Stories # 30, # 31, & # 32: "Whatever You're Doing," "It Isn't Working," & "You're Still Ugly"

Here we have a mixed bag of rather short stories. The first one's almost sickly-sweet, the second one's disturbingly twisted, and the third one simply oozes cynicism. That being said, enjoy!  –  JH

"WHATEVER YOU'RE DOING"

In case you were wondering, yes, I have noticed something different about you lately. It was gradual at first, but suddenly it's dramatic. You haven't missed a day of work (I would remember), so I guess you haven't had any kind of procedure done. It's obvious that you've been working hard. I always found you pleasant to look at, but you weren't necessarily what most people would call attractive, per se. But all that has changed. You've changed. Now that there's less of you physically, the rest of you shines through more clearly. You walk with your head high, displaying a confidence I never knew you possessed – and that swagger becomes you. You smile all the time, and your smile is beautiful. You are beautiful. Whatever you've been doing, and whatever you're doing now, keep it up. I'm noticing. And I'm thinking things. Like, how am I going to spend the rest of my life with anyone else but you?

"IT ISN'T WORKING"

I've been trying for twenty-five minutes to kill this jerk, but it isn't working. I thought it would be a simple enough task to perform. I'd enter his office quickly, locking the door behind me, and hook my arm around his despicable throat and break his neck before he even knew I was there. It didn't happen quite like that. He saw me coming and recognized me as trouble, warding me off with a cup of hot coffee in my face. I didn't stop advancing, though my skin was burning – with rage and with coffee. Plan B was already in place. The scissors were in my back pocket, and I pulled them out, separating the blades into a "V" shape and striking out at his jugular. They were dull blades, but I thought they'd be just sharp enough to pierce his sickening skin. They weren't, and so I had to think of a Plan C on the fly. I managed to grab his emptied coffee cup in my other hand and smashed it over his head. He seemed stunned for a second, but didn't leave his feet. Before he could gather his wits again, I slammed him into the wall of his office. Seventeen times. He collapsed in a heap – as much of a heap as a skinny, six-foot-five twerp can collapse into, that is. This was my chance to finish him off. I  wrapped my hands around his throat as tightly as I could manage and began strangling him. It should've worked, but the rascal inexplicably came to and started fighting me again. For a scrawny little wimp, this guy sure could fight. Plan D was – and is – destined to fail, but I've run out of options by now. I've been smashing the stapler down and stapling every square inch of his exposed skin for the past ten minutes; and while he seems extremely uncomfortable and has mostly stopped fighting back, this guy is disturbingly alive and seems content to stay that way. I knew I should've brought my chainsaw to begin with.

"YOU'RE STILL UGLY"

"Hey, Gordon."

"What's up, Saralee?"

"Oh...just my face."

"What, did you get another facelift or something?"

"Oh, Gordy, you noticed!"

"Not really. You just pointed it out."

"Well, you would've known anyway, even if I hadn't said anything, right?"

"Probably not."

"Don't you see any difference at all, Gordy?"

"Your eyes look swollen."

"Oh, well, that's just the aftereffects of the procedure."

"It looks like it hurts."

"It did at first, but not so much anymore. But it was worth it, don't you think?"

"Whatever."

"Gordon Mobley, you're awfully impertinent today."

"Yeah, well, I'm constipated. What's your excuse?"

"Well, I never!"

"Wouldn't surprise me one bit, Saralee."

"Gordy!"

"What?"

"Why are you being so mean to me? I just asked for your honest opinion."

"You don't want that."

"Well, of course, I do. You're my friend, aren't you?"

"If you say so."

"Well, what do you really think about my face?"

"That's a loaded question, Saralee."

"Fire away, Gordon. I can take it."

"I seriously doubt that, but here goes nothing."

"Go ahead."

"Well, remember when you asked me what I thought of your implants?"

"Yes, you said I looked very buoyant."

"Right. And remember when you asked me what I thought of your nose job?"

"Yes, Gordon. You said it didn't pass the sniff test."

"Right. And remember when you asked me what I thought when you got your lips done?"

"I remember, Gordy. You said it wasn't wise to go around kissing bees."

"Right. So now you want me to tell you what I think about your latest facelift."

"Right."

"Well, Saralee, I think you're wasting tons of money fighting a losing battle. Because no matter how many times your face gets lifted, at the end of the day you're still ugly, and no amount of surgery can fix that."

"Is that what you really think, Gordy?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Remind me again why I value your opinion."

"Beats me."

"Goodbye, Gordy."

"Nice talking to you, Saralee."

Story # 29: "Desperate Houseflies"

This is the latest in my new mini-series of unrelated short stories that take their titles (or the inspiration for their titles, in this case) from the names of popular TV shows. This one is very dialogue-heavy, which always makes for some degree of awkwardness in both writing and reading it. But I tried to use the two "characters"' names frequently enough to make the dialogue easy to understand, without having to write "he said" and "I said" in a multiplicity of ways approximately thirty-eight times in one short story. Enjoy!  ~  JH

"DESPERATE HOUSEFLIES"

"We gotta get outta this place!" Felipe complained, for what was probably the thirtieth time in the past thirty minutes.

"No, duh!" I said, "But how do you suggest we do that?"

"If only they'd open up a window or something," he suggested, for what was probably at least the eighteenth time.

"That would require them to actually do something besides sitting around and texting their lame-brained boyfriends, now wouldn't it, Felipe?"

"Well, yeah, but –"

"When's the last time you saw either of those two dimwits doing anything as strenuous as opening a window? Or even a door, for that matter."

"Well –"

"That's right. Never, Felipe."

"Just because they haven't before doesn't mean they won't today, Jim."

I sighed, for what was probably the sixty-third time in the past half hour. "You and your optimism."

"Hey, somebody's gotta hold out some hope around here."

"I'm just being realistic," I countered. "Anyway, we've already been in here a week and a half. Your girlfriend's probably already dead or dying out there by now."

"Don't say that, Jim! Lizzie's not dead!"

"You don't know that, do you?" He stared at me intently with all of his eyes, looking as if he were about to cry. "Don't do that. No, we're not doing this. We're not crying again."

But Felipe buzzed his melancholy tears nonetheless. It was actually quite a pitiful sight to behold.

"Felipe! Seriously, are you a fly or are you a mouse?"

"I'm a fly."

"Say it loud, Felipe!"

"I'm a fly!"

"Say it proud!"

"I'M A FLY!"

"Once more, with feeling this time."

"I! AM!! A!!! FLY!!!!"

"Good. Now act like a fly."

"How's that, Jim?"

"Face reality. These chiquitas are not budging any time soon, so you are going nowhere. And neither am I."

"But Lizzie –"

"Lizzie's out there, and you're in here, and there's nothing you can do about it."

"But I miss her."

"Felipe –"

"I know, I know. I'm a fly!"

"That's right. Now try to exercise a little restraint, and be a little patient, for crying out loud!"

"Jim?"

"Yeah, Felipe?"

"You're a good friend, you know that?"

"Felipe?"

"Yeah, Jim?"

"Buzz off."

"Whatever you say, Jim." Felipe whimpered for what was probably the seventeenth time in the past fifteen minutes, and whispered. "Lizzie..."

Stories # 26, # 27, & # 28: "Professor Cupcakes," "Not Your Average Voyeur," & "A Frog In Her Throat"

Three more very short stories for your reading pleasure. The first two are 100-word drabbles. The third comes in at an even 150 words. Enjoy!  –  JH

"PROFESSOR CUPCAKES"

He could never understand why his students didn't respect him. It couldn't possibly be the suits he wore. They were all of the finest quality. Surely it couldn't be his voice. Often, friends and family had commented on his soothing tones and the crispness of his diction. And it certainly couldn't be his teaching methods. Based on their exams thus far, the students were clearly learning and absorbing the material. And yet, the professor could never seem to connect with his students on a personal level. What was worse, they openly mocked him. It couldn't be his name. Could it?

"NOT YOUR AVERAGE VOYEUR"

She was no ordinary Peeping Tom. First of all, she was a woman. Secondly, she was classy and high-tech in her espionage. She didn't simply climb a tree with a pair of binoculars and stare at random people while they were changing clothes. She sneaked into their houses when they weren't home, installed microscopic high-definition digital cameras in obscure places, then retreated to the comfort of her unmarked van down the street and watched as her subjects performed menial tasks, such as scrubbing the toilet, frying eggs, and discreetly picking their noses. Everyone loves a good reality show these days.

"A FROG IN HER THROAT"

Working in the ER, you never know what you're going to see from one night to the next. Just when I thought I'd seen everything, I was proven wrong last night. This lady came in complaining of a severely sore throat. Most of the time, folks like her are triaged out in no time. Well, not exactly "no time." We make them hang around approximately three hours longer than necessary, then send them home with a $400 bag of cough drops. Anyway, this lady with the sore throat started having a hard time breathing, so we gave her some oxygen and ordered an X-ray. When the radiologist gave his report, we were floored. Apparently, the lady had swallowed a live bullfrog whole. It was still stuck in her throat and ribbiting away. After a complicated and utterly hilarious surgery, she survived unscathed. The frog died. Now I've seen it all.

Story # 25: "Call Me Mabry"

Indeed, I am riffing on the title of a wildly popular pop song, but this story has nothing to do with the song. The main character here is entirely fictional, but she could easily have been based on any number of people I have known during my life. Enjoy!  ~  JH

"CALL ME MABRY"

My name is Jenny, but I've never liked my name. It's not that there's anything inherently wrong with Jenny, or the name of which it's a derivative (Jennifer) – it's just that I've never thought it fit me or my personality.

It's not my parents' fault – they didn't know how I'd turn out or what I'd be like when I first came into the world. They probably thought I'd be their pretty little princess, and that I'd love wearing frilly dresses with ribbons or barrettes (or both) in my hair, and that pink would be my favorite color.

It's not. Never has been. I like black, in large quantities, in all shades, in and on everything. It's not that I'm morbid – okay, maybe I am a little – I just like the color (or absence of color, to be more precise).

I'm not a Goth, though if I were it wouldn't mean I was a bad person or anything. I have friends who are and they're perfectly normal; their look is just widely misunderstood.

My friends call me Mabry. It isn't any part of my actual birth name, but the name Mabry (which I first saw on the back of a baseball player's jersey when I was a kid, at a time when my well-meaning but thoroughly misguided dad was trying to get me to like sports) just seems to suit me better.

I've even managed to convince a few of my teachers at school to call me by that name. I told them Mabry was my middle name, and even though they had the records to prove me wrong, they didn't argue the point.

People ask me if I'm trying to reinvent myself by giving myself a new name. Actually, I'm not. If anything, I'm discovering myself for the first time, which isn't the same thing at all.

I'm convinced that this person Mabry – who likes black and not pink, and isn't a girly-girl in even the most rudimentary sense of the word – is the real me. She's who I have always been becoming. And I like her. I like me.

If you'd asked me that question two years ago, or even a year ago, I'd have given a different answer. That would have been when all-black-everything meant something darker to me. Yes, I cut myself – but I was always too chicken to go that deep. I didn't want to die. I just didn't want to live. Which isn't the same thing at all, either.

So if you see me in the hallway, or at the mall (not likely), or at the store, or wherever, don't hesitate to stop and say hi. I'm not a devil worshipper. I'm not some creepy vampire lover, either. I'm just a girl who marches to a different beat. Call me Mabry. I'll answer.

Story # 24: "Bear Arms Give Tighter Hugs"

Okay, so this one's weird. But I think it's also sweet in its own way. I love writing dialogues, but I  generally try to use more descriptions than conversations in my stories whenever possible. This story is a dialogue-driven exception to the rule. I hope you will enjoy reading it at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it.  –  JH

"BEAR ARMS GIVE TIGHTER HUGS"

Please don't misunderstand me. It isn't my custom to go around hugging wildlife. After all, I am a lady. But there comes a time in every woman's life when she has to admit that what she has is not all she needs. That moment came for me yesterday.

I'd been pretty miserable for a while, but didn't know exactly why. My life was no bed of roses, but it wasn't a pile of soggy hay either. 

I was on the phone, pouring my heart out to my dear friend Phyllis, who's had her share of troubles, when she stopped me in mid-sentence and asked, "Have you tried hugging a bear?"

"I beg your pardon?" I asked, sure that I'd heard her wrong.

"A bear. Have you tried hugging one? You know, easy-peasy-squeezy-squeezy?"

"Phyllis."

"Yes?"

"A bear? I'm telling you how my life is crap, and you're asking me if I've hugged a bear?"

"Yes."

"Do you mean a teddy bear? Because I –"

"No, of course I don't mean a teddy bear, Celia, I mean a real-live, claw-wielding, fish-eating grizzly bear."

"Phyllis?"

"Yes?"

"Did you take your lithium this morning?"

"Yes, Celia. Why?"

"Because you're talking crazy, Phyllis. Who goes around hugging grizzly bears?"

"Well, I do. Once a week. Doctor's orders."

"Phyllis?"

"Yes?"

"Are you seeing a witch doctor these days?"

"No. Why?"

"Why is what I'm asking you. Why would you want to hug a grizzly bear? More importantly, where would you go to do such an asinine thing?"

"Because there's nothing more comforting than the gentle yet firm embrace of a 500-pound fuzzy, cuddly grizzly bear. And, to answer your second question: the zoo."

"The zoo?"

"I know a guy."

"How long has this been going on, Celia?"

"Two months."

"And the bear doesn't hurt you?"

"He's as tame as a kitten."

"Really?"

"I wouldn't lie to you, Phyllis."

"And you do this because the bear –"

"Makes me feel like a million bucks. I've never been happier."

"Well, you certainly sound happy."

"I am, Celia. It's a wonderful feeling to know you're loved."

"Come on, Phyllis, don't tell me you think the bear loves you."

"Well, of course not, I don't mean 'love' like romantic love. I mean, like a mother's love. Like the sweet, nurturing love of a mama for her baby. Or cub, in this case."

"And you think this would help me too?"

"Well, it certainly can't hurt, Celia. You sound terrible. You want me to call my friend?"

"At the zoo?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Could I hug the bear today?"

"Gary."

"What?"

"Gary is his name."

"Your friend at the zoo?"

"No, the bear."

"Oh. Well, do you think I could hug Gary today?"

"Yes, I'm sure he can work you in."

"Gary, or the guy?"

"Gary. He does this a lot, you know."

"Hugs people?"

"A lot. But don't worry – he won't just treat you like a number. He really cares about everyone he hugs."

"Phyllis."

"Yes?"

"Bears aren't sentient creatures."

"Whatever. Wait till you meet Gary."

"I can't wait."

"I'll call my guy."

"At the zoo?"

"Yes."

"And you'll call me back?"

"In a flash."

"Thanks, Phyllis. You're a real friend."

"No problem, Celia. This'll do the trick. I promise you."

And it did. I met Gary for the first time about two hours after hanging up with Phyllis. He was every bit as gentle and sweet as she described. It's true what Phyllis said. There's nothing more comforting than the firm hug of a heavily muscled grizzly bear. In Gary's arms, I felt safe, and yes, loved.

I'm going back on Thursday. I know it sounds crazy, but I can't get enough of that wonderful feeling. I actually have hope for my future now. Even if the rest of my life doesn't get any better, if things don't turn out the way I planned, I know I can cope. Because I have Gary.

Songs With "Home" In The Title

A while back (last year, sometime, in fact), I posted the 10 worst and 10 best album covers of albums entitled "Home." (I don't feel like going back and finding the link, but if you feel the need, it's Google-able.) Today, I decided to post a bunch of songs with "home" in the title that are actually good songs. There's a rather wide variety of styles and genres represented here, so you'll probably find at least one or two that you like (and maybe even know already). Enjoy!

1)  Maroon 5  ~  "Won't Go Home Without You"

2)  Xenia  ~  "Sing You Home"

3)  Dara MacLean  ~  "Home"

4)  Marit Larsen  ~  "Coming Home"

5)  Stephen Jerzak & Jamestown Story  ~  "Come Back Home"

6)  Gabrielle Aplin  ~  "Home"

7)  The Dear Hunter  ~  "Home"

8)  La Toya Jackson  ~  "Home"

9)  Sheryl Crow  ~  "Home"

10)  Goo Goo Dolls  ~  "Home"

11)  Dierks Bentley  ~  "Home"

12)  Daughtry  ~  "Home"

13)  Michael Bublé  ~  "Home"

14)  Adele  ~  "Hometown Glory"

15)  Phillip Phillips  ~  "Home"

Interesting Quotes By Famous M.J.'s

 MICHAEL JORDAN, basketball player

"I've failed over and over and over again

in my life. And that is why I succeed."

"If you're trying to achieve, there will be roadblocks. 

I've had them; everybody has had them. But obstacles don't 

have to stop you. If you run into a wall, don't turn around and give up. 

Figure out how to climb it, go through it, or work around it."

"If you accept the expectations of others, especially 

negative ones, then you will never change the outcome."

"My attitude is that if you push me towards 

something that you think is a weakness, then
will turn that perceived weakness into a strength."

"I can accept failure; everyone fails at

something. But I can't accept not trying."

"To be successful you have to be selfish, or else you never

achieve. And once you get to your highest level, you have to

be unselfish. Stay reachable. Stay in touch. Don't isolate."

"Some people want it to happen, some wish 

it to happen, others make it happen."

"I've always believed that if you put

 in the work, the results will come."

"I'm not out there sweating for three hours every

day just to find out what it feels like to sweat."

"You have to expect things of 

yourself before you can do them."

"Sometimes you need to get hit in the

 head to realize that you're in a fight."

"In reality, I never want to grow up."

"I believe greatness is an evolutionary process

that changes and evolves from era to era."

MICHAEL JACKSON, pop singer

"If you enter this world knowing you are loved 

and you leave this world knowing the same, then

everything that happens  in between can be dealt with."

"Let us dream of tomorrow where we can truly love from the soul,

 and know love as the ultimate truth at the heart of all creation."

"Why can't you share your bed? The most loving thing 

to do is to share your bed with someone. It's very charming.

 It's very sweet. It's what the whole world should do."

"Children show me in their playful smiles the divine

 in everyone. This simple goodness shines straight 

from their hearts and only asks to be loved."

"The meaning of life is contained in every single

expression of life. It is present in the infinity of 

forms and phenomena that exist in all of creation."

"I'm a black American. I am proud of my race. I am

 I am proud of who I am. I have a lot of pride and dignity."

"I'm just like anyone. I cut and I bleed. And I embarrass easily."

MAHALIA JACKSON, gospel singer

"Faith and prayer are the vitamins of the soul; 

man cannot live in health without them."

"You're blessed if you have the strength to work."

"Everybody needs somebody."

"God can make you anything you want to be, 

but you have to put everything in His hands."

"How can you sing of amazing grace and all

God's wonders without using your hands?"


"Money just draws flies."

"Sometimes you ask God for something 

and you don't know what you're asking."

"The old Devil gets mad when you're trying to do

good. Pray that God will move the stumbling blocks."

"Without a song, each day would be a century."

MICK JAGGER, rock star

It's all right letting yourself go, 

as long as you can get yourself back."

"Anything worth doing is worth overdoing."

"A good thing never ends."

"Thank you for leaving us alone but giving

us enough attention to boost our egos."

"Lose your dreams and you might lose your mind."

"My secrets must be poetic to be believable."

"The elusive nature of love...it can be such a fleeting thing. 

You see it there, and it's just fluttering, and it's gone."

"Patriotism is an instant reaction 

that fades away when the war starts."

MA JIAN, writer

"To become self-aware, people must be allowed to hear a

plurality of opinions and then make up their own minds.

 They must be allowed to say, write, and publish whatever they 

want. Freedom of expression is the most basic, but fundamental 

right. Without it, human beings are reduced to automatons."

"Only when you are aware of the uniqueness 

of everyone's individual body will you begin 

to have a sense of your own self-worth."

"I believe that the power of literature

 is stronger than the power of tyranny."

"When history is erased, people's moral values are also erased."

MAGIC JOHNSON, basketball player

"When you face a crisis, you know who your true friends are."

"If you're a competitive person, that 

stays with you. You don't stop.
You always look over your shoulder."

"Young people want you to be real 

with them... When you are honest and 

open with young people, they let you in."