Random Tweets

These are random tweets from my Twitter (@wicked_roses). I hope you enjoy my zaniness.

April 2011
"I finally got a Twitter. Is it normal to feel like I just sold my soul to the Devil? Because that is totally what it feels like right now."

 "A vampire's kiss to resurrect her, a wicked kiss to seduce her. Lost in the tapestry of love and lust, a dagger soaked in blood."

"I want Starbucks. And not to have to go to work... just sayin'."

"Dreamt that I was listening to music by the Beatles with Ringo Starr. I think that is going on my bucket list."

"I am going to be lost in a Korean music kick... Don't send the search dogs, I'll be fine!"

"The Vampire watermelon pushed against the poor girl, kissing all the way up her neck until it had reached the apex of her anatomy."

"The line "Esc-a-pay. That's funny, it's spelled just like the word 'escape'." is not funny in Spanish."

"Dreamt about Russell Brand texting me about a story I wrote. Weird."

"Yay Easter dinner means Cheese Pizza and cookies when you are on your own! ^^ I don't like Ham anyway. Happy Zombie Jesus Day!"

"Piglet doesn't get any love. Just sayin'."

"Actually got my fucking Starbucks today. Damn them and there high prices. Cocoa Cappuccino is good!"

May 2011
"Oh. My. God. Gackt is not only a God, but he is most definitely THE SEX. *just died*"

"'Get your facts first, and then you can distort them as much as you please.' - Mark Twain"

"Jeez louise! "Friday" by Rebecca Black is a shitty song... She sounds like a monotone pekingese trapped in an electro basket. Eek."

"'I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy.'"

"All ends are beginnings. Welcome to your beginning graduates of 2011. So proud of you."

"Fenris, why must you give me so much trouble?! I know you have the whole brooding hot elf thing going, but you are making this love harder!"

"Why does the first part of 'Judas' always make me think of Vampires? I don't understand!"

"I seem to have misplaced my name, can I borrow yours?"

"So the world didn't end yesterday. Can't say I'm surprised. Who else saw that not happening?"

"Fenris, why can't I get you to love me?"

June 2011
"Groucho Marx is a god."

"Had a dream about young Michael Jackson, Archie Bunker and a wonderful play. Unfortunately Archie Bunker ruined everything. Stupid Man."

July 2011
"I TOTALLY JUST GOT A LETTER FROM THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES!! XD"

August 2011
"Drunks breaking into your vehicle at 12 something at night is NOT fun. I repeat NOT FUN!"

September 2011
"Guess who got married? This girl right here!! So happy to finally be married to my wonderful Husband!"

November 2011
"Is it bad that I feel like a rock star in my new white jeans?"

"I wish I was a red-head again. I felt so pretty."

"The dog peed on my brand new white jeans. Other than that had a lot of fun. Happy Turkey Day to everyone!! I hope you have fun."

December 2011
"The Dutch speak 4 languages and smoke marijuana. - @eddieizzard makes me giggle. Every time."

"It is amazing what a shower does for your mood, your outlook on life and, not least, your personal hygiene. I feel much better. I'm hungry."

"I want to be better than I am. I want to be brilliant. I want to be perfect. But perfect never really comes does it?"

"@zachbraff That's almost like cheating really. I mean, who is going to purposefully go for frankincense? Gold sells better, just sayin'."

"It should be illegal to have to work at 3:00am the day after Christmas. Just sayin'."

January 2012
"Great start to the New Year: Migraine headache, crashing the van, breaking my favorite cup. What next? Alligators in top hats?"

"I am out of cheerios. This is a crisis of astronomic proportions. :("

"Milk duds, with their self-deprecating name and remarkably mild flavor, are the most apologetic of the boxed candies."

"Thinking about flying a kite at night with a glow stick attached."

"Randian Philosophy states that Man is heroic, with his own happiness as his moral purpose and reason his only absolute."

March 2012
"#iusedtothink but then I remembered that I'm a woman and I belong in the kitchen."

"Want to blog, eat some yogurt... Do something worth tweeting about?"

April 2012
"Going to go see Titanic in 3D!!"

September 2012
"Tweet. Tweet tweet tweet, tweet tweet."

December 2012
"My hijab brings all the boys to the yard..."

February 2013
"The whole while playing the game of truth and falsehood, waiting on this tightrope, only to stumble and drown because of my heart."

"Maybe its me, but could we consider the possibility that it could be you?"

"I'm not saying that I want to be mean, I just want to be the kind of girl Matchbox 20 sings about."

March 2013
"@WilliamShatner how many Chuck Norrises could Chuck Norris chuck if Chuck Norris could Chuck Norrises?"

April 2013
"The stars made us and we are composed of the dust of stars."
July 2013
"Well, at least I can recognize 사랑 when I see it."

August 2013
"I am here; in a physical, metaphysical, astronomical, way. Distribute me into particles and watch me explode."

November 2013
"All I want for Christmas is a slow-dance with Morgan Freeman. #christmaswishlist"

December 2013
"Hell, I make it up as I go anyway."

"What does it take to be the other half of a soul?"

"The ocean always spoke to her in ways no human voice could. It spoke to the parts of her that descended from mermaids and myth."

"Your songs are left unfinished, your coffee left un-drunk."

A Newer Year

Happy New Year Everyone!

Wow! Hard to believe 2012 is over already! Isn't it crazy to think about?

I'm personally excited about this New Year. It's all shiny and polished, like a pearl waiting to be set in the jewelry of life. I can't wait to see what happens this year!

Here is what I want for this shiny and beautiful New Year.

1. Write the good things that happen during the year on slips of paper and put into an empty jar. At the end of the year I will open the jar and read about all the wonderful things that happened during 2013, instead of reflecting on all the bad.

2. Keep a journal (better than I have been).

3. Put aside money each month.

4. Exercise and lose weight.

5. Read as much as possible. Read anything and everything.

6. Utilize LiveMocha and other resources to begin the journey to my Linguistics degree.

7. Finish "All of Her," "The Lion and the Unicorn," and one other randomly picked (previously abandoned) project.

8. Finally apply to school.

9. Stop being afraid to be me.

10. Be Happy.

Lair of the Unicorn

So... Apparently North Korea has discovered a "unicorn lair" that may have once belonged to the King Tongmyong.

How did they discover this amazing find of the century? A very helpful rectangular rock with the words "unicorn lair" carved into its face. How helpful! Why didn't this get discovered sooner? I mean, unicorns should be important to anyone's country! We should all be looking for secret "unicorn lairs" for the good of our history and culture! I mean, having grown up a girl (against my will), I know just how important unicorns are to the world!

They are symbols of purity and virginity, which is why if you are a 'ho' you shouldn't go near one because they've been said to run you through with that horn of theirs. They are status symbols of wealth and prosperity. They are symbols of strength and magnificence.

All things that North Korea needs to prove that they are, in fact, the best country in the world.

I'm off to look for my own unicorn lair, feel free to read the following article discussing this amazing and transcendental find! Good on you, N. Korea.

http://news.sky.com/story/1019118/north-korea-researchers-find-unicorn-lair

The Lion and the Unicorn

Because I am silly and random and weird (all things EVERYONE should've known by now), I have decided to write my own Korean Drama. Yep, that's right, I'm going into K-Dramas! ^__^

So far I have figured out my main plot, who I want to play my main characters and the title. So far that is it. I need Korean names and I need to START the thing.

The title: The Lion and the Unicorn (because of the poem "The Lion and the Unicorn,"

"The lion and the unicorn were fighting for the crown
The lion beat the unicorn all around the town.
Some gave them white bread, and some gave them brown;
Some gave them plum cake and drummed them out of town." Which has to do with the English Coat of Arms and can be found in Lewis Carroll's "Alice Through the Looking Glass.")

The Characters:

The Lion

Park Han Byul

The Unicorn

Park Shin Hye

The Jester

Lee Jun Ki

The Prince

Jang Geun Suk

The Witch

Jun Ji Hyun

The plot (so far) is as follows:

Two sisters (the Lion and the Unicorn) fall in love with the same guy (the Prince). The oldest sister (the Lion) is evil (or is she?) whilst the younger (the Unicorn) is weak and not the brightest bulb in the box (or is she?). In the meantime another guy (the Jester) is being blackmailed into being with another girl (the Witch), but is in love with the younger sister. It's a case of bad first impressions, sisterly love (and hate), true love and all in a modern day fairy tale setting.

That's all I have for now, however, I'll be sure to post as soon as I have a scene or two going! Stay tuned!

All of Her: Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

I am single for far longer than I should be. I just can't seem to get my head back into the game. I am a mess. I have finally come to the point where I can admit that. I am more of a mess than I thought I would be. I am falling apart at the seams. Especially after everything with Liam. I am too afraid to go to a bar where men might want me. And I can't seem to convince myself to seduce another woman.

I realize a terrifying truth, as I am sitting at my desk at work. At some point this spiral of self-destruction has stopped being about David and Alice. It has stopped being revenge against them for ruining my life. It has become all about the revenge I have taken on my body, on my soul. It has become nothing more than self-destruction for the sole purpose of destruction. I have grown so accustomed to the spiral I no longer hesitate. I have been using sex as a weapon against myself.

My own twisted version of cutting. Sex is the blade and with each slice, I make it sharper. There is no healing. No redemption. No coming back from this. In the end I deserve whatever happens.

Right?

Except there is a still small voice screaming at me. It screams out that I am wrong, that I've completely lost touch with who and what I am. I don't know how much longer I can ignore that inner voice. How much longer I can ignore the truth, is like a new test to me. A newer version of tearing myself down. I am discovering new ways of tearing myself apart. And this hatred for myself is becoming all consuming.

My boss comes up to my desk while I am deep in these thoughts. He clears his throat to gain my attention and motions me to his office. I follow, my stomach suddenly twisting into a vicious knot. He pulls out a chair for me and then seats himself behind his desk.

"Abra, you've been with us for quite some time, yes?" He asks, steepling his fingers.

"Yes, sir." I murmur.

"You were an intern for almost a year, right?" He asks. He waits for me to nod, before continuing.

"And you've been a paid employee for a few months now. In these few months, I've noticed you slowly slipping downward in your attendance, your performance, your attitude, et cetera. During your internship, you were the model employee. I had no complaints whatsoever. It was not a matter of 'if' you were hired, it was a matter of when."

"Sir," I begin, but he silences me with a gesture.

"I hate to do this, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to clear your desk. Perhaps, in the future, when you have regained your drive, we can speak further on your employment with this company. In the meantime, I'm afraid I'm going to have to terminate your employment with us."

During his speech, I feel the tears welling up and spilling over.

"Please," I begin, again. He stands up, as if to dismiss me. I don't say anything else and silently go to my desk. I don't have much here. A family photo, a vase of fake flowers. I ask one of my co-workers for a blank CD and I copy all of my files from the computer to the disc. I don't even have enough to put in a box.

I give the vase and flowers to another girl who started off as an intern. She smiles, graciously, though she looks mildly confused. I put the photo in my purse, along with the disc. I don't say goodbye or even make a scene. I simply walk out. Away from the only job I've ever truly wanted, away from everything I went to school for.

I pass my car in a daze. I don't even stop to put my purse inside. It is pouring and I am quickly soaked. I don't care. I just walk. I don't ponder my mistakes or berate myself for being so stupid. I don't have anything to say to myself at this point. I just walk. I've brought it all on myself. My foolish endeavor to destroy myself has finally come full circle, if you think about it.

I finally stop. I don't know where I am and I am soaked to the bone. I wave down a taxi. It is still pouring and I have absolutely no clue where the hell I'm going. I've just been walking aimlessly for what feels like years. The cabby pulls up to the curb and waits for me to get in. Once I'm in, he hands me something in pink wrapping paper. I look at him for a minute before he motions for me to open it.

Inside is a fluffy pink beach towel. It is huge and warm. I am shocked into utter silence by this simple act of kindness.

"Do you always carry pretty pink towels wrapped in pink wrapping paper?" I ask, after a moment of patting myself to a dryer status.

"Sometimes. And sometimes it is a blue towel in the pink wrapping paper." He smiles and begins to drive. He hasn't asked where I want to go and I notice the meter isn't running just yet.

"Why do you carry towels?" I lean over the front seat and see six identical packages lying neatly wrapped on the floor of the front passenger side.

"For days when it is pouring and someone has forgotten an umbrella. They come in handy sometimes."

"Where are you taking me?" I ask, lowering myself back into my seat.

"I don't know. Where do you want to go?" He pulls up to a stop sign and looks back at me. He smiles. I can't help but smile back.

"Anywhere but here."

Without a word he starts driving again. He heads toward down town and just keeps driving. The rain continues to come down in torrential spurts and I think of the world being washed away like a chalk drawing on a sidewalk. I suppose life is kind of like a chalk drawing. Could I start over? Change things? Or am I really as far gone as I believe?

"What's your name?" asks the cab driver.

"Abra." I say, simply, still staring outside the windows at the rain. "You?"

"Aidan." he says. "Nice to meet you."

We are quiet for a little bit, the edges of the world blurring with my tears and the incessant rain. I should be trying to seduce this guy. It would be very easy. He can tell I've been crying. He can tell that I am very vulnerable right now. I just really don't have the heart for it, or so I think.

It is then that my stubborn side takes over, and I find myself flirting, in spite of my myriad of feelings.

"Would you like to take me somewhere with food and alcohol?" I ask, batting my lashes at his rear view mirror.

"I suppose I am due for a lunch break." He says, smiling at my mirror self. There is a small crack in his mirror, right at the top of my head. I pretend that it isn't symbolic, because it isn't, and continue.

"I know a great spot." I say. I give him directions and before I know it, we are inside eating. We order some fried calamari dumplings and baked sweet potatoes. He doesn't order any alcohol, for obvious reasons, but I order a raspberry vodka on ice. At first, we don't say anything, just eat our food. I recall another awkward date, somewhat like this one.

"How long have you driven a taxi?" I ask, sipping my drink and thanking God for it.

"About a year or so, now." he says, smiling. "What do you do?"

"I'm an accountant." I say, though I am flooded with an overwhelming feeling of loss as I say the words. I am still an accountant. I am just no longer an accountant for that company.

"Really?" he says. "That sounds interesting. Do you help people with their taxes and what not?"

"Sometimes. It depends on the person."

"I have some things that could stand some taxing." He says. He winks at me and takes another bite of his sweet potato. I blush and take another sip of my drink, but I don't say no. The more liquid courage the better, I suppose.

After we are done eating, I am surprised that he picks up the bill. He then ushers me back to his taxi and takes me down the street to a motel. I have a moment of panic, recalling Liam. This man is not Liam. However, it takes me several moments to remind myself of that. He doesn't try to take me inside. Instead, he gets out and comes to sit with me in the backseat. I must look nervous, because he speaks very softly and reassuringly. He is gentle as he inches his hand up and underneath my skirt. I try not to resist and just let myself melt into the sensations.

It doesn't work, but I don't stop him. We never actually go into the motel. When we are done, he drives me back to my office. Well, what used to be my office. I thank him for everything, give him a tip and get in my car. I wait for him to leave before I lean against the steering wheel and burst into tears. Several months ago, if you had asked me where I would be today, I would've said happily married and working at my dream job. Instead, I am slumped against my steering wheel, in front of what used to be my job and completely alone.

I go home, after an hour or so of sitting in my car crying. I feel disgusting. I wonder, briefly, if I am the first woman he has had sex with in the back of his cab. To help counter this feeling I take a hot shower and change into some nice dry clothes. Just as I am settling in to a good book and a cup of cocoa on the couch, my phone rings.

"Abra, come out for coffee with me." says Noah. I sigh, but I don't refuse.

"Where do you want to meet up?" I ask. We decide on where to go and hang up. I kiss Snuggles goodbye and head over to the cafe.

Once I am there I confess everything to Noah, before we have even ordered. I am almost giddy as I tell him. Not because I think the situation is funny, but because I am so relieved to tell someone, anyone. It probably helps that I am so numbed to it that I have no more tears to cry. Instead I reach an eerie level of serene as I tell him about my plans and the lovers. I even tell him about what happened in the parking lot of the motel a few hours ago. He is stunned, but he doesn't say anything. We are silent for a few moments. I try to think of something to brighten the mood and find that I am beginning to feel genuinely better.

"Maybe I'll write a shitty romance novel about vampire watermelons, make a shit ton of money and leave the country on a boat made of gold and tears. Wouldn't that be nice?" I say, after a few moments of contemplation.

"Clearly you have lost your mind and I'm going to have to have you put in a haunted insane asylum for your own protection."

"Or, maybe, I could just give up and become a lesbian." I put my head in my hands and sigh.

"Or maybe you could stop this madness and use your brain for once." Noah crosses his arms and looks at me over those cute little John Lennon glasses he has an affinity for wearing.

"When have you ever known me to use my brain?" I mumble into my hands.

"Not at all since this madness began. You're starting to remind me of a Shakespeare character with all this insanity."

"Maybe," I say. "you could be a little more supportive of your BFF and her life choices."

"Well, if my BFF wasn't trying to ruin her life by being overly skanky and self-destructive over a boy who happens to be a huge douche, I might be. But seeing as how you are insistent on this stupidity, I can't. I'm still here for you, of course. Though, I am still judging."

"I would expect nothing less than your judgement. Ugh, this is ridiculous."

"I agree. Let's order some coffee and discuss how we can get you back on the right track."

"No, no. Not that," I say. "it's ridiculous that I'm not talking to that cutie over there." I point at a really cute Asian guy standing with a friend at the counter. His shoulder length black hair looks so soft and silky that I just want to run my fingers through it. And I just might, depending on how this goes.

The look on Noah's face is hilarious. He genuinely thought I'd stop my plans. Of course, I thought I would too for a moment, but I can't let Noah be right, even though I know he is. I am being self-destructive and attempting to ruin my life. To be contrary, to both myself and Noah, I go over toward the cute Asian. Upon closer inspection he has an inch thick section of his black hair dyed this gorgeous shade of red. Somehow that makes him hotter and more familiar.

"Hi," I say. I vainly wish I had put on a little more make-up, but I'll work with what I've got for now. "would you like to be my boyfriend for a few weeks, cheat on me and set me up for a sad break-up song?"

"Excuse me?" He looks incredulous and I am not surprised. Usually I wouldn't confess my entire plan in the first conversation, but I'm tired of pretending like the relationship is going to go anywhere when I know it isn't. And the only guy who actually cheated on me was Adam, beside the point of course. Why not just let him know what he is getting into now? We can play boyfriend and girlfriend for a short time, he can sleep with whoever and I can pretend to be outraged. It will end in a flaming plane crash of a break-up. With the possibility of sweet, angry, break-up sex. Even though I am beginning to think I may be too messed up to have any kind of "sweet" sex ever again.

"How about a pizza and a fuck." I say. I can hear Noah's jaw hitting the floor behind me.

The guy gets a kind of cocky smile and just looks at me. I look up in a flirty way, looking through my lashes like Scarlett O'Hara at her best.

"I'm not hungry." He says, coyly.

I put a hand on one lightly muscled arm, still smoldering in a Gone with the Wind way, and lean in close. He can see down my shirt right now and Noah is attempting to pick up his jaw. He is about to lose it again.

"We can skip the pizza." I say. I give a saucy wink and walk back over towards Noah, whose jaw never made it off the floor. I hear him follow behind me. He taps on my shoulder.

When I turn around he kisses me. That kiss is so familiar, so strange and warm. He kisses me as if we have been dating for weeks or have been secretly in love for years. He kisses me as if he knows all my secrets, knows every inch of my skin or knows all of my fears. He kisses me for so long that I am literally melting into his arms. After what must've been forever, or a few seconds of forever, he let's me go and walks away.

I slump into my chair, staring at his disappearing figure. Noah has given up on trying to pick up his jaw and he just looks at me.

"What just happened?" He finally asks.

"I don't know, but I wish it would happen again."

All of Her: Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

I go out to brunch with Noah, though I'd rather stay home and sleep. Even though I'd rather wallow in my own misery with no outside interruptions. Even though I'd rather do anything else in the world right now. It would be rude to ignore an invitation for brunch from my bestest best gay guy friend. Who puts up with all my bullshit. And my self-destruction.

Speaking of, maybe it is a good idea to be out and about. I could pick up another stranger; drag myself down further. There is a world of endless possibilities out there and I am stuck in first gear.

At least he seems to be much happier than we were the other night. If he remembers it, he shows no outward signs. I don't blame him for wanting to block it out, if that is what he is doing. It could just be that he was ridiculously drunk has no memory of anything other than waking up in bed with me.

"You look down this morning. What's up?" he says.

"Nothing really, just frustrated is all." I say.

He nods and orders a white chocolate mocha frappuccino and a pretzel bread sandwich. He smiles at me while I order a green tea chai and a wild strawberry and spinach salad. We sit in comfortable silence for a short time before he speaks again.

"I was thinking. You really need to start taking your own advice. And taking my advice." He takes a sip of his drink. I already know what is getting ready to come.

"Look, Noah, I appreciate what you are trying to do. But you know you aren't going to dissuade me. I'm too stubborn for that. Why can't we just enjoy a nice brunch before I have to face any consequences for my actions?" I sip my beverage and take a big bite of my salad. I already know what he wants to say. I am too tired to deal with a lecture.

"Why do you never want to face what is going on? You can't continue to live your life in the dark, pretending there is no such thing as light. You have to face the facts eventually."

"But I don't right now. Not unless you try to force me too. Which seems to be your intention. And if that is the only reason you wanted to have brunch, I'll leave now and save your breath. I guarantee that if you try now, the effort will be wasted." I take another bite of my salad and calmly signal the waitress.

"Don't be a child, Abe." he says.

"Yes, I'd like a to-go box for the rest of this please. As well as the check."

"Come on, Abra."

"Separate checks, please." I pull my wallet out of my purse and begin counting out the money for my portion of the bill. I even pull out a little extra for the tip, though our waitress didn't get to wait on us for very long.

"Abra, seriously, knock it off. You are a grown woman, act like one!" I stop and look at him. He is red in the face, trying to control a burst of temper. He has always been tempestuous. Such a lovely face, he has. I reach across the table and pat his cheek.

"Sorry, darling. I am a grown woman and I can, therefore, make my own decisions, be they wrong or right. I am going to do as I please, you know that. You can't stop me. You have tried, valiantly in fact. You have given it your best effort, now let it go. Let it drop before you have an aneurysm over it." I stand up and grab my things, making for the door. He grabs my arm and pulls me toward him. I do not face him, letting him hold my arm behind me, my back facing him.

"Abra, I can't give it up. I care about you, please. Please, just stop before its too late." I don't turn, but I can hear the sadness in his voice. There is sadness in my own as I pull my arm away.

"Its already too late." I don't look back as I walk out the door.

I walk home to my empty apartment. I lock the door behind me and sit on the couch. Snuggles comes up and meows at me. I reach down to pet him and end up pulling him up next to me. Its too early in the day to go to the bar, which I fully intend to do, so Snuggles and I watch a movie. I finish my salad and my drink from the restaurant. I unplug my phone and power off my cell. I don't feel like talking to anyone and I know Noah is going to try call eventually. He always does.

I play around on my computer and listen to music. I have changed so much, God and the saints can't help me now. All of the ropes holding me back have been undone. I wish David could see just what he's done to me. What I've done to myself because of him. He wouldn't care, I know he wouldn't. I wish he would. I wish he'd see just what a mess he's made. I wish Alice would see it and feel ashamed. I wish they would both beg for forgiveness.

It wouldn't matter if they did, though. I would deny it. I could never forgive them. I wish them all the unhappiness I have felt since that day in the church. Since I discovered the truth behind all the lies. I'm spending so much energy being angry I can't see what I'm really doing to myself and to my friends, to my family.

As the day wears on, I begin to get ready for a night out. I'm going back to "Alice's Wonderland" and maybe I'll find some other stranger to seduce. Maybe I'll find that cute Korean again and bring him home with me. Endless possibilities lie before me.

I don't dress with as much care as I did the last time. I put in a pair of sparkly earrings, a shimmering lipstick and glitter mascara. I put on my favorite pair of bright white jeans and a rhinestone encrusted blouse. I slip into a pair of bejeweled flats and decorate my arms with shiny metal bracelets. Tonight I intend to shine under those bright lights. For better or worse, I will make a lasting impression.

I pick out a sequined clutch before kissing Snuggles goodbye and heading out the door. I hail a taxi and arrive just as the club comes alive. I am filled with pleasure as I enter and see the cute Korean gentleman from last time. I am filled with even more delight as all eyes look at me, sparkling and radiant in the darkness. The girls look at me jealously and the men admiringly. Even he stops and stares at me. I wonder if he recognizes me. I feel like Cinderella as I head toward the bar.

I find myself in a bit of a pickle as I realize that I have completely forgotten the cute Korean's name. Damn. He heads my way, almost as soon as I sit down at the bar. I watch with growing anticipation and nerves. Why can't I think of his name? It was a one syllable name! How difficult can it be to remember?

He sits next to me and hands his card to the bartender.

"How are you?" he asks.

"Well, and you?" We have to practically shout as the music pumps through the speakers. I smile, my most flirty smile and take a sip of a drink. I don't even know what I'm drinking, its just a drink that the bartender handed me.

"Much better now that you are here." He winks and orders a drink for us. I laugh because I haven't even finished the freebie the bartender handed me.

We drink for a little bit before heading to the dance floor. I love the way he dances, all over me and so much more than just the arm dancing that so many other guys do. I sway against him and dip down. I don't know how long we dance, but he is the only one I dance with all night.

We take a break and I get more to drink. I drink until I know that I will forget half the night. I hope I forget everything. After my seventh Cherry Pomegranate margarita, I dance some more. Well, I think I'm dancing. In reality, however, I am falling gracefully. I give up after a little bit and head back over to the bar. I sit down and drain another glass of alcohol.

"Baby, you're lookin' fine! I'll have you open all night like you're I-HOP." says a voice behind me. I turn around to see a guy about my age trying to pick me up. I'm drunk, but I'm not quite drunk enough to be impressed with that line. Especially since he just stole it from the song that is blaring through the speakers currently.

"Excuse me?" I say, an eyebrow raised.

"Is it full of myself to want you full of me?" He tries to slip a hand up my thigh.

"I think I've had my fill, actually." With that quip, I get up to go back to the dance floor. He grabs my arm in a hard grip, turning me to look at him. If not for the bad pick up line and the current abuse to my arm I probably would be a little more interested. However, at this point I am very annoyed and getting to the point of kneeing him in the balls.

"I didn't say you could leave," He says. His face is close to mine like we are going to kiss. His breath smells like liver and onions. Speaking of liver, he has some stuck between his teeth.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that I needed your permission." I say and yank my arm out of his grip. I begin to walk away again, this time toward the door. I hear jerk-face following behind me. This isn't going to be good.

He grabs me again and shakes me a little. That's when my handsome gentleman comes up.

"Is there a problem?" He asks, very politely. He looks at me and completely ignores the brute trying to force me to go with him.

"Fuck off, asshole." says the brute.

"Where do you think you're going with my girlfriend?" asks my handsome gentleman. I am almost too drunk to catch what he just said. However, I'm not stupid and I play along.

"This bitch is your girlfriend?" laughs the bully. He seems to think that no one would want to date a gorgeous Korean guy. How could I prefer anyone but him?

"Yes. And I'd prefer that you not call her a bitch or we may have a problem." The brute loosens his grip on my arm and focuses on my defender. Out of nowhere he takes a swing at him and my hero ducks just in time. When he comes back up he decks the brute in his face and a full out brawl begins. Once the bouncers have pulled them apart the brute has a broken nose and is bawling like a baby. My hero has a busted lip, but little else. I grab a napkin, go to him and gently press it to his lip. He winces, but he smiles at me.

"Let's go," I say. He nods and we leave the brute lying on the floor howling in rage. We hail a taxi and go back to my place, where I provide him with an ice pack for his lip.

"Thanks," he says, pressing it gently to his mouth.

"No, thank you for defending me against that jerk. I really appreciate it." I go to the cabinet and bring out a bottle of Bailey's and beginning drinking again. I'm drunk, but not completely wasted yet. I need to be after that excitement.

"Why are you so hell-bent on being drunk?" he asks, trying to take the bottle from me.

"Because I can't stand who I am otherwise." I say simply. I'm rather honest when I'm drunk. "I don't want to remember any of this in the morning. I just want to be so hung-over I stay in bed all day."

"What about you can't you stand?" he asks.

"Everything now. I used to be someone I admired. Now I'm just a whore and a godforsaken drunk." I take another gulp of my drink.

"You aren't a whore." he says. However, it is no use defending me against myself. Especially since I'm drunk.

"You don't know that. You don't even know me. I could seduce you right now and prove it."

"You couldn't seduce me, unless I wanted to be seduced. And I may not know you well, but I can sense things about people."

"What are you psychic?" I say, nastily.

"No. I just know that a whore wouldn't hesitate before going into a club. I know that a whore would've taken the first guy up as soon as he showed up. A whore wouldn't have hesitated to take that asshole's bait."

"It was a horrible pick up line."

"You are too picky to be a whore, then."

"Shut up!" I say. "You still know nothing about me."

"No, I don't. But I'd like to."

"No you don't. You just want to get in my pants. Which is fine, I'd like to see what you are working with myself. So just drop the act, skip the foreplay and let's go."

"I'm serious, I'd like to get to know you. Not so I can have sex with you. Not for any fake reasoning. I truly, honestly, want to get to know you. The real you. Not the one who claims to be a 'whore and a godforsaken drunk'."

"I'm an accountant. I work at a book store. I have a best gay friend. My ex-fiancé left me waiting at the church on our wedding day for my ex-best friend. That is all there is to know."

"That's not all there is to you, but its a start." He smiles a lopsided smile, his swollen lip impeding a full smile. I don't smile. I drink some more. He tries to get me to talk some more, but I refuse and after it becomes apparent that we aren't going to do anything but sit while I drink he gets up to leave. I stand, unsteady, and wobble over to the door. He kisses my cheek and I slam the door behind him.

There is really no reason that I should be mad at him. I'm not actually mad, I suppose. My night has just gone all to hell and I still feel like I'm not drunk enough to survive it. I pass out on the couch, my bottle of Bailey's in my hand.

I wake up, sixteen hours later, to a knock on my door. My head feels like it is full of cotton and my mouth tastes like an old gym shoe. My body aches from sleeping half off the couch for so long. I have to pee, really bad. I stumble to my feet and wince. Everything screams at me and the knocking produces a pounding in my cotton ball brain.

"Abra!" says a voice on the other side of the door. It sounds more muffled than it should to my addled head.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." I murmur and slowly shuffle toward the door. I don't unhook the chain, which I don't remember putting on last night, and crack the door to see who it is.

However, it is all in my head, because there is no one at the door. I'm losing my mind, I think. I stumble towards the bathroom as fast as I can, before I make a puddle on the floor. I make it in time, but I hear a knocking on the door again.

"You've got to be kidding me." I say. I flush and wash my hands, taking my time to the door. I have no idea who it could be. I glance at the clock and see that it is a little after seven. What the hell happened last night? I vaguely remember a fight or something. I remember drinking myself to sleep.

"Abra!" says the voice on the other side of the door.

"I'm coming, keep your pants on!" I shout. I unchain the door and yank it open. "What?"

I startle Noah, mid-knock. He holds his nose as he walks by me into the apartment.

"You reek of alcohol, Abe. What the hell have you been doing? Bathing in it?"

"No, I just had a few drinks last night." I pull my shirt up to sniff it and then hold my nose too. I do reek.

"I've been trying to call you all day. You didn't go to work, your Mom didn't know where you were. I was beginning to think something horrible had happened."

"You called my mom? Why would you do that? Now she is going to worry about me." I plop back down on the sofa.

"She's already worried about you. You haven't been going to work. You haven't been going anywhere but the bar. You are going to get fired, Abe."

"I can take care of myself, Noah. I'm fine."

"I hope so, Abra. I would hate for you to lose everything you've worked so hard for because of this stupid quest you are on to ruin yourself."

"I'm fine, Noah. I'm not going to lose my job. I haven't missed a day in three years, I'm sure missing a couple days isn't going to ruin my career. Go home, so I can take a shower."

He kisses my cheek and goes to the door.

"Be careful, Abra." With that, he closes the door and I am alone again.

I go plug in my phone and power up my cell. I never turned them back on, which is why I didn't hear the phone ringing. I have twelve missed calls. Two from my mother, two from Anna, three from Kevin, one from a number I don't recognize and four from Noah.

I have a couple voice messages as well, which I listen to. One of which is from the number I didn't recognize.

"Hey, this is Adam. We met at the bar the other night and I was just calling to see if you'd like to go out to dinner sometime. Hit me up, if you're interested."

I don't remember giving out my number to anyone. But it can't hurt to call him back. After all, I am on a "stupid quest" to ruin myself. I don't listen to any of the other messages, because I know what they'll say and call the number back.

"This is Adam." says the voice from my message.

"Hey, Adam. This is Abra. You called and left me a message. Apparently we met at the bar the other night?"

"Oh hey! Yeah, we did. Don't you remember? We made out for a little while and you gave me your number."

"Oh. Of course I remember. I was just checking to see if you remembered." I am totally bluffing, I have no idea what he is talking about.

"Well, I just wanted to see if you'd like to go out sometime. I mean, if you want to that is."

"I'd love to. Would you like to meet up tonight?"

"Absolutely. Where do you want to meet up?"

"How about the beach?"

We agree to meet at ten at the beach. I will bring my blanket, a few condoms and what is left of my Bailey's. Maybe tonight, I'll get lucky.

All of Her: Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

I don't call Noah to go out with me. I don't call Clark. I don't call anyone. I am going to go out, by myself, and I'm going to get drunk as hell. I may go home with a stranger or I may go home alone. I don't know yet.

I dress in a soft pink top with small white and gray pearls stitched along the neckline. I put on my favorite pair of white jeans and a cute pair of gray knit ballet flats. I dab a drop of perfume behind my ears, on my wrists and then take another drop to run through my hair. After this I pull my honey blonde hair into a slightly off kilter half-up style. I accent my eyes with shimmer mascara and use a touch of sparkling pink lip gloss.

Once I have finished dressing, I make sure that Snuggles has food and water. I turn off all the lights except the one above the stove and I lock the doors. Because I was unable to drive myself home yesterday I am sans one mode of transportation. I wouldn't want to tempt myself with driving anyway. The last thing I need is a wreck while I am driving drunk. Taking a deep breath, I begin my trek to the bus stop down the street.

I take the bus downtown and it drops me off just down the block from "Alice's Wonderland." I walk calmly up the street until I am standing under the glittering lights of decadence realized. I try to take a deep breath, but it hitches in my ribs somewhere. The ache of betraying Jahan, of the bitterness David has given me, reverberate through my bones. Or maybe that is the thrumming of a bass line. I won't let any of this stop me. I am going inside and I am going to forget for a time.

When I open the door the music and the smell of alcohol hit me full in the face. I try not to stagger, but trip over my own feet. I am caught by cute guy with shoulder length, wavy, black hair with one strip of blood red. He smiles as he helps me right myself and then he holds the door open so that I can walk inside.

The lights are dazzling and the dance floor is packed. The gentleman who assisted me at the door, smiles again and points toward a couple stools at the bar. I just stare for a moment, completely out of my element. Gently, he places his hand on the small of my back and guides me to the stools.

"Set the lady up with whatever she wants, on me." He smiles and hands his card to the bartender. He turns and winks at me then saunters off to the speak with the DJ. Completely bewilder, I look at the bartender.

"What'll it be miss?" He smiles as he wipes out a glass.

"I don't know. What do you recommend?"

"Do you like apples? I have a sweet new drink with a kick. It has apple liqueur in it, though."

"Sounds interesting. What kind of drink is it?" I lean forward a little with my elbows resting on the bar.

"I call it 'George Washington's Apple'. Its got whisky, sour apple vodka, apple liqueur and a spritz of soda."

"Will it get me drunk quickly?" I ask, leaning forward a little more.

"I suppose that depends on how fast you drink it." He winks and mixes up the drink in a tall glass. He pours it over ice and hands it to me. "Cheers, girly."

I take a sip and close my eyes. It is sweet and sour, with a vague alcohol taste. I don't wait for the ice to water it down and I down it as quickly as I can. The bartender's eyes widen as I try to catch the breath that just got knocked out by the alcohol rush. I smile a flirty smile and ask for another. This one without ice. I throw it back like I've been a drunk my whole life.

After two more of those and an appletini with a sugared rim, my drink total is up to five. I feel pleasantly tipsy and the room tips with me. I decide it is time to dance and flirt, so leaving the safety of my bar stool I float to the floor. At least, it feels like I float. For all I know I could be drooling and stumbling all the way there.

I happen to catch the eye of the cutie that helped me in the door and I motion him over. I ask him to dance with me and he obliges with a quirky grin. While we are dancing I have the opportunity to really look at him.

He looks like a Korean movie star. His eyes look like they were painted on a porcelain doll. I've never seen such beautiful eyes. They are the color of a lime's insides. Of course this could be the alcohol talking. I am pretty tipsy right now. Maybe a little more than that.

His lips are kind of feminine. Perfect Cupid's bow upper lip. A perfect bow in general. One corner lifts in the cutest way, giving him that quirky grin. He's a little feminine though, but not so much as to be unattractive. Not that he would be unattractive to me anyway. I like his look. I love his hair. Its so soft and for some reason he is letting me run my fingers through it. I twist the red strip around my fingers and giggle when I let it go.

"What's your name?" I ask, noting a slight slurring to my speech.

"Jae." He smiles and puts his hands on my hips. "And your name?"

"Abra. What's a cute, nice, guy like you doing in a place like this?"

"Trying to find a piece of Wonderland, I suppose. What is a beautiful, and naive, girl like you doing in a place like this?" Our hips move in rhythm with the music and I am feeling drunk, not just from the alcohol, but from his eyes and the way he talks. His dancing isn't so bad either.

"Why do you, why do you say I'm naive?"

"Because you had no idea what to expect when you walked in here. And the tripping at the door didn't help to prove it otherwise."

I lean my cheek against his chest as a slow song comes on. He smells good and he feels so right underneath my hands and face. When the song ends and the next begins I pull away and go back to the bar stool.

I order six Buttery Nipples, a Sex on the Beach and a Cotton Candy twister before Jae comes up and stops me. At this point I can't see straight, think straight or even speak straight. He helps me off of my stool and begins to lead me outside. At first I fight back, trying to go back for another shot of something or other. After a futile effort on my part, I give up and allow myself to be practically carried out. Once we are outside, I realize just how attracted I am to this man. I notice how tall he is and how he carries himself. I find that I am burning up, not just from the alcohol.

"You are so so so so beautiful, you know." I stammer. He smiles and I want to melt a little.

"You are beautiful too. Probably more so when you aren't wasted." He places his hands on my shoulders to steady me.

"I? I drunk? Never, sir. 'Tis only a trick of the flashy lights. Truly. I have never been more sober in all my life." I pull away and try to strike a pose. I almost fall on my face before he catches me.

"And a pitiful liar too. Do you have someone who could come and pick you up?" He has doubled in my vision. Now there are three hot Koreans holding me up.

"No pick ups, only let downs. No lovers, no friends. Do you want my lover to be?" I lean into him, my head and my heart dancing a tango on a sinking ship. I feel sick. "I think I need another drink. I'm not drunk enough."

"I think you are plenty drunk." He says, preventing me from walking, or falling, back to the club. "I think I'll call you a taxi."

"No taxes on dances." I grab his hand and try a tarantella. I fail miserably. Partially because I'm drunk. Or, maybe entirely because I'm drunk. Then, without warning, I kiss him. It isn't the most amazing kiss in the world, but it isn't the worst all things considered. To my drunken surprise, he kisses me back. His arms come around me and he kisses me like David should've kissed me when we were together. With passion and meaning, with a zest for love and life.

I lose track of how long we kiss, but he does break it off and calls for a taxi. He rides with me to my apartment, even having the taxi driver pull over for bagels, which I am suddenly dying for. He helps me up the stairs to my apartment and he carries me inside. He sets me on the couch while I contentedly munch on a bagel. Snuggles meows at this dastardly intruder and then proves that he is the worst watch-cat ever by purring and wrapping himself around said intruder's leg. Jae squats to pet him and then comes over to sit by me.

Suddenly, I feel very nauseous. I stand up and stumble to the bathroom. He follows me. I crumple in front of the toilet and begin throwing up. Shockingly, he comes up and holds my hair out of my face.

"I swear to dog, I'll never eat bagels again." I sputter, in-between bouts of retching.

"I'm sure you won't." He says, a little chuckle under his breath barely audible above my vomiting.

"Its not funny." I whimper.

"No, it isn't. But maybe next time you won't have four 'George Washington's Apples', an appletini, six Buttery nipples, a cotton candy twister and a Sex on the Beach. You should be happy that I'm not having to rush you to the hospital."

"I'll try to the remember that when my stomach falls out of my mouth and into the toilet."

Once I have completely emptied my innards, he washes my face and carries me to my bedroom. He slips off my shoes and pulls the covers over me. He kisses my cheek and gently rubs my temples, which are throbbing now.

"It was nice to meet you, sleep well." He kisses me again and is gone before I pass out.

The next morning I can't remember a damn thing. I vaguely remember a beautiful Asian man and dancing. I remember drinking interestingly titled drinks. I remember throwing up. But that is it. And I have the worst hang-over in the world. There has to be an easier way to forget the past. Clearly drinking it away isn't going to work. Except in the short term.

I stumble out of my room and into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. There is a bag of half eaten bagels lying on the counter. What the hell happened last night? Seeing as how I am still fully dressed I didn't sleep with anyone. But where did I get bagels and why? How did I get home?

Instead of trying to figure it out, I lie down on the couch and let Snuggles curl up with me. My head is pounding as the coffee brews. I swear I am never doing that again. At least not until the next time I fuck something up royally.

Maybe I should try again tonight. Except this time only have one or two drinks. And take someone with me so that I don't hook my way home. Not that there is any proof that I did that last night. Or maybe I should just give up the whole goddamn scheme and call it a day. I can't, of course, but it is nice to think about. I'm already too far gone to stop now.

I spend my day sleeping off my hang-over and watching bad soap operas on TV. I decide it would be better to go out again tomorrow or the next night. I should really give my liver and kidneys time to recover from the bender we went on last night. The cat seems happy with this decision.

I dream of the cute guy from the bar and wonder if we did anything last night that I can't remember. Did we even talk? I have no idea. I remember how nice the bartender was with each drink I ordered though. Of course that was probably just because I was spending money.

Wait. I didn't spend any money last night, did I? I don't remember. How else could I have gotten all that alcohol though? I must've spent something. However, when I check my purse I discover that I am only missing five dollars. And in its place is a receipt for a bag of bagels. Well that explains the bagels. I still have no idea why I got them. All I know is that when I look at them I get queasy. I think I should avoid them for a few days.

About ten o'clock my phone rings. I don't recognize the number, but I pick up anyway. My thinking isn't exactly clear right now.

"House of pain and inconsistent memories, how may we help you?"

"Abra, its Alice." My eyes snap open and I feel a righteous indignation building up underneath the blinding pain in my head.

"What the hell do you want?"

"I want to talk to you. Now. Where can I meet you?" She sounds like she actually believes I'll meet up with her.

"Why would I want to meet with you anywhere?"

"Because we need to settle a few things."

"Look, for you things may be unsettled, but for me I'm as settled as I'm going to be and I don't care to have anything more to do with you or your asshole husband."

"Pull your head out of your ass and meet me at the park in fifteen minutes."

"I'd really like to oblige, but I can't hear you because my ears are so full of shit from my head being plugged up my ass. Thanks for playing though. Buh-bye." I hang up. As I begin to walk away from the phone it rings again.

"What do you want with me, huh? Want to humiliate me some more?"

"No. I want to talk."

"You can kiss my ass, we're done talking."

"No, we're not! We're nowhere near done talking. I know you slept with David. I know what you are trying to do and I think its pathetic." She is spits each word out as if it is poisonous.

"What am I trying to do that you haven't already done?"

"That's low, even for you."

"Really? Low, you say? Hm, you know what's low? Low is, oh I don't know, stealing your best friend's fiance away from her on her wedding day. That's pretty low, don't you think? Or encouraging your best friend's boyfriend, fiance, significant asshole to sleep with her and propose to her even though he isn't in love with her. That's pretty low too. You know what's really low though? The fact that you have the gall to be upset with me for sleeping with your husband when you've been sleeping with my boyfriend for Lucifer's dark angels only know how long. So suck it the fuck up and get over yourself." With that I hang up, again. This time she doesn't call back.

To be honest, I can't help but want her to call again so I can rant some more. It feels nice to finally say all the things I've kept bottled up since this whole mess started. When you think about it, it is truly unfair that she hasn't let me do this sooner. I wish she would call back. Of course, I have caller ID so I could technically call her, but its so much more satisfying to have her crawling back for another heaping helping of bitch.

I am so riled up that I can't sleep now. I pace around the floor wondering if she'll get up the nerve to call me again. I practice what I'd like to say to her, the sniveling coward. It is one thing for her to steal my man out from under me and claim to be my friend, but heaven forbid I utilize turnabout to do the same. How could I have been so completely blind to all of this?

Out of the blue I decide to bake a pie. I don't really care what kind of pie. I just want to make one. Something to keep my mind off Alice, off of Jahan, off of everything. At least for a little while. I scour my cupboards for pudding mixes and discover I have a pistachio pudding and a chocolate cherry. I opt for the pistachio and busily set about making a crust for it. It is so much fun that I completely forget that my ex-lover and my ex-best friend are probably having sex right now and I'm just making a pie so that I can get fat. Or not.

After my crust is done baking I fill it with pistachio pudding and put it in the fridge. I pop in a Cary Grant DVD and get a bowl of Vanilla Latte ice cream while I wait for my pie to firm up. Why can't all men be suave and sophisticated like Cary Grant? Why can't I find a sweet, funny, intelligent and handsome man who will completely sweep me off my feet?

After that movie is over I pop in "Gone with the Wind" and decide that it is already one in the morning, may as well watch a long movie. I end up falling asleep just as Miss Melanie has her baby and Rhett swoops in to save the day.

I dream of Clark Gable and Cary Grant whisking me away in a horse drawn carriage through a burning city with a Godzilla sized bitch-o-saurus named Alice chasing after us. At the last minute we are saved by a talking pistachio pie that leads us to a night club in the middle of a desert. The desert, of course, is located inside a giant beating heart and there is a handsome Asian man across the ventricles beckoning me to dance with him. He kisses me and the heart explodes into a thousand beautiful pieces and I wake up alone, and utterly bewildered, in my apartment.

That is the last time I eat Vanilla Latte ice cream and watch "Gone with the Wind" before bed.

Love

I keep coming back to this one topic:

Love.
And the reason I keep coming back to it is because of how crazy it is. How crazy we are. How insane everything can be when Love is involved. And no, I'm not just writing this because I'm watching a Korean drama involving a complicated love. Though, it does help.

Once again, I'm going back to Homosexuality. Bisexuality. Transgendered. I'm going back to all the needless hate and stupidity and ignorance. I'm going back, because I just don't understand.

I, literally, cannot comprehend these prejudices. These hatreds.

I was raised a Christian. I believed that homosexuality, bisexuality, transgender were wrong. I believed for a long time that a man should not marry a man. A woman should not marry a woman. I believed that God created man and woman to be together and anything else is an abomination.

But when I was a child I also hid sexual feelings for other women. I was uncomfortable in my own skin and even seriously considered becoming a man, because I was not feminine. Newsflash, I'll never be "feminine."

The terrible thing is, when you are experiencing those feelings, you feel like you are letting God down. You feel like you are a monster because you feel a surge of attraction to someone of the same sex. Or when you imagine what it would be like to be a man and you are a woman. You imagine having sex with a woman, as a man, because then it wouldn't be wrong, right? Except it would because you were originally a woman and you changed what God intended.

Except we are all created in God's image. God doesn't make mistakes. Right?

But I'm in sin. I have sinned. Sinning is completely different. An all powerful, all knowing, God has no power over the choices you make. Except, doesn't he know everything before you do it? Why wouldn't he step in?

It was explained to me once, by my ex-step-father, that God is a "gentleman." He allows us to make our own decisions and what not, but doesn't meddle. Which is stupid. He is God. He interfered in human's lives from the very beginning. He destroyed the world with a flood because of the "sins" of the people. He demolished Sodom and Gomorrah because of their sin. Through out the Bible he is meddling.

But then you get into the downward spiral of "free will" and whether or not we have it.

I believe, if we are created in the image of God and God makes no mistakes, we are the way he created us. Which leads to a few messed up avenues, which we won't delve into tonight.

I was raised that we are to love the sinner and hate the sin.

I was raised in a family whose Homosexuality to Heterosexuality ratio was 1 in 3. I have two Uncles who are (were, as one of them has sadly passed on) homosexual and two Aunts that are (were, as one of them has also passed on) lesbians. I am bisexual, my brother is bisexual.

I was raised confused.

An all loving, all knowing, God hates. These feelings I am experiencing are wrong. They are a sin. I am doing everything wrong. I'm not being the obedient, submissive woman I should be. I am too opinionated. Too well-read. Too stubborn. I am trying to be in love with a God that hates me. Or does he distinguish between sin and sinner?

You can blame my feelings on being molested many times as a child/young adult. You can blame my feelings on sin. You can blame it on my discovery of pornography (of the Lesbian variety) as a young woman. You can blame it on what you want or do not.

But it doesn't change that I am who I am. I love who I love.

I have had sex with a woman and I enjoyed it. The feelings were pure. The desire to be together, physically, with someone that you are attracted to is perfectly normal. Unless its towards the same sex, in which case it is a hideous thing. It can't be love. It can't be anything but disgusting. Love isn't love if it is for someone of the same sex.

What God damns a heart?

What if, and bear with me here (Donnie, you aren't allowed to comment, because I already know your opinion on it). What if, the roles were reversed? What if it was heterosexuals who were the weird ones? What if being straight was abnormal? Would we still feel the same way? Would we still say that homosexuals don't deserve the same rights? Would it be different if it was the other way around?

I think I might write a story about that. About the possibilities of that kind of society. It isn't that strange. The Amazons were said to only be with a man to procreate and then they killed him. It was considered weak to be with a man. It was considered a betrayal. How different that must be.

Of course, in today's world the Amazons wouldn't have to even associate with a man. In today's world we don't even have to have sex to have a child. One can be created for us. One could be created with just a little sperm and a viable egg. No penis has to enter a vagina. No sexual intercourse has to be utilized to reproduce now.

Maybe I am rambling now. I just have so many thoughts running around in this head of mine that sometimes I lose track of where I was going with what.

All I know is that I don't understand it. If you wanted to get married and the law wouldn't let you, would you let that stand in your way? No. You would fight for it. If you desperately loved that person you would fight until your dying breath.

Don't people like my Aunt and her partner deserve to have a LEGAL marriage? They've been together longer than I've been alive. If anyone deserves to get married its her. Don't they deserve the same rights allotted to every other married couple? Its not like a piece of fucking paper is going to change their feelings for one another. But shouldn't they have the choice?

Divorce is high already. Without legal marriage for homosexuals. But Homosexuality is what is ruining the country. Ruining the world.

It doesn't matter that children in these households consistently do better in school. It doesn't matter that people like Pat Robertson are what is destroying this country. No. What matters is that some man is fucking another man. Heaven forbid they be in love with one another. Willingly giving themselves to each other and deeply in love.

Heaven forbid we love our neighbors as ourselves. That we give them the same basic rights as we would want to have. Because you know, that is just too damn easy to do. Its too easy to admit that its wrong to prevent a human being from having the rights that you want for yourself. Its too easy to admit, which is why we don't.

We refuse our brothers and sisters, our fathers and mothers, our sons and daughters, aunts and uncles, the basic human right to Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness because they happen to want someone of the same sex. We refuse for the same reasons we refused (and still do in some places) interracial marriage. Because it offends the senses of some hoity toity bitch or dick.

And we'll continue to hide behind false religion until we are eventually killed by it or true revolution is attained.

Walk the Plank with Eyes wide open.

200: My middle name is: Elizabeth
199: I was born in: Palo Alto California
198: I am really: Tired
197: My cellphone company is: AT&T (unfortunately)
196: My eye color is: Brown/Black, depending on mood.
195: My shoe size is: 11
194: My ring size is: 10
193: My height is: 5'1"
192: I am allergic to: Corn, Rice, Shellfish (most recently discovered), bee stings and numerous antibiotics...
191: My 1st car was: 1985 Fleetwood Brougham Cadillac
190: My 1st job was: Cleaning houses
189: Last book you read: "Before I go to Sleep"
188: My bed is: on my right.
187: My pet: is currently non-existent
186: My best friend: my husband
185: My favorite shampoo is: Anything by Suave
184: AIM name: Is non-existent, because I don't have AIM
183: Piggy banks are: AWESOME! Especially if it is a Vampire Pig Piggy Bank, like mine :D
182: In my pockets: is lint.
181: On my calendar: I have nothing circled
180: Marriage is: wonderful, if it is to the right person.
179: Spongebob can: be my best friend!! I love that yellow sponge!
178: My mom: is one of my best friends and I cherish her.
177: The last three cd's I bought were? Lungs by Florence and the Machine, Josh Groban by Josh Groban and Awake by Josh Groban (those last two were purchased almost four years ago... I don't buy cds often...)
176: Last YouTube video watched: Happy Wheels Let's Play... Unfortunately. Thanks to my wonderful husband...
175: How many cousins do you have? If we count just first cousins, I have 6. If we get into all my other cousins I quickly lose count...
174: Do you have any siblings? I have 11. 4 adopted older siblings, my brother, my half-sister and 5 half-siblings that who died before seeing the sun.
173: Are your parents divorced? Yes.
172: Are you taller than your mom? Not anymore.
171: Do you play an instrument? I used to play the recorder. I now am able to pick out small pieces of random songs on the piano.
170: What did you do yesterday? Bought some Christmas presents.

[ I Believe In ]
169: Love at first sight: No. I believe in LUST at first sight. But not love.
168: Luck: Yes. And I have horrific luck.
167: Fate: Yes.
166: Yourself: Not really.
165: Aliens: No.
164: Heaven: Not as much as I used to.
163: Hell: Yes. Earth is hell.
162: God: I believe in A god, not necessarily any specific god, however.
161: Horoscopes: Not really, though they are fun to read.
160: Soul mates: Yes.
159: Ghosts: Yes.
158: Gay Marriage: Yes. Everyone has the right to be married. No matter if they are gay or straight.
157: War: No.
156: Orbs: I'm not sure what those are...
155: Magic: I wish I did.

[ This or That ]
154: Was there supposed to be a question here?
153: Drunk or High: Drunk.
152: Phone or Online: Phone.
151: Red heads or Black haired: Red heads! Though, I do like both.
150: Blondes or Brunettes: Brunettes.
149: Hot or cold: Hot. I can always take off clothes. I can only put so many on however...
148: Summer or winter: Summer.
147: Autumn or Spring: Autumn.
146: Chocolate or vanilla: Vanilla.
145: Night or Day: Night. Easier to see the moon.
144: Oranges or Apples: Oranges. They don't hurt my teeth.
143: Curly or Straight hair: Curly. I wonder why that could be? lol.
142: McDonald's or Burger King: McDonald's. Though I should say neither...
141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: White Chocolate.
140: Mac or PC: PC.
139: Flip flops or high heals: Flip flops all the way!!
138: Ugly and rich OR Sexy and poor: Sexy and Poor. Just like my hubby. :P
137: Coke or Pepsi: Coke!
136: Hillary or Obama: Obama.
135: Buried or cremated: Neither.
134: Singing or Dancing:
133: Coach or Chanel:
132: Katherine McPhee or Taylor Hicks: Katherine McPhee
131: Small town or Big city: Small town
130: Wal-Mart or Target: Wal-Mart
129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: Neither.
128: Manicure or Pedicure: Neither.
127: East Coast or West Coast: West Coast
126: Your Birthday or Christmas: My Birthday
125: Chocolate or Flowers: Flowers
124: Disney or Six Flags: Six Flags
123: Yankees or Red Sox: Neither. I don't give two shits about baseball.

[ Here's What I Think About ]
122: War: It is horrific and often completely pointless. I thank all those who fight for my so called "freedoms", however you should be at home fighting against corrupt politicians rather than dying thousands of miles away.
121: George Bush: is an idiot who fucked up our economy.
120: Gay Marriage: should be legalized, because it is MARRIAGE. If two people love each other they should have the right to be married. And this whole debate about it is fucking ridiculous and unconstitutional. Everyone has the right to Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness. If your happiness is being Gay, than you should have the right to pursue it!
119: The presidential election: is coming soon and I don't know who I'm voting for.
118: Abortion: is okay in certain situations. However, I generally am pro-life.
117: MySpace: is obsolete.
116: Reality TV: is stupid.
115: Parents: are there to take care of us, though sometimes they fail. Miserably.
114: Back stabbers: are the worst.
113: Ebay: is something I'm not into.
112: Was there supposed to be something here?
111: Work: is necessary, but not always fun.
110: My Neighbors: are annoying when they've been drinking.
109: Gas Prices: are too high.
108: Designer Clothes: aren't worth the designer prices.
107: College: is where I'd like to be next year.
106: Sports: are okay, but I don't have time to be interested right now.
105: My family: is dysfunctional, crazy, fun, spastic and wonderful.
104: The future: is dim.

[ Last time I ]
103: Hugged someone: was fifteen minutes ago.
102: Last time you ate: was fifteen minutes ago.
101: Saw someone I haven't seen in awhile: Yesterday!
100: Cried in front of someone: Last night.
99: Went to a movie theater: July
98: Took a vacation: September
97: Swam in a pool: Last year?
96: Changed a diaper: May
95: Got my nails done: Never.
94: Went to a wedding: September. (Attending my own counts, right?)
93: Broke a bone: Two years ago.
92: Got a piercing: Actually, I've never had a piercing, though my husband is paying for me to get my ears done as my Christmas present.
91: Broke the law: Earlier today... I didn't put on my seat belt.
90: Texted: 7:32PM

[ MISC ]
89: Who makes you laugh the most: Donnie.
88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: My bed!
87: The last movie I saw: was some Bleach movie that I only watched to please my brother.
86: The thing that I'm looking forward to the most: is the beginning of a new year.
85: The thing I'm not looking forward to: is moving. Again.
84: People call me: Crazy.
83: The most difficult thing to do is: to admit you're wrong.
82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: Never.
81: My zodiac sign is: Libra.
80: The first person I talked to today was: my hubby.
79: First time you had a crush: I was two and I told my mother that I was going to marry Elvis Presley when I grew up. Unfortunately I was born in '88 and Elvis was long gone by then.
78: The one person who I can't hide things from: my friend, Sarah Jo.
77: Last time someone said something you were thinking: Last night.
76: Right now I am talking to: No one.
75: What are you going to do when you grow up: be a linguistic literature translator?
74: I have/will get a job: at Sam's club doing demos.
73: Tomorrow: I have to work.
72: Today: I worked.
71: Next Summer: I want to be thinner and preparing for school.
70: Next Weekend: I work.
69: I have these pets: non-existent.
68: The worst sound in the world: is nails on a chalkboard.
67: The person that makes me cry the most is: myself.
66: People that make you happy: Donnie, Sarah Jo, my brother, my mom, my friends!!
65: Last time I cried: Last night. Unfortunately.
64: My friends are: wonderful.
63: My computer is: annoying sometimes.
62: My School: is going to be IU
61: My Car: is a 1988 Chevy Astro Van.
60: I lose all respect for people who: have double standards.
59: The movie I cried at was: A lot of them?
58: Your hair color is: black/brown, aka: my natural hair color currently...
57: TV shows you watch: none right now.
56: Favorite web site: Facebook
55: Your dream vacation: Ireland in the fall.
54: The worst pain I was ever in was: right after my car accident. A shatter pelvis, shattered leg and miscellaneous injuries. Not to even mention the emotional trauma/pain of losing my car.
53: How do you like your steak cooked: Well.
52: My room is: quickly filling up with presents.
51: My favorite celebrity is: currently Lee Jun-ki
50: Where would you like to be: In bed with my husband, sleeping.
49: Do you want children: Not anymore. It doesn't matter. After the wreck I was told not to have children.
48: Ever been in love: Yes.
47: Who is your best friend: Didn't I answer this already?
46: More guy friends or girl friends: Currently? Girl friends... and it is fucking WEIRD! I've always had more guy friends.
45: One thing that makes you feel great is: when Donnie kisses me.
44: One person that you wish you could see right now: My Memere. I want to tell her all the things I didn't get to before she died.
43: Do you have a 5 year plan: Sure?
42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: Yeppers.
41: Have you pre-named your children: I did have all their names picked out. Now I guess I'll use them in stories instead.
40: Last person I got mad at: This bitch at Wal-Mart who got super shitty with me for no reason.
39: I would like to move to: Sweden!! :D
38: I wish I was a professional: writer.

[ My Favorites ]
37: Candy: Banana Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.
36: Vehicle: Cadillac and a Dodge Charger...
35: President: John Quincy Adams
34: State visited: Wisconsin
33: Cellphone provider: I don't have a favorite. They all suck.
32: Athlete: Michael Jordan
31: Actor: Cary Grant and Wentworth Miller
30: Actress: Keira Knightley
29: Singer: Gackt.
28: Band: The Beatles
27: Clothing store: Maurice's
26: Grocery store: Wal-Mart
25: TV show: Remington Steele and Case Closed
24: Movie: Inception
23: Website: StumbleUpon
22: Animal: Horse, Lion
21: Theme park: Holiday World
20: Holiday: Labor Day
19: Sport to watch: Football
18: Sport to play: Soccer
17: Magazine: TV Guide
16: Book: Daughter of the Blood by Anne Bishop
15: Day of the week: Saturday
14: Beach: A tiny one I visited while I was in Florida.
13: Concert attended: Don Francisco... That's really the only one...
12: Thing to cook: Homemade Pancakes
11: Food: Waffles
10: Restaurant: O'Charley's
9: Radio station: B97
8: Yankee candle scent: Almond Cookie and Fresh Cut Roses
7: Perfume: Crush: Blue
6: Flower: White Rose
5: Color: Blood Red.
4: Talk show host: Regis Philbin.
3: Comedian: Eddie Izzard
2: Dog breed: Doberman Pincer
1: Are you ready for this survey to be over? Yes?

The King and the Clown

Last night I watched a movie called "The King and the Clown." It stars one of my new favorite Korean actors Lee Jun-Ki (aka: Lee Joon-Ki, Lee Joon-Gi, etc.), as well as Kam Wu-seong (who I think is going to be a new favorite of mine) and Kang Sung Yun from Happy Together!

This movie was incredible. Gorgeously shot, powerfully performed and the emotions behind it felt so intensely real.

My only main problem with this movie was the anachronistic language. The use of words like "fuck", "pussy" and "furry clam" were almost definitely not used in early 1500's Korea. The word "fuck" didn't appear in the United States until shortly after WWII. Aside from the blatant use of anachronistic words I loved this movie.

The relationships are tangled, the loves subdued and the views elegant.

If you love history or historic movies (or movies set in historic time periods) you will love this movie (I hope)!

I think the hardest parts for me to watch were when Gong-gil, Lee Jun-Ki's character, was crying. He is so lost in this movie, his body is being passed around for money and he has only one friend, whom he may or may not be in love with.

A touching and beautiful movie. I thoroughly enjoyed it. If you can, check it out from your library or see if it is on NetFlix. If you love Korean films, love stories and history, you will love this film.

All of Her: Chapter Four

The night of Sophie's homecoming dance arrives. Before her art class, Mom drops her off at my apartment.

I have been flip-flopping on the plan I have made. I try to believe in true love finding me, but I discover I no longer believe in it. He took my belief in beautiful things like that. I am no longer naive. But does that mean I want to go through with my plan?

Its shortly after Sophie arrives that I make a decision. I won't go through with my plan. I won't just date and break up with random people. I am an adult. I will behave like one.

I have resolve. My mother survived, so can I. She didn't resort to sleeping around. Of course, wasn't betrayed by my father, but that is beside the point.

I am okay. Until a knock at the door.

Through the peephole I see that its David. I knew it would be. Sophie asks if she should answer the door. I shush her and have her go to the bedroom to do her make-up.

I open the door, cautiously. He smiles at me. He has such a beautiful smile.

"What do you need David?" I ask.

"Can I come in?" he asks.

Against my better judgment I open the door and step aside. I catch a whiff of his cologne and I begin to melt.

He comes in and sits on the couch. He motions for me to sit with him. I go to sit and he pulls me into his lap. He begins kissing me. An insistent kiss, full of desire. He pulls at my tank top and I don't resist.

I have missed him so much. I want him. My body is reacting, against all sense. God, I am in love with him. I can feel him begin to react. It sends a thrill through me like nothing else. I want him. I want this.

My sister is in my bedroom.

That thought somehow bubbles up through the lust and loneliness I've been feeling ever since he left me. I am such a slut.

I pull away. Some reason coming back to me. Some bitterness as well.

"What's wrong?" He asks. As if he doesn't know.

"You love Alice now, remember? Why are you here? What do you want?"

"I want you." he says.

"Liar. What do you really want?" I demand. I stand up and look down at him, his slowly wilting erection at the bottom edge of my vision. He is starting to look angry. He is acting as if I am slow or something. Like I should know exactly what is going on right now.

"I want to sleep with you. I want you. Isn't that obvious?" He makes a slight gesture down. I don't look.

"I don't want you."

"Now who is the liar?" he says sarcastically. "You miss me. I know you do."

"Of course I do. But you made your choice. You've already hurt me enough. Get out." I go to the door.

"I want the engagement ring back."

I stop. A knife just slit my throat. It just stabbed into my back, through my heart and then slit my throat. A pain I didn't know was possible punches the air out of my chest. I can't breathe. I turn toward him. He has stood up from the couch, no sign of love or lust anymore. He has the audacity to look a little guilty.

"That was your master plan? Seduce me to get the ring back? Am I a whore? You think I'd even want to sleep with you, after everything you've done to me? You think I'll be so grateful for the attention I'll give you back the ring? Are you wanting it so you don't have to buy another for her?" I tug at the simple silver band with one white sapphire surrounded by tiny pink diamonds.

"I just want it back. What does it matter what I do with it?" he shouts.

"Then take it!" I cry, throwing it at him. "Take it and get the fuck out of my house!"

"This isn't what I wanted, Abra." he says, softly. "Let's just talk a moment."

"No," I say, the tears streaming down my cheeks. "you made your choice and we are done talking. Please, leave."

I open the door. Tears still streaming down my face. He shakes his head, picks up the ring and walks out. I slam the door behind him and scream.

Sophie runs out as I collapse in front of the door. Being a perfect little sister, she holds me while I cry. Again. And, just like that, the little piece of my heart that my mother had put back in place splinters.

"We don't have to go, Abe." says Sophie. She holds me and croons, like a mother to her baby.

"That's sweet, So." I say. "But I want to go. I have to get out of this apartment for a little while. Let's finish getting ready."

Though she looks unsure, my sister trusts me. We stand up and head toward the bathroom.

While Sophie finishes her make-up in the bathroom, I slip into a blood red strapless gown. I curl my hair and put on mascara. I have a bit of a natural flush from crying so the only other make-up I use is a dab of lipstick. Sitting at my vanity, I wipe away another tear.

He thought, nay believed, I would sleep with him. Believed I would then turn around and give him my engagement ring. The one we scrimped and saved for. The one he slipped on my finger under the white Christmas lights draped over a gazebo in the park.

And I almost fell for it. I almost believed he still loved me. Foolishly, I mistook lust and greed for love. How could I have loved someone for so long and still know nothing about him? Worst of all, I almost went through with this while my younger sister hid in my room. Waiting for me to take her to her homecoming dance.

I feel so guilty right now. I truly am a brazen hussy. My self-worth just hit an all time low. No one could bring it any lower. I am beating myself like I stole something.

Sophie comes in behind me. She is wearing a glittery blue satin gown. She looks beautiful and perfect. I don't want anyone to hurt her, ever. Not like I've been hurt. Not like I'm hurting now. It hurts to realize I can't protect her from heartbreak anymore than I can give her the moon. I wish I could.

"Are you ready, Abe?" Sophie sweeps a stray curl back into place.

Wiping away one more stray tear, I smile and nod.

Upon our arrival at the high school, Sophie looks around expectantly. I realize she has a date meeting her here. Even though I don’t know what he looks like, I glance around as well. I don’t find her date, but I see someone I’d like to have as mine.

Noticing that I’m staring, Sophie leans in to whisper.

“That’s Mr. Reed. He’s my History teacher. All of the girls in my class think he is dreamy. What do you think, Abe?”

I think he is gorgeous, if a little nerdy looking. He has longer red hair, tied back in a ponytail. He has magnificent green eyes, at least what I can see of them from here. His glasses don’t help me see them either. He is tall. Taller than David. He is thinner than I generally like, but I can deal with that. Its not like this is going to be a long relationship.

“He is okay,” I say. I brush off any further comments by taking Sophie’s hand and leading her into the school gymnasium.

The gym is decorated with ribbons in the school colors, orange and blue. A few strobe lights dance around creating a make-shift disco effect. There is punch and cookies donated by the Mothers Against Drunk Driving (MADD) organization as well as tea sandwiches donated by the Historical Society.

The music isn’t exactly amazing, but they do play some current pop and hip-hop. The kids seem to be enjoying themselves at least. The teachers are scattered around the room, including Mr. Reid who has come in from supervising the entrance.

At first I pretend to sip my punch and watch my sister dancing with her girl-friends. Secretly, I’m watching Mr. Reid. He looks to be about thirty, maybe a little younger than that. That’s when I notice another handsome gentleman, this one probably almost forty. He looks a little like a mixture of Clark Gable and Sam Eliot. Not bad looking at all and not entirely out of my age range. I decide to go and talk to him. I don’t know why.

When I come near, I realize he is talking to another teacher. His voice is gravelly, like Sam Eliot’s. I hear the other teacher call him Mr. Samson. That intrigues me. Samson, huh? Handsome, sexy voice and a strong name. I like this Mr. Samson already.

I politely wait until he and the female teacher, Ms. Emery as he called her, are finished talking and she has walked away. He looks at me and smiles. He has a great smile too.

“I’m Abra,” I say, extending my hand.

“Clark Samson.” He replies. He has a firm handshake and some beautifully rugged hands. I feel heat filling up my cheeks. I feel like I’m on fire. I try to remember that I am a brazen hussy and this is the norm for me. I act cool, removed. At least I try to.

“What subject do you teach, Mr. Samson?” I frantically think of every movie where a girl seduces a man. They always use their eyes. Or their breasts, but that is currently out of the question.

“Latin, as well as the history of the Roman Empire.” What a sexy topic.

“Really? That’s very interesting. I took Latin when I was in school. Admittedly the only thing I can clearly remember is ‘Veni Vidi Vici’.” I laugh inwardly when I see the sparkle in his eyes at my brash attitude. I have come and I have seen, though I have yet to conquer. That may change in a moment, however.

Clearly won over by my insanity, or my low cut strapless dress, Mr. Samson asks if I’d like to go for a drink after the dance. I acquiesce, saying that I would be willing to meet him somewhere if he’d like. We agree to meet at “The Wilford and Brimley” at one o’ clock. I give him my name and number on a paper napkin, give a saucy wink and go back toward my sister.

Sophie seems to have the time of her life. Though, every now and then, I’ll catch her looking around for someone that she never seems to find. She doesn’t dance with any of the boys there. I begin to feel angry for her. What jerk wouldn’t show up to a homecoming dance that he promised to attend with his girlfriend?

Except, this seems oddly familiar. David never showed up to our homecoming dance either. I waited all night for him. And Alice.

Sick to my stomach, I lurch into the bathroom. I spit in the toilet and hold my breath for a moment. This pushes some of the nausea down, but not enough. I try to be quiet as I get sick. Not that anyone can hear me with the music blaring in the gym.

They have been doing this for years. I have been with David since we were twelve. Alice has been my best friend (well, ex-best friend now) since we were ten. Have they been together behind my back for that long? I can’t even begin to comprehend this. Why continue to lead me on, if they were in love with each other? Why even propose? Why go through with the planning when he knew all along that he wasn’t actually in love with me?

I can’t make sense of this. I get sick again trying to. In the mean time, I’m sure my sister is looking for me, as well as this mysterious date. I’m supposed to be chaperoning, making sure nothing goes horrifically wrong. Except everything is going horrifically wrong in my stomach and my heart.

When I gain some composure I go back to the gym. Everyone is starting to wrap things up. Sophie’s friends are asking her to go with them to the bowling alley for a homecoming party. She declines politely. She looks like she might cry.

In the car she tells me that Nathan, a boy she has a crush on, promised to come to homecoming with her. They said they’d meet in front of the school, but he never showed up. She cries, softly, as I take her home. There is nothing I can do to ease the pain. I felt the same way as my mother drove me home from homecoming.

We are quiet on the way to Mom’s house. I have nothing to say to make it better. Kate Bush sings on my radio. We never really stop running up that hill, do we? I look over at my beautiful sister. She is still crying. Her mascara is running down her cheeks in inky trails. I hate myself right now. I hate this Nathan person for causing her to cry like I have for so many days now. I hate the whole world.

When we get to Mom’s house, Sophie gets out of the car and runs straight to her room. I go and sit in the living room. Mom will be home any moment from her art class at the community college. I don’t want to leave Sophie to Mom, but at the same time I remember Mr. Samson and “The Wilford and Brimley”. I look at the clock. It is ten-thirty. It isn’t even close to time.

Feeling extremely guilty for even considering leaving my sister in her time of need, I resign myself to staying here. I go upstairs and knock on Sophie’s door.

“Sophie, honey? Can I come in?”

“Go home, Abe. I don’t want to talk right now.” She sounds like she is sobbing out the words rather than saying them.

“Sweetie, let me in. At least to give you a hug.” What can I do, if she won’t open the door? Downstairs I can hear my mother coming in. Just as I almost give up and go back downstairs, Sophie opens the door. She flies into my arms and cries like the world will end. I stroke her hair and tell her everything will be all right. Everything will be okay. She asks me when and I have no answer to give.

My mother comes upstairs at the sound of crying. She sees me holding my sobbing sister and she doesn’t have to ask. She remembers this scene. As do I. Except it was Anna and I, five years ago. Without a word she goes back downstairs and makes some cups of cocoa and a plate of cookies. I coax Sophie downstairs. Once we are downstairs Mom gives her a hug and they go sit on the couch. I follow, unsure of what to do.

We sit with her for a couple of hours. She cries herself out and eventually just falls asleep in my mother’s lap. Its two AM when my mother sends me home.

“There is nothing else to do for a broken heart,” she says.

I don’t want to go home, though I am sure that Mr. Samson is no longer at “The Wilford and Brimley.” Even though I’m sure he isn’t there any longer I decide to go for a drink anyway. I could use one after everything that has been happening recently.

On the drive I listen to a mixed CD that a friend made me. It is a list of break-up songs. Angry songs, sad songs, wish I could die songs. Her heart was in the right place, but I wish she hadn’t made it. I do enjoy some of them. Some of them fit David and I. And when I hear it I think about everything and I get teary. Like the one playing now. It is by a Korean artist.

“I’m drowning myself in the memories of love…” That sounds about right.

When I arrive at the bar Rihanna is singing about the theatrics of an ex. I don’t hesitate to turn it off. I can’t handle any more sad songs. Right now I couldn’t handle a love song either. I need angry music. Maybe when I get home I’ll listen to Apocalyptica, they are usually what I need for angry cello music.

Without paying attention, still musing on break-up songs and other such topics, I almost walk right by Mr. Samson. I look up and am met with his lavender eyes, sparkling like they were in the gymnasium.

“I am surprised you are still here,” I say, looking down at my watch. It’s a quarter to three. Almost two hours after we were supposed to meet.

“A beautiful lady is worth waiting for.” He says.