Thursday, December 31, 2009
Friday, December 25, 2009
Saturday, December 19, 2009
It takes place on the streets of Philadelphia. Urban stories of the people who live there. Some very poignant performances from amazing young actors, too.
This film does show a gritty side of life. It felt very real with so many performances that blended with known and unknown actors which made it a much more deeper film to understand and see how each is linked to each other.
I absolutely loved Martin Cepeda as Demetri in the film who has a bit of a slum like drunk of a Dad, but even so, he finds a girl that he wants so much to be a part of her life and when she tells him that she only likes smart guys. He decides to do something about it.
The big message in this film is the end of the movie about the march where all sorts of people hit the streets. This is where you understand what this is really about. Our human rights. We all deserve health care we can afford. Webber did the film in a way to show the many vibrant colors of where we all come from and where we are going in our daily lives. I'm glad I watched this film.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Sunday, December 6, 2009
In the tradition of the Monkies which was rather campy, you have these not so fab 4 roosting in L.A. in a hotel full of stars of the future. Thus, they encounter all sorts of wackiness. Not to be confused with that movie because drugs would be involved then and well, that would so not be Nickelodeon, now would it? If only it had more Degrassi and less Disney this might be worth the watch, even addictive.
Its cute. But will it sell records? The group actually came out with Big Time Rush the song... the same as the boy band's name. Its catchy and has a beat. This might be what the group should really work on. Their music. If this is what it takes for Kendal Schmidtz and Logan Henderson to get noticed (the latter really is the one to watch for. He should be in movies). Then by all means do so!
Saturday, December 5, 2009
In spite of Adam Lambert's fiasco with the AMA & Good Morning America well...all he wanted to do was entertain you. And the boy does know how to hit a high note. Is he the new Freddie Mercury? Not hardly. I doubt Mercury would have ever gone for some of those lyrics. Perhaps he was just old school when it came to rock and Lambert is new school. But there are some electronic beats that can really get you moving if you keep listening. And some might find it addictive. It is by all means..not a bad CD. It just might not be what you are looking for.
Now I have to wonder about the marketing team over there for American Idol. I think they did splendid with Allison Iraheta's CD Just like you. The first song you jump into is very catchy and she carries the song. Iraheta shows you, her variety of things. And she delievers. Now on the other hand, possibly tooo many songs about texting. Relationships and Texting. I don't find anything much classic about it. Scars has to be one of my favorite tracks on the CD. She has such an earthy voice.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
OK, this has to be the worst season of Gossip Girl. Its just gone nowhere even with a threesome and Blair and Chuck in their own Camelotville. It just sucks. So thinking of sucking and how amazing Vampire Diaries has been, I thought...hey, how about gossip girl with a twist. Sort of like what they are doing with Jane Austen and zombies and sea monsters, as of late. So I have killed my 'gossip guys' blog. I know, bummer. But for slash fan fic and all that were looking into it..well, it might have been over the top or would have been and really I can only have just so many Dan & Nate scenes. While Chance was really getting viral there as a serial something another with his split personalities where one was gay and one was straight. It was the gay one, who was his sweet side. Well..I decided to go a different way.
And like you are thinking..not another vampire story..please! You better make it good, Ivy! Well, I'll try. Just see where it takes me..and who knows..there might end up being some gayness along the way too. I'll never tell until I get to that tale.
So here is Gossip Girl gone Vamps.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Friday, November 20, 2009
Well, you know Bella, and many of you do. Who were hungry for yet another part of the saga. A movie just to show you how much she loves Edward. And you got it.
But, on all accounts I must admit...my favorite parts were Jacob's aka Taylor Lautner. And yes, he has so many good things to look at on the screen. But really, he's fresh, and just the guy you'd hope to meet anywhere in America. And he's very well capable of acting so naturally. Throw in some very high tech special effects, and hey, you can fall in love with a werewolf. To bad, Bella didn't.
Honestly, I find the whole storyline just a tad ridiculous (and I know that's the book) of running all the way to Rome to save Edward. I would have liked to have really known what that Edward was doing meanwhile..while Bella was all depressed.. Just being his sad self, I suppose. And Of course, getting to say "don't" quite a lot to Bella in all her recklessness. So pasty too, and a little hard to watch. What's up with that lippy of his? There is was..and then not, and back again. Some how even Jasper comes off looking beautiful no matter what.
The soundtrack looks promising. I just might have to get it. I liked several of the tunes. Well, some of them.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
The major story of the evening was the fallout after the Dan/Olivia/Vanessa threesome. Olivia started to become jealous of Vanessa and Dan’s relationship which basically amounts to a mutual fondness for frowning, caffeine, and Morrissey. It was quite amusing seeing Dan Humphrey strolling down the street like he was a love machine (“Just me, Olivia, Vanessa. Two girls, four boobs, and one Dan Humphrey. How awesome am I?”). Also, the flashbacks to the threesome were waaaay more hot than anything in last week’s much-hyped episode. I wonder if the Parents Television Council tuned in last night.We also learned a much repeated rule of theesomes: The third person is always supposed to be a stranger! Gossip Girl not only entertains, it teaches.
And some one gets paid to write this..I couldn't help myself but find this so stupid to read this morning on EW. And people think last night's show was the best ever. Hmmmm...Its the first one I've watched this season after hearing about the threesome hype that was so lame.
Honestly, the show can't even make guest stars look worth watching. Maybe its the hair products they use. I dunno what was up with Hillary's hair or the one who plays Vanessa, but it was odd. And I wasn't into Serena's little French pony-tail, either.
I suppose this Americanizing the threesome or trying to be what pops up on so many shows across the pond like on Hollyoaks. Still we can make these storylines awkward and quite lame. Perhaps its all the materialism involved. Its hard to find the heart of characters on Gossip Girl.
Last season I'd watch just to watch Ed over act. It was hilarious. He was so fun to watch. I have to admit the one thing they have going on the show is Nate and Dan's friendship. But really this show it quite the same old same old. I'm not sure I'm up to write fan fic about it anymore.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Sheri Jones said someone was murdered there. At the time I was only seven with big pale baby eyes to absorb the story. Only she didn't know what happened.
"What do you think happened there?" I yearned for another story on those backseat bus rides home.
"We'd have to go there to find out." Sheri swore she knew how to call up spirits from the bathroom mirror. I never was able to call up Bloody Mary nor the Candyman. I'd screech their names a hundred and twenty or so times. Nothing ever happened. Just me in the dark staring into the mirror, wishing I knew who was out there in the spirit world.
Why couldn't it be any easier this time? It took me ten years to get up the nerve to go into the Hathaway house.
"Cause we're not in your bathroom, Page!"
I looked over at Randy Travis. Not the singer, just a whimpy guy I knew in high school.
I made a face, snuggling the flashlight to my chest. The shadow was a Halloween delight. Randy gasped and jumped back almost falling through the wall. A mouse streaked by.
"Nothings happened. Nothing will ever happen." I gave up.
"You look scary even in daylight, Page." Like my attire had anything to do with Bloody Mary. I rolled my eyes. That's all he could find to say about me.
"Thanks, Randy." I smiled. It wasn't a cheap gothic look. Of course, most of my clothes were from salvation army. But to find the strange dark lipsticks and the pale makeup was a mail-order expense. Then there was the fake nose piercing that really freaked Dad out. I still haven't shown him my bellybutton ring yet. Randy doesn't even know about that. Not that my plan was to expose anything tonight except something in the bathroom mirror.
When, just when was I going to meet the people I wanted to meet in my life? Living in an old railroad town, certainly was no Greenwich Village.
"So do you sleep in that stuff or what?"
"This is no time to ask what I do in my sleep. I don't sleep at all, Randy, okay." I was a caffeine addict who thrived on bewitching hours.
"Sorry, I just wished we'd hung out at the cementary, maybe."
"Pushing gravestones over is so disrespective. You have to respect the dead, Randy!" God, I thought I'd gone over this with him before. Does he ever listen to me, really?
"Did I say anything about gravestones. I just want to get out of here." His dark chin length hair hid his eyes which made it all the more harder to have any sympathy for him. In spite of the dark, I wished he had something dangerous in mind. But not Randy. He moped around never deciding who he wanted to be. He just knew who he didn't want to be, a nobody.
"I'll try again." I looked back at the cracked mirror. I started out with some lucious Latin words. To bad I didn't know what they meant. I forgot my book of spells. Maybe I just wasn't dedicated to this sort of stuff. Maybe it was my grandmother still haunting me. She always said if my spirit remained empty like some vessel, and if I didn't fill it up with Bible scriptures, anything could happen. Even bad things could happen in the bathroom mirror. But it was only me, Randy and the flashlight. Kind of depressing.
I remembered those foolish games Sheri and I used to recite. Maybe something would have happened if she were here, but she ran away with a truckdriver.
So I started chanting the words I learned from her. Over and over I began to call up Bloody Mary.
And then like an ember, a face sparkled in the mirror. Struggling to see who was there, no more brighter than a candle was someone looking at me.
My eyes widen. I wanted a closer look. Something was in the bathroom mirror!
I swallowed my fear. Maybe Randy didn't see a thing but he tightened his grip around my shoulders.
"Who in the hell is Bloody Mary?" Someone whispered.
"Did you hear something?" I turned to Randy and a beam of light hit our faces. A force greater than any wind and a heat so fierce came rushing toward us.
"Make it stop...make it stop!" cried Randy. The force surged past me, hitting him, jolting him to the floor.
"Randy?" I flashed the light to the floor where I thought he fell. He wasn't there. Something smelled rancid in the air, like old trash, fermenting too long in the sun.
"Oh, God." Where was he? He wasn't on the floor. I checked the wall. I heard something move in the darkness. Hunting with the flashlight, I saw a rat running down the hallway. Was Randy a rat now? How could I do something like that? He let me paint his fingernails with silver nail polish. He was my only friend in high school. Thanks to me, he was a rat now. What was I going to do, take the rat home and keep it? Mom would just die. People would start asking about Randy. Nobody ever disappeared in Rockford.
My life was....SHIT.
My eyes cringed. The pit of my stomach felt woozy. I was an awful person. I never even kissed Randy. The thought of kissing a rat made me a little jumpy. I sprinted down the dark hallway.
"Randy, where are you?" Could he remember his name if he were a rat? Did he know who I was even if he was an animal?
There was an old naked iron framed bed. Sheets covered the windows. From time to time a car light from the highway would shine through the windows. I noticed the bright light and wondered if it was a spirit, a ghost or what.
"Randy, are you under there?" I thought I heard a whimper. Flashing the light under the bed, there the rat hid. "Come on, don't be afraid. I'll read my book of spells better, next time. I'll do whatever it takes. I'll change you back. I'll stay with you. I promise." It sounded lame, talking to a rat.
Another car light went by. I noticed a shadow by the window.
"Randy?" I stood up and shined the flashlight toward the bedroom window.
There was a chill in the air. I thought I saw a shadow. My pulse raced. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. I wasn't alone. Or either, Randy was a rat. I couldn't just stand there in the dark and be swallowed by the chill sliding across the room. I ran. I leaped down the flight of stairs, stepping on a rat's tail.
"Randy!" The thought of him being a rat made me cry. "Randy! OH GOD, WHAT HAVE I DONE." I reached for the front door. Only it was stuck.
I heard footsteps behind me on the stairway. Maybe it was just my heart beat drumming in my ear. I grasped the door, kept turning the knob hard, but it would barely move.
I pulled the rusty knob, using all my strength. And then the wind rushed, pushing the door open. Leaves clung to my face. Into the fall night, I ran never wanting to look back at the Hathaway House.
I can't say I slept that night. I didn't. Randy was on my mind. Every toss and turn made me wonder where was he. Was he still at the Hathaway house? Was he a rat?
Monday morning came too early, I pulled myself together, thinking it would be the worst day of my life. Randy would be missing, and I was the worst person on earth. I didn't even take home the rat.
It was true I was a witch. Who else could conjure something like that up in a mirror? I didn't even remember what words I used. Maybe it was pig-latin?
My pasty skin flushed when I turned the corrider and saw Randy standing by the principal's office. Sure, it was a relief to see him human and alive, but I didn't know what to say. Maybe he didn't want me to say anything. Maybe I should act like nothing ever happened that night, and maybe it didn't. Maybe I dreamed the whole thing up. I could handle this. It was nothing.
I smiled. But when he looked at me, there was something dead in his dark eyes. He was mad, mad that I left him there. I bet. I couldn't expect him to be happy to see me. Before I knew what was coming, he slammed me into the lockers. A cold metal pain in the back of my head hung on to every word he said.
"Happy to see me?" Randy growled. Now I felt like a little mouse trapped, no one helped. Faces stared at me like this was all way too intense. It wasn't there business, just ours.
"Sorry, I- I..." My eyes searched him wondering if he was the boy I grew up with. "I'm sorry about everything."
His breath was hot, and I felt a little sweaty when he dropped me too the ground, and pressed his palms against my shoulders.
"I could take care of you real easy..real easy." He smiled. "Watch it." His brow lifted. He aimed a finger like a gun and pressed it against my forehead, "Pow." He whispered. "Friends forever."
He knew I was weak. His smile was quick as he backed away. He watched me for sometime. Staring, I wondered just who in the hell was he.
Stupid, the only song on my mind was that one where the guy keeps singing, "How's it going to be when you don't know me." I should have done my homework, gone to my grandmother's, hid at home. Something. But no. There I was at lunch. No place to go. Not a dime in my pocket and a grumbling stomach. A free soda would have been nice. But would I have really enjoyed it? Would I ever enjoy anything, anymore? And I thought my life sucked before. I wasn't making friends. I was making enemies.
There was no pleasure even in black lipstick. I didn't care anymore. See what a difference a day makes?
It was there on the steps of Rockford High I saw the old red sports car roll in. I couldn't say I knew the make, but it was pretty much a low riding busted car, except for the crimson paint job. Joy riders on a noon rush and Randy was with them.
My eyes widen. What kind of guy was he? He was supposed to be with me, not with scum of the earth.
The trio was plastered. Were they here to prove their reputation?
Maybe I am strange, but I wasn't an idiot. I never thought of Randy as one of the daredevils of Rockford High, known for trainspotting and other stupid human tricks which usually meant motion of some kind. I'd seen them down at the K-Mart parking lot jumping on the hood while the car peeled circles.
"What are you doing with them?" Okay, I like stupid questions.
"What do you care?" His breath was heavy with alcohol and his head dropped toward mine. Damn, he enjoyed making me squirm with his threatening stare. "But then you've been waiting for me."
"No I haven't." I took the defensive. Uptight and slightly phobic to crowds, he was too close for my comfort zone.
"Just get in the car." That was Randy's smile, but he didn't act a thing like Randy.
I shook my head, no.
"Come on, what are you afraid of? You weren't afraid last night." He took my hand, played with my fingers. I froze looking into his dizzy eyes. He wasn't Randy anymore.
"What did you do with him?"
"What do you mean? What did I do? It was you." His index finger pressed into my chest. "So get over it? Are you coming or not?" His words were cold. I felt a twinge of fear, yet it had a power of it's own just like he did. I went.
The old car was blaring with sweet notes from the stereo, "Put your arms around me, Baby... put your arms around me, Baby....All I want to do is fly." And we were flying down the interstate. I was sitting in the front seat in his lap. I can't say I was sitting in Randy's lap because if he was Randy we wouldn't be on this road trip. We'd be on some back street maybe sharing a soda and stupid stories about somebody on TV. Not this. Not the wind in my face, not the music soaring as fast as the car. We wouldn't be this way. Never. I never made a wish in the bathroom mirror. If I had, it wouldn't be this.
His hand hung on to my shoulder making me stiff. It was difficult to stay comfortable in his lap.
He sat there with a cigarette between his lips. I was too jittery to be cool, but he passed the cigarette and I took a slow drag. Actually, I was having a bit of a nicotine fit. Not that I'm addicted or anything, but I needed something to sooth the edge, glued to him.
What if I wet my pants or something? What would this rowdy bunch think? Maybe they'd just leave me at a roadside park, but we took a turn down a dirt road toward the river.
I didn't ask where we were going. I wanted this to be over. But then would it ever be over.
When I looked into his eyes, I searched for Randy. If I knew how to get him back, I would. But I don't think dragging him back to some mirror in an old house and saying a few words was going get back my Randy.
The car halted at the river's edge. Everyone got out. At least I could get to my feet. Most everyone but him stumbled. His grip tightened.
"What are we doing here?" I watched the wide stream babble. The current was probably stronger than it looked. The Platt was deceiving, sometimes. There was always at least one drowning a year around here. Had it met it's quota yet? I sighed.
"She wants to know what we're doing here?" Randy laughed.
Everyone laughed but I didn't get the joke.
"Randy, wouldn't you rather just have a beer and forget about it." The boy asked who drove us there. He pulled a reefer from his pocket and lit it. "You need to chill, man."
"Then don't watch." Randy's cold words hung in my mind.
"You're not going to hurt her, are you?" A girl asked. I remembered her from Living Class. We never talked. She was always tired but usually liked anyone's cooking.
I looked at the driver, then the girl with the stringy hair and her companion who looked as dim as she did.
Was I an idiot or what? Did they care what he had in mind?
My sweaty hand slid from his grip, and I took off running fast as I could get from the river. To bad I never tried out for track. God, I stink. Too many cigarettes. I felt dizzy. Before I knew it, I hit the ground, and he was right on me.
My palms cut into the gravel, but I managed to pull myself up and kept going even if he pulled at my shirt tail. I dropped out of the shirt and ran toward the highway.
Things I now knew to give up, clunky shoes, stupid retroware and cigarettes. But then would I see tomorrow with his plans? He grabbed me. We tumbled, but I fought to get up before he could. Only I wasn't going anywhere, but with him, down the rocky embankment toward the river.
He hit the water first. My chance to get away. But like quicksand, he pulled me under with him. His hands clung to my wet neck and he squeezed, pushing me harder under the merky water. Bubbles spewed from my mouth.
I couldn't make out a word he said. But I fought back.
We were swallowed in the current. He clung on to me. I did the same. Inspite of everything, I knew this guy liked me. You can't just give up on somebody when their personality changes.
We washed up on the sandbar. Too exhausted to even talk. Damn, if he didn't get to ride in the ambulance with me.
I don't know if I'll ever know who Randy is. Some lady at the library's been trying to help me find some old newspapers about the Hathaway murder. I haven't found much. Newspapers just don't spell out stuff like they do these days on the news.
Anyway, he hasn't asked me to visit him at the treatment center. And I haven't been trying to call up Bloody Mary in bathroom mirror.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Saturday, October 24, 2009
I'm sure he is the Darren the author had in mind for Circ Du Freak. He's got that all American boy good looks. He's sweet. He's nice just a tad mischievous. All things he needs to be as the Vampire's assistant. Really, he makes Darren quite adorable. And he had to handle spiders too.
Circ Du Freak did deliver on the freakish nature of so many things in the world. It pops with such a fine cast.
Of course, this was a movie that dealt with the real world and a secret world. If you've read the books you'll know the first installment is possibly the weakest of the series. There are plans to make a total of 4 movies from the 12 books in the series. Hopefully, Chris will be there for the whole ordeal of it.
Hard to say if this flick will have the magnitude of followers like Harry Potter. Doubtful. But really the story did play out nicely. Perhaps it has to do that the story centers around 2 boys who were best friends and now they have to fight each other because they are now on different sides.
John C. Reilly was excellent as Larten Crepsley. He was to the point showing Darren the way to being not just a vamp, but his assistant too. The movie has some interesting takes and twist. Especially, about being a vampire. I think its for a wide ranged audience. You don't always find a movie like that.
Chris will be in a new thriller, The Hole. I have a feeling he'll be the one to watch very soon.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Friday, October 16, 2009
Friday, October 2, 2009
What's a guy to do when there is no World of Warcraft to play? Jesse Eisenberg's character "Columbus" is the typical college student. Maybe? We see the end of the world as we know it through his eyes. As it is he meets up with Woody Harrleson "Tallahasee". The characters go by the names of the towns of where they are from. We also get to learn the rules of engagement when it comes to zombies. I thought Eisneberg was perfect for this part. Harrleson rounded out the duo so devilishly.
You might be a bit squeamish at first as the movie hurls at you with zombies. But you'll get use to it. This is a funny horror film. Some feme fatal performances from Emma Stone and Abagail Breslin. Even Amber Heard makes a lovely zombie.
I think the zombie lover will get their fill with this movie. Don't worry, its not an Americanized version of Shaun of the Dead. But its got its fun and of course, gore.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
OK, so you might never want to watch another Diablo Cody film again due to the campy dialogue and Megan Fox, Jennifer's Body. But you can at least be happy that she graced us with Colin Gray played by Kyle Gallner. To bad he had to be the third victim. But what if he wasn't. What if he was there for Needy, after all. Just by chance, Jennifer didn't ask him to meet her that night because Needy told her to forget about him. Someone else was her victim, but he went anyway to witness the whole thing and somehow came out unscathed. Almost. Maybe he and Needy share a common bond now.
Check it out!
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Leave it to Ang Lee to celebrate the 40th anniversary of Woodstock with Taking Woodstock which is the bio pic movie of Elliott Teichberg in 1969 who decided to get Woodstock in his own back yard in order to help save his Mom & Dad's motel business.. so to speak since the other place in upstate New York was a deal breaker.
Demetri Martin is a bit between Michael Cera and Robert Schwartzman which makes him adorable all the way through the film. To bad it couldn't have been fiction, though. I would have loved for his character to have hooked up with Nam wounded Emile Hirche's character. It would have been electric. Oh, Elliot hooks up with someone, even falls into a threesome with Paul Dano and Kelli Garner on an acid trip.
This was a thrill to watch. I enjoyed seeing how the concert came about. Jonathan Groff is Michael Lang with that amazing hair riding in ..not only on a motor cycle but a stallian or two as well, and Lang put the cash up front. Thus got the ball rolling for Woodstock. Yet again, if it had been fiction it would have been great fun to see Groff & Martin's characters hook up. I know..I'm just silly, but it still would have been fun.
Really, its a quirky film. A sweet little trip back to where it all started. With wonderful performances by Hirche, Groff, Martin and don't forget Liev Schreiber as crossdressing Vilma. Its such a cool movie.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Alex Sanchez is ground breaking in young adult fiction with his trilogy of the rainbow boys. Kyle, Nelson and Jason.
My favorite in the series was Nelson who was always changing up his hair and fearless too. His mother supported him so much. While Kyle is from a nuclear background with a Mom and Dad who were trying to understand his coming out in high school. And of course, Kyle was the luckiest guy in the world to find jock Jason who came from a background where homosexuality was not tolerated and had a girlfriend. It was great that he could find these types to write about and bring to life in the series. Too bad it couldn't be a TV series.
Naturally, I could read about these 3 characters again and again.
Really, Mr. Sanchez has put himself out there to make way in young adult fiction with real characters of teens who are coming out and of course showing strength and responsibility in their choices in life. He definitely is moving, in his writing and you can easily fall in love with his characters.
I highly recommend the trilogy.
an excerpt from Rainbow Boys
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Why hadn't he seen him before? He didn't dare ask. More snickers from his league that patroled for new blood. And they would have asked, "Well, what of you and Andrew? Isn't that set in stone?"
Heath had to keep his wits about him at the party. He'd smoked far too many cigarettes as it was, and Andrew would have told him his nerves were shot. Maybe they were, but he was away and Heath wasn't under his thumb at the moment. And, and there he was. Like a scared little lamb.
Heath was sure of it. Brand new. The freshest of the Freshman. Not doubt. Heath couldn't help but stare. A part of him felt as a vampire with a victim within his reach. He could imagine his lips on his. It was waiting to happen. But then he scared the poor fool to death.
"You are 18, aren't you?" Heath saw him nod. "And your major?" Didn't it always happen this way at a party? Someone asked you about your major. Lameo crap.
"Undeclared." Awesome thought Heath. He must have meant to have said that. And the blondie had set there staring at Heath's card with his name and number. He didn't shred it into bits and throw it back in his face. It was settled. Maybe he'd get a call back. Just maybe.
Heath wondered around in the dark of the party after that. Catching glimpses of him from time to time, but not another encounter. He didn't want to look as if he were...possibly desperate.
It was very late when he got to the all night diner which was more of a hen's fest than anything. He met up with Wyona who was acting rather aloof. She was dating no one at the moment.
All her online lovers were on vacation, perhaps.
"You mean you didn't get lucky?" She finally smiled at him with her rich red lipstick still in place. She looked like a golden age Hollywood starlet. All she needed was a cigarette, and Heath could give her one if she wanted.
"Do I ever?"
"You have Andrew." She looked at him disappointed.
"Andrew. Andrew. Andrew." Heath fumed. "Everyone acts like he's a god of some kind."
"He's head of the drama department, how lucky can you be?" She brushed her silky black chin length hair behind her ear.
"Its not perfect." Heath was a bit pouty.
"But you're such a good wife." She grinned.
"Stop it." Heath winced. He didn't like that word.
He was going home to an empty house which he was so happy about. He wanted to be gone before Andrew got back. If he had the will, he would. He should, but he knew he wouldn't. It was as if it wouldn't be a home without the fighting.
Heath woke up to the smell smoke. His t-shirt was almost on fire.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!" He jumped up from the bed and flung the t-shirt over his head and on the floor. It was on fire. "Fuck! Fuck!" He screamed then, stomping it out. He was still in his thick black boots.
He saw himself in the bathroom mirror then across the way. Even if he were still in Andrew's bedroom. His black hair was standing straight up. It looked so pathetic and beyond Elvis. Evidently. He remembered the beautiful boy's blond hair. It was real, and he was the kind of real that had no idea he was even beautiful at all. If only he'd call.
He wasn't. Heath knew. He got in the shower and decided to dye his hair. He knew a thing or two about going from black to blond. Of course, four hours later he was wondering what went wrong. He called Wyona finally.
"You should have called me when you first wanted to do this." She looked at him disappointed.
"You're right, but you would have talked me out of it." Heath reminded her.
"So true." She nodded, combing his green mess with her fingers. "I shall fix it."
"Don't take too long, I'm expecting a call." He lit a cigarette then. It was breakfast.
"Heath, you are just asking for trouble," she told him.
"I live for trouble." He smirked.
"Sure you do." Wyona smirked back.
"Just fix it. I have this weekend coming up, and I want to be ready for something spectacular." Heath closed his eyes then, imagining him as someone else with that beautiful boy. Somewhere far from here. Far from Andrew.
Of course, it took the rest of the day to get his hair platnum.
By Thursday Heath was back to his old self. Blond though. The house was in tip top shape. He could have shown it and had buyers for it. God, he hated housework. He worked out too. Trying to focus on the positive instead of the negative. He had to remember he was in his last year at the University. He had the future to look forward too. It was all coming to an end. This thing with Andrew. There was a time he felt as if Andrew and everything he ever wanted was here and now it was fading. It was time someone else took over as Andrew's boy, and it would not be that beautiful boy that Heath was dreaming about.
Of course, at the party, this Nick(the beautiful boy) was doing his best to be so not part of the program. But Heath wasn't giving up hope. There was something about him that just made Heath think he might call. He might. Heath was praying that he would.
And then just before dawn on Saturday morning. It happened. Nick called.
"What changed your mind?" Heath wished he hadn't wanted to know. "Sorry. Its just a surprise. You know, to hear from you."
"Yeah, I guess I thought maybe-"
"Maybe I'll see you at Starbucks as soon as it opens." Heath smiled.
"What? Is that too gay for you?" Heath winced.
"Starbucks is fine."
Well, it wasn't perfect. Nick wasn't quite like he remembered. His nose was wickedly bruised. Of course, it pained Heath to see him that way because after all, he knew exactly the exruciating pain he was in. He'd been there a time or two himself. Well, a lot. He just didn't like seeing himself in Nick.
Still there was more to take in even if Nick was sitting there like a bump on a log. Obviously, he was on something. Under the influence of something. So they sat there looking at each other as if nothing would happen. What a waste of time.
But then Heath found himself spilling over how he wanted him to call. How he couldn't wait to see him again. Only Nick looked like shit. What was he suppose to do with that? And Nick's story was so lame. In the bathroom with his roommate's girlfriend. At the party. Really? What was that about? Really, could he trust him?
Yet Nick was ready for something. Something. It was as if he wanted to know what it was all about on a Saturday morning. Usually, things like this were after dark. Possibly the wee hours of morning when one was so drunk they could hardly stand up and everything was so undone. But here Nick was wired on caffiene, looking so not himself, going back to Heath's place.
"What do you want to do?" Nick acted as if he were hungry. Possibly. Yet they were bumping into each other. Really, Heath hadn't planned on so much daylight. They would just find each other in the dark. It would be something mysterious and amazing. But there Nick was looking at what was on the walls of the livingroom. A game of 20 questions.
Lie.Lie.Lie. That's all Heath could do.
"Of course, its my place." Heath told him. After all, he had to be somebody. Not just anybody. He poured him something with vodka, but Nick didn't want it. It was as if he wanted to be apparentely awake for everything.
"Well, then." Heath stared at his honey brown eyes, for some time. Trying to get past the bruised nose. He touched Nick's chin who immediately resisted.
"What are you doing here?" Heath looked at him frustrated.
"I dunno." Nick shook his head. Nick looked so sad. He suddenly lunged in to a kiss as if to get it over and done. Heath fell back. He thought his upper lip might be bleeding.
"Not so fast." Heath stared at his eyes. So sincere yet uncertain. Heath kissed him slowly then. His tongue touched his so delicately. They stayed that way for a moment. It was something to savor. Heath thought he might get teary eyed.
Heath pulled back finally and knew then that he was Nick's first guy kiss. He couldn't help but smile.
Heath put on the Best of David Bowie then. They could improvise. Put on a show. Sing to their hearts content as if they could be rock stars. Then it was time to jump on the bed. Such fun. In the air. Stupid shit that just made you laugh out loud. Things that Andrew never let him do. Honestly, Heath just wanted to forget the seriousness of it.
Finally, Heath's head rested next Nick's on fluffy pillows on the bed. Just some time to catch their breath. And in the stillness he heard his heart beat, and he'd never been quite so happy as he saw Nick smile. He laid there almost in a sweat. The lights on. But it was clouding up. Possibly a thunderstorm on the way. Something turbulant flowed through his veins, as well. As if this was the chance to take. Heath turned off the lights.
"Why did you do that?" Nick said a bit breathy.
"I like it dark." Simple as that. Wasn't it?
"But I wanted to see you." Nick told him.
"Its not that dark." Heath removed his shirt then as if Nick had asked him too and the rest of his clothes. Nick just watched.
Heath slid under the cold covers quickly as if Nick would have to find him. He waited. Finally, Nick got up the nerve to do it. Heath wanted to ask him what he was thinking about, but suddenly Nick shucked everything as if he were going skinny dipping and dived under the covers.
Heath wasn't sure he wanted to be the one who had to show him. Everything. And then Nick touched his abs as if he needed to know he was there, and Nick kissed him as Heath had shown him. Heath was certain he'd burst with happiness. Nick's hot flesh on his. It was so inviting. Nick's touch. A yearning to know it would be the best.
"You know what to do, don't you?" Nick simply asked.
Heath bit his bottom lip.
"Sure, I know." He just wanted Nick all over him. Couldn't it wait. It could wait. "But we don't have too."
"Isn't it what you asked me over for?" Nick let go for a moment.
"Yes," he barely said above his breath. Heath kissed him back hard as if maybe it would tell Nick to go away. Did he want him to be a monster? He knew what a monster was suppose to do. He lived with one. "You won't like it." Heath slightly scowled.
"But I like this." Nick told him.
"Me too." He'd never been with someone who just wanted to touch him so. He kept kissing Nick as if to forget what he'd ask of him. He hated to tell him it was worse than everclear for the first time. It might make him sick. It might ruin him for life. And as much as it hurt, he didn't want Nick to become him.
Friday, August 21, 2009
By Liz Cross
A friend of mine sent me this story a long time ago, but I kept it. I don’t think she’d mind if I shared it with you.
What was he trying to do? We’d laughed all the way to Family Dollar Store and now he was trying on hats— bucket hats.
“That’s what they call these?” His was tan. Mine was blue. The tag hung in my face. I couldn’t see my eyes, but Zed looked quite naughty with the ends turned up like a rap star.
“Let’s pose,” he said looking into the hat mirror. The hat covered his short sun-licked hair, but his freckles shown on his lean nose.
I crossed my arms and he leaned his back against me. We giggled.
“You’re just so not a Jonas brother.” I laughed a hearty laugh. I felt alive, not numb anymore.
His smile was genuine and it made me laugh, again. His smile always did.
“God, these are so cheap!” I noticed the price, hardly three bucks.
“Why do you think we came here, Lisa?” He made me think I was a doofus. “We don’t have our parents to spend money on us.”
I frowned. Why did he have to bring that up?
As it was, I doubted there was even an APB out on us. We’d been here for weeks. We could spend the whole summer stranded in the heartland.
No one lived in my Great Aunt Nola’s farm house. So it was like a vacation, the two of us. It wasn’t really running away. We really weren’t running away from anything. But I didn’t know what to say. I put the hat back and went to look at shirts.
Naturally, I went straight to the WHAT WOULD JESUS DO stuff.
“Not another one, please,” he begged. “How much of this stuff do you own?”
“I don’t have that much.” I didn’t think about my collection, but the rainbow bracelets made me happy. I felt better when I had one even if I didn’t wear them anymore. It gave Mom the creeps when she saw me with one. Like she did something wrong, or maybe there was just something silly about me. We weren’t religious at home.
“What about that WWJD T-shirt you sleep in, huh?” He gave me the look. The look as in when are you going to give it up? You can’t be a virgin forever. “It’s a real turn-off.”
“It is?” I stared at him wondering if he really meant it. I picked up a tie-dye shirt with the logo on it and held it for a moment thinking everything might be beautiful with the world in baby blue and neon yellow.
“I’m sorry.” He sighed. “You don’t really need that, you know.”
I shook my head. I knew. He was working hard for the corn detassling money, up before dawn, and dead tired in a dusty tan when he came home. The company hadn’t even paid him. We barely had enough to go out on from my pay at the truckstop. I put it back.
“But we can get the hats. The hats will come in handy.”
“Oh yeah, you think so?” I edged a smile.
“Yeah, bucket hats are so cool.” He took them to the counter and paid for them.
I waited outside staring at the pay phone.
“Why don’t you call?” He found me tempting to grab the phone. “You know you want too.”
“Not yet.” The feeling had to be right. It just wasn’t yet. What was I going to say? My head was empty. Besides, I’d come all this way to meet someone I’d never known, and I couldn’t do that either.
We walked across the parking lot and waited at the busy intersection. Strangely, there was no fear crossing the highway with Zed. I felt safe even if trucks zoomed by. I never felt like that at home.
“Your father’s Jewish, isn’t he?” We walked a ways down the dirt road into the shade of the cottonwoods before he said anything.
“That’s why you have this fascination with Jesus, isn’t it?” He grinned. His teeth were so perfect. Sometimes that perfection bothered me, like he had everything figured out. He was the one going to college not me. Not me. No, I was the girl who dropped out my last semester. He still hadn’t asked me why I did that.
“What does Jesus being Jewish have to do with anything?”
“I don’t know, you tell me?” He leaned in closer and I stepped back not wanting him near.
“I just want to understand it, that’s all. What’s with you? You don’t even go to church.”
“So you don’t have to go to church, you know.”
“Well, maybe, if you’re in some third- world country, but they even have places to go to worship. They might be a bit run down, no running water or anything, but at least they have a place to go.”
“So what are you saying, I need to go somewhere to be close to God?”
“I don’t want to talk about this. It makes you cranky.” He shrugged.
“Well, you brought it up.”
“You’re the one who’s the Jesus freak, not me.”
“I don’t know why this upsets you.”
“It doesn’t, not really. It’s just are you or aren’t you?” He walked ahead. I watched his footsteps in the soft dirt.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I ran to catch up.
“What does it mean when you wear your WWJD T-shirt to sleep in?”
“It doesn’t mean anything. I just like it, that’s all.”
“No, no there’s got to be something. There’s just got to be. You just want to make me feel guilty, don’t you?” His face soured, but he messed with the bucket hat, and was silly once more, dancing in a jerky hop.
“Zed, it’s just a shirt, okay.” I crossed my arms and watched. He was so harmless, really. But this stunk. And he thought I was moody.
“Forget it, okay. I just asked. You know, maybe it means nothing to you. Just forget it.” He did a strut, wiggled his shoulders. God, I hoped he wasn’t planing a drama major in college. He might do okay as a comedian. He might. It just sank into me that I was going to have to let him go. I had too. He had places to go. Places to go without me.
We were finishing the last of the mushroom soup. The house was practically scraped. It might have been nice if we could have made the place comfortable. As it was, it barely gave us shelter from the rain and the heat. We wouldn’t be here much longer. It would be the end of July soon and corn detassling would be over.
“I was thinking about what you said,” I attempted to give him my lame theory. It would sound totally bogus, but it was something I wanted to believe even if he couldn’t understand. “I used to think my dad looked like that guy in Serpico.”
“You mean Al Pacino?”
“Yeah, my mom used to have this poster of him. I loved that poster. For some reason I just thought if Jesus was around he’d be a real cool Serpico.”
“Did you ever watch the movie?” He sighed.
“You should have, it’d blown your whole theory. Serpico is definitely not Jesus.”
“Oh,” I swallowed my soup and watched the drop that slipped back into the soup.
“You wish Jesus was your dad?”
“God, that sounds so sacrilegious. I don’t know what I want.”
“You could go back to school.”
“What does that have to do with Jesus?”
“It’s not your fault your step-dad can’t keep a job. But you don’t want to know your real father, either, do you?”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to know me.” I felt cold suddenly and felt bad about dragging Zed on this cross- country trip. Here I was thinking something was going to change. When really nothing had changed. Zed was going to the University of Texas in the fall.
“Well, you won’t know if you don’t call, if you don’t show up.” He took the bowls away and rinsed them out to let them dry.
I just felt numb. It didn’t have to be this way. But it did. Some things, I couldn’t change. But how was I going to act when I got home? Would they ever trust me again?
He brushed my hair. Each stroke was with care. Not too hard but strong enough to straighten the frizzy ends of my heavy hair.
“You really think you could live like this everyday?” I stared into the shadows and imagined a life once here. Now there was just gray fraying wood and chipped floors.
“Sure I could.”
I knew he couldn’t.
“I can’t believe you actually went in those corn fields just to detassle,” I said. “I couldn’t even last a day. You’re going to have so much to look forward too, you know, when you go to college.”
“Come with me.”
I shook my head, no.
He began to braid my hair.
“I can’t, not just yet.” I shivered wondering what was I really afraid of.
I must have thought I was brave, but I wasn’t. Just chicken shit, really. I bet I would have turned around at the bus station if Zed hadn’t met me. His crazy ideas for the summer. We should have gone to the beach, but I had it in my head I was going to be a detective or something. I found his phone number and his address on the Internet. This was the summer I was going to meet my father. But I knew I couldn’t do it in the end. It would be wrong. He was supposed to be looking for me. Not the other way around. Not like this.
But even now I could barely sense where I came from or even what I wanted. I was only going on for Zed. If. If I were here. Alone. Maybe I’d just try to plant some roots right here in this old house, or maybe I’d die here on a blade of glass and fade into midnight. Even the stars were too bright in the dark.
The bedroll resettled. Zed’s breath changed. He was awake, barefooted and frail in his cotton briefs.
“I thought-” He yawned. “I thought you might be gone.”
He hugged me from behind as I stared up to the stars in the broken roof.
“Not yet, but maybe I will, you know, soon.”
He breathed in my ear.
“What would Jesus do, huh?” He kissed me.
“What would Jesus do in a bucket hat?” I sighed, wanting to sleep with his arms around me.
“Jesus is not a taker, you know. He frowns pretty much on prejudice. You get the picture.” I shook my head. “So that leaves just one thing.”
“One thing?” I nodded. He kissed my chin then. He was definitely making it hard to think.
“Have you given anybody, anything lately?” His warm mouth nuzzled near my ear again.
I turned to him.
“You’re too much, you know that.” I gave him a playful shove. Was there only one thing on his mind? I don’t think it had anything to do with Jesus.
“No, no, that’s not what I’m talking about.” His fingers intertwined with mine. His skin was blue and he looked splendid in the moonlight. “I’m saying, the more you give the better you’re going to feel. It’s got nothing to do with me.”
He held me close again. I couldn’t say a word. It was like that when he was right.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Thursday, July 16, 2009
This is a novel set in mid-west Iowa where you don't think gay people would exist. Well, of course, they exist everywhere. You have some what of a sexy boy, Dade who reminded me a lot of the Lou Taylor Pucci type. Unfortunately, he isn't in the best of time, letting the school jock do him who has a nasty but haute girlfriend. Of course, we get the jest of the one side romance. Dade is the victim here. Its his last year at home before college, and Dade really wants to find someone to love him for who he really is. And he does. Meet drug dealing Alex Kincaid. This is the character I wanted to read more about. Of course, I love Dade. Love how they meet and come to be.
Honestly, I loved the book so much, I didn't want it to end. There were a few parts I felt were a wee bit like a text book at the end. Perhaps, I would have loved to have seen more of how rotten and confused Pablo came to be, this emotional wreck who needed Dade but swore he didn't. But this was in first person. So you get Dade's story.
It was a lovely gay fiction story. Lots of realism even if I didn't like the ending.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Its bloody worth it.
You have a simple gang in the city of UK. And as luck would have it, boys would be boys which means trouble. And there is Derrick who you aren't quite sure if maybe he might have a social problem. Anyway, he is such a follower and always getting by the skin of his teeth. As the story progresses you have to wonder if its based on a true story from another era.
A brother lands in jail for all his anti-authority. As far as the judicial system knows, this bugger has it in for the coppers. So he's off to the slammer for a very long time which makes his younger brother, Chris Craig played by Paul Reynolds (who was about 14 or 16 at the time) blood boil.
This really is Paul Reynolds' film. He is a tad devious, emotional, a wreck and his character's got a gun & he's making his last stand against the coppers who have his brother.
Let one line change the course of everything. "Let him have it". Reynold's character does the inevitable when a cop bust out on the roof. He let him have. One shot in the head, and he's dead.
Chris Craig is out to shoot everyone. I do wonder if perhaps the creators of Hollyoaks got their idea for Craig Dean from this character. Granted Craig had his mischief, but there was always the "me" factor about him. And that's what Chris Craig is all about. Fortunately, due to his age, he went to the slammer...while Derrick who was 19..who was just there and didn't do a thing, gets the execution.
This is a film, half the ingenuity of what gangs do back in the 50's while the rest is how the court takes care of these misfits. It always seems the bad guys still get away while the good gets punished.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
His name is Alfie who befriends Ian after his one off that didn't end so well with Maxie.
When I saw Nolan Gerad Funk's picture, immediately, I thought, he's so Newt from Hollyoaks. To bad Nico who plays Newt can't sport his real hair. It is rather sweet. Other trivia-on Spectacular Nolan's name was Nikko.
Its hard to say how the show really panned out with the critics. But with that cool Rocker look, surely it will help Canadian Funk's career. He's in his early twenties so lets hope he's the new IT GUY soon.
Anyway, do you see the resemblance?
It did inspire me to want to write about Newt and Alfie.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
I couldn't help myself. After noticing someone looking for Skin's Maxxie fan fic, I decided. Why not. A friend I were discussing the third season which she can hardly stand so I thought more about Maxxie and Tony and what if. They were both so amazing in the show. Although, I never really got into Georgie so much. But still, I kept thinking..hmmmm..had Maxxie said that to Tony just because of Michelle when they were back in that room in Russia. Maybe. Or was it the fact that Tony thrived in doing anything that might keep him from a commitment to Michelle. And how Maxxie really feel about her, too? So many question. So much to ponder. It makes me smile to think about.
I hated to see that part of show end that way. Yet, so many talented actors that I can only hope will make it in films. They definitely are up and coming. And probably againsts my better judgemnt I started Maxxie and Tony. Two of my favorites from Skins.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
But just in case you were hungry for the usual. There is Something in your mouth, Burn it to the ground and of course S.E.X. Possibly tunes toned down to previous lyrics that you were afraid to admit you knew the words too. This group makes you smile, makes you think. Makes you remember the time you were with who and doing what? With this sort of CD, they are in for the long haul. They will make you look back and say, they are classic rock. Of course, you might not think it at the moment. And it would be hard to compare them to Credence Clearwater Revival or the Eagles, but this might be the group you'll still be listening to years from now. This might be your one CD for summer. Just maybe.
Of course, I'm not so sure I know just how dark this horse is that they speak of. They do seem to be sticking to their tried and true to their fans. It just goes to show that there is a slightly darker side to the listener and what sort of sexy lives they have. Perhaps. Or wish for.
I think most will be content with the CD who have bought their stuff in the past. Yet, there are those who probably wished it had been darker. A tad more earthy. OK, maybe a lot more earthy, who dig those dirty secrets told. But its a rather radio friendly CD and who knows this might be the one that gets the gold.
Monday, May 11, 2009
"What is this doing in the trash?" I yanked it out of the morning egg shells.
"What are you doing with an old thing like that, anyway?" Vinny crossed his arms.
"I like it," I said, "What else matters?"
It was my history not his. He didn't need to know how I came by it nor why I chose to keep it.
"You never wear it."
"Because, I couldn't find it.....obviously." Things were mixed up since Vinny moved in.
"It's been in your closet for ages."
"You haven't been here that long."
"Long enough, Monica." His dark eyes glared at me, "What is so damn special about that sweater?"
"It's..it's all I have left."
I told him all there was to know about Bo. It was one of those in between things, in between semesters, in between boyfriends, but it was special. We'd seen 311 together at the Ranch Bowl.
"Left of what?"
"I don't like this Vinny," I said, "We're going to have a fight, aren't we?"
"What do you mean? Like a boxing match? This is a discussion."
"There's nothing to discuss." I put the sweater in the wash.
"I think there's something you're not telling me."
Vinny was such a little boy at times. I liked that about him in the beginning. He amused me with his quaint cuteness. He was the child I wanted. I watched his lips pout. He could look quite pathetic when he wanted with those puppy eyes.
"Who's sweater is it, Monica?"
"It was a gift. All right."
I guess Bo forgot about it, but it seemed like a gift after all this time. He was not coming back for it. There was no reason too. He was a nomad by nature.
"An old sweater?" I heard him laugh. "Who gave you the sweater, Monica?"
"I wish you wouldn't make such a big deal out of this."
"A big deal? You're the one making a big deal, Monica."
It was Saturday. We were suppose to be in the car driving around town looking for garage sales, even a trip to a nearby state park. We were to be together.
"I'm your boyfriend, right?" Vinny said, "and...and..if this is something that's going to come between us..then...."
"It's either the sweater, or me....has to go."
I'd never seen such distrust in those eyes before. What a baby.
"Oh...God...get real...PLEASE...don't make this such a stupid thing!"
But I could see his disgust. He paced in the kitchen until he went to the bathroom. I heard the clutter on the the bathroom counter hit the floor. He was getting his things together to leave.
I banged on the bathroom door.
"What are you doing?"
"What do you think I'm doing?"
There he was with his satchel filled with his basic essentials from the bathroom.
"C'mon, you can't be serious."
"You don't think I'm serious?" Vinny said, "I'm ready to walk out that door if you don't throw that sweater away!"
"It's just a sweater."
"Right, that's all it is, Monica....just a sweater."
"So forget about the sweater."
"No, you forget about the damn sweater."
Vinny cut past me to the bedroom. I followed, watching him find his suitcase in his organized closet. The man made me furious with all his energy to have everything in order. I thought I loved that about him since I was a dysfunctional clutter magnet. I could never find my reading glasses, and I'm not sure where my coffee mugs disappear too . Probably under the couch, but that was spotless, too.
"Do you realize what this would mean?" I asked, "We'd have to start dividing our stuff." I looked at the firm queen sized bed. The plaid, blue and white comforter creased neatly under the pillow. He loved that bed made to perfection. I wanted to jump on it to cause some kind of disorder, but I didn't. "Who'd get the bed?"
"I bought that bed."
"But we made love on that bed before we ever had a bed frame for it."
"We didn't have sheets on that bed."
He remembered. He knew that day when it wouldn't stop raining, and we couldn't get enough of each other. I remember the sweat, maybe the humidity. No, it was just us, and I knew then how it would be if we were together. It was fast. It was furious, foreplay, floor-play, anywhere it could happen, and it did. It was a craving. I smiled. How could he be mad over such a little thing, the old sweater.
"It's our bed." I told him, "You couldn't possibly go to bed with someone else in our bed."
"But it's okay if you keep some old lover's sweater?"
"A sweater can be washed."
"You don't ever think about him, do you when...when..when we're together, do you?"
I noticed he was hardly finding anything to pack in his empty suitcase.
"Of course not."
I pushed my fingers through my wavy hair. This was the headache from hell. This was not suppose to be happening. My parents were coming tomorrow for brunch. We were grownups. My parents were waiting patiently for a wedding date soon.
I closed his empty suit case, latched it and put it back in the closet. I looked at him then. Those dark eyes of his were crying.
If we looked at each other long enough, I knew it would happen. It did. He peeled my undershirt off before any second thoughts.
I'm not sure how we could undress quite that fast. I'd hate to see it on video. I'm sure it wouldn't be pretty. The trouble he had getting out of his underwear was sometimes enough cause for a laugh. Anyhow, it was fun in bed.
There was no time for foreplay just the kissing, a playful passion to get from plan A to plan B. Luckily, we stayed on the bed. The sweat dripped among other things, and the exercise always left me hungry. Only I didn't like to cook, and he laid there in exhaustion for the most part which generally left him in a deep sleep of snoring. It was like I knew what was going to happen before we got there on this Saturday romp.
But that's not what happened. Of course, he made his little jumps from here to there. At this rate, we'd need a new bed by the time we got married. Vinny was hard on furniture. I could only hope someday he might slow down, and I'd have half as much fun as he seemed to have in his vigor of hasty intercourse.
There were times when I might have asked, "Is it over already?"
Once when he had to be in class in fifteen minutes he left in a hurry then I heard the door unlock. I asked him if he forgot something. He shook his head, and we had a quickie in the living-room floor.
I remembered Regis was were on. I had watched the show upside down. I am sure I didn't appreciate all this as much as he did.
When we were done that was on my mind. My head hanging off the bed, looking upside down with the blood rushing to my brain. I was in a pool of sweat, famished and wondering why he wasn't in his corner snoring. No, he got up, found his underwear in a ball under the bed. He dressed quickly, and I wrapped myself up in the sheet, laying there wondering why this happened.
Nothing said, nothing broken. He was going. I felt bitter about this, and yet I knew there was no romance, not really. I didn't feel for him what I felt for Bo and the old sweater. Just the same, my body didn't believe me. It felt complete next to his. It found delight in his warmth, the sensation in his cool sweat. I wasn't sure I could go on without him.
But the door slammed shut. There was the old sweater. The trouble heaped on the bedroom floor. There was no nostalgia left in it.
I got up then to look through the dirty clothes. There it was. His favorite gray Red Dog T-shirt. I put it on. I wondered how long I'd have to wear it before I washed it.