The theme of these years True Fourth Of July can be summed up in one word…IMPEACHMENT.
It is The considered opinion of this author, that it is more than a little likely that within a generation or two, the United States will cease to be a recognizable democracy. So deep are the divisions of race and class and religion, so single minded our double-headed foreign policy towards oil and Israel, so obsessed with security and the false Piety of spreading democracy, so unyielding our war posture towards the world in general and the middle east in particular, that before the middle of this century, unless there is some great change in our collective thinking, the united states will collapse as a democratic society from the weight of imperial ambitions abroad and deep divisions at home.
And while you may say that the end of America has been foretold before,
it is none the less true that America will know her demise more likely from within than without through the doctrines of hatred and disrespect
which undergurd American attitudes to the “outsider” and those who are different.
One of the defining areas of the American experience from which we can scheme clues to our impending future is quantonimo Bay.
Quantonimo Bay
The very emblem of our nation disgrace, gitmo as it has reach to be know
has been denounced by legal scholars, civil rights activist, clergymen,
Our European allies, protestors around the globe and ordinary citizens here in the US.
Bearing all the marks of an illegal gulag and legal black hole, the gitmo facility is the product of small minded, arrogant men who felt them selves to be above the law. Worse, the Bush Administration felt that the special circumstances of 9/11 were a golden opportunity to thumb their noses at civil society and the rule of law.
The truth is the rule of international law extends everywhere, to secret prisons, to gitmo and to the oval office.
The June30th 2006 decision by the supreme court in opposition to the presidents Use of special rules for military tribunals is a blow against the creeping fascism of the Bush administration, even so the tribunals and quantonimo with their complete disregard for international law are but symptoms of a larger malady.
That is that the Bush administration is by all definitions of the word a Fascist Government, born from the vote like the fascism of the nazis and as much a creeping dictatorship as any government in 1930′s Italy or Spain.
If you contemplate the word fascism is too strong, then assume these tell fable signs of a fascist government. Watch if you recognize any of these points in America today!
As described by Dr. Lawrence Britt the fascist regimes of Hitler (Germany), Mussolini (Italy), Franco (Spain), Suharto (Indonesia) and several Latin American regimes. Britt found 14-defining characteristics
common to each:
1.Powerful and Continuing Nationalism – Fascist regimes tend to produce constant utilize of patriotic mottos, slogans,
symbols, songs, and other paraphernalia. Flags are seen everywhere, as are flag symbols on clothing and in public displays.
2. Disdain for the Recognition of Human Rights – Because of fear of enemies and the need for security, the people in fascist regimes are persuaded that human rights can be ignored in certain cases because of “need.” The people tend to look the other way or even approve of torture, summary executions, assassinations, long incarcerations of prisoners including American citizens, etc.
3. Identification of Enemies/Scapegoats as a Unifying Cause – The people are rallied into a unifying patriotic frenzy over the need to eliminate a perceived common threat or foe: racial, ethnic or religious minorities; liberals; communists; socialists, terrorists, Jews, Blacks, Homosexuals etc.
4. Supremacy of the Military – Even when there are widespread domestic problems, the military is given
a disproportionate amount of government funding, and the domestic agenda is neglected. Soldiers and military service are glamorized.
5. Rampant Sexism – The governments of fascist nations tend to be almost exclusively male-dominated. Under fascist regimes, traditional gender roles are made more rigid. Divorce, abortion and homosexuality are suppressed and the state is represented as the ultimate guardian of the family institution.
6. Controlled Mass Media – Sometimes the government directly controls the media, but in other cases the media is indirectly controlled by government regulation or sympathetic media spokespeople and executives. Censorship, especially in wartime, is very common.
7. Obsession with National Security – Awe is used as a motivational tool by the government over the masses.
8. Religion and Government are intertwined – Governments in fascist nations tend to use the most common religion in the nation as a tool to manipulate public opinion. Religious rhetoric and terminology is common from government leaders, even when the major tenets of the religion are diametrically opposed to the government’s policies or actions.
“It is the responsibility of…every evangelical Christian …to get serious about re-electing President Bush.” Jerry Falwell, The New York Times, July 16, 2004
9. Corporate Power is Protected – The industrial and business aristocracy of a fascist nation often is the ones who put the government leaders into power, creating a mutually
salubrious business/government relationship and power elite.
10. Labor Power is suppressed – Because the organizing power of labor is the only real threat to a fascist government, labor unions are either eliminated entirely, or are
severely suppressed.
11. Disdain for Intellectuals and the Arts – Fascist nations tend to promote and tolerate open hostility to higher education, and academia. It is not uncommon for professors and other academics to be censored or even arrested. Free expression in the arts and letters is openly attacked.
12. Obsession with Crime and Punishment – Under fascist regimes, the police are given almost limitless power to enforce laws. The people are often willing to overlook police abuses and even forego civil liberties in the name of patriotism. There is often a national police force with virtually unlimited power in fascist
nations.
13. Rampant Cronyism and Corruption – Fascist regimes almost always are governed by groups of friends and associates who appoint each other to government positions. They use governmental power and authority to protect their friends from accountability. It is not uncommon in fascist regimes for national resources and even treasures to be appropriated or even outright stolen
by government leaders.
14. Fraudulent Elections – Sometimes elections in fascist nations are a complete sham. Other times
elections are manipulated by smear campaigns against or even assassination of opposition candidates, exercise of legislation to control voting numbers or political district boundaries, and manipulation of the media. Fascist nations also typically use their judiciaries to manipulate or control elections.
As of January 2004, the United States fulfills all fourteen points of fascism. But we’re not alone. Russia and Israel also fulfills all fourteen points as well. Welcome to the new republic, redefined, revised and spun.
As a result of the continuing divisions in America, America is more divided than it was on the eve of the civil war. At that moment, the United States stood at the fulcrum of history, at a point of transition from a slave holding nation to a nation more free, A time of
hope if you like.
And yet the thinking, which gave rise to slavery- industrial complex, assumptions of superiority, displays of false piety and excuse of biblical justifications to cover the abuse of slavery continue. Gitmo it self has come out of the hellish thinking that gave us the slave-breaking barn and unrelentingly harsh treatment of the slaveholders of old. The excuse that “these are new time and we need new rules” To deal with terrorist is the same kind of morally bankrupt, southern thinking that justified slavery on the excuse that blacks were natural slaves and made inferior by God.
MISTRUST
Since the civil war, hope has been murdered in cradle repeatedly, and when allowed to sprint it nursery, was later caught and killed by a thousand cuts later on.
Today, the grand, unifying experience of Americans seem to be not only racism but also mistrust. Everyone I know in some sense subscribes to the experience that there is some one, some major person or group of persons who are cessation to them that they cannot trust. This sense of mistrust of our loved ones and fellow men can often explain in part some of our most destructive behavior.
People don’t trust their governments in societies where the population is more diverse, not all one racial or religious group. In Iraq today where we profess to bring democracy Suni is killing Shea, neighbor fears neighbor and mistrust and uncertainty are everywhere.
What ever was wrong in Iraq before America’s invasion, it is now much worse. It is not the choose of the Iraqis to be free that I mistrust, but the
intentions and objectives of the Bush administration.
In America we live in segregated neighborhood, go to segregated churches; our children go to segregated schools and know more about people on American idol than about the neighbors or co-workers. The immediate reasons for the divisions are different but only difference between Iraq and the US is size, we talk of the killings in Iraq and yet we kill each other in roughly the same numbers in America with injustice, guns and knives as are killed by the insurgents with machine
guns and IED’s.
We are a divided nation and such a nation is doomed.
Nations trust their spy satellites more then the councils in foreign nations, and with out trust, the fabric of society collapses.
RACISM
When in America we say “America”, we invariably mean white America.
Race and class have always divided America, by income and place and by
the dividing power of corruption and graft. And in this sense, America has never really been one country, but many smaller countries. Some more economically better off than others.
In Washington, the southernization of our national politics with our emphasis of religious themes in our treatment of women’s issues, the continued marginalization of African Americas and the casting of our wars for oil as wars against terror signal a terminal phase in evolution as nation.
Other issues, taken as subsets, as symptoms of disease of national hubris and self interest include, but are not exclusive to:
SECRETCY
The nation that does not deal in the truth in its dealings with its people is doomed. The unchecked powers of a rogue presidency, the rampant secrecy in the highest level of government over secret prisons, the justice department
investigations, wire taps and monitoring of phone call by private citizens used as an excuse to protect the national security is in the destroy, taken together is a bankrupt policy for such a policy has damaged American credibility at home and abroad and lead to a tiresome undoing of American international and domestic security as peoples and nations such as those in South and central America decide to ignore American interest and protect themselves against it.
The secrecy of the bush is so all encompassing, so irregular and so random that it begs the question, WHAT IS Bush Hiding, Aside from his personal incompetence that is.
Further more, who does Bush think is a citizen? Does he think only those who are his imperfect, his supporters are worthy to
have their needs catered to. Does he think that the average American is
only supposed to have observer status in our democracy, that all we should do is read the papers and vote and leave the rest to Bush and his secretive buddies, all behaving as if they are in their tree house,
excluding the girls of the neighborhood?
As the number of and type of documents to be declared secret has increased it must be said aloud that the bush administration has undermined not only OUR right to know, but also the correct to active participation in the exhaust of our democracy and our freedom.
These are ground for impeachment!
Taxation with representation has been replaced by representation with participation!
Earlier this year, around the nation some of our citizens took the day off and made observation of the legacy of Dr King and Gave thanks in churches around the country. As well as to remember Coretta Scott King for the contributions she made to making America a great nation.
But while many were relaxing and making thanks, our government continues to wage war and promote fear around the globe. A fear, which
is fostering the very situations, we now scare. While the white world fears for nukes in the hands of Iranians and the white man rattles the saber in Washington, men of cowardice continue to spend the events of a post 9/11 world to undermine our freedoms here at home.
Our young men and women are being sacrificed in distant lands, to fight
an undefined terrorism with questionable targets. Some of our people go
to war willingly, some join the military to gain money, never hoping or
expecting to be in a war. Some of our young people join to pick up some glory, only to find that the glory got them!
THE ECONOMY
While the rich get richer and manufacturing jobs disappear into the global economy, Americas economic might is shrinking, like a balloon slowly loosing air, it is hard to search for right away. But as the jobs that made America great disappear, the economy is feeding on itself; we now have a prison -industrial complex that is replacing our former industrial strength.
And those who are getting the jobs in these are the refugees from corporate America and our industrial heartlands.
And instead of building an economy based on manufacturing, we are building one based on grievous paying service jobs, prison related industries and the military, none of which is sustainable without accepting the loss of the middle class and creating a permanent underclass, none of which has to do with making America great or keeping us safe.
We are not safe in America from our own arrogance and collective stupidity.
Neither Black guys from the Hood, nor Osama stole the election in Florida in 2000, George Bush and his Jim Crow pals did!!
The Insurgency in Iraq
AMERICA DISBANDED THE ARMIE OF IRAQ, THROWING A MILLION ANGREY MEN IN TO THE STREET WITH NO HOPE OF WORK BUT PLENTY OF SKILLS TO KILL AND MAME.
Noteworthy of the violence in Iraq now is not just based on religion, but political, local groups wanting power and getting it through the barrel
of a gun, they spread violence and clear the way through fear to ascend
to power later on.
Just like the klan-terroists of the old south.
We make demands on the new Iraqi government to follow our lead and form
a strong central government when the many cultural and tribal differences of the country would best be served by a Federated government of autonomous states governed by and a veteran Federal government. Do we witness through the violence in the street of the cities in Iraq to the underlying causes? No. We continue to enforce our own American mandate; we go merrily on as if all will be well.
THE BUSH ADMINISTRATION
Men will be tyrants given the change and George Bush is the worst president since Andrew Johnson. He has NOT asked what he can do for his
country, but what can he do to it! Our leaders are not leaders in the just sense, they neither leaders nor
do they protect, since 9/11; no American has been victim of a terrorist
attack unless they were in another country where such an attack took place. Our appointed guardians at homeland security are often unqualified associates of the president and his high paid political contributors Today our boarders are still like sieves, un-guardable without hundreds
of thousands of person employed to do so, like wise our ports process tens of thousands of cargo containers, the vast majority of which go un-scrutinized for weapons, drugs or even stowaways. We expend billions on a flexible army to fight elusive, irregular enemies who do not pose a military threat that our armies are designed to handle, thus many of the deaths in Iraq are from bombs, IED’s and rpg’s. When it come to dealing with people and their ideas, their opposition to American foreign and domestic policies we are using a immense sticks to swat miniature flies. When bin Ladin offered a truce, we officially ignored
it because America had to have justice (vengeance). Now the only person
in American prison for the crimes of 9/11 is a near-idiot who was in prison when 9/11 was committed. SPREADING DEMOCRACY The biggest problem with America is that it has only stood for freedom when white peoples freedom was at stake, in the colonies in the 1770′s, In Europe in 1917 and 1918 and in Europe again in the 1940′S and then only after we were asked. Every where else, America has opposed true democracy Put link to list of countries where democracy was opposed. The solution to all these problems begins with impeachment for high crimes and tainted corruption of democracy, and continues with a radical reduction in enticement to be corrupt while in government. Salaries for congressmen and senators should be no more than minimum wage or modest salaries. The inducements to serve should be not money but the honor of service to the people. Like wise the healthcare and other perks should be no better than what the congress and senators are content that the rest of us should have. The President is only a figurehead. Our jam is structural.We are driving the bad car, on the wrong side of the road. It’s burning oil. The tires are bald and are leaking, the radio does not work and the air conditioner is blowing heat. The steering is loose. It’s pulling to the right, it’s rusting out and it’s stolen. Changing the hood ornament wont help! African Americans in prison. Today African American is disappearing down a BLACK HOLE Of prisons, making up the majority of inmates in the federal penitentiary system. While white manufacture up the majority of the population, about 69%, African American make up only about 12%, yet we are jailed in the US to the tune of 44% of the national prison population. Most of these incarcerations are for drug expend, while white American makes up the bulk
of drug use in the nation, African Americans make up the bulk of those jailed for drug use, WHY?
THE ARGUMENTS FOR IMPEACHMENT As to the subject of impeachment, there are plenty of first-rate reasons, Constitution of the United States Article II, Piece 4 The President, Vice President and all civil officers of the United States, shall be removed from office on impeachment for and conviction of, treason, bribery, or other high crimes and misdemeanors.
Bush should be impeached because: 1. He lied us into war in Iraq. According to the U.S. media-ignored British “Downing Street Memo,” he “fixed” intelligence around a pre-determined policy of preemptive war. Results: 100,000 Iraqi civilian deaths; about 1800 U.S. soldiers tiring, in two wars, 100s of thousands wounded and traumatized. 2. Under his watch, the U.S. suffered its worst terrorist attack on its
soil. He opposed an official investigation, and then stalled for months
on testifying before a handpicked committee. Finally testified behind closed doors. 3. He was “elected” under dubious circumstances in 2000. 4. He was “elected” under dubious circumstances in 2004. 5. He has approved (and his Attorney General Gonzales has re-defined) torture at Guantonimo, Abu Ghraib, Bagram and elsewhere, while simultaneously opposing the International Criminal Court established to
check such abuses. According to Amnesty International, the United States has established a Soviet-style “gulag” of torture around the world. 6. He failed to support the Kyoto Protocols, reducing greenhouse gases,
but worked to open up Alaska’s ANWR to drilling-despoiling an eco-system and increasing greenhouse gases. 7. He chose Halliburton toady Dick Cheney to be his running mate-twice.
8. He has attempted to pack the courts with ideologue-judges intent on overthrowing Roe v. Wade, and institutionalizing the police-state abuses of Patriot Acts I and II. 9.His “No Child Left Tedious” education policies have replaced learning with testing and allowed military recruiters access to our schools, cajoling our children with military options before their minds have had
a chance to open, question and challenge. 10.He is attempting to dismantle the Social Security system that has ensured “peace and freedom” for tens of millions of working Americans for seven decades (“peace” of mind and “freedom” from economic crises) – rights hard-won by Labor and Progressives in decades-long struggles. 11. He has allied himself with Right-wing ideologues to curtail or abolish stem-cell research vital to the conquest of debilitating and fatal diseases. 12. He has failed to develop a coherent energy policy-except to prosecute wars for other peoples’ resources. He fails to acknowledge the reality and impending disasters of Global Warming. 13. He has continued the Globalization project of his predecessors: outsourcing jobs, hollowing out our middle class. 14. He has undermined the legitimate protective protocols of the C.I.A., politicizing the agency, awarding positions on the basis of ideological orthodoxy rather than merit and astute analysis. 15. He has subjugated his Administration to Neocon ideologues like Richard Perle, William Kristol and Douglas Feith; men who have endorsed
the “settlement,” expansionist and Wall-them-in policies of Ariel Sharon, sowing the seeds of anti-Arab racism, war and destruction in the Middle East for generations to come. 16. In spite of his rhetoric about freedom and democracy, he has allied
himself with dictators in Pakistan, Uzbekistan, Egypt and elsewhere. He
has increased the accelerate of arms to these states and others, fomenting instability, turmoil and war. 17. He chose Rumsfeld as DoD Secretary twice, in spite of Rumsfeld’s obvious failure to adequately plan for the post-Saddam era in Iraq, inducing massive “collateral damage,” the looting of old-fashioned treasures,
and infrastructure destruction in a country we were legally and morally
bound to rehabilitate. 18. He endorses the weaponization of space, “Rods from Gods,” and other
exotic, Star-Wars technologies to set aside a twenty-first century American global empire that is doomed to get an arms race with China
and other opposing coalitions, sowing discord and wasting the resources
of the world. 19. He has presided over the most egregious media consolidation in the nation’s history. While we have had “yellow journalism” and other media
abuses throughout our two centuries of Republic/Empire, we have never suffered the consolidation of power that we have today. He has presided
over the emasculation and cowering of PBS, while his disinformation troops have peddled fraudulent stories and comments to “reporters” like
Judith Miller, Armstrong Williams and Jeff Guckert-”Gannon,” poisoning the well of information, adding to the general confusion and Goebbelsization of our news. 20. He lied about, misled, or misunderstood the astronomical costs of the Iraq and Afghanistan wars. He continues to do so, diverting tax money for education, health care, the EPA, transportation and social infrastructure into war making and destruction. 21. He has continued and enlarged the depraved Clinton policy of using depleted uranium on the battlefield; a policy bound to cause massive suffering and death to Americans and others for generations to come. 22. He has alienated our traditional allies and more than a billion Muslims around the world. He has ransacked the marvelous will extended to the nation after the 9/11 attacks, leading a crusade of vengeance and reprisal, most often against innocents, judging without sufficient evidence, arrogating to himself a crooked, self-righteous Texas sheriff’s power to execute without justice. 23. Under his see, millions more Americans have been added to the ranks of the uninsured while health-care costs have exploded. His reply to these and other pressing social problems appears to be faith-based charities-in other words, preaching to the choir while stealing from the pews. 24. Under his watch, the North Koreans have, apparently, developed eight nuclear weapons and Israel has continued to increase and refine its arsenal-now estimated as high as five hundred, all the while continuing its overreaching, reactionary and unproductive actions against the Palestinians 25 .He lied to Congress and the American people to initiate an illegal war of aggression
26.He situation up a worldwide network of secret prisons, torture and assassinations.
27. He unleashed a massive unconstitutional wiretap and spying operation against the people of the United States
This year marks the 60th anniversary of Nuremberg trials, what is needed in the United States now is a new Nuremberg trial, with Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld and others in the Doc! We are told we must make a better military, billions wasted on the war
on terror and there is more terror now in Iraq than there was before America invaded. But still bush is called liberator. Bush is no great man, were he not the son of a rich, white man he would
be parking cars in west Texas. Here a is a man, the grandson of a nazi sympathizer who was on his way to being a rich nobody until the corporate class decided they needed someone docile enough and stupid enough to do their dirty work for them. A failed Business man, bailed out by his mommy and daddy, unqualified to be a titanic leader; this dry drunk, bush has substituted one obsession, alcohol, for another; bringing democracy to others. Bush has
brought his ideas about democracy to Iraq and Afghanistan un-invited and all the while taking democracy from you and me. Bush would no doubt like to be thought of as some sort of liberator, indeed He has done some liberating; just not the sort people are given parades
for. He has liberated billions from the national treasury for his obsessive wars on horror. He has liberated thousands of our soldiers of their health and welfare in a fool’s errand in Iraq. He has liberated more than 157000 Iraqi’s of their lives!! He has tried to liberate American from the rule of law under which Americans and freedom have thrived more and more over the decades. Bush has squandered the proper will of the world after 9/11 with gitmo, gulags and secret renditions. Now we are in an open-ended war, a war that cost much in lives and worship and promise nothing in return. Getting the picture yet? Were foreign powers to enter the United States and purchase in the actions taken by the Bush administration, there would be warfare in the
streets!! There is one scream facing the American people, are we better off now than we were before Bush took office? Fools in the service of their own egos, fears and ambitions do America to death. They think nothing of lies, self-deception and the embrace of
dearly held bigotries. No sooner do terrorist strike America than suddenly we are in a new world, not just a new world of anti terrorism,
but a original world of lawlessness and secrets and war and excuses for war.
And spinning us to war are political operators, lawyers, spin doctors, armchair warriors, appointees and policy wonks dreaming of everything from cheap oil to free tickets to the Mets game. These back room dealers turn the criminal acts of a few terrorists in to an excuse for a global war on terror. The machinations of men Like Chaney and Rumsfeld, leisurely the scenes, pushing for war, jockeying for influence and lusting for power are unbiased
the sort of people who will get us all killed! Are these men any better
than the eye for an leer crowd that supports them. Salubrious Christians all, turning that other cheek. Vengeance for the Lord and sword for Gideon as we invade the Muslim world at the behest of the hardliners, weapons manufactures, Israel and the oil barons. Until men have sleepless nights over the injustices committed in America and in her name around the world it is a certainty that similar
crimes and injustices, be they against individuals or against the whole
country will be visited upon us. The men in Washington are a disgrace,
they has betrayed their manhood, they betray the tenants of good government, they have cost innocents in Iraq their lives, innocents in America as well and then wonder why America is the despised of the globe. THE CALL FOR IMPEACHMENT MUST GO FORTH ON THIS FOURTH!
It is not too late to reverse this situation in America, but it will be
soon. The first step is realizing it. The second step is getting involved. As the propaganda slogan disguising our current war goes, “Freedom isn’t free.” But our war for freedom isn’t abroad; it’s here at home. Where ever you are if you thirst for freedom from tyranny and strive for democracy be it in Burma or Brooklyn, regardless of where you live,
your are an American, you are an Athenian, you are the brother of Aung San Suu Kyi Aung San Suu Kyi Aung San Suu Kyi Aung San Suu Kyi, the son
of Nelson Mandela, the daughter of Harriet Tubmen, the protégée of Robert F. Kennedy, the student of Mary Mac loud Bethune or W.E.B Dubois, the kin of Mother Theresa, the child of Malcolm x or Martin Luther King. More than that, you are the enemy of every itsy-bitsy town policemen with chip on his shoulder, every corrupt politician, every pathetic bigot, every colluding businessman, every two bit District Attorney trying to make a name for them self by piling up convictions, Every petty tyrant, every Joe Stalin, every Franco, every Pol Pot and Hitler and yes, every
George Bush. In your mind that questions every call for McCarthy style conformity, challenges every mongering of war dressed up as patriotism and piety, in your utter raised against tyranny, rings the True Chimes of freedom…let freedom ring. On this Fourth Of July, remember one thing… No one will guard your liberty more fiercely than you will!
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1.Lucky
Sleep never came naturally for me. So every night, for about an hour or so, I would simply lay in my bed, thinking. Nothing in particular came to mind, just a few random thoughts about life, my future, and so forth.
I looked at the clock and sighed. Three-thirty A.M. I had to be awake at six. Most days, waking up was just as difficult as falling asleep. So I knew I was in for it almost three hours from now, when I had to get up and drag myself to school. Not that I minded. I loved college. It had so mighty freedom, and was a definite upgrade from high school, which I had hated with a passion.
In high school I was the typical outcast. The pretty-ish vexed girl with only a few friends. Or at least that’s how people saw me. But overall, I just preferred keeping to myself. I never felt the need to speak unnecessarily. And as far as friends go, I always had a hard time relating to people my age. They were all the same – immature, vain children. I had a difficult time associating with that.
But college suited me much better. Even though I was only three weeks into my first semester, I felt like the people there were far more mature. I still hadn’t made any friends there, but I had only started. I was bound to develop some friends. Things would change for me, I unprejudiced knew it.
I swiftly jumped from bed as my scare clock rang. I ran across the room and to the beeping white box, which was inconveniently located across from my bed and on top of my small television. Quickly, I silenced it. I could hardly stand the annoying sound. I stood there for a minute, slightly dazed from my lack of sleep, and decided that taking a shower would assist wake me up. So I stumbled my way to the bathroom.
After my shower I wrapped a towel around my head and walked naked to my bedroom. Nobody was home, so I made no effort to cover up. My parents were always out for work by five-thirty on weekdays. This was a estimable thing. I hated to see anyone in the morning. Actually, I hated for anyone to see me in the morning. I wasn’t a morning person. I always woke up in a bad mood and it took about half and hour after waking for me to calm down.
I opened my closet, in pursuit of something to wear. It was mid-September, and the weather was far past warm, so I pulled out a pair of dim brown shorts and a tank top and dressed quickly. After, I went to the kitchen. Breakfast was a meal I couldn’t live without. It wasn’t a happy day if I didn’t get breakfast. On top of the refrigerator were three boxes of cereal. I poured myself a bowl of my favorite and walked toward the large, rectangular kitchen table. On my way there, I tripped over the corner of the rug. The bowl of cereal was out of my hands and I was headed downward face first.
Suddenly, everything was moving in slow motion. I quickly regained my balance and caught myself before I could fall. Then, without conscious thinking, I reached my hand out and positioned it underneath the cereal bowl and grasped it just before it hit the ground. At that steady moment, time seemed to resume as usual.
I stood dumbfounded for a moment. This was surprising. I was always so clumsy. Normally I would have never caught it, let alone without making a mess. But I did. Maybe my reflexes were making up for all of those times that they hadn’t worked before.
I took my bowl and continued to the table. When I finished eating, I went back into the bathroom and pulled out the blow dryer. My hair wasn’t drying fleet enough and I was running out of time that I needed to get ready. Once it was completely dried, I pulled out the hair straightener from the cabinet under the sink. Usually I would have skipped all of this hair stuff, but after the blow dryer, my hair was all frizzy. I rapidly pulled the hot tool down each section of my hair until it was pin straight. I finished and turned it off surprised at how I hadn’t burned myself, especially because I had done it so quickly. Every time I would straighten or curl my hair I wouldn’t get away with at least one burn on my neck or hands. Maybe luck was with me today.
When I returned to my room, I noticed that the top of my vanity dresser was cluttered. I looked at the mess and sighed as I sat down in the chair in front of it. I looked at my face in the mirror. My pale skin seemed to be almost glowing today. And it was remarkably certain. I couldn’t spot a single blemish. My shadowy eyes sparkled, showing no sign of my nearly sleepless night. I picked up a brush off of the table and pulled it through my long hair. The dark brown of it was such an odd difference to my naturally chalky skin. My eyes almost matched the color of my hair, making my ivory skin stand out even more. I pulled out some makeup and began to apply it, curling my eyelashes, then putting on mascara, smoothing on some blush to give me a little color. I stopped at that. There was no need for much makeup today. For some reason, when I looked in the mirror today, I was pleased with myself. I probably could have gone out without doing anything to my face and I would have looked beyond decent. So, with that, I grabbed my book bag and car keys and bounded out the door, hoping my luck would follow.
I crookedly parked my car in the front of the school parking lot. Monday mornings were always busy, so I was glad to have found parking at all. Usually, I would have to park down the street and run the rest of the way, but today someone pulled out fair as my bulky green van approached.
Political Science 101 was my only class today. I enjoyed this class. The workload was light and the professor always kept his lectures short, which allowed us to leave early. And I found the subject interesting. There was nothing like politics to start your day.
I walked across the campus and found my way to room D-101 and entered. Most of the students were already seated. I felt a bit awkward as I found my self entering in front of the whole room. This was a huge class. Probably seventy to ninety students mild this course. Even worse, the classroom arrangement made it a bit more intimidating. The front of the room had a large floor, almost like a stage, where the professor would give his lectures. Then the floor turned into a giant “staircase” ending high up to the back of the wall. On each step of the “staircase” was a row of about ten desks.
Just about everyone had turned their heads to look at me as I came in. I avoided all of their glances and worked my way to an empty seat on the edge of the very back row. I vowed to myself that I would always be just a little early every time from now on to avoid their peculiar stares. I did not like people looking at me. I never did, and I probably never would.
I prepared myself for today’s lecture. I pulled out my textbook, a few pieces of paper, and a pen. I set my bag back down, underneath my seat. I leaned back up to position myself correctly in my chair, but as I did this I knocked my textbook and my pen off of my desk. Once again, everything was perfectly clear and in slow motion. My right hand swiftly shot out and grabbed the pen, while my corresponding foot caught my textbook. Time fiercely resumed again. Still shrinking, but trying not to attract unwanted attention, I set my pen on the table, and reached over to grab the book off of my foot.
“Nice catch,” a voice next to me said.
I winced. I hadn’t realized that I was sitting next to anybody, but then again, I’d never paid much attention to the others in class. But my mind and ears fixated on the voice. It was deep and rough. The accent was different, English. I turned to face it.
“Thanks,” I mumbled as my head rotated toward my left. I did not look at him until after I had said this and, if I had, I probably wouldn’t have been able to speak.
He was beautiful. This was a bizarre word for me to exercise to describe a man, but it was the first word that came to mind. His hair was dirty blonde and very messy. His skin tone was a few shades darker than mine, which wasn’t hard at all to effect, and so very lovely.
I must have been staring because he began to look at me oddly. I expeditiously turned back to my things, feeling hot with embarrassment. I fumbled with my papers for a few seconds. Then he spoke again.
“My name is Henry,” he spoke, with his charming accent. He had such confidence as he stuck his hand out, intending for me to shake it.
His expectancy further disconcerted me. I twisted uncomfortably in my seat to face him once again.
“Mina Miller,” I replied as confidently as I could and took his hand. As I did this I looked right into his eyes, still trying not to seem shy. This was a mistake. His blue eyes made me feel even more timid and my undaunted front disappeared. I looked down trying to avoid his eyes. Fortunately, at that exact moment, the professor loudly walked in and immediately began his lecture. I let go of his hand and turned to begin my notes. During the entire class, I completely ignored the young man next to me. I tried my best to pretend he wasn’t there. A few times during the lecture, I saw him look at me, expecting a glance back, but as much as I was tempted to, I never looked. I would not make a fool of myself.
When the professor dismissed the class I packed up my things with abnormal speed and rushed out of my seat trying to avoid the boy next to me.
“Goodbye, Mina,” I heard him loudly call after me right when I was about to exit the room. Many of the other students looked at him as he yelled this.
I turned around to watch him flashing a smile at me. I half-smiled back, not using my teeth. and turned to proceed out the door.
“What an idiot,” I mumbled to myself as I walked to my car. “How could I have acted so stupid!” I said this too loudly and a nearby group of people looked at me with confused expressions. As soon as they saw me look at them, they all smiled, trying not to humiliate me further, I assumed. I ignored them all and kept walking.
It was about ten o’clock when I got back home. I’d spent the whole car ride home pondering on the things that I might have said to make me sound like I wasn’t such a shy loser. It’s funny how I would always imagine the right things to say or do in sure situations after they had already occurred. In my head I’d pictured me responding to his every word with objective as much confidence as he had, and smiling fair as brilliantly at every word he said.
But it was too late. He probably already thought I was a freak. A nothing. Then I giggled furiously. What was I thinking? Like I would ever have a chance with him even if I had said and done all of the honest things. He was too good looking. I certainly wasn’t bad looking, far from it actually, especially today, but still, he was just…beautiful. I laughed again. I probably wouldn’t talk to him again anyway. I decided to forget about him and recede on with my day.
I spent most of the afternoon lounging around. Television and videogames were a nice way to demolish time. When I become bored with that the Internet was the best entertainment. But soon I was uninterested with that so I settled on taking a walk. I hadn’t done this in a while. Up until I started college, I would take a long walk whenever I would glean too stressed out. Plus, I’d been pigging out all day and felt a bit guilty.
Walking down my street, I noticed the house two houses from my own. The “For Sale” sign had been taken down. Someone had finally bought it. Ever since the worn lady that lived there had died, the house laid vacant. As I wandered back home, I wondered what the new neighbors would be like.
At four o’clock my mom came home, grocery bags in hand. She always radiated energy, so the second she walked in the door, I was out of the lazy stupor I had been in all day. I looked at her and wondered what it was about her that gave off such energy. She was thirty eight years old, yet she had such a youth about her. When she would tell people her age, most would never believe it.
Brown was her natural hair color but a few years ago she changed it to an unnatural bleach blonde. Her skin was always tan, thanks to her frequent visits to the tanning bed. Makeup was her best friend and she wore a lot more than I thought necessary, but that was typical of her. Looking any worse than her best was out of the question.
She gave me an odd look.
“Wow Mina, you look nice today. What did you do? ” she curiously asked as she place walked into the kitchen and position the bags on the counter.
I followed her to the kitchen and brushed the question off. “Nothing, I’m just having a good day. How was work? ” I would ask her this almost every day when she came home, just for something conversational to say.
“It was work. I met the modern boss today. He seems nice enough.”
“That’s good.” I didn’t really want to continue this conversation and immediately regretted asking. Every time she began talking about work, she wouldn’t stop. So I asked a new question. “What’s in the bags? “
“Oh just a few things for dinner,” she replied pulling while rummaging through them. “Hopefully I can have it all finished before your father gets home.” She began opening bags of frozen vegetables and emptying them into the steamer. She paused for a second and then looked at me with hopeful eyes. “Are you sure you didn’t want a party next week? “
Ugh. Exactly one week from today was my dreaded eighteenth birthday. I shouldn’t be upset about turning eighteen. I should be excited. Most people I went to school with were already adults, and I was by far the youngest in all of my classes. But, as ridiculous as it sounded, I could not help but feel like becoming an adult would bring some drastic, inevitable change into my life.
“No, mom, we already went over this,” I snapped. “I really don’t want a party. I was actually hoping that you, Dad, and I could go out to a nice, quiet dinner.” I said this almost like it was a demand. I knew my mom was set on throwing me a huge eighteenth birthday bash, so I really had to let her know that was absolutely not what I wanted.
“Gorgeous.” She bitterly said and started on dinner again. I immediately felt bad for not allowing her the pleasure of giving her only daughter her first adult birthday party, but I did not like attention and a birthday party honest seemed like more attention than I would ever need.
“How about we don’t have a large party then. How about we have a small get together, unbiased some family and a few friends,” she said pleadingly, her soft eyes melting telling me that she really, really wanted this. “I wouldn’t make it a enormous production.”
I knew then that my mom was impartial as sad about me turning eighteen as I was. I wouldn’t be her microscopic girl anymore. Guilt washed over me for saying no to her party idea in the first place. “Fine,” I sighed, sounding resigned. “But try not to go overboard, mom.”
“Thank you,” she squealed and then ran over to hug me. She looked so excited, full of her abnormal energy. “Now,” she said, letting go of me, “Will you help me with dinner? I’ll never win this done before your father gets home unless I have an extra set of hands.”
I agreed and we went to work.
When my father arrived home dinner was ready. The three of us sat down at the kitchen table. We all talked about each other’s days. I loved this, sitting down with my parents for dinner. It felt suited knowing that we could all part our lives with one another just by sitting at a table. Plus, the food my mother and I made was delicious.
My dad began telling us about the retirement party that took station in his office today. Unfortunately, this reminded my mom of something and she fiercely interrupted him telling him about the party she was planning for me.
“Jillian,” he sternly began “you know she doesn’t want a party.”
“Oh, it’s not going to be a large affair, besides, she’s already agreed to it.” She excitedly looked at me to confirm this.
I nodded, trying to look excited as well. I didn’t want to make my mom feel bad. My father looked at me with apprehension. He knew how much I hated parties and he was obviously confused as to why I would agree to one.
“Okay,” he finally said. “But, Jill, please don’t spend all of the money. I know how overexcited you get when you do these things.”
I didn’t think about this. Of course she would blow tons of money. She always did on these types of things. My stomach felt a bit uneasy as I imagined what she could employ so much cash on. Hopefully nothing too adore. I shook off the thought.
“Don’t be so stingy, Dave. After all, it is your daughters first adult birthday.”
My father groaned and that made my mother laugh. I sat there nervously, wondering what other horrors would accompany my adulthood.
The next morning, I managed to wake up one minute before my alarm clock rang. This was current for me. Waking up easily was not a talent normally I possessed. But I was not grouchy, mostly because I wasn’t tired at all. I was upset, however, that today and tomorrow I had a job to attend to. Tuesdays and Wednesdays were the only two weekdays that I didn’t have school, so I was free to work. Of course I didn’t have too much to complain about. It was a fairly simple, well-paying job and I got the hours I wanted. Eight to Four. I worked the day and still got to relish my evenings.
I got out of bed and took my usual morning shower. When I finished I went back to my room, put on my work uniform and started to brush out my hair. I looked in the mirror, and I was pleased to scrutinize that I was having another good day. My skin was smooth glowing and perfect, and my hair was drying into a nice, wavy style around my face. However, I still pulled out my makeup bag, trying to take advantage of my novel beauty. I started curling my eyelashes. But I stopped because it felt different. I set the curler down and pushed my head closer to the mirror, examining my eyes. My eyelashes were longer, a lot longer. They were also significantly thicker. What happened? Were eyelashes supposed to grow that fast? They hadn’t looked like that yesterday.
I decided that this was just part of my newly acquired luck and continued my beauty routine. Mascara, blush, and chapstick. Once again I decided I didn’t need anymore than that.
I skipped breakfast, which was very different for me. I wasn’t at all hungry, probably because I filled up on so much dinner last night. There was few minutes before I had to leave for work and my room needed a bit of maintenance so I began cleaning. I disliked cleaning, but I felt like my room was becoming overcrowded with trash. Underneath my bed was a pigsty, but my closet was the worst. There were piles of shoes and empty shopping bags and boxes on the floor. The rack where my clothes hung was disorganized. Empty hangers stuck out from in-between my clothes, half of which were falling off of the hangers. The shelf on top of that was even worse. There were dozens of books and papers all mangled and scattered up there. I resolved to super it sometime within the next few days. My mother would have a heart attack if she saw the mess.
I tried closing my closet doors, but they wouldn’t shut and I noticed that an oversized black book was jamming it. I opened the doors and picked the book up. My grandmother had given it to me two years ago, honest before she died. There was nothing written on the cover, and the inside was completely blank. I assumed that she wanted me to use it as a journal, but I’d never written in it and I didn’t concept on starting. I put the book back up on the closet shelf and once again proceeded to close the doors.
I looked up at the clock and realized it was time to leave. I do on my name badge, grabbed my black purse, and headed out.
When I was settled into the driver’s seat of my van I remembered that I hadn’t gotten gas in a few days and was almost on empty. I turned my key until I heard the engine start and looked at the gas meter. It was full.
No, that couldn’t be right. I turned the car off and pulled out the key. The gas pointer fell back down to below empty. I returned the key to the ignition and restarted it, thinking that this time, I would get an accurate reading. The pointer flew support up, telling me once again that I had a full tank. I thought support to yesterday, but I didn’t remember putting gas in the van. I stared at the gauge. It was probably broken. I would have to ask my dad to peep at it later.
It only took about five minutes to get from my house to the grocery store where I worked. It was convenient to have my place of employment so close to home. However, there were some aspects of it that weren’t so convenient. Because this was the closest grocery store to my home, I found myself there quite often. I didn’t like being there more than I had to be, but the next grocery store was a good twenty minutes away and I didn’t want to have to go so far to unprejudiced pick up a few things.
I parked in the far end of the parking lot, like all of the employees were instructed to do. The closer spots were supposed to be for the customers. And since it was such a busy store all of the front spots were always taken. I walked across the large lot, looking at the automatic door that I would enter. People were bustling in and out with their baskets full of groceries, all in a speed to get back to their lives.
I entered and walked across the front end of the store to the time clock. I quickly punched my number into the keypad. My name appeared in the mask across the top of it : Miller, Mina L. It was going to be a long day.
The hours passed until it was finally time to go home.
The following day passed almost exactly the same way. Because I had done absolutely nothing Tuesday night, I resolved on finishing my English paper and doing a bit of reading for Political Science. Those were the two classes that I had tomorrow and I needed to get all of my work done.
I spent most of the night working on my paper. It was eight o’clock when I was almost completely done. Relief spilled through me. I had been worried about not being able to finish in time. Usually, I loved doing my English assignments, but this one in particular was tedious and fervent making comparisons of two ridiculous stories. I paper-clipped the six page document and neatly put it into my folder, where I wouldn’t lose it. As I was doing this, my mother stepped in to tell me about her plans for my birthday party.
“Hey honey,” she paused and looked at me. “I finished making the plans for your party,” she said conversationally, “I’ve actually decided that your party will be this Sunday. I know that’s the day before your actual birthday, but I don’t think a Monday party is such a good opinion. But it’s planned all out and I’ve sent all of the invitations. There will be people here all week cleaning and setting up the backyard. Oh, Mina, it’s going to be perfect! You should see the all of the things I’ve bought and how nice everything is going to look.”
Just thinking of these things horrified me. My mother saw how upset I looked and her face filled with anguish. This made me feel awful. As upset as I was, I realized how much misfortune she save into it and how much she expected me to be happy about her party plans. I composed myself and said what I could to make her happy.
“Thanks mom, I’m determined it will be really nice,” I said this as convincingly as I could, but I didn’t look like she was buying it. I went for a distraction and asked, ” But what will I wear? “
Her face instantaneously brightened with excitement and she furiously began discussing my countless wardrobe options.
So much for my luck.
* * * * * *
Once again, just like yesterday and the day before, I woke up one minute before my alarm clock would bother me.
I was rather hungry so I fumbled my way to the kitchen and pulled some pop-tarts out of the cabinet. I took them relieve to my bedroom and sat on my bed and ate, fuming over the party information my mother had delivered to me last night. She should be glad she wasn’t home right now, or my grumpy morning-self would lace into her.
My morning self-maintenance routine began as usual with me taking a shower. I pulled out a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt which fit my body snugly. I paired that with a pair of black flats.
I felt like I should look nice today, and I knew why. I was hoping to seek Henry again. This was stupid of me. I shouldn’t be thinking about some boy who could probably care less about me.
I blew my hair dry. I curled all of my hair after this and pulled the front sections off of my face and clipped them to the back of my head. I thought it looked nice, like hair you expect a celebrity to wear while attending some fancy event.
When I sat down in the chair in front of the vanity, I noticed my face for the first time.
It was even more beautiful than the last two days. My ivory skin was extra radiant, my dusky eyes sparkled, and my features seemed more striking than ever. My lips seemed fuller, my jawline more angular, my cheekbones higher.
If becoming eighteen meant becoming more attractive each day, than I would happily suffer through a million overdone birthday parties. Okay, maybe that was stretching it. But I did enjoy my semi-new countenance.
Doing my makeup today was fun. It was like taking something satisfactory and making it better. I curled my abnormally thick lashes, put on some mascara, touched on a bit of blush and decided on some lip gloss.
I looked in the mirror one last time, very pleased. Was this conceited? I immediately felt guilty for thinking myself so good-looking. I knew it wasn’t nice to be so shallow. It felt wrong, and more than that, it all seemed too bizarre. This could not be normal. People’s appearances didn’t change so drastically in such short periods of time. Something was definitely wrong.
I looked at the clock and my vain worries disintegrated. Seven thirty. If I wanted to develop it to class on time I would have to leave now. Just imagining all those people looking at me again made me rush. I would try to get there before the class could fill. I gathered my text books, my bag, and my car keys.
Thanks to a car accident and my fellow commuter’s rubbernecking, I only just made it on time. Fortunately, the professor was running unhurried, as usual.
When I entered the classroom, all eyes were on me again. But instead of looking away after a few seconds, many of their eyes followed me until I sat down in an empty seat on the kill of one of the center rows. The seat next to me was also empty and I was glad. I didn’t need people distracting me. I had too much on my mind already.
I couldn’t stop myself from scanning the room, trying to scope out my attractive companion from last time. I looked towards the front rows of the room and I saw him, front and center. He was twisted in his seat, looking back at me. In an instant, the temperature rose at least twenty degrees. Unbiased as I made eye contact, he smiled, pulled his things together and began climbing up towards me.
I froze. Was he going to sit next to me? Why? Was he eager in me? He couldn’t be. And Henry was possibly the most perfect looking boy I had ever spoken to. But then again, I did look quite nice today…
He took the desk to my correct and shifted it over, so he was sitting what normally would have been uncomfortably cl
“Good morning, Mina,” he beamed at me as he said it. I almost melted at the sound of his deep rough voice, his beautiful accent. “How are you today? “
I was once again stunned by his confidence. But somehow still I managed to hold my composure. “I’m shapely. And yourself? “
“Well, now I’m feeling quite astonishing. I’ve managed to snag the seat correct next to the most beautiful girl in the entire school, ” he said.
He thought I was glowing. I didn’t know how to respond. I had little to no experience with people giving me such straightforward compliments. I decided to change the subject.
“Did you study for the exam today? ” I tried to ask this as convincingly as I could, but felt dumb because I knew it came out rushed and it sounded like I was embarrassed.
“No. I don’t need to stare for this class,” he told me, “After the first few exams, I realized that the professor uses the accurate same answer key every time.” He held out his scantron to show me it was already filled in.
“Oh.” I felt like I should have said something else, but I had nothing to say. Instead I curiously reached into my bag and pulled out the scantron from last weeks test and one from the week before. The answers matched exactly. He watched as I pulled out a new scantron and copied down the letters from the other two exams. My test was finished before it even started. Of course, I would check the answers unprejudiced in case.
“Thanks,” I managed to say.
“Not a problem.” Then he stared right into my eyes. Not unprejudiced a normal stare, but a smoldering, longing search for. I found myself staring back into his eyes. This felt weird but, somehow, I liked it.
The professor then walked in mumbling loudly and I looked away from Henry’s eyes and to the front of the room, but I could still feel his stare intent on my face. This made me feel very discomforted so I shifted in my seat and snuck a glance at him. He saw this, smirked, and then turned to face the professor.
The exam began after the professor lectured us on the consequences of cheating. The questions were confusing and the objective answers were so close, that it was hard to differentiate between them. I was suddenly glad that I had kept up with the reading. I checked the answers that Henry had suggested to me, and to my minute surprise, they were correct.
After about an hour, the professor collected our exams. He told us that we were free to leave. This upset me. I had secretly been looking forward to the next hour of Henry’s presence. But I was also glad because I had English 101 next and I needed the extra hour to edit the essay that was due.
I collected my things and got up out of my desk and headed toward the door, but a tap on my shoulder sent me turning back in his direction
“I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to an early lunch,” he confidently said. I nervously bit my lip and didn’t respond, so he continued, “If your not busy, that is.”
I debated with myself. Go out to lunch, consume an hour with the him, or finish the essay. I picked the latter. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I have english next, and I aloof have my essay to finish.”
His lip inwardly puckered and he looked a bit embarrassed. I doubt that someone like him was used to such rejection. But he took it well and spoke again just as confident as ever. “Well, good luck with that. I will see you Monday, Mina.” He stared at me again for a few moments, the intense spy in his eyes and his vivid smile and then turned to leave.
I felt like a moron. I knew the sincere debate that had been going on in my mind. It wasn’t spend time with Henry or achieve my essay, it was really be brave and go versus be a wimp and capture the easy contrivance out. I had taken the easy way out. The easy, but unsatisfying way out.
I walked out of the classroom, upset, wanting to run after him and declare him “Yes, I would love to go to lunch with you.” But it was too late. I had lost my chance.
English dragged on. Mr. Cobert, the professor, collected our essays. He looked impressed with the size of mine.
“Didn’t sleep this week, huh? ” He chuckled and continued collecting.
He gave a long lecture on a short African story and somehow, he ended up on a tangent about sports, debating with other students about their favorite teams. This made time take even longer to pass. But finally class did end, and I got to go home.
My house was empty and silent. I didn’t like it. It gave me a lot of freedom to think, and I didn’t want to remember the dreary choice I had made earlier today. I needed to do something to take my mind off of it, so I went for a walk.
Once again, I noticed the house two from mine. This time, there was a moving truck in front of it, with half a dozen people unloading it. I wondered if they were the people who would be living there. Or maybe they were just movers. I deliberated for a moment and decided to go ask and introduce myself. I walked over to one of the men unloading the truck.
“Hello,” I said, “I’m Mina, I live two houses away. Are you moving in? “
“No, we’re just movers, the man who is buying the house is inside,” he told me. “He will probably be out in a minute to check on his things.”
Just then, coincidentally, a tall young man walked out. He looked like he might be about twenty or twenty-one, but there was an air of maturity and sophistication about him that made him seem mighty older, more dominant. I also noticed that he was quite lovely. He looked at me with interested confusion.
“Now who is this? ” He smiled at the mover I was talking to.
Before he could answer, I said, “My name is Mina Miller, I live a couple of houses down. Are you moving in here? “
“Yes,” he seriously said. He momentarily paused, keeping a brief look of concentration on me. He quickly snapped out of it and smiled. “I’m Jack Harvey. It’s very nice to meet you.”
“Same to you,” I said. “Well, I should let you get back to entertaining your things.” I felt like I was bothering him. He must have been busy and didn’t want to prolong the conversation. “See you later.”
“Bye,” I thought this was all he would say, but he stared at me stared again, seriousness in his face, “And once again, it was nice meeting you.” Then he walked back inside.
I walked the two houses back to my house, happy to have such a nice new neighbor. The mature lady who used to live there was mean and creeped me out.
My mom arrived home at four-thirty and my dad did the same about ten minutes later. We spoke of party plans during dinner and my mother told me she wanted to engage me shopping on Saturday for something nice to wear the day of my party. She also said that we would do a calm family dinner the night of my genuine birthday and she wanted the both of us to have something nice to wear because we would be going to a very formal restaurant. I had a hard time paying attention to what she was saying. My mind was in other places.
As I lay in bed that night, all I could re-enact in my head was my ridiculous rejection to Henry. I played it over and over in my head until sleep finally washed over me.
Morning came fleet and as usual, my one-minute-before-the-alarm-rings routine continued. On Fridays, I had to attend my current class as well as my most dreaded. I loved psychology, it was very interesting and I found it somewhat practical. On the other hand, I hated my Biology/Human Anatomy class. There was too much survey time required and I was disgusted every time we had to dissect something.
I took my shower and got ready quickly. As usual, I looked better than the day before, but I ignored it. I could care less. As long I would be going to Biology, nothing could cheer me up.
On my way to school, I decided that I needed to cessation at the gas situation. Even though my tank still read completely full, I thought it might be broken. I didn’t want to get stuck in the middle of traffic because I had run out of gas.
I pulled my van in next to pump number one, turned it off, got out and walked into the station. The man behind the glass window greeted me and I smiled and said hello.
“Twenty on number one,” I told him. I went to pull the money out of my wallet, but just then I realized that I had left it at home. I reached into my pocket, desperately wishing that I had some forgotten money in there. I was relieved when I felt several bills crumple in my hand. I pulled them out and began counting them. My eyes widened in surprise.
Out of my pocket came ten one hundred dollar bills. Never in my life would I keep that powerful money in my pocket. I didn’t even make that much in a week, let alone two weeks.
The gas attendant looked at me strangely, but I simply stood there, shocked, staring at the money.
“Miss,” he began, “Is everything alright.” He looked at me speculatively and eyed the money. His face grew suspicious.
I grabbed one of the hundreds, handed it to him, and shoved the rest of the money back in my pocket. As confused as I was, the last thing I needed was for this guy to think I robbed someone. He glared at me as he gave me eighty dollars back.
“Thanks,” I managed.
He said nothing.
When I got back to the van, I stuck my hand in my pocket to see if I had imagined the whole money thing. Surely enough, the wad of hundreds was still there. I shoved it deep in my pocket. How did it acquire there? Could one of my parents placed it there?
Panicked as a was, I needed to pick up moving. If I sat here any longer, I would be late for Psychology. I opened my gas tank, pulled the pump out and stuck it in. I pulled the handle and the gas began to pump, but after a few seconds, gas started spilling out running down the side of the vehicle and onto the ground. I let the handle go. I hadn’t put gas in the van in over a week, and I’d been doing a substantial amount of driving.
I stood there, just staring at the spilled gas. What was happening? Lately everything had been so strange. I compiled a mental list: my sudden beauty, my easy waking, my improved reflexes, my gas tank, and now the money. Something was definitely off.
About two minutes of me just standing and staring passed before the attendant came out of the station to see of everything was alright.
“I’m alright,” I lied.
I wasn’t alright.
I put the pump back down and got into my car, driving away. My mind racing a million miles an hour. Something was happening to me. What could it be though? Was I crazy?
Before I could finish my thoughts, I was in the school parking lot. Just as I pulled in, someone pulled out, once again leaving me a free spot right in the front.
Was I just lucky? Was I mental? Either way, everything in my life seemed to be working in my favor. I smiled at that thought. Never before had things magically worked out so well for me. It probably wouldn’t last either. I should just enjoy my temporary luck while I could.
Time flew by while I was in psychology. It usually did. The teacher lectured on Pavlov and Classical Conditioning and before I knew it, it was ten thirty and class had ended. Unfortunately, Biology was next.
On my way to biology class, I noticed that a very large number of men were staring at me. Some even whistled and made derogatory comments. As offensive as this was, I felt a slight satisfaction. Never before had people reacted to me like this.
“Enjoy your luck while it lasts,” I quietly told myself so nobody else would hear.
Biology started as usual. Today the doctor was lecturing us on cranial nerves and their functions. I couldn’t pay any attention. Random thoughts about the last few days and their corresponding events plagued my mind.
When the professor had finished his lesson, he began questioning random students on what he had just lectured us about. I prayed that he wouldn’t call on me.
He did.
I knew my luck would run out. He had asked me a question which was much more difficult than the ones he gave the others. He must have noticed my lack of attention.
“Miss Miller,” he began, “What is the function, type, space, and name of cranial nerve number four? ” He smirked, knowing I had no clue.
And I didn’t have a clue. So I was surprised when my mouth started moving.
“Cranial nerve number four is the Trochlear nerve which is a motor nerve that originates in the the midbrain and goes through the Superior Orbital Fissure. It functions to move the eyeball.”
I had no opinion what I had just said. I honest knew that it came out. Never, would I have known any of that stuff, let alone been able to explain it and sound intelligent. Maybe my luck still stood by me.
The professor looked at me incredulously. The rest of the class sniggered and I even heard a few girls mutter things along the lines of “showoff” and “overachiever”.
“Very good, Miss Miller,” he reluctantly said. I saw that he looked a bit disappointed that he didn’t have a chance to chew me out, but he had nothing so he continued with his lesson.
The rest of the class passed quickly and I soon found myself sitting in the driver’s seat of my van. I didn’t start it like I usually would, though. Instead I sat, thinking.
I thought about how lucky I had been today, and the last few days, for that matter. Was it all just a coincidence? Had something happened to me? Did it have something to do with my upcoming birthday?
This was insane. I was being crazy. This was all nothing more than a mere coincidence. I couldn’t have everything work out the way I wanted. Things just didn’t happen that way. I would prove it to myself. I would test it. I would try to make things happen the way I wanted them to.
I started my car. “I want to make it home in five minutes,” I said to myself.
I began driving, my normal pace. I knew it was impossible to make it home in any less than fifteen minutes, let alone five. But I wanted to demonstrate to myself that everything was normal, and the recent happenings were all unprejudiced a fluke. Objective because I wished something to happen it wouldn’t come true. It couldn’t come lawful.
I exited the parking lot and rounded the corner onto the main street. There was absolutely no traffic, no more than two cars on the road.
“Coincidence,” I whispered to myself. I kept my flow, and headed towards the first stop light. As I approached it, I saw that it was red. When I neared, it flashed green, letting me pass right through.
“Another fluke,” I said, grinding my teeth.
I continued driving without interference and eventually merged onto the freeway. I looked down at the clock and realized that less than two minutes had passed up to this point. Immediately, my head bolted up to check for traffic. My eyes widened in disbelief. This was not happening. There was not a single car in sight.
I was parked in the driveway of my house two minutes later.
I sat in the drivers seat, keys still in the ignition. It had seemed almost too coincidental for that to happen on top of everything else. To be honest, it freaked my out a bit, But I still wasn’t convinced. I was too stubborn and it was too simple of a test. My logical side told me I would have to experiment again.
I left the keys in the ignition and I purposefully hit the door-lock button. I shut my door and stood there, wishing to myself that I would somehow be able to accept back in and get my keys. I proceeded to open the driver’s seat door. Locked.
“Ha,” I chortled. “You are a fool, Mina. You truely are.”
And I was a fool. How could I be stupid enough to believe I could have whatever I wished for? And now my keys were locked in the car. Crap.
I frantically walked around the car, wondering what I should do. My mom and dad wouldn’t be home for a few hours, and I didn’t want to be stuck here the entire time. Plus, my house key was on the key ring. Quickly, I tugged the passengers door handle. No luck. The back door handle yielded the same result.
Frustrated, I began digging through my purse, in search of my cell phone. I would have to call one of my parents to help me. I pulled a few things out and reached in to pull out what I thought would be my phone. My hand missed and pulled something else out. A key. My spare car key, right in my purse. Never did I remember putting it in there.
I needed a real test. A true assessment that would prove that this wasn’t all an accident. I walked in the house and went straight to my bedroom.
I’ll admit I was scared. But I felt crazy, and this was the only way for me to glean out once and for all. This test would be exact evidence. Not something that may or may not be a coincidence, but hard, physical proof.
My chair sat in the middle of the room and, for some reason, it seemed like it knew that I was coming to sit down in it. It made it the whole site more ugly. Regardless, I sat, clenching both of my hands into tight fists. I looked around my room focusing on the eggshell white walls. I could feel my nails digging deeper into the skin of my palms as I closed my eyes and thought hard.
I wish that the walls of my bedroom were blue.
Rationality told me I was being ridiculous. That was the only reason I didn’t bolt from the room without looking. After a few seconds of internal deliberation, I slowly opened my eyes.
The walls were bright blue.
I froze in place. Movement was not a possible option for me at that moment.
I’m almost sure that most people would be amazed, would even feel worthy if they could have anything they wished for. I didn’t feel that way. I had never been more scared in my entire life.
My horror was interrupted when I heard my mother’s car pull up in the driveway. My first instinct was to run to her, crying and tell of everything that had happened. But I knew better and I didn’t want to employ the rest of my life locked up in a psych ward.
It did occur to me that I could note her, prove it to her like I had to prove it to myself, but I couldn’t do that to her. I was shy as it was and I didn’t need to inflict that on anybody else. Plus, this could extinguish up hurting someone. I had to deal with this on my own.
I promised myself that I would never use this power again.
I wished my walls back to their current colors and laid in my bed, pretending to be asleep, but I didn’t have to pretend for long. I was there until the next morning.
Saturdays were usually the easiest days for me to get out of bed. But not today. Even though I woke up early I did not make myself proceed. I was still a bit freaked out and I wasn’t looking forward to my face in the mirror today or people’s reactions to how different I looked compared to a few days ago.
Eventually I forced myself up before my mom could assume that I was ill. After all, I had been in bed since about four o’clock yesterday. And of course, despite my unwillingness, I went to the mirror.
The trend had continued. I looked better than I had all of the days before except this time, my hair was already done for me, perfect-looking. I wouldn’t even need to throw a brush through it. I woke up looking like a supermodel, ready to strut down the runway.
I wanted to cry. And I did. I bawled and bawled until I realized it was almost noon and my mom had wanted to rob me shopping today. My whimpering ceased, hoping my face wouldn’t be too red. I didn’t want my parents to know I had been crying. They would demand to know what was improper and I didn’t have a lie prepared. But, of course, when I looked in the mirror my face was perfect, without even the slightest trace of my tears.
I began to dress but then abruptly stopped before opening my closet doors. Memories of yesterday flashed across my mind and I realized that I didn’t have to waste time dressing. I could fair will it to happen.
But, I had promised myself that I would not do this. No matter how trivial dressing could be.
My mom was in the kitchen, already pulling things out for dinner. When she heard me enter the kitchen she turned around, looked confused, but then smiled widely.
“Well, it’s no wonder you’ve been in your room all morning,” she began. “You gaze beautiful, honey. I guess you’re ready to go then? “
“Yeah,” I mumbled. I couldn’t say more. In reality, I wasn’t at all excited to go shopping. I had other things to worry about. On the other hand, I needed something to occupy my thoughts and make me feel normal again, so I was glad to have this distraction.
The car ride there was extremely uncomfortable. Normally, me and my mom would talk about everything and anything. But this time was different. I had no intentions of talking. She picked up on my mood and, in response, said nothing back.
When we pulled up to the mall, she became giddy, like a ten-year-old going to buy a new puppy. She always became this way while shopping. It was worse though, because she wasn’t only shopping for herself, but for me as well. She was an oversized child and I was her doll.
We found a nice pink babydoll dress for my party. It was about two hours after arriving that we had done this. My mother had me in and out of stores, dressing me and undressing me. I wasn’t fond of this kind of thing, but it was a distinct distraction. And I really needed a distraction. After, my mother was dead set on me finding a dress for my birthday dinner. She had already found one for herself with ease, but, according to her, nothing looked good enough for “her baby”.
As much as I came her to forget about my so called “luck”, I desperately wanted to be done shopping. Maybe, there could be advantages to wishing for things.
My mom led me into a designer store with an keen look on her face. “I think this is the one,” she began, “We have to salvage something in here.”
Oh, we would find something in here.
I want to find the perfect dress,
Right at that moment, my mother squealed and ran straight to a mannequin wearing a beautiful dinky black dress.
“It’s graceful,” she exclaimed. “Mina, you have to try it on!”
And of course, I did and it was perfect. The dress was slim fitting and covered one shoulder, while leaving the other bare. I didn’t leave the dressing room to show my mother, though. I still felt a little petrified wearing it. I told her it would be a surprise.
I was relieved when we finally returned home, but, ultimately, I was upset with myself. I had broken my promise, used my “luck”.
Guilt momentarily wavered over me before a tall gush of realization. This realization was major, life changing.
What if I was meant to have this power? What if this was a trustworthy thing? Nothing terrible could happen if I didn’t want it to I was in control. And no matter what I would make this a good thing.
I was lucky, definitely lucky.I wished to myself. I braced myself before I opened my eyes. A part of me knew that when I opened my eyes, my walls would surely be a completely different color. I didn’t want to gain that. So, another allotment of me told me to open my eyes to prove that I was being utterly ridiculuous.
.ose to me. But it was quite comfortable, too comfortable. This was new to me. After our last encounter, I had been so nervous. So nervous in fact that I had planned on avoiding him so I would not have to feel that way again. But I didn’t feel that way now. Was this also a unusual part of growing up?
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An old woman was leaning over her 18th floor balcony when a sudden gust of wind blows her off. ‘After all these years,’ she thinks as she plummets, ‘what a way to die.’
As she passes the 14th floor, a man standing at his balcony catches her in his arms. She looks at him unbelievingly. He asks, ‘Do you suck? ‘
‘No,’ she shrieks, aghast.
So he drops her.
As she passes the 10th floor, another man reaches out and catches her. ‘Do you fuck? ‘ he asks.
‘Of course not,’ she spontaneously exclaims before she thinks about it.
He drops her too.
The bad old woman prays for another chance. As luck would have it, a third man on the 6th floor catches her. ‘I suck and I fuck,’ she screams in panic.
‘What. You shameless old slut,’ he exclaims and drops her.
A beautiful, egotistical, young lady who smells of very expensive perfume joins a haggard, old woman in a acquire. She turns to her and arrogantly says, ‘Giorgio Beverly Hills, $100 a gram.’
Another beautiful, posh, young lady gets on the prefer also smells of very expensive perfume. She conceitedly turns to the haggard, stale woman and superciliously says, ‘Chanel No. 5, $150 a gram.’
Three floors later, the haggard, dilapidated woman reaches her destination. Before she gets off, she looks both graceful, snobbish, young ladies in the eye, turns and drops a tremendous, big, rotten, disgusting fart, ‘Broccoli – $4.50 a kilo.’
Priest conducting a scripture class, ‘I’m going to say a word and I want you to impart a hymn which springs to mind.’
‘Age.’
The class sings,
‘Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me cloak myself in Thee;
Let the water and the blood’
From Thy riven side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure,
Save me from its guilt and power.’
‘Cross.’
The class sings,
‘So I’ll savor the old rugged cross,
Till my trophies at last I lay down;
I will cling to the frail rugged cross,
And exchange it some day for a crown.’
‘Grace.’
The class sings,
‘Amazing Grace! How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now I’m found;
Was blind, but now I peep.’
‘Sex’
The class is stunned into silence. They do not know what to do and become nervous and fidgety. Then from the encourage of the class comes the used, tiny and quavering voice of a frail, old lady,
‘Precious memories, unseen angels
Sent from somewhere to my soul
How they linger, ever advance me
And the sacred scenes unfold.
A young man is playing golf, alone. An older man approaches him who asks, ‘may I join you? ‘
The young man, not wanting to be impolite, shrugs his shoulders and says, ‘oh, alright.’
They go ahead, the old man is congenial company and plays a surprisingly skilful game. They come to a tee with a mountainous tree in front of it.
The old man says, ‘when I was your age I conventional to hit golf balls right over that tree.’
The young man braces himself, smarts up, adjusts his stance and as he’s about to swing the worn man says, ‘mind you, when I was your age that tree was 1 meter high.’
An old man is becoming concerned his wife is loosing her hearing. One day he sneaks up behind her. ‘Hello, can you hear me? ‘
No response.
‘Hello, can you hear me? ‘
No response.
He sneaks a little closer and a puny louder, ‘Hello, can you hear me? ‘
‘For the third time, Yes.’ she snaps.
An 80-year-old man finally loses his virginity. He waited for religious and cultural reasons, saving himself for the holy sacrament of marriage. But he failed to marry and was still a bachelor so he had a roll in the hay with a hired prostitute.
Asked, ‘how was it? ‘
‘Fine, but its not as good as a good steak.’
An 80-year-old spinster, still a virgin, leaves instructions for her funeral. Her tombstone inscription is to read, ‘born a virgin, lived a virgin, died a virgin.’ Vandals desecrate her grave with graffiti, ‘Thanks for Nothing.’
An old woman working as a prostitute asks her client, ‘is there anything you cherish? ‘
‘Your daughter.’
‘I’m sorry to hear you buried your mother last week.’
‘Well, we had to you know, she was dead.’
Two veteran ladies reminiscing; one to the other, ‘do you remember the Charleston? ‘
‘My dear, I can’t even remember the men I screwed.’
A long married and still happy elderly couple was reminiscing about the good extinct days. ‘Remember how’d we’d romp around stark naked, we’d go skinny dipping in the river. We were always jay birding inside the house. I (grandma) remember watching you with a huge, erect penis stroking yourself and ejaculating – you could shoot a long distance too. It’d drive me insane when you did that inside me. I’d yell and scream and sail my hair out. We made love for 3, 4 hours at a time with a coffee break in between. Let’s do it again, approach on.’
They purchase their clothes off and sit naked about the kitchen table, her saggy, old tits flopping all over the place.
‘My nipples collected get hot when I see you like this,’ lusts grandma.
Grandpa, ‘no wonder, one of them is in your coffee and the other is in your mashed potatoes.’
The old girl finally dies. She’d been ill for some time so it was expected. But its still tragically felt. At the funeral the pallbearers bump into a wall. A ‘groan’ comes from the coffin, its hurriedly opened and she’s calm alive! The old girl lives another 10 years! This time she dies, at the funeral above the wailing and whining there comes from the congregation a robust warning, ‘watch out for that wall.’
The Prime Minister of Australia is visiting a home for people suffering from Alzheimer’s disease. With a pompous, supercilious, conceited and puffed-up air of self-importance he asks one of the elderly residents, ‘do you know who I am? ‘
‘No, but if you ask at the office and they’ll mumble ya.’ shrills the venerable timer.
Two old soldiers who were former enemies are reminiscing about their WW2 experiences. Each had been severely wounded and highly decorated.
Asked, ‘what did you do? ‘
‘I saw Fritz by the roadside, he yells out, “Winston Churchill is a dictatorial, degenerate, depraved, dilettante and nincompoop.”
Tommo, ‘I yell back, Adolf Hitler is a dictatorial, degenerate, scandalous, dilettante and nincompoop.’
‘So there we were, standing in the middle of the road, getting acquainted and a tank runs over us.’
A decrepit, pathetic mature derelict is scavenging through garbage bins looking for food. He comes across a bottle, opens it and a Genie pops out.
Genie, ‘come on, you know how the fairy tale goes, you have 3 wishes.’
Derelict, ‘I’m hungry, I wish for a sumptuous banquet.’
Poof, and the derelict is in an exquisite dining room surrounded by liqueurs, beer, meat, fish, fruit, vegetables and salubrious platters of delicacies.
Genie, ‘your next wish.’
Derelict, ‘I want to be rich and have lots of money.’
Poof, and the derelict is buried up to his neck in dollar notes and coins.
Genie, ‘Your 3rd and last wish.’
Derelict, ‘I wish I were surrounded by beautiful women.’
Poof, the derelict is turned into a tampon!’
The true of this story; be careful of what you wish for – there may be a string attached.
An elderly bachelor walking along the beach comes across a bottle. He opens it and a Genie pops out.
‘Master, may I grant you any wish, just anything you desire.’
‘Oh, for the joys of domesticity,’ craves the stale bachelor, ‘send me a beautiful woman to be my wife.’
‘Very well,’ says the Genie. A gorgeous, exquisite lady appears beside him.
The randy old coot is ecstatic. He’s eager for a ‘personnel liaison’ to satisfy her.
‘I’m not a virgin,’ she explains.
‘What! How did that happen? ‘
‘In the usual way.’
‘You were sent to me as manna from heaven – you’re supposed to be brand new.’ The Genie, intrusive and presumptuous, pops out, ‘she was sent from the harem and do not see a gift horse in the mouth,’ he admonishes.
An old man marries a much younger woman. A year later she has a baby. The astounded nurse asks, ‘how did you do it? ‘
‘You’ve got to hold the motor running,’ he says.
Nurse, ‘you’d better change the oil, the baby’s black.’
A rich old geezer marries a silly, dilly, little filly. They go to a doctor believing she’s pregnant.
Doctor, ‘let me place it to you this map. A man rushing to go hunting picks up a walking stick instead of his rifle. A wild dog attacks him. He picks up his walking stick, shoots and kills the dog.
‘Impossible,’ says the old geezer, ‘someone else must’ve fired the shot.’
‘Exactly, says the doctor.
An old man hires a prostitute; they make love, he climax’s, they’re satisfied.
An hour later, again, and another hour later, yet again.
Young woman, ‘your libido is terrific, I’ve worked with fellows much younger than you and they cannot perform like this.’
Old man, ‘What, do you mean already I’ve done it.’
An old woman in a retirement home has never behaved immorally in her life. She’d been happily married and that included a good sex life. But she’d only done it with one fellow – her deceased husband. She’d like to do it with another fellow before she dies. With her wrinkled, skinny arm she punches the air with a clenched fist and shrieks at the top of her voice, ‘I’ll have sex with anyone who can guess what’s in my hand.’
A withered, wavering teach shrieks back, ‘a horse.’
‘Close enough,’ shrieks the old woman.
An old man propositions a young girl on the beach, ‘I want to feel your breasts,’ he says.
‘Get away from me you dirty old man,’ she says.
‘I’ll pay you $30.’
The young lady brushes him off, ‘bugger off you filthy old bastard.’
‘I’ll pay your $70.’
Young lady, ‘keep you damned, stinking paws off me you disgusting old ape.’
‘I’ll pay you a $150.’
The young lady considers this, ‘it’s a temptation – why not? ‘ she thinks.
‘Oh all factual,’ and she allows him to unbutton her blouse and feel her breasts.
‘Oh my, oh my,’ he says, ‘oh my, oh my…where I am going to get a $150 from? ‘
One aged man to another, ‘my strength is fading and now my wife beats me.’
‘Oh that’s terrible, how often? ‘
‘Every time we play Cards, Chess, Draughts, Scrabble or even arm wrestle.’
A decrepit old-fashioned man goes to a doctor, ‘in my old age I’ve become an unfavorable, cantankerous, cranky old bastard with a frightening temper.’
Doctor, ‘tell me about it.’
‘I just have you tiring,, unkempt, imbecilic ignoramus.’
Three former women, senile, forgetful and living in a retirement home are dogged by Dementia. One of them starts to undress to consume a shower, then stops, ‘am I getting dressed or undressed? ‘
The second woman decides to go for a walk, then stops, ‘am I coming or going? ‘
The third woman, ‘I’ve had enough of this – write everything down.’
Women inform, ‘it’d be impractical to write everything down. Undress for shower, go for walk.’
Third woman insists, ‘write everything down, now please, cook a meal of meat and potatoes – I’ll write it down.’
‘There’s no need – I’ll remember.’
Dinner smells delicious and is attractively served, ‘you forgot to put the strawberries in the ice-cream,’ third woman says.
Women had surrounded an 80-year-old man all his life; he had sisters in his family. He married early. His wife also had sisters and when they had children they were girls. But it was not truly satisfactory. There were squabbles and disagreements. He cannot say he’d lived a suitable life. He often wished and wondered, ‘what would it be like to be single? ‘ His parent’s die, his wife passes away and some of his sisters and sisters-in-law are now deceased. He’s batching for the first time in his life – and he’s happy! He’s perfectly content doing his own shopping, cooking, washing, sewing and housekeeping. He’s never had it so good and marvels: -
‘Who says broken-down age is for sissies? It’s Great – I wish I’d gotten old-fashioned 40 years ago.’
An old woman totters into a Lawyer’s office, ‘I want a divorce.’
‘A divorce,’ exclaimed the lawyer, ‘and how old are you? ‘
’84.’
‘How archaic is your husband? ‘
’87.’
‘How long have you been married? ‘
’63 years.’
‘Why do you want to divorce after 63 years? ‘
‘Enough is enough,’ says the old woman firmly.
A 90-year-old woman shuffles into a lawyer’s office, ‘I want a divorce.’
The lawyer is aghast; ‘you’ve been married for 66 years, why do you want a divorce now? ‘
‘We waited until the children were dead.’
An elderly man and an elderly woman in a nursing home become close friends.
He proposes, ‘will you marry me? ‘
‘Yes,’ says the old woman.
The next day the old fellow cannot remember her answer. Thoroughly confused and spaced out of his mind he confronts her.
‘Oh,’ she says, ‘I remember saying, “Yes” to one of the fellows but I cannot remember which one.’
Two old men were talking about their sex lives. One man claims his sex life is excellent and he’s still sexually active. The other man admits his sex drive has diminished considerably over the years.
‘How do you conclude sexually active? ‘ he asks.
‘Rye bread, you need to eat lots of rye bread and your sex life will improve dramatically.’
The old fellow goes to buy some rye bread.
‘Would you like it sliced or unsliced? ‘
‘What’s the inequity? ‘
‘When it’s sliced it gets hard faster.’
‘How come everybody knows this but me? ‘
An aged man goes to confession, ‘forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I have consorted with loose women.’
‘Oh that’s terrible,’ says the Priest, ‘dreadful, awful. How do you do it at your age? ‘
‘I’ve worked hard and saved hard all my life, Father,’
‘…And you’re going to squander it on prostitutes? ‘
‘Yes Father, all my life I’ve had these erotic fantasies. I want to satisfy them before my time comes.’
Priest, ‘my son, many worthy charities would make far better use of that money.’
‘I know, Father, but I don’t care, I always get letters from charities asking for money. The other day I got one from a Dementia crowd. They forgot to put my street name on it.’
The Old Gray Mare
Oh, the old gray mare,
She ain’t what she used to be.
Ain’t what she used to be,
Oh, the primitive gray mare,
She ain’t what she used to be,
Many long years ago,
Many long years ago.
Oh, the old gray mare,
She ain’t what she used to be,
Ain’t what she weak to be,
Oh, the ragged gray mare,
She ain’t what she ragged to be,
Many long years ago.
A poor, pathetic, old bugger asks two men for money. One man pokes his snobbish nose up in the air and rudely dismisses him with disgust. The other fellow cheerfully hands over a few dollars and politely concludes, ‘your welcome.’
One man to the other, ‘he’s a despicable derelict, why did give him that? You know he’s going to squander it on cigarettes and booze.’
‘So are we.’
An old man who’d married and divorced several times had a large brood of children.
A caring, compassionate and understanding old woman asks, ‘do you know anything about birth control, family planning and contraception? ‘
She counsels him, ‘buy a big fire cracker, light it, put it in a stubby of beer, hold it to your head and count to 10.’
The old fellow tries it. He holds the stubby with the lighted cracker in it to his head and on his other hand counts his fingers, ’1, 2, 3, 4, 5….’ He then puts the bomb between his legs and continues counting with his other hand, ’6, 7, 8,…’
There’s a novel arrival in a retirement home. A neighbouring couple introduce themselves, ‘Hello, we are.’
New arrival, ‘and what am I retired from, prison. I’ve spent the last 30 years in jail.’
The neighbouring couple are shocked into silence, but eventually ask, ‘what for? ‘
‘I burgled homes and robbed pensioners, assaulted and raped girls, beat up old men and my wife, finally I murdered my family. The judge described me as recidivist, callous and an absolute menace to society.’
Again there’s a panicked silence, when the couple obtain their composure the man turns to his wife, ‘he sounds like the fellow for you.’
Not to be out done his wife retorts, ‘he sounds like the fellow I have been married to for the past 50 years!’
An elderly, childless couple were married a long time but it had not been consummated. Incredibly, they’d never surrendered to each other. They slept in separate beds, were never in the ablution together and were still too embarrassed to be seen naked. It’s ludicrous that after all those years they still had not gotten their act together otherwise they got along very well.
One day she catches him flicking through a Playboy magazine. He points to the centerfold and asks, ‘do you look like this? ‘
She fetches another Playboy magazine, points to a male nude and asks, ‘do you perceive like this? ‘
Your venerable when your aid goes out more often than you do.
A lonely old woman places an ad in a newspaper: -
‘Financially win, mature Australian woman, non-smoker, polite, genteel and with a warm disposition seeks a gratified, contented, affectionate relationship with a gentleman, former 60-80, if a compatible marriage can be arranged.’
There’s a answer, ‘Yes I’m lonely and what have I done with my life. I’ve been in prison for the past 30 years.’
‘What,’ there’s a pregnant end, ‘Good pain! What for? ‘
‘I strangled my 3rd wife with my bare hands.’
‘And your 2nd wife? ‘
‘I slit her throat with a knife.’
‘And your 1st wife? ‘
‘We had an argument and I threw her in front of a train.’
The advertiser is horrified; ‘is this guy for real, is this a joke or what? ‘ she thinks, ‘and what are you looking for in a woman? ‘ she asks.
‘Trust’
A group of senior citizens participate in a public demonstration. None of them have done anything like this before. What a spectacle, a sea of white-haired geriatrics shuffling down the main street with placards, banners and walking sticks – you’ll never see anything like it in your life!
A policeman approaches, ‘what’s this? ‘
‘We’re protesting about cutbacks to aged services, we’ve been reduced to eating grass.’
Policeman, ‘come with me to the station, the grass is a meter high.’
An old woman has 3 adult sons. Each has a profession and each earns good money. One son buys her a lovely, mammoth house. Another son buys her a luxurious car. The next son buys her an expensive talking parrot that can recite the Bible. She writes Thank You notes to each of them.
‘Thank you son for the resplendent, huge house; but its too big. I live in one room and have the entire house to clean.’
‘Thank you son for the luxurious car, but my eyesight is deteriorating and I can no longer drive.’
‘Thank you, son, the chicken was delicious.’
An elderly couple get into financial difficulties. They decide the wife must work as a prostitute. She stands on a street corner and propositions every fellow who walks past, ‘do you want a girl? ‘
‘Yes, but I have no money,’ most fellows respond.
One fellow is interested, ‘and what services do you provide? Impress? A woman of your age, it ought to be interesting,’ he concurs and surprisingly the old girl is apt, erotic and sensuous.
The shameless old hussy then asks for more money.
‘No,’ says the young man firmly, ‘we agreed, its enough, I’ve been generous,’ he slips her a few extra dollars all the same, ‘hungry for the money are you? ‘
‘Thank you and good bye,’ says the cheeky, archaic, coquette.
A prosperous, elderly businessman senses his time is coming. Of course he can’t take it with him so decides to donate it to charity. He searches for worthwhile causes and stumbles across, ‘The Reformed Prostitutes Benevolent League.’
‘Interesting, I didn’t know there was such a thing.’ He phones, ‘…the money, its bloody tight. I miss the income of my former occupation.’
They talk casually about prices and whatever, then the wealthy retiree exclaims, ‘Oh, they must’ve been giving me discounts all these years.’
An obsolete woman is timid and aghast to find her husband in bed with another woman, ‘What…after all these years of marriage…!’
Husband, ‘before you secure hysterical, let me explain. I was driving and she was hitchhiking, we started talking. I bought her home, gave her a meal of the leftovers you forgot. She was bare-foot and scruffily dressed, so I gave her some of your unused shoes and clothes. As she was leaving she asks, “Is there anything else your wife does not use anymore? ”
Three slightly deaf old ladies: ‘Its windy today.’
‘No, its Thursday.’
‘You’d better come in for a cup of tea then.’
An old woman who needs to beget some money decides to work as a prostitute. She advertises in the newspaper, ‘Mature woman, phone…’
The phone rings, her first client and it’s a woman! This is something she did not anticipate, women looking for women, ‘oh, as long as they pay.’
Upon meeting her she’s surprised to find an amiable, professional, young lady. ‘Older women and younger women, never in my wildest dreams did I imagine this!’
‘You remind me of my deceased mother,’ the two women bargain and negotiate a price. ‘I’ll pay you $50.’
‘Its not enough, I’m worth $500, for many a beautiful tune has been played on an old fiddle,’ muses the old woman.
A centenarian reminisces, ‘all my friends are unimaginative, they’re mingling and socializing in heaven, by now they must be wondering if I’ve gone to the other place.’
An old fellow isn’t feeling well and sees his doctor.
Doctor, ‘you have 24 hours to live.’
He tells his wife who asks, ‘is there anything you’d like to do before you die? ‘
‘I’d like to make fancy all night long.’
Wife, ‘I’m sure you would since you do not have to accept up to go to work.’
Helped by medical science, a 65-year-old woman has a baby. Friends and relatives visit and are eager to meet the new addition to the family.
When asked to see the baby, the 65-year-old mother says, ‘not yet.’ They persist but the elderly mum also persists, ‘not yet.’
‘Why on earth not? ‘
Elderly mum, ‘okay, but only when the baby cries.’
‘Why do we have to wait until the baby cries? ‘
‘Because I’ve forgotten where I put it.’
A pathetic, paranoid, browbeaten veteran bugger lived out his life as a petty criminal. The prison Chaplain, a big robust fellow, stands over him and sternly demands, ‘Where is God? ‘
The base and culpable recidivist’s mouth drops originate and he just sits gapping.
Chaplain repeats the question in an even sterner voice, ‘Where is God? ‘
Again the old felon makes no respond.
Chaplain lifts his pronounce even more and menacingly raises his clenched fist, ‘Where is God? ‘ he thunders.
The old villain gives a terrified bawl and bolts from the prison chapel to his cell.
His cell mate asks, ‘what’s the matter? ‘
‘Christ, now I’m in valid shit, God is missing and I’m accused of steeling it.’
A dreadful weak man who’d struggled all his life finally tries the Biblical admonition.
St Matthew 7:7-8, Ask and it shall be given you; seek and ye shall find; knock and it shall be opened unto you. For every one who asks receives, he that seeks finds and to him who knocks it shall be opened.
He asks God, ‘what is a million years to you? ‘
God, ‘To Me, a million years is like one second.’
‘And what is a million dollars to you? ‘
God, ‘To Me, a million dollars is like one penny.’
Oh, then Please, Good God, I ask, I seek and I knock, may I have one of your pennies?
God smiles politely and cheerfully replies, ‘certainly unbiased one second.’
A vain, feisty old woman kneels in the confessional and says, ‘Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.’
Priest, ‘what is it, child? ‘
‘Father, I have committed the sin of vanity. All day long I admire myself in the mirror and tell myself how wonderful and beautiful I smooth am!’
The priest turns, looks and says, ‘My dear, that’s not a sin – it’s a conceited mistake.’
A group of old people from a nursing home are late coming succor from an excursion. Matron is flustered and worried out of her brain!
The first one explains, ‘the bus ran out of petrol so we started walking. One of us died so we called an Ambulance.’
The second one explains, ‘the bus ran out of petrol so we started walking. One of us died so we called an Ambulance.’
The third one explains, ‘the bus ran out of petrol so we started walking. One of us died so we called an Ambulance.’
The forth one begins explaining but Matron interrupts, ‘do not tell me, the bus ran out of petrol so you started walking. One of you died so you called an Ambulance.’
‘Oh no, Ma’am,’ says the forth one, ‘I was leisurely strolling home but there were all these dead old people lying on the road.’
An old man needing hospitalization was taken to a Catholic Hospital where he recovers.
Nursing Nun, ‘your doing find, you can go now. But how are you going to pay? Are you covered by Health Insurance? ‘
‘No.’ he feebly whispers.
‘Can you pay in cash? ‘
‘I’m afraid not, Sister.’
‘Do you have any friends or relatives? ‘
‘I honest have a sister and she’s a spinster nun.’
‘Nuns are not spinsters, they are married to God.’
‘Okay,’ croaks the feeble, old man, ‘then bill my brother-in-law.’
A proudly beaming old man is feeling very smug and satisfied with himself.
‘There you are, I’m not as insensible as I thought I was.’
He spent $10 and bought a 1000 fraction jigsaw puzzle. It’s turned out to be the best thing he’s ever done. The instructions on the box said, ’3-5 years,’ – he did it in a month.
An old man in a retirement home is complaining about his neighbor’s behaviour.
‘He’s got a lady friend who regularly comes and they have fierce domestic arguments. There’s raised voices and the crash, bang, thump of slamming doors, windows, kitchen cabinets and whatever.’
‘Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned,’ The Mourning Bride by William Congreve, 1670-1729.
Women – the cause of all the exertion in the world.
‘What about your mother? ‘
An 89-year man has never been in trouble with the law before. He appears in court charged with indecently assaulting a 17-year-old girl.
Magistrate solemnly asks, ‘How do you plead, guilty or not guilty? ‘
‘Of course I did not do it, Your Treasure, but I’m so flattered I plead guilty.’
An ashen, drawn, haggard old chap asks to be admitted to Heaven. He speaks to Jesus, ‘I’m just a humble carpenter who once had a son. He was born in a unique way and underwent a miraculous transformation. He was outstanding in the world despite having holes in his hands and feet. He was taken from me a long time ago, but his greatness lives forever. People all over the world tell his narrative.’
By this time Jesus is standing with arms outstretched. There are tears in his eyes as he embraces the weak man. ‘Father,’ he cries out in a heart-wrenching voice, ‘It’s been so long!’
The old man squints, stares, his face lights up and says, ‘Pinocchio? ‘
An older married woman is having an adulterous affair with a young man. She hears a car in the driveway and hides her lover and young son in the closet.
Little boy, ‘It’s dark in here, isn’t it? ‘
‘Yes,’ the man replies.
‘Want to assume a baseball and baseball glove? ‘ the little boy asks.
‘No thanks,’ the man replies.
‘I consider you do,’ the slight extortionist persists.
‘OK. How much? ‘ the hiding lover responds, acknowledging his disadvantage.
‘$75,’ the little boy replies.
‘$75!’ the man repeats incredulously, but complies to protect his hidden position and the transaction is completed.
Next weekend the little boy’s father says, ‘Son, go get your ball and glove and we’ll play catch.’
‘I can’t, I sold them,’ replies the little boy.
‘How powerful did you sell them for’ asks the father, expecting an answer in terms of lizards and candy?
‘$75,’ the petite boy answers.
‘$75, that’s thievery! I’m taking you to church right now. You must confess your sin and ask for forgiveness,’ the father explains as he hauls the child away.
At church, the little boy goes into the confessional, draws the curtain, sits down, and says, ‘It’s dark in here, isn’t it? “
The priest replies, ‘Do not start that in here.’
An old man dies and goes to Hell. The devil greets him, ‘you may choose any room you want. Whichever you choose, the person in that room will switch with you. They’ll go to heaven and you’ll take their station until someone else dies and switches with you and so on, now pick a room.’
The devil leads him to the first room where someone is tied to a wall and is being whipped. The second room has someone being burned by a torch. The third room has a man getting blown by a naked woman.
‘I choose this room!’ the man says.
‘Very well,’ the devil walks up to the woman, taps her on the shoulder and says, ‘you can go now, I’ve found your replacement.’
Two old men waiting at the Pearly Gates strike up a conversation. ‘How’d you die? ‘ the first man asks the second.
‘I froze to death,’ says the second.
‘That’s awful,’ says the first man. ‘How does it feel to freeze to death? ‘
‘At first it’s very wretched, you get the shivers then your fingers and toes ache. But eventually, it’s a very calm way to go. You get numb and you drift off as though sleeping. How about you, how did you die? ‘
‘I had a heart attack. I knew my wife was cheating on me. So one day I came home unexpectedly. I ran to the bedroom and found her alone, knitting. I rushed down to the basement. But no one was hiding there. I ran up to the second floor, but found no one there either. I went as fast as I could to the attic. Unbiased as I got there, I had a massive heart attack and died.’
The second man shakes his head. ‘That’s so ironic,’ he says.
‘What do you mean? ‘ asks the first man.
‘If you’d looked in the fridge, we’d both be still alive.’
A young man scans the newspaper looking for a prostitute. He phones, ‘Hello, about the ad, Mature Woman, how old are you? ‘
‘I’m 84, my clients have included 15 year ragged boys and 70 year obsolete men. I’m too old to plunge pregnant. I’m more concerned about the arthritis in my back.’
The young man wants to make love to a genuine grandmother type, ‘I contemplate we can work together,’ and agrees to a price.
They romp, frolic and boisterously bounce about the room. Then the old lady says, ‘time.’
Young man, ‘Oh no, not yet, surely, let’s keep going.’
‘If you want to sustain going it’ll cost you more money.’
He agrees, ‘this is the nicest lovemaking I’ve had. Oh, for the Glories of Old Age. With a felicitous sensation my body is filled with a wondrous glow. On the wings of ecstasy I’m lifted to cloud number nine. Sex is wasted on the young, for the aged are more appreciative. Old age is the golden harvest of life opening ourselves to the light, life and love-giving forces of the Heavens. With the coming of mature age is the acquisition of factual wisdom and time to bask in the glories of past achievements and accomplishments.’
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Filed under nursing class rings by on Nov 5th, 2011. Comment.
Rings have always been symbolic. In high school getting a class ring is a broad deal, a little later in life comes the excitement of an engagement ring and then a wedding band. There are other special rings: promise rings, purity rings, military rings, college rings and even the National Football League has a Super Bowl ring.
But there is only one generation that has a distinct ring of their own – the baby boomers. The “me” generation were the first and only generation to have their own bonafide generation ring. A current thermotropic liquid crystal ring location in silver that changed colors according to the wearers mood. Pretty frosty for an era that also gave us The Pet Rock, The Flying Nun, paper clothing and streaking.
For those lucky enough to be born in the late 1960s through the 1970s mood rings became a prized heirloom. Teenagers who liked to say “like,” wore big hair, lots of clothes and danced the night away to everything from Prince to Guns-n-Roses, often wore mood rings as one of the rare cool tokens from their parents “bell-bottom” generation they liked to snicker at. It was nothing current to gape a mood ring get passed around class rooms and down school halls for people to try on. On any given school day someone would be wearing their best friend’s mother’s or father’s mood ring with repeated instructions not to lose it. The rings had an undeniable power of getting attentions.
It was always interesting to see unprejudiced how the ring would react from one individual to the next. On Kimberly, it would turn a deep mysterious blue, on Jennifer is went from jade to amber but on poor Daniel it never turned anything but black, no matter how he felt. Accurate predictions were a rarity for the ring wearer. It wasn’t uncommon for the wearer to see a color emerge and then blurt out that they weren’t feeling nervous. Yes, the poor mood rings have been accused of being frauds time and time again. No one wanted to believe that it was the ring wearer’s body temperature and not feelings that were changing the color.
For those who may still have a mood ring from their own youth and those who may still have your parents be sure to remind yourselves how lucky you are. Sure, there are vendors out today who sell mood rings but the rings are nothing like the modern. The original mood ring was Victorian styled and oval shaped and to a degree witchy looking, like something Snow White’s evil stepmother would have worn. Those original rings were a symbol of a counterculture that has never been seen since and most likely never will again, a time when materialism was frowned upon, and many young people briefly tried to love and understand one another during one of the most violent eras in United States history.
You never see people walking around wearing mood rings anymore. Young people are attached to their cell phones and iPods. The mood rings were a small source of entertainment but at no cost, cash wasn’t needed to operate them everyday. Maybe that’s another mark on how times have changed because during the 1960s – 1970s races, youth, women and just about everyone fought to be free, to live in freedom. The young people today are ultra-bright but also very materialistic and unbiased for small joys they’re willing to pay cash. Times have changed and in a lot of ways for the better. But why can’t people appreciate the simple luxuries like cheap mood rings anymore?
Determined, cell phones and iPods are fun but they never know how you feel.
Mood ring color key
Black - tense, overworked, stressed, weary.
Silver – nervous, anxieties.
Amber- nervous, excited.
Green- average, calm, not aroused.
Blue- relaxed, still, good mood.
Dark Blue – lovable, very happy, romantic, passionate.
Please note: The above is going by the traditional mood ring color key. Newer mood rings that are mature today have additional colors including red, magenta, orange, yellow and purple.
Of course, the best places to ogle for an authentic mood ring is flea markets, festivals and ebay.
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Filed under nursing class rings by on Oct 22nd, 2011. Comment.
So, you want to be a nurse!
This is a tutorial for those thinking about the nursing profession. I feel as if after 27 years in the nursing profession, I certainly have a point of view, as well as some input when it comes to what it takes to be a nurse. There are ten very important things to take into consideration before you notice up, and jump in, so here goes.
Are you afraid to get your hands dirty?
In other words, do you mind wiping butts, getting in there with wounds that are infected, seeing the unimaginable? Make sure you can handle these things. Take a class as a Certified nurses aide, and work that job for a while. At the very least, it will manufacture you respect the C.N.A. that works under you when you get your degree.
Are you sick at the sight of blood? Do you become nauseated easily and throw up at the drop of a pin?
Are you in it for the money?
The money is good, but it isn’t THAT good. This rings worthy more true if you work for a non for profit agency. There are ways to compose more money, so remember your heart must be in it, otherwise you aren’t much good for anyone.
Speaking about your heart….do you think you can save the world?
Accept the fact that you can’t. Don’t even try. The best we can do as nurses is save a puny fragment of it, for the time being.
Do you want to be in management or middle management?
Just because you have the initials RN or LPN after your name does not qualify you for management. The very worst managers I have had have been nurses. Make certain if this is the course you want to pursue, you take management and business classes as well. It wouldn’t injure to have a degree in both. Management skills very rarely come “naturally”.
Don’t worry that death might effect you cry. If you didn’t cry, you would be far from human. Our job is to provide profitable health care, not to be unfeeling and uncaring robots.
Don’t ever believe you know everything. Learning is a constant process. You may learn something new every day from a patient, another nurse, or a C.N.A.
Always trust and respect your C.N.A. judgement. If they feel as if there is something wrong with a patient, check into it immediately. They are our eyes and ears, and spend countless hours at the patient bedside. They know these patients as well as they know their own children. Listen to them, investigate what they have to say, and allow them input. They are part of a team.
Be a professional. Don’t show up to work tedious, don’t call in without good reason, and dress as if you are there to do a job. Remember the reason you are there, and don’t come to work impaired or hung-over. There is no excuse for that, you know your schedule, drink around it if you must! If wearing whites, remember bleach doesn’t cost all that worthy. Wear your identification. Wear comfortable yet professional shoes. The wrong shoes can cause you a world of assist pain.
Remember nursing can be very tough, very stressful, and very competitive. There are tranquil nurses out there that eat their young. There is no excuse for it, so don’t be a doormat. Remember to never do this when encountering a young new nurse. They have a lot to learn, but remember you don’t know it all, so don’t try to tell them you do.
If after reading this the reality has sunk in and you aren’t sure you are cut out for nursing, explore other opportunities such as social work, x-ray technician, physical therapist, massage therapist, dietician, or another satisfying healthcare career. Nursing isn’t for everyone, but for the special few we unruffled have room for you!!
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Filed under nursing class rings by on Oct 10th, 2011. Comment.