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My Likes and Dislikes, an Amelie-Inspired Post

/ Ajmorse / Leave a comment

I recently watched Amelie again, which is an adorable french film about a very shy young woman, who appreciates the small things in life and how she finds love. Although socially awkward Amelie should be miserable and lonely, she takes joy in small pleasures like:

‘Dipping her hand in sacks of grain, cracking creme brulee with a teaspoon, and skipping stones at St Martin’s Canal.’

9999It’s both simple and beautiful in an unsuspecting way, and I just love it. On the opposite spectrum are other characters dislikes: like puckered fingers in the bathtub, wet bathing suit shorts that stick to the skin, and the touch of someone you don’t know.

There is a lot of focus on the detail and that’s what makes it so great. I thought I’d make a list of my own just for fun:wpid-img_20150508_165734016.jpgAmanda is a shy yet passionate writer. She likes when men give their girlfriend’s flowers, running her fingers through the scruff on her boyfriend’s cheek, and driving down a long stretch of road with the sun on her face. 

wpid-img_20140602_185717984.jpg She likes listening to songs that make her cry, and the sweet yet, chewy taste of a warm chocolate chip cookie when you bite into it. Amanda likes when the colors of her food compliment each other, but she hates it when restaurants use too much salt.wpid-img_20141014_173831795.jpg
wpid-img_20150703_181421338.jpg

She dislikes long lines at the grocery store, scraping ice off her car windshield in the early morning, and when parents yell at their children in public.

She likes the smell of old books when you first open them and the crunch of potato chips after drinking a nice, cold Pepsi.

I think this is something that I could go on and on with, but why not try one of your own? It’s fun, trust me!

Happy Saturday everyone!

Writing Prompt #12: Write a story that consists mostly of dialogue

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“So then Robbie told me that he caught this giant lobster, and it practically took his arm off.”

“What’d he do with it?”

A shrug from the man across the lunch table from me. “Dunno.” He picked at some chicken in his teeth. “Cooked it up–No. That one he threw back.”

Rafael has been regaling me with tales of fishing with his cousin in Maine. In the last fifteen minutes, I’ve learned that people in Maine talk funny, chowdah is the tits, and don’t stick your face in front of a lobster. Specifically, its claws.

“What’d you do this weekend?” He asks me.

I shrug. “Went to the park. Worked out. Got a pizza.”

“Your life is so boring, dude.”

I shrug again but its more like a wince. “Daniella left, you know. Again.”

“Why you wasting your time with her? Get a new one.” He juggles his hands in front of his chest knowingly. Our co-worker, Jane, makes an appalled face.

I bite back a laugh. “Naw, man…I don’t think Merlin would approve.” Merlin’s my five-year old rottweiler who’s part human and part dog-child all wrapped into one-hundred and thirty pounds of goofball; but mostly he just hogs the covers.

“I think I have a cousin, you can meet,” says Rafael.

“I hope it’s not Robert.”

Chicken goes down the wrong way, and comes flying out across the table. “You’re gonna kill me, man.” Another cough. “It’s Ashley. You know, bright-blond, kinda slutty?”

I grunt. “What happened to Sarah?”

“Oh, she got married last year. Met some guy in Vegas. I told her not to, but she said he bought her some kind of leopard-printed dress that matched her ring…and well, she said her new man’s got style.”

“He rich?” asks Jane. Rafael gives her an odd look, like he forgot she was there, eating her PB&J.

“Yeah, where you been?”

“Any kids?” I ask.

“Twins. Cute, too, although you wouldn’t think it, cause her new husband, some kind of Antonio…he’s got a dog’s face, dude. Guess you can be ugly when you’re rich.”

“That’s not very nice,” says Jane.

For some reason, I immediately feel sorry for her. She gets up from the table and  slumps from the room.

“What’s her problem?” says Rafael.

I shrug. “Bad weekend, I guess. ” But my eyes are still on the open door of the break room.

I get up then without thought. “I’m going for a smoke.”

Rafael looks up at me, startled and then he looks down at his paper plate and realizes he’s already eaten his chicken and he’s spilled his rice all over the table.

“You’re such a slob, man.”

He laughs as he swipes rice into the trash. “Wait up, will you?”

But I pretend I don’t hear him as I walk purposely from the room. I can hear him calling to me from down the hallway.

“Oh! And there’s also my cousin Mary-Patrice…”

 

If I Were Han Solo…

/ Ajmorse / 5 Comments

Bahaha, the Star Wars nerd in me just had to share this!

Austin's avatarThe Return of the Modern Philosopher

HanIf I were Han Solo

I’d never go home

I’d fly ‘cross the stars

Make the Falcon my home

Han LeiaIf I were Han Solo

I’d never be single

I’d woo me a Princess

And get the ladies to mingle

Han medalIf I were Han Solo

My fears would be zero

I’d blow up the Death Star

And be everyone’s hero

Han pilotIf I were Han Solo

I’d be your best friend

I might be a scoundrel

But I’d be there in the end

Han trooperIf I were Han Solo

We’d always have fun

I’d teach you to fly

And be an ace with a gun

Han ChewieIf I were Han Solo

And your life got screwy

I’d show up guns blazing

And bring my boy Chewie

Han CrewThe Force would be with me

Wherever I’d land

If I were Han Solo

My life would be grand

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Some Non-Fiction: Today’s Observation, a Conversation at the Lunch Table

/ Ajmorse / 3 Comments

I’ve been listening to David Sedaris’ Let’s Explore Diabetes with Owls, at work for the last few days. His book is a collection of essays about his life and some short stories. For some reason, it inspired me to try a little bit of non-fiction writing. I do need to record more of what I do, and the conversations I have on a given basis. Mr. Sedaris apparently writes too much in his journal, or so he confesses.

Non-fiction isn’t always easy for me. I don’t know if writing about your life, and the people in it is easier for some – but for me, I have to hold onto the little bit of friends I have. So it is difficult for me to just let go. Being a writer is about writing truth…and I worry too much about what people think.

Anyway, the point is, I am trying to challenge myself to try something new. I do not write enough about my life, and that is a shame. As boring as it is, there’s got to be some gem amongst the stones, right? Right?  Ahaha. Here goes.

 A conversation at the lunch table.

“Someone stole my carrots!” I look down into my lunch bag at the lonely tub of hummus. It stares back at me blankly, smudgy, feeling like old cement.

“Well that’s just great!” I say as I shove my lunch away. “Now I have nothing to eat my hummas with.” The last part is said with a bit of a whine. If its one thing that pisses me off, it’s going hungry.

I look up to a stare from my fellow co-workers. The woman next to me gets an uncertain look. “Someone stole my soda once.”

“Seems unlikely,” says another woman, her hair is grey, long, down her back. “I mean, if it was a bag of chips…”

“At least you have pasta,” says another.  A young woman, who reads graphic novels and writes in a journal covered with cartoon characters. “I have this,” and she gestures towards a microwave pizza she bought in the vending machine. It’s one of those french bread kinds, that are usually better in an oven.

“How it is?” I ask, already a bit skeptical.

She shrugs. “It’s not as crunchy as I thought it would be.”

I respond with a thoughtful, “that’s too bad,” and make my way out of the break room. One thing I do like about my job: the people I work with. There are other things that leave much to be desired. A clean floor would be nice, for one.

“I suppose I could have left it on the counter…” I mumble a bit disappointed, turning the dial on my lock to shove my purse away in my locker. “But it sounded so much better being stolen. Other than me just being forgetful. You know, I was late to work this morning.”

The older woman with the long hair laughs. “And that’s your story and you’re sticking to it!”

“You’re darn right.”

I watch her head back up the stairs, back to work. Back to the monotony and a desk that smells like dust and sometimes burnt coffee. I’ll sometimes prop my folder up on my desk, to keep the computer from blowing hot air on my face. For some reason, this gives me a weird sense of victory. I suppose there is pleasure in the little things in life. Like I’ve beat the system. Like who cares if the computer may over-heat, at least my face is cool.

Back to work…back to work…

When I get home, I am hungry and tired, and I find a bag of carrot sticks sitting propped up against the microwave. I wave a fruit fly away.

“Think they’re still good?” I mutter, as I inspect the orange skin, that now looks dried and crackley, like they’ve been in the desert doing some serious time and not lounging serenely on my counter all day in an empty apartment.

My boyfriend gives a deep chuckle from the next room. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

I scrunch up my nose and laugh as I put them in the refrigerator, feeling suddenly like a little kid and then shaking my head at the absurdity of it all. How silly I was to think people would actually steal healthy food. Crunching carrots on the sly, isn’t exactly inconspicuous.

Unless there’s some kind of crazed vegetarian out there, just ready to go postal.

I’m starting to think I should be on the look out for Bug’s Bunny. I’ve tried the “What’s up, dock?” thing to Michael while munching on a carrot before. He doesn’t find it attractive.

Ah, next time I suppose.

 

Game of Thrones Season 5 finale: Review and Thoughts

/ Ajmorse / 2 Comments

I’ve been terrible keeping up with my Game of Thrones reviews this season. The truth is I don’t really have time to go into in-depth reviews unless I’m getting paid for it — and as priorities go — writing fiction and other such nonsense really does take center stage. But. BUT. I feel like it would be awful of me, disrespectful even, not to give my two cents on last night’s finale. So here goes… (Also, I’ve now read the books. So, some book information might be hinted at here. But no book spoilers.)

Arya-Goes-Blind-in-Game-of-Thrones-Season-5-FinaleNote*** Spoilers a head!

A quick recap:

Pretty much all of the story lines that we’ve loved and adored have ended in cliff-hangers. (Well, with the exception of Stannis who I could, quite frankly, do without!)

***In Dorne, Jaime has finally recovered his “niece” and they are on their way home. After a heartfelt scene, where Myrcella tells Jaime that she’s known all along that he was her father, she starts bleeding from her nose. Lady Ellaria had given her a kiss goodbye, but her lips were smeared with poison. We don’t know that the young princess is dead, but it is certainly assumed that Dorne finally has their revenge for Oberyn’s death.

In Meereen, Tyrion, Jorah, and Daario all sit around the throne room trying to decide what to do now that their Khaleesi is probably wandering around the countryside some where. They decide that Tyrion will stay and try to rule Meereen with the help of Missandei and Grey Worm, while Jorah and Daario go off in search of Dany. Oh, and Varys shows up to help Tyrion.

imagesMeanwhile, Dany is indeed stuck in the middle of no where with her black dragon, Drogon, who doesn’t want to go anywhere he doesn’t want to. Getting desperate, Dany takes off on her own, but she is discovered by a Dothraki horde who immediately surround her.

Meanwhile, caught in the hell hole he’s now found himself in, (kharma’s a bitch, eh Stannis?) “The one true King” did not find favor with the Lord of Light by sacrificing his daughter. (The sweetest character in the show so far!)  His wife has committed suicide, half of his men have deserted and the red woman has abandoned him. On their march to Winterfell, the Boltons meet them halfway and it is a massacre.

got510_111414_hs_dsc_42601Wounded and alone in the woods, Stannis is discovered by Brienne of Tarth, who believes it is her duty to avenge the death of Renly Baratheon. The scene ends with Brienne swinging her sword, and we are left to assume that this is the end of Stannis. (This is not something that is confirmed in the books, but I say: good riddance!)

Arya steals a face from the hall of many faces, so she can cross another name off her list. Disguised as some random girl, she attacks Meryn Trant gruesomely; gouges out his eyes and stabs him repeatedly, and slits his throat. She reminds him that she is Arya Stark and that his death is for Syrio Forel, her sword-fighting instructor.

Naturally, she gets punished because the many faced god did not ask for this life, and Arya is not the no one she claims to be. Jaqen H’ghar, takes Arya’s eyesight.

Alfie-Allen-and-Sophie-Turner-in-Game-of-Thrones-Season-5-FinaleOn a more positive note, Sansa decides to take her life into her own hands while the Boltons are away in battle. She lights a candle in the tower that Brienne tells her to, but she is confronted by Myranda, Ramsay’s mistress.

FINALLY, Theon finds some redemption as he stops Myranda from harming Sansa. Theon and Sansa grab hands and race to the wall, where they jump into the snow and to freedom.

Meanwhile, Cersei has finally decided to confess. She admits to sexual relations with her cousin, but nothing else. The high sparrow says that she can return to the red keep…after her atonement. Cersei walks naked through the street; through shit and blood and who knows what else. We’ve seen her remain strong, but near the end of her long walk, filthy and bloody, she finally breaks down.

GoT-S5E10-CerseiQyburn is there to comfort her at the red keep and presents her with her new, mysterious champion, (who we can assume is the Mountain in zombie form.) He swoops her into his arms, and Cersei’s tears disappear.

But, it wouldn’t be a finale on Game of Thrones without some kind of tragic death.

images7We learn in earlier scenes that Sam desires to be a maester to be helpful to Jon and to keep Gilly safe. He and Gilly leave for Old Town. Tricked into thinking that his uncle Benjen has returned, Jon is cornered by men from the night’s watch who think he is a traitor because of the alliance that he has formed with the Wildings. They stab him repeatedly, but the most heartbreaking is from the young Olly, who delivers the finally blow.

The finale ends with Jon’s sightless gaze, and his dark, red blood seeping into the white, white snow.

My Thoughts?

Not Jon Snow! He is one of my favorite characters, and I choose to remain hopeful. It doesn’t make sense to me to end Jon’s storyline at the wall, and it is my opinion that the red woman, will bring Jon back to life. If not…well…I can’t see the sense of his death. As he is a great character.

Anyone have a Julius Ceasar moment while watching Jon’s death. Et tu Brute?

We’ve seen Cersei at her worst, and although you feel like you should feel sorry for her, you still remember she has done terrible things. Wonder what Jamie ever saw in her?

I was very pleased with Stannis’ death, as I never really was a great fan of him in the first place. And after the last episode, with his daughter’s death…I think it is much deserved, to be honest. I also can’t wait until Ramsey Bolton gets what is coming to him!

I think there is a lot that we can’t take for granted here, though; readers of the books know that just because you are dead in Game of Thrones, doesn’t mean you can’t rise again.

Oh! Well, lets hope the red woman get’s to Jon’s body before they decide to burn him…

Any thoughts on last nights finale?

 

Poem: “For Grandma”

/ Ajmorse / 5 Comments

My family and I lost someone very special to us this month; my grandma of 88 years, passed away Friday, May 8th. While words don’t really do her justice – (I’ve never had this problem before!) It certainly doesn’t hurt to try.

So, I wrote a poem to honor her, which I read at her memorial service. Afterwards, everyone came up and told me how great it was, how “perfect” it was and fitting for her. But inside I felt empty. A part of me was pleased that everyone liked it, but I didn’t feel like I deserved it; it wasn’t good enough, it didn’t feel complete. But I think it was because, in this case, words can never really express how someone was in life, how much they mean to you, how much you ache and feel sorrow because they are gone.

I think there comes a time (even for a writer) when words just aren’t enough. No matter how much you try. Regardless, my grandma was a beautiful woman inside and out…and I did it to honor her.

grandma rose

(Or if you click on my beautiful picture you can see a larger image and read the poem there.)

It reads:

The woman who loved the color purple

had laughter on her lips

 

and everywhere she walked and talked

there was a purpose to her quips

 

She was always there to lend an ear

no judgement in her mind

 

She was always there for everyone

hard-working, mischievous and kind

 

The woman who loved to laugh and camp

had compassion in her eyes

 

She didn’t have to do everything

but by golly, she did try!

 

She was a woman of many names

and as busy as can be

 

But no matter what you called her

she was always “Grandma” to me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Something Told the Wild Geese -YOUR FAVOURITE POEM

/ Ajmorse / Leave a comment

Ah, something to share with you guys tonight. I really like this one! 🙂

poetreecreations's avatarpoetreecreations.wordpress.com

GOO

Something told the wild geese
It was time to go,
Though the fields lay golden
Something whispered, “snow.”

Leaves were green and stirring,
Berries, luster-glossed,
But beneath warm feathers
Something cautioned, “frost.”

All the sagging orchards
Steamed with amber spice,
But each wild breast stiffened
At remembered ice.

Something told the wild geese
It was time to fly,
Summer sun was on their wings,
Winter in their cry.

by
Rachel Field

YOUR FAVOURITE POEM SENT IN BY YOU

WHAT’S YOUR’S ?

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An English Major’s Struggle To Find a Job

/ Ajmorse / 2 Comments

I recently took a new job here, (go figure, right?)…something that has me typing information at a desk, not customer service, not worrying about sales pitch – did I get it right? Just plain old monotonous information, and type-type typing away.typing-clipart-16-COLOR

And while this job was described to me as incredibly boring, I can’t but help be somewhat relieved. Left to my own thoughts, my own devices, I am more productive, less stressed and overall satisfied. Plus, I don’t have to talk to anyone if I don’t want to. Is it sad how much this is a relief to me?

Ever since college I have been struggling finding my way or niche in this world…I watch friends of mine, graduates from the same college get jobs at corporations, in the classroom, or go on to pursue higher education at graduate school.

I am proud of them and their accomplishments, but where does that leave me? Taking a job in retail, in customer service, in collections…finding places that pay the big bucks with little need to think or grow? I don’t live in an area that offers an overwhelming amount of options, either. I feel like I have ruined my job experience…even the manager that recently interviewed me said he was worried about hiring me…”Your job history seems a little…scattered,” he said.

“Oh, I know,” I said, and then shrugged. What could I say?

“I missed the boat when it came to moving to Florida?”

“I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up?”

Life is difficult and not always forgiving when it comes to pursuing your dreams and passions. I got an English degree, so everyone assumed that I wanted to be a teacher. I worked in customer service, so everyone assumed that I’m great on the phone, and love to help others. (I am great on the phone by the way. Former debt collector here, watch out!)

But what to do…what to do, when all of the world seems to be telling me that I am a failure? I took the jobs…because I needed the money. Not everyone has a savings or rich relatives. (Oh, but wouldn’t that be nice!)notebook in candlelightSince I was a young teen, the one thing that I consider myself great at is writing. This led to the thought: “I’ll be a writer.” Yet, with the pressure on to pay the bills…is such a desire a pipe dream? Or should I really just bite the bullet and go back to college…even though I don’t know what I want to study?

The questions are endless and the emotions boarding on that feeling of overwhelming sadness. I think the real answer to these questions are:

Do what makes you happy and don’t worry what everyone else thinks.

My head is grasping for the words of advice I’ve heard many times: “Don’t give up, you’ll get there.”

“Believe in yourself.”

“Never stop writing.”

“Don’t lose faith in yourself.”

Yet, they seem to be falling on deaf ears this afternoon, or falling in the cracks of heater and getting lodged there, (God knows little heat is getting out!).

doryThe sun is peaking out of the clouds now, and the snow has finally stopped. For some reason Dory’s voice from Finding Nemo has snuck its way into my head:

“Just keep swimming…just keep swimming…What do we do? We swim!”

Hmm…I am a terrible swimmer, but I can keep going, no matter how difficult it is…

The truth of the matter is, I am not unhappy here, sitting at my desk in the sunshine, which is creeping through to land on the floor and the cheery, yellow walls of my office.

I can keep on swimming, and I can begin to stop listening to what others think…because only my opinion matters in this instance. Being a writer is my pipe dream, and that’s all that matters.

I can keep on swimming no matter the cost.