The Story So Far:Alice and me got about ninety miles outta Paso Robles ‘for we ended up with a flat tire. Flats ain’t no big thing… If you got a jack, which we don’t, ’cause goofy Alice forgot to put it back in my trunk. She took it out t’ make room for a small freezer she bought, and neglected to tell me ’bout. We currently lookin’ at it, an’ it’s currently stuffed t’ the gills with ice cream sandwiches.
I could see what she done. She routed a long extension wire t’ the back seat cigarette lighter. Apparently, this freezer designed t’ run on a car battery, an’ it been drainin’ my battery for a day an’ a half now. No wonder I had a hard time startin’ it.
I love old music! Nothing cooler than some vintage pop and sexy videos.
Just at the moment, my favorite song is Fastball’s The Way. It has religious themes hidden in it and a very cool video that has nothing to do with that. Makes me wanna bellydance like the two girls in a trailer. LOL!
The Story So Far:This just keeps getting’ weirder and weirder. On a road trip to watch out for my spooky friend, Alice, we done been through a motel fire, ’nuff nutty-buddies to feed an elementary school, and what’s left of Marilyn Monroe (circa 1954). Now I’m havin’ a conversation with one of the voices in Alice’s head, some woman named Sedna. She seems to have took over little chika’s body and changed Alice’s eyes from brown to blue. This thing so freaky I keep waitin’ for Rod Serling t’ show up. He ’bout the only one I ain’t seen yet.
The Story So Far:Me an’ Alice stuck in Paso Robles until chika ends her 24-hour nap. That’s what Gretchen done tol’ me. Alice is awake fo’ 48 hours, then out like a light for 24. By 10 AM, I done slept all I’m gonna sleep. I got bored on the laptop, so I lied in bed and watched the show. Alice is entertainin’ as hell when she sleep.
I dunno if Alice hears her voices while she naps, but if she does, she must be hearin’ Marilyn Monroe sing. Marilyn, circa 1954, is currently takin’ up residence inside my strange friend’s mind and it shows. Alice don’t lie still when she sleep, she twitch and rub against the bed like she dancin’ and she sings, kinda. At that moment, she was singin’ “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend” in a low mutter and movin’ like she on a Hollywood sound stage. I suppose it could be worse. It coulda been Cindy Lauper in her head. Then I’d have to kill her.
The holidays are a crazy time around our place, and always have been. When Lacy and I were kids, Mom and Dad reveled in the year-end activities, but somehow it all ended up like “A Christmas Story” on acid. Well, that spirit of weirdness followed us from Maine to California. To be honest, I’ve seen enough here in Los Angeles to convince me that people are strange in this city and it’s only a matter of time before the nuts are running the asylum. Some people would argue that they already do, but as long as the traffic lights continue to flash red, yellow, and green in the proper order, I have hope that we’re all just going through a phase and will survive another year.
My sister Lacy recently called me a know-it-all. While I was very touched by her flattery, I don’t really know everything. I should probably go back to college, but I’m not ready for that yet. Still, to learn something new, I take night classes.
Over the the course of the time I’ve been living with Lacy, I’ve learned a little something about surfing (Night courses in surfing are scary, let me tell you!), car repair, tax preparation (most boring class ever), and cooking. My latest interest is art, so I took a course in still-life sketching.
Now understand that I didn’t tell Lacy about any of these. Not because I didn’t want her to know, but it was just something that I could do by myself, just for the fun of it. If she would have asked, I would have told. Still, because the classes fell on the nights that she usually worked, it just never came up.
It’s Thanksgiving, and what better way to commemorate that than with a list of some of the people in my life and what they’re personally thankful for? I also thought you might like to see what everyone looks like. So without further ado, in no particular order, here’s what the gang had to say to a form I asked them to fill out:
You’ve gotta love your family. Well, certain members of your family, not all of them. I mean, no law says you have to love any of them, but it’s always a good thing to love a few. Otherwise, you don’t have enough pall bearers for your funeral, but there are always ones you could sooner do without. My parents, for example, are not high on my Christmas list. It’s a long story, and if you’ve read any of the Broomfield’s Box stories not on this blog, you know that I have major issues with them.
My sister, Thea, is a different story. I love her more than anything, and I’m always thinking of little things that I can do for her. Like Girl Scout cookies. The girl has a serious jones for GSC’s. Doesn’t matter what flavor. If she had the money, Thea would pile them up beside her computer in crates and be there from Friday afternoon until Monday morning. Add some Diet Mountain Dew and you’ve got yourself a computer geek party right there. If she could comfortably sit on a bedpan, she wouldn’t have to move at all and she’d be in hog heaven.
As all of you know (actually, you may not know, but this is a clever psychological ploy to get you on my side), I have relationships with two men: Professor Quentin Broomfield and LAPD Detective Brett Merrick. To be honest, I started dating Brett to make Quentin jealous. What I didn’t anticipate was developing feelings for Brett and now I’m sort of trapped in my own plan. I don’t want to hurt Brett and I’m now able to see a future with him, but at the same time, I don’t want to lose Quentin. This has caused me considerable angst, especially since I looked it up and discovered that polygamy is illegal in all 50 states.
I know. Big shock to me, too! Imagine all of those wonderful, exciting women such as myself (I know, I know. There’s only one Lacy Cornwall!), with only one man to make her happy. Kind of a drag, right? Continue reading →