Management Update
Posted on | May 15, 2010 | No Comments
Be advised: Our heroine is indeed a nervous wreck. Any positive energy you could send her way would be greatly appreciated. We would like her not to have a nervous breakdown.
Thank you.
-The Mgt.
Pink Flowers
Posted on | May 15, 2010 | Comments Off
The Dog (pt 14)
Posted on | May 15, 2010 | Comments Off
Doone was worried about his Mistress as she was truly coming unglued by this wedding she had to attend. She wasn’t really fond of social gatherings, especially having spent the last several months cooped up in her room staring out the window feeling sorry for herself. Anxiety alert was on high and Doone was trying his best to do everything possible to make things easier for her. Ironing and polishing was the least he could do, but he just couldn’t seem to convince her that there was nothing to be anxious about and that she’d look beautiful in the dress with ruffles. He couldn’t convince her that black was acceptable at weddings here on the East Coast. She was brought up it was inappropriate, or bad luck or something. (Just not done in California where she was from.) She was pale and convinced she’d look like a vampire. Vampires were the rage these days so perhaps she’d look lovely in that regard.
Doone watched her as she ran around the house looking for this and that, having procrastinated but being good at it, so she accomplished her tasks one by one in a hurry. She hadn’t even tried the ruffled dress on again since its purchase and wasn’t even sure it still fit. She had very little time (an hour) to find another so for her sake he hoped it did. He hoped that she felt beautiful in it despite her initial reservations and that she could walk in with confidence. His goal had always been to help her feel better about herself. This was not an easy task. She was proving to be quite difficult.
He didn’t dare stop her as she flitted about the house, though he wanted to offer an opinion on her make up, he wasn’t sure it would be received well. She didn’t have to go the undead route, she could soften it up a bit with pastels. She’d never listen to him. She was still having trouble with the fact he could iron.
He wished he could accompany her, to assure her that everything would be ok, but that would be impossible. He was under orders from The Worm Guy to accomplish his task. He wondered where The Worm Guy had gone off to, last he knew he was visiting the Art Teacher and hadn’t been heard from in a while. Hmmm…
Management Update
Posted on | May 14, 2010 | Comments Off
Be advised: Our heroine is currently coming unglued preparing for the rehearsal dinner which, in fact, is rehearsing nothing (!) except maybe the “party” aspect of the wedding she will be attending tomorrow. She is unable to write at this time. Doone is, however, taking care of the ironing and other assorted tasks making things much easier for her. Now if she can just figure out which pill to take to keep her mouth under control, all will be fine.
Thank you for your understanding.
-The Mgt.
The Sewing Machine
Posted on | May 12, 2010 | Comments Off
She had passed by the box containing the brand new sewing machine for months. She just couldn’t bring herself to open it and get started. It was much fancier than the one she had owned previously, and it had been years since she’d sewn anything. She “had” to have it and when she got it she ran out and bought fabric and thread and other assorted items and then promptly stacked them in a corner to sit collecting dust.
The time had finally come that she would open the box and she did very carefully. She was surprised at how little the machine weighed compared to the older machines. Guess they don’t make them like they used to. It had buttons and an LED display. In the scheme of things, this could be a good thing, or a bad thing. More to go wrong. She placed it neatly on the table and took out the manual. She decided this would not be a toy she plugged in first and asked questions later. She read carefully through how to wind a bobbin and thread the needle. She marvelled at the stitch options and capabilities of the machine. This ought to be fun.
She ran her hands over the fabrics and carefully placed the thread in the container she had purchased admiring the colors she had selected all those months ago. She looked everything over, and then proceeded to pack the machine up in the carrying case she purchased for it, never having even turned it on.
She went upstairs and considered what she could potentially make out of the selected fabrics and many buttons and trims she might have laying around the house. Only time would tell how long it would be before she touched the machine again. She was sure it would be an adventure when she did.
The Dog (pt 13)
Posted on | May 12, 2010 | Comments Off
She woke up early, frustrated she couldn’t stay lost in dreamland for a little while longer. The smell of breakfast wafted up from downstairs and her curiosity got the best of her and she put on her robe and fuzzy blue slippers and went down to explore.
On the table was a breakfast fit for a Queen. Bacon and eggs, toast, hash browns, and orange juice sat on the properly set table complete with cloth napkin and a flower in a vase. Everything was still hot and she sat down to eat as Doone walked up with a grin.
“Enjoy your breakfast Mistress” Doone said with a smirk.
“Um, thank you, how did you….nevermind, thank you.”
She was hungry and ate as if she hadn’t eaten in weeks and it was good. She finished up quickly and did all the dishes, a small price to pay to have breakfast waiting for her when she came down.
She let Doone out and watched the squirrels eat out of the neighbor’s bird feeder as the birds dive bombed trying to get their own chance at the bird food originally intended for them. It was quite the amusing site actually.
She wanted to talk to Doone, to know more about him and his, um, abilities, but she figured he would share in his own good time. She was still trying to figure it all out in her head, and maybe it was best she didn’t know. This was all getting a bit too outrageous for even her wacky mind.
She curled up on the couch and thought about what she had to do today. A trip the the library, a trip to the mall for some pantyhose. Maybe a trip to get something special for Doone, although she wasn’t sure what. Dog treats seemed the wrong answer. Something from the gourmet food section might be more appropriate.
It was chilly today…she’d definitely have to pick a hat to wear out on her errands. Something fun and artsy. She was definitely addicted to hats now. Guess there were worse things she could be addicted to.
Maybe she could get a few more winks before she officially started her day. . .
Hat addict
Posted on | May 11, 2010 | Comments Off
She was going to need a 12 step program for her hat addiction. She wondered what deeper significance this held, her need to purchase new hats at an alarming rate. She was going to single handedly keep Threadmill in business at the rate she was going.
She thought her latest find was adorable and she already knew exactly what she’d wear it with. Retail therapy was always big for her, a little too big perhaps. But she loved the shop and the wonderful lady behind it, so it was worth every penny.
The Dog (pt 12)
Posted on | May 11, 2010 | Comments Off
She spent most of the day doing nothing productive…staring out the window…reading a magazine…browsing online but not buying anything. Her head and neck were hurting and her heart was aching but there wasn’t much she could do about either having taken something for pain and finding it didn’t work anyway. The gloomy weather took its toll on her neck every time it arrived and she just had to deal with it. (She just had to deal with a lot a things it seemed.)
Doone had obviously been taking care of himself though he must be crazed having to eat dog food. (She also imagined it smelled pretty bad down there because it always gave him gas.) She did, however, wonder how he’d gone so long without going out, so she went downstairs to check on him.
“Need to go out boy?” she said with about as much enthusiasm as a houseplant.
“I took care of it myself” he said with a grin.
“Oh god, where did you pee, you didn’t pee in this house somewhere did you?”
“No, of course not, I let myself out” he snorted.
“How on earth did you do that?”
“I told you, I’m a very unusual dog. I almost made us lunch, but I wasn’t sure if you were up to eating anything.”
And with that she stared at him as if she had seen a ghost or just heard the most preposterous thing imaginable. She realized of course that anything is possible in her world, being as though she is a little nuts and she does have a talking rottweiler living with her, but this kind of took the cake.
“You almost made us lunch?” she said weakly, more as a statement than a question.
“Yes, I actually went to culinary school.”
And with that Doone went into the livingroom, lay down on his bed under the skylight and curled up for a nap. . .
The Dog (pt 11)
Posted on | May 11, 2010 | Comments Off
Doone sat in the sun shining in from the skylight. He knew his mistress was not feeling well and wished he could do something to help. He rolled onto his back and let the sun shine down on his tummy wishing she was there to pet him. But she was up in bed waiting for something.
Upstairs she lay in bed still waiting, frustrated, staring out the window. She sighed. It was hard to believe it was the seven year anniversary of her little brother’s fatal car accident. She lit a candle in his memory. She wondered if he was in a better place, or just no place at all.
She was having trouble accomplishing much of anything this week. She wasn’t sure if it was her medication, the stress of the wedding she was going to and the fuss of wearing of the “ruffle dress”, or just the general stress of life that was getting to her, but something was eating her up. Something was nagging at her, bothering her. She was waiting. What was she waiting for?
Her mind thought of Mulysa for a brief moment and the sheer terror of going back to that Asylum had her frightened. Was she waiting for Mulysa to have some one come pick her up? Was she waiting to be committed herself? She didn’t want to see those tile walls again. She didn’t want to think about the man mopping the walls, and what he might be mopping off of them. She didn’t want to be locked in, looking out at the beautiful old oak tree, and the lovely park benches, the bird baths, and the neatly manicured flower beds.
She pushed those thoughts aside and went back seven years to the phone call that her brother was dead. He’d been the passenger in a car accident, a friend driving too fast, two boys gone way too soon. A funeral full of adoring friends and family, she became weak in the knees at the sight of his blue casket. She wanted to open it, to see him and to say goodbye but it would not be allowed. She should have insisted. To this day she still wishes she had seen him, no matter what condition he was in. She could have handled it. She’d seen worse. She needed that closure. Now he is forever riding clouds on his snowboard in her mind.
Doone lay downstairs knowing his Mistress was in miserable shape. He didn’t want to be a bother so he let himself out. . .
In Loving Memory of Joshua 1984-2003
Waiting…
Posted on | May 10, 2010 | Comments Off
She sat anxiously waiting. The problem was, she wasn’t sure what she was waiting for. She didn’t think it was as simple as the mail delivery, although she was indeed waiting for some things to be delivered. Something bigger was coming, but she didn’t know what it was, and it was driving her bonkers.
“Is this just anxiety?” she wondered to herself…or was there something she was actually waiting for? She couldn’t help but get a gloomy (paranoid) feeling that something awful was going to happen. Perhaps maybe not awful, awful. Maybe just somewhat awful. Awful enough? Whatever the case. Something was BUGGING her. She was waiting for something!!!
She thought about potential things and quickly changed the subject in her mind before she spun herself out into complete la la land. An alien abduction would be an interesting side trip for the day. Perhaps something like THAT was coming. Wouldn’t that be just wonderful? Preferably some pleasant, good looking humanoid alien taking her for a spin in his space ship. She thought back to what Stephen Hawking had said about intelligent extraterrestrial life definitely being out there. Perhaps she was NOT the one they should be talking to. She hated politics for one. She tried to be environmentally friendly but admits she did throw away a soda can recently. She was not a shining example to be a representative of Earth. She was nuts.
She thought about the radio station yesterday that had random beeping signals sent out that at first could be mistaken for covering up a swear word in a song but then if you knew the song, you knew there was nothing to cover up. She thought for sure it was a message to someone else. Maybe it was her ride after all. . .what would she wear? ? ? When was it coming? ? ?
So what was she waiting for?
Hello out there
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