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Amy
I had two write two mock ups as an interview of sorts when I thought I was going to take a paid writing job for a magazine. The people are real, the names and story are not. I wrote it without ever visiting their home. Driving up a residential, slightly sloped, tree lined street, sprinklers whir behind black fences on immaculate lawns leading to large brick homes. You can picture the inhabitants: petite blonde women compensating with 4″ heels, rushing to get out the door, briefcases under their arm, packed with papers. Their husbands stand over the sink slurping the last dregs of coffee from a mug they got at their last conference with the Wall Steet Journal quartered in their hands. The house is quiet, apart from the clattering the missus makes on her way through the foyer, adjusting her scarf where it is tangled in an earring. But step inside THIS one, & you’ll find quite a different scenario. Meet the Millers. Hubert is an investment banker, & he’s sprawled across the polished hardwood in his sock feet playing with his daughter, Hazel. She’s a very proud two & a half. Don’t forget the half. The other little one is Magnolia, who’s busy modeling her brand new LL Bean backpack. It’s monogrammed, not for stature, but so it doesn’t get confused with anyone else’s. She shows it to…
Is there a YouTube video for my life? Because I have to refer to them for so many other things (sd card, most recently). How did we make it before? Oh yeah, instruction manuals. It doesn’t help that I spend way too much time online, anyway. I logged into etsy last night to check the shipping status of something I ordered & thirty minutes later found myself looking at wind chimes made of spoons etched into fish shapes. ??? Why? I hate wind chimes & have no covered porch to hang them from if I did like them. “The amazing thing about jellyfish is they eat, poop, & procreate from the same orifice.” While at Food City… “Ma’am? Did you buy coffee & Oreos?” I barely refrained from sticking my hand out & saying, “Hi, I’m Amy. We’ve never met.”…
Aren’t my tomatoes beautiful? They’ve had a hard life. After selection, they got sqooshed down in my buggy, then repacked on top by the cashier. While I was wheeling my cart across the main thoroughfare in front of Sam’s, they took a plunge off the front end and were scrambling in all directions like escaped convicts from Brushy Mountain. I just stood there and watched it happen and eventually threw a hand to my forehead, the very picture of Southern Damsel in Distress Mode. A gentleman in overalls assisted me in the round up of scattered orbs. Little troublemakers. I’m gonna devour them with much more zeal now…
According to some, I’ve lead a semi-charmed life. And I’m sure compared to others, that’s true. But lemme tell you something. I cry at the drop of a hat. I cry when I’m sad, when I’m angry, when someone else is crying, when I’m happy, when I stump my toe. I’ve cried like no other for the past week. I told Johnny I understand now why depressed people have a hard time. I’m fully aware of how ridiculous I sound, I don’t have problems. I have options. But you get on a crying jag, your eyes swell, it wears you down, you can’t concentrate, your head pounds, & then there you are. The next day, you aim to feel better & more at peace, but you’re still all screwed up from the previous day. It’s a vicious cycle! I’m so glad I didn’t have a lot to cry about because I would have never dug my way out from that black hole. So today, I wanted to use up my HSA money before I lose it. Don’t judge, you’d do the same thing. I’ve been meaning to get to the eye doctor, but that’s about as much fun as laying on an anthill while eating a popsicle & letting whatever happens happen. But…
Had you asked me Sunday morning what my favorite book is, I would have answered with absolutely no hesitation: “Gone With the Wind”. Like, it’s a part of my SOUL. Hello? It was the theme of my WEDDING. But today….today things changed. If I were going to be exiled on a deserted island for all of eternity & I could take only one book…well, I would still take Gone With The Wind because it’s longer but I would sneak this one under my shirt. It’s the most wonderful book in the whole wide world. It’s a FAIRY TALE. For ADULTS. Why did we ever stop reading fairy tales? They’re like a vacation from LIFE. They’re fun. They’re not pretentious. You don’t have to pretend to like them. You get lost & forget to eat or talk to your husband or answer your boss’s emails. I mean… I’ve heard you might do those things. I am ever diligent. And vigilant. And I will probably cry when I return this one to the library tomorrow, even though I have six of his books en route to me right now. Including this one. Here’s a convenient link for you to buy your own: 2nd greatest. Seriously. or if you want to buy me the ultra swanky signed, leatherbound edition, find it here: https://www…
It’s National Library week, & I’m ashamed I haven’t posted anything before now. Some people find solace in church. Some are most comfortable outside. And some of us would rather be in a library than anywhere else. Because, within a library, you can be anyone. You can be anywhere. There’s SO MUCH more to the library than just books. Contrary to popular belief they are not stuffy & hushed—anyone who’s been inside King Family in Sevierville afterschool can attest to that. (Although it can be quite tranquil of the morning or late afternoon). Serving on the board has opened my eyes to all the things we offer to the public AT NO CHARGE. There’s always something going on. There are computer classes for all ages & abilities, craft programs, book signings, even dance classes! They host many activities like movie night, stargazing, planting by the signs, all kinds of stuff! You can rent a classroom for your meeting needs, or research your family tree. You can make a commercial in their green room or print something on their 3-D printer. The library is a refuge. Many children, myself included, never had the option of going to a summer camp. The library offers a summer reading program, complete with snacks, crafts, & group activities. You meet people from all over the county, so you’re bound to make new friends. Through the school year, the library offers storytelling &…
About halfway through making stuffed shells, I remember why I rarely make stuffed shells. The massive pile of dirty dishes. It starts with chopping an onion & garlic. This is where Johnny is lured by the captivating smell & has to investigate what dish is underway. He leans around me & inspects the proceedings. “Got yourself a smelly little pile there, dontcha?” Meaning the onion & garlic skins. I’m more worried about draining all this spinach & note that some has managed to stick to my forearm, giving me the appearance of Sprout, the Jolly Green Giant’s sidekick. Toss onions into the oil, which spatters because I’m in a hurry & have the electric skillet up too high. The stockpot water is boiling away, so I try to add three jumbo shells at a time, as per package instructions, but quickly lose patience & dump the whole box in. Need to dig out the colander before I forget & then I’ve got a pot of noodles al dente with no place to go. Become distracted by grating cheese. Remember to add basil. Check basil plant. It’s been eaten by an unseen pest. Drag dining room chair over to cabinet to peer into the depths for dried variety. Looks a little old…oh well, better than nothing. Mix spinach, cheeses, egg, bread crumbs, & spices in mixer. Retrieve 9×13…
Growing up in the South, you will frequently hear the phrase: “Shit hit the fan.” I don’t think I ever truly understood the meaning until I went to work for Sevier County 911 dispatch. And yesterday, shit definitely hit the fan in Sevier County. Y’all all know Ruby’s burned to a crisp in Pigeon Forge on Sunday, which is hard enough to deal with. It’s terrible when it’s a home out in the county, but when it’s high profile business in the middle of town, you have to deal with all the media, too. And then the helicopter crash yesterday afternoon. You think about that. Phone rings, more than likely it’s someone ABSOLUTELY HYSTERICAL because they’ve watched a helicopter fall from the sky & burst into flames. You can’t believe your ears, you hope it’s someone off their meds but then all the phone lines light up at once as the calls pour in from hundreds of eyewitnesses. You might hear screaming from the victims. The trunk lines fill (that’s 7 phone lines with twelve calls apiece for six dispatchers to answer, if I remember correctly) & roll to the Sherriff’s department. Your first dispatcher starts doing what they do- methodically mashing buttons & maintaining a calm demeanor while in a monotone voice delivers the worst news the EMS world will probably hear all day. And from there, it all goes downhill. And by downhill, I actually mean…
It’s the last day of Carnival season. One million people are celebrating, eating beignets & king cake & dancing in the street to the music that fills the air from every corner. There’s an ache in my soul because my heart is in New Orleans but my body is at the Co-op. New Orleans (pronounced Nu Orluhns, by the way, NOT New Or-leens or Nawlins, heaven forbid) has no rivals; there are no substitutes. There’s no such thing as “too much” on Fat Tuesday. I’m not sure New Orleans even knows the meaning of excess. It makes no apologies. Anything goes. New Orleans is far too busy living life & having fun to worry about what everybody else thinks. Be like New Orleans. Happy Mardi Gras, y’all…
IThe Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins Book #4: A Young Adult Bestseller I’m not above reading YA. I believe that sometimes people disregard YA novels because they are too juvenile. You could not make a bigger mistake. Generally speaking, YA isn’t full of fancy language. It’s just easy reading & generally captivating. Since I had bought Hunger Games sometime back on the recommendation of pretty much everyone in the world, and I feel like I’m the last person left in the universe to read it, I figured I’d better hop to it. That, and because I’d broken the cardinal rule of all readers everywhere, & watched the movie a couple of years ago. That’s right, before I ever cracked the spine on the book. One of the guys at work, who never reads anything at all, even commented that it was the only book he’d ever read cover to cover for pleasure (not assigned school reading). So it HAD to be good. I found it spellbinding from the get go. I was thankful for the explanation early in the novel of how Panem, their country, came to be because I never understood that from the movie. Furthermore, Katniss’s homeland, District 12, is the Appalachians. So she’s even more near & dear to my heart. “To the everlasting credit of the people of District 12…they take part in the boldest form of dissent they can manage. Silence. Which says we…
