Ebony Cove

Show us something that made the hairs on your neck stand up. 
Submitted by Cece.

Video: What was the first R-rated movie you saw (or were allowed to see)?

Pretty Woman

I was freeze tag, basketball, doge ball, grass stains, tree climbing, bike crashes, and fishing. I was road rash, wild hair, one of the guys, and baseball caps turned sideways on my head. I was grubby hands, chewed fingernails, and water balloon fights. At nine - none of me was girl. Not even the boobs I'd duct taped flat to my chest beneath my shirt so the guys wouldn't ogle and stare. I, wanted to hang with the guys forever.

But, on my tenth birthday, my parents proposed a small birthday outing. One that contained a day at the mall and for a special treat a trip to the movies to see 'Pretty Woman'. The movie itself was lost on me. I was gun fights, Kung Fu, and car chases, but my one and only girlfriend at the time was so estatic about the mall and the movie that I couldn't say no.

The mall was a bust as I took up my usual spot outside the dressing room door while Stace tried on every girly-womanly thing she could squeeze in and out of. My job, nod in approval and give the thumbs up, even if it made her look 'fat'. To object meant a sound throttling that only the likes of Stace could meet out. I learned quickly that most of the women I'd ever befriend aren't really interested in the truth about clothing and how it looks. You only become the responsible party for bad clothing choices when they wear the new outfit into public and receive negative feedback. I'll take my beating later rather than sooner, thanks. The chances of being able to go into hiding grows exponetially when you go with the latter, trust me.

Loaded down with all the goodies that goes with the movie experience, Stace dragged me to some front row seats and began spouting a mile a minute the gist of the movie. How Stace knew about hookers, pimps, sex and relationships at eleven, I'll never know. I always blamed it on her countless subscriptions to all the teenage girly magazines and Sweet Valley High books - although, I doubt they included hookers. Sluts maybe, but Stace assured me that they were much the same. The only difference, hookers got paid. Stace was always such a guiding light in the ways of women and all womanly things and issues.

The notion that I was about to sit through a 'Chick Flick' complete with kissing and hand holding (and what Stace promised to be much more) instantly made me feel sick. While guys never had cooties to me when growing up, the notion of wanting to do any of those things with any guy was totally gross. I'd wrestle them, pummel them, and go head-to-head on any court regardless if I was good at the sport or not...but none of that touchy feely crap. Stace could keep that. I was always weirded when she'd talk about the boys she liked, her eyes would get all vacant, her voice high, and her breaths came in rapid little pants. Freaky if you asked me. The only time I'd ever gotten like that was when Nick or Bo would kick the soccer ball into my stomach on the field.

Watching the movie was awkward. We were the only under eighteens in a theatre full of grown ups. And Stace was all a flitter and a flutter as the scenes unfolded. I quietly crammed popcorn and candy into my mouth while sucking down soda. I can't say I didn't like the movie, because secretly I did. It was only right that I make sour faces and shake my head vehemently when Stace would talk about her 'love' spiel. I told her I enjoyed watching 'Beetlejuice' with her better than seeing this.

But...it got me thinking, stupid movie.

I started thinking about boys. Thinking about them in ways I'd rather not. Beacuse...

I was freeze tag, basketball, doge ball, grass stains, tree climbing, bike crashes, and fishing. I was road rash, wild hair, one of the guys, and baseball caps turned sideways on my head. I was grubby hands, chewed fingernails, and water balloon fights...

But, at ten, I became a little touch of lip gloss, occasional skirts, tamed hair, painted nails, and a bra. I thought about boys, the possibility of handholding, and the mystery of a real first kiss...but at the same time I could still kick the ass of any of my guy friends on the court any day - as long as it wasn't soccer.

 

 

Video:  Show us your favorite show, scene or movie that takes place in the future.

Living above the influence as a teen was easy-peasy. It was in my nature to do the exact opposite of what everyone else was doing.

Flash forward to the present...

There wasn't a need for even the most stereotypical kind of peer pressure...just a cleverly written post by the wonderful Karen and 'WHOOP, THERE I GO'! I suppose I could cite curiosity, but the truth of the matter is - I just wanted to be Cool like Karen. ;)

And...maybe get a chance to read the unedited/quick thoughts that flash through the mind of others - those quick thoughts/observations that end up turning into humorous or inspiring posts.

- Just One Of The Heard

Baaaaaaa!

Usually I'd pop over and drop off something like soup, a card/letter, A bottle of O.J. (not Simpson), Sprite,  or a stuffed animal. But...since you and I don't exactly live in the same neighborhood, much less the same state, or possibly even occupy the same time zone...

Just wanted you to know that I heard through the Ninja Pipeline that you'd been taken down by our old nemesis - Virus.  Here's hoping/wishing that you are up and about very, very, very soon - sending you plenty of Healthy Happy Get Well Wishes Most Honorable Ninja Friend!

In preschool we were often asked how we felt after morning roll call. To my teacher, the standardized answer  of "Fine" or "Good" wasn't enough - she wanted as much detail as a four-year old could muster and if words failed you -  you could pantomine.

Those moments made me sick.
I tried making us late to school.
I tried crawling under the tables to hide.
I swallowed plastic Play School people, until she moved me away from the toy box.
I faked the urge to use the restroom right before my turn.
And...held my breath on a few occasions until I passed out.

At 4 (and even now) I can show you, better than I can tell you how I feel.

My Grandpa saw the distress that those morning feeling sessions caused, so on the weekends he began asking, "How's your Inner Squirrel this morning?"

"My what?"

"Your Inner Squirrel," he'd state matter-of-factly, as though it was common knowledge that everyone had an Inner Squirrel.

"Inner Squirrel..."

He then took a stick and began drawing stick figures on the ground and spinning a tale about how emotions were generated by our Inner Squirrel. He said Inner Squirrels run on a wheel similiar to Kodo's (my hamster at the time). However, rather than keep the Squirrel in shape like it did for Kodo (or in Kodo's case, his shape was always round) it produced feelings/emotions.

It was then I asked my Grandpa if we could trade my Inner Squirrel for a new one because I thought mine was broke. He laughed and asked why. I told him my Inner Squirrel always choked right before we had to share the very things Inner Squirrels were supposed to make.  He patted me on the back and explained that some Squirrels were just shy - like real squirrels. He told me I had to be patient...that with time, my Inner Squirrel would warm to those terryifying sharing sessions and he'd begin to make headway on my Emotions Wheel, which in turn would translate into words that he hoped would come out of my mouth.

I bought the story. I always did. I bought it, because he told it. And everything he'd ever told me turned into truth, perhaps not in the way it was first explained - but always truth - truth in age appropriate terms.

So, my Inner Squirrel never truly got over Public Wheel Fright...and on occasion he gags, chokes, and sputters on the wheel. But he has improved...for instance...

I was taking inventory on how I felt today. Gently, I poked my Inner Squirrel in the side.

This was his response:

Raaaaawwwwr

In one word, the same word that made me chortle while watching the animated Hellboy movie Sword of Storms.

"Crap."

Hellboy - Sword of Storms

Dear Secret Ninja Buddy,

Your letter made me smile and laugh my way through what could've been a hectic/stressful day at work (the kind that makes you want to crawl under your desk and hide). Just wanted to let you know that unlike the ninja search party sent to find me during my absence...your letter made it through. ;)

If you need help finding your ninjas gone astray, I'd be more than happy to help...especially since it'd been my wanderings that lead to their disappearance. Also...I'm going to have a stern talking to with a certain Mr. Oak - glad you're okay. :)

Happy Thursday, dearest and most honorable friend.

*bows & hugs*

In one word - that about sums up the time between this and my last post.