Avant-garde

I was there approximately thirty minutes before closing time with my paint splattered jogging suit and a borrowed 3 doors VW that have seen better times. The receptionist gave me a look that said it all which I could understand under the circumstances but couldn’t resist hating her anyway. She probably was thinking the same thing.

I ask specifically for a certain person and I could see that she was having a second thought if I was worth the effort. When she realized that I had no plan leaving the establishment she did what I bade her to do, very much against her will.

When the person I sought appeared at the reception, he either wore a poker face or really didn’t care about my for the moment unpleasing countenance. Blessed him.

He led me to his glass office overlooking the whole showroom. Because of his (un)natural manner towards me, I didn’t feel awkward walking next to his Hugo Boss-clad figure. Then he said:

“Which do you prefer?”  And I answered immediately: “It depends.”

He right away understood but search in his computer anyway. 

Before I drove to the place, I set my heart on the Elegance Line of C-class (C220 Cdi Estate latest model) in sanidine beige or cubanite silver metallic, with eucalyptus wood paneling etc. etc. full option including tow hook; but he said “I’m sorry but not in our stock- it would take 5 to 6 months to order- I understand you need it right away- let’s see what I can do for you- we only have avant-garde series in titanium silver or obsidian black metallic- wait a minute there is one still in tanzanite black- titanium you said? Ok, but smaller GPS only shows points and arrows while the one in black shows the whole map of Europe.”

What choice I’ve got? What followed was the usual tiring tour around the showroom and even boring spin around the block but___ I’m still not convinced.

You see, avant-garde series have logos the size of a dinner plate smack right on the front not to mention the grille and the rims! I prefer the traditional bonnet-mounted badge for a more conservative look. They can forget the leather seats covering too for the smell of leather makes me puke!

After so much and very long discussion, he and I were both anxious to be on our way so he decided to offer me a change of grille, badge, and rims. I said I will believe it if he could put it in black and white. In which he replied: “No prob, it is only a 30 minutes job.” How could I refuse? We shook hands on 2 to 3 weeks delivery time including administration and extras.

Today is Thursday. He gave me a reserve to go around from the A-class till next Friday. Then he will provide me another for the remaining week(s)

I realized I could have done worse…

I wish it’s already Monday, delivery day.

images: nigel tomm

Writing 101: Don’t stop the rockin’

The Happy Wanderer

“A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving.”
~ Lao Tzu

dailyprompt

The Shire

The girl/woman came to our village out of nowhere. “Just passing by.” She said. “Very beautiful place.” She added. Then she forgot to go away and stayed.

I cannot understand. First of all, there was nothing beautiful about our place, all mountains, there was no proper roads, no electric and there were not so many houses, only fifty-seven. All of the inhabitants were closely related to each other, either by blood or by marriage. That’s why young men like my brother Carlos and my cousin Arnold (he’s not really a cousin-cousin but related by marriage. His uncle married my aunt) if they want to court girls, they had to walk few kilometers to the nearest village to find suitable candidates.

Second: you cannot “just pass by” our place, you have to travel at least eighteen hours to reach the nearest town, then another hour to get to the bus stop plus an hour of walking to ended up here. Walking is a must for no vehicle dared to negotiate the bumpy, often muddy undulating series of paths that leads to our doors. A waste of time I heard them said. Only the cranky old jeep of our neighbor’s Ben had the courage to travel back and forth. But it was mainly for delivering necessities to the people; mostly heavy things like sacks of rice, a new tv or building materials. But even Ben refused to come when it’s raining, and in our place it was always raining. That’s why I didn’t believe when she said she ended up in our village by accident, but everyone did.

She just arrived one day alone, dragging a funny suitcase with wheels asking where she can pass the night. All the people came out to see. Visitors were rare if not unseen in our neighbourhood. Only during fiesta, New Year or Christmas time we suffered guests. Those who came to visit were mostly the ones that used to live in our village and only there to celebrate the season with their families. Sometimes, they brought friends with them but they never stayed for so long; they get bored, my mother said. I had no idea what getting bored was, I guess I never get bored because I didn’t want to go away.

We were playing ball when she turned up. Me, my brothers and my cousins, we all stopped what we were doing to gape at her. To me, she looked okay. She wore some sort of pants that looked weird to me in every angle, kind of small around her thighs and behind but wide around the legs. The colour was not right either. Seemed to me she had it for ages because it was old and there were some holes in it. She had light blue spaghetti top on which showed her belly button and some funny sneakers they’re not like mine; hers had Himalaya heels. She had a jacket with her but she’s not wearing it. It was tied around her middle instead.

Long, very straight hair, not so tall, I can see she’s not fat but there was nothing special about her, just a person. But why my brothers and my cousins mouths were hanging open, and they didn’t hear me talking to them. They just kept looking at the girl.

My mother invited her in. When she passed by, a whipped of pleasing smell enveloped us and it stayed after she’s long gone. I think she took a bath quite often.

My parents decided to rent her my Cousin Nick’s cottage. It was the only available place that time along with my brother’s house. He and his wife who has just given birth to their first child were temporarily living with us, but Papa said they will be going soon any day now. My mother didn’t get along so well with my sister-in-law. Papa said who can get along with my mother anyway?

Cousin Nick was about to get married soon. His wife-to-be Mary Rose was three months pregnant already but the exact date of their wedding was not yet clear. Their respective parents cannot decide what kind of wedding the two was going to have. The family of Mary Rose wanted a wedding fit for a queen but Nick’s parents were not agreed (since by tradition they have to shoulder the cost of everything) they said that her side had no right to demand whatever since their daughter was already sealed and sold and a wedding was only a formality so, they have to be grateful for the offer instead. In the meantime, the belly of Mary Rose was getting bigger and bigger each day sometimes I believed it was going to burst open.

Why they cannot just marry themselves, Mary Rose and Cousin Nick? Why they had to wait for other people to decide? It’s their life anyway. If I were them, I will do exactly what I want; only I was not planning to get married when I grow up. I didn’t like the idea of living with someone who is not even a family day and day out. And I have to feed her too! No, I like being alone. I can do what I want, when I want and how I want it. Keeping cows was better than having a wife. Cows you can leave them grazing outside when they hungry and forget all about them. You can even exchange them for a lot of money. You cannot do that to a wife. That’s why I will not marry when I’m big. Not even if the girl looks like the one who just arrived.

To be continued…

Reply To Writing 101: Hone Your Point Of View

Magical Creatures

When the full moon happens, you turn into a person who’s the opposite of who you normally are. Describe this new you.

Ah, you probably think you already know which creature I will turn into but no, I will not be a vampire. Yes I’m insomniac with the taste for anything Gothic, I am aware that my writings and blog page are both leaning towards the dark side, I also believe in paranormal and had some encounters with the unknown but no, no vampire this time. Though if I am being totally honest, I must admit that was my first choice but I quickly changed my mind because I am also convinced that there are other worlds exist aside from this one and there are portals to enter them or they can come visit us. Ever heard of Tír na nÓg?

I do believe in fairies too, I do, I do. And witchcraft, in magic, The Borrowers and Autobots. I believe they truly exist along with other magical creatures. If I could I would like to turn into a kick-ass fairy, a she-wolf, a good witch, Demeter, Artemis, Mars… there are endless possibilities. But if I am to choose just one that would be Athena, the goddess of wisdom, courage, inspiration, civilization, law and justice, mathematics, strength, war strategy, the arts, crafts, and skill.

Need I say more?

images: atistatplay

just another day in paradise

Every day it is always the same sad story.

• No, there is no boogey guy hanging outside your bedroom door waiting for you to fall asleep so he can attack you when you are unaware and most vulnerable.

• No, there is no Ju-On under your bed, in the closet or behind doors either.

• No, it’s impossible for a dead body to end up in your tub and miraculously comes to life the moment you sit on the loo to pee.

• No, ghost of dead mother cannot travel from one continent to the next to visit you and her corpse will not materialize in bed in one of the guest rooms.

• No, Danny Glick is not hanging outside your bedroom window suspended in the air; he’s safely back in Salem’s Lot.

• And oh, all those funny noises you are hearing… they are not arach-bots slowly climbing up inside the pipes on their way to your bedroom to smother you while you are sleeping. It’s just the radiators, the boiler, the stairs that are settling in because of the difference in temperature. Houses make noises, it’s perfectly normal.

• The scratching sounds are birds’ feet in the rain gutter. And the knocking on the roof is another bird trying to crack a nut against the outside wall of the chimney.

It’s true. You have seen it yourself, didn’t you?

• No, bad guys will not single out your house upon given times to do their unspeakable deeds simply because you live there all alone. They will not break in and override the alarm installation to torture you for fun simply because they can.

• No, they will not jump over two sets of fences to catch you by surprise while you are gardening and hurt you for no reason at all.

• There is nobody in the garage either, or in the utility room, or in your dressing. And if the curtains are not drawn and you accidentally put on the lights inside… there is no psycho stalker watching your house monitoring your every move. Your house is supposed to be your haven.

• You supposed to feel safe in there not outside in the streets or public places like you always wanted to believe. Stop it! Just stop it! For your own good please do. What will happen will happen anyway. No use worrying about it. You believe in destiny, don’t you? You know that life is pre-destined and there is nothing you can do about it. You will arrive at your destiny no matter what. You can detour, you can choose to do it the hard way or the easy way, but arrive there you will. So, why not just put your faith in God and enjoy the ride.

These things I keep telling myself every day. Sometimes it works, oftentimes not…

Reply To Writing 101: Your Personality On The Page

Menagerie

Do you have animals in your life? If yes, what do they mean to you? If no, why have you opted not to?

I once had a couple of birds (I believe they are parakeets in grey-blue, yellow and green colours) my ex-let them out in the middle of the winter during one of his episodes. He flushed my goldfish (the contents of my whole aquarium in fact) in the toilet as well. My son had two cats named Dulce and Snooze. Their story you can read here. We had giant rabbits I remember. I didn’t know that they can turn the entire lawn brown by just urinating on the grass. They consume everything in sight too. In the end, my ex-took out their eyes out and let them bled to death hanging on the washing line. He cooked and ate them afterwards. Which reminds of the time he gassed kittens in a ton at the back of his truck and told my son he brought them to the animal shelter. An appealing guy my ex. A real sweetheart. And oh, my son brought a yellow baby duck one time from the fare. I blinked and when I opened my eyes the cute fluffy bird was gone and in its place, there was this huge male duck that devoured plants and swallowed fish from the pond. My ex-decided to let it loose in the canal somewhere. Devastated, my son put a green bow around his neck to differentiate him from the other ducks. I wondered what happened to that bird.

I guess I don’t need to explain further why I decided not to have pets again. Too much good memories…

H3

“He shall be kept alive to always remind me of how close I came to danger.”

 (Queen Elizabeth)

You contacted me yesterday. I was surprised. After almost eight years. There are millions of things that happened. You told me.

You fell in love. Head over heels you said. Your femme fatale, that’s how you described her. You sent me the picture of the two of you together. I saw a couple of things there. First: she doesn’t look like it. But who am I to say? Second: You’ve changed! Hardly recognizable. Only the blond hair and the blue of your eyes remind me of the person I used to know.

Lost weight again, I noticed; which seems a pattern every time you are embarking on a new relationship. Not that you need to shade some extra pounds. You look okay.  Always been. In fact, too good. A right combination of alpha traits and vulnerability with baby blue eyes and a very sharp and creative mind to match, qualities that supposed to attract me on papers; only I don’t like blue, and on papers, everything looks good.

You see, I may be weird on papers and sometimes in reality too; but my oddness does not stretch to handcuffs or ropes, a paddle or a whip, and probably leather outfits and masks. No, thank you. My idea of fun does not include being tied up (even with a velvet rope) or torture (even with feathers) or humiliated (for a kick) or be dominant (for the sake of God knows what) it’s simply not my thing.

What a pity. Aside from that, I could see us together; and apparently you too because you say you are willing to throw away all your gadgets for me. In theory_ possible, but in practice_ unbelievable. It is difficult to hide one’s true nature. It will come to the surface sooner or later.

After the initial euphoric state of being in love is over, and the novelty had worn out; I wonder if you would not be tempted to go back to your old habits. That risk I cannot take.

You went on telling how it had been for you.  How you chose to go headlong into disaster. You said you were aware of how a fool you are right from the beginning. I didn’t expect that. Shocked and disbelief was written all over my face. If you could only see me.

I guess I was wrong about you. I told you that too. I said I had another idea of the person. Now, that is gone also.

You were always drawn to difficult women I said.

“Remember, I was drawn to you too.”  That was your answer.

Then you go on telling me how I hurt you, hurt D. and myself as well. I am not aware I was hurt and when did it happen.

When you were on your way to get me to go to the film festival and D called you.

The two of you had an argument over the phone; you told him he’s isolating me. That’s when it happened you said.

I remember that.

We had to pull over to the side of the road because he was beside himself. That’s why I decided to stay.

It hurts being stood up, you insisted.

That’s maybe true, but not enough to get a tattoo. The situation didn’t allow you to, you said. That’s BS! We both know it.

I sent you my recent photos. You asked for it. Thinking I’m maybe pregnant? It’s impossible. Didn’t I tell you? I can’t remember.

I threw in a couple of shots of me and D. Why? No idea.

We look so in love. That was the comment. I told you I could fake. You didn’t buy it.

Your relationship is over. You don’t love her anymore. Another BS! Love is not water that you can wipe off easily when spilled and will be dry in seconds. Now, I am the one who’s not buying it. Either you are fooling me or yourself. It could be both.

Anyway, I’m glad you did. Contacted me I mean. Now I could let go of my ideas of you and the ‘what could have been.’ Now I know I didn’t miss something. Nothing special slipped through my fingers. At least now, I could probably sleep better… now, that it’s over… the fantasy is over.

And the box…  I’ll hang onto it. To remind me of how hard you tried to pave your way into my heart (and into my pants) to keep me sober when I need/want to… run away and try something new. And as Elizabeth had once said: “To always remind me of how close I came to danger.”

Reply To Writing 101: Third Time’s The charm

Here Is Part One And Part Two 

 

Blurb

We’ve been asked to write the blurb for the book jacket of the book we would write, if only we had the time and inclination. Here is what first came to mind. Forgive the chaos. I’m tired and feeling lost somehow after walking for more than twelve hours two days in a row. Here it is…

“She’s back!” Michael uttered to himself over and over again in disbelief. Who could have guessed that she would be back? No one! Not even him. Although God knows how much he had hold on to that single thread of hope as if his own life depends on it.  No matter how impossible and elusive it may seem, he kept on hanging, believing with all of his heart that one day this moment will come. And there she was__ in flesh and blood, not part of his dream or imagination. How many times he envisioned this meeting? He lost count already. Now she’s finally here standing before him wearing her familiar smile, the one he had fallen hard for five years ago; and the memories came rushing in. In his mind, it was raining again and he was sitting in the porch of a friend’s house attending his sister’s birthday party when suddenly a Honda Dax surged out of nowhere and stopped in front of him, atop the bike was a girl so sexy and gorgeous his world stopped from turning. And it had been like that for five years. Now she’s back and he can start living again…

How’s that? Good enough?

dailyprompt

Motion

“When your action is gone, and all that’s left is motionlessness, I’ll be there, whistling.”

~ Jarod Kintz

 Motion

Hot & Spicy

Do I love hot and spicy foods or do I avoid them for fear of what tomorrow might bring?

What can I say… my ethnic origin, culture, background and upbringing made me a lover of anything hot and spicy (wink, wink) add to it the fact that my father came from a place in the south well-known for its spicy dishes the people there literally cook chilies as vegetables… then you have the perfect scenario.

Afraid of what tomorrow might bring? You must be kidding… I have ulcer since I was sixteen years old. A doctor once told me that if I don’t change my eating habit there will come a time that I will not be able to digest solid food. He advised me not to eat oily, sour, salty hot and spicy food; in short… eat nothing but bland concoction.

No can do. We only live once (though some people say we live each and everyday and only die once which I must admit there is some truth in there) I might as well make the most of it. Life is too short to eat tasteless food. That’s it.

Travelling backwards

For hours I’ve been racking my brain to come up with any annual fair, festival, or conference that would cause me heartbreak if it would be cancelled forever, but I cannot come up with any. Not that I have never been to one of those because I certainly did. But the ones that I’ve been to, I still deeply regret attending, so much so that a mere suggestion of going to such events can send my brain into instant panic. I’m sure those experiences incurred some considerable damage in my fragile disposition. Of course I am only joking.

The truth is I hate crowds, and I hate noises. But what I hate the most is: having to pay to be in the middle of it.

On the other hand, there were some establishments I wish still exist.  Like that wonderful tearoom in town which served delightful scones and special teas I could go there every day if I can. There was also a trendy brasserie next to the plant center I often visited in the past that offered divine coffee with all those delicious trimmings. They are closed now, gone; never to be back again. The only reason I could think of why it had happened is: people no matter what they say are not yet ready for changes. They rather embraced inferior whatever in exchange for familiarity. The quote: “People fear what they don’t understand and hate what they can’t conquer.” Comes to mind but I’m not sure if it’s appropriate in this case. All I know is those places I mentioned… they had one thing in common; they were ahead of their time. And being fashion- forward in a small town is a risky thing to do.

Shampoos, deodorants, soaps… there were some that I would like to see again but unfortunately they are now phased-out. Jurassic style mobile phones, I love them too. They are user-friendly and fit in the pockets. But high-tech is the new norm these days, the more complex the gadgets the better and they are not even pocket-friendly. 

Oh, and River Phoenix , I love for him to be alive today. Boy, that guy had real talent. Not the I-look-good- who-cares-about-talent-as-long-as-I-can-read-and memorized-the-script sort of talents (tempted, but I will not mention names in order not to offend some sensitive fans out there) we see more and more these days.  River Phoenix had depth and can convey range of emotions without being in your face. Think about My own private Idaho, Dog fight and Running on empty. But I guess he was not happy with himself (and probably with people around him) because he’s dead now. Just another Hollywood accident. Which reminds me of a very talented young woman who died very recently (no, not Peaches G.) Amy Winehouse. Back to black is a masterpiece if you ask me. But who am I to judge? Like I said, I know nothing about music and whatever I’m saying is subject to a debate but please, not now and not here. Maybe some other time.

Another thing I wish didn’t go out of fashion is vinyl. I remember seeing a compact disc for the first time it was so small and shiny it scared the hell out of me. So much so that I didn’t touch it for two years. After that, I had no choice anymore.

The first single I bought from my baby-sitting money was ‘Through the years’ by Kenny Rogers. The only song in my repertoire that is not connected to any memories aside from that was my first of the only two vinyl I personally owned. I don’t have them anymore now.

But the thing I would mostly want to be back in fashion is the jukebox. Lord that would be a blast. There used to be one in every restaurant in my town. Me and my contemporaries spent every single penny of our pocket money playing that thing. It was so wonderful to watch the mechanical arm of the jukebox unfold and reach out, hovering above the collection, going slowly back and forth. I imagined its slight hesitation as if thinking, then the arm will suddenly drop down and finally select one single to play, and then it will raise itself up again holding the chosen item and will drop it carefully on the turn table. After a while, you will hear your favourite song playing in the air.

Those were the days…

The perfect road

I am not a soft country road,

I am a long hard highway,

I’m not your true love,

But your amusement of the day,

I am not your fellow traveller,

I am the road you pound,

I am not your blue-sky heaven,

I am the darkening clouds,

I am not the gentle grass,

I am the tall dead wheat,

See you give me false compliments,

And love incomplete,

I am not the gorgeous scenery,

I am the barren ground,

You tear me like tires tear grass,

Leaving wasteland all around,

You say I’m a roadside flower,

Wild and perfect, with not a rip,

But I’m just another pebble,

You run over along your trip,

I am not the sun that warms you back,

I am the rain that hits your hood,

You say I am your perfect light,

But you misunderstood,

I know I’m not your gentle trip,

For you never mean what you say,

So just stop calling me the perfect road,

And watch me drive away…

~ not mine

Dearest

Dearest,

I do not know what to say….lately it seems we do not have much time for each other. I believe it is my fault as much as yours or perhaps circumstances have also a hand in the matter. What I’m trying to say is that I miss you greatly. I want to feel connected to you. I hate to think that our relationship might already be showing flaws here and there at this early stage. If that is the case, how would it be after a couple of years? I don’t dare to imagine!

You could perhaps understand my concern regarding this matter if, like me, you also allowed yourself to dwell on the future from time to time. Perhaps it is my restless nature that always brings me to this idea. Indeed you are probably right when you mentioned about my familiarity with a certain situation which makes me worrisome. Dare I say I’m scared? I’ve been told before that if certain things keep happening for so long, you kind of expect it.

Why must I feel afraid always? Why I cannot be just like the most of us? Must I always believe that I am not worthy of any love, or kindness? Not even compassion? How I long to be ordinary for those are the happiest of beings.

Was I born in a certain era, I am truly convinced that they would burn me at the stake by just being different. Truly as you have witnessed dozens of times already that indeed I have this gift (or curse) of foretelling and I do possess uncommon behaviour, which only once witnessed in asylums. As if that is not enough, it seems that I was born in the wrong family as well. But that notion I don’t wish to further entertain and if I could I want to forget about it altogether. Ah, the kind of thoughts I’m having in my head sometimes!

Dearest, I don’t know if I will ever feel worthy of you for you are such a fine example of a perfect gentleman. Though you have your shortcomings and weaknesses like any man and from time to time you inclined to test my patience but it does not make you none the less capable and attractive in my eyes.

I for one will always think of you as sweet and forever hold you in highest regards against your contemporaries whom I cannot find a single decent word in my limited vocabulary to describe their general conduct, so I am confined to be silent about it.

I would like very much to believe that I am indeed lucky that you bestowed upon me your undivided attention and lavish me with all the comforts you can afford. How I wish I could be certain about your devotion as well. Though you never give me reasons to think otherwise and yet still I get this ungrounded feeling from time to time that you might…perhaps…oh, it is my doubtful nature again which always make me ill to the core of my bones.

Even though it is surely nothing but just some fragments of my imagination, to me it is real enough to keep me from being merry and robbing me of my night rest. For I am truly certain that one of these glorious days, you will wake up and find me a tiresome nobody not worth a backward glance, and you will discover the truth I keep telling you that I am truly not wonderful nor special and there are some fine young lasses out there who are more suited to you and your needs.

Am I out of my mind? Perhaps! Am I fortunate? No doubt! For I am aware that so many maidens will give their treasured belongings and indeed their virtues just to imagine themselves in my position. And that Sir, I am certain!

So, do forgive me from time to time if I am being silly and not agreeable to it is only my nerves which I am sure would settle the moment I carry your name.

 

Will remain your affectionate,

Wife-to-be