chelsea
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
Monday, January 03, 2005
Monday, December 20, 2004
The last exam
I sit here waiting for the inevitable
One hour left
Draining
I have things to do but my brain is muddled
Not good
Wearing
Voacbulary that I need to know
Runs through my head
Exhausiting
The last exam is always the hardest to get through
I've got no more modivation
Energyless
One hour left
Draining
I have things to do but my brain is muddled
Not good
Wearing
Voacbulary that I need to know
Runs through my head
Exhausiting
The last exam is always the hardest to get through
I've got no more modivation
Energyless
Monday's poetry exam
These werethe poems on monday's poetry exam:
ANDREW MOTION
Anne Frank Huis
Even now, after twice her lifetime of grief
and anger in the very place, whoever comes
to climb these narrow stairs, discovers how
the bookcase slides aside, then walks through
shadow into sunlit rooms, can never help
but break her secrecy again. Just listening
is a kind of guilt. The Westerkerk repeats
itself outside, as if all time worked round
toward her fear, and made each stroke die
down on guarded streets. Imagine it --
three years of whispering and loneliness
and plotting, day by day, the Allied line
in Europe with a yellow chalk. What hope
she had for ordinary love and interest
survives her here, displayed above the bed
as pictures of her family; some actors;
fashions chosen by Princess Elizabeth.
And those who stoop to see them find
not only patience missing its reward,
but one enduring wish for chances like
my own: to leave as simply as I do,
and walk where couples drift at ease
up dusty tree-lined avenues, or watch
a silent barge come clear of bridges
settling their reflection in the blue canal.
___________________________________
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
How Do I Love Thee?
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
ANDREW MOTION
Anne Frank Huis
Even now, after twice her lifetime of grief
and anger in the very place, whoever comes
to climb these narrow stairs, discovers how
the bookcase slides aside, then walks through
shadow into sunlit rooms, can never help
but break her secrecy again. Just listening
is a kind of guilt. The Westerkerk repeats
itself outside, as if all time worked round
toward her fear, and made each stroke die
down on guarded streets. Imagine it --
three years of whispering and loneliness
and plotting, day by day, the Allied line
in Europe with a yellow chalk. What hope
she had for ordinary love and interest
survives her here, displayed above the bed
as pictures of her family; some actors;
fashions chosen by Princess Elizabeth.
And those who stoop to see them find
not only patience missing its reward,
but one enduring wish for chances like
my own: to leave as simply as I do,
and walk where couples drift at ease
up dusty tree-lined avenues, or watch
a silent barge come clear of bridges
settling their reflection in the blue canal.
___________________________________
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
How Do I Love Thee?
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
Teasing Your Prey
This is the sequel to Playing With Your Food
Xavier paced his bedroom. The sun had yet to go down and he was itching to go out. His childe Charlotte had not returned home before sunrise and he was impatient to find her. She'd never been unable to come home, and Xavier worried about what could have happened. She wasn't dust, he was sure of that. He could still feel the bond between the two of them coursing through his blood.
"Bloody hell, where is that chit?! If she isn't injured or captured she'll be tortured violently." He went over to the cart he kept his blood in and poured himself a glass. "Stupid Bint." He cursed as he took a sip of the sweet elixer.
"Master, I've arranged the boys." A voice said from behind him.
"Good. Make sure that they're out looking for her as soon as night falls. Tell them that if they return fed and she isn't found, that they'll be dust."
"Yes Master."
Xavier waved the minion away and turned back to the curtained windows.
In the distance he heard the sounds of bombs falling in large numbers onto central London. Buying the mansion outside the city had been a very wize idea. One given to him by his childe. His now missing childe.
"Sire, they've started bombing again." His second in command came back to tell him.
"I can hear them, Charles. I'm going deaf, bu I'm not deaf yet."
"Of coarse, master, I didn't mean to imply-"
"Get on with it!" Xavier cut him off.
"The boys are scared to go. They fear the airraids."
"Tell them that who ever doesn't go out at night fall will enjoy a lovely crucifing with a premiere viewing to the rising sun!" His angry voice carried. He knew that the minions would hear it and out of fear follow orders.
Sitting in an armchair before the fireplace he closed his eyes and listened to the glorifying sounds of death and destruction. His demon both lept with joy and raiated fear. The thick minions he had wouldn't even know where to begin, which meant that he would have to go into the bombing night himself.
The night would fall in minutes and Xavier could feel he setting sun in what seemed like jolts on his cold skin. It wouldn't be long now, a few more minutes. Drinking down the rest of the crimson fluid he stood up to get ready. With the few remaning minutes he'd called for his coat and given instructions to his minions to find Charlotte. Then, as soon as the sun had set they had all left to find her.
Taking only Charles with him, Xavier drove towards the center of the city. The first place to look was in the subway system. Hundreds of people would have retreated down into it when the curtain of lights and bombs began to pour over the city.
They were closed off. It took them a moment to get inside. Those behind the closed doors were more than reluctant to open them for the two males. The bombs were coming down more frequently and also closer to their location. They quickly passed through the barrier and made their way down into the subway system.
Hundereds of people where hudeled down in the tunnels. Subways had continued moving so that family members would be able to locate one another. If Xavier hadn't been so focused in finding his childe, he might have taken a moment to admire all the food just walking around him, unaware of the danger that threatened them even here, in what they thought was a safe haven.
After looking around the station, Xavier and Charles spent the better part of the day strategically moving from station to station. It wasn't until close to sundown that they seemed to find the lost childe- with a young lad in her arms.
"But Gregory, it would be so much fun. We could stroll around at night together and not have to worry about these damned bombs."
"No young lady should be out at night by herself." He commented back in his pompus voice.
"But, you'll be with me, so I have nothing to fear." She commented batting her eyes.
Xavier could hear her playful voice, and knew she was playing with what was little more than a boy. "I quite agree." He spoke up, making his presence known.
Both sets of eyes turned to him. "Daddy, I knew you'd find me."
"I'm very cross with you, Charlotte. You promised me that you'd be home before the sun set."
"I know, but then I met Thomas." She smiled, hunger from her kill still in her eyes.
"Who's Thomas?" Gregory asked.
"And then I ran into an Andrew. He tasted funny though, like plastic." She looked thoughtful as she relived her earlier hours. "And then, the bombs started falling so I came down here. There was this very small girl called Cathrine. She smelled like chocolate. Can I have some daddy?"
"Andrew? Cathrine?" The boy was confused.
"When we get home, luv. Now, quickly finish up and we'll get out of here."
"But there are so many more down here, sire, all unable to escape. It's like a buffet, all we have to do is choose which ones are the juicyest."
"Very well. But, please do finish up here."
"Yes, sire." She said.
Xavier watched as she leaned down and kissed the neck just under her lips and with a quick motion that she had been taught by him after her turning, she attacked his neck. She seemed almost delicate with her food, not allowing a drop of blood to escape. Chaucer came to mind as he recited the small section of the prioress, from the prologue, in his head. She seemed almost dainty in her kill.
Moments later the lifeless body was dropped to the floor.
From her sleve Charlotte pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed her lips. With a wide smile she bounced over to Xavier and took his arm. "Now, where shall we hunt?"
Xavier smiled and looked over at Charles. "Charles? Where do you suggest?"
"I do believe I remember hearing that they were housing all the orphans at Charings Cross. I'm sure Miss Charlotte would enjoy the robust taste their blood gives."
Xavier smiled. "I do belive you're right, Charles."
Charlotte seemed to skip next to him. "Maybe we can play ring-around-the-roses." She smiled, her eyes showing her sinister disposition. She licked her lips in good measure and looked up at the older vampire.
"I'm sure they'd love to, pet."
END
Xavier paced his bedroom. The sun had yet to go down and he was itching to go out. His childe Charlotte had not returned home before sunrise and he was impatient to find her. She'd never been unable to come home, and Xavier worried about what could have happened. She wasn't dust, he was sure of that. He could still feel the bond between the two of them coursing through his blood.
"Bloody hell, where is that chit?! If she isn't injured or captured she'll be tortured violently." He went over to the cart he kept his blood in and poured himself a glass. "Stupid Bint." He cursed as he took a sip of the sweet elixer.
"Master, I've arranged the boys." A voice said from behind him.
"Good. Make sure that they're out looking for her as soon as night falls. Tell them that if they return fed and she isn't found, that they'll be dust."
"Yes Master."
Xavier waved the minion away and turned back to the curtained windows.
In the distance he heard the sounds of bombs falling in large numbers onto central London. Buying the mansion outside the city had been a very wize idea. One given to him by his childe. His now missing childe.
"Sire, they've started bombing again." His second in command came back to tell him.
"I can hear them, Charles. I'm going deaf, bu I'm not deaf yet."
"Of coarse, master, I didn't mean to imply-"
"Get on with it!" Xavier cut him off.
"The boys are scared to go. They fear the airraids."
"Tell them that who ever doesn't go out at night fall will enjoy a lovely crucifing with a premiere viewing to the rising sun!" His angry voice carried. He knew that the minions would hear it and out of fear follow orders.
Sitting in an armchair before the fireplace he closed his eyes and listened to the glorifying sounds of death and destruction. His demon both lept with joy and raiated fear. The thick minions he had wouldn't even know where to begin, which meant that he would have to go into the bombing night himself.
The night would fall in minutes and Xavier could feel he setting sun in what seemed like jolts on his cold skin. It wouldn't be long now, a few more minutes. Drinking down the rest of the crimson fluid he stood up to get ready. With the few remaning minutes he'd called for his coat and given instructions to his minions to find Charlotte. Then, as soon as the sun had set they had all left to find her.
Taking only Charles with him, Xavier drove towards the center of the city. The first place to look was in the subway system. Hundreds of people would have retreated down into it when the curtain of lights and bombs began to pour over the city.
They were closed off. It took them a moment to get inside. Those behind the closed doors were more than reluctant to open them for the two males. The bombs were coming down more frequently and also closer to their location. They quickly passed through the barrier and made their way down into the subway system.
Hundereds of people where hudeled down in the tunnels. Subways had continued moving so that family members would be able to locate one another. If Xavier hadn't been so focused in finding his childe, he might have taken a moment to admire all the food just walking around him, unaware of the danger that threatened them even here, in what they thought was a safe haven.
After looking around the station, Xavier and Charles spent the better part of the day strategically moving from station to station. It wasn't until close to sundown that they seemed to find the lost childe- with a young lad in her arms.
"But Gregory, it would be so much fun. We could stroll around at night together and not have to worry about these damned bombs."
"No young lady should be out at night by herself." He commented back in his pompus voice.
"But, you'll be with me, so I have nothing to fear." She commented batting her eyes.
Xavier could hear her playful voice, and knew she was playing with what was little more than a boy. "I quite agree." He spoke up, making his presence known.
Both sets of eyes turned to him. "Daddy, I knew you'd find me."
"I'm very cross with you, Charlotte. You promised me that you'd be home before the sun set."
"I know, but then I met Thomas." She smiled, hunger from her kill still in her eyes.
"Who's Thomas?" Gregory asked.
"And then I ran into an Andrew. He tasted funny though, like plastic." She looked thoughtful as she relived her earlier hours. "And then, the bombs started falling so I came down here. There was this very small girl called Cathrine. She smelled like chocolate. Can I have some daddy?"
"Andrew? Cathrine?" The boy was confused.
"When we get home, luv. Now, quickly finish up and we'll get out of here."
"But there are so many more down here, sire, all unable to escape. It's like a buffet, all we have to do is choose which ones are the juicyest."
"Very well. But, please do finish up here."
"Yes, sire." She said.
Xavier watched as she leaned down and kissed the neck just under her lips and with a quick motion that she had been taught by him after her turning, she attacked his neck. She seemed almost delicate with her food, not allowing a drop of blood to escape. Chaucer came to mind as he recited the small section of the prioress, from the prologue, in his head. She seemed almost dainty in her kill.
Moments later the lifeless body was dropped to the floor.
From her sleve Charlotte pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed her lips. With a wide smile she bounced over to Xavier and took his arm. "Now, where shall we hunt?"
Xavier smiled and looked over at Charles. "Charles? Where do you suggest?"
"I do believe I remember hearing that they were housing all the orphans at Charings Cross. I'm sure Miss Charlotte would enjoy the robust taste their blood gives."
Xavier smiled. "I do belive you're right, Charles."
Charlotte seemed to skip next to him. "Maybe we can play ring-around-the-roses." She smiled, her eyes showing her sinister disposition. She licked her lips in good measure and looked up at the older vampire.
"I'm sure they'd love to, pet."
END
Jack
Lecture on the Chrinicles of Jack given by Jackoline Jackson at the University of Jacksville, Jackpot. 1st of november 2004
These are the accounts of Jack. Not chronicles, for most accounts are as short as a sentence. For example: “Jack was born.” This three-word sentence holds such meaning. Jack was created and then lived among us from that point on. The importance of this sentence is almost incomprehensible for those who are not from Jackpot. The length of the sentence only makes it seem to to the point, for outsiders, but Jackpotters didn’t intend it as that. Rather, the reason is because there is no information available. It is unknown when and to whom he was born, merely that he was born. There are speculations to where, however: the General Hospital, under a weeping willow, in a bus stop- but nothing concrete. It is also thought that when he died, or disappeared, or abducted, depending on whom you ask, Jack was thought to be thirty, in that case offering a rough estimate in the year. Even this, though, is not entirely set in stone; as other resources say that he was ‘just a boy, and barely a man,’ which would imply that he was closer to being a teenager. Hence the fact that we merely say that he was born and rejoice in it.
Other short accounts, for example: Jack and the Pilgrim, are told as bedtime stories to little children with short attention spans and just want to go to sleep: “Jack walked down the dusty road on a rainy day. Half way he encountered a Pilgrim. ‘Well met, fine sir,’ he said and the Pilgrim groaned in greeting. Then the two of them parted.” There are many different interpretations of this account. Some believe that the fact that Jack walked a dusty road while it rained implied that he walked the road regularly to know that it was dusty. Others say that wherever Jack stepped, it would automatically dry- that he used supernatural powers in order to keep from getting wet. The latter is the more plausible of the two, for if Jack indeed walked the road regularly, he would have been recognized and there would have been more written in the accounts.
It is also not known where he was talking to when he met the Pilgrim. Nor is it known where he was walking from, simply that he was walking. A diary entry of an unknown Pilgrim tells of a story with such an encounter. The Pilgrim though, stated that the man he encountered between Arock and Ahardplace, seemed to him to be a man of the cloth, which too seems unlikely, considering the story the third account in the Jack and Jill scripts. In the third and last part of the parchment it tells of Jack trying to become intimate with Jill and her reply to his attempted seduction being: “Jack! Off!”
Unfortunately the Jill mentioned here, too, was never found. In the first part of the script, which speaks of Jack and Jill’s youth, it says: “Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water. Jack fell down and broke his crown, and Jill came tumbling after. Then up Jack got and home he did trot as fast as he could caper. They put him to bed and plastered his head, with vinegar and water.” Some stories say that Jack patched himself up, resulting in parts of the country knowing him as Jack-of-all-traits, especially considering he is speculated to be the creator of Flap Jacks, and Cracker Jacks. However, people in the southern part of Jackpot say that cooking was merely his hobby, and if he were to be called something it would be Black Jack, for the way he played cards and constantly seemed to win on the Jack of clubs. Whether he cheated or not, though is questionable.
Jack-of-all-traits and Black Jack, are only some of the names that have been mentioned over time. In certain texts he was noted to have names such as Jack Frost, and Jack Robinson. However, the latter was a little bit of a mouthful for the youngsters and therefore the expression: “faster than you can say Jack Robinson,” became a hype between the Jackpotters’ youth.
Later on in life he apparently began taking pleasure in the creating of wooden objects. According to the chronicles of Jack, Jack could be seen at many different locations cutting down trees. This caused the term wodcutter to become obsolete as it was then replaced by Lumberjack in honor of the magnificent way in which he was able to cut down trees efficiently and with a tramendous amount of force.
Jack's influence in language and culture has been extraordinary. Never before had we heard anything so prodigious as the Jack and we probably never will.
Thank you.
Monday, December 13, 2004
Christmas Dinner 2004
With the soup and starter over we turned to the main course- salad, beans, potatos, and duck. Peter went first saying: "This time I'm not going last! God, they'll think I'm a pig for running for it."
I laughed and shrugged. "Nah, I'll go with you."
We scooped up our food and waited for the others to d the same, quietl chatting about the food and how everyone had been nice enough to bring something. "Why didn't you tell me to bring something too? Were you scared I couldn't cook? I'm actually pretty good!"
"It wasn't that. It was more along the lines of that you'd have to come by train from Leiden, and you'd have to bring it with you. The train would smell and people would be looking, I couldn't do that to you. Hey, I know! I did it this morning when I came from Jelena's with the salad her mother had made. God, people were looking and asking me about it all over!" He laughed, nodding in understanding.
Everyone had returned from the table and we had all begun eating, when Sarina, across from me began complaining about money! "God, this chicken was fucking expemsive!"
"Chicken, Sar? It's duck!"
"No, it's chicken!"
I looked down at my plate checking to make sure, but sure enough, staring right back at me was a duck leg.
"No babe, it's duck."
"It's chicken. We asked for chicken and the lady said, "Will je een kippe bout zien?" Right Ife?"
Ife nodded with a smile. "Yeah, she did."
"See?" Sarina defended herself.
"Said it or not, this is duck, not chicken."
"It's chicken!"
"Duck!"
"Chicken!"
"Just say it's chicken." Jelena said. "Let her be happy."
"Ja," agreed Kris, "Misschien stopped ze wel."
"It is duck though," Fransy added for good measure, not knowing herself, but wanting to put in her two words too. This then started up some sort of hype, because before you knew it, everyone began agreeing that it was duck.
"It's duck," Paul finally said humorfully, "but for Sarina it's chicken."
Everyone laughed.
"Thanks Paul," Sarina said. "Thanks."
End
I laughed and shrugged. "Nah, I'll go with you."
We scooped up our food and waited for the others to d the same, quietl chatting about the food and how everyone had been nice enough to bring something. "Why didn't you tell me to bring something too? Were you scared I couldn't cook? I'm actually pretty good!"
"It wasn't that. It was more along the lines of that you'd have to come by train from Leiden, and you'd have to bring it with you. The train would smell and people would be looking, I couldn't do that to you. Hey, I know! I did it this morning when I came from Jelena's with the salad her mother had made. God, people were looking and asking me about it all over!" He laughed, nodding in understanding.
Everyone had returned from the table and we had all begun eating, when Sarina, across from me began complaining about money! "God, this chicken was fucking expemsive!"
"Chicken, Sar? It's duck!"
"No, it's chicken!"
I looked down at my plate checking to make sure, but sure enough, staring right back at me was a duck leg.
"No babe, it's duck."
"It's chicken. We asked for chicken and the lady said, "Will je een kippe bout zien?" Right Ife?"
Ife nodded with a smile. "Yeah, she did."
"See?" Sarina defended herself.
"Said it or not, this is duck, not chicken."
"It's chicken!"
"Duck!"
"Chicken!"
"Just say it's chicken." Jelena said. "Let her be happy."
"Ja," agreed Kris, "Misschien stopped ze wel."
"It is duck though," Fransy added for good measure, not knowing herself, but wanting to put in her two words too. This then started up some sort of hype, because before you knew it, everyone began agreeing that it was duck.
"It's duck," Paul finally said humorfully, "but for Sarina it's chicken."
Everyone laughed.
"Thanks Paul," Sarina said. "Thanks."
End
Mercedes Benz by* Janis Joplin
(from the album 'Pearl')
Oh Lord, wont you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?
My friends all drive Porsches,
I must make amends.
Worked hard all my lifetime,
no help from my friends,
So Lord, wont you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?
Oh Lord, wont you buy me a color TV ?
Dialing For Dollars
is trying to find me.
I wait for delivery each day until three,
So oh Lord, wont you buy me a color TV ?
Oh Lord, wont you buy me a night on the town ?
Im counting on you, Lord,
please dont let me down.
Prove that you love me
and buy the next round,
Oh Lord, wont you buy me a night on the town ?
Everybody!
Oh Lord, wont you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?
My friends all drive Porsches,
I must make amends,
Worked hard all my lifetime,
no help from my friends,
So oh Lord, wont you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?
Thats it!
*performed, and possibly written, (by)
And now our version:
Oh lord, wont you buy me a nice living space,
I live in a dump,
And I need a nice place,
Oh yeah,
Please help me save my face,
Oh lord, wont you buy me a nice living space.
Oh lord, wont you give me a big plate of food,
My money's run low
And I'm in one of those moods,
My friends seem to think
I am poor and a fool
Oh lord, wont you give me a big plate of food.
Oh lord, wont you send me a really nice boy
It's been way too long,
And he'll give me plenty of joy,
I've been dry way too long,
And I need a nice toy,
Oh lord, wont you send me a really nice boy
(from the album 'Pearl')
Oh Lord, wont you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?
My friends all drive Porsches,
I must make amends.
Worked hard all my lifetime,
no help from my friends,
So Lord, wont you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?
Oh Lord, wont you buy me a color TV ?
Dialing For Dollars
is trying to find me.
I wait for delivery each day until three,
So oh Lord, wont you buy me a color TV ?
Oh Lord, wont you buy me a night on the town ?
Im counting on you, Lord,
please dont let me down.
Prove that you love me
and buy the next round,
Oh Lord, wont you buy me a night on the town ?
Everybody!
Oh Lord, wont you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?
My friends all drive Porsches,
I must make amends,
Worked hard all my lifetime,
no help from my friends,
So oh Lord, wont you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?
Thats it!
*performed, and possibly written, (by)
And now our version:
Oh lord, wont you buy me a nice living space,
I live in a dump,
And I need a nice place,
Oh yeah,
Please help me save my face,
Oh lord, wont you buy me a nice living space.
Oh lord, wont you give me a big plate of food,
My money's run low
And I'm in one of those moods,
My friends seem to think
I am poor and a fool
Oh lord, wont you give me a big plate of food.
Oh lord, wont you send me a really nice boy
It's been way too long,
And he'll give me plenty of joy,
I've been dry way too long,
And I need a nice toy,
Oh lord, wont you send me a really nice boy
Monday, December 06, 2004
The Wedding
Part one of four
Samantha
The music in the adjacent hall was soft and beautiful: two violins, a cello, and a viola were playing one of the more romantic pieces from Tchikovsky's Romeo and Juliet. Alecia was fussing with the bottom of my dress, as Ingrid made sure the veil wasn't going to fall off mid procession. I looked back into the mirror at the beautiful white dress that I wore. The soft material danced around. For once in my life I looked beautiful and I actually believed it.
"Hold still, Sam!" Alecia warned. "The tail's gonna wrinkle otherwise."
"Sorry." I said, trying not to move, but I was so nervous. In a couple minutes the music would start and the doors would open. Then I began to panic. My mind was racing: 'am I doing the right thing? Do I really look okay? What if he's not there?! Oh God!'
Ingrid, who was still playing with the bloody veil, caught my look. "Sam, what's wrong?"
I took a deep breath. "Nothing. Just silly thoughts."
Then the door opened and Margriet walked in. "You ready Sam? We're ready to start. Your mom's helping your dad get his bow on straight, and then he'll be here to walk you down. Towel looks like he's about to pee in his pants."
"Mag… It's Brandon. Not Towel." I corrected her.
"He'll always be Towel to me." Her smile lighted the mood. "He said that he can't wait to see you."
"I bet he just can't wait till tonight." Ingrid laughed.
"Ingrid!" I shook my head. This was life. Friends making sexual leers, a man to love, and warm weather. Everything was perfect: until Dad walked in.
"Ready Mister Knerbein?" Margriet asked.
"Yup. You get the ball rolling." His deep voice reminded me of the many times he'd read to Charlie and Miranda.
"Here goes Sam. Good luck." Margriet leaned over and kissed my cheek and then exited the room.
"You look beautiful, Pumpkin. I'm so proud of you."
A tear threatened to fall down my cheek. "Daddy, don't make me cry. I'll ruin all this expensive make up."
He chuckled at the thought and reached into his pocket for a handkerchief. He delicately raised my hand and stuck in my sleeve. "For when you do cry." He smiled and gave me a kiss.
That's when the music started. "Oh God." I whispered.
"No worries, Sam." Alecia said. "Everything's going to be good. Just you wait and see. Now, lets get you married." She and Ingrid stood in front of me in their lilac dresses. It had taken us days to find the right ones. Some were too dark. Others were too light. When we finally had decided on the right ones we were mostly glad we had waited so long. When the doors opened they walked down the isle.
I looked up at my dad before I moved. "I love you Dad."
"I love you too." Then taking his arm I moved towards my new family and future.
End
Samantha
The music in the adjacent hall was soft and beautiful: two violins, a cello, and a viola were playing one of the more romantic pieces from Tchikovsky's Romeo and Juliet. Alecia was fussing with the bottom of my dress, as Ingrid made sure the veil wasn't going to fall off mid procession. I looked back into the mirror at the beautiful white dress that I wore. The soft material danced around. For once in my life I looked beautiful and I actually believed it.
"Hold still, Sam!" Alecia warned. "The tail's gonna wrinkle otherwise."
"Sorry." I said, trying not to move, but I was so nervous. In a couple minutes the music would start and the doors would open. Then I began to panic. My mind was racing: 'am I doing the right thing? Do I really look okay? What if he's not there?! Oh God!'
Ingrid, who was still playing with the bloody veil, caught my look. "Sam, what's wrong?"
I took a deep breath. "Nothing. Just silly thoughts."
Then the door opened and Margriet walked in. "You ready Sam? We're ready to start. Your mom's helping your dad get his bow on straight, and then he'll be here to walk you down. Towel looks like he's about to pee in his pants."
"Mag… It's Brandon. Not Towel." I corrected her.
"He'll always be Towel to me." Her smile lighted the mood. "He said that he can't wait to see you."
"I bet he just can't wait till tonight." Ingrid laughed.
"Ingrid!" I shook my head. This was life. Friends making sexual leers, a man to love, and warm weather. Everything was perfect: until Dad walked in.
"Ready Mister Knerbein?" Margriet asked.
"Yup. You get the ball rolling." His deep voice reminded me of the many times he'd read to Charlie and Miranda.
"Here goes Sam. Good luck." Margriet leaned over and kissed my cheek and then exited the room.
"You look beautiful, Pumpkin. I'm so proud of you."
A tear threatened to fall down my cheek. "Daddy, don't make me cry. I'll ruin all this expensive make up."
He chuckled at the thought and reached into his pocket for a handkerchief. He delicately raised my hand and stuck in my sleeve. "For when you do cry." He smiled and gave me a kiss.
That's when the music started. "Oh God." I whispered.
"No worries, Sam." Alecia said. "Everything's going to be good. Just you wait and see. Now, lets get you married." She and Ingrid stood in front of me in their lilac dresses. It had taken us days to find the right ones. Some were too dark. Others were too light. When we finally had decided on the right ones we were mostly glad we had waited so long. When the doors opened they walked down the isle.
I looked up at my dad before I moved. "I love you Dad."
"I love you too." Then taking his arm I moved towards my new family and future.
End
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