Today I stubbed my toe. Only it wasn’t my toe at all.
And like a bruise on a frequently used limb, I have bumped and pushed and prodded until the blood has come to the surface waiting to be released from the layers of skin that hold it captive.
Why can’t we leave things alone? I ponder to myself. Like a child who cannot stop picking at a scab he obtained on his knee while playing tag in the yard. He scratches and peels and picks until the scab becomes infected. It prolongs the healing process, when what would have been only a week, turns into a month, sometimes more.
We, too, are like children with bruises and scratches. We know the wound is there, and though we want it to heal because it hurts and it painful to us, we continue to pick at it, to scratch it, to pull off the scab and wait for it to reform.
It is human error. The misunderstanding of our ways. We do not realize it at the time.
That our resolution to interfere with the healing of our wounds causes much more grief, more time and more pain than just leaving it alone.
We have the habit of going in and peeling off the scab. And every time we peel off the protection our body has created, we accidentally get a tiny bit of the unbroken skin with it, thus making it broken, and making the wound, and the scar, larger.
Why can’t we just leave it alone?
Is it the fact that we want to know what’s underneath? Or that we forget what caused the wound in the first place and possibly, by making the pain reoccur, we can, in a way, relive the trauma and remember the cause? Maybe it’s just the fact that we can’t sit still and let it heal. We want to poke and prod and peel because it satisfies our desire to understand the wound. To understand how it works, and to watch it heal time and time again even with our persistent interference. Or maybe we touch and prod just to feel what it feels like, because it’s there. We get our dirty hands on it and the wound gets infected, deeper and worse then it would have ever been.
I do not know exactly what causes us to touch, to pick, to prod, to interfere.

I do not have the answer.

This is what was going through my mind..... 

REVENGE OF THE SLUGS!!!

My advice this morning? If you are thinking about quitting smoking, or if you are quitting smoking and are using the Nicotine Patch as an aide, please remember to remove the patch before going to sleep.

Last night was the second time I forgot to take my patch off. Talk about vivid dreams. I woke up this morning half scared and half hysterically laughing. This was one of the strangest, stupidest, totally wacky dreams I have ever experienced. Now, mind you, it was a dream, so I only remember certain parts, but here goes:

At first, it was as if I was watching a movie. A girl was walking in a dark hallway, I realized the girl was me, but I was watching it happen. She is walking along in this dark house and it was pretty scary. All of the sudden Freddy Kruger jumps out and grabs her, but then it cuts to like a black screen and Freddy pops out of the screen like a graphic and slashes the words “Nightmare on Elmstreet, The Finale to the Final Nightmare.” No, I am serious.

So, now it’s not a movie anymore, I am there, in this town, near the water. I couldn’t tell you if it was the ocean or a lake, because at sometimes it was an ocean and others it was more of a lake. Anyway, I guess that’s not too pertinent. Ok, so I’m in this town and Freddy Kruger is now in the real world. Somehow he crossed the line and doesn’t only live in our dreams. He is killing people and all that Kruger stuff. There is one part of the dream when he is trying to cross over, that he makes me put him back in this like kiln thing. So, I do. (I just remembered something funny and I’m laughing now, but I’ll get to that a little later.) So, anyways, I put him in this kiln thing. It’s a white machine, that looks more like a Culligan Water machine than a kiln, but in my dream it was a kiln. So, he gets inside, I close it up and I look around me and there are all these men in black suits. (Remembered something else funny, hahahaha....I’ll get to it later) Ok, so these guys are standing around me and Freddy in the kiln. They are not talking, more like waiting to see what is going to happen. So Freddy tells me to start the kiln. So, I’m ready to start the kiln and run the heck away. Well, I start it, Freddy starts screaming and stuff, and I start to run away, then all of the sudden the stinkin’ kiln flips over and I hear Freddy say, “Oh Darn it, it smoldered out. Flip me over and start it again.” (That was funny thing number one.) So, I went back to him, started it up and then bolted.

So, I end up in these people’s house. They have like five kids. There is a pastor there and a black girl and some other people. I am telling them about what is going on and about Freddy and the guys in the black suits. They are scared. Well, we started talking about slugs for some reason. They were telling me that they knew something was going on because of the amount of slugs that where were. I was kind of confused because I didn’t know how slugs had anything to do with Freddy Kruger and the men in the black suits. Well, turns out, Freddy Kruger had created these mutant slugs who where actually the men in the black suits but they could transform back and forth so they can sneak in and kill you. So, anyway, one of those five kids comes running in screaming about a whole bunch of slugs. So, we all run outside and, yep, there’s a whole bunch of slugs. Well, I guess since the slugs realized that we knew about them and what they were, they all transformed and starting killing people. They had little oozie’s. Some of them stayed slugs and had mini oozie’s. But most of them turned into the men in the black suits. All of the sudden, my dream vision did like a close-up to one of the men, and he said something like, “He said they wouldn’t fight back.” Or something like that. Then he turned around and the dream vision did a zoom out on the whole scene and the normal people had their own guns and started shooting the guys in the black suits. Then I hear the song, “Here come the Men in Black!” (Funny part no. 2)

I remember trying to hide in some kind of closet and there was this mexican kid who was talking about how we needed to start the acid rain to kill the slugs. (Freddy kind of disappeared after that, and it was more, “The Revenge of the Slugs.”) Well, in the process of all of this, I lost my shoes. I was trying to run, but I kept stepping on these nasty slugs and my feet were sticking to the ground. The mexican guy gave me a pair of shoes. I didn’t know who they belonged to, so I didn’t want to wear them unless I got permission. I came across a large crowd of people on the sand near the beach. The slugs weren’t in this area. I guess they didn’t like the sand too much. Anyway, the black girl that I mentioned earlier was sitting there. She had like three pairs of summer flip flops in front of her that looked like they would fit me, so I asked her if I could borrow a pair. She told me the shoes I had in my hand were hers, I asked if I could wear them, she told me I couldn’t wear those particular ones because they were her Gucci sandals, but I could borrow a pair of the flip flops. Anyway, I know that whole part of the dream is totally stupid, but I remember it clearly, so I am writing it down.

Ok, so somehow we ended up back at the house we were previously at. The lady and her five kids were there and the pastor. Some of the men in black came in and grabbed the kids. They were holding them all roughly and were going to kill them if the lady didn’t cooperate. I wasn’t sure exactly what they wanted her to do. So they men in black are holding her kids when all of the sudden, two Matthew Lillard’s come up the stairs in like almost ghostbusters uniforms. (Matthew Lillard is the other killer in the original scream movie, for those of you that don’t know) So, I’m like, “Hey, Matthew Lillard! “ Then another Matthew Lillard popped out. And I was like, “Wow! There’s three of you?!” I decided I would go with the Matthews. The Matthews first helped the lady get her kids and they sprayed the men in black with this stuff that turned them back into slugs. And then they stepped on them.

All of the sudden I am outside by what is now a lake. The pastor is there and he is praying for help from God with these slugs. All of the sudden, I hear Freddy’s voice, but I don’t see him. Then, out from the middle of this lake, comes this HUGE slug. Like bigger than a whale. You don’t see it’s whole body, but from the size of it’s head you can tell that it is just huge. The slug says something to the pastor, I don’t remember what, and then, slowly, the slug ate the pastor. He had sharp, jagged teeth and the pastor couldn’t escape. I started running back toward the town shouting, “The slugs are coming!!! The slugs are coming!!!”

And then I woke up.

All throughout the morning I kept laughing about it and repeating to myself, “Revenge of the Slugs??” Geez, it is so funny to me. I was in the shower and I started thinking about it and I couldn’t help cracking up. I’m even laughing right now. Talk about a stupid dream!!!

Ok, hope you enjoyed.

-Nat

aaaahhhhh.... 

FOR THE HISTORY BOOKS

I understand that some of you may be wondering why I decided to continue posting after I had given up and said goodbye. Please, let me explain......

It all started yesterday. It was a normal day, nothing exciting transpired. I made a decision about ending my blog and then I said goodbye. But, it was not meant to be. It was as if the earth was telling me, “you must continue blogging, child, you cannot end it this way....It is too soon.....”

Set forth below are the events that took place proceeding my decision to quit blogging.

It was a warm spring day. The sun was bright and beating on my skin as I drove with my windows down through Shaw Avenue. I was driving home from work listening to a local radio station when all of the sudden my tire blew out. My front tire. I tried to steer my vehicle as it quickly spun out of control. Across the road, fishtailing and weaving in and out of the divider. Finally it came to a stop. Right in the middle of oncoming traffic. I sat there in amazement, trying to catch my breath, when all of the sudden, an SUV came headed directly for me. I heard the breaks hit; I watched the vehicle swerve, trying to avoid me, but instead, it rolled over and began a very large collision. Vehicle upon vehicle upon vehicle. One after the other. As a chain reaction. And I was in the middle. I don’t remember much after that.

The next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital. I was hooked up to a machine. I couldn’t feel my legs or arms. I realized that they were just asleep and began slowly moving them about. I heard a ruckus going on. Screaming. At first I thought maybe it was a woman in labor. But then I heard another voice. And another and another. Everyone was screaming. And it sounded as if they were running. Pomp pomp pomp pomp. The sound echoed through my head which was in immense pain from the trauma I had experienced earlier. I reached over and unplugged myself from the machines. Something was wrong here. I was scared. I stood up, weak in my knees and proceeded to the door of my room. My door was locked. I couldn’t seem to open it. I walked to the other side of the room to a small window. I looked through the glass and saw a horrific sight. A woman. At first she looked normal. A pretty girl once, with sandy blonde hair and what seemed like a gorgeous body. But there was something terribly wrong with her. She looked.....dead. She walked slowly and calmly towards the window where I stood. I stepped back. This wasn’t right. One by one they came. I thought to myself, “this can’t be happening....zombies don’t exist.” But, boy was I wrong. A thousand zombies there must have been. There were hospital staff and patients alike. All infected. I was so scared. But, luckily, they couldn’t seem to get in my room. I saw an air vent and decided to go for it. I was afraid to stay where I was. I wasn’t sure how long the door would hold. So, I pushed my hospital bed under the air vent, climbed up and crawled my way through the vent. (Luckily, this was a large vent and very sturdy, too.) I could hear people screaming and I was so scared. The air vent reached an end. It was the basement. I slowly exited the vent. I did not hear any zombies or people around. I tiptoed through the basement towards what looked like an exit. I tried to open the door but it was solid. Slowly, the door opened and there stood a man. Not a zombie. A man. (He could have been a zombie according to his looks, but I could tell he was not infected.) He introduced himself, “Come in, hurry!! I am Dr. Jax.” I closed the door behind me and latched it. I finally felt safe. I cried.
“How did you escape?” He asked. I told him about the vents. And although I thought him a seemingly normal person, all of the sudden my impression of him changed.
He turned around slowly....”No one was supposed to escape,” he said with an anger in his eye. “I am the only one supposed to live. And now, I must take care of this situation.” He came towards me. I was so scared. I begged him for my life, “Please, don’t do this.” He went on to tell me about his plan. He created a zombie virus to wipe out mankind. He also created a huge bomb that would release an antidote into the air so that all of the zombies would then parish and he could rule the earth. His plan was horrific. How could he kill all these innocent people? But he was starved for power. I knew I was going to die. He came at me. But before he reached me, out of nowhere, a sudden blast came through the metal door. “Come with me!” a voice shouted. I could not see the face of my rescuer. But I trusted his voice. A hand reached out and I took it. I ran with the stranger for what felt like an eternity in the empty basement. We proceeded to an armored car. I finally saw his face. It was glorious. “Hello, havin’ a bad day?” He asked. I smiled. He was so handsome. “My name is Lucas. I used to work with Dr. Jax. Until I found out about his plan. I realized that he was smart enough and powerful enough to complete it so I began making plans of my own.”
“If you knew what he was doing, why were you here?” I asked him, curious.
“I came to blow up his protection. That room is the only place that is strong enough to survive the blast. The bomb has been set on a timer. He will die in the blast. I was going to leave, but I heard a voice. You. I’m glad I got there on time.”
“Me too.” I replied.
“We have two hours,” he said with conviction.
“Until?”
“Yes.”
“I have built a submarine that will keep us safe from the blast and we can stay there for a day or two until everything clears up. The chemicals from the blast only last for twenty four hours. We just have to make it to the marina in time.”
He drove fast. I had never been in a vehicle that was driven at such an extreme speed. It was, in a way, exciting, and also very terrifying. Due to the recent rash of zombie outbreaks, the roads were pretty clear of traffic. But, they were heavily bombarded with empty vehicles. The fast, swervy drive made me sick and I vomited.
We arrived at the marina with eight minutes to spare. There were zombies all around, but Lucas had them all taken care of. He had designed a special weapon that would emit a super high frequency sound wave that would kill any zombies within about 100 feet. Apparently, once deceased, your brain becomes very sensitive to high frequency sounds. We got into the submarine and entered the dark, deep ocean just in time. We heard and felt the blast. The ocean rocked and I became sick again. The waters did not start to calm for almost an hour.
Finally they calmed and Lucas and I went to sleep.
When we woke up, I found myself at peace with Lucas. He was a very strong, sexy man. I couldn’t have asked for a better rescuer.
We stayed there another day, in the submarine. It was then I realized that we were the only ones left. Lucas and I.
We would have to repopulate the world and we had work to do.
We left the submarine early the following morning. (After trying our hands at the repopulation thing a few times.)
The earth was different. There was a smell in the air and a darkness about it. It was then I realized.....the most important thing of all.....

I could not let this day go undocumented. I could not let the world forget. I must record what happened. And also what will happen from here on out. I must record my daily events. Although they may not seem important to me at the time, they may do the world a favor in the future.

So, I therefore, make a vow. To always blog, not matter what. I cannot let down my future descendants. I must continue to blog. It’s a matter of life and death.

So, that is the reason I have decided to not stop blogging.

Now, I must go.....I’ve got a world to populate!



*Disclosure: None of these events actually took place. The characters in this story are fiction. There is no such thing as zombies and the world was not destroyed.
I just changed my mind and decided that I liked blogging no matter what people thought of it. How’s that? Still boring??

Luke's Collage 

FOR LUKE:

Ok, so Luke mentioned that he was a tad jealous of my collage dedicated to Kelly Joe Phelps, so I made him one, too. That way he doesn’t feel left out. Being that I can’t really go online searching for his pictures, I had to use the ones I have. I was going to make it all neat and square like I did Phelps’, but as I was coloring it in, it had a rugged affect that I like, so I’m leaving it like it is. ENJOY.....................

I'm so sad...... 

GOODBYE, DEAR BLOG

I decided today that blogging is a very bad idea. Since I started blogging, I have become obsessed about little stupid things. Like wondering if my blog is better than anyone elses, and why no one leaves comments on my blog. I asked my boyfriend this question and he said that my posts were boring. I had asked him because I noticed on one of his friend’s blogs that he replied to almost every stinking post. So, I started reading her posts. They are just as boring as mine! Whatever. I’m not going to make any more posts on this blog cause no one reads them anyway. And the only person that does read them thinks they are boring and dumb, so I give up. Good bye blog. I tried, I really did!!!
Good bye. (Sniff)

Good bye..... (Sniff sniff)

Goodbye................................. (Sigh)

The beloved collage.... 

ODE TO KELLY JOE

Ok, so about two months ago, I was driving back from Yuba City after picking up a vehicle I purchased from a friend of the family. While driving along, I was searching for a radio station. All of the sudden a clear signal came through and I heard him. A voice that was so sweet and sexy and gruff. I couldn’t help but turn the radio up and enjoy his voice. It was wonderful. Those who have heard him have either shared my opinion completely or been the total opposite. I waited for the announcer to say his name. Kelly Joe Phelps. He’s an awesome guitarist and a superb singer. His voice is yummy. Anyways, when I got back to Fresno, I looked him up on the net, saw he was playing in Winters, CA two weeks later, so I went to his concert. Not only does he have a sexy voice, but his face isn’t too bad, either. So, then later, I found as many C.D.’s as I could of his and have been a fan ever since. I think I am probably becoming a little obsessed, but being that I’ve never been obsessed with any famous or semi-famous person before, I figure, hey, why not have one minor obsession? So, I found a whole bunch of pics and made a little collage and thought I’d share it with all of you. If you’re interested in his music (mostly blues) feel free to visit his website. I’ll add a link on the side bar. Ok. Hope you enjoy!
-Natalie

Previously, I mentioned that Juliana looked a lot like Jim Carrey when he did that girl in a bikini on In Living Color. Can you see the resemblance? Don't tell anyone, but Jim and I had a thing a couple of years back. Almost 6 years to be exact.....hmmmm.....how old is Jules now? :-) 

Isn't it pretty? 

REFLECTIONS......

Well, I haven't posted in quite a while, so I thought I should add something new. Not that anyone reads this anyway. I sure wish I had a digitial camera. I guarantee my blog would be more interesting. But, I only have the pictures I already have developed and I can't take new pictures of stuff I see everyday. Plus, the cost of developing adds up. Maybe I should just put one on layaway. Or maybe someone should be me one as a nice present. Like for Mother's day or Memorial day or something. Maybe a just because gift. I even started writing a poem about it. I didn't finish it, but I'll share it anyways. Here goes:
I wish I had a digital camera.

I wish I had a digital camera.
The thought of that is nice.
I could take pictures of the things I see,
I could take the pictures twice.

From every angle and corner and light
I would document my days.
From my desk inside to the streets out there.
I’d take them many ways.

I’d get a good one of that grandma
who wears those lime green shorts
As she jogs around the complex
as her face twists and contorts

“Power walking”, or “Power Jogging”
I think is what they call it
But to me it looks like she’s in pain.
I wish I never saw it.

And I’d get one of that little kid
Who belongs to Suite 16
Who smiles real cute when mom’s around
but alone, he’s just obscene.

He’ll flip you the finger
or call you a b*$&%
But then he’ll turn right around
And make a big switch.

I’d get one real good
When he wasn’t lookin’
And then I’d send it to his mama
And watch him start bookin’

I wish I had a Digital Camera
It would be super neat.
To take pictures of all the weird people I meet.

Oh all of the wonderful things I could do
If I had a digital camera, wouldn’t you?