Ephram delMoniq

Gunnar Has Two Daddies

2011-07-07T21:43:00.002-04:00

Okay. So. Um. I think that I want to have a kid. It is crazy. I should NOT have a child. I know this. I am a pretty decent uncle, but I would be a very crappy parent. So, I know that the best thing for a child of mine would be not to be born. But now, I get to live with another regret... well, later in life, I suppose ...to regret never having children of my own.

Just one thing, and then I will shut the shit up. I know I would be a horrible parent, because I dont want a child. I want a son. A baby girl would just piss me off, and I would be disappointed that she was not a boy. Why do that to a baby? No. I want a son.

I have named him. My son is Gunnar Dade Murphy. But he will never exist.

Brain Vomit

2010-09-13T20:35:00.002-04:00

I dont know if anyone aside from me reads this crap or even what I am planning on saying tonight. But I was just feeling the need to purge some shit out of my mind. Although, purge may not be the correct word, because I know from experience that while writing things out does not necessarily remove things from my head.

The human brain is a marvelous thing. Or is it? Tonight, I kinda feel like my brain is my prison. Although, again, I dont know if trapped is... okay maybe it is. I feel trapped. Caged in this prison of my own making, and I dont really know how to get out. Well, maybe I do? But for some reason I have no desire to actually get out of it. Ideally, I think I want to be rescued. I want (I think the word need, but I dont need it; I want it) someone to come along, find me when I am not even looking to be found, and break me out of myself and my prison. Logically, I find this completely unreasonable... and rather pathetic.

How is someone going to find me if I am not looking to be found? That is the conundrum. But then again, I am full of shit like that. I am a collection of paradoxes. I feel old, yet I dress and behave like a teenager. I dont know. I am thirty-four-fucking-years-old, and I still go to bed every night spooning with a giant stuffed whale named Shamus the Bedtime Whale. I insist that I dont like children, but I love spending time with my best friends kid and I often daydream about having a child of my own.

Of course, I will NEVER have children of my own. Seriously? I can barely take care of myself. And undoubtedly, the kid would end up with a ridiculous name like Fyrgh or Nitro, or September. Years of therapy there. Not to mention that the whole idea of raising a child terrifies the ever-loving shit from my uptight asshole. Being raised by me would be more of a punishment for the kid than anything else. So, I will be content with visiting Mr. Ben for a week or so a couple of times a year. Enough to have fun, but not enough to damage the child.

It does kind of make me a little sad for my parents. I dont know if they have any desire for grandchildren; although, they do refer to my cats as their grandchildren.

Okay, okay, okay. Enough about children.

I have been thinking a little bit every now and then. Nothing really serious or anything, but the thought does pop into my head every so often. About doing the whole therapy thing again. I know that I wont ever do it again, because the last time was so horrible and so not worth the time, the effort, or the money. But sometimes I think about it. Mostly, I wonder what it would have been like if I didnt have a shitty therapist. Would I be a happier more stable person today, if I had a therapist that was interested in more than just money? Or would I still be a giant ugly pile of suck?

That, of course, is typical me. What if...? My whole life is what if. What if I had never said anything? What if the response had been different? What if is killing me.

I saw someone the other day. I had no idea who this guy was. But I was taking a break with a smoke at work, and I saw this guy across the street. And it just hit me like a punch in the face. What the fuck is wrong with me? How the hell is this still bothering me YEARS later? Fuck, it has been FOUR FUCKING YEARS! Can I punch myself in the face for that? I have been stuck here four times longer than I even knew the guy! How asinine is that? Seriously?

But there it was... What if? And I miss him. I miss how I was when I was with him. I miss the fun we had. I miss how he made me feel like I could do anything. I felt awesome. I have never known someone who made me feel like that before. It felt like he was so genuine with me. I dont know if it really was or if I am romanticizing it through the haze of my memory. But there it is.

Anyway, that is one of my biggest regrets. I ruined it. I took one of the best things to happen to me, and I shit on it.

Moving on. Enough about that. Well, not really. I used to be so angry about the whole thing. I was so angry with him. In actuality, it was all my fault. Yeah, I was angry at myself; I still am. But I took all my shit out on him, and that wasnt fair.

Okay, brain STFU!

There has been some upheaval in my work life the past few months. It is all kind of a moot point now. Basically, I changed my mind about my career path and made plans and applied for a job and told my boss that I was leaving, and then I changed my mind back. So, really, I just stressed myself out for three months only to end up right back where I was before it started. I am I gigantic idiot.

But that is my life. My life now is work. I work 7 days per week, 8-11 hours/day. It is exhausting, but that is all I have right now. And I suspect that it is all I will ever have.

Anyway, I kinda decided that I need a life goal. I have plenty of work goals right now. I need to work on my life. HA! I was thinking today, that I just need to accept that this is my life. I made it this way, so I have to accept it. Because lord knows that I am not going to do anything to change it. I think that if I can accept that I am going to be alone with my cats and my work and that is it that I can be happy with things. So, we will see how that goes.

And, I am going to quit smoking. That is my plan. I really cant afford $9/pack any more. I need to have money saved up for when I get my job in 2012 and need to move. Lord knows I am NOT staying in this shitty state. Ideally, I will live somewhere where there is no snow that is within a days drive of at least one of my friends. Shoudnt be too difficult, right?

And with that note, I am going out for a smoke and then I am heading to bed.

Mentally & Emotionally Drained

2010-06-15T21:15:00.002-04:00

My life has been in a bit of turmoil of late. I dont know I didnt write about this before, aside from being lazy, I guess that there is really no good reason.

A few weeks ago, a friend and I drove up to Maine and met up with a couple other friends of ours and attended the wedding of another couple of friends. It was great, because I had not seen J & L in several months (since our boss fired J and they up and moved 1/2 way across the country). Anyway, over the few days that we were there, J and I talked about how things are where I work and how much I absolutely hate it. He off hand mentioned that people at his new job (that he loves) might be looking for someone. Not really thinking that anything would come of it, I asked him to ask around.

Back in hell (also known as my work) a few days later, I got an email from J saying that I should send him my CV, because someone was interested. Later that week, I was at the airport going off on an impromptu vacation to see my sister and #5 (who was interviewing for a job that is approximately 30 minutes from my sister). Anyway, J called me saying that this person at his new job was really excited and interested in hiring me! Throughout my traveling day, J and I kept calling and texting back and forth about things. And I actually got myself excited about the prospect of leaving this hellhole where I am now and starting over at a new place near friends in a more permanent type of job.

I got so excited in fact that upon meeting with my boss on my first day back from vacation, I told her that I was looking for jobs and that I was ready to leave.

Anyway, I can tell that this is getting to be long. So I am going to convert to bullet points...

-- My landlord is being a dick. I have to sign a 3-month lease for the summer, but I cant seem to get anyone to set anything up.
-- I had a phone interview with the woman that was interested in hiring me. I am unsure of how this went, but after talking with her, I am really scared that she is going to turn out to be like my asshole boss from a few years back and at the same time I am scared that I will disappoint her if she does hire me.

And now, tonight after a nice dinner with a friend that included watching the new episode of True Blood, I really really find myself wishing that I had a certain someone with whom to talk all this through. In the past, he and I would have long talks and he always had a way of making me feel good about myself and making me feel like I could do anything. He made me feel like I was utterly awesome, and I believed him so much. I literally felt like I could do anything that I set my mind to. He made me feel loved and wanted, and I really really miss that feeling so much. I have never had such an intense connection with another person in my life before or since. It was like we were meant to be best friends forever and that we had already been best friends forever. He just made me feel so perfect just the way that I was. And I felt powerful because of him.

Unfortunately, I ruined things with him by taking things too far. Things were done, things were said, and bridges were burned. That was more than five years ago, and I have never felt more like I needed him than I do tonight. I feel like part of me is missing and that I killed that part of myself. I really regret that, probably more than anything else that I have ever done or not done.

**sigh** I should stop writing before I want to kill myself even more than I already want to.

Hell of a Day

2010-05-16T20:27:00.004-04:00

Yes. It has been over a month again since I last posted anything. I have thought about things to post, but for some reason or another, I have decided against it. But today. Today has just been a crazy day. So, it needs some reflection. To that end, I am laying in bed with the cats, my laptop, and depressing music pumping through my iTunes.

Sidenote: Why is it that when I am depressed I listen to depressing music? I know that there is better, happier music in my collection that would pull me up out of my mood, but instead, I end up listening to music that makes me want to curl up in a ball under my blanket and cry. Why the hell is that? Do other people do this?

Anyway... I hate my job. I really hate it. I hate most of the people that I work with. My boss irritates the crap out of me. I used to love my job. I still kinda like the work that I am doing. But hating where you live, hating the people at your job, and not really liking your boss make it really difficult to enjoy the work that you are doing. So, I went in to work today intending to just do a couple little things and stay for a couple hours and then go home. But I a greeted by this email from the boss...

It has come to my understanding that there is an inappropriate image on a lab computer that shows the genitals of a lion. I have no idea how it got there, but it is entirely inappropriate. This is in violation of the sexual harassment rules at ******* University. Should this occur again, I will work with ITS to find out who put this image there and that person will be charged with sexual harassment. If found guilty, that person will be dismissed from ******** immediately.

Well, turns out, I am the one that put that picture there. The full story is this. I was talking to someone who sits near the common computer, and I was looking up something on that computer instead of going back to my desk. And the background on that computer is a picture of the boss's daughter; it has been this forever, since the computer used to be hers. Anyway, I decided that we needed a change, and I browsed through the pictures that were on that computer. And yes, there was a picture of a very well hung male lion. It cracked me up, because it appeared to me (by the rest of the pictures in that folder) that the boss had taken pictures at a trip to the zoo with her daughter. Anyway, I thought it was funny, and put it as the background merely to show someone else. Well, I logged out and didn't pick another picture. And then I must have forgotten about it. But seriously, it was probably only there for a day or so.

Anyway, I got a wave of terror that I was going to be fired because of this. Mostly, because I am pretty sure that just about everyone in lab knows that it was me that put the picture there. Then, as I was setting stuff up, I realized that if it weren't for the fact that I don't have any money to move or any job prospects, getting fired wouldn't be so bad. Getting fired because of a ″sexually harassing″ picture of a lion is pretty ridiculous, but it would not be the end of the world, because I hate my job.

So, I spent a lot of the morning debating if I should tell the boss that it was me that put the picture there. But rereading her email, I figured that I shouldn't. What would be the point? She probably already knows it is me, and it seems to me that her intent with the email is ensure that no other inappropriate pictures are around in the lab. And that it would be the NEXT time a picture appears that someone would be fired. So, I decided against it, because logically, how am I going to get a job if I get fired for sexual harassment? Anyway, I am still kinda worried that I could get fired for this, but since I won't put any more pictures anywhere... Anyway...

The bottom line is that no matter how much I hate my job, I need my job. I need to build up my savings so that I can get the hell out of here when it is time (probably 2012). So, I decided that I need to take steps to keep my sanity at work so that I won't go crazy and put more pictures of lions' balls around the lab. So, I decided that the best way to accomplish this is to minimize the time that I am in the lab with other people. The downside is that I really do like a handful of my coworkers, so I would see them less. But I think that is a small price to pay for my sanity, and the joy of not seeing a lot of other people.

This shouldn't be too hard to do, because most people (the horrible ones anyway) only work about 930am to 430pm. Some don't come in until almost noon most days. So, the plan is to work full days on the weekends, come to lab as early in the morning as I can stand, and leave lab when I am done doing what I need to do for that day. No dawdling around. This will, of course, necessitate that I get over the whole not doing radioactive work alone in lab. I have talked to the boss about this before. Really I complained that people that are prone to contaminate things were doing radioactive work alone on the weekends, and her response to me was that I should just let them do it and they will have to deal with the consequences. So, I am taking that to heart for myself. Plus, I am being hyper-vigilant and extra-careful with things, so as not to make a mess.

So, today, I did a full experiment and ran a full set of gels and worked from 945am to 6pm, and I am not going to work tomorrow. Of course, I will have to be sure to be around to not miss meetings and such. So this will take some planning, but I confident that it can be done. And as long as I am being productive and not causing problems, the boss can't really complain? Plus, I do plan to work from home tomorrow on data analysis and start writing a paper.

Okay, that said, here is a new topic with absolutely no segue whatsoever.

A few days ago, one of my best friends in the whole world told me that she had a job interview close to where my sister lives and that I should fly out to see them both at the same time for a weekend. I decided to do it. I need a break from here, and it will be awesome to see them both. I had not 100% decided to do it until this afternoon, but I was leaning towards it; although, it is more money that I would like to spend on flights.

So, I get home, and start chatting with my friend and called my sister so we could coordinate things. I got the trip all planned and tickets purchased. And then my sister tells me that she is at her mom's place for her cousin's graduation. And we start talking and she says that after today she could really use some time with me, so she is glad that I am coming for this impromptu visit. I ask her what's up. And then she proceeds to tell me that our brother tried to kill himself last night!

WTF? She said that he got really, really, ridiculously drunk and tried to kill himself. She didn't really have a lot of information beyond that. But he is alive and in the hospital. He got some stitches, but his mind is all kinds of messed up she said. No one knows what triggered this. And she said that he feels really bad about it all and he feels really fucking stupid (her words). She and her mom are debating about going to see him, but he said that he did not want them to come.

All the while during this conversation, I keep thinking in the back of my mind that it would be really shitty to kill myself now. I know, it is horrible. I know that I should not kill myself. But really, most days it seems like that is the only way out of this hell that is my life. And honestly, if I weren't such a goddamn chicken, I probably would have offed myself years ago. But whatever. Mostly, I think that I am killing myself slowly with my apathy towards caring for myself.

Anyway, that was today. So, I am not going to work tomorrow.

Oh. By the way, I completely cleaned up my work space and my desk at work today. I used to have all kinds of toys and cartoons and such posted all around my desk, and my area was generally pretty much a huge mess. But I decided that I need to be more professional, so I packed it all up and brought it home. I think that the next time that I drive to work (I usually take the bus) that I will bring home the speakers that I have at my desk. I don't need them there any more.

On my way home today, I stopped at Target and splurged on The Tudors Season 3 DVDs. It totally violates my 3 cents/minute rule for TV shows on DVD, but I needed a little pick-me-up.

Okay, I am going to sign this off now and spend the rest of the night in bed being depressed and trying not to think about killing myself.

I had a dream

2010-04-06T07:49:00.002-04:00

Last night, I had a disturbing dream. Unfortunately, I dont remember very much of it now, even though it was probably only about 3 hours ago. All I can remember is that someone (one of my friends) had stolen my phone and changed the wallpaper photo on it. The photo was of a guy I used to know, MB. Hmm. Anyway, I was all sorts of pissed off in the dream, because my friend should have known not to do that to me based on my history with this guy. But he thought it would be funny. It was not.

Anyway, in the dream, this brought all the old emotional crap to the surface again. And this morning, it has had the wonderful effect of giving me the creeps. I am hoping that by losing myself in music, throwing myself into my work, and drowning myself in coffee that I can get this feeling to go away.

But seriously, it has been almost 4 years. I really wish my brain would stop churning its waters bringing all my old crap to the surface.

Oh my horrible brain.

2010-04-05T21:44:00.002-04:00

It really has been a depressing week lately. There really is no rhyme or reason for my mood. I am pretty much over the whole dissolution of the carpooling thing. She rode her bike to work again today, anyway. I figure that now that the weather is nice out again that she will be doing that a lot -- probably every day.

I have been thinking a lot lately about taking care of myself. Just about every night when I go to bed, I think to myself that I really need someone to be here and take care of me. Honestly, I dont NEED someone to take care of me, but I do WANT that. I want it so much. But seriously, I am 33 years old (nearly 34). I am a grown up (whether I like it or not), and I can take care of myself. And I should be taking care of myself.

I have very little desire to take care of myself, and I do a really shitty job of it, because of that. But I get myself to work every day. I keep the cats fed and loved and cared for. I make sure that I shower every day. That may just be the entire extent of what I do for myself. I know that I should take better care of myself. I should quit smoking for reals. I should eat better; hell, I should eat period. I should go to the dentist and get my teeth taken care of. I should exercise. I was going to say exercise more, but seeing as how the only exercise I get is walking to and from the bus stop that shouldnt count.

But you see the problem is this. I know what I should be doing. I know HOW to do these things. I just dont WANT to do them. I have a horrible why bother attitude about the whole thing. I put on a show for people at work. If anyone knew how I actually lived my life... well, I doubt that most people would care. But those who did would be appalled. There is no food in my fridge. I have not been to the grocery store since February. When people at work hear this (most people know of my grocery store phobia), they assume that I eat out a lot. I let them.

The truth is, I rarely eat at home. I didnt go to work on Sunday. I was home all day. What did I eat? Six Toaster Strudels (3 in the morning and 3 in the afternoon). Four popcicles (afternoon snack). And a small bit of Thai noodles leftover from Fridays lunch from work for dinner.

I know better. But I just cant make myself BE better. Granted, most nights, I forget about eating, or I just dont think of it altogether. A lot of the time, I just dont get hungry. Other times, I just put it out of my head. Because I know, if I eat something and succumb to the hunger, it will only make me more hungry and I will have to eat more. Eating more is more difficult to avoid. So, I just avoid starting to eat.

Okay, this sounds horrible. And not at all where I thought this post was going when I started it. But there it is. My horrible secret is out. LOL. Just add food issues to the list of things that are wrong with me.

And here I thought this was going to end up being about the boy I met at the conference I was at at the end of March. HA!

**sigh**

I really need to get out of this god-forsaken state.

PS... I have discovered a new song (not a new song, but new to me). It was featured in the episode of Chuck that I just watched on Hulu. Astair by Matt Costa.

Now I have to debate with myself about whether I should go to bed or stay up and watch more Chuck. Or if I should pull my conference notes out of my bag and unload a whole big ol bag of crazy on the blog. Hmmm.

Still learning about people

2010-04-02T23:44:00.002-04:00

I think that I have no idea about people in general. Scratch that. I know that I know nothing about people and about how to interact with them. I think that is why, for the most part, I will sit back, listen, and observe when I am confronted with a new person. It is really awkward.

Today, I learned a valuable lesson (again). Do not assume that another person thinks of you in the same way that you think of him or her. For the most part, someone can figure out a general idea about what someone else thinks of him or her through interacting with that person. I end up falling for my usual trap of reading way too much into things, which always comes up at some point or another to bite me in the ass.

Anyway, a bit of background into what I am getting at here. I used to carpool to work with a friend of mine and his wife. A couple months ago, they moved away, and I was forced to find another way to get to work. Not a big deal. I could drive and pay to park. But I discovered that I could take the bus to work from my place relatively easily. I did this several times in the snowy times this winter, and I would get a ride home from another coworker who lives near to my place.

So, once my friends moved, I talked to this other coworker, and I asked her that if I took the bus in the morning all the time if I could get a ride home with her. She said that I could except if it was nice out and she happened to ride her bike to work. Sure, no problem for me. I can take the bus home on those days. No worries.

Anyway, today was a relatively low-key day at work. And a lot of my hard core work was done earlier than I had plan (mostly because my long/difficult experiment I had planned to do fell through). So, I was done with all my stuff around 4 or 430pm. Usually, my coworker and I would leave whenever her boyfriend (who works across campus, lives with her, and carpools as well) was done working (or rather, once both of them were done); this usually involves us leaving between 545 and 630. So, once I was done with my labwork, I sat at my desk and worked on computer stuff and farted around on the internet, basically trying to figure out some things with my project and killing time until they were ready to head home.

So, around 620 or so, she starts packing up her stuff (a little odd, since usually, she will give me a 10/15 minute warning). I start packing my shit up too to get ready to go. And she turns to me and says that she rode her bike today.

Seriously? You couldnt have told me that earlier in the day? If I knew that I was going to be taking the bus home, I would have left two hours earlier! In the grand scheme of things, it is not a big deal. But where is the common courtesy? I ride home with them every day. Today was the first day that she has ridden her bike to work since it got warmer out. Was I supposed to read her mind and know that there was no ride home? Anyway, I was pissed off, so I just took my bottle of water to the kitchen to put it in the fridge so I could cool off and give her time to get out of there so I could be angry.

Now, hours later, I am not all that angry. But this did make me think. I thought we were friends. And I think that I was thinking things between us were more than friendly coworkers, but I think that I was wrong. But I may be wrong about this realization as well.

Anyway.....

In other news, I have been meaning to post a LOT of things to get them out of my head. But, honestly, the activation energy for me to do so has just been too great. I have been having the most horrible time this week regrouping from my conference trip last week. I am jet lagged, I guess. And this has just exacerbated my sleeping issues. I am exhausted all the time, which does not really make for me being productive.

So that is where things stand. Pretty much status quo here. Hating my life, but too lazy/apathetic to actually do anything about it. I am miserable and stuck.

Bored to Death

2010-03-19T17:10:00.002-04:00

I have some free time here at work this afternoon, and I figured that I would blurb a little bit. I am also having ADD (or maybe just sugar overload) really bad, so I have having trouble concentrating and sitting still.

Oh nevermind. What I keep thinking about posting is a bit much for work time. I am running errands tonight once I get home from work, and after that, I hope to be able to focus enough to barf these thoughts out of my brain through my fingers.

Two Realizations

2010-02-13T19:31:00.002-05:00

(1) I want someone to take care of me. I want someone to come home to me or me come home to him, and I want a hug. I want to be held and feel safe. I want to be loved. But mostly, I want someone in my life besides me.

(2) I am afraid to have sex again. It has been nearly 2.5 years (YEARS) since I have had any intimate contact with anyone. No kissing, no touching, no sex, no nothing. Yes, that was by choice. But now, it is out of fear. I know that if I really wanted to have sex, I could. That is what the internet is for. But I dont. Because I do not trust myself. I know that I will fall in love with the next guy that I have sex with. It wont be real love (it never is), but I will feel it. And it will tear me up, because the guy will be in it only for the sex. So, I avoid it. Or rather, I dont seek it out. It is not like guys are pounding down my door to fuck me.

Anyway, these are just thoughts I had when I was out on the balcony just now sucking down more cancer.

Hmm.

Today

2010-02-13T18:22:00.002-05:00

It is days like today that I have full remembrance that I am depressed. That whole "why bother" attitude was out in full force. Honestly, I think that I would be content to simply lay in a ball on the couch watching TV all day, every day.

I know that I will get shit for not going to work today. I feel bad that I did not go to work, but I just could not make myself go. I absolutely do not want to be here any longer. I dont want to be living in this apartment. I dont want to be in Connecicut. I dont want my job. I need my job. I have no money, and I live paycheck to paycheck. Which, by the way, is entirely way too stressful.

The world scares the crap out of me, and I am uncomfortable in my own skin. So, I am stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Blah blah blah.

Ideally... Well, honestly, I would go back in time and make different choices years ago. But from this point now in the present... assuming, of course that I had the money. I would quit my job and move to a place that I like better and get a new job there. Maybe not in that exact order. But that is what I really want. I have no money, so in order to make this happen, I have to work where I am now until there is enough money in savings (LOL) to afford to get a new job.

I dont really like most of my coworkers. Some I down right hate. Some I would call friends. But being at work does not make me happy. I dont enjoy it.

Anyway, I have been watching Ally McBeal DVDs all day instead of going to work. Losing myself in television is really the only way not to get lost in myself and my depression. It is my escape.

Okay, you know, every post on here is the same. I whine about my shitty life and how I wont do anything about it. So, I am just going to shut the fuck up and regress back into fantasy land for the night until it is time to wake up and argue with myself about going to work again.

**sigh** vicious cycle.

Him...

2010-02-09T23:18:00.002-05:00

Yet another horrible day today. **sigh** These days all the days seem horrible to me. I suppose that it is just really a side effect of the depression and not that the days are really horrible, just that I perceive them as horrible.

Tomato. Tomato.

Yesterday was horrible too. There really isnt anything that really shows itself as a cause. If I were a normal person, it would have just been a regular day. I did a stupid mistake at work, which did not really mess up anything; it just added an extra hour or so of work. I didnt even have to stay late or anything.

I guess that I just read too much into people and their moods. Of course, I see everything as if it relates to me. Of course the girl that sits next to me at work is crabby because I must have done something to piss her off. And then I spend the rest of the day (or next few days) trying to figure out what I could have done. Sometimes, it has nothing to do with me at all; other times, it does.

Of course, today, I am convinced that she is pissed off at me. I am probably right. The evidence suggests so. But whatever. I should not really be so focused on what other people think of me, and I should be more focused on getting done what I need to get done. That is what I tell myself. And that is why I mostly spend the day with my iPod on tuning out the world. And of course, everyone else sees me as cranky or bitchy or angry or whatever. The music is saving me and them from the real me.

Anyway, yesterday, I was finished with what I wanted to get done at work early, so I left at 4pm. So what? Today, I was done around 2pm, and I was just getting more and more pissed off. Partly, I was just in a foul mood most of the day. Partly, I hate a lot of the people at work. I probably could have come up with some more things to do to fill out my afternoon, but why bother? I texted my friend that is moving away in less than two weeks, and he came and picked me up and we went shopping. I just had to get the fuck out of there.

So, we are driving out of my work area, and I look up while stopped at a red light. And you know who is crossing the street right in front of my mother fucking car? Mother fucking Oron! What the fuck? It was all I could do to stop myself from running him down with my car.

So the nice spontaneous shopping trip was tainted by seeing Oron and over-analyzing the whole 10 second thing in the back of my mind the whole time. What was he doing there? Why was he at my work? Was he there to see me? Did he see me in my car? Did he think that my friend was my boyfriend? Why wasnt he at work at 230pm on a Tuesday? Why did I have to leave at that exact moment? Five minutes earlier or five minutes later, I would have missed him. Did I walk by him on the sidewalk on the way to the car without even realizing it?

All this is then followed by the anger. Anger at him for being a shitty human being. Anger at me for being with him for a year. And then, of course, anger at myself for still being angry. Think about it. I was seeing him from February 2006 to January 2007. IT HAS BEEN THREE FUCKING YEARS!!! What the hell is wrong with me? Why cant I just get over this?

If I take a step back and think of the whole situation rationally for a bit, Oron really is not that horrible of a person. Ninety percent of our relationship was all in my head. Sure, he played on that and strung me along for so long because he liked the sex, which was his own admission.

ENOUGH!

I am done. I can not drag myself through all this mental torture any more tonight. All that shit with Oron is over and has been over for a long time. Yes, I hate him. No, I probably should not. But with a few exceptions, I hate all the guys that I have been with in the past. Hell, I even hate guys that I had nothing with. But that is the joy of being me. I am full of hate an anger, and you just fucking have to deal with it.

Screaming in my head.

2010-02-08T12:58:00.001-05:00

Today is just one of those days. Work is ticking me off, and all I can think about is going home and going to bed. I really want to get the hell out of here. And I pretty much hate everyone today. But mostly, I hate myself. Because I know that I am giving off a huge attitude to everyone today, but I really cant help it. It is either retreat into my anti-social iPod world or beat the living shit out of everyone that crosses my path. Only one of those options will keep me from getting fired.

Rawr.

2010-01-28T15:19:00.003-05:00

Spontaneous mental brake down imminent.

I am thinking that I will just take the bus home from work any minute now and then take tomorrow and the weekend off in the interest of my sanity. I have no idea if this is a good idea or not. But whatever. I have become hyper-aware of myself and extraordinarily crabby this afternoon. I feel like I am on the edge of tears, and I have no idea what is up with that.

I think that it may just be good not to be in lab for a few days.

**sigh**

I hate myself for thinking that.

Memories

2010-01-26T21:57:00.003-05:00

I have been thinking off and on lately about memories. Not anything specific. Just about memory in general. Mostly the fact that I forget things ... a lot. The brain is a mysterious creature--mine especially. I guess what boggles me is that I can remember storylines, characters, plots everything from Days of Our Lives from when I started watching in 1996 and things that happened from before then about which I have read. But I forget things that happen in my real life very easily.

I have a tendency to ask people the same question multiple times, each time forgetting that I have asked before and that I know the answer. I forget telling people that I will do things for them. I forget things that I have done. One of my friends teases me and says that I must have blacked out.

I was flipping through old lab notebooks looking for a piece of data that I knew that I had, but I came across old experiments that I had done that I have no memory of doing. Some of them, I was planning to do this week, because I needed to get them done. Just today, I got an email from another friend with whom I had fallen out of touch reminding me that I had told him of the existence of this blog, because I had told him I was surprised when he emailed me yesterday out of the blue commenting about the blog.

Sure it is amusing at times. But other times, it is really frightening. What in my brain is misfiring that completely erases things? I have had times during my commute when I have absolutely no memory of driving, but I am in my car, so I must have driven. But my location and elapsed time in my mind do not jive with one another. But I must have driven my commute; I just have no memory of doing it.

Often times at work, I will think of something that I need to do or something I need to get from another room. I will get there, but have no idea what I was thinking I needed to do or needed to get. So, I go back to my desk and try to figure out what I was thinking. Sometimes I figure it out, but sometimes I dont.

Anyway, it is just one of the oddities of being, Ephram. I suppose.

Sometimes I joke about having a brain tumor. But part of me doesnt think that it is a joke, and I become really concerned: what if I really do have a brain tumor? Honestly, I think it may just be wishful thinking. It would be an easy fix. The tumor causes my mood swings and my depression. The tumor is why I get headaches and have issues remembering things. But really, it is probably my mental problems that are envisioning a tumor to avoid trying to actually fix things that are wrong with me. I cant help it; I have a tumor. Sure! Go lay in a ball on the couch and feel numb. That will solve all the problems.

So, yeah. That is todays thing. And so what? Yeah. Im out.

Dumping Ground

2010-01-23T20:06:00.002-05:00

So, for once, I log into here, and Blogger tells me that I have not posted a blog entry since September 23. Hmmm. Luckily, practically no one reads this.

Anyway, things have been busy for me. Yes, that is always my excuse. There are always excuses. Life gets in the way of doing what one wants to do. Whatever. I should punch myself in the face, but what good would that do? Basically, like most things that I start, this simply fell by the wayside as I got distracted with other things. I bite off more than I can chew. I procrastinate. I ... I ... I was going to say that I do lots of things that get in the way of doing the hobbies that I say that I have. That is a big, fat, fucking lie. I am a liar.

What really happens is that I get really excited about starting something new, and it is great and awesome and fun ... for about a month. And then there is either something new that I have decided to start, or as the case here, I simply become apathetic. Chalk it up to being lazy or blame it on my raging, untreated depression, but I spend night after night laying on the couch watching TV. Oh sure, I may decide that I should be working on the story and should be putting it in the blog. But all that really happens is that I end up feeling shitty about myself for once again not following through with one of my ... I dont know what the proper word is projects? hobbies? No, grandiose ideas. And I lay on the couch more, unable to motivate myself to do anything than select another episode from the TiVo menu.

The most ridiculous part of the whole thing is that I KNEW going into it that I would drop it eventually. How fucked up is that? This blog went the way of the scrapbooking and the music videos and the writing in general. Dropped. Not really dropped because I dont want to do them and not because I wasnt any good at it. Dropped out of apathy. How fucking lame is that?

Sure, my work got busy, and I use that as an excuse. But is it really? I work just about every day of the week, and sometimes, I bring work home with me. But there is time. I just spend it like a vegetable on the couch. I have no real life outside of work, so one would think that having hobbies to keep me occupied at home would be a good thing. But no.

Honestly, I think that I really just like starting new things. I am the same way at work. I am always starting new projects, and I have plans for several new projects that I have not even started yet. However, I have the hardest time forcing myself to follow through on the current projects that just need a little more work to get finished.

Maybe part of me likes having things hanging over my head. There is always something (sometimes, several things) hanging over my head. I hate that feeling, dreading an impending deadline or knowing that something needs to get finished. Yet as soon as something gets finished, I find myself making something new to do. For once, I would like to have more than a To Do List.

I dont know why this post took such a long-winded turn. My only point to was really to feign shock that it has been four months since I have written anything. Honestly, what is more shocking is that it has ONLY been four months.

But in the back of my mind for the past couple of weeks, I have been thinking about getting back into the the writing thing. Not the fiction. Although, I really should get back to that. Unfortunately, the characters have not been talking to me lately. They arent there in my head pushing me forward as they used to. And while this is sad, and I miss them. I can not force them back. No, my thoughts, as usual, are selfish. And I have been thinking of taking this blog in a more personal direction. Sure, my fiction is personal; a lot of me is in my story (maybe too much me). But I was thinking that this could be more of a personal journal. Maybe that will inspire me to get back into my story. But for now, it really is just all about me.

What has been irritating me lately, is that I dont have a dumping ground. There is no place to turn to purge this shit out of my brain. It used to be, back in the day, that my LiveJournal was that place. Then, too many people I knew in real life were there, and I could not let them read my personal crap. And I used to sometimes post more personal stuff in my Facebook, but again, too many people and too much crap. What I really need is a place to vent where I can get out what I need to get out; somewhere that coworkers do not know about and where my friends cant find me. Very few people (two, I think) even know that this blog even exists, and I doubt that either of them are checking it for updates.

So, yeah, The Creative Blog with a Dark Imagination is still here. But now, it is more just garbage from my head, and not the polished and planned prose that I had originally intended. But I do reserve the right to post more Maplethorpe Ridge or other random stuff here.

I just cracked myself up ... writing that last paragraph like people are reading this. It is laughable. Maybe someday when I am dead and gone, my sister will be going through my things and stumble across this. I am sorry that she will have to do that.

Music Videos - Intro & #12 Kaylee/Inara

2009-09-23T22:16:00.004-04:00

So, way back when, I started a little hobby of making music videos based on TV shows. Fueled by a need for an obsessive creative outlet and praise by my godfather, I cranked out lots of these over the years. Some are better than others, but I was talking about them with a friend one day, and I figured what the hell. Let's dust off the old files and share some vids. I'll try too hard not to flood the blog with all of them right away, and instead, slowly dole them out one at a time.

Let's start with my favourite one. It's a slash vid, which is basically using a music video to convey a romantic/sexual relationship between two characters that was not present on the original show.

This Kaylee/Inara from the uber-fabulous (and short-lived) Firefly

"My Heart Will Go On" by Celine Dion (I know it's a cheesy song, but trust me... it works here.)

Maplethorpe Ridge -- Road Map

2009-09-23T21:07:00.001-04:00

It's Writing Wednesday! And that means another new installment of Maplethorpe Ridge. Below is your map to follow along, in case you're behind.

Enjoy!

Prologue -- Aug 6, 2009
Chapter I - Welcome to Nolan (Part 1) -- Aug 10, 2009
Chapter I - Welcome to Nolan (Part 2) -- Aug 18, 2009
Chapter I - Welcome to Nolan (Part 3) -- Sept 23, 2009

Chapter I - Welcome to Nolan (Part 3)

2009-09-23T20:14:00.013-04:00

Yes, yes. I know. It's been over a month since I last posted part of Chapter 1. I promise to be better and to keep up with my Writing Wednesdays. And now, on with the show.

*****

The next morning, there was another article in the paper about Crystal McMannis's babies. This time it was a birth announcement. Baby-Boy and Baby-Girl McMannis has been given names -- Matthew Adam and Meghan Claire McMannis, respectively. Quinn cut this article out of the paper, just as he had the previous one, put it in an envelope, and addressed it to Alabama.

*****

Matthew and Meghan slept in their cribs in the intensive care unit while Crystal, Cody, and Tyler looked on. They were so tiny, which brought Crystal to tears. Both Tyler and Cody comforted her. Just then, Dr. Gladstone came in and told them that there was a problem. Crystal looked frightened, as did Cody, while Tyler asked what was going on. Thomas told them that Meghan's blood type did not match that of either of her parents. Cody asked him what that was, and Thomas told him that it was Type O. he also explained that since Tyler was type A and Crystal was Type AB Meghan could not be Type O. Tyler looked at Crystal with a look of concern and fear. Crystal finally buckled after several minutes and sdmitted that she slept with Cody and that Meghan must be his child. Tyler freaked out and then asked Thomas about Matthew. He said that Matthew's was also strange, but if Cody was responsible for Meghan being Type O that Matthew must have a different father than Meghan, because his blood type was B. Now, Tyler was furious. "Who is the OTHER father?" Tyler screamed. Crystal felt faint and dizzy. When her head hit the cold hospital floor, she woke up in her bed, covered with sweat...a bad dream.

*****

Jen woke up on the couch of her apartment with a pounding headache. She staggered to the bathroom and grabbed a bottle of aspirin, took four of them, and went to the kitchen to make breakfast. On her way to the kitchen, she discovered the note from Blake on the floor. She read it, got a puzzled look on her face, and made breakfast. After she ate, she called the hospital and told them that she wouldn't be coming in because she was ill. Once she felt better, she picked up the phone and called Blake's parents in San Diego. Blake was not the type of girl to just pick up and leave town, even if it was for an emergency such as the note had said. Plus, Jen also remembered Blake telling her that her grandmother had died when she was in elementary school. Blake's mom, Evelyn, told Jen that she had remembered correctly; her mother had died fiften years earlier and that she hadn't heard from Blake in several days. Jen hung up the phone and crawled into the shower. her hangover would have to wait; the search for Blake Montgomery had begun.

*****

Tyler and Cody arrived at the hospital after Crystal had calmed herself down enough to fall back asleep. They watched her sleep for a while, then decided to go look in on the twins. They cooed at the glass of the ICU windows and smiled as Matthew and Meghan slept. Tyler went to hunt down Dr. Gladstone to get some more details on Crystal's homecoming tomorrow. After Tyler left, Nick came and looked at the twins. He then got into a heavy discussion with Cody.

"So, do you think that they could be your children?" He asked sarcastically.

"They can't be." Cody tried to be positive, but it wasn't really working. "Tyler and Crystal are very much in love. If even one of them is mine, it would destroy both of them."

"But you can't deny that the possibility is there. Can you?"

"Nick, what would Linda say if she knew that the possibility is there that they could be your children?" Cody retorted.

"Ah, one time, when compared to many, many encounters at the Nolan Inn, greatly reduces the chances that either one off them is my child." Nic paused to gauge Cody's reaction. After a moment, he continued. "how healthy was Tyler and Crystal's sex life? I mean, obviously it wasn't earth-shattering if she slept with you even once. But they did make love, didn't they?"

"From what I understood, Tyler enjoyed his wife, when he could."

"'When he could,' what kind of crap is that?"

"He is always busy with some case or another." Cody explained. "But this past yar, Tyler has had some more personal problems. That is why she came to me in the first place."

Nick raised an eyebrow, knowing that Cody was lying to him. "Let's hope that Chance is in our favor." Nick added; he was almost friendly.

"Amen to that."

Nick took off after grilling Cody. he did not need to get into another fight with Cody at the hospital. About ten minutes later, Cody received a light tap on his shoulder and was greeted by the smell of Chanel No5. He turned around. "Grandma!" Cody shouted. Rose Weber was volunteering at the hospital that morning and was very surprised to see her grandson there. Cody explained the situation about Tyler and Crystal. Rose offered to say a prayer for them and went off on her merry way but not before she had invited Cody, Tyler, Crystal, and Cody's choice of a date over for dinner. Cody accepted for all of them and kissed his grandma good-bye.

After she left, Cody resumed his gazing at the babies. He felt really bad about everything that had happened. He told them that they would never know about him and their mother. He kissed the glass and left. After Cody was clear out of sight, Quinn popped his head out from behind a potted plant, turned off the video camera, and left.

*****

Jen rushed to the door hoping that it was Blake and that she was knocking because she forgot her key. But it wasn't. It was Blake's parents, Evelyn and Robyn. The instant that Jen opened the door, Mrs. Montgomery started screaming about her "poor baby" and babbling about how she was never going to see her again. Every time that Mr. Montgomery tried to get a word in edgewise, Evelyn cut him off; each time she did that, Robyn seemed to grow shorter. Jen brushed it off as her over-active imagination. She showed them the note that was obviously in Blake's own handwriting. Evelyn began to cry, but when Robyn tried to comfort her, she shoved him away. She would only let Jen hold her. Jen offered to put the Montgomery's up for the night, but Evelyn said that she already made Robyn get them a room at the Nolan Inn. Jen told them that she had to work at six in the morning the next day, but she would be done by noon and they could go and get Tyler McMannis to do something to find Blake.

Just when she had shushed the Montgomery's and shooed them out the door, the phone rang. It was Cody; he invited her to have dinner with him grandparents and Tyler and Crystal (who had been released from the hospital). Jen accepted and said nothing about her disappearing roommate. She needed to have a good time. Cody arrived at eight-thirty and they drove off to the Weber's historic estate on the hill, just outside of Nolan.

Linda showed up at Maplethorpe ad Jen and Cody were leaving for the Weber's. She looked rather annoyed, so neither Jen nor Cody started a conversation with her. Jen and Cody pulled out, and Linda stormed inside. She knocked on the door labeled "Manager". A shirtless Lucas Montgomery answered the door with a cigarette in his mouth and a beer in his hand. He let Linda inside and offered her a smoke, which she accepted. They carried on about fifteen minutes of small talk before Linda got down to why she was actually there.

"Do you have any vacat apartments that are available for rent?"

"I may." Lucas replied. "If I remember correctly, someone on the second floor may be moving out."

"When will you know for sure?" Linda asked.

Lucas took a step closer to Linda and blew out a large plume of smoke from his nostrils. "When you give me what I want...what I need."

"And what is that exactly?" Linda asked coyly, knowing what was about to happen, yet pretending not to know in a flirty way that she was very good at conveying.

"Your security deposit."

And as he said this last line, which he has used many times before, Lucas kissed Linda's neck. Linda submitted, and eventually, the two of them became a tangle of sweaty flesh on the floor of Lucas's apartment.

*****

Quinn took the videotape out of the camera, put in the VCR, watched, and heard Cody and Nick's conversation outside the nursery. He saw Rose come and tap Cody's shoulder and saw Cody talking to the twins and kissing the window. After he watched it, he rewound the tape, took it out of the VCR, and put it in an envelope. Quinn addressed it to Alabama and went to bed, with a smile on his face.

*****

Cody and Jen pulled into the drive at the Weber Mansion. The butler, Sven, let them in and led them to the parlor where the other guests were waiting for them. Sven opened the door and there was Rose, Tyler and Crystal, sitting having drinks and trying to keep up polite conversation. Jen and Cody joined them and introductions were passed around. After about fifteen more minutes of drinks and small talk, Rose suggested that they adjourn to the dining room for dinner. Cody asked where Marc was and Rose told him that he was preparing a surprise and would meet them in the dining room.

Rose opened the French doors to the dining room and let out the most shrill, most blood-curdling scream a 76-year-old woman has ever screamed. Cody rushed to her, and then they all saw him. Marc Weber was slumped over at the table. There was a knife protruding from his back, and his shirt was stained red with his blood.

Tyler turned to Jennifer and said, "Welcome to Nolan, Jen."

Yeah yeah yeah. Slap me in the face and call me lazy.

2009-09-21T19:09:00.002-04:00

I had promised this blog (myself) that I would write more and be more attentive to my story and my writing. Well, apparently, that only worked for a few weeks. UGH.

Life happens, and work has been been very busy and sucky. At any rate, things are calming down now in my real life, so I have more time to devote to this. To that end, I am going to reinstate Writing Wednesdays starting this week.

To keep your appetites going, I posted two short stories tonight:

Electric Barbarella is a slash story. Its VERY sexually explicit, so dont read it if you dont want to read about gay sex in detail. It is also the first part of a two-part story.

Stupid Girl is the 2nd half of that two-part story. It is NOT sexually explicit, and can be read stand-alone without losing any of the meaning. Its what is called a rift story. For this one, I randomly (pulled from a hat) selected five characters from the Whedonverse and wrote a story based on them.

I am remembering that I do have more short stories out there, and I plan to publish those here as I find them. Thats just going to take time. I do intend to get through Maplethorpe Ridge as well. So, please hang tight.

Stupid Girl (Short Story)

2009-09-21T18:30:00.003-04:00

After having narrowly escaping the clutches of The Domo, Zoë stood alone on the bridge of her ship, Serenity. Would the others even remember this night? She wondered. Will I be able to tell them that the Domo had poisoned them into thinking that they were all horny homosexuals with an electromagnetic pulse? Why wasn’t I affected? Will everything be alright?

“I can answer that question for you,” a perky female voice said from no where.

“Who the hell are you?” Zoë asked the empty bridge.

A blue and white breezeless tornado of light appeared in front of her. Zoë flinched at the sight, expecting to be blown away by its force. She wasn’t, and she watched in awe as a beautiful brunette woman wearing a floor-length white evening gown materialized from nothingness.

“Everything’s going to be just fine,” the woman said.

“You haven’t answered my question,” Zoë said. “Who are you?”

“Don’t you recognize me?” The woman replied. She paused a bit thinking and continued,
“Duh. Of course you don’t. I’m Cordelia Chase.”

“Where did you come from? What happened here tonight?” Zoë babbled. “I have so many questions.”

“Zoë,” Cordelia began patiently. “I’m one of The Powers That Be.” Cordelia sauntered up next to Zoë and put her arm around her. “Your friends…and Jayne…won’t remember anything that happened tonight in the morning. That is, if there is a morning to wake up to.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I was testing you, Zoë,” Cordelia explained. “I’ve been watching you, waiting for when the time was right.”

“So, this was just a test,” Zoë was clearly trying to wrap her head around what Cordelia was tying to say. “And this Domo thing…you did that?”

“Sort of…the Domo are real. Their threat to the Outer Rim is real too, but I sent them here as a test for you—to see if you could save your friends…and Jayne...on your own. And you passed.”

“So what now?” Zoë asked. “And what about this whole ‘if there is a morning’ thing?”
“I can explain,” Cordelia replied. “But not here.”

Cordelia waved her arms in a big circle three times and in another cyclone of light, both Zoë and Cordelia were gone. The next thing Zoë knew, she and Cordelia were standing alone in what appeared to be a forest, but Zoë knew that it must be a trick.

“Where are we?” she demanded to know.

“We’re in the rain forest,” Cordelia said matter-of-factly. “This is where it will all end…” she trailed off dreamily. “…but hopefully not. That’s why we’re here.”

“This can’t be. There are no ‘rain forests’ on any world that I have ever heard of,” Zoë wasn’t buying Cordelia’s story. “Except maybe in the virtual reality bars in Ariel City… Did you take me to the Core?”

“No. This is Earth.”

“It can’t be,” Zoë said shakily with a tear forming in her eye. “Earth is dead. Nothing can live there. This must be a trick.”

“No, I assure you, this is Earth. Earth of the year 2005.”

Zoë’s eyes perked up, and she began to look excited.

“Hold your horses, Zoë,” Cordelia cautioned. “We have work to do, and there isn’t much time. I have to get the others.”

“Others?”

“The team...compadres…posse?” Cordelia was struggling not to be short with Zoë. “Once everyone is together, I can explain. There’s not time to explain the whole thing five times. So, wait here, and I’ll be back.”

“But why am I here?”

“To help me save the world…” Cordelia answered as she disappeared in her tornado of light. Zoë barely had time to think. In a flash, Cordelia was back accompanied by another woman—a brunette with blonde and red streaks in her hair. She was dressed all in leather with long leather gloves covering her hands.

“Zoë this is Gwen,” Cordelia introduced the two women. “Zoë can explain what’s going on.” Cordeila waved her arms and vanished.

“Gwen is it?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m not exactly sure what’s going on,” Zoë began, “I think that we’re supposed to help this woman—“

Zoë was cut off by Cordelia’s instant return with a man this time. She didn’t even bother to introduce this newcomer to Zoë and Gwen before vanishing again.

“Riley Finn,” he introduced himself holding out his right hand to Gwen.

“Gwen,” she replied not shaking his hand. “I don’t touch people.”

“Okay,” Riley was obviously creeped out. “And you are?”

“Zoë,” she replied looking Riley up and down, sizing him up. He was tall, and his muscled arms were practically bursting out of his tight t-shirt.

Cordelia materialized with the fifth member of the team, before anything else could be said.

“Sheesh,” Cordelia gasped. “This one-at-a-time-ing is going to be the death of me.” She burst out laughing, and vanished again in a flash of light.

“Riley Finn.” Riley said extending a hand to the blonde new guy.

“Andrew,” he replied shaking his hand looking Riley up and down.

“This is Gwen and Zoë,” Riley finished the introductions.

Cordelia reappeared with another young woman. Her hair was some color between blonde and brown, and she was the shortest of the group.

“Everyone,” Cordelia announced. “This is Fred.”

“Now that everyone is here, why don’t you explain what exactly is going on and why we’re all here?” Zoë asked exasperated with this whole situation.

“Excellent idea, Zoë,” Cordelia began…

“It all started about three or four years ago, in this time frame. A man and a woman fell into this forbidden relationship. He was demon fighter on the outs with his friends. She was a lawyer at an evil law firm—“

Fred interrupted, “You’re speaking of Lilah and Wesley, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Cordelia continued. “Lilah and Wesley. Lilah was killed—“

“By you,” Gwen interrupted this time. “If I remember correctly.”

“Yes, but I was being controlled by an ancient evil power hell bent on enslaving the Earth. Let’s try to keep all the details—“

“Wait!” Zoë brought the conversation to a screeching halt. “You all know each other?”

“I don’t know any of these people,” Riley replied.

“Kinda,” Andrew said. “I know Fred, because I visited LA last year a few times to help her and Angel. But I thought you died when Illyria hijacked your body?”

“I can explain,” Fred said.

“And I only really know Cordelia by reputation,” Andrew continued. “We went to high school together in Sunnydale.” He paused to examine Gwen. “You, I don’t know.”

“I’m Gwen. I too helped Angel, Fred, Cordelia, and the gang a while back. How’s Charles?” She specifically directed her question at Fred.

“Charles is in a coma,” she said flatly. “He nearly died saving Los Angeles from the apocalypse with Angel, Spike, and Illyria.”

“Can we do this later?!?” Cordelia busted in. “We need to get started, and we’ll never get there if I don’t tell this story.”

There were nods of agreement around the circle, and Cordelia continued: “After Lilah died, she was given a final mission by the Senior Partners. To bring Angel and his friends into Wolfram and Hart. She did just that. And for her efforts, she was rewarded—with immortality, among other things. In the past two years, she’s built herself a fortress from which she can look down on all the things going on around the world. She kept an eye on Wesley all the time, because her heart still loved him. Then, in the apocalypse that Fred spoke of, Wesley was killed. Stricken by grief, Lilah decided that the best way to get over it is to destroy the earth.”

“Been there…done that,” Andrew mumbled.

“Hush!” Cordelia demanded. “Lilah is way more powerful than Willow ever could have hoped to be.” She cleared her throat. “My task is to stop her. I can’t do this on my own, which is why I’ve enlisted all of you to help.”

“Kidnapped is more like it,” Zoë added.

“Call it what you want,” she said. “But you all have a stake in this. If Lilah destroys the Earth, you’ll all die. And Zoë, neither you nor any of your friends will even exist in the future. The universe as you know it will cease to exist. Sure, I’m sure that some form of the universe will sill be around. But it won’t be this. It won’t be what you know.”

“So how do we stop her,” Riley asked.

“Glad you asked, hot stuff,” Cordelia replied. “Lilah has the elements of Thallia. With these she can open a portal to a black hole and basically suck the earth inside out.”

Cordelia surveyed the group for signs of hopelessness.

“So what, we just take away this Thallia stuff, and she’s stopped right?” Andrew asked.
“It’s not that simple Nerd-O. Lilah’s already started the ritual to open the portal. And we can’t get near her fortress with out the help of two more people—Anthony and Selena. They are the key to Lilah’s undoing, and she has them locked away at opposite ends of the world. We need to rescue each of them, bring them to Lilah’s fortress, and they will stop Lilah from sucking the world inside out.”

“So, why us?” Gwen asked. “What makes the five of us so special?”

“Yeah,” Andrew and Riley agreed in unison.

“Each of you has your own abilities, each of you has a stake in what happens here today, and each of you is destined for great things,” Cordelia explained.

“What are you talking about?” Fred asked.

“Listen, there’s really not time to—“

“You’d better explain yourself, missy,” Zoë interrupted, “or I’m not going anywhere or doing anything.”

“Ugh. Fine,” Cordeila relented. “Fred, you and Andrew are destined to take over Wolfram and Hart and bring it down from the inside out, ending centuries of evil all over the world. Riley, you and Buffy are destined to be reunited and your granddaughter will be the first prime minister of a unified Earth. Zoë, you and your band of friends in the future will lead a rebellion that will bring an end to the Alliance and bring prosperity to those suffering in the Outer Rim.”

“And me,” Gwen asked, uncharacteristically meekly. “What’s my great purpose in this life?”

“Gwen, honey, isn’t it obvious?” Cordelia looked upon her blank face and decided that she needed more of an explanation. “Gwen, you are destined to save the world alongside your great-great-great-great-great-great…oh you get the point, granddaughter.”

Gwen looked to Zoë. Zoë looked back at Gwen, and then both of the women shot glances
at Cordelia.

“What?” She said. “You and Gunn—sorry, Charles—get together, raise a family, have many beautiful children. Zoë here is your descendant. But none of this is ever going to happen if we don’t take care of Lilah and stop her from sucking the whole world inside out. Are you with me?”

“Hell yeah!” Riley yelled with true military forcefulness.

“Sounds like fun,” Zoë cheered, sarcastically.

Selena

“I don’t see why we had to split up,” Andrew whined.

“Because, Squirt, twenty-three hours is not enough time for all six of us to get this job done,” Riley explained.

“Don’t call me Squirt.”

“Come on, boys,” Fred interjected. “Play nice. We still need to rescue Selena and meet up with the others.”

Fred, Riley, and Andrew were sent via Cordelia’s light tornado the Australian outback.

Luckily, Cordy had done her research in advance and knew roughly where Andrew and Selena were being held. Unfortunately for this half of the team, neither Selena nor her demon guard were visible anywhere in the vicinity.

Andrew pulled a gismo that looked strikingly similar to a control for a remote-control car from his pocket and pressed a button on the side of it. The gismo lit up and began steadily beeping.

“What’s that?” Riley asked examining Andrew’s gismo.

“You should know, Mr. Initiative,” Andrew teased. “It’s a demon tracker. Cordelia told me that Lilah is most likely using Ha’aal demons to guard these guys. They give off a very distinct pheromone.”

“I know all about the Ha’aal,” harrumphed Riley.

The unlikely threesome walked in the barren wilderness in silence, with Andrew slightly in the lead. The beeping of the device kept its constant meter. Andrew was the first to break the silence.

“So, you never explained the whole back from the dead thing,” he directed toward Fred.

“It’s relatively simple, Andrew,” Fred explained. “You should be able to figure it out. But I’ll tell my story anyway.”

Riley looked confused.

“Fred died when Illyria took over her body. That is true. What is also true is that Illyria retained all of Fred’s memories: her time in Pylea, her love for Gunn and Wes, graduate school…everything. Angel and Wesley took away most of Illyria’s super powers to prevent her from exploding and destroying the city in the process. The human body was simply not enough to contain the essence of the god. After Angel and the others defeated the army sent by the Senior Partners, Illyria began to go insane. She could no longer distinguish herself from Fred, and it was driving her mad. That’s when they decided to go to South America and pay a visit to Willow. Willow used a spell that removed Fred’s memories and residual essence from Illyria. And Illyria was sane again. She and Spike decided to return to Los Angeles and keep the vamps and demonies under control.”

“That doesn’t explain—“ Fred cut Andrew off and continued.

“The spell that Willow used to rid Illyria of Fred was a transference spell. She shunted all the residual Fred from Illyria to the Buffybot.”

“You can do that?” Riley asked.

“Willow can do anything she sets her mind too,” Andrew replied in awe.

“After Spike and Illyria returned to LA and Angel left to join Nina and her family, Willow decided that if the Buffybot was going to be a home for Fred’s memories, that she should look like Fred. Six months later, here I am. Pretty neat, huh?”

“That’s one word for it,” Riley said.

The beeping of Andrew’s gismo grew louder and faster. “I think we’re getting close,” he said.

“Close to what?” Riley asked. “I don’t see anything.”

“There!” Andrew pointed directly ahead.

“There’s nothing there.”

Andrew put his demon tracker down, picked up a hefty stone, and heaved it forward. It drifted in midair for a second then stopped abruptly and fell to the ground with a thud. Then, as if from nowhere, the Ha’aal demon appeared before them. It stood well over seven feet tall and oozed blue pus from every pore. The stench was almost unbearable.

Riley drew his gun from the back of his pants and fired four rounds straight into the demon’s chest. Andrew laughed, “you should know that you can’t shoot a Ha’aal.”

And as if to illustrate his point, the Ha’aal demon walked closer to them pulling the bullets from its dark, gooey flesh and throwing them back at them. If it had a mouth, it would have been laughing at them.

“So, what now?” Riley looked worried.

Andrew looked to Fred. Fred looked at Riley. Riley looked to Andrew, to the demon, and back to Fred. Fred looked at the demon and a look of determination and triumph spread across her face. She ran to it. It held out a tentacled arm and stopped her like a thirteen-year-old will keep his seven-year-old brother at bay. Fred reached up and snapped the bone in its forearm three times. The Ha’aal hollered in pain. Fred kicked the demon as hard as she could in the stomach-area. The demon fell to the dirt. She grabbed its head and twisted with all her might, and the blue, oozy thing popped right off of its neck. Fred held the head triumphantly above her own head. The body teetered for a few seconds then fell to the ground.

“That’s how you kill a Ha’aal demon,” Andrew snarked.

“But where did it come from?” Riley asked. “It just appeared from no where.”

“Not no where,” Fred said, tossing the head aside and wiping her hands on her pants. “From here.” Fred walked up to an invisible wall and leaned against it.

Andrew felt along the invisible wall and found what felt like a latch. He pulled on it, and an invisible door opened, revealing a stairway. Riley led the way up the stairs with his gun drawn. Fred went next, and Andrew brought up the rear.

Lilah obviously thought that no one would be able to defeat her Ha’aal at the door. Fortunately for them (unfortunately for Lilah) she was wrong. Selena’s prison was a maze of stairways and narrow halls. Everything was painted black. Every twenty feet there was a dim red light, it made it very difficult for Riley, Andrew, and Fred to make their way around. They could have easily been lost in the maze for the rest of their lives, but again luck was on their side. Fred, after all, was a robot. She kept track of their steps and directions, and within an hour they reached the end. The final stairway led up what felt to Andrew at least thirty stories. Fred assured him that in reality it was only three and a half. The top of the stairs was what on initial inspection appeared to be a dead end. There was a red light directly above them. And Fred noticed that a tiny bump on the left wall was casting a shadow. Andrew pressed the button, and a small panel opened in the ceiling.

“How do we get up there?” Andrew wondered aloud.

His question was answered without words when Fred lifted Riley off the ground and tossed him through the opening.

“Whoa.”

“You’re next, Squirt,” Fred said. And before Andrew could object, he found himself next to Riley on the floor of a small room filled with light. Fred leapt up and joined the men. The walls of this room consisted solely of glass, as did the ceiling. The change from the darkness below to the brightness above had momentarily blinded Riley and Andrew, but soon they adapted.

There, they saw her. A small-ish woman, barely twenty-four years old with long black hair flowing down her back wearing only a white cotton bed gown stood in one corner of the room examining her rescuers.

“We’re here to rescue you,” Riley told the woman.

“We have to hurry, there’s no time,” Selena replied. She walked fast in her bare feet and dropped down the hole in the floor through which everyone had arrived.

“Ungrateful bitch,” Riley replied looking at Andrew.

Anthony

Cordelia planned her attack well, and her initial meeting place for her team was right outside Lilah’s other invisible prison. After taking Riley, Andrew, and Fred to Australia, she, Gwen, and Zoë got to their task of rescuing Selena’s twin—Anthony—from his captor.

The three women walked about half a mile through the rain forest toward where Cordelia’s memory told her Anthony was being held.

“What’s with the gloves, Grandma,” Zoë asked Gwen. “It’s like a million degrees out here.”

Gwen replied by removing her right glove. She bent down and picked up a snake with her left hand. She held the snake in the middle with her left (gloved) hand and quickly grasped the snake an inch below its head with her right. Blue electricity shot out of her hand. The snake twitched and shook violently. Smoke curled up from its body. The twitching stopped, and Gwen dropped the dead snake to the ground. “That’s why I wear the gloves, and don’t call me Grandma,” she added.

Zoë replied silently with a smile.

“There it is,” Cordelia said a minute later.

“I don’t see anything,” Zoë countered.

“It’s invisible,” Cordelia replied.

“Of course it is,” Gwen said.

“How do we—“ Zoë began. But she was interrupted when a blue, gooey, foul-smelling demon appeared before them.

The Ha’aal demon lunged for Cordelia. Cordelia vanished before the tentacles touched her. The Ha’aal swung through empty air, and Cordelia reappeared a moment later.

“Nice trick,” Gwen said.

“Thanks.”

Zoë drew her gun and fired several rounds into the demon. Nothing happened. It didn’t even seem to notice the lead slugs in its flesh.

“Gwen,” she said. “Looks like you’ll have to take this one.”

Gwen removed her gloves and charged the demon. “Come on bitch!” She yelled. “Come and get me!”

The Ha’aal demon grabbed Gwen and lifted her off the ground. Gwen grabbed back and held onto the sides of the demon’s head with both hands. Its flesh sizzled. Electricity crackled around all of them. Zoë held her nose against the stench of frying Ha’aal demon. The demon released Gwen from his grasp, but Gwen held on, dangling from the thing’s temples. The Ha’aal let out a low groan and dropped to the ground. Gwen released it and kicked it hard in the face.

“Come on,” Cordelia urged. “Time is short, and the Ha’aal won’t stay passed out for long.”

Cordelia led the way to the invisible door and pointed at the right spot. Zoë kicked it in.

“That was unnecessary,” Cordelia said. “The button’s right there.”

“Let’s get this over with,” Zoë replied.

The inside of this invisible prison was identical to Selena’s. As they made their way through the black halls of stairs, Gwen decided to get some answers.

“I thought you died,” she asked Cordelia.

“I did.”

“Oh.”

“I…transitioned,” Cordelia explained. “I think that’s what they called it. I was a great asset to the Powers when I was a human, and they gave me this afterlife. I suppose you could say I’m a Power in training. This is my first mission.”

“But how did you know about me,” Zoë asked, “in the future?”

“Time isn’t exactly linear,” Cordelia explained. “That’s one of the first things they teach you. It’s kinda like being in a room full of televisions all showing different time periods of what’s going on around the universe. It’s rather intimidating.”

“What’s a television?” Zoë asked.

“So, what’s to stop you from going to the past and changing things?” Gwen asked.

“I said not exactly linear,” Cordelia tried to explain. “We can go forward, but not back.”

“Huh?”

“Because the future hasn’t happened yet. Anything is possible. And we can see each possibility unfold.”

“So, you know what will happen if we don’t stop Lilah in time,” Zoë commented.

“Trust me, it isn’t pretty.”

No more was said of time travel. The ladies found Anthony in the same way Selena was found. And Gwen, Zoë, and Cordelia escorted him from his invisible prison. Once outside a flash of light signaled the disintegration of the invisible building.

“Now what?” Gwen asked.

“Now, we wait for the signal,” Cordelia replied.

Thallia

After about twenty minutes of sitting in the forest staring at each other, Cordelia stood up and stared at the sky.

“Oooh…” Gwen teased. “My spidey sense is tingling.”

Anthony shot Gwen a nasty look. Zoë rolled her eyes. She still couldn’t believe that she was wrapped up in all this mess. People back from the dead, an evil lawyer hell-bent on sucking the world inside out, a set of twins held captive in invisible prisons, and to top it all off, she was fighting along side her very distant relative. She shook her head in disbelief.

“It’s time,” Cordelia said. Without another word, she vanished in a poof of light.

Seconds later, she poofed back to Zoë, Gwen, and Anthony along with Fred, Andrew, Riley, and Selena.

“Selena!” Andrew shouted.

“Andrew!” Selena shouted back and went to her brother.

“NO!” Cordelia yelled stepping between the reunited twins. “Not yet.”

“Not yet, what?” Riley asked impatiently. “I thought we were in a time crunch, here.”

“We are. But if they touch each other they’ll be taken to Thallia.”

“Where’s that?” Andrew asked.

“Thallia is our sister,” Selena replied.

“She was banished from this world centuries ago,” Anthony explained. “She was evil. Pure evil. The Powers banished her to stop exactly what Lilah is trying to do now.”

“They divided her body into five pieces and imprisoned each inside a talisman,” Selena continued. “Once the pieces are reassembled and the proper ritual performed, Thallia will be reborn. Only she can open the portal of Rubidius.”

“And that’s what’s going to suck the world inside out,” Gwen confirmed.

“Yep,” Cordelia replied. “Okay. Here’s the plan…” Cordelia laid out the plan before the eight of them, and once they were done everyone joined hands starting with Selena and ending with Anthony. When Selena took Anthony’s hand, all eight of them disappeared.

“Patefacio vestri porta ut abyssus per combibo eternus nex orbis terrarum,” Lilah chanted this phrase over and over. A young woman with blonde locks of hair flowing down her back hovered about the center of a pentagram inscribed inside a circle painted on the floor. “Patefacio vestri porta ut abyssus per combibo eternus nex orbis terrarum.”

The twins mode of transport was much less dramatic than Cordelia’s, and Lilah did not even notice the arrival of the eight visitors. Two shots were fired at exactly the same time. Each hit Lilah precisely on target. She fell to the floor.

“Thalia!” Selena and Anthony shouted in unison running toward their lost-and-now-found sister.

“You can not stop what has already begun.” Ominous words from a crumpled Lilah on the floor. She stood and faced the intruders. “Stupid mortals. I can’t be killed with your mortal weapons,” she said to a dumbfounded Zoë and Riley. “Cordy! Nice to see you again. You should have prepared your minions better.”

“Stuff it,” Cordelia replied. “You don’t get to call me Cordy.”

Anthony and Selena dragged Thalia out of Lilah’s pentagram. A spherical hole appeared in the spot where Thalia had been during the ritual. It was about the size of a golf ball and steadily growing. “See,” Lilah said. “It has begun.”

“You never loved Wesley!” Fred shrieked at Lilah charging her.

Fred ran full-on into Lilah with incredible force. She held her pinned against the wall.

“My Fred, you certainly have grown big and strong. Milk certainly did your body good.”

“Lilah, you can’t do this,” Cordelia pleaded. “Have you thought about what you’re doing? The Earth and everything and everyone on it—including you—will be destroyed. Is that what you want?”

“It will end,” she replied flatly. “It always ends.”

Fred punched Lilah square in the face breaking her nose.

“You’re lucky that I heal fast, Robo-Slut.”

Lilah was still unable to escape from Fred’s grasp.

“What are we supposed to do,” Andrew asked.

“Help,” Riley answered.

Andrew did nothing. Riley did nothing. Zoë and Gwen exchanged a glance and both charged at Lilah who was still pinned against the wall by Fred. Gwen reached them first, but unfortunately her aim was off and she ran straight into Fred’s back. The shock was instant, loud, and bright. Fred and Gwen fell to the floor releasing Lilah. Smoke curled up from Fred’s mouth and nostrils; her eyes stayed fixed and open. Zoë arrived an instant later, leaping over the bodies on the floor and pinned Lilah back against the wall.

“You’re no match for me, Future Bitch,” Lilah yelled shoving Zoë back.

The two of them began throwing punches. First Lilah landed a right into Zoë’s face, and Zoë countered with a punch to Lilah’s already broken nose. The two continued this back and forth fight as Gwen tried to get back to her feet.

“Do something you two!” She shouted.

Andrew looked around the room trying to find some sort of a weapon. Riley drew his gun and tried to aim at Lilah, but the two fighting women were moving too fast and Zoë kept drifting in and out of his sights.

“Oh, you two are useless!” Gwen groaned. She rolled over and lunged for Lilah’s ankles. Lilah kicked her in the face, which scooted her back about five feet.
Meanwhile, Cordelia was talking with the triplets and the hole in the world was growing larger. It was now the size of a ripe cantaloupe and still steadily growing. Gwen could feel its pull already.

“It’s begun,” Lilah groaned kicking Zoë away from her enough to break free. “Soon, the Earth and everything on it will be gone.”

“We can’t let you do this,” Andrew said rather forcefully.

Riley and Andrew appeared on either side of Lilah. Lilah turned toward Riley and winked at him. Riley gave her a swift and very hard kick in the chest and pushed her into Andrew. Andrew jumped up and climbed onto Lilah’s back wrapping his arms around her neck.

“Silly boy,” she laughed. “I’m dead. I don’t need to breathe.”

Lilah began to spin around trying to toss Andrew from her back. Riley pulled his gun and shot Lilah again. She recoiled but still remained vertical. Gwen tried again with the ankles, and this time she was able to hold on—to both of them. Andrew pulled back. Gwen pulled forward, and Lilah fell to the ground.

“Hold the bitch down,” Zoë shouted.

The noise coming from the portal was growing so loud that Zoë had to shout to have any chance of being heard over it. The growing sphere had now reached the ceiling. Soon they would all be engulfed in its blackness.

Riley fired his gun once more and a dark red circle appeared on Lilah’s forhead.

“They sure do grow ‘em dumb in Iowa, don’t they,” Lilah laughed still pinned to the floor.

That was the last straw. Riley gave Zoë a knowing glance and they hoisted Lilah off the floor. The four of them carried her over the smoldering robot that looked like Fred and on the count of three they tossed the screaming bitch into the portal. The instant she breached the periphery of the sphere, Lilah was sucked into a tiny point of light and vanished from sight.

The hole kept growing.

“What now?” Gwen asked. “I thought the hole would close.”

“Why would you think that?” Andrew snarked back. “The only way to close The Portal of Rubidius—“

“Is for me to go through it,” Thallia finished Andrew’s sentence.

Selena and Andrew looked longingly at their sister but said nothing. Cordelia nodded, and Thallia walked up to the edge of the portal. She looked around at everyone, smiled at her brother and sister, and then jumped into the sphere. And just like Lilah, she too vanished into a point of light at the center. Without any prompting or any warning, Andrew and Selena joined hands and ran into the sphere. Within moments the sphere retracted. Everything in Lilah’s fortress was as it was before.

“I was going to say that,” Andrew said. “She didn’t let me finish.” Riley tussled Andrew’s hair and smiled.

Cordelia smiled at her assembled team. “I did it,” she said toward the ceiling.

“You mean, ‘we’ did it,” Zoë corrected.

“Yes, Zoë, we did it. We stopped Lilah and stopped the earth from being sucked inside out.”

“Not to bad for a first mission, eh?” Gwen teased.

“What about Fred,” Zoë asked.

“I can fix her,” Andrew said solemnly.

“Good job, Squirt,” Riley said tussling his hair again.

“Guh! Don’t call me Squirt!”

Zoë

“And that’s it?” Wash asked his wife.

“That’s it,” she replied.

The two of them were laying naked in bed together. Wash rolled onto his side and looked longingly at Zoë.

“And this Gwen could shoot electricity out from her hands?”

“No,” she laughed, “it didn’t shoot out. She just conducted it with her touch.”

“And she’s your grandmother?”

“Something like that,” Zoë smiled.

“I don’t believe it,” Wash said rolling onto his back.

They both sighed a deep sigh.

“So, did this Cordelia tell you anything else about the future?” Wash prodded. “Anything about us?”

“Nope,” Zoë replied. She turned to Wash and ran her index finger around his bare chest. “But I’ve got another story for you.”

“You do?” Wash was intrigued.

“Do you remember last night?”

Electric Barbarella (Short Story - Sexually Explicit)

2009-09-21T17:58:00.004-04:00

The hum of the ship was the only sound Inara could hear from her bed onboard her shuttle. Usually, the beautiful and sultry companion had no trouble finding sleep, but tonight, she paced. She lit a candle and brewed some tea. Serenity, she thought. HA! Some name for a ship. After much struggle, Inara relented. There was only one way she was going to get to sleep. She grabbed a robe from her bed and stormed out of her shuttle putting the robe on en route.

The bubbly, red-headed mechanic, however, had no trouble what-so-ever sleeping. She laid in her bed atop the bed clothes wearing only her cotton panties. A quiet knock on her door did not rouse her. The noise grew in intensity. Eventually, Kaylee awoke, and in her still-mostly-asleep mindset, she unlocked the door, forgetting to cover herself. The panel was pushed inward, and a pair of dainty feet with toe nails painted the deepest shade of plum appeared. Kaylee recognized her visitor instantly before she had completely descended the ladder. Her panties warmed with anticipation.

Kaylee greeted Inara with a passionate kiss. Inara touched Kaylee’s exposed breasts, which sent a blaze of electricity through the young engineer’s system. Kaylee pulled Inara towards her, and together, they made their way to the bed without breaking the seal of their lips. Kaylee laid beneath her lover. Inara’s head traveled from Kaylee’s lips to her neck and to her nipple. From there, her tongue lead the way lower: down the seam of her perfectly flat stomach around her navel and lower still to the warmth that had stirred Inara from her shuttle.

Kaylee’s eyes rolled back so far in her head that she looked like she had been taken over by some sort of spirit. Beads of sweat formed at her temples, grew, and rolled down her hair line to leave dampness on the bed-sheets. Inara drove deeper with her tongue, to which Kaylee responded by arching her back and passing a loud groan of pleasure through her lips. Inara never gave up. Kaylee’s thighs pressed tight against the companion’s head. Inara’s sienna hair fell beautifully all around Kaylee’s bare legs. Kaylee’s breathing quickened, and her heart raced. Inara quickened her pace in just the right spot. Kaylee pounded her fists into the mattress repeatedly and thrust her hips forward to force Inara deeper inside of her. Kaylee’s orgasm rushed over her, and had it not been for Inara, she would have drowned in its depth. Inara left Kaylee’s womanly enclave with a wide Cheshire grin filling her beautiful face, and her lips met Kaylee’s once more. And for the first—but not the last—time that night, Kaylee tasted herself.

Captain Malcom Reynolds sat up bolt upright in his bed at that exact instant. His chiseled, bare chest covered in droplets of sweat. Panting he asked his empty bedroom, “What in the holy gorram Hell is going on here?” He laid back down in his bed with his hands behind his head. “What a dream,” he breathed. Then, his right hand left his head and traveled down to meet his engorged cock.

Twenty-four Hours Earlier…

Mal joined Wash and his wife Zoë on the bridge of Serenity. Zoë stood behind her husband massaging his shoulders while he watched the screens to be sure that they did not drift off course. Mal glanced over his shoulder.

“Wash,” he ordered pointing at the monitor. “Zoom in and enhance this quadrant.”
“Yes, si…” Wash’s voice trailed off when he realized what the captain had seen.
“Sir, please tell me that’s not what it looks like,” Zoë pleaded.

“I can’t,” Mal said flatly turning toward the entrance. He pounded a button that activated the ship-wide intercom system. “Kaylee! Kill the engines!” He shouted.

“Mal,” Wash asked wide eyed. “What do we do?”

“We just have to wait this out, that’s all,” he replied. “That’s all anyone can do.”
The ship that Mal had seen on the monitor before anyone else, which is probably why things happened the way that they did, belonged to a gang of pirates known as The Domo. But there was no way for our intrepid captain to know this, for this ship looked exactly like an Alliance cruiser, probably because it was an Alliance cruiser—one that The Domo commandeered only a few weeks before. How exactly this cruiser had managed to sneak up so close to Serenity without anyone noticing remained a mystery, and for that matter, so did the fact that the cruiser did not appear to be in pursuit of them.

“So, what,” Jayne interrupted the meeting, “we just sit here like a gorram sitting goose?”

“For now, that’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Mal said calmly.

“We need a plan,” Zoë added.

“They don’t seem to want anything to do with us,” Kaylee suggested. “We haven’t been hailed or attacked or approached. Why don’t I just fire’er up and we can get the heck outta here.”

“I, for one, do not want to attract the Alliance to us by suddenly bolting out of here,” Simon said. “There’s no need to draw them in.”

“We can’t just fucking sit here!” Jayne yelled.

“Enough!” Mal shouted, literally putting his foot down. “This is what we’re going to do,” he added, a bit calmer.

For about half an hour, Mal explained the plan to the others. Everyone agreed that it was the most sensible option; although, Jayne needed more than a little convincing.

“So, it’s all agreed,” Mal began his finish. “We begin in one hour.”

Just then, Inara burst in the room in a flourish of colorful silk and dark, wavy hair. “No!” She shouted. “You can’t.”

“And why the fuck not,” Jayne snapped at her.

“Because, look,” Inara pointed out Serenity’s front window at the Alliance cruiser.

“See that there. That’s the mark of The Domo.”

“The Domo?” Kaylee asked.

“I just received a communiqué from the Guild,” Inara explained. “They’re pirates. They steal ships, convert them into weapons of extreme terror, and use them to loot and pillage this whole sector.”

“So, what now?” Simon demanded.

“We get the heck outta here!” Wash said.

“NO!” Jayne yelled. “Are we gonna let a bunch of gorram pirates loot and pillage our sector?”

No answer from the crew.

“This is our sector, and it’s ours to loot and pillage,” Jayne continued. “Let’s blow their asses to the far outer rim!”

Everyone started to get motivated and even the captain seemed to be swayed by Jayne’s oddly passionate speech. But no one had time to get into action. The Domo made the first move.

Captain’s Prerogative

Mal finished his business after his very arousing dream and laid spent, sweaty, and sticky on his bed out of breath, when Jayne stormed into the room.

“Jayne!” Mal screamed making no attempt to cover himself. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing barging into my gorram quarters like that?”

For once in his life, Jayne was silent. His eyes were fixated on his naked captain covered in fluids. Something stirred both in his mind and in his sleeping shorts.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Jayne asked forcefully, pointing at the pool of semen between Mal’s pecs.

“That’s captain’s prerogative, Jayne,” Mal explained. “I can beat off if I choose to, and from the looks of you,” Mal eyed Jayne from head to toe. He was breathing in deep controlled breaths and tense-looking all over, and a very large, very distinct bulge was growing rapidly in his shorts. “You could use some ‘private time’ yourself.”

Comically, Mal make quote marks in the air with his fingers as he spoke.

“I have something better in mind,” Jayne said calmly. Since he was dressed for bed, all Jayne was wearing was his sleeping shorts, which were already threadbare after years of use and abuse. The flimsy fabric could barely contain his raging beast of a cock, and as soon as Jayne touched the mostly disintegrated elastic band, the beast broke free of his tiny cage. His cock was drooling juice, as Jayne pounced. He leapt from the foot of his captain’s bed and landed straddling Mal. They were both breathing heavily in each others’ faces. Mal could feel the hair on Jayne’s much more massive chest brushing his smooth pecs with each of the mercenary’s breaths. Jayne flexed his groin muscles, and his cock bounced against Mal’s. Mal hardened.

Jayne sat up, pinning the captain beneath him. “Roll over!” He shouted.
Mal obeyed.

Jayne sat straddling the captain a few seconds too long—his cock resting in the cleft of Mal’s ass.

“Jayne,” Mal whimpered. “I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

Jayne pulled his hand back and slapped Mal hard on his ass, leaving behind a large red handprint. “You’re not calling the shots any more.”

Jayne laid on Mal, his furry chest pressed tight against Mal’s back. He brought his lips to Mal’s ear and whispered, “You don’t get to be the captain tonight. I do.” And with that Jayne thrust his slobbery cock deep inside his captain. Mal cried out in pain from the mammoth size of Jayne’s dick. Jayne paid no attention to the screams, and after five or six thrusts, Mal was quiet and beginning to enjoy himself.

Jayne pounded Mal’s tight chute, making sure that Mal felt their balls slapping together with each thrust. Jayne thrust faster and faster. Sweat oozed from every pore of his body and dripped to Mal’s nakedness below him. The captain yelled into the pillow, “Fuck me, Jayne! Fuck me harder!” And Jayne complied. Jayne fucked him harder and faster. Each stroke pulled his cockhead free of Mal’s warm hole, and each thrust shoved it in deeper than it had been before. Mal grunted in time with Jayne’s thrusting even as Jayne’s thrusting sped. Faster and faster he drove into his captain. Until he could take it no longer, and he exploded, filling Mal with ounce after ounce of his hot spunk.

Jayne kept Mal pinned to his bed, which was now soaked nearly through with their sweat. Mal, who had yet to cum, began to squirm under the largeness of the mercenary’s body. But Jayne kept still; his cock still hard inside Mal.

“I need to cum,” Mal whined.

“You’ll cum when I tell you you can cum,” Jayne said. His own cum had begun to leak out of Mal’s hole around Jayne’s cock, which was still hard. Jayne began to thrust again. Mal groaned. Jayne thrust. Mal panted. Jayne thrust. Mal yelped. Jayne thrust. Then, once again, Jayne pressed his sweaty flesh against Mal’s back and whispered in his ear: “Can you be trusted?”

“Yes,” Mal panted.

“Good,” Jayne said harshly. “I’m going to need to trust you.” Jayne pulled his dripping cock out of Mal’s ass and laid next to him on his back. “Now, I want you to lick my dick clean. Suck it off, and swallow my load you gorram faggot.”

“Yes, sir,” Mal said putting his lips to Jayne’s pole and his hand to his own.

Jayne slapped his face, hard. “NO!”

Mal looked like he was on the verge of tears.

“You don’t get to touch your cock until I tell you that you can,” Jayne explained. “Now, I ask you again: can you be trusted?”

“Yes,” Mal conceded. Again, he started sucking Jayne’s cock leaving his own to drool unattended.

Mal’s head bobbed up and down on Jayne’s shaft. Jayne grabbed Mal’s head and fucked his dick into his mouth. Mal groaned his encouragements as best he could with his mouth full. Jayne groaned one last time, and without warning, he filled Mal’s mouth.
Mal crawled back up the bed and laid next to Jayne being extra careful not to touch his cock. Jayne rested for about ten more seconds, got up, put on his threadbare shorts, and left. Before he closed the door, he popped his head back in the room. “You can go ahead and touch your cock, now, sir,” he said.

Domo Arigato

In a flash the whole ship was surrounded in brilliant pink light. The lights on the bridge flickered. The engine whirred to a frenzy. Everyone’s skin tingled. Mal’s nipples hardened. And as quickly as it started, it finished. The pink energy vanished, and Serenity was once again parked staring blankly at the hijacked Alliance cruiser.

“What the fuck was that?” Jayne asked.

“I – don’t – know,” Wash stuttered finding himself curiously drawn to look toward Simon.

“Kaylee,” Mal said without taking his eyes off Jayne. “How are the engines?”

“I’ll go take a look,” Kaylee responded in a monotone voice.

“I’ll help,” Inara said running after Kaylee toward the engine room.

“Now what?” Simon asked.

“I need a nap,” Mal said.

“Me too, Cap’n,” Zoë replied leaving the bridge alone.

“Jayne, can I get your help with this thing in my quarters,” Mal said.

Jayne nodded silently and followed the captain off the bridge, leaving Simon alone on the bridge with Wash at the helm.

“I repeat,” Simon began. “Now what?” He started absentmindedly rubbing Wash’s shoulders.

“Well, for starters,” Wash replied, “you can keep doing what you’re doing, Doctor.”

Simon did as directed and continued rubbing the pilot’s shoulders. Soon, his surgical fingers were running through Wash’s blonde hair, massaging his scalp. Simon closed his eyes totally lost in the moment, totally oblivious to the danger that was staring them in the face.

Wash swiveled his chair around so he was facing Simon’s vested chest. He looked up at him and their eyes met each other. Simon leaned down and kissed Wash firm on the lips. They broke their embrace panting and gasping for air. Simon ripped his vest off; buttons flew around the bridge like bullets. Wash responded by shedding the good doctor of his shirt, while Simon unfastened his trousers. Soon Simon was naked gazing upon Wash. Wash dropped his over-shirt and unzipped his coveralls. Simon dick hardened when he saw that underneath Wash was completely naked and that he was a natural blonde.

Simon made the first move and dropped to his knees in front of Wash, taking his whole cock easily into his mouth. Wash played with Simon’s hair and moaned with delight. Slowly, so as not to interrupt Simon’s surprisingly good technique, Wash lowered himself to the floor, and soon the two men were in a sixty-nine position on the floor of the bridge.

Meanwhile…

Jayne and Mal were in a similar position in the Captain’s Quarters. Muffled groans escaped their mouths. The bed creaked with the motion of the men in heat. Mal felt his impending orgasm approach and removed his mouth from the mercenary’s cock.

“Jayne, stop or I’m gonna cum.”

Jayne complied, but said nothing.

“Roll over,” Mal ordered. “I’m gonna fuck this load into you.”

Jayne complied, but said nothing.

Mal took a moment to examine Jayne’s perfect ass displayed before him. Covered in a dark fur, much like the rest of him. He took the firm globes in his hands and spread them apart, revealing the entrance to Jayne’s rectum.

“Looks like I’m going to have to get you ready first,” Mal teased.

The captain moved his head down and began licking Jayne’s ass. Jayne humped his dick into Mal’s bed moving his ass up and down against Mal’s face. Soon, Mal’s tongue was deep inside his chute, and Jayne was groaning in sheer pleasure. Once Jayne’s asshole was sufficiently wet, Mal stopped the rimming and spit on his own cock. Jayne turned his head to see the captain’s meat. Mal rushed forward and thrust his cock deep inside him in one smooth stroke.

Jayne yelped in pain, and Mal held still. He waited almost a full minute before slowly moving his hips to push his cock deeper inside Jayne. Soon, Mal was fucking him at full force, and Jayne was feeling no pain.

“You ready for my load, soldier?” Mal asked.

Jayne groaned a wordless affirmative, and Mal stepped up the pace. His hefty balls slapping against Jayne’s. Mal yelled and slammed deeper into Jayne, which both of them did not think was possible. The force of his orgasm caused Mal to spill out of Jayne, his cum oozing onto the bed.

Jayne shucked the captain off his back and stood straddling him on the bed. Jayne fisted his beefy cock fast and furiously. In mere seconds, Jayne was shouting to the heavens and cum was raining down on Mal. Jayne collapsed next to Mal and passed out.
Mal laid silently sticky in the quarters that stank of man sex.

Elsewhere on the ship…

Kaylee hadn’t bothered to get the engines started. She and Inara made it to the engine room, but they had succumbed to the same fate as the others. Pure lust took them over, and without another thought about the Domo or the ship or impending doom, the ladies fucked as only ladies can.

Back on the bridge…

Wash had Simon bent over his pilot’s seat and was fucking him hard and fast. He was holding on to the doctor’s shoulder with one hand and his hair with the other, lost in a pleasure that he had never known with his wife. The bridge was filled with an electric energy that can only be produced by two men fucking, and Simon and Wash fed off it.

“Simon?” Wash grunted.

“What?” Simon replied pushing his ass back onto Wash’s dick.

“You want a turn?”

“Fuck yeah!”

Wash pulled his dripping cock out of Simon’s hole, and the men exchanged places. Simon’s dick was oozing so much precum that lube was the last thing from his mind. He easily slipped his cock inside Wash and began fucking him.

The pilot and the doctor kept on each other for as long as they could. But finally, Simon shot his seed on Wash’s back while Wash drenched the floor with a load of his own. Together, they collapsed to the floor panting heavily. Unfortunately, neither of them noticed that during their tryst, the hijacked Alliance cruiser began moving and now, it was encroaching painfully close to Serenity.

The Chosen One

Zoë did not adjourn to the quarters that she shared with Wash as she had intended. Instead, she ventured into Inara’s shuttle. There she was able to access the Cortex using the companion’s credentials and read up on The Domo.

“Ah ha!” she yelled in the empty shuttle.

Just then Inara returned home, but she was not alone.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing in my shuttle?” Inara asked.

“There’s no time to explain,” Zoë said. “But you have to go to sleep.”

“Sounds good to me,” Kaylee agreed.

“Alone,” Zoë ordered.

“But…” Kaylee whined.

“Just trust me. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

Zoë saw that Inara went to bed and escorted Kaylee to her own room. Her next stop was the bridge. Wash and Simon were no where to be found. Zoë grabbed the intercom, pressed the button, and spoke.

“Attention!” She yelled. “This is Zoë. I know what’s going on. The Domo have a new weapon and you are all under its control.” She paused for a bit to let the news sink in to the crew. “You must go to sleep. Alone. A full six hours of sleep is all that is required to get rid of the effects of the Electric Barbarella Ray. So, this is an order. I’m taking over the ship. Everyone go to bed in their own quarters. I’ll wake you when it’s safe.”

Jayne left Mal, still naked, asleep in his bed and returned to his quarters. Simon and Wash lay cuddled together in the bed that the pilot shared with his wife. Inara tossed and turned in a restless state on the cusp of slumber. Kaylee sat nude on her own bed, arms crossed, plotting ways to get back at Zoë for disrupting her time with Inara. Zoë examined the controls that her husband knew so well, trying to see if she could get the ship moving again.

The Domo’s ship marched silently closer and closer to Serenity. It took Zoë mere moments to realize that Kaylee had not started the engines as ordered earlier, and she ran through the ship to start them.

The Domo’s ship held its course. Zoë managed to get the engines started. She was running back toward the bridge when she ran head on into Jayne leaving Mal’s quarters wearing only his tattered underwear.

“You can go ahead and touch your cock, now, sir,” Jayne said into the room.

“Jayne!!!” Zoë screamed. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You’re supposed to be asleep! That’s the only way!”

“But…”

“There’s no time!” Zoë shoved past Jayne and yelled, “get back to your quarters and stay there!”

Jayne stood silently in the corridor mindlessly stroking his left nipple.

Zoë arrived back on the bridge just in time to see the look on the man at the helm of the Domo’s ship as they docked with Serenity.

“Oh Fuck.” She said to no one.

The ship shook for a second as the Domo’s docking clamps latched to Serenity’s hull. Zoë panicked for about a second and a half. Then, she hit the “Ignition” button and thrust the throttle lever all the way forward.

Serenity groaned in pain, at the same time that Wash groaned with pleasure as Simon entered him for the third time that night. The two men laid in Wash and Zoë’s bed. Simon’s chest pressed tightly against Wash’s back. His arm draped over Wash’s chest. His fingers studying Wash’s nipples intently. Slowly and rhythmically, Simon fucked him. Sliding his cock in all the way to the balls and pulling it out so far that only his head touched Wash’s stretched sphincter. With each stroke Wash groaned. Simon kept his steady rhythm not wanting to ever leave this moment.

Zoë’s effort at last paid off, and Serenity broke free of her rapist taking a sizeable chunk of the Domo’s ship with her. Zoë saw the hostile pilot in her window. His face went from triumph to terror instantly. Zoë waved her good-bye as the ship quickly turned into a speck on the view screen.

Zoë sat alone on the bridge. Would the others even remember this night? She wondered. Will I be able to tell them that the Domo had poisoned them into thinking that they were all horny homosexuals with an electromagnetic pulse? Why wasn’t I affected? Will everything be alright?

“I can answer that question for you,” a perky female voice said from no where.

“Who the hell are you?” Zoë asked the empty bridge.

A blue and white breezeless tornado of light appeared in front of her. Zoë flinched at the sight, expecting to be blown away by its force. She wasn’t, and she watched in awe as a beautiful brunette woman wearing a floor-length white evening gown materialized from nothingness.

“Everything’s going to be just fine,” the woman said.

“You haven’t answered my question,” Zoë said. “Who are you?”

“Don’t you recognize me?” The woman replied. She paused a bit thinking and continued,

“Duh. Of course you don’t. I’m Cordelia Chase.”

“Where did you come from? What happened here tonight?” Zoë babbled. “I have so many questions.”

“Zoë,” Cordelia began patiently. “I’m one of The Powers That Be.” Cordelia sauntered up next to Zoë and put her arm around her. “Your friends…and Jayne…won’t remember anything that happened tonight in the morning. That is, if there is a morning to wake up to.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I was testing you, Zoë,” Cordelia explained. “I’ve been watching you, waiting for when the time was right.”

“So, this was just a test,” Zoë was clearly trying to wrap her head around what Cordelia was tying to say. “And this Domo thing…you did that?”

“Sort of…the Domo are real. Their threat to the Outer Rim is real too, but I sent them here as a test for you—to see if you could save your friends…and Jayne...on your own. And you passed.”

“So what now?” Zoë asked. “And what about this whole ‘if there is a morning’ thing?”

“I can explain,” Cordelia replied. “But not here.”

Cordelia waved her arms in a big circle three times and in another cyclone of light, both Zoë and Cordelia were gone.

To Be Continued…

Blog Sorting

2009-09-02T21:20:00.002-04:00

Since I have decided that I am going to be posting my personal journal stuff here instead of over at the LJ. I thought it would be nice to add a couple of links over on the side bar.

Look over at the right...

If you only want to read Maplethorpe Ridge or if you just want the personal posts, simply click the appropriate link on the right. No need to sort through miscellaneous crap, when you can have the interwebs do it for you.

Anyway, enjoy. I am still working on Chapter 1, but it will get posted up soon. Sorry for the delays there.

Depression and Fear

2009-09-02T20:08:00.002-04:00

I read shit like this, and I know deep in my soul that that is exactly why I do not do drugs. If I were to ever kill myself (yes, the debate is still on, I guess, as to whether or not DJAM committed suicide), that is how I would do it. Lots of drugs and then just fall asleep.

I wont do it, because of many reasons. Mostly fear. And my cat.

There are days when Im so depressed that I can barely function. Today was one of those days, and I can just feel that tomorrow will be more of the same. I read that article this morning, and of course, being how I am, I couldnt get it out of my head all day at work.

But yeah. I dont know what to do with myself tonight, so I decided to ramble in the blog. I have zero motivation for anything; it was such a struggle at work to accomplish anything, but I did.

Im not entirely sure how Im going to snap myself out of this funk. There is just too much change going on at work. The mood has shifted. I dont like it at all. More friends are leaving my life, due to some bizarre circumstances. Im struggling to come up with a plan for the rest of my life, and I know that my time at this job is coming to a close soon (in the next few years), and I have to be ready to move on. But Im not ready to move on, and I dont really want to, either.

Okay. No one wants to read this shit.

Mind Games

2009-08-30T20:14:00.002-04:00

My phone rang a bit ago.

It was my mother. I didnt answer it. Rarely do I ever actually answer my phone. In the two minutes that followed, my mind had convinced myself that my father had died in a horrible accident.

I waited a few minutes to see if she would leave a message. No message ever came. So, I called her back, fearing the worst.

Turns out, she was trying to buy shoes online and was having trouble with the website.

Yeah. Im special. I have no idea why I get these thoughts. I just do. This isnt he first time that this scenario has played out like this. I just wish that I would jump to the worst conclusion every time.

In completely unrelated news, I spilled grape soda on my laptop at work yesterday. LOADS OF FUN! However, I (and a friend) was able to get it cleaned up and popped off some keys and cleaned soda out of the inside of my computer. Well, tonight, I just noticed that the apostrophe key doesnt work. See what I mean? Thats definitely going to make things interesting for writing on here. Not to mention doing Excel spreadsheets for work or all those other occasions where one wants apostrophes and quotation marks.

Sheesh. I guess Im lucky that my computer still works and that its not sticky or anything. Its just frustrating.

Writing Wednesday Waiting

2009-08-26T19:25:00.001-04:00

Things have just snowballed this week, so I'm having unfortunately put this week's Writing Wednesday on hold. I so hope to get the rest of Chapter 1 cranked out this week. Damn this having a life outside of writing!

Getting a little personal

2009-08-24T22:03:00.002-04:00

This has nothing really to do with Maplethorpe Ridge, other than to say that I didn't follow through on my plan to write more yesterday.

Really, I'm thinking of moving my personal journaling from Livejournal to here. LJ seems to be slowly dying (at least to me). And Facebook is WAY too public for my taste. And I'm just in the mood to wax introspectively, and this seemed like as good a place as any for that.

My depression has been in full bloom lately. I know this, because I can't focus on anything. I'm bored all the time at home, but I don't really want to do anything. I'm tired, but I can't sleep. I don't eat. And I'm dwelling in the past. None of which are really good things, for sure. But worst of all, I popped open that last Guinness in the fridge tonight, and as I sit here swigging from that tempting dark bottle and feeling that delicious elixir spill on my tongue, I have to ask myself: was there ever a wagon to begin with?

Let's backpedal for a bit. I had "quit" drinking a while back. The quotes are merely to illustrate that my point is not that I have a total drinking problem but what's more of a moderation problem. As with most things in my life, I have no idea where "The Line" is. So, I promised to myself to never again drink alone. There was a day when a dirty Sapphire martini or three was part of my everyday routine. I realized that this was both expensive and unhealthy -- physically, mentally, and emotionally. However, I had allowed myself to drink with friends, and seeing as how I only see my friends once or twice per year, this was a good plan.

But I had a reconnection with a potential friend (slash ex-lover) back in December, so I bought some beer and he brought over a pizza. That was the last time I had a drink, and I was okay with that. There have been occasions with alcohol involved, and I said no and was fine. But tonight, that last Guinness in the fridge was taunting me, and even though she was from December, she tastes so delectable. Taunting me back to my days of excess and debauchery. But I know where my line is, and because I can feel my Tylenol PM kicking in (I know, mixing with alcohol is bad) and this is the only alcohol in the house, this is it.

Of course, this has me worried about tomorrow. Will tomorrow's sorrows drive me to the liquor store on my way home from work? Can I submit without commitment? The Guinness is only half gone, and I'm already feeling swirly and good and warm and loved. Gone are the days of the three martini dinner.

What has brought me to this pseudo-breaking point? Any number of things, really. Dwelling on loves of the past. Worry over future failure and disappointment, sure. Really? It's a longing. A deep seeded longing that I keep buried and locked away. Something inside me that craves. A craving for what? Love. Human touch. Just an implication that things will get better.

There's a constant worry, sometimes expressed, in all facets of my life. Am I good enough at my job to advance to the next level? Will people read my story or heaven forbid, like it? Is that guy who works downstairs flirting or is he just being friendly? Am I going insane?

Of course, the adage goes that if you can ask that then the answer is "no". But I worry that the voice in my head isn't my voice. Is that reasonable? Is it a fractured part of me longing to be heard or is it simply my own unconsciousness pointing me in the proper direction?

There are two halves of myself that fight for attention from my conscious. I worry about that. Who wins? Should one win, or should I try to broker a peace between them and try to have the best of both worlds? Can two very disparate halves coexist separately together, or must, by their very nature, they war until one is destroyed in favor of the other?

And how does that affect my writing? Does playing God in a fictional world of my own creation help my depression or do I play God because I'm depressed? See, I worry. Does my fictional world help me release my depression or does it aid in keeping me depressed? I used to believe that my writing would not be as good if I didn't feel so miserable in my own life. But then, who's to judge what's good and what's not good? If I'm the judge, then nothing I do is ever good, or good enough. But clearly things that I've done are actually good in someone's eyes, or I would not be where I am today?

Mostly, I fear that this is all there is. This, this life of solitude and sorrow is all that I will ever experience, because my fear of living fully is holding me back. I long for change, yet I fear it. I yearn to be loved, yet I push others away. Am I consciously holding myself back from getting what I want, because I want to be miserable? Or am I only being prudent in my decisions not to act so as not to get hurt through the "obvious" (real or imagined) outcome? Playing it safe is a scary place to live.

And this brings me to the age old question: how do I expect someone to love me when I do not (or cannot) love myself? And that is it. Nail, meet hammer. Does loving someone and losing them hurt more than not loving anyone? I don't know. In the short term, yes, probably. In the long term: I think the jury is still out on that one.

But in the immortal words of Shirley Manson: "I'm only happy when it rains."

And this, my friends, is another reason why I don't drink.

Contact Info

2009-08-22T21:35:00.002-04:00

Hey guys. I know that I should be writing some more on my story. If all goes according to plan, I'll get some more done tomorrow and hopefully finish Chapter 1. However, I thought that I'd throw this out there. If you've ever got the urge to contact me for any reason, you should. I'm open to it. Share your thoughts, or if you're just bored and want to chat. You can email me at ephram.delMoniq@gmail.com or IM me on Yahoo IM (ephram.delmoniq). I'm usually online when I'm working on the blog or up for a chat.

Maplethorpe Ridge -- Road Map

2009-08-19T21:19:00.003-04:00

Chapter I - Welcome to Nolan (Part 2)

2009-08-19T19:21:00.002-04:00

Blake knocked on the door to the apartment directly under hers. A dark haired man answered the door. "Hi. My name is Blake Montgomery," she stuttered out, obviously overpowered by his good looks.

"Hello, Blake Montgomery; my name is Adrian Connor. What can I do for you?" She mumbled about she and Jen living upstairs and that his music was a tad too loud. Adrian said that he did not think that anyone lived in the apartment above him. Then, he asked her in for a drink.

Yes, you heard right -- Adrian Connor. Adrian is the middle child of Linda and Nicolas Connor. Totally hot by any woman's standard, yet totally unavailable; although, Blake had no way of knowing that when her new neighbor made her heart skip a beat and butterflies tickle her inside. Adrian was trying to make a go of it on his own without his family's money. He loved his mother very much, but being the black sheep of his family, his father was always disapproving of anything he did. Adrian had his work cut out for him, but for now, he was content to share some wine with Blake and get to know his new neighbor.

*****

Both Tyler and Cody donated blood at the hospital for Crystal, and both of them were incompatible with Crystal's blood. All they could do was sit with her and hold her hands, while she lay unconscious in her hospital bed. Within mere moments, the somber mood in the room was broken with the entrance of a nurse bearing news. Someone had come to the hospital and donated enough blood to help Crystal, and the blood was a match. The two men watched as Dr. Gladstone and the nurse attached the clear vinyl pouches of life to Crystal's IV. Almost immediately, they could see a difference in Crystal's condition.

Tyler and Cody wanted to meet and thank the mysterious donor, but he had already left the hospital by the time the nurse came with the blood. They asked for his name and telephone number, but the nurse said that the donor wished to remain anonymous. This was a strange, but not uncommon, hospital occurrence.

Once the transfusion was complete, Crystal opened her eyes, looked at her husband, and smiled.

*****

Linda Connor arrived at Crystal's hospital room in time to watch Crystal and her husband kiss after the transfusion. Cody greeter her in the hall and filled her in on the news, the irony of which was not lost on Cody. This thought made him giggle as he held the door open for Linda. She brought a large flower arrangement and sat in on the nightstand by the bed. She put her hands on Tyler's shoulders and told him that she was glad that all went well. They discussed the mysterious donor, and Tyler asked her how she knew that Crystal was in the hospital. Linda showed him the newspaper with Crystal's picture on the front page. Cody added that it was a good thing there was an article in teh paper, because that was probably how the mysterious donor found out about Crystal.

Linda wished them all well and left for work. As she rounded the corner and slipped out of sight, Nick peered out from the storage closet and walked to Crystal's room. He did not open the door. Instead, he looked in the window. Crystal saw him, and they exchanged heated glances.

*****

Blake stepped inside Adrian's apartment. It was an exact copy of her and Jen's apartment upstairs, and it was decorated quite spartanly. A single painting hung in the living room. There was minimal furniture, but there was still enough floor Blake to be comfortable. Adrian poured two glasses of wine and they sat on the sofa, talked, and played some music.

There was a knock on the door. Adrian answered, still holding his glass of wine. A beautiful blonde in her early 20s stood there looking very angry and tapping her foot.

"Excuse me, but your music is too loud. I live upstairs, and it's rattling the entire floor. Could you please turn it down?"

"Jen? Jen, is that you?" Blake asked from inside the apartment. Blake appeared standing behind the young man in the doorway. Blake introduced Adrian to Jen, and Adrian asked her in to join them. Jen explained that both she and Blake had lots of unpacking to do, but the offer was nice. "We'll have to make it some other night," Jen uttered politely, yet firmly. Adrian closed the door, and Blake could not take her eyes off of it.

"So, you meant to tell me that while I was up there -- cleaning and unpacking -- you were downstairs drinking wine with the cute neighbor?"

"Exactly!" Blake retorted.

"Way to go girl!" Jen shouted and high-fived her roommate. Tehy made dinner and watched a movie. Later that night, Blake fell asleep with visions of Adrian runner through her head. Needless to say, she slept well.

*****

Nick broke the stare with Crystal, turned to leave, and smacked right into a nurse carrying a tray of food bound for Crystal's room. The nurse dropped the tray with a loud bang. A curious Cody came into the corridor and saw Nick standing there with his shirt covered in lime-flavored gelatin. "What are you doing here?" He asked, laughing.

"I read about Mrs. McMannis in the paper, and I wanted to come by and see how my wife's friend was doing. I have a right to be concerned," Nick replied with what he thought was an appropriate level of detached concern.

"There's no room here for YOUR type of concern!" Cody bellowed.

Tyler appeared in the doorway and asked the two of them to keep it down. "She's in a very delicate state now. I think you should leave." Tyler sounded both exhausted and annoyed. Nick conceded and left, and Cody joined Tyler back in Crystal's room. She had fallen asleep. Dr. Gladstone checked on Crystal, and told Tyler and Cody to go home and get some rest.

*****

Nick stood outside his front door for a good two minutes dreading teh inevitable conversation with his wife. The solid white painted, scalloped steel door stared back at him with its chrome peephole, daring him to enter. When his resolve had been set, he showed teh door who was boss and flicked the lever that opened the latch on the handle. The door fell open on the hinges, and Linda was standing there with a disgusted look on her face. "What the hell, woman!" She managed the upper hand of surprise against her husband. "Where you just camped out by the door waiting for me to get home?"

"Shut up." Linda spoke calmly, despite her boiling anger beneath the surface. "Why didn't you just tell me? Christ, she's my friend! Why do you even care about her? Couldn't you have told me without making me read it in the fucking paper!" She punctuated her last sentence by hitter her husband with the exact "fucking paper" to which she was referring.

*****

Quinn sat down in his standard hotel room that smelled of both bleach and cigarette smoke and flipped through the paper. He grabbed the scissors and cut out the article about Crystal, put it in an envelope, and addressed it to Alabama.

*****

Throughout the night, Dr. Gladstone looked in on Crystal. He kept tabs on her, and he even began to wonder why Nick Connor had been there earlier that afternoon. Thomas Gladstone moved to Nolan only the year before. He knew that Nick was a lawyer who was often called away on business to San Diego -- which meant that he must be a fairly good lawyer. He also knew that his wife, Linda, was the anchorwoman for the evening news at Channel 4. But he could not figure out how they knew Crystal. He speculated that they must be neighbors or something, and went about his rounds.

*****

Blake woke up at quarter to eight and went for her daily three-mile run. On the way out the door, she bumped into Adrian (literally), and the two of them decided to run together. They stopped at the convenience store that marked the mile-and-a-half point where they would turn around and run back to the apartment. Adrian decided that he needed to use the restroom, so Blake bought a blue-raspberry squishy, and waited on the bench outside.

*****

Jennifer woke up from a very, very nice dream at around eight-fifteen. She made some breakfast, which consisted of toast, eggs, cereal, and juice, and took a shower. She got dressed and headed for the hospital. While she was driving, she passed the convenience store and saw Adrian sitting on the bench outside and waved at him. He just gave her a concerned look and raised his hand. If Jen hadn't already been late for work, she would have stopped to talk to him.

When she arrived at the hospital, Jen checked in with Dr. Gladstone, whom she met during her first week of work. Thomas told her about Crystal, and explained that she was the most exciting thing to happen at University Hospital for quite some time, especially when nick showed up and argued with Cody. Jen checked in with her head nurse, then sat down and played checkers with Irene, who insisted on yelling at Jen to "Hurry up!"

Linda stopped by the hospital long before Cody and Tyler ever showed up that morning. Crystal was asleep, but Linda stayed and talked with her anyway, all the while stroking her hair. There was a kind of dialogue between the two that no one could decipher by just being in the room. Linda talked to Crystal, and Crystal answered, unfortunately, Linda could not hear her.

"I don't know how to do about Nick, Crys. He doesn't seem to care any more. He goes to work and defends people he's never met before, but he doesn't even have tim to have a conversation with me," Linda explained.

I understand why, Crystal answered in her dream mind. I know Nick. He's not the type to share what's bothering him. You should let him be.

"I can feel him slipping away," Linda continued. "Last week, I told him that I was seeing another man, and he said 'That's nice, dear' and kissed me on the forehead. ON THE FOREHEAD, that's like a punch in the gut."

If I knew what Nick had done, I would punch him in the gut. You should just give up on him, Linda. You can do better. I think that Dr. Gladstone is available; why don't you ask him out?

"I realize that he's had a tough case he's been working on in San Diego these past months," Linda went on, oblivious to Crystal's half of the conversation. "But that's not an excuse for him to treat me like shit. I think that if I can just hang in there, things will get better soon."

Don't count on it honey, Crystal warned.

"Just like I know that things will get better for you soon, too." With that, Linda kissed her friend and left.

*****

Adrian went back into the convenience store and asked the clerk if she had seen Blake. She said that Blake had been sitting on the bench while he was in the restroom. Then, she looked out again and she was gone.

"Maybe she got paged and had to leave. Or, maybe she thought that I left ahead of her so that I would beat her back home," he told himself as he started running back. "I bet when I get back to Maplethorpe, Blake will be sitting on the porch waiting for me with a big glass of lemonade." As he ran, he kept trying to convince himself that Blake would be there, but when he got there, she wasn't. He went inside and knocked on her door, where he found a note...

Jen--

I've gone to visit my parents in San Diego. My grandmother is very ill and Mother fears that she may not have much time left. Don't expect me to call, but keep us in your thoughts.
Always,
Blake

Adrian considered this a rather odd place for a very personal note, so he slipped it under the door.

*****

At the hospital, Jen ran into Tyler and Cody. When Tyler went in to see his wive, Cody asked Jen out for drinks when she got off from work. Jena accepted and told him to come back to the hospital and pick her up at 7pm. when Jen rounded the corner, to continue on her rounds, Nick propped his head out of the closet. He saw Cody, walked up behind him, and tapped him on his shoulder. When Cody turned around, Nick clocked him: punched him square in the left eye. Cody buckled but not before he punched Nick right in the gut. The pair of punches erupted into a brawl between the two men. Luckily, Jen was still nearby and ran back to stop it. She asked Nick to leave, and he did, but not before he gave his parting remarks, like a haunting Gypsy curse, he yelled, "You shouldn't even be allowed near her, Weber! You will pay for what you've done!"

Cody tried to utter a clever rebuttal, but his face hurt too much. All he could produce was a meek grunt of disgust. Luckily for him, he was injured in the hospital. Jen got a nurse to check him out, and she asked him if they were still on for drinks that night. Cody nodded a tired yes.

*****

Cody was standing at the main door to the hospital when Jen staggered out at quarter past seven. She apologized, and then Cody drove her Scully's for a drink. Over drinks, Jen asked Cody about the incident between him and Mr. Connor. Cody said that he had done some things in his past of which he was no very proud, but that Nick Connor was a hundred times worse. Cody expressed his sympathy for Linda and said that someone should buy her a clue. Jen asked if his past involved Crystal McMannis. Because of the amount of bourbon that was poured into Cody's system, he admitted that he and Nick were fighting about Crystal. "ever since last summer we fight over Crystal. Tyler doesn't have a clue. And I pray to God that he never gets one."

Jen made it home all right; although, she was feeling her drinks quite happily. She opened the door marked "4G" with her key and stepped inside. On the floor she found a note. She read it, put it back on the floor, and sat on the couch. Sometime during the next twenty minutes, she fell over and asleep.

Maplethorpe Ridge -- Road Map

2009-08-10T19:04:00.003-04:00

So, thinking about how this blog is going to roll out, I decided that we really need a road map to keep people reading the story chronologically and to try to avoid accidentally reading ahead. After I post a new bit of the story, I'll post the Road Map with links to and dates for all the posted parts of the story. Hopefully, this will work and not be too confusing.

Prologue -- Aug 6, 2009
Chapter I - Welcome to Nolan (Part 1) -- Aug 10, 2009

Chapter I - Welcome to Nolan (Part 1)

2009-08-09T22:03:00.009-04:00

Jennifer Logan and Blake Montgomery, best friends for the past four years of college, pulled up to the U-shaped apartment building on Saint James Street on a rather balmy Saturday afternoon, well balmy by Nevada standards anyway. They began unloading their possessions from the moving truck and into their fourth floor apartment, and with the help of Blake's cousin Lucas, the job was done in just under two hours.

I wasn't there for this part, so the details are scares, only what I gathered along the way talking to Jen and Blake about their arrival in town. And Lucas wasn't exactly Blake's cousin. Lucas was Blake's father's cousin, but that's just details. Point is, they're related, and that's how these two girls coming from their small mid-western university managed to find such a great deal on a kick-ass apartment in suburban Las Vegas. Blake's parents lived in San Diego at the time. Close enough to drive, but far enough for comfort. Her mother -- Evelyn -- was a real controlling bitch; she and I actually crossed paths in a very unusual way, but that's another story for another time. Blake's mother didn't really realize that her three daughters had grown up around her. She was busy climbing the corporate ladder. Blake's father -- Robyn -- on the other hand, was the complete opposite of Evelyn. He loved all of his daughters, and some people might even say that he spoiled them, but Blake didn't turn out like a spoiled little daddy's girl. She was only twenty-two, but she had the makings of a real lady.

So, Blake and Jen moved to Nolan, Nevada, and up-and-coming suburb of Las Vegas, only three days after graduating from Gilman University. Jen earned her degree in psychology and finished top in her class. This earned her an internship at Nolan University Hospital, which just happened to be the best hospital in Las Vegas. Strange thing is, there is no Nolan University, nor is the hospital located within the Nolan town limits.

Once, I asked why the hospital was called Nolan University Hospital, and the answer rather surprised me. Turns out that back in the late 1950s there was a man by the name of Stephen X. Nolan. He donated a large sum of money to the University of Nevada to start a teaching hospital. Stephen X. Nolan's great-great-grandfather, Eli X. Nolan, Jr. actually helped found the town of Nolan, which ended up being about six miles south of the location that Stephen X. Nolan purchased for his hospital. Anyway, I have digressed long enough, such is the mind of an old lady with a story to tell.

Blake Montgomery graduated with Jennifer with a B.A. in English. This earned her absolutely nothing, which is hwy she tagged along with Jennifer on her quest across the county to start her career. Well, that and her family was mostly near by as well. Blake's plan was to pound the pavement, so to speak, to find herself a rewarding career, or at least a job to help pay the bills.

*****

Tyler McMannis lived in the best neighborhood in Nolan. Wycliffe was almost a suburb within a suburb. Wycliffe consisted of maybe two square miles of cliff-perched property. Many of the homes had spectacular views overlooking the city. It had the snobbiest shops and boutiques with the snobbiest sales girls. Wycliffe boasted the best restaurants, and the best schools in the district, which is a good thing, because Tyler's wife -- Crystal -- was pregnant, and although she didn't know it yet, she was also on the cusp of giving birth. But putting Crystal aside for a moment and looking at all that Wycliffe has to offer begs the question, how can Tyler -- a local police detective -- afford to live there? Another bit of story for another time.

Tyler was pure Irish through and through. Apparently, his father was the first McMannis to be born in the United States. And even thoguh he had no accent, just looking at him you could think that he was fresh off the boat from the old country. He was ruggedly handsome with a bit of rose in his cheeks, even when he hadn't been in the whiskey, and shoulder-length strawberry blond curls that perfectly complimented his green eyes. It's no wonder that Crystal the blond bombshell and former southern belle fell hard for him. Tyler had been a detective for only two weeks when Crystal had her accident.

Remembering her now after all the details came to light, I'm tempted to believe that what happened to Crystal was no accident, but at the time, no one (myself included) suspected any foul play. And Crystal and Tyler both stuck to their story.

Crystal had fallen down the stairs in her twenty-third week of pregnancy. Just looking at Crystal McMannis walking down the street, one would think that she was almost a full two weeks past her due date. But she was thin, and she was carrying twins. She and Tyler had not wanted to know the sex of the babies, so they had yet to settle on names. That evening, Tyler accompanies his wife on her bed rest following her accident, and together they discussed what names each of them preferred. Crystal was adamantly informing her husband that if they had girls she was not naming them Betty and Veronica, when Tyler's phone rang.

"Tyler!" The man on the other end of the phone shouted.

"Cody," Tyler tried not to sound too annoyed that Cody was calling him late in the evening. "What's up?"

"i was just getting ready to leave the station after I filed this last report, and I just wanted to know if you wanted to join me for a drink over at Scully's."

"I can't," Tyler replied. "You know that i have to be here for Crystal." He talked about his wife right in front of her like she wasn't in the room. Crystal rolled her eyes at her husband. And why Cody was trying to convince Tyelr to join him at the bar, Crystal tapped her husband on the shoulder. "Go. Go have a drink with Cody. I'll be fine," she whispered. Tyler gave his wife a look. You sure? His eyes said. She nodded, and she could clearly hear Cody prodding Tyler through the earpiece.

"Alright, alright," Tyler submitted to Cody at last. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

Tyler hung up the phone, pulled on his pants, and found his jacket on the floor. Crystal grabbed her book from the beside table and propped it on her belly. Tyler made it to the bottom of the stairs and began to put on his shoes when he heard Crystal scream from the master bedroom.

"Tyler, something's wrong!" Crystal bellowed. Tyler called 9-1-1 while running to his wife's side. Twenty minutes later, Crystal was whisked into the emergency room of Nolan University Hospital. Luckily for her, her doctor was on duty that night, so she was in good hands. Shew as in need of an operation, and Tyler took a moment to make a phone call. After all, Cody was a friend to both of them, and he should be there.

Cody Weber. Even now, his name sparks feelings inside me. Cody and I had a history. Don't worry; I'll get there. Cody was one of the two Weber children. The Webers have owned the mansion on the hill at the top of the cliff overlooking all of Nolan and the southern end of Las Vegas since before Eli X. Nolan , Jr. was even a twinkle in his daddy's eye. At this time in his life, Cody still lived in that stately mansion on the hill. He lived there with his grandparents: Rosailnd -- Rose to everyone that knew her -- and Marcus (only the newspapers and business magazines called him Marcus Weber, and even then it was usually to say "Marcus Weber the multi-billion-dollar advertising mogul"; everyone knew him as just Marc). Cody's parents -- Doug and Carol -- were absent most of Cody's young life and nearly all of his adult life. At the ripe old age of twenty-five, Cody had the attitude and mindset of a seventeen-year-old boy. Of course, it worked for him. He had more money than he knew what to do with, and the looks of one of those underwear models on teh life-sized posters at the mall. He could have any woman he wanted, and he had. He became a police officer for three reasons: (1) to give him something to do, (2) because chicks dig the uniform, and (3) it's hard to get in trouble with the law when you are the law. Cody often used this last line on the naive looking girls at Scully's as an entryway into their pants.

Cody and Tyler had been partners since he was a rookie, and they could have made it to detective at the same time had Cody not been such a sub-standard police officer. The only reason that Cody was still in uniform was because Rose donated sizeable amounts of money to the police department each year -- enough money to pay her grandson's salary, as it turns out. Cody either didn't realize it or didn't care.

Cody arrived at the hospital to find Tyler pacing around the waiting area outside the operating room. He gave his best friend a hug, and Tyler filled him in on the goings on. Dr. Gladstone arrived from the OR about an hour later and told them that Crystal had lost a lot of blood and that the twins -- although premature and small -- would be alright.

Dr. Thomas Gladstone was the best OB/GYN at University Hospital. He was very popular among the staff, and buzz around the water cooler had pegged him as a future chief of staff. At this point in my tale, Thomas is not yet a major player. But trust me; this hunky gyno is definitely not just another pretty face. But I'll get to that in due time. But for now, I need to get the ball rolling.

*****

Blake and Jen spent the next few days getting settled into their new place, as well as trying to find Blake a job. While Blake was unpacking boxes in the living room, the floor of their apartment started vibrating. Jen was out for her daily run, so Blake took it upon herself to walk downstairs and introduce herself to her new neighbor.

*****

Back in the days of the beginning of my story, there were two extremely wealthy families living in the Nolan area. I've already mentioned the Webers. The other family is the Connors -- the anti-Webers. Nicolas connor was new money through and through. No one really knew how Nick made his fortune, but everyone suspected that it was through dirty dealings. I tend to agree on that one, especially through my time interacting with the Connors. Nick's wife -- Linda -- was hardly your run of the mill millionaire housewife. She lived her life according to what she wanted to do, for the most part. She had a job as anchorwoman on the local news at KYDQ. It wasn't network, not in those days anyway, but it was good enough for Linda, and everyone in Nolan (most of the greater Las Vegas area too) tuned in at 4, 5, 6, and 11 to hear what Linda had to say.

Both Nick and Linda were in their mid 40s, and they had been married ever since Linda graduated from college. They raised three children in their house that over the years grew into a sprawling estate on the south edge of town. Nick and Linda were an odd couple. Everyone in town at the time knew who they were and everyone wondered what Linda saw in her husband. But she loved him, and so they forgave her for her horrible taste in men.

That morning started as any other morning did on the Connor Estate. All of their children were grown and out of the house, and the quiet bothered Linda if she stopped long enough to listen to it. The cook prepared her usual breakfast buffet, and Nick and Linda sat at opposite ends of a very long table, eating in silence.

Linda looked up from her eggs to Nick staring at the paper -- not reading, staring. "Nick, what's wrong?" Nick mumbled something and looked at his watch. he stumbled to his feet, kissed his wife on the forehead, put the paper on the table, and walked out the door. Linda grabbed the paper, out of curiosity of what could mesmerize her husband. The paper was open to a photo of Crystal Blaire-McMannis. "Emergency operation at University Hospital puts McMannis on Critical List" the headline read. the article announced the premature birth of twins, Baby-Boy and Baby-Girl McMannis, to Crystal and Tyler McMannis. The article also said that the blood bank stores were low, and everyone was encouraged to go to the hospital to donate blood.

*****

At that same moment, a man at a diner across town from the Connor Estate was reading the same article in the newspaper. This was someone no one in town knew or knew was there, but he showed a definite interest in the goings on of Nolan's citizens. He called himself Quinn and left in a hurry from the diner in a taxi after reading about Crystal in the paper.

Prologue

2009-08-06T21:24:00.002-04:00

Once upon a time... No, that's not quite right. The phrase, "once upon a time", typically denoted the beginning of a story. Once upon a time, a boy and a girl were lost in the woods, and they came upon a house made of candy. Once upon a time, a girl went walking carrying a basket of goodies to Grandma's house. This is more of what one would call an epic saga: a story that transcends "once upon a time", and becomes a lifetime of romance and adventure. A story of how a young, troubled girl stumbled into something she could nave never imagined. A story of how a young woman struggled to right the wrongs of her past and discovered something greater than herself and of how the lives of strangers in suburbia can become secretly intertwined. This is my story.

I was born in Kentucky in the late 1970s. My parents were both professors in the history department at the nearby university, and for all I knew, they loved each other very much. I had many friends, when I was a child, but none of my friendships stood the test of time. I struggled through high school, and with the prodding help of both my parents, I was able to graduate on time with less-than-stellar grades that were good enough to get me into college out of state and away from my parents.

College was my time. My time to start life over out the shadow of my very loving, yet very overbearing parents. But as interesting as my time at the university was, my story doesn't start there. The good part starts a few years later when -- for reasons that I'm sure will become clear when I get to that part of the story -- I found myself in suburban Las Vegas.

Actually, as I look back on it now -- many, many years removed from the situation -- a crucial event took place in my live at the tender age of sixteen. This would be during that trying time of my life when my parents were pushing me hard to survive high school, when I was trying not to stand out in school, and when my live was the same as any any normal sixteen year old girl living in the early 1990s. One day after school, I was snooping around my father's study. This was the one day that I knew he would be at the university late, because he taught his class on the Roman Empire in the evening. Many weeks leading up to that day, I had fantasized about what was behind that old, oak door. The shiny brass knob and the warnings from my father to stay out of his study tantalized me. That day, I decided to risk it and open the door.

Inside was pretty much what I expected to see, but not what I had hoped. What I had hoped to see upon opening the door was something interesting: a treasure map to the Pharaoh's lost fortune, a diamond found while looting the pirate's booty in Bermuda, or even just a stack of dirty men's magazines that my father didn't want me to know about. What I saw was none of those thigns, merely an apparently normal office-style room. One entire wall was bookshelves filled with row upon row of historical texts, some about Ancient Rome, other about Nazi Germany, and a whole shelf-full devoted to the American Civil War.

I had decided to leave and has actually turned toward the door when something peculiar caught my eye. A very large, very old book laid open on the side table next to one of my father's sitting chairs. This seemed odd to me, considering the respect for books that he had ingrained in me for as long as I could remember. I looked at the book, and I discovered what had entranced my father so much. The book was a hefty, leather bound tome that had to be well over a hundred years old, perhaps even two or three hundred. The pages were thick and their edges were rough from over use. Carefully, I closed the book enough to glimpse the title: Mystical Objects of the Ancient World. I flipped through the pages and nothing seemed to jump out at me. Just another one of his history books, I thought. I returned the book to the page my father had left open and turned to leave. That's when it happened. A cold, no make that frigid (it was much colder than simply cold), a frigid breeze ripped through my father's study, and I heard my name whispered on it. It lasted only a second, but it was powerful enough to stay in my memory all these years.

i didn't know it then, but that moment was one of what they call "defining moments" in a person's life. For a few nights after that incident, I had nightmares. Cold hands caressing me in my sleep, creepy old men whispering my name on their deathbeds, you know, standard nightmare fare. And being the sixteen-year-old that I was, within a week the whole thing -- the book, the frigid breeze, the voice, my father's study, everything -- had slipped my mind, and I was back to wondering (more worrying really) if some boy was going to ask me to the homecoming dance.

That was until the day, many years later, that I made a phone call. My story doesn't start there either. But don't worry. You'll hear the whole thing in due time. Just remember like in every good story, this story has lots of characters. Some come and go just as quickly as a frigid breeze. Some linger in your life like a scab on your shin that you keep knocking off every time you walk past the coffee table. And some you wish would never leave. My story is full of such people, and you'll get to know all of them at least as well as I did. So, have patience my friend, and settle in, because as I have learned, my live was quite the adventure.

Maplethorpe Ridge -- Intro

2009-08-05T20:06:00.007-04:00

Okay, so I think first off is my MAJOR project. It started out on a whim years ago. I picked up some paper and a pen and said to myself, "Today, Ephram, you're going to start writing a novel." Knowing how I get and how bad my ADD gets, I didn't expect a novel to actually come from any of this "spare time writing." What happened was amazing. I became drawn into this world that I had created and obsessed with the people that lived there. This was my creation, and I loved it. So, instead of it falling by the wayside after a few attempts at writing something, I actually had a living, breathing universe. There were characters that enchanted me and stories that I wanted to tell. And over the course of the next few years, a novel emerged -- Maplethorpe Ridge.

Beyond that, MR became more than a novel to me. The story didn't end at the end. I saw the end as a new beginning, and my "on a whim" idea blossomed into what I envisioned as a series of novels.

This is by far the meatiest thing that I have ever written. Somewhere in my stacks of backup CDs from old computers is a MS Word file of over 600 pages. That is the first book of MR. MR took me probably five years to write start to finish at a "when I got inspired" pace. And what one can imagine about a work of fiction that grew and evolved over the course of years is that it got to be jumpy and fractured, and I know that there are continuity issues in it. My major goal of my twin-inspired blog is to edit, polish, and share the beauty that is Maplethorpe Ridge.

About a year or so ago (probably close to two now), I got the itch to work on it again. I had started writing book two in the series, and it severely irritated me not having book one in what I would consider a "finished" format. So, I printed out the entire latest version on paper and put it in a 3-ring binder. My goal here was to hand edit and reread the whole thing cover-to-cover (a feat that I have sadly still not done). Unfortunately, editing it was not nearly as exciting as writing it, and after a few days, the binder was shelved and now taunts me from the bookshelf in the bedroom.

This blog is going to be me doing my by hand "final" edits on MR, and in the process, sharing it with the world (or anyone who stumbles upon it). I'm going to embark on the arduous task of retyping the whole thing -- cover to cover. This, my friends, will be far easier for me than simply editing it on paper. And, it will give me the added thrust to work on it knowing that other people are out there reading it and (dear lord, hopefully) anxiously awaiting the next segment.

I know. These sound like such lofty goals indeed. But the past few days of setting up this blog have reenergized me in a way that I've not seen since I first wrote the last chapter.

What I'd like to do for you now is whet your whistle for what's to come over the coming months. To do this, I'll try my best to describe what this world is all about without giving too much away in terms of actual story. I had toyed with the idea of actually getting this guy published in a physical way several times, and I even went so far as to submit sample chapters to a publisher. This publisher requested a one-page summary/description to accompany the sample chapters. Whenever I think about this book, I think of that summary that I wrote. I'm going to do my best to recreate that now. I apologize at the start if it sounds generic, but I don't want to spoil anything in the story.

Maplethorpe Ridge is a sci-fi, romance novel. I wrote what I like, so it's part soap opera, part mystery, part sci-fi, and (I hope) incredibly addictive. Maplethorpe Ridge is the story of several women and how they deal with their lives under various trying circumstances. It's a growing and learning experience -- finding love, losing love, learning things about themselves and the world, and having grand adventures. Crystal is pregnant and harboring a dark secret from her husband. Linda is trapped in a loveless marriage, yearning to give her lonely life meaning. Evelyn craves power and control and seeks it out at the expense of her family. And Kelly is hell bent on getting revenge on those who have wronged her in the past. But no one in this suburb on the hills and cliffs overlooking Las Vegas has any idea what's really in store for them when mysterious, ancient relics begin to surface in their lives.

Reading that doesn't really do anything any real justice. But it makes sense to me, knowing the whole story. And, of course, Crystal, Evelyn, Linda, and Kelly aren't the only women of focus in MR, but they're there right from the beginning.

My plan (who knows if I'm going to be able to stick with it **fingers crossed**) is to work on one chapter each week and post what I hope is a final version of each one as I go. If I remember correctly, there are twenty-two chapters. So, hopefully, you're up for some romantic, soapy, sci-fi, adventure over the next few months. I know I am!

Oh my god, am I really doing this?

2009-08-05T17:58:00.002-04:00

So, my brother has been needling me and needling me for weeks to join this whole "blogging world". The other day, he suggested that I could use it as a venue for my writing.

Okay. Sold!

Even though we're twins (not identical, but very similar), Okturn and I are pretty different. He's way more grounded and into that whole real-life thing than I am. If you're interested in that kind of thing, he writes his own blog called Addicted to Toaster Strudel. I don't know what's that about.

I love to write, and I've been at it for years; although, I have yet to share very much of it with anyone. I have a feeling that's all about to change.

This blog is going to be all fiction. Basically, I'm working on writing projects often, and my plan is to use this blog as a place to share my stuff and maybe get some feedback (if you're into that kind of thing).

Anyway, stay tuned as I did up some older material and post it up here and come up with some new stuff for you guys. As with most blogs (I'm guessing), this is a work in progress.

Enjoy!