The Red Robe

I actually wrote this a long time ago, but couldn't decide if I wanted to post it or now.

Too cheesy?

Allison slipped the red robe off of her shoulders. It seemed prophetic somehow, against the white tiles of her bathroom. She turned the water in the shower as hot as it would go, slowly taking an inventory of the damage. Her shoulder was slightly sore, but the inside of her thigh was black from the kicks she’d taken.

She wiped the steam from the mirror, cringing as the muscles tightened. A gash over one eye and a split lip.

It could’ve been worse.

She slipped the band from her braided hair and shook it out. She’d been so exhausted that she hadn’t bothered to take it down last night, and now the normally soft and flowing locks looked like a rats nest. She pulled a brush through it, making sure to remove the tangles and stepped into the shower. She couldn’t do anything but stand there, letting the water wash over her, remembering the fight she’d had with Owen last night. She didn’t know what had hurt her more, the bruises or the words he’d said. Still, she couldn’t imagine life without him. It had been so good in the beginning.

Maybe he was right. Maybe she wasn’t good enough.

Maybe she was crazy for thinking she could do something more with her life, for thinking that she could be something more…something better.

When she finished, she slipped the robe back on and shuffled to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

For a long moment, she focused on the steam rising up from her cup of coffee, until the doorbell rang.

She knew it would be him and wasn’t sure she should open the door.

But of course she did.

As he stood there, she tried to decide how she should defend herself. Would she finally give him an ultimatum, or would she still be too afraid to lose him?

He pushed his way through the door, grabbing her by the shoulders. His face contorted in pain as he took in the gash over her eye. “I’m so sorry,” he said.

“I’m fine.”

“Hey,” he said, gently taking her chin and turning it for inspection. “It’s over. You don’t have to pretend to be strong anymore. I’m still here.”

She desperately wanted not to cry. But she felt the pressure in her chest building, and when she felt the first tear sliding down her cheek, she leaned into him and let him comfort her.

He whispered things in her ear, things that were easy to believe, only because he was the one saying them.

He walked her to the couch, slipping off his shoes and allowing her to sit with her head on his shoulder. His arm was heavy across her sore shoulders but she didn’t mind. For a long time, they just sat together.

Finally, she said. “Owen, I’m not pretending. I am strong.”

He tugged her a little closer, a supportive squeeze on her arm, but he didn’t say anything.

“I want to do this, Owen. It makes me feel alive. I’ve never felt so alive as when I’m fighting. I’m going to do this, with or without you. I need your support, and if I can’t have that, I can’t be with you anymore.”

“Last year, you would never have said that to me.”

“I know.”

He looked down at her, his fingers skimming along the gash over her eye. “I didn’t understand why in the hell you’d want to take a chance on ruining that beautiful face of yours.”

He kissed her temple, his thumb brushing tentatively over her split lip. “But I’m starting to get it. I couldn’t stand not being there last night, so I went. I watched, and you’re right. I’ve never seen you so alive. Plus, you looked incredibly hot in those little shorts.”

She punched him playfully in the ribs.

“Allison, I love you. And I’ll always be in your corner.”

“Really?”

“Really,” He said with a smile.

“Good. Because I have to be at the gym in an hour, and I need a sparring partner.”

“That’s not funny.”

Allison laughed, taking his hand, thankful they had an hour before practice.

Idiot Jed, Glutton for Punishment

Spiders don’t scare me. Snakes can slither around my arm and I wouldn’t flinch, Home alone in the dark… no problem. But there are a few things that terrify me. Clowns, for instance.  

I watched Poltergeist as a kid, and sure, the stuffed clown grinning madly, rocking away in his rocking chair as “his kid” was tormented by an unseen force gave me the wiggins… Tim curry dressed in clown makeup telling cute little Georgie “we all float down here” from a storm drain still makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck, but it wasn’t until middle school when I started researching serial killers that I was absolutely done with clowns. John Wayne Gacy was real, people… Not just the figment of someone’s delightfully disturbed mind. Now every time I see a clown, I turn into a 5 year old: cringing, whimpering, and sometimes crying. I hide behind a blanket, cover my eyes, sink down in my seat, as if is any of these are valid survival tactics. 

Last year at the haunted house, full of clowns, it took me longer than it should have to get through because I was either cowering in the corner, or shoving my brother in law (who was deliberately going slower just to torment me ) out of the way so I could run.  

This was still less terrifying than public speaking. Just the thought of standing in front of a room full of people where I have to be the center of attention makes me nauseas. And a little sweaty.  

But speaking??? I’d rather be forced to go back through that haunted house every day for a year than stand up and talk for an hour. And hour, hell, I’d rather go back through that haunted house every day for a year than speak for 10 minutes! 

So naturally, teaching is an appropriate career plan, right? 

I’ve been fine with that choice so far. Sitting behind my computer at 5 in the morning, or midnight depending on which night you find me… was fine. Theories and methods, writing about teaching, talking about teaching hasn’t bothered me in the least. But, last week I turned in my application for student teaching, which means Shit just got real! 

I’ve been nauseas since I turned it in. I’ll probably spend the next 3 months in a constant state of panic. Right now, I’m wondering what the hell I was thinking.  

Just call me Idiot Jed, glutton for punishment (random buffy reference) 

But I chose this path because I’m tired of being afraid. I’ve wasted so many years saying I can’t do this because:  

So, I’m going to start doing things because I can. Because deep down, under this gut wrenching fear of failure, I know… I really do… that I ‘m pretty kickass.  

I believe that I’ll be a great teacher, that I can genuinely help students be better readers, better writers. I know that fear can only be conquered when it is faced. I know that eventually getting up in front of people will be a cake walk. Eventually, public speaking and I will be good friends. I’m going to be ok with it.  

But I will never be ok with clowns.

Tabula Rasa

I wrote tonight.

Something that I didn't have to turn in for class.

IT WAS AWESOME!!!

I love feeling this way. Why did I ever let other things get in the way of this feeling?

Not only did I write tonight, but I also went back and read something that I had written a few months ago to try to get my bearings. See where I was at... and I felt myself getting sucked in to the story. I couldn't stop reading it. Not because I was trying to see how many things were wrong with it or how much I was going to have to correct later.

I got sucked into the chapter I had written because it was...it was... it was GOOD!

I've made it a point to try to make mondays about motivation. (Good way to start the week,eh?) And there is nothing like reading something that you've written to remind you why you write in the first place.

So this weeks motivation is all about Tabula Rasa.

I'm adding the definition for those of you who do not know (And YES, because I'm just THAT nerdy!)

1

: the mind in its hypothetical primary blank or empty state before receiving outside impressions

2

: something existing in its original pristine state

Origin of TABULA RASA

Latin, smoothed or erased tablet

First Known Use: 1535

I'm thankful that each new day is a brand new "clean slate." I don't have to dwell on the mistakes and failures of the past, but instead can look forward to new growth and new oppurtunities...new ways to fail miserably and new ways to suceed exponentially!

Let tomorrow be the start of a grand new adventure!

Tuesday Twosome

I'm reading Diana Gabaldon's Drums of Autumn. This series is taken me forever to read, I do realize. But to be fair, its not because its boring. I love the books or I wouldn't be reading them a second time. But each book is over 1,000 pages long, and they are not "easy" reads. Plus I've slipped a few other books, including school, a few nonfiction, and I read the hunger games series over a course of 4 days.

Anyway, here are the two lines from Drums of Autumn:

She's said she was sure.

Roger lay in the dust of the road, bruised, filthy, and starving, with a womantrembling and weepingagainst his chest, now and then giving him a smallthump with her fist. He had never felt happier in his life.

I sadly have not written anything this week. I am playing with the idea of entering a contest for a short story that I've kept hidden away. No one's read it but me. I love the story but it needs a little bit of work. But we shall see.

I'm not posting on there today since I didn't have lines to contribute, but head over to http://womenofmystery.net for more Tuesday Twosomes....

Motivation Monday

May you have the hindsight to know where you've been the foresight to know
where you're going and the insight to know when you're going too far.

Motivation Monday

We are what we repeatedly do.
Excellence, therefore, is not an act but a habit. ~Aristotle

I love to read quotes. Sometimes quotes really make me think, or really motivate me to do better than I have been doing. Lately, the ideas in my little pea brain have been more than a little lacking. After school and dealing with 3 kids now (I am babysitting) cleaning house and working full time, I don't have much left in the tank. Its pretty much Fire Bad. Tree pretty., in the thinking department. But I have been brainstorming ways to add content to my blog.

I like the idea of motivation monday. Every one needs a boost to get you going during the week, to remind you to stay on track and stay strong. So, for this monday I posted this quote. I found it appropriate, since writing for me has been rather daunting.

So, I post this for myself, but also for anyone else who needs a little extra motivation. Feel free to take what you need, and maybe send a little love my way and let me know what motivates you!

Suzy Homemaker Kicked My Ass Today.

Ya know, usually, I think really hard at night about how my day is going to go when I wake up the next morning. Seldom, if ever, do I actually follow through with the plan I painstakingly set out the night before. Today, I totally jumped the shark. First of all, doughnuts have suddenly become like kid crack to my kids. Every morning, they ask for doughnuts. This morning was no exception. I was all ready to walk out the door and go grab a few doughnut holes, when I realized that my husband had taken my car, because his gas guzzling truck was on empty, and we've been running a little low on cash lately. So I get a bright idea. Second: My bright ideas are ingenius, magnificent, perfect plans for the perfect day, in my head. but somewhere between the idea and the followthrough something (I would say 98% of the time) goes horribly, horribly wrong. Third: when it comes to cooking, I am the bomb at opening a can of soup! Boiling water for some ramen noddles, I rock. Throwing a corndog in the microwave, I'm awesome at that. But making homemade doughnuts... not so much. I threw the first batch away. These are my award winning homemade from scratch doughnut holes:

Look delish, don't they?







This is the reult of letting my kids help:

So its 12:30, I've spent all morning trying to make doughnuts, have fixed nothing for lunch and my house is 3 times as dirty as when I started off this morning!

Suzy Homemaker:1

Me: nada...