gomer-b

Excerpt from the diary I found in the crashed car:

May 4th,

I went grocery shopping. Picked up that new brand of milk Kaylee is always talking about. Found this discarded shopping list by the meat counter.
list reads:
carrots
roast beef
fruit loops
orange juice
mouthwash

I can feel the depression all around me. It is trying to be suck me in. All I can see is her face. That face is seared into my conscience. I can't sleep. I feel like I know her from reading her diary. I see her in every woman I encounter on the street or see in a grocery store. She could be anyone of these people. She could be my mother. She could be me. I know I should be happy that I have more days to live, but I just can't shake the feeling that she deserved more. I wonder if she had any family. She didn't mention them much. I need to call my mother. I wonder how she is doing. I just can't make myself pick up the phone. I wish I could speak to her.

I miss my family.

Grandma Lucy will always hold a special place in my heart. I loved to listen to her stories. Her stories were the best. Full of adventure and mystery. Grandma Lucy grew up on a farm. She woke up every day at 4 am to feed the chickens and help milk the cows. Her favorite chore was feeding and caring for her horse Jo. Grandma and Jo were the best of friends. Grandma told me that she always snuck off and rode Jo into the woods near their farm. The woods were quiet and full of wondrous creatures.
Squirrels, raccoons, deer and foxes roamed freely. Grandma and Jo would ride to her favorite spot by the creek and talk for hours about everything in life. What the girls would say at school or what boy Grandma had a crush on. Even as a child I knew that Jo couldn't talk, but I believed Grandma when she said that Jo understood her.
Grandma would tell how when the first boy she liked made fun of her at school, Jo would lay her head on Grandma's head and just let Grandma hold her and cry.
As Grandma grew older she found that she didn't have as much time to spend with Jo.
While Grandma was in college, Jo passed away. Grandma said she cried more at Jo's funeral than she did at Grandpa's.
"But don't get me wrong I loved your Grandpa," she would always say.

I guess you could say that Grandma Lucy was my inspiration for becoming a story teller. As soon as I could talk I was weaving tales into my very ordinary life. "Mom, Billy the cow, won't stop following me around the house. Make him stop!" I would yell to my mom. She would just roll her eyes and continue on with her work.
My parents encouraged my imagination and enjoyed it when I would put on plays for them. My school teachers did not appreciate my talent as much. One day in second grade I had convinced the entire class that I had rabies. The kids around me started screaming and when the teacher ran over to my desk she saw what I was bleeding from my mouth. She ran me to the school nurse who quickly diagnosed me with a cut on the inside of my mouth. As you can imagine my principal was not pleased with my dramatic skills. I remember sitting out side her office as my parents walked in. They were trying to look stern, but I knew they weren't mad at me. This was proven once we entered the office and sat down in front of Mrs. Bell's desk. She sternly glared over her glasses at us and said "We do not take this kind of behavior lightly!" My parents soothed her over, but never said they would punish me. Once I got home they told me I had a great imagination and to never let anyone discourage me. They of course told me it probably would be better if I didn't pretend to have such a sickness in school again.

My parents did have to crack down on me eventually. They had left me in the care of a new babysitter while they went out to dinner one night. I told my babysitter that my best friend was missing. I couldn't find him anywhere. I hold her how James and I had been playing by the creek on the side of my house and we met some old guys fishing. When I turned around to find him he was gone. I had gone up and down the creek looking for him and I couldn't find him. I was so hysterical that my babysitter panicked and called the police. The police spent hours searching the neighborhood while I hid in my closet. I could hear the helicopter flying overhead.
When my parents got home they thought something had happened to me. When the babysitter told them my friend James was the one missing, the yelling started. "Necia! Necia, get down here right now! Where are you hiding!" I knew that didn't sound good, but I went down to find out what would happen. My parents then informed the police that James was my imaginary friend and the search was called off.
The police chief was furious with me. Even though I was only nine he yelled at me
until my father made him stop. Once the police was gone and the babysitter reassured that it wasn't her fault, the "talk" happened. I then learned the difference
between telling a "story" for entertainment and telling a "lie" that caused fear and
worry in people.

Even after that incident I still didn't quite understand where the truth ended
and the story began.

--Necia

Today I was walking down my street
admiring the pumpkins that seem
to be on every doorstep. I love
fall. The leaves turning colors.
Slight chill in the air. Hint of
what is to come.
I found a diary near the crash site.
I think it might have belonged to the
woman in the car.
I know I should give it back, but
something is holding me back.
I have been reading it. Nothing
fancy just moments in someone's
life. Maybe I will post some
here, maybe not.
I feel like an intruder in
someone's head.
I am probably the worst person
to be keeping something so
personal.
When you see someone at their
absolute worst. When their
life has been taken from them
it leaves a bitter taste in
your mouth.
Reading this diary makes me
feel like I am able to know
her, when life was good or
at least when life was ordinary.


--necia

Today I was sitting in my apartment just
staring at the wall. The blinking sign
outside of my window reminded me that
I haven't eaten in awhile. I don't even
know how long I was sitting there.
I looked around the my very small apartment
and all I can see were the dirty clothes and
old food containers lying around. I don't
remember the last time I really paid
attention to how messy this place is.
I decided to search my kitchen for something
to eat and, of course, discovered nothing so
I decided to at least straighten up the place.
As I began to gather up my clothes I heard
screeching tires and a loud crash outside.

I ran to the window to see what was happening
and I saw a horrific crash. I knew someone had
to be hurt so I grabbed my phone and ran down
the stairs. When I reached the car I could
see that the person was hurt and hurt bad.
I called 911 and told them they needed to get
someone out there immediately! I really don't
know any first aid and I wanted to help the
woman, but I didn't know what to do. I asked
the operator what to do and she told me all
I could do was wait. It seemed like hours had
passed before the ambulance arrived on scene.
When they finally arrived they had to use the
Jaws of Life to get the woman out of the car.
It was clear at that moment that the woman wasn't
alive. I started to scream and one of the
emergency workers grabbed me and took me away
from the scene. I can't describe the feeling I
had when I saw that woman's face so badly damaged.
It was awful.
I couldn't sleep.
All I could see was her face.
It still haunts me.

--necia

Fish is all I see at work.
Fish balloons.
Fish emails.
Fish paper.
Fish everything.
I am tired of all the Fish
paraphernalia when the
company isn't even
following the Fish
program!!!!

I decided to participate in NanoWrimo
again this year. I am not a writer
so joining this challenge is purely
for fun.Last year I didn't get very
far along. I decided to use the
back stories from last year and
write a whole new book this year.
I have tons of ideas now, but I just
know that as soon as November hits
I will lose all inspiration. I hope
that doesn't happen. I am writing
as much back story and plot ideas
now so it will be much easier to
write.

I slept on the floor in the living room
today.
I have a nice comfortable bed upstairs
with my sweet husband in it,
but I slept on the floor.
Just couldn't sleep at all when I was
bed.
So frustrating.

i'm a little crazed right now.
been jittery all day.
just frustrated and annoyed.
can't believe they canceled Carnivale.
i am so upset that they left us just
hanging. i hope they can do something
to complete the story whether it a book
or a movie.
something.
don't get me started on really good
canceled shows.
Firefly for example.
what a great show.
at least there is a movie that helps
fill in the holes.
my coworker and i can talk about
weird tv shows all night long.
most people just walk away
because they have no idea what we are
talking about.
i love being lead at work and having a
bunch of newbies starting. they ask
questions that i can answer and i sound
like such an intelligent person. one
newbie even called me brilliant. of
course anyone having worked here longer
than 2 months knows i am no genius. :)
i think i have consumed too much caffeine
today. i always forget that diet soda still
has caffeine and that de-caf coffee has....
caffeine in it. duh!
anyway i will get to go home soon.
can't wait.
get to watch desperate housewives,
charmed,
and crossing jordon.
good times.

My memories need glasses.
They are all fuzzy and hard to recall.
Don't ask me about growing up, 'cuz I
can't remember. Ask my sisters instead.
Don't ask me about last year, ask my husband.

When I was in second grade I was told I needed
glasses. With my low self esteem I refused to
wear them. I didn't want to be called a nerd.
From then until high school life was a blur. I
always had to sit near the chalkboard because I
couldn't see.

In high school I decided to get glasses for the
first time. I was amazed at how clear everything
was. I could see the leaves in the trees and
everything was so much brighter.

Now 15 yrs later I still wear glasses to see,
but my memories are fuzzy and out of focus.
I can't remember much at all. I could really
use those magic memory glasses. Do you know
where I can get a pair?

Oh! Wait! That is what a journal is!

This is what it feels like
To lose control
This is what it feels like
To be left alone
This is what it feels like
To lose a friend
This is what it feels like
To reach the end

God came down
And walked beside me
God came down
He sent friends to guide me
God came down to remind me
This is what it feels like
To be loved

This is what it feels like
To face the truth
This is what it feels like
To know it's through
This is what it feels like
To say goodbye
This is what it feels like
For a man to cry

--audioa, until my heart caves in

I decided to change my blog name
and my web address.
For some reason my real name and
my blog were becoming associated
with each other which is the last
thing I wanted.
I am working on a new layout and
I hope to have that ready soon.

Found this quote at metaquotes it describes me perfectly...

"My mind is an amusement park ride with one of the important support bolts missing"

Been busy.
Working long hours.
Bought new furniture.
Bought new cell phone.
Been working on 1000_journals.
Love the journal I received.
Need to complete cuz it is now overdue!
'bout all that's going on here.
Once I get my new phone I will be able to moblog!
Can't wait!