Tin House

Black Warrior Review (Submissions)

Just for future reference. 

I'm making cinnamon-roasted almonds right now. God I hope they turn out okay.

- - -

We got our food and sat down.

Man, I'm tired as hell.

Yeah, me too.

Where did you go last night? We-- well, I-- didn't see you after you got up from the table and left. 

Sorry. I just couldn't . . . be around that anymore. Made me feel a little sick.

He looked uncomfortable at the mention of "sick," Heh. I'm sure you heard about that?

From about a million different people. 

Mmm. Yeah. God, I felt bad for her. I tried to calm her down, but . . .

It didn't work? No matter what you said?

. . . Exactly. 

Yup. I've experienced that before.

He laughed, God we must sound pathetic. I bet she just dreams these conversations up.

Probably. But in her version of it, we're talking about how absolutely amazing she is. About how much she deserves praise. 

So do you still have feelings for her?

No, I don't. I just hate the attention, and the flailing. It's like she's still trying to settle a score that I'd given up keeping track of a long time ago.

Yeah, I can understand that.

Can I be honest with you?

We'd kept talking long after our food was gone. I was liking Alex more by the minute, Yeah, go ahead.

In a purely selfish way, I'm happy you two broke up.

I was surprised, Really?

Yeah. I don't know. I've been interested in her since middle school, to be honest. And once you guys started dating . . . I secretly hated you.

I laughed, I'm sorry, but that's hilarious. My reaction seemed to relax him a bit, but not as much as I'd hoped.

I don't know, he said, it's weird. You spend your whole life trying to make a person love you, thus making you happy and comfortable and accepted, and you never realize that there are other people who are looking for that same thing, and possibly with the exact same person you are. Only one person can win; someone has to get hurt.

The Eye

A woman sat down on the bench facing his. 

Her name is Tammy, he thought, or Carol or Susan. 

She wore modest jeans and a t-shirt with three patriotic puppies on the front. 

I bet she could help me, he thought.

She shifted her purse when he sat down next to her. He took no offense. 

"Hi," he said, offering his hand. "My name's Fay."

She looked up at him. He stuttered throughout his introduction. She'd had a nephew that suffered from a stutter. "Hello," she said kindly, receiving his hand. "I'm Carol."

"Do you mind if I sit here? I'm kind of nervous and company always makes me feel better."

"Go right ahead." She watched him place his backpack and a paper bag next to his feet. His eyes wandered among the other passengers in the terminal. Every so often his body would make an awkward, jerky spasm. "So where are you headed to?"

"Um, Memphis. My aunt lives up there. We're going to be staying there."

"'We?'"

"Yes. My mother and father and I."

"Ah. Well that sounds lovely. I've never been there." She paused and looked at the lettering on his shirt.  "I pray you're just leaving until it passes?"

"No, our home's gone," he said while twiddling his thumbs and looking at his feet. 

"Oh . . . I really sorry to hear that."

"Thanks! But don't be. We'll get through." He looked up, smiling. "Do you live here?"

"No, we live in New Orleans as well."

"Cool! Is your home safe?" 

"Oh, yes. We live on the northern side. High and dry, I guess you could say."

"Then why are you leaving?"

"Well, my mother's been feeling tired and ill lately, so I'm going up to see her. I think now is as good a time as any."

"Ooo. Okay. I haven't seen my mother since the storm got close."

"Your dad must be with you, then."

"Nope."

"Are you traveling by yourself?"

"Yup. They're both up there waiting for me."

"Well be safe. I know how scary traveling by yourself can feel. This is my first time too."

"Really?"

"Unfortunately, yes." 

"Well, I guess you really aren't all by yourself. I'm here."

Carol laughed. "I guess you're right, Fay."

"Would you like some sandwiches my grandmother made? Here," he bent down and grabbed the paper bag and stuck it out towards her face, "smell them! They always smell so good."

She got her nose close to the opening of the bag and took a big, dramatic whiff. Her nose tingled and she felt light headed. "Why, I . . ." The lights got brighter and then everything went black.

- - -

When she woke up, she was dead.

I've got an hour.

One

I should do something craaazy. Like posting something new every 10 minutes. Wouldn't that just be craaazy? I think it would be craaazy.

Okay, that's over with. 

How creeped out would you be if you casually checked someone's Facebook page, and they had removed everyone on their friends list except for you? Especially if it was someone you didn't really talk to/know? 

Lol.

Also, that one paragraph on my last post was AWFUL. I really should l2edit before posting. 

- - -

Thank you Ms. Karlten, I said as she let us in. 

No problem. I wish I knew what you kids were going through . . .

Maria went over and took his hand. She started to cry.

I took a seat. My eyes were heavy. 

Why'd this have to happen to him?

Haven't you heard the good news? Bad things happen to everyone. 

I wonder if he can hear us. If it somehow effects whatever it is that they go through. 

To put it in a childish way, emotions are a lot like food. They don't sit well if you mix everything together.

That's how I was feeling.

We left early.

I kept feeling the vibrations of my phone as new text messages and voicemails were received. I had no doubt that they were about whatever other awful things were going on at the prom. 

- - -

Two

I felt guilty for the second time of the night. Maria and I had run off, together, during a social event that almost everyone was at. No doubt the rumors were spreading like a wildfire. Again, mixed emotions. I hated them. All of them. From every "social outcast" and pompous prick that I'd never spoken to to every asshole I had the privilege of being somewhat friends with. 

We parked at Twin Point. 

Three

We parked at Twin Point. And . . . nothing happened. We sat on the hood and watched the stars. We didn't kiss, we didn't have sex, we didn't say a word. We just sat and kept our heads looking up to the sky.

I hope you believe me. 

Four

Wake up.

Mm?

Please wake up.

Guuh. Fine. 

Mom cooked me breakfast. She made sure I took one of my pills. I didn't want to. I never want to. I can slip past without taking them unless she's there. And she counts. If I get lucky, I can fake taking one and then throw it away once I get to school. 

Five

Today wasn't one of those days. You know, since it was a Sunday. Please don't tell her I'm not taking my pills. I can trust you with this, can't I? I figure I can. You're a good teacher. A good person, I should say. Sorry.

It's just one of those things you don't get over.

- - -

I went and got a burrito to smother my overdramatic, teenage pain in. 

He was there. Awkward. Without her, though, thank God. 

I gave him one of those angle-faced grins and he greeted me back. He invited me to stay and eat with me. So I accepted. It couldn't hurt.

eoiurwfs

How'd the assignment go for you?

I don't know. The reading was a bit . . . esoteric. 

Mr. Whitney laughed.

I don't think you'll find my paper very good.

He shrugged, Well at least you tried. 

Silence.

So the prom's about a week away. Are you going?

I don't know. Maria Clairite asked if I'd like to go. She's sweet, but it still feels like a pity invite.

I think you should. It'll be good for you.

She said the same thing. Yeah, maybe I will.

- - -

I felt bad for Maria. She didn't seem to be having as much fun as I'd hope she would. But then again, I wasn't really here to have fun.

And then I saw her. She was with her new boyfriend, whose name I now know. He's a nice guy. I feel bad for him getting mixed up in all of this. 

They sat down at our table. She was all over him. I didn't want to be there, so I got up and left to the bathroom. I wanted to cry, but couldn't. He should be here right now. With all of us. Having a good time. Even if I wanted to have a good time, I couldn't. I'd feel too guilty. I stood in the bathroom looking at myself until Tony ran in, laughing his ass off.

Oh my God, karma is a bitch!

Tony, I don't really feel like talking.

She just got sick! In the middle of the entire fucking dance floor! He gave me a pat on the back and went off, still laughing.

I felt bad for her. Even now, she didn't deserve this. 

I decided to leave. Maria was already waiting by one of the doors with our coats, I figured you'd want to go, she said. Before we got in my car I hugged her. She kissed me on the cheek.

Thanks for trying, I said.

Do you want to go visit him? I bet they'd make an exception and let us in this late.

Yeah. I'd like that.

- - -

And the award for World's Most Annoying Pistachio goes to . . .

THIS LITTLE FUCKER.

At first I thought I wouldn't eat him. I thought I'd let him sit and rot in a Fargo landfill until, as if by fate, a certain bird would probably choke on him and die, thus giving him at least some potential. But alas, I was hungry so I ate it.

I eat too much:

Breakfast

- Two bowls of cereal, each with whole milk.

Lunch

- Fries and a small Ron Johnson (chicken, ham, onions, mushrooms, pineapple, lettuce tomato, teriyaki, mayo, honey mustard) at Grand Junction

5 PM Snack

- Cup of Green Tea with Citrus, large bowl of this stuff (which happens to be THE most amazing frosted cereal in the world) along with whole milk, a peanut butter cookie, and a cup of pistachios.

I will still be having supper, which will probably end up being half a frozen pizza, a green apple, and water (and/or green tea), and I will also end up having popcorn while at the movie theatre tonight.

Holy fuck.

That made you hungry, didn't it? I know it did. It's making me hungry too.

- - -

Go ahead. Eat.

"There is a long way to love, but I have trouble."

- - -

Annabella Sciorra has a pretty voice. So does mememolly.

- - -

"Thank you for every kindness. Thank you for our children. For the first time I saw them. Thank you for being someone I was always proud to be with. For your guts, for your sweetness. For how you always looked, for how I always wanted to touch you. God, you were my life. I apologize for everytime I ever failed you. Especially this one..."

That line's from What Dreams May Come, the movie. I don't know if it's in the book or not-- I've never read it-- but I really liked it. The movie was meh. 

I keep listening to this. It's awesome. I've never read Alice, and I've never seen the movie, but the concept of it that I hold in my brain makes it sound lovely. However, I'd have to read the book before watching the movie. And I've got far too many books that are waiting to be read, at this moment.

Why does my blog post suddenly look really strange? What did I mess up now?

- - -

I made a list of things I "needed" to do today (needed in quotations because there's nothing I need to do, seeing as how I don't work for two days).

Okay, this is going to annoy me. I'm going to publish so hopefully it fixes it.

Kay, that didn't fix anything. Anyways. I made a list, and I did none of that stuff. I got home from the gym around noon, and literally stayed right next to and/or on my couch for 8+ hours. I need something to spend my time on. Fuuuck.

I'm going to go upload a video and read. Kbye.

Lol.

Man, today was hilarious.

I felt as if I was in that 30 Days show they used to have on FX, where they throw people into certain situations and see how they do.

For those who don't know,

my nose looks FUCKED UP right now. And hilariously so.

I went out to get food. The guy sounded extremely nice when he took my order at the drive through (or drive thru, I guess?). When I pulled up to get my food, he never looked me in the eye, nor did he sound as joyful as he did before he saw my face. Lol.

I got a ton of comments on it at work. It's funny how some people just give you weird looks, and others come right out and ask you questions about why you look so messed up. I had to keep myself from laughing most of the time.

Man, and I finally met Joe. Twas about fucking time. Man, it's weird some of the shit he remembers from my YT videos. Fuckin' Fresca, man. 

I thought it was awesome. I had a great time filming Darkside play in the tournament, and also when we were fucking around outside of it. The team is insanely fun to watch. I now have a whole new respect/special place in my heart for Ultimate. It would be cool to film them next year when they make it to nationals again.

It wasn't nearly as awkward being around his whole team as I had thought it might be. Joe, your friends are fucking awesome. Like, some of the coolest, most interesting people I now know. They're also extremely welcoming. I wish I could say the same about some of my friends. You're one lucky guy.

Fuck. I just realized I turned the oven off while my mother was baking something. Lololol shit.

Um. What else is there to randomly blog about this late at night? Not much, I guess. 

Time to go import a bunch of music.

By the way, Joe, The Crane Wife is a great album. You need to push this stuff on me sooner. Goddamn! 

I've got a new YouTube "stalker." Great. Grand.

She just messaged me asking what my name is.

Oh.

My.

God.

Fail.

- - -

I did end up running that day. Ran until my legs fucking burned. Pump up music blasting through the earpieces of my iPod. I love running. I'm not quick and I don't have Olympic stamina, but all of that doesn't matter. It's about conquering yourself. Telling yourself that you can run that extra minute, or five minutes, or ten minutes, because you know that no matter how long you run, and no matter how much it hurts, your body will be just fine at the end. In fact, it will be better than how it was before.

Just don't, ya know, go too far and die. Kids do that every once in a while. Heart conditions are a real motherfucker.

When I got back to my house I sat around, did abs, and ended up staring at the ceiling blankly while listening to relaxing music at a reasonable volume. 

I realized that I wasn't as mad as I thought I was. Hell, I'm not even upset about it now. 

See, our problem is obvious. Just look at the times we choose to communicate. How we're structured then isn't proper. If it were the way it is now, at this exact moment, we'd be better off. Friendship could work. But we have to watch our structure. Because when all else, it doesn't work. Not with our history. 

- - -

Fuck I am so excited for tomorrow. Really fucking exited.

Suburban seventh graders have more sexual experience than you do.

yoitwlk

http://www.writersdigest.com/article/a-boot-camp-for-creative-writing/

I wish, I wish I wish I wish.

- - -

You wrote your name in the sand?

Yeah.

When she didn't say anything else, he started to as well.

They were existing in Paradise, in a Paradise-No-More. 

We have to go back, he said.

I don't really want to.

Why not?

It's comfortable here. It's like I can pretend that I was the one that vanished, and not the other way around. 

Can we talk about this inside? I'm getting cold.

Okay.

In the morning, she agreed to go with.

She requested that they stop at the beach one last time. The tide had swallowed her name, but spared his. 

He watched her from the road and loved her.

He thought things might turn out all right.

- - -

That's impossible, he thought. There's no way.

Not wishing to sit and ponder the possible all day, he got to work.

A ladder would be too short. A scissors wouldn't do justice. He needed a sheer and a fire truck. He had to bury him. It was the least he could do.

He backed up and extended the ladder to just the right height. Up, up, up he went.

He looked the corpse right in the eyes.

Down, down, down you must go!

Kay, he said simply, and went on his way.

He peered over and looked at his work,

turned quickly and stumbled with a halfwitted jerk,

he fell to the ground and bumped his head.

No more monkeys jumpin' on the bed!

- - -

oiuoyem,

For some reason, in my dream last night, I imagined that Nebraska was a good thirty minutes away from Ohio.

For some reason it was also acceptable to justify attempting to kill some small child in the dream.

Seashells, the letter(s) and the lake. Imaginary things that I knew weren't real, so I told you they weren't. I think that upset you dearly, but ahwell, pard. You deserve it. 

Something about NaNo too. And to think that I actually sat and waited before responding. What a joke.

- - -

I'm an augur, you know.

I'm sorry-- a what?

"I see things you only wish you could see," he took his necklace and started to shake it at me. The last twinkle of a sapphire caught my eye. "I knew about this way before Casper or Tulsa. Before we were even able to comprehend that such a thing could ever happen to us." A coughing spasm followed.

Leave us alone.

Where are you going? You won't be able to hide. They'll find you. That, or they won't have to. If you have any food I could tell you your future.

We kept walking.

- - -

What was it? 

A necklace.

Oh. Isn't that a girly thing?

I guess so. Never saw him wear it, but he cherished it. His mother-- your great grandmother-- gave it to him before she passed. 

We . . . We could go back and get it. 

I don't think that's a good idea. If they haven't moved on yet, we'll be killed.

- - -

Why the fuck do these fuckers (how is fuckers not a word?) keep calling my house? Do telemarketers not learn? I know it's you, you little rat bastard. We don't want to listen to you promote some product or service. 

- - -

Time to go get pissed from the one and only infallible source so I can go on an hour-long run.

You are so stupid.

weoijort031

Aren't my titles just lovely? You could almost expect them to be used by Nine Inch Nails.

- - -

How did Pop-pop die? 

Eh . . .

I know what you're going to say. You're going to say something grownup, aren't you? 

Do you really want to know?

Yes.

Fine. He went into cardiac arrest. Do you know what that is?

No.

His, um . . . heart stopped working. While he was driving. And then his car hit another car. And he died.

I'm sorry. I should've been grownup and not told you.

It's okay. . . . He was lucky, wasn't he?

"What do you mean?" I looked at the scorched earth and the crimson rain in the horizon. "Yeah, he was."

Do you miss him?

Would you miss me if I was gone?

Yes.

Then there's your answer.

- - -

You've probably never heard of them before, have you?

No, I haven't.

Heh. They were way before your time. Let's see if this thing works.

Music started coming out of the boom box. For a few minutes, my spirits were uplifted. I wanted to sit back and smoke and drink; something casual way back when.

Did they die when They came here?

No, a few of them had died before then. The rest are probably gone now too.

He looked up to the sky and asked, "Do you think they're making music up there?"

He still wanted me to be honest with him, so I was. 

"I don't believe in up there."

weoijfs

They've been great friends forever, it can't possibly work out.

Why not?

I 'unno. It's just breaking some kind of invisible barrier that's always there. 

- - -

I shook my finger at her and felt old inside. "I told you it was a mistake. I told you. But you don't listen, do you? Not even to the simplest little shit. Goddamn. I . . ." I couldn't think of anything else to rant about. I was spent.

- - -

I saw her with her new boyfriend. Surprisingly, I still don't know his name. Maybe you do. I felt rage then, but cried when I was at his hospital bed. His silence is so sympathetic. I am empathetic towards everyone else, except for her. They're vapid.

- - -

Sigh.

- - -

I pardon.

So for Mother's Day, instead of buying an expensive gift and flowers and a card and all that great grand wonderful stuff I decided to make breakfast for the family instead. I woke up at 7:30, got all of my stuff ready, and set out to try a new recipe that I'd seen in the Fargo Forum for "Chocolate Banana Strudel." Or maybe it's "Banana Chocolate Strudel." Does it even matter?

It was pretty good-- or at least that's what my mother and sister (the only people in my family currently at home today) said. I thought it was okay. Nothing orgasmic, though. Making it was a bitch. Filo (or fillo or phyllo or however else it's spelled) dough is the most godawful annoying thing to deal with in the world. I want to murder it all kinds of dead. 

n e waiz. Now I get to go to work for seven hours and hope that I don't wish a happy Mother's Day to someone who has never been able to conceive. That would be classy. And awkward. 

I was going to write out a thoughtful, deep piece about my mother and Mother's Day, but PostSecret summed it all up for me:

https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI5htBdfB8iFncKvsbRYlqGyDoOmKYjEmOWRmUCDx91PDFa4npqYIhDUfySShNC_wEmy6m-R0SDsiP9Fd-3lMzSsZeUoOGhhja5LG5GluJ_x8qhytO0iSc_D33pHRYfLQMfzpWlLQro3uD/s1600-h/happymothersdaytoallmoms.jpg

Also: Guilty Pleasures

Gabby wrote about guilty pleasures. And when I think about it, I honestly don't believe I have any. But when I really thing about it, I guess there are some guilty pleasures. Time to try and list them off the top of my head:

1) Bad Reality TV Shows - You know all those awful shows on VH1 and MTV about 40-year-old rappers trying to find love? Yeah. I sometimes watch them. And when I say "sometimes" I don't really mean "I secretly don't want the world to know that I watch every new episode on the night they come out." It's mostly just a boredom thing. And a time to turn off my brain and become mindless.

2) Um. - That's really all I can think of. It's not like I listen to the Jonas Brothers, or 50 Cent, or Enya on a regular basis, making sure to always hide their CDs whenever my friends come over. My favorite movie is not Muppets in Space. I don't follow any TV shows besides The Office and 30 Rock-- and even for those I sometimes go weeks without watching. 

Maybe I don't have them? Or maybe I'm just in denial. 

Only in Ohio.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20090508/ap_on_re_us/us_school_dance_flap

HORROR STORY!!!1!

Kay, so, tonight we celebrated my brother's birthday. After the cake was lit, and we were sitting around chatting, my mother came over and decided to be motherly (by playing with my hair and massaging my head). I knew she liked getting her head scratched/massaged as well, so I decided to return the favor. (This whole thing sounds so weird.) Anyways, I did it for a minute or so, and then took my hands out of her hair. I looked at my right hand, and saw the tip of my ring finger covered in blood. The small cut, which had been caused earlier in the day by (of all things) a rebate slip at Fleet Farm, had reopened. I broke out in my signature "nervous" laughter and waved my hand around like a magic wand until everyone realized what had happened.

There wasn't nearly as much blood in her hair as I thought there would be. 

Take THAT, Stephen King. And this muthafucka is REAL.

- - -

Lol.

tqerwr

I like my titles.

 

- - -

I ate Qdoba last night, and it was probably for the first time since trying Chipotle. I found it distasteful (and yes, I kept it in mind that it was a night burrito, and that night burritos are never as good as non-night burritos). Qdoba sucks. *gives up*

- - -

YOU . . . YOU GOT WHAT I NEEEEEED! BUT YOU SAY HE'S JUST A FRIEND! BUT YOU SAY HE'S JUST A FRIEND!

- - -

Biz Markie. That song is so good. Ya'll should go listen to it nao.

- - -

iowjefklm

In Pineapple Express, James Franco looks so much like Kristen Stewart when he jumps into the trash bin. It just made me lol really fucking hard.

- - -

"Did Sean seriously just leave his phone sitting there?"

"Uh . . . I guess, yeah." I picked it up. "Yup, that's his."

"Oh my God hand it to me!" He took the phone and started going to town. "How much time do you think I have?"

"I dunno. I guess if he heats up the cook' it'll be a couple minutes. The fuck are you doing?"

"I'm switching around all of the names on his contacts. Oh God, this is going to be hilarious!"

Samantha sat down with us. I saw the look in his eye, even though he kept focused on screwing around with Sean's phone.

"Hey guys! What're you up to?"

"Screwing around with Seansy's phone," he said with a smile. 

Sean figured it out after he got a text from his father asking if they could "fool around" at his house after class. He found it just as hilarious as we all did.

- - -

He noticed that his little ladybug had died. Body stiff, cold, awkwardly contorted. The colors on its back were faded.

He started crying.

We have to go.

NO, He was throwing a fit now.

God dammit, listen to me for once!

This made him cry harder. 

I'd realized that I'd been harsh. Too harsh. He was all I had. I was all he had. I wish we had more.

The four of us are dying: Two of us are already dead. The third is on his way. He'll be following his ladybug as if it were a clear summer's day on his back porch. Don't worry, reader. The fourth won't go until the end.

- - -

I went to a wedding this weekend. It was fun. Apparently the bride's sister happened to be a girl I had a class with in college. I didn't recognize her until she gave a speech at the reception. Twas fun to talk with her during. 

Two more of those to deal with during this summer. I are excited.

- - -

This is the episode where the mother has too much cleavage showing, so they blur it out. I find it hilarious. As if the still of her ass isn't enough. Oh, Disney! 

- - -

Give yourself this week to let it all fold out. If you've got nothing by Friday night, take charge. Look up emails 'n shit. Kay? Kay.

- - -

I'm slightly disappointed with finding out where you're going. I wish it were closer. Aaaand that's all I really want to say. Meeeh.

I could tell her, but that would be wrong. And cruel, if she felt the same way. And just awkward. Fuck.

http://www.hulu.com/watch/12609/arrested-development-burning-love#x-0,vepisode,1

Kenneth from 30 Rock AND Kevin from The Office. It's like a joining of awesome.

Excuse me for being rude, but . . .

How the hell are all you new people finding my blog? o.O

Just out of curiosity.