A Twitterer's Tale

I have died everyday waiting for you.

Darling don't be afraid I have loved you.

For a Thousand Years

I'll love you for a thousand more.....

Susan's voice rang through the car as she sang along to the Christina Perri song playing on the radio.  Her eyes focusing on the mile markers as she drove.  One little green sign flashes by after the next.  Mile marker 3.  Mile marker 3.1.  Mile marker 3.2.  Susan turns down the radio and replays the voice message left on the cell phone provided by the television studio.  This was the first time Susan had ever been on a game show and she was doing her best to win, or at least make it into the finals.

"Congratulations contestants for making it into the next round of 'Follow The Signs'"  Susan felt the tingle of excitement all over again as she heard the instructions for what had to be the fifteenth time.  "On this level we're taking you on a little adventure.  To get there you'll have to do what contestants?"  Susan's arm shoots up into the air as she yells to the voice coming from the phone.  "FOLLOW THE SIGNS!!!!!!"  She quickly lowers her arm when she sees the perplexed face of the neighboring car.  Embarrassed, she slows down allowing her onlooker to pass in front of her as she continues to hear clues for her next challenge.

"In the trunk of your automobile, you will find a portable electronic bulletin board.  When you reach your assigned mile marker, you must pull over and immediately set up your billboard in front of your car."  Susan shrugs at the simplicity of her challenge as the voice continues.  "Sounds easy right?  Well don't get too confident yet.  You need to do this very quickly or you may miss the sign our roving field agents will be sending your way.  When you see the sign, you need to type it into the Bulletin boards remote keypad so that our eyes in the sky can see.  If you correctly identify the sign in the allotted time, you're onto the next level." 

The next part of the recording is where Susan really lucked out.  The mile marker assignments.  "Susan Godfrey, you are at mile marker 5.8.  Roderick Jacobs...you are mile marker 7.5.  John Delango...mile marker 9.9......"  And it went out farther from there.  Susan's was the closest.  It really was her lucky day.

"Mile marker 5.8" she gasped as she saw the marker and pulled over.  Flinging her car door open, she jumps out and retrieves the billboard from the trunk and sets it up in front of her car.  Nervously she looks down at the cell phone before taking a quick scan of her surroundings.  Nothing in particular stood out as cars whizzed by her on the busy roadway.  The flow of traffic was divided with a concrete divider separating the east and west bound commuters.  As Susan stood on the shoulder of the eastbound side, she looked all around her for the elusive sign.  Nothing but water was behind her and across the divider nothing jumped out screaming "Look at me!!! I'm the sign!!!"  Looking down at the time again as a feeling of dread starts to creep into the pit of her stomach.  "I couldn't have missed it" She bites down on her lower lip as she scans the area once again. "I got here so fast.  There's no way I missed it."  Giving a quick glance of prayer to the sky as the dread begins to grow even more. 

As she looks down, a brief shimmer of light catches her eye in the distance on the westbound side of traffic.  "What's that?" she feels her breath stop as she stands up on the tip of her toes trying to see it again.  Between the concrete divider, passing cars and her less than average height, she couldn't quite make out the shape of the approaching shimmer.  "DAMMIT" she mutters as she acts quickly and jumps up onto the hood of her car.   With the increased height, she begins to make out the shape as it nears her on the opposite side of the road.  "A worm?" she squints her eyes trying to make out the image more clearly.  She shook her head as her eyes confirmed her first conclusion.  A large Mylar balloon, that appeared to be running on some kind of remote control, floated by her on the other side of the road.  "Ok?" she jumps down from the hood and pulls the controller from her pocket for the bulletin board.  She types in the letters W-O-R-M and hits send making the electronic billboard light up with the clue she had seen.  "What the hell does a worm have to do with any of this?" she shrugs as she leans back against her car and waits for a response on the cell phone they gave her.

After a few minutes, she starts to wonder if the worm balloon had actually been the clue she was meant to look for.  Keeping her eyes on her surroundings, she watches the cars as they pass by in front of her.  Suddenly she jumps up as one particular car catches her by surprise.  A small object flies out of the car's window and lands in the grass of the shoulder about 100 yards behind her car.  When she looks up at the car the object comes from, she sees a man in the front seat aiming some kind of rifle or machine gun into the rear seat.  Susan didn't know a thing about guns but she was sure about what the man had been holding.  On instinct, she moved around to the other side of her car and ducked slightly behind it until the car had passed out of sight.  "Jesus Christ" she presses her hand to her head and runs her fingers through her hair as she looks down at the cell phone in the other hand.  "Will you hurry up please!" she yells at the phone willing the show to release her from her current position. 

She jumps as the phone buzzes in her hand indicating the incoming text message. "OH god!!" she shakes her head as her fingers nervously press at the keys to retrieve her next instructions. 

CONGRATULATIONS MS. GODFREY!!  You found the clue and we saw your sign!  You made it to the final round!!  Proceed to The Cantina Mexican Bar in the center of town on the corner of Main & Central Avenues.  Go to the bar and order a shot of Tequila with the worm.  You'll receive your next instructions at that time.

"Thank god" she lets out the breath she had been holding a moment earlier.  As she starts to slide the phone back into her pocket, she hears the sound of another car's tires as it pulls up behind her.  A man in a black hoodie gets out of the driver seat and begins to pace back and forth through the shoulder's grass as he mutters and curses to himself.  "Where is it?"  he moves closer to Susan who is now gathering the electronic billboard hurriedly  "WHERE THE FUCK IS IT?"  he yells over at her as she attempts to put the billboard into her back seat.  "I don't know what you're talking about" She replies as she circles around to the driver's side of her car.  "You don't?"  he heads straight for her as she pulls open her door and he quickly kicks it back shut with his foot.  "Look" Susan jumps back  "I don't know what you're looking for and I have to go"  Her heart begins to race in her chest as the man's mostly hidden face makes no change in expression.  His cold wild eyes stare at her silently for a moment.  "You need to go?" he repeats back to her finally as he puts his hands into his pockets.  Nodding her head quickly as she fights back the tears of fear forming in her eyes.  "Yes" she whispers as she again reaches for her car door.  "You're lying" the man's hand comes back out of his pocket and a knife presses against her stomach.  "WHERE IS IT?"  Shaking her head as the tears fall free from her eyes  "Please" she begs "I don't know what you're looking for"  Her eyes go out to the road hoping that the show was still watching somehow or maybe a passerby would come to her aid.  "I don't know why you're here"  She looks back at him trying to plead with the man holding her life in his hands.  "Please don't kill me.  I don't know anything.  You don't have to hurt me"  The man's expression finally changes as a smile curls upon his lips.  "Oh yes I do"  She gasps as he presses the blade and pierces her skin.  His eyes glow at the sight of her terror.  "You're a woman all alone.  What else would I do?"  The pain rips through her middle as the knife is thrust into her stomach and she is blinded with a bright white flash of light. 

A scream pierces her eardrums as she is jolted upright in her bed.  Immediately her hands run across her stomach as she feels for the knife wound.  Her heart still racing as she slowly begins to realize that everything that had just happened had been nothing more than a dream.  "Thank god" she breathes out as she feels herself start to sob.  "It was so real.  All of it"  Sitting up, she wraps her arms around her legs as she tries to calm down from the nightmare.  After several long minutes of near rocking in place, she feels her heart rate returning to normal.  "I guess I need to go get ready for work" she admits as she wipes her eyes removing any traces of her emotional breakdown.  "I can't believe a dream affected me like that"  she shakes her head as she walks out of the bedroom and picks up her phone to check messages and her Twitter account. 

Two messages from her mother prying into the single life of her aging daughter... "God mom"  She lets out a sigh as she presses the Twitter icon and notices the blue glow under the CONNECT @ icon.  "A couple Mentions and a follow" she comments out loud,  "Not bad.  There could have been nothing"  Her eyebrows arch as she nods at the truth to the thought.  Curiosity and a need to clear her head from her previous dream, has her clicking the link to her new follower.  "Johnnie D" her finger scrolls through his page.  "Only 2 followers.  Following 17 and has tweeted a whopping 5 times"  She lays her phone down on the table "I wonder how he came across my page?"  As she moves to get up from the sofa and get ready for work, her phone rings.  "Hello" she answers.  "Hi.  Is Ms. Susan Godfrey available?"  A pleasant sounding woman's voice inquires.  "This is her speaking.  How can I help you?"  The woman's voice automatically picks up on the excitement level.  "Ms Godfrey!!  I'm Madeline Hines from KG57 TV.  CONGRATULATIONS!!!  You've been selected to be a contestant on FOLLOW THE SIGNS!!!"  Susan' s face paled as she gripped tightly onto the phone.  "I've what?" she manages to whisper as she falls back down onto the sofa.



Somber Night

Like so many others, the news of today's tragic events in Newtown, CT has left me heartbroken and in shock.  My first selfish thoughts are of my own child who, until that moment, was thought to be safe at school.  She of course is safe, but the reality that in today's world, any town could be Newtown, is horrifying.  Today was not that day, but what about tomorrow...or next week.  These events are becoming entirely too regular and that scares me to death.  Not just for my daughter, but for us all.  Today's victims were so young.  So untouched by the lives that they hadn't even begun to live.

As a parent, I am devastated.  I am even more struck by this event than others before. This one hit closer to home. I lived in Newtown when I was a young girl. Not for long, only for a year and a half. During that time, I attended Sandy Hook Elementary School. I remember beautiful scenery on Mt. Pleasant drive.  The view at the peak of the mountaintops was a sight to behold.  I remember that the French marched through the town during the Revolutionary war.  The town held a reenactment to commemorate the march.  What I don't remember was violence or being afraid.  I'm sure the residents there still felt the same way...until today. 

I moved away after 6th grade and I don't know any of the victims or their families but my heart goes out to them.  No amount of condolences or heartfelt words will ever make the parents of these small angels feel any better.

Contrary to what I've already written, I can think of no other way to express myself than in the poem below.

Somber Night

A day that started like any other

A girl kissed her Daddy. A boy hugged his Mother.

They stepped onto the bus or out of the car.

They walked into to the school and waved from afar.

They greeted their friends and walked happily to class.

They smiled and laughed, as each moment passed.

Their heads filled with visions of the holidays ahead.

But the moments that followed were horrific instead.

A man so unstable, came upon them with a gun.

There was no more laughter.  No time to run.

This man ended their future.  He took aim and he fired.

Again and again, til each one expired.

Each little angel, innocent and pure.

Taken away so violently, when a man walked through their door.

A tragedy so senseless.  So much life has been lost.

Changes need to be made, No matter the cost.

For the price already paid, was more than any of us can afford.

The loss of young innocence.  The loss of those we adored.

If you are blessed to have your loved ones, hold them close and hold them tight.

Remember the families less fortunate and how they are surviving this Somber Night.

Glen Mazzara fan Fictionara Part 4 - A Mid-Seasons Nights Dream

As the door fully opens, Glen sees Kirkman seated at his desk with his back turned away from the door.  "Right" he responds to the phone held to his ear.  "All is going according to plan.  Mazzara is here now and we should be able to start filming the finale tonight."  Robert turns and motions to the chair in front of his desk.  When Glen refuses to enter the office, he is lifted under each arm by Reedus and Lincoln and carried through the open door.  Once inside, Glen sees that Kirkman was not alone.  He moves his eyes nervously around the room from one set of glowing eyes to the next.  Lauren Cohan, Steven Yeun, Gale Anne Hurd...all of them.  Almost the entire cast of The Walking Dead along with some of the crew stood silently against the walls of Kirkmans office.

Lincoln and Reedus lower Glen into the office chair and step back against the wall with the others.  "I don't know what's going on here" Glen confides as he looks back at Kirkman "But I'm not sure if I want to either"  Robert folds his hands on the desk and smiles over at him "There's nothing going on Glen." He motions to the others "We're all just here to hear about the finale"  Glen glances back at the others realizing their eyes have all returned to normal.  He looks back at Kirkman suspiciously as he leans back against his chair "Right.  The finale."  His arm grips tightly around his laptop as he remembers Nicotero's panicked phone calls earlier. 

You can't finsh the finale.

 

Don't let them assimilate you.  

The words echoing in Glen's ears still made no more sense than they had earlier but now they were setting off alarms in his mind.  "It's not ready yet" Glen blurted out the lie as he tried to appear as calm as possible. 

He felt them move closer without even having to look back.  "What do you mean it isn't ready?"  Kirkman's voice no longer carried the familiar friendly tone from before.  "We NEED it today"  Glen looks back over his shoulder to confirm what he suspected a moment before.  The others stood directly behind him looking down again with eyes glowing red. 

Glen jumps up from his chair but is pushed back down by several hands.  "You will finish the finale Glen" Kirkman orders "You'll finish it NOW"  Glen glares over at Kirkman "Or what?" he says the words slowly "You'll assimilate me?"   Kirkmans eyes move around to the other faces in the room before returning to Glen's.  "So Nicotero told you"  Shaking his head as he looks to Reedus  "Bring him in"  Reedus immediately leaves the room as Kirkman continues to talk,  "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this Glen."  He runs a hand through his hair as his eyes begin to glow like the others.  "What the hell?" Glen looks around the room trying to find a way out as he fishes for an explanation.  "What are you going to do?" 

Robert motions for someone to restrain Glen as a struggling Nicotero is dragged into the room.  "LET ME GO!!"  Greg yells as he tries to pull free of Reedus's grip.  "You can't do this.  I don't want to be one of you"  Andrew Lincoln moves over to help Norman get his charge under control.  Glen frantically watches as they force his friend into the chair next to him.  "Quiet" Reedus yells as they tie and gag him.  Kirkman stands and pulls some kind of video goggles out of his desk drawer.  "You want to know what we're doing?" he looks at Glen as he walks around the desk to Nicotero and places the goggles over his eyes.  "Let me show you"  With a push of a button, Nicotero's whole body freezes as he stops struggling.  "What are you doing to him?" Glen watches between Nicotero and Kirkman.  "I believe he called it assimilating" Kirkman's eyes glow even brighter  " It's what we will be doing to everyone during the finale"  Glen's eyes widen.  "During the finale?"  Kirkman nods as he lifts the goggles off of Nicotero's face.  "What did you do to him?"  He watches as Nicotero sits motionless with his eyes closed. 

"He's one of us now" Glen feels his heart stop at the sound of his wifes voice in the doorway behind him.  Slowly he looks back at her and her glowing red eyes.  "One of who?" he mutters barely above a whisper.  Nicotero's hand lightly touches Glen's shoulder,  "One of the chosen" .  Glen looks back anxiously at his friend but is greeted but yet another pair of glowing eyes.  "Glen, you have to finish the finale.  The fans....they deserve this."  He stands up and moves behind Glen as he speaks "They will love this."  Desparate to get out of there and away from everything, Glen clears his throat as he attempts to stand "Alright.  Let me go back to my office and I'll finish the finale"  Kirkman laughs as he pulls the laptop out from under Glen's arm.  "Sit back down Glen."  He places the laptop on the desk and shakes his head.  "From the way you've been gripping on to that, I'd be willing to bet you're finished already."  Pushed back down into the chair again, Glen shakes his head "No.  It still needs work.  It's not ready"  He looks around at everyone and decides to use their tactic against them.  "We don't want to disappoint the fans right?"  Kirkman moves next to Glen "No and we won't"  He looks to Andrew Lincoln who immediately grabs hold of Glen to keep him in his chair.  "We will film the finale the way it is.  When we send out the nuero-transmissions into the broadcast feed, the fans will become part of us. All of them."  Kirkman's lips curve into a malicious smile as he begins to place the goggles over Glen's face.  "No!!!" Glen fights to keep the goggles away.  "You can't!!!" 

Several pairs of hands clamp down on Glen and he hears his wife's voice.  "Glen" she whispers into his ear "It's ok.  Don't fight it.  The fans...think of the fans....Glen"  He tries harder to break free as the goggles block out all the light in the room.  "No!!! Let me go!!!"  His one hand breaks free and pushes away another set of hands that had gripped upon his shoulder.  "Glen!!"  his wife's voice becomes more urgent "Glen!!!  Stop it.....Wake up"    With a jolt, Glen open's his eyes and after a moment of disorientation, he realizes that everyone is gone except for his wife.  "Glen...honey.  Wake up"  She shakes his shoulder again.  "You're having a nightmare"  Glen blinks up at her from his recliner as it sinks in that he is no longer sitting in Kirkman's office.  "I'm awake" he shakes his head trying to clear it as he rubs his eyes. "I'm awake now"  He stares up at his wife leaning over him and studies her eyes for any sign of the red glow.   "I told you not to stay up so late" she stands up and folds her arms across her chest.  "You always have the worst dreams when you're overtired"  He takes a long deep breath in as the last traces of dream state fades from his mind.  "You're right" he nods and stands up.  "I'm coming to bed now.  I'll just save what I have finished so far and then bed."  As he shuts down his laptop, Glen's wife stands in the doorway.  "You really need to start getting more sleep Glen."  She smiles at him as he turns toward her and takes her hand.  "Yes mother" he smiles back and pulls her toward their bedroom.  "Wait glen...you forgot the light"  She turns back with her free hand and flips off the light switch leaving the room in near perfect darkness.  The only light is the slight reddish glow shining from her eyes.


The End..... I hope I didn't disappoint the fans.  :-)

Glen Mazzara Fan Fictionara Part 3 - The FINAL Draft

Satisfied that he had determined the root of everyones odd behavior, Glen glances down at his cell phone "Dammit!" he mutters placing the cell down next to his laptop as he begins to frantically type. "Only ten more minutes to the meeting with Kirkman."  Now that he was more relaxed, the ideas flowed from his fingertips as he made the final touches to the last scene of the finale. 

As he began to proofread through his revisions, he was distracted by a knock on his office door.  "Come in" he responds as he lowers the laptop lid down slightly.  Steven Yeun enters the office only poking his head in the barely open door.  "Hey Glen" Steven's eyes focus immediately on the laptop as he speaks.  "I got your message last night" he laughs mechanically "Good joke.  You had me going for a sec."   Glen chuckles but follows Stevens stare to his laptop.   "Yeah, sorry about that.  I needed a tension break."  Steven continues to stare at the laptop as neither of them speak.  Glen clears his throat and Stevens eyes jolt in his direction. "Is there something I can help you with Steven?  I'm late to meet Kirkman"  He glances at the time and begins to gather what he needs for the meeting.  "I was wondering how the finale was going.' Steven probes.  "Is it done?"  Glen looks up and nods "Actually, I just finished going over it and it's looking pretty good."  Glen's hand pats the lid of the laptop as he smiles at Steven  "Good" Steven's face beams "We were all worried that it wasn't going to be ready for the..."  Steven pauses as he catches himself mid sentence and blinks staring at Glen before continuing with slightly less enthusiasm. "We wouldn't want to disappoint the fans"  Glen stares back at Steven with a brief flash of disbelief thinking to himself 'Not you too Steven?  Is everyone in on this prank?'  He stands up and puts the laptop under his arm  "Oh I know Steven.  I know all about it" 

As he passes Steven still standing in the doorway, Steven grips Glen's arm  "You Know?"  Looking down at Stevens hand on his arm ,Glen shakes his head.  "Yes, I know all about it.   I gotta admit it's a good plan"  Glen looks up and immediately jumps back from Steven as he is greeted by a pair of red glowing eyes.  "What the...Steven?"  Steven releases Glen's arm and quickly looks away  "What exactly do you know Glen?" he whispers.  Glen swallows as he continues to move away.  "About the prank you guys have been playing"  Steven looks back as his eyes shift from red to normal. "Prank?  You think this is a..."  Steven's eyebrows raise as he flashes a quick smile  "You're right.  Dam, we can't fool you, can we?"    Backing away even further, Glen shakes his head.  "That was no prank. Your eyes...they...they...Just like my wifes...like Jeff....What's going on?"  As he takes another step back, Glen is pushed forward by Norman Reedus and Andrew Lincoln.  "There you are Glen" Andrew smiles to Glen as they manuever him down the hall.  "Kirkman sent us to find you"   Glen looks frantically between Lincoln and Reedus as they look back at him with the same glowing eyes he had seen so many times already.  "Where are you taking me?" he questions as he tries to pull free from their grip.  "To the finale meeting." Reedus replies as an eerie grin sweeps across his face  "You have to present the finale.  We don't want to disappoint the fans"  His red eyes glow even brighter as he looks over to Lincoln.  "No"  Lincoln agrees "Never want to disappoint them"

The three reach the office door of Robert Kirkman and Andrew lifts his hand to knock .  "Come in" a familiar voice bellows through the door.  Glen makes one last attempt to pull free as Norman opens the office door.


To be continued.... The Fans Can't EVER be Disappointed!!

Glen Mazzara Fan Fictionara Part 2: The Glowing Review

Glen's eyelids began to lower as his head rests against the recliner cushion.  The night had turned out to be longer than he had expected.  It had been hours before when he first sat down at his computer to knock out the finale rewrite for tomorrows meeting with Robert Kirkman.  He knew that the last scene he was working on was nearly perfect, but it was missing something.  Something that he knew was right in front of him but hidden just enough that he couldn't get the thought down on paper.  As hard as he had tried to fight it, his eyelids fluttered until finally they pressed down together and he started to doze off.  A smile still on his face as his thoughts delighted in his earlier prank session.
"Get up Glen" he says to himself as he starts to reopen his eyes. "You need to finish writing the...."  Glen blinks his eyes repeatedly as he stares at the sun streaming into his study window.  "What the Hell?"  he mutters as he glances down at his watch.  "You've got to be kidding me.... 7:45am????"  He rechecks his watch again as he jumps up from his recliner "Great, I fell asleep and the meeting is in less than two hours." He shakes his head wondering why his wife hadn't woken him as he checks the computer and hits save.  "It's soo close.  I'll work it out at the office" 
As he turns to go get ready, he picks up his cell phone and notices he has several missed calls and a few voicemails.  He starts to listen to the messages and his mood lifts hearing the responses from his fun the evening before.

The first message is from Lauren Cohan: "Glen.....How could you do that?!  Yes you got me.  We're even"

The next was left by Norman Reedus:  "Asshole....that was fucked up.  See ya later."

There was even a message left by Andrew Lincoln.  "I heard everyone got pranked last night but me.  Good show."  After a brief pause in the message, Andrew continues, "Is there a reason I should know as to why I wasn't pranked?  Call me"

Glen laughs as presses his phone to retrieve the next message.  It's from Nicotero.  "Glen....It's Greg.  I can't explain on the phone but DON'T FINISH THE SCENE......You can't.  I'll explain when you get here.  If anyone asks......I never called"

The message ends with a click and Glen plays it back as his brows crease with confusion.  "What the hell is that all about?"   "What is what about?" Glen jumps at the sound of his wife's voice behind him.  "Geez!" he says startled "Where did you come from?"  She smiles as she steps closer and kisses him on the chin.  "I'm sorry dear.  Did I startle you?"  Glen shakes his head "No.  It's Nicotero.  He left me a really odd message.  That's all"  Her smile fades "What kind of message?"  He smiles at her reassuringly "Its nothing.  He said something about me not finishing the finale"  His wife's eyes widen "You HAVE too!" she demands instantly then blinks as she smiles once more.  "I mean you can't disappoint the fans"   Surprised by her reaction, he stares at her for a moment before replying.  "No.  I can't disappoint them.  And I won't" he leans over and kisses her forehead. "Thats why I have to go get dressed for the meeting"  He smiles and walks out of the room.

Glen is showered and dressed in record time.  As he goes toward his study to retrieve what he needs, his wife greets him outside the bedroom door with his laptop, files and a travel mug of coffee. "Don't want you to be late dear." She flashes a Stepford-ish smile at him "You don't want to disappoint those fans"   As she hands over everything, he can't help but ask "Are you feeling alright?"  She blinks before answering "I'm excited to see the finale.  I'm your biggest fan"  As she hands him his file folder, one loose sheet of paper falls to the floor and he bends over to retrieve it.   "You are?  Thanks hun"  He stands back up and looks at her noticing a light red glow in her eye.  "What was...." Before he finishes the question, he blinks and her eye appears normal again.  "Are you alright Glen?" she moves closer and he shakes his head.  "I didn't sleep well."  He raises up the mug "This is definitely appreciated"  They say their goodbyes and Glen goes outside to his car and heads into work.

Within seconds of parking his car at the studio lot, an office intern runs over to him. "Good morning Mr. Mazzara.  Can I help you carry anything inside Mr. Mazzara?"  Glen looks down at the normally quiet intern with surprise.  "No thank you Jeff.  I'm good"     Jeff continues to walk alongside Glen as he goes into the building. "Today's the big day.  I'm soo excited that you've finished the finale."  Glen can feel Jeff staring at him as they walk.  "I'm glad you're excited Jeff.  We all are"  Glen's eyes glance over at the newly eager intern, but what he sees surprises him even more.  Jeff's eyes appear to have the same red glow that he had thought was in his wife's eyes earlier.  Blinking quickly, Glenn is relieved to see the interns eyes return to normal.  "Are you ok Mr. Mazzara?" Jeff asks overly concerned.  "I'm fine Jeff.  I was up way too late working on the finale."  Jeff lets out a long breath of relief "Phew!!  You had me worried.  We wouldn't want to disappoint the fans"  Glen agrees with Jeff but quickly excuses himself as he feels the beginnings of a headache coming on.

He finally makes it to his office and goes inside closing the door behind him.  "I really need to sleep better" he mutters to himself as he sits down at his desk and opens his laptop.  His desk phone rings just as he begins to type and he lifts the receiver to his ear.  "Hello" he waits for a response but there is none.  "Hello? Is someone there?"  He hears the faint sound of a whispered voice "Don't finish it"   Glen strains to hear the voice clearer  "Who is this?  I can't hear you"  The voice repeats  "Don't finish the scene Glen"  Glen looks at his laptop screen "Greg?  Is this you?  What's going on?"  Silence echoes through the phone.   "Greg why shouldn't I finish it.  The meeting is in 15 minutes."   There is a burst of loud arguing on the other side of the line and Glen hears Nicatero voice yelling but sounding farther and farther away.  "DON'T LET THEM ASSIMILATE YOU" is the only sentence Glen could make out clearly before the phone line goes dead.

Staring blankly at the phone as he tries to make sense of the call, Glen rubs his temple trying to lessen the pounding in his head.  "What is going on today?"   Then it dawns on him.... "They're all getting back at me for my phone prank"  He laughs now fully relieved by his own realization.  "Those sneaky sons-of-bitches"   He starts to type on his laptop again as he shakes his head "Alright.  I'll play along now.  Let's see how far they'll take this"


To be continued......  Wouldn't want to disappoint the fans......

Glen Mazzara Fan Fictionara: Never Kid a Kidder

The crumpled ball of paper flew across the room and crashed into the wall before falling into the nearly full trash can. Glen raised his arms into the air cheering " He shoots....He scores!!" as his wife enters the room smiling at the sight of her husband.  "Are you still working on the finale rewrite?" she asked as she moves behind him and looks at the piles of notes all over the desk.  The computer screen illuminating his face as he looks up at her nodding. "Yes, but it's almost there." He glances down at his cell phone as it buzzes with yet another Twitter notification.  " Why don't you turn that thing off?" his wife chides as she gently rubs his shoulders. "Maybe you'll be able to focus more and actually get a good nights sleep for a change.". Glen taps his finger on his phone display and shrugs. "You're probably right but...." he looks back up at her smiling, " It's the fans"  She shakes her head as she leans over and kisses her husbands forehead. " I know.  You can't disappoint your fans." The softness in her eyes revealing that she admired the passion and dedication her husband has for his work.  She steps back but keeps her eyes locked on his. " Try not to stay up too much longer Glen.  You know how it affects you when you don't get enough sleep."  Glen chuckles as he nods his head " Yes Mother" he winks. " I shouldn't be much longer."

As she leaves the room, Glen turns back to the blank notepad and begins to tap his pen on the top sheet.

    Write....Crumple....Toss.
            Write....Crumple.....Toss.
                      Write.....Crumple.....Toss.

Glen eventually lays his pen down after 20 minutes or so of unsatisfactory storyline twists and stands to stretch his back and legs.  " I need a distraction for a few minutes.  Then I'll get this." Picking up his cell, he scrolls through the endless list of mentions and interactions until he sees a Tweet that brings a playful smile to his lips. "Lauren...Lauren....Lauren." he arches his brow and looks up Lauren Cohan's cell number. " Not a bad impersonation of me my dear.  But..." He presses dial. "Payback's a bitch." Quickly Glen clears his throat as the phone starts to ring. He knew she wouldn't answer since she and the rest of the cast was in the middle of an episode shoot in Georgia.  His smile grew as he heard her voicemail message begin to play. " Hi. You've reached Lauren....." As the message finished, Glen's face became serious and he began speaking with the most scary showrunner's voice he could muster. "Lauren, this is Glen.  Glen Mazzara.  First let me say what a terrific job you've been doing this season.  Really.   Second....well, we need to see you in the writer's room first thing in the morning.  First thing."
After a moment of silence, Glen burst out laughing and nearly drops the phone.  "PSYCH!!!! Just kidding.  Did I get you?  I know I did.  See what happens when you impersonate me on national TV...."

He hangs up the phone still laughing to himself. " That was fun"  He stares down at the phone still in his hand and decides to repeat the call with every member of the cast.  He starts with Steven Yeun and works all the way through to Norman Reedus.  Glen stops before dialing Andrew Lincoln's number, after recalling the overly convincing performance Andrew gave during his mental breakdown scene.  "Maybe not."

Glen puts down his phone and sits on his favorite recliner.  As his head leans back against the cushion, he chuckles to himself thinking about all the frantic calls he'll be receiving in the morning.

To be continued.......

Daryl Dixon Fan Fiction Part 4: Daryl's Deliverance

Daryl takes a deep breath and clenches his jaw as he turns back inside the room to retrieve Rick.  Throwing the motionless man over his shoulder, Daryl peers back outside of the door making sure the coast is clear.  He steps out into the hall with one last lingering glance over his shoulder in the direction he had heard her scream  "Hang in there Carol" he voices out loud as he adjusts Rick on his shoulder "I'll be right back.  Just hang on"  Daryl turns and makes his way back to their protected cell block in a hurry.

As he nears the block, he stops and looks back when he hears an even fainter scream coming from deep within the prison.  His whole body tenses as he lets out a low growl and turns the corner to the block gate.

He is greeted by the sight of Oscar and Carl holding guns up at him and yells "OPEN UP!!"  Immediately both lower there weapons and come rushing to the gate.  "Dad!!!" Carl cries out at the sight of his father slumped over Daryl's shoulder.  "He's fine kid" Daryl pats Carl's shoulder as he walks past him and into the first cell.  Gently he lays Rick down on the cot as the others follow in behind him.  "What happened?" Carl pleads.  "Is he....Is he bit?"  Daryl looks to the young boy and shakes his head.  "Nah, he's gonna be fine."  With a quick motion of his hand, he waves the others out of the cell and locks the door.  Oscar looks in at Rick then back at Daryl.  "Then why are you locking him up?"  Hershel clears his throat as he stands on his crutches "I'm guessing because Rick isn't himself.  At least not mentally right now."  Herschel nods to Daryl letting him know that he understands before continuing.  "He needs some rest"  Daryl nods back at Hershel as he pulls the crossbow back up onto his shoulder "Where are Maggie and Glen?"  He looks around the room questingly.  Beth looks down at the baby in her arms "They've gone to town for Formula and ammo"   Daryl shakes his head and walks toward the cell block gate.  "Wait" Carl grabs him by the arm "Where are you going?  You just got back"   Daryl looks down at Carl and then back out beyond the gate.  "There's something I gotta do.  I'll be back"  He leaves before anyone can question him any further.  He heard a scream and it sounded like Carol but there was no sense in getting anyones hope up just yet.  Besides, from the sound of that scream, there wasn't time.

Daryl worked his way through the twisting dark hallways keeping his weapon raised.  His eyes and ears were sharply focused as he returned to the spot he had first heard her scream.   There were still Walkers in this part of the prison, so he had to move cautiously but at the same time, the thought that Carol could be facing those same Walkers, made him all the more determined to proceed.  Each turn bringing him closer to finding his friend or running face to face with a horde of Walkers.
He passes several downed Walkers and he could picture Carol taking them out one at a time.  For a small lady, she had become one tough cookie these past several months.  Gone was the frail woman who cried every night over her lost little girl.  She was stronger now.  Daryl had helped her get that way just like she had helped him feel needed and valued in the group.  She had told him that he was every bit as good as the others and she meant it.  He started believing it because of her and now he needed to show it.  He had to find her.... Alive.

  The shuffling sound of dragging feet alarmed him to the surprise around the corner and he was ready for it. As he turned the bend, WHOSH, the arrow headed straight into the Walkers skull and down he went.  There were already several other Walker bodies on the floor.  So many that he had to step over a few of them in order to continue in the direction he wanted to go.  As Daryl stepped over a few Walkers piled together, he felt a hand reach out from the pile grabbing at his ankle. 

"Shit" he jumps back and twists around aiming his crossbow to the pile. The hand is small as its fingers continue to grasp for his leg. "I see you there" Daryl pulls back on his bow and prepares to fire.  "Daryl?"  a voice whispers from beneath the lifeless pile of Walker corpses.  He blinks down in shock as his crossbow lowers and he leans in pulling the top bodies aside. 

"Carol?" he mutters in disbelief as her face is revealed to him.  "You're alive"  Gently he reaches down and tests the warmth of her face to be sure.  Her face is bloodied and bruised.  The shine in her eyes is sunken in and her lips appear dry and crackled as well.  "Let's get you out of here"  Quickly and far too easily, he lifts her up into his arms.  She's too light from not eating and visibly exhausted Not to mention dehydrated, but she was alive.

 

 

Carol tries to speak but Daryl hushes her "Shhh.  I've got you."  A very small smile tries to appear on Carols lips as her head falls against Daryls shoulders.  Her eyes wearily close as she manages to whisper "I...knew...you'd...come"  Daryl's grip tightens around her frail form as he prepares to make the way back through the prison to the safety of their block.  He had finally saved someone he cares about and there isn't a Walker on earth that was taking her from him now.  At least not while he was alive.

Daryl Dixon Fan fiction Pt 3 - Daryl's Dilemma

 

 

 

Daryl moved cautiously through the prison as he searched for their once solid leader.  Aiming his crossbow into each empty cell looking for some sign that Rick had been nearby.  Other than a few mutilated remains of previous inmates, There didn't seem to be any indication leading Daryl in the direction to take but he wasn't giving up yet. 

 

Unsure of how much time had passed as he scoured yet another cell block, he thought that maybe he should check back on the others before they are dumb enough to send out a search party for him.  "Great" he thinks out loud "Then I'll have to go searchin for my search party.  Good Lord"

 

Daryl freezes in his footsteps when he spots the boiler room door.  Maggie had told him when they went out to find formula for Little Ass Kicker, that it was in this room that they had left Lori's remains.  Shaking his head, he pulls open the door knowing that if Rick had come this way, he'd been sure to enter as well.

 



Slowly he moves down the steps with his crossbow raised not knowing what he'll find within.  "Rick?" he calls out barely over a whisper but there's no response.  As he moves farther into the room he spies the blood stains and stray bone pieces scattered across the floor and he knows what Lori's fate had been. 

Following the smeared blood trail, he sees the walker slumped against the wall and he moves closer. "Hey" he calls out angrily "You there."  When there is no movement, Daryl kicks the body with his foot while keeping steady aim at his skull.  When the body is jostled, it falls over revealing it's smashed in skull.  "I guess you met Rick"  He lowers the crossbow and lifts his boot up over it's head "Don't suppose you know where he went?"  In one swift motion, Daryls boot slams down completely crushing what was left of the Walkers head.  "Didn't think so.  That was for Lori"

After about another hour, Daryl hears movement and what sounded like a psychotic growl coming from ahead.  He moves in the direction of the commotion and turns the corner just as Rick is crashing an axe into a lone walkers head.

 

 

"Rick" Daryl calls after seeing that Rick took out his prey.  Rick doesn't answer but stands over the fallen walker, staring down at his latest kill with his axe still embedded in his skull.  Daryl takes a few steps closer but remains a safe distance away after Glenn remarked at how Rick had greeted him earlier.  "Are you here Rick?" he questions not really sure he doesn't already know the answer.

 

 

 

Ricks muscles jerk and he slowly turns around facing Daryl.  Daryl knew for sure that part of Rick was completely checked out of reality, but he had experienced similar situations when dealing with Merle on one of his many drug binges.  "Rick, we need to get back to the block with the others"  He watched as Rick stood silently staring back at him with wild eyes.  "You probably sounded the dinner bell to every walker in here with all that noise you were making"  Rick lips curl into a meancing smile "Good" he growls out "Let them come" Daryl's patience runs out and he moves next to Rick grabbing hold of his fore arm.  "You're coming back with me even if I have to drag you there"  Ricks reaction was quicker than Daryl had anticipated as he is thrown back against a nearby wall.  "I'm staying right here" Rick states coldly "I'm killing every one of those...things"  He turns to go retrieve his axe and Daryl seizes his oppportunity.

 

 

 

Lunging off of the wall, he tackles Rick to the ground and holds him there "Listen to me"  he commands as Rick looks up at him furiously struggling to get free "You got family back there Dammit!  They need you"  Rick calms for a brief second but loses control again "THEY NEED ME TO KILL MORE" he yells loudly.  Daryl holds his hand over Ricks mouth "What are you trying to do?  Bring them all to us? "  Daryl looks in both directions then back down at Rick.  "Your son just lost his mother.  You determined on him losing his father too?"  Lifting his hand off of Ricks mouth slowly when he sees the emotion registering in his friends eyes.  "I lost my wife" Rick's voice raw with pain.  "I couldn't keep her safe.  I'm keeping Carl safe doing this"  Daryl stands up and offers his hand to Rick.  "I know" Daryl nods as Rick accepts his hand and stands up.  "But we need to do this together.  Not on suicide missions" 

 

 

 

The heads of both men turn when they hear the metal door hit the wall.  The next sound they heard were the moans of approaching walkers.  "Shit" Daryl mutters under his breath.  "My axe" Ricks eyes move to the body possessing his only weapon but it lies in the path of the oncoming threat.  "No time" Daryl looks at Rick whose eyes start to gloss over once more as he focuses on the possibility of more kills.  Reacting fast, Daryl grabs hold of Rick and forces him into a nearby room and locks the door with his master key.  "We can hide out here til they pass"  He instructs but Rick is gone again mentally "Let me out!" Rick growls as he pushes Daryl aside and makes a move to open the door.  Knowing that the noise alone will draw the walkers right to them Daryl does the only thing he can to save them both.  He raises the handle of his crossbow over Ricks head and plows it down rendering Rick unconcious.  "Sorry brother.  I had to"

 

 

 

Daryl leans against the wall near Rick and sinks down to the floor laying his crossbow beside him.  He looks over at his friend and shakes his head with guilt for having to hurt a man he respects but he had left him no choice.  "We'll just wait it out and by then you'll be up"  he sighs as he pulls his knife out of its sheath and begins running it along the ground as he waits  "We'll head back when they're gone.  Then you can hit me.  I got it comin"

 

After a while, the noise outside the room goes away and Daryl unlocks the door to peek outside.  The corridor looks clear and he turns to go try to wake Rick.  As the door is nearly shut, he hears a sound that rips a chill through him.  It was a scream coming from farther away in the prison.  A womans scream.  " Carol?" he whispers hopefully.  He pulls the door open about to chase after the sound but looks back at the still unconscious Rick.  He could lock the door behind him and Rick would be perfectly safe inside.  But then if Rick wakes up, there will be nothing keeping him from returning to his homicidal/suicidal mission.  "God dammit!" Daryl punches the door as he quickly decides what to do.







Daryl Dixon Fan Fiction Pt 2 - Daryl's Decision

Daryl watches with satisfaction as the lone walker symbolically falls to the cold ground on the other side of the fence.  Without another glance, he turns back toward the cell block entrance and makes his way across the yard once more.  Stopping just before the concrete, he kneels down and thrusts the blade into the dirt to remove any trace of where it had just been.  With a quick swipe of the metal across his pant leg, he stands and reenters the prison closing the door behind him.

 

Once he is inside, he is alarmed by the screeching cry of a baby coming from inside Cell Block C and he takes off.  "What is it?" he looks around at the group as they all stand huddled around the crying infant.  Carl rocks his baby sister back and forth in his arms as he looks back to Daryl with panic in his eyes.  "She won't stop crying" he blurts out as he continues to rock.  "We've tried everything and she won't stop.  I think there's something wrong with her"  Maggie steps forward and lifts the baby from Carls arms and attempts to quiet her with a bottle.  Daryl moves over to Maggie's side and watches anxiously as the bottle is greeted by yet another peircing cry.  "Let me try" Daryl reaches out for the baby and all eyes in the room look over at him with mild surprise.  "What" Daryl scowls as he lifts baby girl Grimes and lays her within his own arms. "Y'all think I can't handle no baby?"  Maggie quickly extends the bottle to Daryl who shakes his head at everyone as he accepts it and looks down at the baby.  "They're wrong.  Ain't that right Little Ass Kicker?  Uncle Daryl's got ya now.  You can stop all that cryin"  Carl moves over to Daryl and points to his baby sister. "Her name isn't little Ass Kicker"  Daryl looks up with a raised brow "Ain't nobody come up with nothin different. So until they do, thats what I'm callin her."  Carl's lips start to move but he hesitates when Beth steps forward and interrupts.  "She's stopped crying"  Everyone looks down at the now smiling baby and then back at Daryl.  "See" Daryl smiles back at everyone "She likes the name"  He presses the tip of the bottle to the infants lips who takes it hungrily.

 

 

"I tried feeding her" Carls brows crease with frustration.  Glen walks over and pats Carl on the back consolingly. "Looks like Daryl just seems to have a way with the ladies"   Daryl shakes his head and gives a slight roll of his eyes at Glenn but his attention returns to the small bundle in his arms.  "Eat up Little Ass Kicker" The babys small hands move around the bottle as she feeds and Daryl looks over toward Herschel.  "Has Rick come back yet?"  Herschel who had been smiling as he watched the small child, shakes his head somberly "No.  Not since he came by this morning to check on Carl" 

 

 

 Daryl walked over to Carl and gently handed his sister back to him.  "You be quiet for you big brother girlie.  Uncle Daryl is gonna go find your Daddy"  Carl cradled his sister but his eyes widened. "I want to go too.  I can help you find him"   Maggie stood behind Carl and put her hand on Carl's shoulder as Daryl stood back up. "No.  You stay here and keep an eye on Little ass...I mean your little sister"  Carl looks down at his sister and nods. "Alright" he replies but the disappointment is barely hidden in his voice.

Daryl picks up his crossbow and walks toward the cell block gate.  Herschel motions him over and in hushed tones he questions Daryls course of action.  "Do you really think he'll come back with you?"  Daryl looks over at Carl holding his little sister and looks back to Hershel.  "He ain't got no choice.  They need their Daddy"  Without another word, Daryl walks out of the block, locking the gate behind him.



I choose to be a F.A.T.T.I.E.

Wouldn't it be nice if all the little white lies and partial truths that people tell us to avoid hurting our feelings were true?

You're not fat....You're just big boned.

 

No...those jeans don't make your butt look big

 

You're beautiful on the inside...thats what counts.

 

How many of us have heard any of these or perhaps said similar things to others?  I know I've heard them most of my life.  Yes, the people telling me these things were being polite.  They were being nice.  Unlike the people on the other side of the spectrum that delight in being cruel or hurtful.  The ones that take pride in tearing others down to make themselves feel more significant.  

In the end though, neither of them are very good for us in the long run.  The cruel jerks beat down on our self esteem and make us feel worthless or at the very least cause us to shed a few tears.  The friends however, in my opinion, are doing more damage.  By giving us the perception that we are far better off than what we actually are, we become complacent in regards to what we need to do.  Our "friends" wouldn't lie to us?  Truth is though, we are lying to ourselves if we accept the kind words because they are more comforting. 

Facts are facts. 

Any medical professional will tell you that men and women alike have definite height to weight ratios.  If you fall too far above, or too far below, that ratio....you're unhealthy. Sure, you may feel fine.   At your last check up, your cholesterol was good.  Your blood pressure was perfect.  All in all you were in good shape.  Ok, so you've gained some weight.  It's not a big deal , you'll lose it eventually right?  Here's the question though.  How do you plan on losing it?  When do you plan on losing it?

I have been overweight my entire life.  I was never happy with that fact but at the same time, I was never in any hurry to remedy it.  As the years went by, I slowly packed on the pounds and before I knew it, the scale was peaking at 320.  Not only that, I was in the early stages of Type II Diabetes.  Whoa!!!  How did that happen?  I've always had low blood pressure.  My cholesterol is perfect.  I've "dieted".  I was even on the High School Fencing team...way back when,  How did I end up over 300 pounds and diabetic? 

The answer is simple.  I ignored the truth.  No...I am not 'Big-Boned'  Yes...my butt made those pants look small.  And although I am beautiful on the inside, my outside needed alot of work.
I was in denial all my life.  Even though down deep I knew I was fat, I would rather be told the polite white lies than hear the truth from the ones close to me.  Their opinions are what matter, not the jerk that gets off on yelling 'Hey Fatso'.  It's the people who we admire and respect that need to be straight with us.  We need the cold splash of reality thrown in our face.  We need to act now before we wake up one day over 300 pounds and diabetic...or before we wake up in a hospital bed....or before we don't wake up at all. 

I've set myself on the road to a healthier reality.  I weigh less now than I did 15 years ago and my diabetes is currently dormant.  Although I still have quite a way to go before I fall back into my proper ratio, I'm determined to get there.  And when I do, I'll no longer be fat....but I will ALWAYS be a F.A.T.T.I.E.

Daryl Dixon Fan Fiction Pt 1 - Daryl's Revenge (Adult Language)

The sky was clear and allowed an unobstructed view of the stars as Daryl made his way around the perimeter of the prison yard.  He stops by the guard tower to rub his chilled hands together as his breath steams from between the firm lines of his lips.   The cold weather lately making the extra responsibilities protecting their new home more difficult.  "Home" Daryl shakes his head at the thought and lets out a low laugh.  "Who would've thought I'd be calling a prison home and liking it?" 
As Daryl completed his final turn around the yard, his thoughts turn to the infant waiting inside.   Ever since her arrival, Daryl found himself even more determined to step up and keep his new family safe.  They were depending on him and he was not going to let them down. Not like he had let her down.
Daryl's hand sinks into his pants pocket where he grips the cloth of Carols head scarf.  His eyes close as he fights off the grief of losing the one woman who had never backed away from him.  God knows he had tried to push her away, but she stood her ground.  He hesitates outside of the cell block door trying to regain his resolve, but the thoughts of her body lying alone somewhere in the prison sets him off.  He turns away from the door and raising his middle finger to the clear night sky above.  "Fuck you!!"  His voice echoes across the prison yard.  "You're a sick son of a bitch, you know that?"  He looks up waiting for a response that he knows will never come.  "She didn't deserve to die.  She didn't deserve none of this."  Daryl's eyes stare coldly across the yard when he notices a walker clinging to the outside fence.  "What the hell do you want?  Haven't you done enough?"  He walks with a hard pace across the yard in the direction of the walker as he continues to yell.  "Sofia wasn't enough?  Merle...Lori..."  His knife slides out of it's sheath as he nears the fence. "Dale?  When will it be enough?"  The Walkers gurgled moan is the only response given as Daryl raises his knife into the air.  "You're not getting any more of us."  The knife comes down with blunt force through the links of the fence and into the Walkers skull.  "Not a single one"  Daryl pulls the knife out as it's intended target slides down the fence and onto the ground.

Forever Imprinted

When we are born, if we are lucky, its into a family that will love and guide us throughout our lives.  But outside of that natural support system, we are born alone.  As we grow and advance through our life, we meet individuals along the way.  Some are brief encounters.  Some lifelong.  We meet some face to face and others we come into contact with in ways that our parents could never have imagined when they were our age.   The internet has bridged the world together and through that we have all gained access to people and ideas that would never have had the opportunity to discover without its aid.
Whether you meet someone in person or online, whether the encounter is brief or lasts the long haul, they all have influence on us.  They all make some imprint on our soul.  I never thought that a person I spoke to online that lived thousands of miles away, could have that kind of impact on me.  And now I have felt that impact from many. 
I lost...correction, many of us lost one of our imprints yesterday.  For those that knew this individual in person, I envy you.  My contact was limited to online, but I know in my soul that the contact lifted me.  This person was good and kind and sincere of heart and I am forever grateful to have had the brief contact that I was given.   As much as I mourn the loss of this imprint, I rejoice in the fact that it will remain on my soul forever. 
Goodbye my friend.  From afar you brought me happiness and the good fortune of saying that I was your friend.

Chasing A Dream

In another world

And another place.

We would still see

Your shining face.

On any night

In any dream.

Things would be different.

Not as they seem.

The fates would grant us

Just one more chance.

To not be here

In this desolate trance.

Our lives were graced

By the existence of you.

All the good you gave

Forever remains true.

If we close our eyes

We can dream that you're near.

Pretend we still have you

The one we hold dear.

Chasing a dream

That will never fade.

It will live on in us forever

Through the memories we've made.

 

Vanessa Blood

Scales were Invented by Men.

Scales were Invented by Men....

In a conversation I had earlier with a friend, I made this statement and I feel the need to elaborate.  See, this friend was feeling a little too down on herself and that did not sit well with me.  Like myself, she is striving to lose weight and also like me, she was discouraged by an unmoving number on a scale.  I can relate to this discouragement all too well.  I have spent many a morning stepping on and off my scale in hopes that the number will miraculously lower itself on the next attempt.
I first asked her if her clothes were fitting looser.  She was on to my approach though and her mood did not seem affected by the knowledge that muscle weighs more than fat.  That, although the scale was not moving, she was in fact losing weight.  This is when I fired out my statement from above. 

Repeat after me....Scales were invented by men.

I don't mean this to be offensive to our male counterparts ladies.  Not at all.  But let's face it.  How many times have we heard someone say "He's a big boy"   That is a compliment.  Now think about it.  How many times has "She's a big girl" been meant in the same way?   Men are positively associated with bigger.   Men work out to increase their size while us ladies generally work out to decrease it.  The bigger the better is true of most things in the male world.  Bigger muscles...bigger appetites...bigger "body parts" .  Don't giggle.  I was referring to the acceptability of the male beer gut, of course.

How does this relate to men being the inventor of the scale?  Well, like men, scales take things at face value.   You, in a sense, ask it a question and it gives you back an answer. The answer being what does your body weigh at that moment. It does not take into consideration that the person stepping on may be PMS'ing and therefore the excess water weight should be deducted.  The scale does not know that the person hovering over it may have had a bad day at work or is stressed out over finances.  No.  Why should it?  Does the scale care that you had a huge fight with your significant other and therefore were ENTITLED to that bowl of Ben & Jerry's.  It should subtract weight for the vigorous workout you will be doing the next day when the guilt seeps in for eating the stupid ice cream in the fiirst place!

Going even further, the scale just tells you what you weigh.  It doesn't tell you how much better you look in your clothes lately.  (or out of them).  Doesn't that dam scale know that us ladies need support and encouragement!  Is it that hard to pay us a compliment every now and then?

Takes a deep breath

 

 

Whoa...started to get a little dramatic there for a sec.  Sorry about that. The point I'm trying to make is that although the scale is very informative, it does not take all into account.  And therefore we should not place it on such a high pedestal.  When the numbers on the scale seem immobile, keep in mind all the other things before disparaging and putting yourself down.  Muscle does IN FACT weigh more than fat.  When your clothes fit looser or oh, I don't know...start to fall off.  That says way more than any scale ever will.  Body weight breaks down in many ways as our bodies transform.  Take each little transformation and treasure it like it was gold,  cause guess what?  It is.

Today is the Day

Today is the day, you'll see.

That I will become a better me.

Today I will rise early,

And put on my best business suit.

I will kiss my wife as she sleeps.

And I will follow that familiar route.

I leave the house silently.

Careful not to wake.

I smile at my sleeping child

With the last quick look I take.

Then I'm out the door.

The sky still shrouded in dark.

I turn the key in the ignition

And take the car out of park.

Today is the day, I keep thinking.

I will ace this interview.

Then going forward, things will be better.

I breathe deep and know it's true.

As I reach the ferry station,

I gather what is mine.

Grasping my new briefcase

As I step into the ticket line.

The sun slowly begins rising

As I slide the teller my cash.

She says the ferry is soon leaving.

So I take off with a dash.

I barely catch my ride

And I relish in my luck.

I'm going to get this job, I repeat.

My life is no longer stuck.

I look across the water

At the Twin Towers way up in the sky.

My future is up there, I whisper.

Not knowing that today

is the day I would die.

This is dedicated to all the men in women who left home early on the morning of September 11th, 2001, and never came home.  

NEVER FORGET

 

 

I know this should have been posted yesterday, but it didn't come to me until late last night. 

Loving the Rain

The rays of sunlight shining brightly through the blinds managed to seek out Emily's eyes no matter which way she turned.  With a groan she gave up on her attempt to harness a few more moments of slumber and pulled her comforter aside before sitting up.  After stretching and giving her still struggling eyes a rub, her attention turns towards her desk and the laptop she had purchased for herself as a splurge gift last Christmas.  Raising one eyebrow to the device as she gets up off the bed and slides into her pink bunny slippers before walking to the desk.  "Maybe today will be the day" she whispers to herself hopefully as she sits down and lifts the lid to her laptop.  With a few keystrokes and her breath unknowingly held, Emily signs into her Twitter account and swiftly checks her mentions.  "Nothing" she sighs with a slump of her shoulders and a huff of her breath being released.  Quickly regaining her positive outlook, she smiles brightly and begins to write another poem in her Campaign for a Boom collection.  "This will be the one he sees" her finger hesitating over the send button "I just hope I'm not over doing it. "  Biting lightly on her lower lip as she contemplates her course of action before pressing down on the button and closing the lid to her laptop once more "He won't get annoyed.  I'm writing poems.  A form of artistic expression.  He'll think its cool" She nods her head as she attempts to make her own words sound convincing.  "He likes artistic and I'm a fan.  He loves his fans."  Smiling as she pushes back the chair and stands again. "Today I'm getting a BOOM.  It's going to be the best day ever"

"Today is the WORST day ever" Emily cries out as she kicks the flattened tire of her car.  The sun from earlier in the morning had disappeared and was replaced by a horrifically torrential downpour.  It was if the weather somehow was reflecting her own mood.  The electricity had gone out at home when she was trying to get her daughter ready for school.  So of course they managed to miss the bus.   This reality pointed out to her after a neighbor saw them standing in the pouring rain at the bus stop.  "The bus already came by here girls"  she yelled out through her open car window "right before you came out"  Emily thanked her for letting them know and waved as her neighbor pulled out back onto the road.  But as luck would have it, the neighbors back tire went through a small pothole and sent muddy water back at Emily and her daughter.  The neighbor drove off unaware of what happened as Emily scooped her daughter and headed back into her house.  Changing as quickly as possible, the two jump into Emily's car and head over to the school.  Once her daughter is inside the building, Emily looks at her soaked reflection in the rearview mirror shaking her head. "Today HAS to be the day"  Reaching into her purse, Emily pulls out her phone and quickly opens her Twitter app.  "Days not over yet"  she reaffirms herself when there are no mentions from him.  Her face brightens when she sees some of her Twitter friends retweeting her poems and increasing the chances that he'll see her request. "Boom baby...just one BOOM"

About a half mile away from the school is when she hears it.  BOOM!!!!  Her rear tire explodes and she barely manages to veer the car over to the shoulder. "Not now" she looks down at the car clock "I'm supposed to be at the dentists office in 2o minutes"  She steps out of the car and walks back to inspect the tire.  It's completely in pieces.  "Great...just great"  The rain begins to pour down even heavier as if it was deliberately trying to make her day worse.  Trying not to let the situation get to her, she crosses her fingers and checks the trunk to see if she still has a spare tire.  "Yes!" she calls out and reaches into her pocket to make a call.  She doesn't exactly know how to change a tire but she has friends that do.

As she begins to dial the number, she feels the ground rumble under her feet.  As she looks up, a large 18 wheeler drives by her and sends a wave of water in her direction.  Jumping back quickly, but not quick enough, the wall of water crashes down on her as the cell phone manges to slip from her grasp and lands in a deep muddy pool of water "Nooooooo!!!!!" she cries out as the phone splashes into the water.  She grabs for it but its too late.  The soaked cell phone no longer works.  Emily's breaths become deep as she turns back toward her car and she gives the flat tire a good swift kick "TODAY IS THE WORST DAY EVER!!!!!" 

As she feels the last strand of positive wash out of her body, Emily hears the roar of an approaching motor.  When she turns to look, a motorcycle pulls up along side of her and the driver motions to her tire "Looks like you could use some help babe"  Emily nods her head hesitantly at the stranger.  His helmet hiding his face  as he cimbs off the bike and walks over to inspect the tire. "You got a spare sweetie?"  Emily rushes to the trunk and reaches in for the tire. "I got it.  You're soaked.  Go sit in the car out of the rain babe and I'll take care of this."  Emily looks at the stranger for a moment "Are you sure?"  He waves her off and nods his head "I'm sure.  Now get in the car before you get psnuemonia"  Emily wasn't sure why she trusted her helmeted hero but she did as she was told and got back into her car as the man began working on changing her tire.  With her window partially rolled down, the two spoke about how bad her day had been going and they laughed.  "Sounds like you need something to cheer you up today" the man commented.  Emily feeling her spirits already lifting, proceeded to tell her hero about her attempts to get a boom from one of her favorite celebrities, Norman Reedus.  The man looked up from her tire and nodded to her "Well...good luck with that"   He went back to working on her car and she groaned inwardly for telling him such a ridiculous story.  Without another word, she watched through the rain streaked windows as she felt the car being raised up by the small manual jack she had in the trunk.  He was doing all of this with her sitting in the car.  "God I owe him"  She looked around her car desperately trying to find some way to compensate him for his help.  In her glove compartment she came across a small box.  When she pulled it out she knew instantly what it was.  "My Boondock Saints cross" she whispered "I forgot it was even in there" 

Just then the man knocked on the glass window to let Emily know he was finished.  The sound startles her and she jumps in her seat "I'm sorry babe" the man apologizes "The tire is all fixed"  He looks up at the sky and then back down at her "Looks like the rain is letting up too.  Maybe your day will get better after all"  Emily smiles and opens the car door as he steps back "Thank you so much.  I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come along"  The man nods his head "No problem babe.  Just glad I could help"  Emily slowly holds the small box out to the man "I can't pay you for your help...but I want you to have this"  He looks down at the box and shakes his head "Thats not necessary sweetie"  Emily nods her head back "I insist"  He takes the box from her and opens it revealing the celtic cross inside. "That's awesome babe.  Thank you"  After a few more words, the man gets back onto his motorcycle and drives away.  Emily looks up just as the clouds part and the bright beam of sun shines down onto her smiling face. 

Later, when Emily comes home, she sits down at her desk and thinks back over her day.  She laughs and shakes her head at how easily she let a few things bring her down.  A few easily fixed things.  Tires go flat.  Rains falls.  Things get wet.  What she realized today was that tires are replaceable.  The sun always comes out again and sometimes ...just sometimes....good things happen in the rain.  "I think I'll make a poem about that" she says to herself as she signs onto her Twitter account.  "Norman would really like that one"  As her account comes up, she notices her Mention light and clicks on it with out thinking.  Her hand feezes hoovering over her keyboard when she sees the name highlighted on her screen. Her heart pounds in her chest as her hand begins to shake.  Her eyes scanning over one brief message...over and over and over and over again.  The message reading...

@wwwbigbaldhead  BOOM baby!!!  Thanks for my cross. It's awesome!




 

Emily4Flanery

Emily4Flanery is a talented lass.
She's sweetly endearing, plus she has a touch of sass.
She has a gift for rhyming that she likes to share.
She uses it to express herself with a touch of flair.
When asked if she wants something, not enough can be said.
Especially when what's she after is a BOOM from wwwbigbaldhead.
Her request is very simple, an obviously easy task.
And the way she's writing poems, is a unique way for her to ask.
It shows her dedication and her creativity too.
But most of all Mr. Reedus, it shows her admiration of you.
So please support her campaign and send her that single tweet.
Then know with absolute certainty that your boom will knock her off her feet.

Progression Regression

Hi there.  It's me again.  You remember me right?  I'm the one that was blogging so much about my weight loss.  I know I've been kinda quiet lately and well....I can explain that.
I have been lacking in the blog department because I've been lacking in the weight loss department as well.  And to be completely honest, I'm embarrassed even though I have no reason to be. 
I am down 70+ pounds from when my weight loss adventure began.  That is amazing.  I am still slightly over 100 pounds away from my goal though and I hate when I plateau like I am now.  I have plateaued in the past but I knew the reasons then.  I was just plain lazy.  I reached and sat at 50 lounds lost until joining a gym last May.  Since then I've lost the other 20 pounds.  In the last month though I have barely lost anything.  I go to the gym when I can.  Granted I slowed down when I had other things tying me down but this past week, I went 6 out of 7 days.  I get 30 minutes cardio and then move to the equipment.  Due to my lap band, I CAN NOT over eat.  I drink a protein shake for breakfast and lunch.  Dinner varies but most often it consists of Soup or Salad.  My weakness lately has been salty snacks.   Not chocolate or sweets as most dieters crave.  I have had major cravings for salt. With all that said.....did I lose anything this week?  No.  I actually gained weight.  Ok, so its only a pound, but I am pulling my hair out over it because I can't figure out what I'm doing that could be so backwards.  I have been given completely sensible advice from many but I still feel discouraged with myself.  I know that from working out I am gaining muscle which weighs more than fat.  I KNOW that I am always getting compliments from all kinds of people for the changes they see in me.  And I know that I have gone from a size 26 to a now loose fitting size 20. 
Knowing all of this should be pushing the discouragement away but what can I say?  I'm greedy.  I want more, or should I say less.  But fear not,  even as discouraged and disappointed as I feel with my progress, I have not and WILL NOT stop moving forward.  I just have to hope that my efforts will not go unrewarded and my body will catch up in reality to what I see myself being.

You Have Today

So many expressions and sayings are running through my head right now that I don't know where to begin this.  We've heard them all and although we understand their meaning, I have to wonder if we FEEL their meaning as well?

Live for the moment.

Carpe Diem.

Why put off til tomorrow, what you can do today.

Today is the first day of the rest of your life.

What none of these expressions and sayings are conveying is that the future is unknown to us.  No one knows what tomorrow will bring.  We don't even know with absolute certainty, what the next minute will bring.  Life comes at us so fast.  That is only truly realized when we look back at it all and reflect.  When we are thinking ahead to our future, everything seems so far away.  But in a blink of an eye, what seemed so distant, flashes by us and we think "Where did all the time go?" 

We were once children playing dodge ball in the playground.  We were once students at our graduations.  Some of us once were first time terrified parents.   Now those tiny little fragile children have grown and we think.... They grow so fast.

Everything in our lives is a blessing.  Every second is a gift.  Enjoy it all.  For even after a moment passes by in a flash, it is still yours to hold in your memory and in your heart.  Tomorrow is beyond unpredictable.   It is not promised to anyone.  You have today.  The here and the now.   Make the most of each opportunity.  Give your heart to your dreams.  Don't waste a single moment under the belief that there's always tomorrow.  Most likely we all have many tomorrows coming our way, but nothing in life is guaranteed except the end of it.

There is a Starbucks where I work and visit frequently.  One of the supervisors/managers there is a very pleasant young man named Cesar.  Cesar always shared a pleasant smile and conversation whenever I came in.  In those conversations, I learned Cesar was working very hard toward his and his girlfriends future life together.  Yesterday, at the age of 27, Cesar died in a motorcycle accident.  He was not sick.  He was not murdered.  He was not killed in some horrific act of violence or nature.  At 27 years old, his future ended.  When I was told about the accident, all I could see in my mind was his smile.  I did not know him outside of his workplace but knowing that a smile that sincere is gone forever, makes me realize even more how much I need to appreciate today.