Aubrey in a Stripped Shirt

Trust me, he looks like his father.

Sleeping Aubrey

Childreen can sleep in any position.

Third Place Ain't So Bad

So, again I haven't posted in a while...sorry. I've just not really felt like it to be honest. I mean, I don't know if anybody even reads this thing so sometimes it feels like what's the point?
Anway, I've got some good news. I entered this local online writing contest and won third place :O) Here's the link if you want to read my entery: decomP (we never have no dreams at all) So I'm going to be reading at this place called Bean Street on May 26. I hope some of my friends show up 'cause I would hate to have to read to a bunch of strangers. You know, come to think of it...I should probbulby be practicing! I haven't read it outloud once yet. Hum...not good.
So what's new on the Anthony front? Apsolutly nothing. He doesn't seem to want to hang out, and when I called him the other day he didn't answer his phone. I invited him to go see Star Wars with me and Kris and Kristen and Steven; he said he'd call me back and let me know, and I never heard from him. So now just me and Kristen and Steven are going. Kris had to cancel 'cause he grandfather's sick and in the hospital.
I think that' s all for now. I'm going to go upstairs in a moment to scan some new pictures of Aubrey and then I'll post them on here. So, until then

--Octopus

Sometimes Blogging Sucks

Just in case you've been wondering why I haven't posted in a while...well, I have. I posted this huge, long, awsome post...and when I went to publish it, it disapeared. So BLAH!
I'm not going to retype that whole wonderful post 'cause I don't wanna. :OP I'll just give you the jist of it.
I had lunch with Anthony the other day. (He's the boy I really, really like) and we ate and talked for nearly an hour and a half. Turns out we have almost everything in common...it's kinda creepy, in a good way, but still creepy. It also turns out that he has a girlfriend.
I don't know the girlfriend's name or really anything about her. Other than she lives in Owensboro and she's sick and they really aren't sure what's wrong with her. They think she's got a cyst on her overies, but they aren't sure.
I'm really depressed about this, of course. I really pictured myself datting this guy, and then to find out he has a girlfriend just killed me. But I'm still trying to be friends with him, we'll see how that goes I guess. I'll keep you updated.
Well, I don't feel like typing any more, so I'm going to go for now. More later!
Until next time,
--Octopus

Just A Boy?

I've been avoiding this topic for a while now. The reason? What if he finds this and reads it? Who is "he" you ask? Just a boy. Or is he more than that? I wish he was. I'm trying but he's so incredibly shy. I think about him all the time. I've had dreams about him too. I'm trying to figure out how to go the next step. We talk and such...We have two classes together. But I've never...never been the one to make the first move. With Kris, well he went through Katie and Gabe...Well, Gabe was just damn forward. I'll see him again on Monday. And Tuesday we're going over my short story in class. I'm excited to see what he has to say about it. I used my predicament as a model for the story I guess you could say...I just want something to happen. I really like him. I love his smile. I can picture it in my head, and I do often. Seeing him smile makes me feel good. I'm sure no one wants to hear this, so blah! I just had to get that out there, so you know what's going on!

--Octopus

Elton In Dreamy Dream Land

I feel like doing the same thing.

What's Going On

So, I've moved back in to my parents house. It's not as bad as I thought it might be. I have pretty much the whole basement to my self aside from the pooltable area. I've almost unpacked all my boxes and have gotten everything organized, and I'm only missing a few things! I need to hang up pictures and stuff; the walls look pretty bare right now. But other than that it's pretty good.
I work tonight so maybe I'll get to see Deli Rob. He's the gay guy that works in the deli that I hang out with on my breaks. We talk about his boyfriend (er, should I now say ex-boyfriend) and other various things. We went to the same highschool, so we talk about that. Even though he's a year younger than me and a few years behind me in school.
The magazine is coming out on Thursday! Whoo Hoo! I'm really excited about this one since I got to help edit it. I mean, Ben certaintly did most of it, but I put in my two cents a couple times. We're having a Coffee House as our release party on Thursday which is slowly coming together. It'll be a miricale if it goes off without a hitch though!
Well, that's all for now. I'm going to set up the rest of this here blog! Until later,
--Tracy

Elton and Cats (Not in the same room of course)

Good news! I found a home for the cats and the lady (Colline) is coming over on Thursday to get them. Only bad thing is she already has two cats, and I'm just not sure how Gizmo will react to her new friends. The lady seems real nice though. She goes to I U Southeast (where I used to go) and she says she likes to take in cats that nobody else wants, and aparintly those would be my two! I'm going to suggest to her that when she gets Cubby and Gizmo home she keep them in a room by themselves for a bit (espesolly Gizmo) and just let them chill for a while before she introduces them to Mack and Dink (her two cats).
I hope I'm sending them to the right house :O/ I really wish Alice could have taken them. She seemed perfict. I guess she was just too good to be true, huh?
Elton was on Larry King Live last night. Freakin' awsome! He even took some calls. Emily tried to get me to call, but I was too nervis. Besides, what the hell would I ask him? "Why doesn't your forehead move anymore?" Hell, we all know the answer to that one! But the people who did call in asked such stupid questions. Like, "What's it like playing with Billy Joel?" and "Do you keep in touch with William and Harry? (Princess Di's kids)" That later one is obviouse 'cause he never really knew them in the first place, and besides I just don't think it was approprite to ask. But the actually interview was awsome ('cept for the fact that you couldn't see his eyes 'cause he was wearing sun glasses. I don't care if he wears glasses or not, just not sunglassses 'cause then you can't see the expression in his eyes.)
Emily's going to go see him in concert March 26. That's the day after his 58th birthday. We said it would be cool if the whole audience got up and started singing Happy Birthday, but we couldn't think of a way to orginze it.
Well I guess that's all for now. I can't think of anything else that interesting that's going on. Except that my microwave is screwed up. It turns on when you open the door. Go figure.
Anyway, I'll be back sometime I'm sure
Until then,
--Octopus

My Short Story for Kathleen

Confessions of a Compulsive Gambler


Mac placed his old 1934 quarter on the silver scratch off surface and began running the ridged edge of the coin back and forth against it. One pear. Two pears. Come on! One more pear...an old boot. Damn.
He placed five more dollars into the machine and pushed the “play all one kind” button and then pushed the button for his favorite scratch off game “Fruit Basket”. The machine spit out ten fresh cards waiting for him to reveal their destiny. Mac began scratching. On the fourth card he won. Ten dollars. On the sixth card he won again. Fifty cents. That was it in the hand.
Delighted, Mac walked up to the front counter of the Food Lion to clam his winnings. Behind the counter was a young girl. Much younger than Mac, but that wasn’t saying much. He couldn’t remember her name, even though it was pinned to her blouse. His eyesight wasn’t what it used to be. He’d admit that. But at least he could see his cards.
“Back again Mac?” The young girl asked with a smile. Mac could hear snickering behind him.
“Of course.” He replied with a cheerful smile. He handed the young girl his two winning cards. She took them, looked at them and then went to her computer to put in the information. Within a moment the drawer to her cash register opened and she took out ten dollars and fifty cents.
Mac took it with a smile. A huge smile. A smile that said (if you didn’t know any better, that is) that he had never won a single thing in his life.
He walked back to the machine, placed the ten dollar bill into the slot and again pressed the “play all one kind” button. He began scratching again.

~*~

Later that night, around eleven (about the same time The Food Lion was closing for the night) Mac sat back in his Lay-Z-Boy recliner and attempted to read the paper. The recliner was old and tearing at the seams. Much like Mac himself. He held the paper up almost to his nose. He refused to wear the glasses that his doctor had prescribed for him, unless, of course, he was driving. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Back in ’84, when Mac was in his 70s, there had been an accident. A terrible one that Mac never fully recovered from. He hadn’t been hurt—physically, but it was in that accident that his only child had died. Granted she was at the time in her 40s, but Mac still considered her his little princess.
Grace (his daughter) had never married. She had no kids of her own, and therefore Mac had no grandkids. His wife, Gloria, had died only two years before the accident in her own terrible accident: she slipped in the tub one morning while Mac and Grace were out doing who knows what now. He couldn’t remember the details. When Mac and Grace returned from their errand they had found her naked, lying in the tub, face down in the pooling water. Her skin had turned blue and she was drenched. The sight had never left Mac; he was still haunted by it to this day.
The closeness of the deaths of the only two people in his life left Mac devastated. Actually, devastated is an understatement. For the first two weeks after Gloria’s death he didn’t leave his room. He had loved Gloria in a way a drunk loves his alcohol. His quench for her was inconsolable: he couldn’t get enough. He only loved one person more, and that was Grace. She was, in fact, what finally got him out of his bed room. And she suddenly became his life.
Unconsciously Mac began seeing Gloria in Grace’s face. Then it got worse; he saw Gloria in everything Grace did and said. He could smell Gloria in Grace’s hair and feel her lips when he kissed her.
And he kissed her often.
It started out innocent enough: a kiss goodnight (Grace had moved back in with her father when her mother had died to help the grieving old man), a kiss good morning. But then one day he decided, semi-consciously, to push it just a bit farther.
It was on his birthday—his first birthday without Gloria, and he was lonely. Grace gave her father his birthday present, a new chain for his pocket watch (his old one was falling apart just as fast as Mac’s self control) and she leaned in to kiss him on the lips. She soon felt her father’s tongue try and enter her mouth. It pushed against her closed lips and she obediently opened her mouth (only very slightly) to allow her father entrance.
Grace lay in bed that night thinking about what had happened, but she didn’t cry. She knew what had happened had been wrong, but she considered it to be a one time thing. Something that happened because her father missed his wife. And that was true…at least the last part was.

~*~

The next morning, bright and early at noon, Mac walked into the Food Lion to continue his unhealthy gambling habit. In all honesty Mac didn’t even realize that he played those scratch off games as much as he did. He didn’t realize that he would spend hours in the store with his lucky ’34 quarter in between his fingers.
He heard the laughter and the chuckles from behind him, but he just figured it was just the kids that worked there having a good time. He never realized that they were laughing at him.
The kids that worked there all loved Mac. Loved to make fun of him that is. They would often ask each other what they thought he did when he went home. One kid, a sixteen-year-old named Kevin wiped “I bet he masturbates to the commercials for the lottery!” They all laughed, except for Monica, the older woman who worked the “teenager shift”. She felt sorry for Mac and often wondered if there was anything she could do for him. She too wondered what he did when he was home, but not in the same way the kids did.
After Mac finished his round of gambling (he won thirty dollars that day, but spent most of his winnings on more cards) he decided to do some shopping. He was short on bread and milk and other various items one would find at the super market. As he walked up and down the isles he glanced at the different products that were available. He began to walk down the international food isle, one he rarely visited, but it just happened to be the same isle that offered soup, and today he was in the mood for some clam chowder.
He examined the soup section looking for his favorite Campbell’s Clam Chowder when he spotted a bright yellow sign protruding from the shelf. It exclaimed “NEW ITEM! TRY IT, HALF PRICE!”
It was a new brand of soup…called Grace’s.
A tear slid down his face as he picked up the clam chowder variety of the new brand and put it in his basket. His mind began to wonder back to that fateful day.

~*~

Mac and Grace had been going to visit Gloria at Point of View Cemetery that day. How ironic it seemed now to Mac. It was snowing, pretty heavily, and Mac, not wearing his glasses (against the constant protests of Grace) was driving. “I know the way like the back of my hand. I don’t need no damn glasses!”
The windshield began to fog up and, since the car was old, it didn’t have a working defroster. Something Mac said he’d “get around to fixing…one day.” So he took his handkerchief, ridged with dried snot, out of his back pocket to wipe down the windshield. As he struggled with the handkerchief he inadvertently turned the steering wheel slightly to the right.
But it was enough for the front right tire to hit the small patch of black ice on the narrow, windy road. Only driving with one hand (the other was still lodged in his back pocket) Mac tried to correct his mistake, but the tire slid on the ice and he lost control of the car.
The proceeding accident was surprisingly silent. Mac didn’t hear any loud crash. He didn’t hear the tires squeal (although they did). And (thankfully) he didn’t hear Grace scream. The accident was also surprisingly dark even though it was only early afternoon. For the life of him, Mac couldn’t remember hardly any of the accident. He figured it was God’s way of shielding him from the trauma. He couldn’t see out the windows (they were fogged up), but he could feel the accident.
He felt the car roll down the hill and land on the passenger side in a pile of large rocks. The one thing he could remember…the most horrible part of the whole ordeal…was seeing the shard of rock lodged into Grace’s stomach. He could remember the blood. He could remember seeing her eyes rolling back in her head. And he could remember the last thing she said to him: “I told you to wear your damn glasses.” And then she was gone.
Mac didn’t have a cell phone and there were no houses around where the accident happened. He was hanging from his seatbelt, hovering over the dead body that once was his daughter. He just hung there and starred at her for nearly an hour.
By the time it had gotten dark Mac had finally come enough to his sense to realize that he need to get out of the car and get warm. He braced his right foot on the arm rest that was located between the two seats and carefully unclicked the seat belt. His foot didn’t support him as well as he had hoped and he fell onto his daughter. Mac pushed the experience out of his head immediately and, standing on his daughter still, unlocked the car door and climbed out. He heard bones crunch under his feet, but ignored them. The noises came back to haunt him later.
Mac made his way up the snowy slop to the road and waited in the cold for a passing car. When one finally arrived he waved his hands franticly and did a dance that would have been funny if the situation had been different. The car, covered in remnants of the snow and the salt the city had (supposedly) put on the roads, screeched to a halt. A teenage girl dressed in a faux fur trimmed coat rolled down her window suspiciously. Then she saw the blood (Grace’s blood, but she didn’t know that) that was quickly staining Mac’s shirt.
“Ohmygod! Are you, like, okay?” she spat out.
“My daughter…” Mac began between chattering teeth, “she’s still in the car. I think she’s…” but he couldn’t finish the sentence.
“I’ve got a cell phone.” The girl offered. Mac nodded then, as she handed it to him he said, “I don’t know how to work it…could you?”
The girl pulled her arm back into her car and dialed 911. As she talked to the dispatcher, Mac stood outside the car shivering. He couldn’t hear what the girl was saying. He was still in a state of shock.
Then suddenly her voice jolted him back to where he was.
“Oh duh! You want to, like, get in the car? You look totally cold.”
Mac responded by opening the back door and getting in. Instinctively he put on his seat belt.
Soon an ambulance and a couple police cars arrived and the girl in the snowy car went on her way fresh with a story to tell at school in the morning. Mac couldn’t really remember all that had happened after the police had gotten there. The one thing he did remember was seeing a stretcher with a black bad being pushed up the side of the hill.

~*~

Mac finished his grocery shopping and went to the front counter to pay for his items. He and the girl behind the counter exchanged a few words: “How are you today?” “Win much today?” the usual banter. Then Mac took his five dollars in change and went over to the machine.
He placed the five dollars in the slot, but instead of playing “Fruit Basket” he opted for a five dollar game called “Morning Glory”. The name reminded him of his wife, and he was feeling a bit sentimental today.
The object of the game was to match three flowers in one of the eight lines on the card. The reason it was such an expensive game was that the maximum amount you could win was 500 dollars. That is, if you matched three Morning Glories.
Mac took out his lucky quarter and began scratching. One Morning Glory…two Morning Glories…Holly Shit! THREE Morning Glories. Mac just won 500 dollars.
He went to the front office again, calmer and without a smile on his face this time. He handed the card to the girl and her eyes got as wide as a four lane highway. As it just so happened she had the money in the safe so she was able to give Mac his pay off right then and there. After he filled out a few forms.
Mac took the money, mostly in twenties and fifties, but he had asked for a few tens. He walked back to the machine, placed a ten dollar bill into the slot, and pressed the “play all one kind” button again.
Mac began to scratch the silver coating as if nothing unusual had happened.

The Cat Came Back The Very Next Day

So tomorrow was supposed to be the day Alice came to get the cats. But (there's always a but isn't there?) I got an email from her the other day and turns out her daughter bought her a kitten. So, she can't take Gizmo and Cubby any more. Boy I am pissed about that. Alice seemed like the perfict home for them. And we had a deal. And Gizmo is going to be so hard to find a home for. And to get them to go together...they have everything against them.
Plus, it was like I could see a light at the end of the tunnel, you know? And now I just see a train barling towards me.
I would type more, but I've got some homework to do.
Until later,
--Octopus

Me and Aubrey 

Aubrey in his Elton costume.