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| ¿Por que te vás?it's been fun, xanga.
really.
http://lulurosa.wordpress.com
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| someday my prince will come...when I got home last night, I watched Barbie as Rapunzel with Lydi-loo and Glenda. It reminded me of how great princess love stories are when your a girl...and how much I love being one...
...and it reminded me of this poem I wrote. let's hear it for poetry. oh, how I miss it.
What Is True Love--To Kill For Or To Kiss?
(the true, but lesser known hero of Snow White)
Dear Snow White, I will not let you die.
Run--as fast as angel wings fly
Away--never come back
Undying devotion--a mere servant's gift to this face of innocence
Deceive the wretched witch to save the blessed child, Man
Take up the knife, slaughter the sacrifice
Of unclean flesh--
Once cool and clean turns now to bloody knife
What once was full of life, is now an empty chest
Redemption beats in a velvet-lined box
Cursed Queen, where is thy grasp now?
For secrets go to the grave
In forests black as this--
Black as the eyes that make this man willing to risk it all
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| the great american roadtrip? hmm...i had to interview an international student and do a profile on them for creative non-fiction. of all the possibilities...hahaha.
The Great American Roadtrip.
Pushing his shaggy, auburn curls across his forehead with his fingertips, Conor McNally asked, "Do you party hard, Ashley?"
On the first day of Eng 215, Conor appeared to be nothing out of the ordinary--a typical American college student, besides the slight foreign touch his European football jersey added. No one took any special notice in him, sitting in the back of the class, quite relaxed. He looked like he'd been here for years. But when it was his turn to talk about himself in class, it all changed. His thick Irish accent came pouring out in quick, stammering sentences, and all heads turned to see the "boy with the accent." After a few trys, Conor managed to communicate that he was fresh off the plane from Ireland, arriving only three days before classes began. He was not impressed so far with North Carolina, to say the least. But then again, it had only been a week.
His only other exposure to America up to this point was a brief trip to New York City.
"Do you party hard?" he asked, interrupting my memories of my first encounter with him, which was only weeks prior to our conversation. I decided to ignore his pressing question and choose another topic. After all, I had never met anyone really from Ireland before.
"I loved growing up in Belfast. The humour amongst my friends and the majority of people I come across is definitely different to what I've come across in the States, so far--I have only been here a month. But people here seem A LOT more sensitive and easier to offend. There isn't a lot of cursing here either or a whole lot of drinking and drugs." That makes sense. Obscene jokes, constant cursing and crazy parties ignited his teenage years, leaving Conor with many fond memories of home. I can say this with surety from the wistful manner he relates his extra-curricular activities back home, including his many assisting adjectives in the delivery. "I really do find myself having to be more reserved and I find it very easy to shock people with jokes, etc. when that isn't my intention." I have no idea why.
"Do you party? You know, party hard?" he asked me, after only a few more minutes of conversation. Avoiding the topic once again, we went on to why he decided to come here. What made him chose to come to America? His answer is one of the most interesting reasons I cold have ever imagined I would hear.
"I went backpacking for six months in Australia. It was probably the best six months I've ever had in consistence. Unbelievable fun. So many beautiful girls, mainly Swedish, and loads of interesting characters." Conor not only saw many beautiful Swedish girls, but also that blessed movie depicting college life as amazing parties, one night stands with beautiful girls, and porno tapes--Road Trip. With it, he decided America was the place for him. Six weeks later, her was off to...
"I didn't actually choose to study at State for any particular reason, I only had a few options and I originally thought I was coming to UNC. No joke." He surprisingly takes it with a laugh, his main qualm about it all being the fact that there aren't enough parties. And, the drinking laws, something poor twenty year-old Conor will have to endure either until April or until his friend from back home ships him a fake ID.
"Do you know any parties, you know partying hard? Hard partying parties going on this weekend?" he asked, once again, in the middle of a sentence. After assuring him that I did not in fact know of any parties and that I did not "party party hard," he refrained from asking any more, but was obviously confused about why I wouldn't know these things. Suddenly, the conversation got much more serious.
"The bad thing about Belfast is the sectarianism. If you meet the wrong people in a nightclub or end up in an area of varied religion you will get beaten up or worse. I am a Catholic so when I was growing up I would receive peer pressure to hate Protestants, etc. I live in an area in Belfast also in which large Protestant areas lie directly beside Catholic areas and so growing up I would be involved in fighting or being chased by other groups when you're simply going to a friend's etc. Everyone gets very used to living this way though." I had heard of the religion dichotomy before in Ireland, but never really understood what it was like. When Conor asked me what kind of Christian I was, I wasn't sure how to reply. When he said he was Catholic, I figured out what he was talking about. Then, I got nervous, I didn't want him to hit me. "I used to be Catholic," I said, "But I'm Protestant now." He didn't mind at all.
Going on, Conor explained how it was just the normal way of life, growing up in Belfast, "for example you know not to wear a certain football top in certain areas because some are directly linked with being either Protestant or Catholic. The Celtic Football Club is affiliated with Catholics and Rangers Football Club with Protestants. It is strange to go to other countries where this doesn't exist, although I know in America there is a lot of racism and violence in general." He didn't elaborate, but it was obvious that he had an understanding of this element of American culture prior to coming here. From there, we had a lovely conversation, discussing trivial things such as politics, news coverage, Bush and transubstantiation.
I asked what his impressions of the country were so far. But, in a month of living here, Conor hasn't left State's campus. He would like to though, because he's heard that there are some killer parties at off-campus houses. He's hoping to make some American friends so that he can party with them. I wished him the best of luck.
Although Conor is still getting used to his boring life in America, he has a pretty good attitude about it all. Who knows, if he does decide to stick it out and stay, he may even make it to UNC.
As he walked away, Conor turned to me with a bewildered smile and said, "That was the most serious conversation I've had since I've gotten here." I couldn't help but laugh.
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| makeup and magnolias...here is my first short story of the year (and basically, ever)...i figured i might as well use my resources...any feedback is wonderful!
makeup and magnolias
She didn’t want to move to North Carolina. Annie reminisced about the past as she carefully, gently, patted the flesh-toned concealer under her fragile, black eye. She stopped and stared in the mirrorâ€â€at this stage of it, her blue-green eye matched the mark under it almost perfectly. She kept patting, methodically, as one would if it was accustomed to such tasks. Annie was. She had only been in North Carolina three months. Now, in a little place called Duncan, Annie made her home. Her husband had talked her into moving here from Philadelphia, and it was a culture shock to say the least. She felt as if the only other beings around she could talk to were the horses from the neighboring horse farm, and they only cared if she brought along sugar cubes.
There was one place that Annie did love, though even she thought it a strange choice. In the field next to her house, there stood a lonely graveyard. A modern antiquity of Southern life decayed. Another might pass by with merely a shiver, but Annie thought it was breathtaking. Two magnificent magnolia trees loomed over the conglomeration of different types and age headstones and footstones, and four wooden posts enclosed itâ€â€there was no fence, only those four straight posts with rocks piled on either side. It gave the impression that once there was a high, somber wall surrounding the sacred place, but it seemed likely there never was. The thing that drew Annie to it daily was the peace that surrounded it. Silence was the only sound, except for an occasional mockingbird or a light breeze rustling the fingers of the magnolias. Annie knew no peace except for this place. The names inscribed on the stones were those of old, who had met their maker decades before, never to experience the pain again, the pain that Annie felt daily. She coveted their peace, yet drew from the strength of the place, the nature in full bloom, to prepare for what the day at hand may throw at her. She met God here, of all places, for the first time in her life. Wanting to die, Annie found her life before her eyes as a faint song, and hoped every day for the aria to sink into the sunset. But somehow, she managed through another day, each time with a smile.
As Annie finished applying her makeup over her bruise, she paused. Jason told me things would get better once we got out of there, she thought. Jason, her husband of only ten months, had managed to persuade her to leave all she had ever known and move to, what she considered, this godforsaken place below the Mason-Dixon Line. She loved him more than anything, but he beat her terribly. She knew deep down that he loved her, he had to. So when he came to her and asked her to move away from the life she’d always known, she had to do itâ€â€he said that he was sorry for how he had treated her, and that he would change. He was just under a lot of stress right now, with work.
Annie thought about that conversation for a moment. Workâ€â€it had been troubling her for some time now, but she was afraid to ask any unnecessary questions, for fear of upsetting him. The truth was she didn’t even really know what he did. He was a business man, he said he ran his family’s tire business, but his older brother Nick seemed to know a lot more about things there. But it was a small, dirty store, and Jason’s hours put in at the store and his large rolls of cash in his wallet just didn’t seem to fit.
The funny thing about Jason and his family was, he looked nothing like them. His brother Nick and his cousin Michael looked very Italianâ€â€they even had the accent to prove it. Jason was blonde and fair with no trace of Italian heritage. Also, they were the only two family members she had ever met. Supposedly, Jason’s parents had died when he was young, but sometimes he talked about them as if they were still alive.
He had come in, swept her off her feet with his good looks and wonderful deep voice, and she never questioned him. She wanted to, when he’d come in late at night, saying he’d been working late and smelling of smoke, but she learned early not to ask such questions. He had a temper, to say the least, but he never showed any signs until after they were married. Before the vows, he was a prince, after “I do†he became a monster.
I believed him, she thought. She managed a chuckle, though her side was still tender. He works just as much now, and I’m still his stupid punching bag, she was surprised at her outright anger with this statement. Ever since she was a child, Annie was the most gracious, gentle soul you would ever encounter in her small but bustling neighborhood in South Philadelphia. Never yelling, never getting flustered, when Annie was upset, she would simply cryâ€â€silently. But over the past month, Annie had found herself becoming stronger than she ever had before. It was harder and harder not to talk back to Jason when he’d start yelling about this, or how his food was cold, or how his good shirt was wrinkled.
She believed she was being prepared for something, with her newfound voice and spirit, and now she was sure of it. In the wastebasket to her left, there was a pregnancy test lying on top of the rest of the contents. It had two distinct pink lines on itâ€â€there was no mistaking anything, Annie was pregnant.
Shaking with both excitement and fear, Annie busied herself around the bathroom, tidying up everything she possibly could to make its appearance nothing short of pristine. With a final wipe of the counter to clear away any possible makeup residue, Annie hurried into the kitchen. The time had flown byâ€â€it was almost eleven, and Jason would be on his way home for lunch. She didn’t have much time to prepare for his arrival.
#
Jason pushed his plate away with a satisfied grunt, leaned back in his chair, and stared at her. Annie felt the blood rushing up to her throat and cheeks, and she looked away, shamefully. She was terrible at keeping secrets, especially if she was asked what was bothering her. But she was so scared of Jason when he had that look in his eye, now was not the time to tell him her news. He had come home half drunk, obviously “working hard,†as he would say. By now, Annie was used to this charade, Jason coming home blasted, demanding perfection from her and the house, and shooting off his mouth, and fists, if it failed to meet his glassy-eyed approval. And she was tired of it all.
#
After wiping the crumbs away from her own place at the table a dozen or more times, Annie quickly stood and began clearing the lunch remains. A few trips to the kitchen, she had the table empty except for Jason’s plate. He didn’t like to feel rushed from the table after he finished a meal. As he sat lounging in his dining room chair, slowly drinking the black coffee Annie poured for him moments before, Annie gestured for his plate. He looked at her, looked down, and nodded. Annie reached to clear his plate and, as swift as a cat with a mouse, Jason was up and had her arm in a stalwart grip with his formidable hand. She jumped. A whimper of surprise leapt from her and, instinctively, she froze. A look of dark concern waved across Jason’s chestnut eyes. “What, are you scared of me Annie?†he asked grimly.
She had no reply. She stood there with her head down, staring at the plate that was almost in her reach.
He glared at her. His voice growing louder, “Do you think I’m going to hurt you? Why? Am I the bad guy now?â€Â
“No, of course not,†she said meekly.
“Then what is going on here? You’re hiding something from me, I know it. Don’t you lie to me Annie,†he said.
“It’s nothing Jason, I’m just tired,†she said.
“Tired?? I work night and dayâ€â€I SLAVE for you, and you’re tired? I’ll show you what tired feels like, you spoiled brat,†he said. He raised his massive arm, and swung.
She felt the rush of air pushing on her from the coming storm of Jason’s arm. With no time to think, she shut her eyes and prepared for the blow. But suddenly, a hot mass swelled within her chest, traveling upwards to her head. Her heart raced with passion, she would not let him hurt her anymore. With instinct she never knew she had, she jumped out of the way, slapping him square in the face with her delicate, ivory hand. “Jason, don’t you dare hit me,†she said, her voice calm, low, and collected. She looked him dead in the eye, “Ever.â€Â
Jason stood there, speechless. He was fuming; she could see it in his eyes. “What…did you just say to me?†he asked, shaking.
“You heard me, Jason. Leave me alone. I won’t let you hurt me,†she said, calmly, “or my baby.â€Â
“If you ever talk to me like that again, Annie, so help me…†he trailed off, and his expression suddenly lightened. “Your what?†he asked. He had a huge grin on his face now. “You’re pregnant, Annie? I’m going to be a dad?†he said.
“Yes Jason, I-I just found out this morning. I was going to tell you asâ€â€Ã¢â‚¬Âshe didn’t have a chance to finish before
Jason picked her up and spun her around, kissed her, and sat her down as gently as one would an egg. “You’re not mad, then?†she asked.
“Mad? Of course not! Oh, Annie, I’m so sorry I lost my temper. Is the baby OK?†he asked, gently patting her slim, flat stomach.
“Oh yes, I’m sure it is,†she said. Annie was overjoyed at the change she saw in her husband. It had to be sincere, she just knew it. She had prayed for this moment, but this was beyond her imagination.
#
Annie heard the rocks on the driveway rumble. Who in the world could that be, she thought. Jason, with his full stomach from lunch, was asleep on the couch while Annie was folding the laundry. She peeked out the side window to see a black Cadillac come to a stop at the top of the driveway. It had New Jersey tags. Figuring it was for Jason, she felt it best to stay in the laundry room and let him answer the door. Annie had learned that Jason’s new business partners were his concern, not hers. He didn’t like her to even speak to them and, though she didn’t understand why he felt so, she didn’t mind. In all honesty, they gave her the creeps.
The doorbell rang. It was immediately followed by sound rapping on their front door. Annie heard Jason groan slightly and then huff in frustration as he pulled himself up off the couch, muttering all the way to the front door. When he opened it, Annie hardly recognized her husband’s voice.
“Nick? What are you doing all the way down here? How you been?†he asked. He chuckled nervously. Even from the other room, Annie felt the air had grown thick enough to cut.
“Hey Jason,†Nick said, “Surprised to see me? I’m sure you didn’t think we’d never see each other again. I mean, you knew I’d find you eventually. Or did you forget about our businessâ€â€again.â€Â
“What? N-No of course not. Are you crazy? I was meaning to give you a call, but I-I’ve been so busy around here getting things settled in, and I lost your number. I mean my phone. I lost my phone. Can you believe that? Heh,†Jason said.
Annie had never heard him so nervous, especially around Nick. She was even starting to breathe quickly herself.
She needed to get out for some fresh air.
Walking out the back door, quietly, so as not to disturb the men, Annie caught a few last words.
“Hey Nick, sorry about the greeting, you’ve gotta excuse me, I’m just surprised to see you, you know? But, get this, I’ve got the best news…â€Â
Then, Annie shut the door.
#
Out in the sunshine, Annie started to feel better. The warm air played with her soft, long blonde hair, calling her out into the lush, green pasture. Her graveyard was there; she needed to go spend time there for a while. Having that many people around her, caring for her, brought her great joy. She wanted her baby to understand the importance of love. She knew it sounded crazyâ€â€dead people, loving and caring for her. But once you’ve felt the pain of the actions of those you love, the absence of those actions causes you to feel cared for. She felt safe in the graveyard, nowhere else. It would still be a long time before she felt safe around Jason.
As she neared the line of trees that separated her property from the field, she heard a man yell. Then, an explosion rang through the trees out into the fieldsâ€â€a gunshot. A flock of crows in one of the tall pines Annie was under shot out like shrapnel from the blast. She froze, and her insides jumped within her. It came from inside the house. She stood there motionless, rigid, listening. As the birds flew off over the tree line, the rocks in the driveway quieted from the tires of the Cadillac now soaring down the road. Annie’s face was as beautiful as ever, and a diamond glistened as it fell down her cheek. She wasn’t in the trees anymore. Like a beacon of light, in a sea of flowing green, she was walking away.
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