Fiction: Legal Theft-- Flying Home

The truth of the matter was that he had absolutely never expected to see her again. Not that he didnt want to see her again, of course, it was simply that he didn't expect to. She was only in the country for a couple of months, then she would return to her own home. This was his home, so he wasn't going anywhere. It was a natural and easily defined expiration date for their relationship. He fully expected for the goodbyes to be sad and full of promises to keep in touch, but eventually they would fade complete out of contact as time went on, until they were just a happy memory of a good fling they had over a summer. What he absolutely did not expect, was two weeks after her departure, he would at the airport, buying his own ticket to her home town. He never expected to get into a cab, ride to the address she'd given him to write to, and when she opened the door, to kiss her like he had never kissed anyone before.
When the kiss ended, she put her hand softly on his chest and pushed him back a step or two. "George. Not that I'm not extremely glad to see you, but what on earth are you doing here?"
"Ellie, we've got to work something out. You were gone for thirteen days and I already can't stand it. The has to be a way." Ellie smiled up at him, but didn't say anything. "I mean, I'll move here if you want me to, but I know that you also love London, so you could move there with me. Or we could work out some sort of visiting schedule if you dont want us to move, but I cannot stay away from you anymore. So, please, please, tell me we can figure something out because I just cannot take this anymore." George finished his little rant, slightly out of breath.
Ellie smiled a little wider, and shook her head slightly. "George, do you want to come inside?"
"Yes please, thank you." Ellie stepped out of the way, and george entered the foyer.
"Tea?" Ellie offered and gestured for George to follow her down the hallway. Once they each had a mug of tea and had taken a seat at the table in the Kitchen, Ellie turned her full attention back to George. "We can't be rash about this."
"Oh, but we can. And we should. And soon. God, Ellie, ive missed you so terribly." George wanted to kiss her again, but he knew that would. It go over well with her, so he stayed in his seat.
Ellie smiled, and took a slow sip of her tea. "Well, as much as I love your enthusiasm, Georgie, we have to think this through. We will both be miserable in a month if we don't make a rational and reasonable decision about this. Or at. The very least--I will be miserable, and if I'm miserable than you know I will be absolutely no fun to be around." George didn't say anything, but took a longer sip of necessary on his tea. "You see, you know I'm right."
George set his mug down on the table and looked at Ellie evenly. "Well, I have just one favor to ask then."
"Oh?"
"Can we forget rationally and reasonableness for just one night and focus on the grand romantic gesture me flying here to declare my love is?"
Ellie placed her mug down, crossed around the table and sat carefully on George's lap. "You know," she kissed him softly, "I think I can. Just for tonight."

Fiction: Legal Theft Project-- Old Friends.

Ilene posted the following notice on every floor of her apartment building when her old college friends came to visit: "The Ladies of the 202 club would like to apologize for any loud noises or otherwise indecent behavior that may occur from their visitation this weekend. If you feel in anyway wronged, please submit your complaints to apartment 21B, and we will rectify the situation as soon as possible."

Morgan, kindly referred to as "The New Roommate" even though she had lived with Ilene for the five years since she had left college, wondered if the signs were strictly necessary the first time the college friends came to visit.  She tried to talk Ilene out of hanging the signs, and then laughed when Ilene headed out to post the signs.  But after that first visit, three fires, one pant-less voyage into a random hall, and two extremely loud and entirely off key renditions of Maroon 5 songs, Morgan apologized for mocking the signs, and helped to hang the signs in all other visits.

Ilene often found herself doing household chores for her neighbors above and below her. She had to buy Mrs. Anderson in 53D a new front door. She's had to pay for a carpet steam clean on three of the five halls of the apartment complex. Almost every time she got together with her college friends, there was property damage.

She wouldn't change it for anything.

 The first line of this story was legally stolen from my dear friend Gwen. See what she did with the line I gave her today, and see what she originally wrote for this starting line tomorrow over at http://apprenticenevermaster.wordpress.com/.

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Thank You For Not

Smoking is disgusting. I know that this shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone, because anyone who has paid any attention to all the warnings knows that there is all kinds of cancers and tar and problems in smoking. But, if you want to poison yourself—Well, I guess have at it. I'll stay away from your home, and you can tar your lungs out to your hearts content.

However—Do not blow smoke in my face. That's really all I want. I understand that on rainy days smokers would like to hang out under covers and the like, but try not to block the door ways to businesses, and do not blow smoke intentionally into people's faces as they come out. Ignoring the cancer, the tar, the bad smell. and all that other stuff—It's just plain rude to get in someone's face like that.

So—Yeah. I may have reported an employee at my local grocery store today. But I genuinely thought I was going to be sick.

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Thoughts on the Future...again

So. It's officially been decided that I am going to move back to Good Ol' Virginia Beach when my lease is up in Shelton at the end of May. The current plan is to get my job at Starbucks to transfer down there, to live with my parents, to hopefully pay less a month for rent and bills than I am paying now, and to work on saving up as much as I can. Why saving? Oh, because I plan on doing something very, very stupid with my money when I get a chance. That's not a joke, that is genuinely my life plan. Save up money, and then do something extremely stupid with it.

My current stupid thought is to move to London with nothing but the money that I save. I won't be able to work there without a proper visa, so it might literally be a case of just going and staying as long as I can until I run out of money. In a perfect world, I'd use the time to write the next bestselling novel phenomenon, I'd find a beautiful, kind man with an excellent accent, make loads of money, get married, and never have to worry about anything again. I wish there was a checklist to follow to make that plan happen, but really it's just a case of crossing my fingers, hoping really hard, and trying to build up some good karma before then.

That, and writing. All the time. As much as I can. Because Practice makes perfect, right?

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Well--That Worked Well

So, I decided to re-claim my blog, and then completely forgot to post yesterday. Ah well, I suppose that is very much 'me.' Energy and determination one day, completely out of mind the next. These things happen. These things mostly happen because I'm watching television and forget to consult my to do list. I got sucked back into some DVDs of mine that I'd hadn't watched in ages. Yes, I am going to talk about Gilmore Girls and my thoughts on the characters in the show, so feel free to stop reading now if you don't care about such things, or are afraid of spoilers. I promise not to be offended.

I was watching Season Seven, which is in a way almost it's own different show from the rest of the series. The creator of the show left, taking with her several writers, and her idea of how the show should end. Luke and Lorelai were split up for a whole series of reasons, Logan is in London, and Lorelai is “casually dating” the father of her child. Now, I'm a Java Junkie with the heart of them (That is a Luke/Lorelai shipper) but watching Lorelai and Christopher in these dates here at the beginning of season seven, it makes me sad that they couldn't get together. It would be adorable for Rory's parents to end up together, and Lorelai makes a point that Chris grew up with her, understood where she came from, and really understood her in a lot of ways. Its a shame that I know where the series goes, and I know where Christopher messes up in big ways. Not to mention the mistakes he had made in the past. And—Luke and Lorelai are just so cute I can't bring myself to ship anyone else.

Well, there it is, time to reclaim my blog with opinions on a tv show that has been off the air for (oh goodness) six years now. Cheers.

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Oops

So, as you may have noticed—I've been extremely slack on posting here, with the exception of my Legal Theft with Gwen. I've come up with an excuse for that. I've somehow gotten it into my head that what gets posted here has to be something deep and meaningful and in some way really well written before I could even consider uploading it. I've had a nice long think about that and I've come to a simple conclusion.

Fuck that.

(Pardon my language.)

The truth of it all is that this blog is my creation. I can write whatever I want on here. If someone doesn't like it, doesn't find it to be deep and meaningful, then they can not read it. If they think it's not worthy of being on the internet, well, then I can send them to something equally if not more inane then anything I could possibly write up. If the general public doesn't understand, well, too bad, they don't have to read it.

So, this is me dedicating myself to actually posting again. Even if it's inane. Even if it's just me going on about something I read and liked (Warm Bodies). Even if it's me squeeing over a new show I'm enjoying (BBC's Sherlock) . Even if it's the slightly embarrassed admittance of my new Celebrity Crushes (Benedict Cumberbatch). Even if it's just me making a fool of myself. I'm re-claiming my blog to be mine.

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Fiction: Legal Theft Project -- American in London

The worst thing about hanging out with his friends was that she tended to lose her own accent.  She'd had slight hearing problems her whole life, so she second-guessed how words were pronounced even on the best of days, but when they hung out with his friends, she was surround by three different English accents, a Scottish accent, two very distinct Irish accents, and a thick Russian accent.  Her mid-Atlantic American accent never stood a chance.

By the end of the night, even if she didn't have a drop of alcohol in her system, her words got a little bit slurred, her mouth not sure how to form the words correctly.  Sometimes, the boys even turned it into a game.  Who could influence her accent the most?  At the end of the night, who could make her sound the most like him?  She didn't mind all that much.  It was friendly, and all in good fun.  Besides, many of them were just impressed by her ability to mimic their accents so closely when she really put her mind to it. 

Besides, it was a small price to pay for the fun nights out.  They were absurd in a way that only a group of old friends could be.  They were that slightly stilted dirty in a way that only a group of old friends could be with a new significant other present and had received a wave of warnings to not scare her off.  They were chalk full of good blackmail worthy stories, and an excellent resource when trying to come up with a good present or surprise.  So what if she ended up sounding like some strange combination of Scotty and Chekov with a little bit of Harry Potter thrown in at the end of the night?  It was a good excuse to watch some good ol' American TV before bed.

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