Dirty Sexy

Love me some dirty sexy bad men, or just those appearing to have it on the outside.

What is it about a man, a bad guy in a movie that can make you want him to beat the system.
I just went and saw 'The Town' with my Mermaid and left with my creative juices flowing and excited to write. To write something dirty, sexy and gritty. Like the movie. An idea I had years ago about a woman in the Irish Republican Army... it all just clicked and made sense suddenly out of nowhere and I was consumed by getting the gist of it down. So today's will be short and sweet.
"A good bad man is just sexy. Like my fro-yo red velvet cake with twix pieces on the top and droplets of chocolate sauce."
Mermaid and I have started a little ritual, getting ourselves a fro-yo and eating it while walking and talking and when finished head to the movie. 

"The house you lived in when you were seven.”

Ten minute writing exercise- via- Writer Afoot
"The house you lived in when you were seven."

I’m lying on the living room floor on long thick lime green shag carpet in front of the black and white television. It's back in the day when you had to move to change the channel, of which there is only three. It sits on a metal stand and to the right of me is the front window very large. My strongest memory of that window is the plants my Mom had in it and the big one in the middle that hung from the ceiling. It was macrame, and I cannot remember if she made it, but I do remember being embarrassed by it. Now I look back and wonder why? Why was I embarrassed about this, at the time I thought it was ugly, now having lived a slight hippie lifestyle it would be antique and cool. One of the strongest memories I have of that living room, is lying on this carpet watching the television and the neighbor’s daughter knocking and coming in so upset that Elvis had died.

The house had three bedrooms and sat atop of Scootney hill in Othello. Some winters when it was a bad winter, a car would take the corner to fast and end up in our yard. So my Dad put in some railroad ties and rocks. One summer he planted rutabaga and it seemed liked forever we were digging and getting rid of it. We had a above ground pool in the backyard one summer and ran around all over the neighborhood terrorizing, having fun. A time in history when kids were allowed to roam free through town unattended. 

In the bedroom my sister and I shared we had bunkbeds with matching blankets with our names on it. They had lime green trim, and matched the carpet. Later when we moved to the country my friend Michelle moved into this house and my memories of her in that room tie in with my own sometimes so that I can’t remember whose it was at the time. For instance Patrick Duffy of Dallas pin-up on the wall where all us bluebird and campfire girls took turns making out with him pinned to the wall by the door. The more I recall this memory it’s her time in it and not mine. 

Friday Night Lights

#61

Last week at the game it rained steadily. We planned ahead and brought an umbrella and grabbed a bright pink towel I use for my Grandpa's dog out of the back seat of my truck. It worked well for the first half of the game, at halftime we wanted to smoke. (Secret guilty pleasure of smoking on school grounds, just to buck the system and the righteous.) We pondered for long moments on whether to leave the comfort of this spot, but looking down at the towel turned a darker pink from the encroaching incessant rain. We decided dry asses were going fast at this rate anyway, but on the other hand if we left ..the seats would get soaked. Solution: On return from smoke, stand at sidelines to watch the game.

This worked well and better than planned #61 was placed promptly in the game as the threat of Mother on the sidelines passed down the line of boys and men dressed in tights.

And true friend standing in the driving rain alongside me and who provided the fabulously large umbrella also believed that once #61 was placed in the game, the game changed for the team and if we had more time he could have won the game with sheer magnetism. He did get a great tackle that was announced over the loud speaker, much to his Mothers delight. She also then texted his girlfriend to share said delight. (More on this later.)

Also the announcer say's "Goats score," friend and I glance at each other..."Did they really just say that"....goats? ghosts?" Who names there team the goats? Not very manly, which could lead me off on a tangent complaining about pansies and their whining about "PC" which is asinine period, people need to toughen the hell up.

Alas, #61's magnetism was not enough to win the game but after his presence our team made a solid comeback of three touchdowns.... bringing a total score of the game to 42-21. At halftime score was 42-6. Just saying could have been my kid making the difference.

September 24th

Today's weather seems more promising, I hope that as I head to the mountains it keeps the promise. I'm meeting my sister at the game as well as picking up #61's girlfriend and I'm excited to see all. Sisters entourage; my niece, and her significant other along with his nephew. (No, that does not make him my nephew necessarily, it is his sisters child, but I like him.) They will be following me home into the desert, to attend the WSU game tomorrow.

I love football. It is another sign that Fall has arrived. Go Warriors and #61 half my heart.

I arrive into town, and favor oddly enough, the public restroom... in the oddest location on the main drag into town for changing into comfortable game attire. Sassy red headed friend not at other favored location for such shenanigans aka the liquor store.This restroom and I have a history that is good and kind. It's easy access and cleanliness at all times of the night and early morning always a welcomed sight. Moving on....

On a hunch I call from my cell phone; my other half of my heart "Mickey Blue Eye's" He is working at the hamburger joint up the road and I invite myself to dinner. I drop him some bling and he makes me dinner. Then I head back down the mountain trail, checking for signs of autumn for description in my novel I'm writing in my spare time. Shocked to find autumn colors are not really happening yet, even this late in September. Note to self...

Pick up #61's cute girlfriend and she was so excited to be going to this week's game (grounded last week). (I'm jealous she is wearing Jersey of #61.) I ask sweetly if she got it by sleeping with him. We laugh together and she tells me proudly that she is now on birth control. I remind her to not give up current birth control till the other has time to stick. Do they not tell kids this stuff when getting on it...1). That it takes a cycle or two for it to kick in for full proof avoidance of grandparenthood. 2). That any antibiotic could cause a reversal of it's effectiveness.

I digress, however number one worry is... grandparenthood anytime in the next ten years. I can still bear my own children for heavens sake. Girlfriend says her excitement about #61 getting a tackle and an announcement on loud speaker was dashed by #61 saying "They do that for everyone." I agree with her that it is special, and always better than a bad comment. We arrive at game with a wool blanket from my Mom's backseat and select our seats. Another note to self: wool blanket keeps ass nice and cozy compared to towel whether it is raining or not. Ex-husband and buddy arrive and we proceed to have a very nice time. (Other secret pleasure of smuggling in small amounts of alcohol achieved, this year he impresses me by bringing it and breaking the rule rather than the other way around.)

19-0 not in our favor starting the second quarter and once again the magnetism of #61 this time brought in earlier (due to the decibel of his cheering section, perhaps?) changes the game and at halftime we are ahead 26-19.

Favorite and only little sister arrives. She is knocked up and must skip illegal beverages, but we enjoy game very much and hanging with #61 in parking lot after the game. Give #61 some bling similar to bling given to older brother "Mickey Blue Eyes".

The final score is 54-39 our win of course.

Mickey Blue Eyes

October 23rd

The triangle; Mermaid-Spanish Princess and Ballerina roadtripped to the Mountains last night as the sun set in the western sky to catch the last half of the game. Exiting the car to the scents of pine and fall football.
It was not a big scoring game and we won by the skin of our teeth 21-20, leading us into the divisional playoffs next week against Zillah. #61 did not play much due to it being Senior day.

Skin of our teeth, Skin of my teeth.... such a strange phrase decided to go check out its origins.

Meaning

Narrowly; barely. Usually used in regard to a narrow escape from a disaster.

Origin

The phrase first appears in English in the Geneva Bible, 1560, in Job 19:20, which provides a literal translation of the original Hebrew:

"I haue escaped with the skinne of my tethe."

Teeth don't have skin, of course, so the writer may have been alluding to the teeth's surface or simply to a notional minute measure - something that might now be referred to, with less poetic imagery than the biblical version, as 'as small as the hairs on a gnat's bollock'. 

At the game we enjoyed smuggled nips of Baileys with cocoa or coffee. After the game making a short jaunt  to a Halloween party in South Cle Elum where we had some Rolling Rock and picked up True Friend, who was dressed in a Halloween costume that looked quite sexy on her. Shortly moving on to the gauntlet so that we could hit the Brick and Marko's. The Brick had some good Irish music. We headed up the street of memories to Marko's, finding Atley bar tending, he made us a pizza and told us the story of him finding love.... and it must be if he is moving out of Roslyn for two years to be with her.

After the witching hour heading back to true friends pad set below the dark towering pines of the ridge for some quick shut eye. In the morning the autumn colors were invigorating and Mermaid and I took a short jaunt down the road while waiting for our Spanish Princess to get ready. Gathering up #61 and Mickey Blue Eyes for some grubbing breakfast at The Sunset. Window shopped a tad and stopped into see sassy red head at favorite liquor store and headed back to Rotown to my house to hunt down Cleopatra. Adding a quick left for a sashay through the Cemeteries before heading to the sagelands. 

Mermaid, Spanish Princess, Ballerina and True Friend at Marko's.

Fall Films

Fall Films

Memories tend to make us what we are. We don’t always reflect back on a whole life but snippets of film in it, for moments that turn a memory on. It’s the little things that come back to you while you are doing some random time filler that catch your attention. I have been reflecting this first full day of fall, on a failed marriage and how the memories are triggered by light, sounds and seasons. The fights in the marriage as well as the happy moments invoked by a word, conversation or a mere feeling. 

It is early fall and the light is filled with the hues of pumpkins, apples and wheat. Those annoying swarms of gnats are in groups hovering in the early afternoon air. I have taken the wet laundry out of the washer and come out on my back deck stepping down onto the grass crossing the yard to hang the laundry on my clothesline. The clothesline came with the house when we bought it, and it was built to last. Made of pipe in towering 'T's and painted the same green to match and blend with the surrounding pine trees and their needles that dot the entire yard. Our backyard backs up to the forest and the sounds of my youngest son and his best friend playing happily in his fort, the forest and just now running through the yard past me in costumes. Their backpacks hanging onto their small shoulders, are filled with weapons. Involved so deeply in their world of make believe they don’t even see me hanging the clothes on the line. I have a dryer, but this simple chore of carrying my basket on my hip to the clothesline and pinning the pieces up to dry in the air enriched with the scents of pine, rose hips and ripened oriental plums feels me with a peace that I find rare more and more of late. 

I stop, and just revel for moments in that peace, turning my face to the sun feeling it warm my skin, closing my eyes in bliss and inhaling deeply. Knowing by feeling the sun on my head that it is picking up highlights in my hair that could be making me glow as a fall color all on my own, if someone was to be watching me in this light. It's right at this moment that I think to myself that I'm happy in this simple moment and I wish that I could bottle this feeling of utter peace and happiness.

This memory of happiness is so pure I can remember it like a movie in my head even though it has been ten years since this day. Shortly after this, things started falling apart for us and when I was restless I would try to capture the feeling of the day and how I had found it. Pure happiness can be elusive, maybe that is why this memory is so clear to me and as I still fight the restlessness even now, wishing that moment could be found in my collection of  perfume decanters, dabbed on my wrist or neck infusing myself with feeling.