What If

•September 1, 2009 • Leave a Comment

Grasshoppers sang and i felt someone’s hand shaking me awake on the shoulder. What the crap? Why am i in a motel? Who is this guy?! I grabbed the phone off the nearby nightstand and was about to throw it when i remembered everything from last night. Peter stared at me looking frightened. I smiled sheepily and put the phone down, ” ‘Mornin’”

“Geez, Erin, I thought you were going to try to kill me.” He said and rubbed the back of his head, which i have come to learn that he does when he is unsure. “Sorry to wake you up so early but, we need to get going.”

“What time is it?” I looked out the window and it was pitch black outside, you know the color Peter almost had me dye my hair? I could still hear grasshoppers singing outside.

“Four a.m.” He said matter-of-factly, “We need to get you some clothes and things. Not to mention get a different car.” I wish I had peeled out when he had gotten out of the car at the park. “You can use the bathroom first” he offered quietly.

I went to the bathroom and realized that i didin’t really have much to do in there, seeing as i didn’t have a toothbrush or toothpaste, no hairbrush, all i could do was take a quick shower and put on the same clothes.

About fifteen minutes later i was out and Peter was headed into the bathroom and by 4:30 a.m. we were ready to check-out of the motel. We went to the main desk and the concierge looked up at us in sleepy surprise, “Is everything alright with your room?”

“It’s fine, we just need to get an early start this morning.” Peter said happily, arghhh i hate morning people!

“Alright, Mr…Prewitt.” The concierge looked at the name under our room number, “just have your wife sign these and you are welcome to our complementary coffee.” I signed the paperwork and eyed Peter grumpily.

“I must be one of the youngest wives ever” I grumbled as I slid into the drivers’ seat of the Ol’ Aspire.

“Don’t say that, Mrs. Prewitt,” Peter smiled sweetly at me, “We were high school sweethearts.” I hrrmphd and put the car into gear.

We ended up going to one of those used car places that looks like it is really in someone’s front yard, in fact, i am pretty sure it was. I painfully let go of Ol’ Aspire for the traded car: 1984 El Camino. Yeah, i know i just went from bad to worse. But, i guess when you are in a life and death situation you really don’t have much of a choice.

Peter bartered with  the owner of the lot, who kept insisting that a Chevy El Camino that was in this good of condition was worth more than my Aspire-to which i took offense. I know my Aspire isn’t a 1967 Firebird or anything, but atleast it is cuter than an El Camino! But, the owner-a dude named Burt-said that for me he would make an exception. So, upon eyeing my man Burt, Ol’ Aspire was traded for the El Camino.

Then, we hit the road. Peter insisted on driving and we rode in silence all the way to El Paso, Texas.  I don’t know if you have ever been to El Paso, but let me just say that the city is not one of my favorites. Everyone looks at you like they have somethign to hide and that you are making them tell you their secret. I know this because we stopped in El Paso because our charming El Camino overheated and we needed to put water into the carberator. We stopped at a gas station and Peter looked at me, “I’ll go get the water” I said and rolled my eyes.

The gas station is exactly like one of those old gas stations you see in horror movies where some hick works behind the counter and offers sage but nonsensical advice. Except, instead of a hick was a hispanic dude that was actually very nice. I grabbed four bottles of Aquafina and waited in line.

“Meja, what i am telling you is that…no,no,no,no,” The lady in front of me rambled into her cell phone

What If

•May 21, 2009 • Leave a Comment

Okay, so normally if a stranger were to ask me where the nearest motel is  I would point in some vague and distant direction and NOT go with him. But, under the circumstances I think it is allowable. I helped Peter back into the passenger side of my car and began driving for the nearest motel, which was, as fate would have it, on the outskirts of town. Once, we parked he handed my a hundred dollar bill, ” Go in and ask for a single room for the night.”

Now, i don’t know much but i do know that they ask for ID at motels. Which means that Peter does not want to be found, and the reason for which he still hadn’t told me. But, i figured he would tell me soon enough and got out of the car.

Once inside the motel room, Peter plopped onto the bed. I could see the mud smudges on his shoulder and he seemed to be in a lot of pain.”Let me get some ice.” I say and grab a bucket and head for the door.

“There’s no need,” He said and grabbed my hand, ” I don’t heal the way you guys do. I just need to rest for little bit, and then we can decide what to do.”

I nod my head and expect him to sleep, but instead he looks up at me,”I bet you have tons of questions for me, eh?” I smiled sheepishly.

“I will tell you the whole truth, but, once in you’re in, you’re in. There’s no going back. You’ll be in danger.” He looked me dead in the eye. That feeling in the pit of my stomach again, and again it wasn’t the burrito. Common sense told me to say something, but instead i just stared. Peter waited for me to indicate what my intention was, but it is hard to do when you don’t even know yourself. I mean there was a lot to think about: my family-i mean i am not off the radar and so my family could easily be targeted. Then, there was school to think about. Did i really want to rick my education over some stranger? But, wait. Isn’t someone’s life more important than sitting in some classroom? Well, even if i do help this guy what about my roommate/bestfriend? I could just hear her grandma now with her thick southern accent, “She knew full well she shouldn’t be messin’ with that man. She just be a mess all over!” These thoughts circled round and ’round my head and i was getting dizzy.

“Are you alright?” Peter asked concerned. He got up from the bed and walked up to me. Instinctively, i took a step back and looked into his eyes. The green calmed me, and then irritateded me. I was acting all weird and twitterpaitted. That’s right twitterpaitted.

“How dangerous is the danger?” I asked eyeing him, in what i hoped was intimidating.

“Are there degrees?” He asked sarcastically.

“Well, yeah!” I said irritatedly. “Duh, i mean there is danger financially, emotionally, and then of course there is the mortal peril kind-”

“Alright, alright,” he said quietly. I was rambling and sortof freaking out. I was making an idiot out of myself. I like to think that i am sort of brave, moralistic, beaken of light. But, in reality i am a big weaney. I looked at him and he said, ” Mortal peril, is that what you called it? Well, that is the danger that you’d be getting into.” I exhaled. Not that the idea of mortal peril calmed me, but atleast now i knew what i was working with.

“Why do these ‘Watchers’ want you?” I asked. He exhaled looked at his shoes and sat on the bed.

“Because i am what the government calls a Drifter. My kind blends into the populace and they don’t like that.”

“Why? doesn’t everyone blend into their culture or society in one way or another?” I asked, “I mean, if you’re a human being what does it matter?”

At my attempt of humor Peter’s face froze. That burrito feeling came back, and in the context this question totally made sense i swear. “You are human aren’t you?”

“Erin, i wish i could tell you what i was. I was born and this is what i am. I heal rapidly, am athletically inclined…” he put his head in his hands. I didn’t know what  to do, so i sat on the bed next to him and stared at the cracks in the cheap motel paint. A line of ants were crawling from a hole in the baseboards up to somewhere behind the beaten up dresser. Suddenly, Peter looked up at me. It looked like he wanted to tell me something, but he didn’t. We just sat and looked at one another, and i felt like it was the first time i have ever been seen. His gaze flickered up to my hair and traveled down over my forehead, eyebrows, nose, lips, and then back to my eyes. I realized that i was gazing back at his jet black hair down his olive skinned face and straight nose, and back at those big green eyes. He had stubble on his face from what i can only guess were days of not shaving. I had never seen or been seen like that before, and never since. I was an alien in the world, a world with muted colors but vibrant beings that wander and not ever really know anything. The force that spins the earth continues and changes but, to what purpose? Another day breaks against the self like waves break on themselves in the sea, only to beckon another season for a steady passage of time that decays life. To what purpose? A desert lily breaks through the earthen clay only to whither. But, looking at Peter made all that disappear-i don’t know why or how.

I shook my head, this guy was making me emo and all Emersonian-esque. “What do we do know?” I asked. My voice was surprisingly strong and steady.

“Well, we need to get away from here to the  Underground.”

“What’s the Underground?”

“It’s the last establishment for Drifters. We’ll be safe there until the Watchers go back to regroup.”

“What is it exactly that the Watchers want?” This seemed too easy and all too confusing to me.

“Us dead, and anyone that helps us.” He said it so simply.

“And the Underground is just like a base for Drifters and there friends?”

“Kind of. It’s a base in the way your government has bases. They protect, plan, and execute. All Drifters want is to live in peace and thrive until the Coming.”

“The Coming?”I asked.

He shook his head, frustrated. “I”m sorry.” I said, “This is all new to me, so i’m sorry that you have-”

“No,” he said,”I’m not mad at you…I’m mad at myself. I shouldn’t be telling you all this. You are already in enough danger and here I am just getting you involved deeper. It is I who am sorry.”

I shook my head, “You are a dork.”

Okay, so that wasn’t as eloquent as i had planned. But, it got his attention so, i guess it’s okay. “I already have decided to help you. Or do you not remember me bringing you here?” A twitch. Great. a twitch that either was a laugh, a sigh, or a yell.

“Alright. I’ll explain what i can to you right now. But, after that we need to change your appearance and get some rest. Deal?”

“Deal.” I said.

So, here is the part where i can try to explain everything to you his way with all the eloqution of his perfect intonation. Or i can give you the spark notes; and since, I am the one telling the story i am going to give it to you my way.

So the drifters have been on our planet for like zabillion years and helped the Egyptians build the pyramids, the chinese and their wall against the Huns, and Guttenberg with his press. I know, right? When Peter was like “The Drifters have tried to help humanity as well as grow along side them for millenia, things like the Pyramids at Giza, yada yada, and the printing press.” I was like, “Hoo, hooold on there, drifterman, what does the printing press have to do with anything?” He was all, “After the printing press the world was changed. Revolutions were waged and won before a single musketed soldier set boot to soil. People found their voice, a faith, and beauty. The printing press changed everything.”

Anyway, back to the Drifters. So, pretty much every major battle, war, and establishment they have been apart of. But, in 1692 in Massachusettes in a little town-you may have heard of it-Salem they were finally outed. I mean, different villages and people groups had figured it out earlier, but they learned to live in peace with the Drifters. However, there was a civil war amongst the Drifters: between one race called the Cassenders and the Crossers. The Cassenders and the Crossers would go into the forest for peace talks, but here is where it gets tricky. The Crossers are called Crossers because they didn’t see interbreeding with humans as wrong, they felt that if there was the ability to naturally fit together then it was another part of nature (enough said about that). Anyway, Cassenders-i don’t really know where there name comes from, maybe they were all Cassenders until Crossers were named-anway, they are purists. So, anyway one night  in the forest a little girl named Martha Goodwin comes upon the Drifters in their peace talk and overhears all the sex stuff and sees Goody Glover with one of the Drifters and runs out of the forest. Goody Glover follows her and explains to her that it was an elders meeting, but little Martha questions why the minister wasn’t there. Glover tries to say it is for a party for the minister but little Martha is on to the lie-impure things was the conversation and that is where Martha has Glover. She blackmails Glover under the threat of exposure.

Despite the Martha incident the peace talks continue but a couple of weeks later Martha brings her little brother and two sisters to spy on the Drifters. The people of Salem notice that the Goodwin children are acting strangely, and a Reverend Cotton Mather is called in. Martha explains to Mather that Glover is not of this earth-which of course she had wrong, Glover is just a human woman in love with a Crosser. Then, Glover is outed before the community to be otherworldly, which was misunderstood by Mather to mean she was  a witch, and Glover  is eventually hanged. By now the Drifters have united to protect their secret, however, it is too late ,for many children of Salem joined the bandwagon of accusation. Most notably Abigail Williams, who herself was a halfbreed, but of course did not know.

By now Mather’s famous Memorable Providences, Relating to Witchcrafts and Possessions has been published and Salem is a hotbed of activity for paranoid humans and political Drifters. Later, Crossers were killed for staying in Salem to protect the humans from the Cassenders who wanted to kill the whole lot and move on,just as they would do later in Roanke. Tituba is the most famous and was actually a leader in the Crosser party for over one hundred years, and was later “sold” to a new master. To this day Tituba is looked at as a mother to the Crosser party. By then across Europe and North America witchhunts were conducted and the Watchers, a secret society founded by Cotton Mathers’ last wife Lydia George, was founded. Mathers would come under great emotional and financial strain because of Lydia, but would remain in the dark about the Watchers. So, that’s the history lesson that i was given and must say is shorter than Peter’s version.

O and the Coming. That is the time when their ship, i guess you would call it, is coming back for them to take them to their original planet or heaven. Peter tried to explain it to me, but all i can get from it is that it is more like a spirit transcendence not a physical rapture. Anyway, this Coming is the real reason the Cassenders don’t want interbreeding, because they don’t want anyone with even a teaspoon of Drifter in them left behind on this decandent planet. Yeah, i was offended at first too, but they have a point.

“Well, that is some history you guys have.” I said after Peter told me everything.

“Well, this is just one chunk of it and unfortunately, when this part is recounted our time will be in this chunk.” He said, “Now, we need to change your appearance and mine.”

“Why mine? They didn’t really see me.” I am weird about altering myself. I like myself, i mean besides the verbal diahorrea thing.

“Because, until we can get to the Underground if you are recognized both of us are doomed.” Doomed. It was like watching Power Rangers except, there was no promise that the end was good. The burrito in my stomach did an uneasy turn and i got the goosebumps.

“Okay, Erin, let’s do this.” He said,” Why don’t we just cut your hair and dye it and rename you for now. Then, after everything blows over  you can go home.”

“Do you really think that the Watchers will let me go? I mean, i think if they find out who i am then my family and I will never be able to get away. I mean at the very least they will question me, and now i know so much about you  and your kind.” I hated to admit it, but now i was involved alot more than i thought i would be. And so are my family and friends.

Peter looked at me again, and then shook his head, “No. I don’t really think they will.”

“Fine. Let’s alter me and get going.” We got back into my Ol’Aspire, which Peter told me i would have to sell since they would be able to track the plates, and went to Wal-Mart for hair dye.

Once, we got to Wal-Mart, i looked at the dye and saw some really cute blonde highlights that i thought would look AMAZING with my dirty blonde hair, but Peter pulled out some black dye.

“H-to the no, I will look so bad. everyone will be able to remember me because i will look goth. NO.” I said

“This is not a fashion show, Erin, we just need you to look different.” Peter tried to reason.

“Yeah, i’ll look different. So, different that when the Watchers interview people and show your picture they’ll say,’ and he was with someone, she was really gothlooking you know?’ Instead of being like, ‘i don’t think he was with anyone’ because i look so average.” I grabbed the box with blonde highlights and added, “besides if i cut my hair to look black and short then they’ll really be able to spot that a mile off. We’re going with the blonde.”

Yeah, so i know it is absurd to be arguing about hair dye at a time like that.

Anyway, back at the motel I dyed my hair and Peter cut my hair, horribly i might add, to my shoulders which i had to even out. But, I did look different and i felt sad that my old life was gone.

When were done with all that Peter took a pillow and settled on the floor while i took the bed. I laid there for a minute before asking, “Where is the Underground anyway?”

“The desert”

I groaned and rolled over to try and get some sleep.

What If..

•April 21, 2009 • Leave a Comment

We made it to the park in complete silence and i was beginning to feel tired, and cranky. That and my phone was ringing off the hook because i wasn’t at work. They were not going to believe this: I’m sorry, Mrs. Meloni but a hot-notorious-in-denial-felon hijacked me after i accidentally hit him with my car. Yeah, totally convincing.

I looked over from the drivers’ seat as we sat parked. He looked vulnerable and small, i almost felt sad for him. Almost. “What’s your name?” i asked gently, afraid that he would sass me the way i had been sassing him.

“Peter.” he answered, his voice gravelly. He looked as if all the effects of being hit by my Ol’ Aspire suddenly hit him.

“Well, you should start explaining if you want my help.” What? What am i doing?

He looked over at me. Surprise. Green eyes, nice. No, stop. “You’ll help me?”

“It depends on what kind of help you need.” That’s right, create a loophole for yourself. Smart girl, Erin.

“It’s a long story.”

“Well, as long as it’s raining and you’re in my car we’re not going anywhere.”

“Look, over there is a bridge why don’t we park underneath the pass?” I looked over. Yeah, that would be better than staying cramped in little Ol’ Aspire. I turned the car back on and began driving.

“Okay, but the first drug dealer i see we’re leaving for iHop or something.” That twitch again.  Man, this guy needs to either laugh or smile.

Once, we were under the bridge he got out of the car, and i debated my original plan: ditch him once he was out. But, You clothed me when i was naked, and you fed me when i was hungry echoed in my mind. Craaap. I reached over and locked his side of the door and got out on my side with keys firm in grasp. I looked at him over the car and saw relief flash through those greens.

“Thank you.” He said simply. No more explanation, no more words. And for the first time in, O i don’t know how long, i was touched by his gratitude. Simple all-encompassing thank you. I shook my head, this guy is probably conning me.

“What is your story?” I asked too harshly. I knew it was too harshly, but i needed to remind myself that this situation is dangerous. I don’t even know who this Peter is.

“Where should i begin?”

“How about why you were being chased by Agent Smith and Smith.” He shook his head and exhaled.

“Okay. Well, those guys are Watchers, a special task force assigned by a rogue agency to find those like me.”He walked over to the front of the car and leaned on the hood and looked down at his feet.  Then he turned to me, and said nothing. “And what are you?” Curiosity was getting the better of me. He frowned. It looked as if he was arguing something in his head. A twitch, and it didn’t look like he was going to smile or laugh.

“I’m sorry. You should go, thank you for your help. Just get into your little car and forget about this. I’m so sorry. Good bye.” and he began walking towards the park.

“Wait!” I didn’t really know why i shouldn’t let him just go. And i had nothing to really make him stop, but i walked after him. “Wait. I am sure we can notify someone and get you help-”he stopped and looked at me incredulisly.

“You still don’t get it do you? I am wanted by an agency that is more powerful than any ’someone’ you could get a hold of. Besides, it would be too dangerous for you and I am so sorry i pushed you to come here. I was desperate and didn’t know what else to do. But, that is not your problem. I’m going to go and you should too, but your way.”

It’s weird that when you hear about these things on the news, or watch a really cheesy Lifetime movie, you know exactly what you would do. But, the moment it does you don’t really know what your thought process is or decision making paradigm, you just sort of act on autopilot.

“You said they wanted your head back there! Are they going to kill you? Because, if they are going to kill you I can’t just drive away and live my life…”yeah, i hate to admit it, but i am so rambling right now. Peter Felon walked over to me and gently put his hands on my shoulders, “I’lll be alright. Just slow down.” I calmed and took a breath, okay, that’s better.

“What’s your name, little one?” he asked me. The way he said it was so kind and gentle. And it didn’t seem condescending at all.

“Erin” i answered in a small voice. My courage astounds me somtimes.

“Erin, I will be alright. And you will be safe now if you leave me here. If you  help me anymore i can’t guarantee your safety.” He was so calm and rational.

“But, if they are going to kill you I can’t just stand by and do nothing.” It is true, when someone comes bounding, or in my case crashing, into your life you can’t just sit by and watch things happen. You gotta try, you might fail, but you gotta try anyway, because, you know what? You just might succeed if you try hard enough and the good Lord okay’s it.

“Alright. Do you know where the nearest motel is?”

So What If…

•April 17, 2009 • Leave a Comment

As anyone who fancies themselves imaginative or even creative, we posers of creativity, or imitations of a tired process, often create within the context of someone else’s universe. I suppose that is why there is an entire website devoted to being the training wheel to creators (aka Fanfiction.net). But, on my way to work i reflected on the last conversation i had with someone over a cup of coffee. Now, i thought it would be trendy and somewhat “soho,” for those of you who know what i mean, but in all reality it was a conversation of finding a balance. I mean both she and i were speaking however, what was actually said was of little recourse because it didn’t really say anything. Well, there I went off track again. Okay, where was i? O yeah, so i was in my car reflecting about this not trendy coffee conversation. And both she and i agreed that “Twilight” was a fun book, and that girls, women, and pretty much everyone should not take it seriously. Here are some side effects of taking “Twilight” too seriously:

-Speaking dramatically when asking someone for a pencil in class (*so00 did happen to me, i just looked at her like “what is wrong with you?”)

-Doing your hair to look like Kristen Stewart, when your head is shaped like a mango and, the result makes your head look the moon. (* a really good friend of mine has done this-and i don’t know if i should say anything. should i?)

-Walking home from class and you wave to a friend, who quickly freaks out because there a van driving at moderate speed down the road.

-Knowing WAAYY too much about Robert Pattinson, and actually defending his acting. Not that his acting is bad, but if it was so good then you probably don’t need to defend it-he’ll do that.

So, because of these irritating side effects that i have observed in the young adult female population i began wondering what if? A simple hypothetical: what if? This post (and probably the next couple of posts) is dedicated to what if supernatural creatures were simply natural?

It was raining. I usually like rain, but today rain sucked. I had to fill out a graduation card by five and i don’t get off work until forty-five. And then i got stuck out in the rain because, my umbrella mysteriously had gone missing…So, my feet are soggy, my head hurts from trying to mental gymnastics in my chinese class. But, that’s okay. I’ll get into my car and drive to work-and everything is going to work out one way or another. I mean millions of people have faced harder things on a daily basis so, yeah. I got in the car and tugged the hood of my sweatshirt down and wriggled my head, hopeful to get my hair dry. I wish Texas weather was more predictable. But, it isn’t.

I began the usual drive to my work and felt kind of tired, three hours of sleep can do that to you. That and kinda make your cynical, when you don’t mean to be. I turned my mp3 player on and, of course, the completely wrong song comes on. “The Temptations” “My Girl” comes on and i glare out my windsheild. Then, i laugh. What the hey? I mean so today didn’t go the way i wanted it to, but i still have plenty of things going for me: 1) I love Jesus and He loves me 2) i ate today, how many people in the world can say that?….i kept listing the great things about my life out when WHAAMMMM! My car swerved to the left into what in a busy suburb would be on-coming traffic. I slammed the brakes-never a good idea, just fyi-and hit my head on the back of my seat then on the steering wheel. Ow! I yank the parking brake up and get out of the car, i must have hit a dog or something. As i near the front of my car i see a a dude on the ground. O God! I hit someone! I am in soo much trouble, my parents are going to yell from here to high heaven! High heaven, where did that phrase come from? Stop it, Erin, focus on guy on the ground. I poke at him, “Eh, Uh, Sir?” He moans and tries to move. No, O God, please don’t let him die! I get on my knees and turn him over, then i remember that i have my cell in the pocket of my hoodie. “Don’t worry, I am calling an ambulance!” Then, he grabs my hand forcefully, and a breif flash of something happens in thepit of my stomach. Crap, either it is what i had at Burrito King or fear. At this point, i am hoping for Burrito King. “No, don’t call an ambulance. I…I am alright.”

“Shhh” i say, this guy is totally delusional! “It’s alright. You are going to be okay, once they get here you’ll be fixed up in no time.”

“No.” He says sharply and juts up and i see his face, and one word: hot. Man, i would hit the hottest guy. ” Look, i just need your help.”

“To get up?” I ask, “Because, if i help you up i am taking you to the hospital.”

“Look, i am going to be fine. I just need you to be cool.”

“Cool? COOL? Look, psycho, i just hit you with a car and cool doesn’t really apply here.”

“I’m fine. really.” He is getting frustrated, i can tell. I frustrate a lot of people.

“Whatever. Look put your arm over my shoulder and i’ll help you into my car.” He looks at me doubtfully. Okay, yeah so i’m only like 5′1” but, i am stronger than i look. I roll my eyes and say, “Come on, you won’t crush me.”

He puts his arm around my shoulders and leans, okay so i was wrong. This hot dude is a fatty! I am going to die! God! AH! “You okay?” he asks me. I smile and pretend, there is no way i am going to admit that i am not strong enough. “Fine.”

I put him in the back seat of my really super-old beat-up Ford Aspire. Then i begin for the hospital, when like five guys pop out of nowhere. They look like the FBI. Great! I slow down and debate turning around, i don’t want to get in trouble with the law anymore than i have already.

“Don’t!” hot felon yells.

I ignore him. Felons are bad, and bad people lie. “Listen, you don’t want to stop for them.”

“Why not?” I ask as i pull up to them. But, before i can stop hot-felon-guy has put his foot over mine and is gunning the gas. “Crap! Are you crazy?!” he asks me! “No, are you? Are you running from the police? You can have my car, just let me go!” All the words spill out. Brave, yep that’s me. “Shut up! Put it into fourth!” He yells and i calm, okay, we can’t stop yet. I put it into fourth, and surrender, “Where do you want to go?”

“Where do you live?” he asks.

“Heck no! I’m not taking you there. I will take you wherever else you want to go. But, my place is off limits.”

“I have nowhere else to go and those guys are after me.” He says dejectedly. I feel guilty instantly. I am such a people pleaser, but that changes here and now. I will not endanger my roomie.

“Not my problem, perp.” Okay, so i am still not sure why i said that. Maybe too many Hunter reruns or something.

“What?”He asks and turns to me from the passenger seat, and there is light look of incredulity. I freeze, caught! Using bad ’80s cop slang no less. Crap.

“I don’t care what you did, but i am sure that they will go easy on you if you don’t take hostages. Think about it: your life is worth much more than a moment of heated desparation.” Wow, I am something! I am articulate and intelligent, i should be a hostage negotiator.

“Tell me again, why shouldn’t  i kill you?” He asks annoyed. Okay, so hostage negotiator is not in my future.

“Just try it, buster, and i’ll stop this car and let the feds catch up. And i’m not going down without a fight!” That’s right, if am going to die atleast i can be proud of myself.

Silence.

Not good. I must have really hurt him with my Ol’ Ford Aspire, and a flash of guilt streaks through me. Snap out of it! He’s a felon, don’t feel bad. The feds will probably put a metal on you for catching this notorious felon. I look over at the notorious felon and he is staring at me.

“You think i am a wanted criminal?” He asks me and shakes his head.

“Aren’t you? Those guys in the suits must be FBI and they are definately after you.”

“What’s your name?” I was not going to give hot-notorious-felon my name, just in case. Then, i remember something what my roommate from freshmen year’s Grandma told her say in a fight. Yeah, that would have been a lot easier if i had just said Daryle. Anyway, i responded, “What color you want your casket?”

“What?” he asks cocking his head at me. Note to self: Don’t follow someone else’s Grandma’s advice. “Did you just ask me what color i wanted my casket?” there was twitch, and that twitch resembled something of a smile. Great! I am entertaining a felon.

“What’s your name?” I countered. “And what crime did you commit?”

“What? I am not a criminal and those were not the FBI back there.”

“Look, i don’t even want to know. I will drop you off wherever and let you go your merry way. And i am sorry about the whole car thing.” I honestly meant it too.

“I don’t know where to go. You are my safest bet right now, they don’t know you.” What? No. No. I should have just kept going when i hit you, felon!

“No. I can take you to the police, i am sure they can help you. But, that is as far as i go, I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

“Not really.”

Another twitch.

Silence in the car, then a popping sound. I look over to see what hot-felon guy is doing and i see him pop his shoulder back in place. AHHH-MYY-GOD! That is gross, and i am responsible for it!

“I really think we should get to a hospital.”

“No, i told you they’d find me there.”

“Who?”

“I can’t tell you, because then you would be in danger too.”

“Well, it looks like you got me involved anyway now doesn’t it?” I exhaled. That was mean, besides what if he is telling the truth? “Look, if you want my help then i need some answers.”

“Okay, so those guys back there want my head. You see…we are…um…special.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Pull in over there.” He pointed to an exit for the park. I began to change lanes for the exit when i noticed another car changing lanes too. Okay, well we had been on a highway. But, when i pulled onto the exit instead of slowing down the car sped up!

“Uh, Felon, i think one of your buddies is behind us.” I said nervously.

“What?!” He said irritatedly then turned to see the car i was eyeing in my rearview mirrow. “Crap!”

“What should i do?! What should i do?!” I asked frantically. Again, Erin the brave comes out.

“Let’s try to loose ‘em. Quick turn at the light!” I squeezed my eyes shut and turned to the left and listened to my brakes whine. I peeked out of one eye and saw that we had made it. Whew! I looked into the rearview mirror and the dude was gone, man, i am good!…or on-coming traffic promised certain death on him. Whatever, I’ll take it.

“Okay, just keep heading for the park.” He said and with his good armed pointed ahead.

“Why? It’s raining.” I said.

“Because, it’s raining. No one will see us.” he said as if talking to a child.

“Everyone except drug dealers.” I mumbled. It was dusk on an already cloudy day, the park was sure to be full of drug dealers.

“I heard that. And you don’t need to worry about them.”

“O, so you’re a drug dealer!” It all made sense now. He probably came from Mexico and is part white and part Latino, that’s why he’s hot, and came over to make his millions by getting young children hopped up on cake. It was like a puzzle with all the peices finally falling into place. Well, i would drop him off at the park and then speed my way out of the park never to see him again. Yeah, that’s the plan.

“No! What is wrong with you?” He said shaking his head. Apparently, i said my last comment out loud. “I am not a drug dealer. I just don’t think they will be bothering us. that’s all.”

We rode the rest of the way in silence. My silence was silent fear of the drug dealer beside me, while his seemed to be an irritated silence.

Pearl Harbor: the Transition Year

•October 22, 2008 • 1 Comment

So, that movie “Pearl Harbor” was on AMC and i was like, i haven’t seen this in forever. Needless to say, I watched it. As i watched Josh Hartnett stand up in slow-motion while his hawaiian shirt fluttered in the breeze, I remembered just how overdone this movie was. I remembered alot of things as i watched the movie.

Pearl Harbor (2001)

Ben Affleck was considered one of People’s Sexiest Men Alive

Ben Affleck was a major character in a movie where his future wife (Jennifer Garner) was a minor character.

It was before people began meshing the names of people together just because they were dating (i.e. Bennifer, Brangelina, etc..)

You were allowed to accompany your friends, family, anyone up to the boarding gate at the airport and could even carry nail clippers with you!

Leonardo Di Caprio was still skinny

Josh Hartnett was a rising star

I was caught in my first riot at school

Shia LeBouf was Luis Stevens in “Even Stevens”-pre the plasticky Zac Effron and Vanessa Hudgens

“Friends” was still the number 1 sitcom on primetime

Bill Clinton’s statement “it depends on what the defintion of what is is” was the biggest controversy

Chad was the name of my favorite stoner not something that hung from voting ballots

Tom Cruise was married to Nicole Kidman and did not use couches as jungle-gyms(atleast not in public)

Some people still didn’t know who Orlando Bloom was

Heath Ledger belonged with Julia Stiles

Greenday was a band about music not politics

everyone remembered the Titans

The “Texas 7″ caught because of that show “America’s Most Wanted”

and then, of course, September 11th changed almost everything. So, i wasn’t trying to get nostalgic but it just kind of happened so here is a link to probably the dumbest thing on youtube. I think one of the kids barely speaks english so here ju go! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zcbqpABZAVY&feature=related

Shipwrecks are Apropos of Nothing

•October 11, 2008 • Leave a Comment

Stephen Crane once wrote, “Shipwrecks are apropo for nothing.” After my, now infamous, pineapple incident I would replace the word shipwreck with pineapple. Pineapples are apropo for nothing. I don’t eat pineapples and the smell is really kind of sick to me. Yet, this fruit-which everyone I am around seems to like-seems to be everywhere i turn. I wrote down my pineapple incident because it is funny, and a person who read what i wrote came up to me later and asked, “Did that really happen to you?” Unfortunately, yes it did. But, the person who doubted this story, now fascinates me. This person who would ask me for the truth, yet seems confused himself as to what the truth is. The familiar brown that beckons him homeward and even inward, and the blue that dances around him giving him a self he has never seen before, seem to be warring and jarring his insides. Fear reeks before him, what should he do? Whom should he choose? What he once thought he wanted is now being questioned by this new and exotic spirit. Self. He chooses himself, but in this choice he realizes that even in his selfishness he cannot decide where he would be. The chant of being lifted high above the storm pounds his ears; the chance of discovering, the voyage into the unknown sits to his right. Yet, the chant itself is being pounded by his old brown, the warm brown that he has known and was so sure of. Chant, dance, sit, pray, prostrate. He looks up and before him is the cross-not the cross as he has known it: it is not a symbol of sacrifice from the immaculate conception, but dogma and creator. The Brown and the Blue both were created and bow to this cross and as he stares at the cross he sees not Christ or wood but colors. Brown beats and chants in his ears, Blue like ocean dances and stills, Red swirls as he tries to focus on cross.

Chant, Dance, Sit, Pray, Prostrate. Cry, Weep, Die, Mourn, Laugh. More people. More time. The smells of salt and carpet saturate him. Louder and louder yet far off and away. Jerk your head away, make it stop-Who are you-Too much-Too much-Cross-Sweat-Desire-Whom do you choose-Where will you go-Stomp-Stomp-

He looks up and he sees the Holy Mother. Fear not, says she, my son. His eyelids quiver and he wants to blashpheme her to her image. Why had she daughters? They are as pure as she, yet he cannot make out. Light stings his eyes and he is unknown, the chanting is faint, the dance is faint, and even our Mother is faint. Jerks his head. Tears sting his eyes and he knows. And then he hears a word, the queer word that began this all, “Pineapple.” He repeats it as his own chant, but when he sees Brown his mouth shuts at apple and all is “Pine.” He is Pine, not complete. Pine. Brown. Pine Brown. Pinebrown. He looks into the Blue and sees gold, brown, red. He sees the pineapple in her. Where is he?

“There once was a hero blue in a world of brown…”

•July 10, 2008 • Leave a Comment

I promis i will stop but this was too funny not to put on here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5u8d55hP2E8&NR=1 

Bridget Jones fight scene 1

•July 10, 2008 • Leave a Comment

Bridget Jones Fight Scene that is hilarious! God Bless, youtube!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QlhAqFKBEBs

Top 5 fight Scenes from Modern Movies According to Me

•July 10, 2008 • 1 Comment

So, i was thinking about the top 5 fight scenes according to me. After much thought and research:) I have come to the conclusion that my list is the best list!…Ever!

#5 Gladiator: Russell Crowe getting stabbed in the side and still winning, one word: Awesome! I mean, hello, watching Russell Crowe fight Johnny Cash with a pseudo-middle eastern sound in the background is ultimate in dramatics as well as being really well shot. That Jerry Bruckheimer really knows how to get ya! “Are you not entertained?!”

 

#4 Troy: okay, so it goes without saying that both Bradd pitt and Eric Bana spent too much time in the gym proir to shooting-not that anyone is complaining, i know i’m not. But, the end when Brad (it always makes me feel cool calling actors by their first names) is yelling, “HECTOR!” and it takes Eric like a billion hours to get down to him since everyone wants to stop and talk to him, is like everyone waiting at the flagpole after middle school because the captian of the football team and the captain of the basketball team are going to dook/duke(?) it out, and everyone is there because like your friend Helen is with Paris who is cousins with Achilles girlfriend (Briseis) who is also cousins with Hector who helped take Helen who is sisters with Andromanche who is like so in your ancient weaving class in fourth period, and well you have to be there. Then, when it finally comes time to fight you are not disappointed: Brad is flying through the air with a spear and o-so-hot Eric is ducking and rolling and hacking with his sword. Then the ultimate bad-Ace thing to do is take the dead body and drag it through the dirt just to be like, “Shove it!”

#3 The Patriot: So when Mel (who should be here anyway because of Braveheart) is on his knees back turned to that Roth dude ready to be killed, then totally catlikely matrixes it and stabs him with an American flag is soooo cool by itself! But when you add the backstory of that Roth dude killing Mel’s kids throughout the movie you feel so justified by the gore and violence-even though you know it ain’t real. Plus, like how unpatriotic and un-American is it to kill Heath Ledger?! I mean both he and Mel may be Australians but i think that America has adopted him because we pay them millions of dollars-without us they couldn’t eat! And now, let us take a moment of silence to remember Heath Ledger because well, if you don’t know you should really get out more……………………………………………………………………………………………………………Okay, moment passed. But, yeah you get my point with this.

#2 Bridget Jones Diary the edge of Reason: So before you go all agro on me leme esplain. So watching two old English guys kind of catfight to the Darkness “I Believe in a Thing Called Love” is probably the most entertaining thing to watch if you are having a bad day. I mean just watch it and you’ll think to yourself, “Well, at least i don’t look as stupid as that right now.” Unless, of course, you did fight Colin Firth and Hugh Grant and looked that stupid-but highly unlikely. Plus, they are catfighting like stuffy old guys for a fat girl with greasy hair! I mean both romantic and funny and violent-what could be better than that?

#1 the movie you all have been waiting for…suspense…know you are skipping over to read what it is…300! Okay, now the hard part was picking which fight scene. Now, i originally wasn’t going to go with this one but the more i thought about it the more i was like-yeah, manpanties notwithstanding, the movie kicks some serious tail! So, when Gerard Butler’s wife-who was pretty much brutalized by creepy eyebrow guy who is still kind of cute so i think i need counseling-stabs him after he mouths off and repeats the words he used when he raped her was like, “AWWw she didn’t!” I mean “This will not be over quickly, you will not enjoy this, and I am not your queen” was so cool I was like, get it girl! But, overall you could go with so many different scenes from this movie and still be like yeah it has to be #1.

Honorable Mentions that probably should be on my list but weren’t:

Mr and Mrs Smith: when future lovers Bradd and Angelina beat the poo out of each other and still kiss and make up, again, and again, and again. lol

Enough: J-lo kicks the life out of her bad husband, the ultimate lifetime movie.

Braveheart: enough said

*okay, i have to say something. It is the essential epic movie that defined all fight scenes/battle scenes that followed. It invented war movies and an entire genre of male thought that is now manifested on a channel called Spike.

13th warrios: “today was a good day!” right as the one blonde guy dies, that is the defintion of a bad A@% right there.

Diehard with the vegenance: when Bruce is fighting that guy that plays Scar in the lion king. That is so yippis-kiyay-motherfletchers!

Well, i prob left out some true classics but i am not E! so, just write your own and then i get to read yours! see it will be the best of everything!

My Rock

•June 24, 2008 • Leave a Comment

There’s a rock on my foot

it bites me

digs me

will it rub into a pearl?

 

I walk,

it’s there,

it hurts,

will it rub into a pearl?

 

I ran across cemetery

saw Strange rock on head

what does it bite?

Will it rub into a pearl?

 

Faces, colorful faces,

laughing, holding pitiful

the rock, rock is heavy,

will it rub into a pearl?

 

Faces, ugly faces,

clutching my rock,

they won’t give it back

will it rub into a pearl?

 

I run,

ugly faces hoard my rock,

it bites me harder

will it rub into a pearl?

 

a cry in the sun,

fat faces,

my rock flies and weighs,

will it rub into a pearl?

 

Fat, colorful, ugly,

I surrender

they need my rock

will it rub into a pearl?

 

Will the biting, digging, flying, crying, clutching, hoarding,

pitiful, ugly, colorful,

cry surrendered rub into a Strange pearl on my foot?

I think not, let me be in cemetery.