reasons why my postings are so randomly... posted

1. At home I work on a Mac. Mac and Blog Boy are like little kids who like to play but don't like to share. Blog Boy is always demanding cookies and Mac is always hiding them. Then Blog Boy whines and cries until Mac grudgingly gives him a cookie 'cause the Hyena told him he better or else! I like Mac and I like Blog Boy, but I don't like them so much together.

2. I'm taking Master level classes with fabulous teachers who believe I should be either reading or writing every moment I'm awake... and sometimes when I'm asleep too.

3. I work at Kate the Great's Book Emporium... and yes, that was a shameless plug.

4. I teach seventh graders.

5. I'm currently directing a brand spankin' new play called, Dragon. I have a wonderful cast and the playwright is wonderful. It'll be going up in April at Kate the Great's Book Emporium. (Shameless, I tell you!)
6. This weekend my house was invaded by La Fraternitie Du Loup-Garou. Due to unexplainable complications, one of them stayed for... well, he still hasn't left yet!

7. I'm currently involved in a long distance romance. It's going well and it's exciting in a weird way. Lots and lots of letter writing...

8. To help pay the rent, I am the housekeeper. Lately I've been so busy with so many other things that I've been a very bad housekeeper and you know what they do to bad housekeepers, don't you? (I wish! Actually, I just end up paying more of my rent.)

9. My hertero-sexual life partner and I need to spend some quality time together... Someday we will.

10. I get distracted... look, shiny!

There's more, but I figure 10's a good number to stop at. Besides I've got all this stuff that needs doing....

too true... ;>

hyena9 -- [adjective]: Pretentiously academian 'How" will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Sex Ed Cow!!

How could I not dig a guy who has this tattoo?

Transplant

The bleeps and blips that I always associate with hospitals are what first register for me. My Mom is later convinced that I first responded to her voice, but really, it was those sounds that truly brought me back.

“Vivian - should I be calling her... I mean, by name?” Without opening my eyes, I can feel the lines of worry pulling across my mother’s brow. Her large green eyes are even wider and her mouth is a taut little thread as her head twists away from me. The machines punctuates the slight silence with a beep and an in-out whoosh of air.

A deep voice I quickly surmise to be that of my physician’s, answers her. “Well, Mrs. Yansey, we’re in uncharted territory here. Even though all previous research done in this field has indicated that it is the organ and not the host in which the defining characteristics lie, it might be simpler to address the patient with terms of endearment until we know for sure.”

I can feel my mother nodding as her chair squeaks and she turns back to me lying on the bed. The air whooshes and the monitor beeps. My mind swirls at the doctor’s words, “uncharted territory”. Falling out of consciousness, behind my eyelids the words, “here there be dragons,” dance over a dark map of my body.

* * *

“And how are we today?” The singsongy voice comes from a large woman with arms like sides of beef, and a face that reminds me of my first girlfriend but with blue eyes that are further apart and with a more angled, aristocratic nose than Sheila had. Because she reminds me of Sheila, I decide not to let the fact that she used that condescending “we” bother me. I try to smile, but my face won’t cooperate and nothing but a stream of watery air sounds emit from my throat. Not-Sheila just keeps talking as if I had answered her question with a coherent, ‘we’re fine today, thank you. And how are you on this fine morning?’ She tells me all about her drive in to work as she pulls open the curtains. While stripping my bed, she moves me around as if I weigh less than a laptop, and tells me how her boyfriend kept her up until the wee hours of the morning with his insistence that they watch the movie he brought home, though she has no idea what the movie was about since they barely even watched it. “If you know what I mean.” She says with an exaggerated wink, tucking me firmly back into bed and checking other things I can’t quite see further down the bed. “Then when I get here, I find out that they’ve changed my shift around. It’s usually no big deal, but since Paco kept me up so late, I don’t know if I’m comin’ or goin’.” At this she pauses, places her hands on her hips, and surveys her work. “Well now, it looks as if we’re all done here. Thanks for listenin’ to my ramblin’s, sweetie. I better figure out where I’m off to next.” With that, she laughs and swings her large hips through the door.

Alone, I try to lift my hands, but instead feel myself sucked back into sleep.

* * *

I keep hearing snatches of a conversation, though I’m no longer sure if I’m awake or sleeping.

“She said her eyes were opened when she came in the room!”

“Why wasn’t this reported right away?”

“Who’s in charge of this floor?”

“She’s to be monitored at all times!”

“Please, just tell us, what’s happening?” The last voice is my Father’s. He sounds even more exhausted than my mother had. I want to tell him I’m all right, just very, very sleepy. But my mouth won’t work and soon the words blur around me.

The next voice I hear is that of my sister Olga. But not Olga as she has been these last several years, Olga as she was before the accident. I know I’m dreaming, yet her words resonate inside me.
“What are you doing here?”
It takes me a moment to figure out how to respond. But then I remember, it has to be a dream and it’s as easy as thinking. “I don’t know. It seems like I was in some sort of accident that landed me in the hospital and...”

“No stupid.” Her words are harsh, belittling as she often was when we were kids. “What are you doing HERE? Why are you in my body?”

A shock goes through me. The beeping I had tuned out, comes into my head, louder than ever. Erratic at first, then falling into its soothing pattern.

“We almost lost her.” My doctor’s voice is shallow, shaking. I can smell his perspiration, droplets of sweat on a face I have never seen. “The body was in the first stages of rejecting the intruder organ. It’s lucky we were here. Now do you see why she must be monitored at all times?”

“Yes doctor.” The voice is muffled, almost inaudible.

“Well, nousefocusingonthepast...” His words run together, then fade out completely.

I want my Mommy.


(This is very rough and unfinished. The inspiration was from a dream in which I woke up in my sister's body because I had been in some sort of accident. My body was completely mangeled but my brain was intact, so they transplanted my brain into her body. It was incredibly creepy.)

Blame the Assassin Chick

Oh that Quick! She inspires such amazing frivolity of life. And I thank her. ;> Life is too often taken too seriously when it's really just so goddamn funny!

Your Birthdate: November 7

You are an island. (Wow, I'm HUGE!!!) You don't need anyone else to make you happy. (Self-lovin', that's what it's all about! Though sometimes it's nice to have a big... thick... sandwich.) And though you see yourself as a loner, people are drawn to you. (Though no one's sure why.) Deep and sensitive, you tend to impress others with your insights. (Impress.... That's not the word that's usually used, but what the hell.) You also tend to be psychic - so listen to that inner voice! (Finally, an explanation for all those voices! Maybe that's why I don't need anybody, too many voices already.) Your strength: Your self sufficiency (Fuckin' loner.) Your weakness: You despise authority (Not sure I completely agree with that one... Who do they think they are, some sort of authority on this??) Your power color: Maroon (I love 'oo' woords!) Your power symbol: Hammer (HELL YEAH! it's a tool and a weapon... how could I go wrong?) Your power month: July (Why July? I must investigate this further...)

What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

Enough silly distraction!!! This weekend I WILL post a story sketch... and I'll like it, damnit!