Almost Famous

William turned in place, holding up Penny’s limp body, her arms dangling and feet slightly dragging on the floor on the empty hotel suite. Completely passed out, her head rested against his shoulder; her curly hair fell into her make-up streaked face.

Nervously babbling to the passed out Penny, William professed his love to her. He continued to turn in place holding her up. He knew he wasn’t the first person to tell her this and boldly going where many men had gone before, he leaned in and planted a soft kiss on her lips. She made an almost inaudible noise but remained motionless and fell to the floor with a thud.

Two doctors rushed into the hotel suite and when they asked, William told them her name was Emily. The large pudgy man in a blue sweater and middle aged woman in a dress frantically carried “Emily” to the bathtub by her hands and feet. Penny slurred and made sluggish movements to bat them away as they attempted to force a rubber hose down her throat. “Emily you’re going to have to cooperate,” the large man kept saying. William hung back and watched with a blank expression. Penny cringed, trying to keep her mouth shut and squirm to avoid the hose, but the large doctor kept a firm grip on her until it was down.

“All done. Now we have to feed some liquid into your stomach,” the doctor said as he held her in place. Penny began puking into the tub. William slowly lowered himself onto the couch. He watched as Penny’s toes curled every time she bent back over the tub. The corners of his lips turns up ever so slightly as he looked at the woman he loved.

Leash Kid

My sister should have been a leash kid. Serina was an impossible toddler, always running away on any shopping excursion. She would either be found giggling hysterically or balling her eyes out. I was seven-years-old and a big girl, so my mom had told me to bring her back as she bolted towards the produce section. After running around in circles and chasing her through the shopping carts, I had managed to catch her and struggled to hold her hand as she tried to squirm away.

I dragged Serina to the closest aisle, where I thought my mom had gone, but she was no where to be found. I checked the next aisle, but still no luck. Several aisles later, I started to panic because I still could not find my mom. I was lost; I never realized how big the grocery store was and now I would never find my mom. I was doomed to wander around the grocery store for the rest of my life; I would have to live there and somehow keep track of my nuisance of a sister. This was all my sister’s fault. I hated her. I hated her. I hated her. I burst into tears.

The manager of the store found me clutching my sister’s hand, who was tugging in an effort to make her next escape. I nodded my head when he asked me if I was lost and somehow managed to give him a description of what my mom was wearing. All he understood from my blubbering was a “pink dress” and “gold earrings.” Just as we were about to look for my mom, she walked up. She was wearing jeans and a green sweatshirt, an outfit completely opposite of what I had just described. Luckily, she was friends with the manager or he might have been skeptical to let us go with her. I’m pretty sure he knew my sister from her constant escapes and I wish he would tell my mom to get Serina a leash, and then this could have all been avoided.

1) When I was a little kid, I would always wake up in the mornings to my mom handing me a glass of chocolate milk.

2) It usually takes at least ten minutes for a waitress to notice that I've sat down and need a menu every time I go to Sunrise Cafe.

3) Whenever it's really cold outside, the kids at the daycare I work at cry until I pick them up.

4) Every Thanksgiving, my dad manages to unintentionally delay eating the food by blessing what seems to be every member of the extended family.

1/22/09 pg 23 # 5

I call my roommate “DJ.” Her real name is Sarah but someone gave her this nickname when she successfully picked awesome songs on an ipod at a party. To complete her DJ image she has a bright pink streak in her hair, which coincidentally she got before she acquired her nickname. She reminds me of a fairy because she has fair skin and pale blonde hair. She always seems to be wearing a Converse, blue jeans, a cool t-shirt and some sort of Puma jacket.

DJ is very goofy and childish; she finds it hilarious to burst in my room to startle me because she knows it will usually result in me jumping out of my chair and screaming. Whenever she laughs at me for screaming her eyes get watery like she is about to cry and squinted, while she laughs so hard she runs out of breath. When DJ is angry and in a bad mood, she walks around like a huffy old lady with her glasses on and hair up in a short pony tail that reminds me of a grandma’s bun; she only needs an elderly looking robe to complete this image.