ran out of the store. I continued to run for three blocks before I stopped, and told Susan who it was in the store.

I made my mother sleep in my room for the next three nights.

--And I still can't sleep with drawers, cupboards or closets open.

I got tagged by Lecram.....

not graffitti tagged
not flag football tagged
not chasey-chasey taggy-taggy tagged
but blog-tagged --

so here's what my tagstuctions were:

1. Go into your archives.
2. Find your 23rd post.
3. Post the fifth sentence (or closest to it).
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
5. Tag five other people to do the same thing.


Okay, my 23rd post was shortly after the bombing in London. It was entitled "Taking Inventory."

5th line:
...But tonight I forced myself to ”take stock” of all the good things and blessings in my life.


5th sentence:
1. I am grateful that my friends across the pond are all okay. And that some are so much more than acceptable…


So, there ya' go! And, I'm gonna tag: Jade, SSM, Kien, Mustang, and hmmm....I don't know anyone else.......Brad Pitt?????

Lady with the Flashlight Eyes - Part 2

continued from part 1:

“Mom? Dad?” I call out, “are you here?”
There’s no answer, and the house is dark, save for the lone light in the kitchen.
“Ahhh!” panic grips my throat as I feel something brush against my leg. But my scream turns to a giggle. “Casper!” I reach down and scoop up the cat that is rubbing and purring against my leg, “you silly cat! You scared me – but not as much as this crazy woman I met outside. Thank God I made it into the house!”
I walk shakily through the house, turning lights on. I hate the dark. And I hate being home alone. But there’s nothing worse than being home alone in the dark. I shudder, and head for the kitchen.
“Who do you suppose she is, Casper? What was she talking about? ‘You killed my son, you must die?’ She must be some nut, huh?”
As I walk into the kitchen, I notice that some of the cabinet doors are open. “That lazy JoJo! She puts the dishes away – and leaves the doors open. I don’t know wh-"

There’s an arm reaching out of the lower cabinet.

It grabs hold of the cabinet door, and out she steps – those huge eyes glowing – “Thanks for leaving a door open for me, sweetie!” And her arm comes up, clutching the biggest, shiniest knife I’ve ever seen.
“No! How’d you –“but my brain interjects, “Stupid! Run!”

I throw Casper at her, hissing and clawing. I turn and run for the stairs. Casper buys me a few precious moments, but I hear her leaving the kitchen, and following me. I slam the bathroom door closed behind me. With my ear against the door, I listen. Is she coming up the stairs? Why don’t I hear her? She can’t possibly know that the 3rd step from the top squeaks – but how come I haven’t heard her? Where is sh—

There’s a squeak – but it’s coming from behind me, not the other side of the door.

I wheel around, in time to see those eyes – peering out from the cabinet under the sink. “Stupid girl!” she sneered, “not so responsible now, are you? You left the cabinet open! Makes it easier for me. Betcha didn’t know they’re all connected, eh?”

I bolt out of the bathroom – which way, which way? Bedroom, or back downstairs? But I don’t remember how many cupboards are open in the kitchen – so it’s the bedroom! Screaming, I run down the hall, towards my room, but I can almost feel her breath on the back of my neck – feel the breeze created by her blade. I reach the sanctuary of my room, slamming the door shut behind me. She’s pushing from the other side and laughing, “Stupid girl! Bad choice, eh deary? No locks! No locks!”
And the pushing stops. Where is she? Frantically I scan the room – no cupboards or cabinets, so I should be—
Her arm! Coming out of my dresser drawer! I fly across the room, slamming the drawer shut, forcing her back.
“Heh, heh – getting a bit smarter, are we? Next time – next time – we’ll see. My poor boy, my poor boy – dead because of you—dead bec—“

I shudder and awake. "Wow, what a dream!" I think aloud, "just like that one from a few weeks ago"
Rolling over, I see the dresser drawer is open…..I scramble out of bed and shove it closed.
“Jaynie?” Jojo calls groggily from her bed, “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing…go back to sleep. Just – well, we can’t leave the drawers open anymore –‘kay? Cause….well, ‘cause we can’t, that’s all.”

Stay tuned -- for the next installment of The Lady with the Flashlight Eyes